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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month ago

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Primal (Part 2)

Summary: The reader and her mysterious friend are forced to come clean to Beau about who they are. Beau still has questions he needs answered though, and when the reader's heat returns, bringing them both home seems like the smartest choice. But the question of the reader's strange heat puzzles them until Emily voices a theory, one that means they're dealing with something far worse than just a serial killer...

Primal Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!reader

Word Count: 7,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, violence, drugging, serial killers, death, kidnapping, mention of human trafficking

A/N: Here we go with Part 2! Lots of answers in this part and even more questions!

Reader POV

Thirty Minutes Later

“Oh, what the fuck, Y/N.” You waved awkwardly to the Alpha that was frowning as you walked into the interrogation room. Both of you now wore a pair of Helena PD sweatpants and t-shirt but his annoyed glare remained unchanged. “You moron. You could have walked away. You-”

“Nice to see you too, bud. Always love the compliments,” you said, Beau brushing past you, gently shutting the door behind you.

“Hello. Barclay.” Your jaw dropped, Barclay’s eyes raging as they settled on you. “Tim Barclay. Y/N Y/L/N. Now you two are a long way from home.”

“You told him?” he snarled. You shook your head, Beau smiling happily as he sat up on top of the table.

“No, no. She tried to come up with some half-cocked plan to get you out without us running your prints,” said Beau. Barclay scrunched his brow. “I know what you’re thinking. We didn’t take your prints. Oh but see we did. You had your hands all over that stretcher.”

“Fucker,” Tim grumbled. Beau lifted his chin, looking down his nose at him. “I ain’t saying a fucking word.”

“I ain’t the dumb hick cop you must think I am,” said Beau, sliding to his feet, turning to you with a smile. “Let’s see how much I know already for fun, hm? See Timmy here is a US Marshal, formerly out of the Boston office. He went on a sabbatical ten months ago.”

Beau stepped over to you, tilting his head. You swallowed under his intense gaze, his scent floating around you, making your head dizzy.

“Did you know Tim’s old supervisor took him under his wing when he first started? Poor kid didn’t have much in the way of family. That supervisor invited the young man around for family dinners with his own wife and kid daughter and all that. Turns out Tim was like a big brother to that little girl. Cute story, huh?”

Beau pulled out a phone and spun it around, showing a picture from Tim’s instagram. A throwback of when he’d spent his first Christmas with you and your parents. You closed your eyes, Beau clicking his tongue.

“Throwback Thursday to that time the little brat gave me the nightmare fuel teddy bear #FrankenBear.” Beau hummed. “Oh and my favorite is the response from a profile with a striking resemblance to you. ‘First off I was eleven and handmade that shit. Second, I remember you bawling like a baby when you opened it, dumbass. #ungratefulbrothers #Imgettingyouacreepyassdollthisyear’.”

You took a seat at the table, Beau sitting down across from you. He looked to Tim who was breathing deeply, hands in fists from where he was cuffed to the table.

“Why are you protecting your sister, Tim?”

“She’s not my sister,” he said, peeling open his eyes. “...Legally speaking.”

“Why are you protecting Y/N?” he asked again. Barclay ignored Beau, frowning like he did when he was worried. He stared at you, his scent growing nervous.

“Because of me,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to his lap. You sighed, Beau leaning back in his seat, glancing at you.

“Tim worked a big case last fall. Illegal drug smuggling. Pharmaceuticals. It targeted Heat and Rut medications that were sold on the black market to traffickers for control purposes. He was part of the task force.” You found Beau’s face, his eyes cautious. “One man was killed during the raid…by Tim.”

“His brother wants an eye for an eye.” Tim closed his eyes, scrapped up knuckles showing the white of his bones. “I killed his brother so he wants Y/N dead. Only problem is he’s former special ops and he made off with an obnoxious amount of heat inducers. He’s been targeting women that look like Y/N. We’ve bounced around the country but he always follows us. Somehow he has inside information which is why we can’t trust anyone, even law enforcement.”

“We’ve been in Helena two months. Tim finally let me go out of my own tonight for the first time since this all started.” You put your arms on the table, resting your head in them, a wave of exhaustion rolling over you. “It’s my fault this happened.”

“Hey. No, it’s not. I should have been there,” said Tim. You peeled open an eye, his expression softening. He sighed, angling his body towards the sheriff. “I’ll answer whatever questions you have, Arlen. Shit, arrest me for what I did to your officer back at the hospital. But let Y/N go rest somewhere and for the love of god, keep her safe.”

Beau let his gaze wander, your head raising under his heated stare. Your nose twitched, his scent turning musky, your own responding in kind. Tim looked between you, narrowing his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you two eye fucking?” You blinked rapidly, pressing a hand to your abdomen and the heated coil that began to simmer.

“I uh…need the ladies room,” you said, rushing out of the room and heading down a hall. You shoved open a door and went to the sink, turning the faucet on to splash cold water in your face.

“Are you alright?” You turned, water droplets running down your cheeks. Beau stood in the open door, one large hand splayed against it, his scent coming off even stronger now. His eyes tracked down your body, lingering in way that made your insides clench. “You’re going into heat again, aren’t you.”

“Yup. That is a thing that’s happening,” you said, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I thought the heat stopper worked?”

“It smells…natural.” He wiped a hand over his face, holding it up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not…scenting you or anything. It’s just…”

“My hormones are all screwed up. I’m sure you smelling like that…” Your cheeks were on fire, slick dampening between your thighs at the thought of being so near a strong, protective Alpha. You cleared your throat. “It just triggered a natural heat I’m sure.” He hummed, both of you ignoring the way you could clearly smell the growing arousal in the air. “You should probably take me to the hospital to be safe.”

He frowned, making a face. “Normally I’d agree with you but there sort of is a serial killer on the loose and given their proven access to heat inducers, we are likely dealing with someone with access to the hospital. I can’t guarantee your safety there.”

“Right,” you said, pointing a finger at him, nodding your head. “Good call a rooney.”

Oh god, someone please drop me off to that killer after all so I don’t die of embarrassment first.

He opened his mouth, pressing his pink lips closed after a moment. He debated something internally before he looked at the ceiling with a wince. “The last place you should be having a heat is a filthy police station with a bunch of criminals down the hall. I…do have a safe place you could have it. And a way to keep Barclay out of the system potentially. Not saying I buy his story but I can keep things on the down low while I look into things.”

“I’m all ears, sheriff.”

Two Hours Later

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” asked Dr. Olson. You hummed from the warm bed you were curled up in, not even bothering to open your eyes.

God damn, Beau had a comfy bed. A nice, big, soft, full of musky Alpha scent woven into every trace of fabric, bed. He was working downstairs while you rode out a nice, drug-aided heat in his room. Dr. Olson and a nurse Beau knew personally were spending the night along with at least three officers. You’d tried to explain that you could suffer through in his office at the station once you realized how much work you were causing but Beau had an ulterior motive for bringing you home it seemed.

Namely, he had a seventeen year old daughter and the fact he was personally protecting her at home while a serial killer was running around his town?

Yeah, that was not helping this whole, “sexy sheriff made you go into heat” thing.

“Dr. Olson, my dad wants to talk to you?” You slowly opened your eyes, the doctor leaving as you caught sight of the young woman with dark hair. The nurse excused herself to the guest room next door, leaving the two of you alone. She smiled at you, stepping in for a moment. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’ll sleep this off and be better by morning,” you said, the faintest whiff of her light, airy scent in the room. “I promise being an omega normally isn’t like this.”

“That’s what the nurse said.” She came in more, sitting at the end of the bed when you nodded. “When did you get your first full on heat?”

“Early twenties is normal. I’m thirty two and have been having them a decade. They aren’t so bad,” you said, sitting up and leaning back against the stacks of pillows behind you. She looked worried though. “Your first one will be your worst one since you have to go through it without medicine. After that though, it’s a breeze. This is so completely not normal.”

“Do Alphas really trigger heats? Cause like, I know my dad gave you Blaze on the street and then you got better and then you went into heat again after hanging out with him…”

“Um,” you said, scratching your head. You didn’t really want to be talking to this girl about how her very handsome father had absolutely triggered her into having a heat. “I mean, yes, they can if you don’t stick to your regular cycle. True mates can do that too. My hormones are very all over the place right now and I haven’t had one in a while so your dad probably played a small part in it but that’s all completely normal and-”

“He thinks you’re hot.” You blinked, the girl shrugging. “He can’t keep his eyes off you, not to mention he’s doing that musky thing with his scent which last time I smelled that I was ten and walked in on my parents which was scarring enough but yeah, he’s like, into you. Just thought you should know.”

“I’m sure your dad isn’t into me,” you said with a smile, while she hummed. “You’ll learn this but when an omega goes into heat in public, it makes the Alphas…eager. Our heats can trigger their ruts so I’m sure all you think you’re picking up is an Alpha and Omega scenting each other.”

“The doctor told him the only reason you would have gone into heat again so soon after the stopper was because you scented ‘desire’ from an Alpha. And then his face got beat red and then he took a scent blocker but I’m sure you’re right. He’s-”

“Emily, right?” you asked. She hummed, her face knowing she’d overstepped. “Emily…to put this really bluntly, when an Alpha smells an omega in heat, it makes them want to have sex. All you smelled was him getting turned on when I had some very strong heat scents going on. I’m sure he’s a very nice man but that’s all it was. Okay?”

“Sure, cause it’s totally normal for him to bring some random omega home but what do I know. My dad’s just horny, hm?” She got up and you sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear this but I know him. He likes you.”

“Alright,” you resigned, slipping down in the bed, a wave of drowsiness washing over you. “You can tell me how much he likes me after I sleep this off.”

“See? Told you I was right,” she hummed before heading out of the room.

“Kids,” you mumbled, shaking your head. Sure, Beau was attractive and smelled nice…and okay, he was letting you stay in his home…and hadn’t charged Tim with anything yet as far as you knew. But he was just doing his job. He was being nice. He didn’t think of you as anything more than a poor victim. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone in a long time so sure, the hot protective guy paying special attention to you? It was a little crush was all. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you burrowed your nose in his sheets, wishing he was beside you in that bed.

Beau POV

The October night air was cool, cutting through my flannel shirt, a sharpness to it that sent a chill down my spine. My gaze darted around the property, an unsettling feeling of being watched cascading over the house. I knew I had my officers around the entrances. Logically, this place was secure. Hunter wouldn’t dare try something here.

True, Emily and I didn’t exactly live in the suburbs. The rustic style house was bigger than the two of us needed but after all the shit she went through with that nutjob family at the camp, I wasn’t above buying the first place that put a smile on her face. We had a few acres that backed up to the woods and surrounded the property. A short minute walk through them on either side lead to the neighbors.

Unease weighed down as I looked around again. The sun was long gone and I couldn’t make out trees I knew were there from the smear of darkness that enveloped our lit up hideaway.

Goddamnit. I came out here to get some clear air, not fucking paranoid.

I stepped off the porch and to the front path of pavers, veering off it to wander out into the grass about thirty or so feet away. The air was crisp, maybe coming off the mountains tonight. I closed my eyes, hoping the breeze would help the pounding in my head.

A serial killer was running around my town and making fools of my officers. I had information overload on Marshal Tim Barclay. I’d need to talk to him alone soon. On paper, on the premise of facts, I’d be stupid not to suspect he was Hunter. Statistically, you were much more likely to be killed by someone you know and it wouldn’t be some insane stretch to think for some reason, he was manipulating Y/N all along.

If it were him, that’d be so fucking convenient for me. A nice little bow on the end of a long, emotionally draining, case. But my gut kept throwing up warning flags, flashing neon signs that Barclay truly was nothing more than a guy protective of his kid sister.

Kid. More like a thirty two year old woman with a body that had me adjusting my underwear more than an acceptable amount tonight. The whole damn house smelled like her. Her goddamn scent was…

“Stop,” I growled when I felt my dick twitch in my jeans. I rubbed my temples, walking out further from the house. Y/N was simply an incredibly attractive, incredibly in heat, omega that was triggering the fact I hadn’t been laid in nearly three years. That was all whatever this…feeling was.

My hand went to my stomach when a curl of wrongness settled there sending another message upstairs.

You aren’t just horny, moron. You can’t get her scent out of your head. Now why would that be? Remember health class? Biology? That thing we didn’t pay attention in? Bet you wished you had right now cause the answer is buried way in the back drawer of your subconscious under all that useful knowledge of the stats of your fantasy football team.

The air clearly wasn’t helping and bringing Y/N here was a stupid idea. But I just…couldn’t leave her at the station, couldn’t stay away from her. I couldn’t have Tim booked into the system, a nauseous wave overcoming me each time I thought I’d be better off to formally charge him as Hunter.

He wasn’t crazy. He was scared for Y/N like any good brother would be in this situation. And her? Y/N was a victim that had an Alpha nearly a dozen years older in a tail spin because his job was to catch who hurt her and all he could think about was the vanilla scent that followed her wherever she went.

Forget about Y/N and go back to work. I stormed back inside, my head probably more confused than when I left. I glanced one to the right where the closed doors of the den were. It was quiet inside the room. Good. I’d deal with him later.

“Em, bed time,” I said when went down the hall and found her in the open kitchen making popcorn. She pretended not to hear me, bypassing me as she got out a glass from the cabinet. I stood by the island, crossing my arms, growing impatient as she filled it with cold water from the tap. “Emily. You have to be at the airport at six in the morning. It’s nearly ten. Go. To. Bed.”

“It’s 9:15, old timer,” she scoffed, spinning around with a frown. “I’m already packed and I promise I will be up at 5:30. I’ll sleep on the plane.”

“Emily, I-” She held up a hand, my eyebrows raising.

“There’s a cop on the front porch. There’s a cop on the back porch. There’s a cop by the garage door. Not to mention there’s a doctor and nurse upstairs in your bedroom with that sleeping woman. Then there’s that hot, angry looking guy in the den-”

“I told you not to go in there,” I growled. She held up her hands, her scent growing more tense right along with mine. Why wouldn’t she just go up to her room and sleep and give me one less thing to worry about tonight? “Emily. There is a lot of shit going on-”

“I didn’t go in the stupid den,” she snapped, a bit too much venom behind her words. I breathed deeply, Emily getting her popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it in an empty bowl nearby. “I saw out the window some guy in cuffs got brought into the house and you said don’t go in the den so yeah, I figured that one out. I’m getting sick and tired of everyone treating me like a child. I’m a senior. Seventeen. In a year I’ll be at college living on my own. All you and mom and your friends and even that omega upstairs who I don’t even know…all you do is treat me like an helpless child. Yeah, I got kidnapped last year. Over a year ago. Stop babying me.”

She took her bowl and glass of water, storming off to the living room, the sounds of The Bachelor playing in the distance. I leaned back against the counter, closing my eyes as a dozen conversations from therapy came rolling back. Maybe I’d been too overprotective in the past. Maybe I did need to loosen the reins more. It was a process we’d been working on for over a year and she knew that. But something was going on in town and I needed her clear of this place, no matter how it made her feel.

It was already hard enough to concentrate with Y/N in the house. My gaze wandered away from the family room and to the stairs leading to a dim hallway where she was tucked away. My body buzzed happily for a moment, like it was relishing in the fact she was in our bed right now.

Y/N being gorgeous as sin wasn’t helping. Her bravery for trying to defend Tim when less than thirty minutes earlier she was in a life or death situation wasn’t great either. It was obvious she cared deeply for him. On top of it all, she escaped a fucking serial killer while drugged to hell. Strong. Intelligent. Beautiful. A kind soul that smelled like walking into a warm bakery on a cold autumn day.

I scratched over the small patch of skin on my neck where my bonding gland was buried deep within, a wave of fuzziness rolling through my body. Wait, that wasn’t lust because of her heat. That was…what the hell was that?

“How the hell did you hold out for so long?” I mumbled to myself. I lasted maybe three minutes from the time I touched Y/N’s neck drenched in the heat inducer to being floored on the ground. From all accounts so far, she’d made it ten from the time she was attacked at the park and made it to the sidewalk in front of the bar.

“You didn’t read that sex ed book you got me, did you.” I glanced up, yanking my hand away when Emily stood there again, her arms crossed. “Heat inducers trigger a heat when an Omega’s cycle isn’t normal. But, if an Omega has a normal cycle like most of them do, the inducer causes a flash point.”

“Like you get flash points right now cause you’re still presenting,” I said quietly, Emily pursing her lips. “So what are me and the doctors missing? A flashpoint is just a mini-heat that lasts for a few minutes.”

“Right. So you gave Y/N the Blaze to stop the flashpoint and she started to get better.”

“But she was not in the middle of a flashpoint. I was there. That was…something worse than a heat.” I said, remembering how hot her scent was, how potent it was. Her shrill, guttural scream as she passed out would be the star of many a nightmares to come.

Emily walked around to the island, taking a seat on a stool. “It temporarily got better and then you sent her into heat again at the station. Now the only reason that could happen would be the really big obvious thing that no one is thinking of because it hasn’t been a thing in over a century when medicine became a thing.” Emily tilted her head, my eyebrows raising. She rolled her eyes. “Dad. That heat inducer was laced with something else. Something they don’t test for because it’s not a thing that happens anymore…Did you seriously not pay attention in history class either?”

“First off, I didn’t take all AP classes like you and second, Em, you’re confusing the hello out of me. What are you even talking about?” She leaned over the island, letting out a groan.

“Way, way, way back in the day, unmated Alpha’s in a Rut that went on too long used to go around biting omegas they wanted in their bonding gland. You know like if they were crossing the ocean or marching across a country or some shit and some poor dude went into rut and he couldn’t bust a nut in an omega.”

“Emily,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “Jesus fucking christ…”

“Sorry,” she said, making a face like I was the one making it awkward. “Anyway, they’d be so hopped up on Alpha hormones, they wouldn’t even wait to have sex, they’d just bite to claim the first omega that suited their fancy. But they’d go a little stir crazy cause they had to wait so long and they called it-”

“Primal,” I breathed out, shaking my head, opening my eyes again. “That’s…Em, that’s not been a thing for hundreds of years. Primal Alphas don’t exist anymore. We have medicines for Ruts now and even then, you have to be in Rut for close to a year I thought I remember to go Primal. Literally no one in this day and age would be able to have that happen.”

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong but what else makes an omega go into a strong heat that keeps coming on except for being bit by a Primal Alpha? Nothing. The omega goes into heat over and over until they mate with the Primal Alpha and get claimed. It’s either that or die of the heat. At least back in the day. Nowadays like you said, we have medicine.”

I stared at her, that creeping sensation washing over me again. If Em was right, somehow I had a Primal Alpha with a torture and murder kink running around. And he’d picked Y/N as his next target.

My eyes darted over to the stairs again, dread filling my gut. Would Hunter come back for her? Could I keep her safe from a monster like that? I glanced back at Emily, memories of clutching her tightly while she still had rope burn on her wrists telling me I’d fuck this up and let Y/N down too.

Emily sighed, looking up at me with gentle eyes as if she could read my thoughts. “I’m sorry for being a pain tonight. I just get nervous when you start banishing me to other states that you’re being too protective cause that just makes me feel like I need you to protect me and we both know from therapy that’s not good for either of us.”

“No, it’s not,” I said gently, tugging on the end of her braid. “I’m your dad, Em. I’ll always protect you and this situation with Hunter is dangerous. I’m not sending you away because I think you aren’t capable. In fact it’s the opposite. I know you’re strong enough to go off on your own. But I’ll worry if you’re here in town, Em and the more worried I am about you, the less focus I can give to protecting that omega upstairs and stopping Hunter from hurting more people. I know my limit and I need your help.”

“Then I go to Seattle and if it’s still not safe for me to come home, I’ll go stay with Grandma and Grandpa in Texas.” I smiled, tugging again.

“You could stay with your mother…”

“Don’t push it,” she said, pursing her lips. “I told the doctor my idea about the Primal stuff when everyone first got here.”

“What’d he say?” I asked, Emily shrugging.

“He said that it was nearly impossible for a Primal Alpha to be out there without someone knowing about it.” I frowned. Sure, it was far fetched. But Emily was a smart kid, smarter than me about this stuff. He shouldn’t have discounted- “Then he drew blood and made a face like oh shit and then gave Y/N a shot in her bonding gland and then he tested her again and his face looked better.”

“Why didn’t he say anything?” I asked as the stairs creaked. Both our heads turned as Dr. Olson came downstairs, giving us a nod.

“Because that’s not something I could verify on the spot. I sent the instant read results off to a friend of mine at the university to do further analysis. Your daughter’s unfortunately right, Sheriff Arlen. The heat inducer was mixed with salvia from an Alpha in rut. An Alpha that is Primal” he said.

I wiped a hand over my face as he held up a hand. “I took a precaution with Y/N and gave her a flushing agent to her bonding gland in the event Emily was right. She’ll be just fine with no adverse side effects.”

“That’s great doc but I have a psycho on the loose in my town. Please send any information you and your friend have come up with over to the county morgue’s office and let them know what you’ve discovered. A fucking Primal Alpha serial killer…”

“Will do,” he said, returning upstairs. Emily was quiet, watching me pace around the kitchen. Shit, I was making her anxious. I padded across the wood floor, forcing myself to relax, give her a soft smile.

“Thank you my little smartie pants.” I kissed the top of her head, pulling her into a hug. “You helped Y/N and with my case. I owe you one.”

“Does this mean you’ll start listening to me from now on?”

“It means I’ll listen but you need to give a little too,” I said, leaning back. She rolled her eyes but it lacked any animosity. “Being a grown up means making decisions but also knowing when to listen and do as told. Please be safe tomorrow and don’t go anywhere alone.”

“Deal. If you tell me if you like that omega upstairs.” I breathed deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Dad. You guys are giving off major vibes.”

“And there’s the teenager side again,” I said, Emily smirking. “She’s…attractive.”

Emily grinned like the cheshire cat, my own eyes narrowing. “Emily. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You like her,” she said with a triumph hum. “That’s good considering she likes you too. All y’all grown ups forget that pups can smell things y’all can’t like how your scents are doing that mixing thing when y’all are in love.”

“Mhm,” I said, spinning her around. “Go finish your trashy reality show then off to bed.”

She waved me off and left to the family room, leaving me to settle back in at the table with my laptop. An hour later, Y/N’s scent had lessened, her heat probably having passed which was good. I had a better idea how I wanted to question Barclay about all the bombshells I’d discovered and was just jotting down one last though when I heard Emily start a new episode. I shook my head as Jenny called to check in.

“Any luck?” I asked.

“Only the shitty kind.” I leaned back in my chair, biting the inside of my cheek. “Beau, it’s been over four hours. Hunter’s in the wind. We got to re-group.”

“Keep up patrols but we can pull a third back. I want Hunter to feel squeezed still. Put everyone in the station on this but designate a team to work other cases tonight. I want them to keep working this. Hunter fucked up somewhere and we’re going to find it tonight. You and Pop head back to the station too, get you guys to start tracking down this Primal Alpha thing, see if there’s a connection there,” I said.

“You coming in? We could head to yours, brainstorm there.”

“Good call. I’ll make some coffee. You guys bring some grub. It’s gonna be an all nighter. Oh and Hoyt? You going to press charges against Barclay or what? I need an answer.”

“No,” she grumbled. “But I do want to kick him in the nuts.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I chuckled, rising from my seat. “You sure you don’t want to charge him?”

“I’d take you up on that but the guy was just protecting his sister. Unless he turns out to not be innocent, then I’ll beat his ass so good he never makes it to trial.”

“Hoyt, what did I tell you about admitting your bloodlust to me?” I sighed.

“Whatever. You ever find out why he went off grid instead of using the Marshal service to keep her safe?”

“I have an idea. I’m about to go question him, see if I’m right. Text me when you guys get here.”

I hung up, grabbing my notepad and pen from the table before heading over to the shut doors of the den. After a brief pause, I turned the handle, Barclay exactly where I’d left him earlier in the night. I quickly surveyed the room, smirking when I saw a stray paperclip on the ground under the desk. Nothing else was out of place, not even where the chair indented the rug.

“So, how long ago did you get out of those cuffs?” I asked, closing the door behind me. He shrugged his shoulders forward, letting the cuffs fall to the ground behind him as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d guess about three minutes after you got dropped off in here?”

“I take it blondie isn’t pressing charges?” he asked. He stood from my office chair, a sharp edge to his scent.

“To be determined. Now make yourself comfortable,” I said, reaching into my back pocket, tossing a zip tie at him. He caught it, narrowing his eyes. I rested a hand on my hip, not on my gun but near enough for him to get the message.

Barclay fixed the loop and put his wrists through it, pulling it taught with his teeth. Tim sat back down, all while giving off major, “fuck off” vibes in his scent. I came closer now in the small room, clenching my jaw. “Now we both know you could get out of those if you tried. This is about you understanding your place. Disobey me again and I’ll let blondie hog tie you and beat you like a pinata if that’s what she wants. Understand?”

He rolled his eyes, an air of indifference around him. Not smug. No, he was confident. A confidence he could back up. Which meant he was either going to be a great asset if he was innocent or incredibly dangerous if he was Hunter.

Tim’s jaw clenched, eyes examining me as if I were the one that had attacked his sister or something. “I told you everything I know and Y/N is somewhere in this house. If you were going to charge me, Barlen, you would have left me at the station. So let me go and take my sister with me. We know how to keep a low profile. You can run around and catch your killer without us.”

“It’s Arlen,” I grit out. He smirked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Bitch ass Arlen? No, I think I got it right the first time.”

“Listen you, Alpha fuck.” The den door swung open quickly, Emily standing there with my radio from my belt. “What the hell-”

“Sorry but they needed you and were freaking out about something,” she said, shoving the radio in my hands. I didn’t miss the way Barclay stared at her, Emily giving it right back as someone droned through the speaker about a massive bar fight at Stormy’s.

“The fucker is trying to pull cops out of the area by causing a diversion,” said Barclay, offering a quick glance at me. “They probably spiked drinks with rut enhancer and the whole place is going nuts.”

I tried to ignore him but he was almost certainly correct. Stormy’s reputation preceded itself. Omegas knew to not go near it. Alphas knew you could easily buy drugs out the back. No cameras and no one ever talked to cops. Hunter’d been in town long enough to know that and know the place was a massive thorn in the side of law enforcement.

If nothing else, it told us Hunter was still in the original area which was good. I turned around, pressing the call button on my radio. “This is Arlen. Call the fire chief, tell her to send some of her bigger guys down with Rutcan. The aerosol kind and no, I don’t care how expensive it is. Tell her to bill me.”

I sighed, clipping the radio on my belt. Emily scurried off when I nodded, Barclay biting the inside of his cheek to stop a smile.

“You’re gonna forget that girl you just saw even exists, understand?” I snapped. “I swear to god-”

“The only thing I want is my sister safe. If she’s here with your kid, I’m going to assume you have this place locked down.” He leaned back into the chair, breathing deeply. “I told you everything and I’m sure you looked into me. I get being pissed over what I did to your officer but I do not hurt kids. I’m more of a help to you right now and we both know it. If you won’t let Y/N and me leave town, then at least let me work this with you.”

I took a deep breath. Alright, time to get to the truth.

“Your story doesn’t hold up, Barcly.” He looked confused, a flash of anger on his face hiding concern. Ah, so he was that type of guy. Anger was his front. I could work with that. “That drug dealer brother you said was after you?”

“Yeah…” he trailed off. I sat against my desk, crossing my arms all while Tim frowned up at me.

“He died about three days after you and Y/N left Boston. Drug turf war stuff.” Barclay shook his head, holding up a finger from his bound hands.

“You must have the wrong guy. I have intel from the Marshal service-”

“Barclay.” He snapped his mouth shut, both of us pausing a beat. He didn’t try to hide the gears turning in his head, a dozen scenarios and then some flashing through his mind in a split second.

“You have the wrong guy. Probably the same name. Mix ups have happened before,” he said, landing exactly on the idea I figured he would. But it wasn’t enough yet. I needed more before I could trust him.

“If there was truly a threat, why didn’t you follow your standard protocol and put Y/N into witness protection? Why do this off the books bullshit and put Y/N in danger?”

He looked past me out the dark front window, his face losing some color as the gears in his head turned him down a different path, down the ones he didn’t think existed a moment ago. I knew from his file Timothy Barclay was a highly skilled and highly trained. He graduated valedictorian of his high school in Boston. Somehow managed to get a four year degree in Business Management, minor in Criminal Justice, all while being in the army and joining special forces the second he was eligible at 19. He spent four years running around the world before he got into the Marshals, impossibly difficult at his age but his military career definitely helped. By 24, he graduated training and joined the US Marshals Boston field office where he’d remained up until early last January.

It’d taken some digging and bribing an old friend that was now a Captain back in Houston but he got hold of Tim’s personnel file. The man lived and breathed the US Marshals. He had taken more certifications, more courses, had more awards, than my entire station combined. I was very well aware of the fact this man was a better investigator, a better fighter, better shooter, better liar, than I’d ever be.

But some things, you just couldn’t fake.

“Talk to me, Tim. I can’t read your mind,” I said, trying to coax him back from whatever dark rabbit hole he’d gone down in his head. He blinked a few times, watching the stillness of night outside.

“I uh, got a threat on our front door. Like old school, letters cut out of a magazine, threat. Y/N and I share a place back in Boston,” he said, closing his eyes, searching his memories for an answer he didn’t want. “There was a power outage that night and our backup on our security system didn’t work that night which never sat right with me. Neither of us were home. I had a late call at work and Y/N had a girls night with a friend, stayed at her place. I saw the note when I got home in the morning.”

“Then what happened?” I asked, Tim shaking his head.

“I went to my supervisor like anyone would. Teddy, Y/N’s father. I said I wanted Y/N in protective custody, wit sec, something where she’d be protected round the clock. I didn’t care where. This drug family, they had enough connections with traffickers that if they got hold of Y/N…I just couldn’t let that happen to her.”

“So you went to Teddy,” I said.

“He said it wouldn’t be safe to do the normal protocol, that the dealers had an in at the Marshal service and would find us. I didn’t understand how that was true but they knew where we lived after all. I figured Teddy was high up in our office, in command. He would have known if there was an insider threat and I had no reason to question him.” Tim took a beat, opening his eyes, breathing quietly. “Teddy told me he’d put me on sabbatical and to grab Y/N and get out of town that night. He said he was to be my only contact and I was to trust no one. He’d tell us when to move around, where to go next but that was it. Every time Y/N asked when we could go home Teddy would say the drug dealer put a hit out on the two of us and we couldn’t come back until he’d built his case against him.”

“Teddy failed to mention this drug dealer being dead.”

“Why would he lie to us?” Barclay looked up at me finally, a mixture of anger and fear. A sliver of vulnerability that he’d fucked up. I sighed, walking over in front of him, stopping at his feet. “I don’t understand.”

“Barclay, I have a serial killer on my hands. They’ve been active in Helena for six months. Before that, looks like the same killer profile as in Boulder.” He shook his head, a look of panic crossing his face. “Before that, Atlanta.”

The dread on his face was a clear enough answer for me. This man had no idea about Hunter or what Teddy was up to.

“Let me guess. Cleveland before that?” he whispered. I nodded.

“Boston before that,” I said. Tim closed his eyes, flashing them open with another shake of his head.

“Wait, you said six months. That doesn’t make sense. Y/N and I didn’t show up here until closer to three months ago. There’s no way this guy is following us.”

“Oh, you’re right,” I said, squatting down. “You’re following him. Now tell me again, do you pick your next city or is that Teddy too?”

“That’s not…” Tim made a face, standing and brushing past me. He went to the window, his scent coming off in big panicked waves, something he would have learned to control years ago in all his trainings. No I recognized it all too clearly. It was the same way my office had smelled when Emily was abducted last year.

“No. No, you’re wrong, Barlen. If Teddy was tracking a serial killer, there’s no way in hell he’d not report it. He’d rather die than see his daughter get a paper cut a-and you’re telling me he’s sending her after a serial killer the past year? It makes no sense. It makes no fucking sense.”

I nodded, quietly walking over to him, cutting his zip tie off. He rubbed his wrists, his face hard again but the worry burned into his eyes. He knew what I did. Teddy was involved with Hunter, with a serial killer. There was no good justification in the world. Except for the fact Teddy probably wanted Hunter to kill Y/N or the both of them for some reason.

But Tim wasn’t ready to say that out loud and I wasn’t about to push him.

“No, it doesn’t. A lot doesn’t make sense. All I do know is Y/N was Hunter’s next target and she got away. We have to assume he will come after her again. Either way, you’re both involved and the one thing I have zero doubts about is you value her life above your own. I read your file and I need someone like you to help me catch this son of a bitch.”

Tim steadied himself, nodding to himself. “Hunter comes near her, I’ll make him regret being born.”

“Good,” I said, his face showing a flash of surprise. “My daughter was abducted last year and left for dead. The things I wanted to do to the man that took her…law and order has it’s place in the world. But some monsters just need to be put down.”

“Maybe you’re not awful after all, Barlen,” he said, tilting his chin up with a barely there smirk. He held out his hand, sharing a firm handshake with him. “Let’s get this guy and figure out what the fuck is going on with Teddy.”

“That’s all I get? No threats to stay away from your sister? Maybe you’re the one that’s into me,” I teased, letting a smile cross my face. Tim chuckled, stepping past me.

“First off, you couldn’t handle me, Barlen.” He looked over his shoulder, a dark smirk on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re handsome and my sister’s type but the whole divorced, dad to a teenager, in his fifties means I don’t even have to threaten you. Once her heat’s passed, she ain’t even going to look at you.”

“I’m forty three, fuckhead.” He just smiled, egging me on. Fine. He wanted to play that game, I was down. “You know how pups can smell things we can’t?” I said, throwing an arm over his shoulders, walking him out of the den and towards the kitchen. “Emily says mine and Y/N’s scents are mixing and we all know that means there’s more than just attraction going on.” I flashed him a wink for good measure, his eye twitching. “Your sister smells so damn good, Barclay. Shit, she could be my true mate.”

“I need to speak with your child with poor scenting abilities. Now,” he grumbled.

“Barclay. You manage to get her the hell out of that living room and in bed, I won’t let Hoyt kick you in the balls when she gets here in fifteen cause man, she really wants to.”

“Deal,” he said, storming into the living room as I stood over the kitchen table. “Kid, tell me what the hell you smell between your dad and my sister and I won’t toss your butt in bed in the next twelve seconds.”

“Oh boy you really don’t want the answer to that based on your whole vibe. By the way, do you like Jenny?” I heard from the next room, chuckling when Tim scoffed like a teenager. “Cause your scent did that you like someone thing and you sound like you got maybe some enemies to lovers thing going on.”

“You know what you little-”

Glass shattered nearby, the distinctive sound of a shot ringing out, somewhere towards the back of the house. I hit the ground, watching wide eyed as Tim yanked Emily to the floor, covering her body with his all in the same fluid motion.

“Emily!” I went to move for her but slammed down and back behind the kitchen island when shots rang out from the front as well. “Emily! Answer me!”

___________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #beau x reader #jensen ackles #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen fanfiction #beau arlen fic #big sky fanfic #beau x you #beau arlen series #abo

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fuumiku · 3 months ago

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Day 19: AU

Naga & researcher AU! Medicine expert Marcille is doing research on naga venom because it may have properties that could innovate pharmaceutics and could helo work towards immortality... My thought was that it causes paralysis in a way that keeps cells in stasis but idfk. So researcher Marcille Donato has to find a friendly enough naga gentlefolk to study and harvest venom from… Cue Chilchuck "I am sooo mean and dangerous, fear me or I'll do you in -proceeds to not do anything even when she sticks around and starts being clingy-" He had to grow harder and tougher it's a harsh world out there but he's a real nice guy… Just... Shouty... Marcille like "Actually I don't think you'll kill me if I stay here for some time to take field notes" and he gives up on denying it.

Pushing Marcille's "I want to study him like a petri dish" towards Chilchuck to the most literal I can

Maybe nagas have a short lifespan… Maybe to make venom strains the body and they have a faster metabolism. So it's kinda, the hope for her goals that he creates is also what kills him faster…? Like, harvesting the venom puts stress on the body because then it hastens to make more venom. And Marcille has to let her research about the far future of her friends go to instead enjoy her present with them...

Ok that's story info but design wise I also have to say, when I got to spontaneously choose how to color him I went with a Brazilian Rainbow Boa's patterns! Simply because I am biased and have one as pet. Are they venomous? ..... No. Do they have a fast metabolism? Snakes generally don't. Do they live in deserty places? A jungle actually. Did you know they are pretty close relatives to anacondas, they swim, burrow in the ground AND climb trees ☝️ They have really cool moon & star patterns lowkey and a nice kinda gold color, AND they're iridescent!!!! And those motifs always go so so hard with marchil It did send me spiralling though, like… A cornsnake or some plain brown snake would work really well for him, or a sand boa. And then I was thinking about his daughters and what species his wife should be and— black snakes often have really nice iridescence too, seriously look up black boas or indigo snakes, and now I'm thinking about Chil shining as some theme, like Marcille being like "noo you may not see it but you have plenty of qualities, you're a diamond in the rough"… Even if between the two of them Marcille is more diamond-like as far as he's concerned… The world looks so much more colorful when it's being reflected through her.

Pet snake pics just because under spoilers, she's called Mooncake and she has never done anything wrong ever in her life (except being a serial plant murderer)

She's shy. She also loves hollow logs <3 Snug nooks and crannies including using a layer of dirt as a weighted blanket. Return to earthworm

#Dungeon meshi #dunmeshi fanart #marchil #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #dunmeshi au #Marchil march 2025 #Marcille giving african wild dog energy here #Hey..... what if....... bacteria marchil au....... Is Chilchuck Venom-like w researcher marcille or are they both amoebas? Yes #Your family shines <33333 #brazilian rainbow boa #Gdbdg being a marchil shipper really is just pushing her to hype up her romantic rival and his *perfect family* half the time #Aromantic selfshipper behavior... or just a rlly rlly self-unaware girl gbdgd tfw when the thing comes true and hm not so nice anymore...#marchil shipper experience is being: YEAHHH RECONCILE WOOHOO PEACE AND LOVE!!#AND: reconciling? Ooooof ummm good luck with that i'm sure that'll go really really well haha… yeah……#Gbdgd anyways. All that to say unlike rabbitstoat au or bug au this was one where i didn't know if he had his divorce backstory or not #Yk marchil is kinda..... isabella bird manga energy. A lil bit. If Marcille was more into anthropology than anxiety about mortality #Here tho i love thinking about Marcille slipping more and more into forgetting she's here for the venom and studying chil for the funsies #No mr Tims I totally need to note every part of your life history for my research this is important

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covid-safer-hotties · 5 days ago

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Reference saved in our archive

Even at low spread, covid shows massive mutagenic potential, resulting in new viable strains. We have to stop the spread of this disease or it will outpace all the pharmaceutical tools we have. Mask up. Clean the air. Meet outside. Use Zoom when you can.

#mask up #public health #wear a mask #wear a respirator #pandemic #covid #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #covid 19 #still coviding

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argumate · 4 months ago

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With a green light from both parties, egg industry consolidation continued rapidly. By the end of the 1990s, we had gone from there being a dozen or more primary breeders of layer chickens active around the world in 1980 — with most of them being based in the United States — to there being only two who control an estimated 90% of the market, both of whom are based in Europe.

Beyond acquisitions, Hendrix and EWG also proceeded to lock up much of the critical information about breeding methods, strain lineage, genetic markers, and other matters involved in breeding or multiplying layer chickens behind patent, copyright, and trade-secret protections. Simultaneously, in the 1990s, the Clinton administration eliminated what remained of funding for poultry research and the maintenance of public poultry stocks at land-grant universities. With public know-how gone and private know-how consolidated into two firms, it became extremely difficult for independent companies to enter into poultry genetics and breeding.

As one would expect, the industry stagnated. A post-consolidation study (1996) found that the layer genetics industry spent only $16-20 million a year on R&D — or 5 cents out of every $100 the industry earned globally. In 2006, even an executive at EWG had to admit that “independent sources of new germplasm” for breed development had become “very scarce,” and that “[e]very merger between breeding companies [was] result[ing] in the elimination of lines” of poultry stock important to the breeding of new and competing strains of layer hens.

...

This strategy by the dominant breeders was also a function of legal changes in antitrust. It used to be illegal for powerful businesses to use exclusivity agreements, but they are now pervasive. Exclusive deals are the basis, for example, of the antitrust case against Google in search, which signed deals with Apple, Mozilla, Verizon, and a host of other distributors to be the default search engine on their devices. Another example would be independent pharmacies, who have to sign exclusive deals with pharmaceutical distributors where they pledge to buy 90% of their supplies from one distributor. An exclusive dealing arrangement is not always unlawful, but it is when used by a dominant firm to lock up a market and foreclose rivals from selling into it.

And that’s exactly what EWG and Hendrix were doing. As a 2012 study of the dominant breeders’ strategies found, EWG and Hendrix “use[d] their corporate power to pressurize the [hatcheries] with the aim of increasing their market share[s] and superseding their competitors.” The owner of a hatchery at the time described what was happening more plainly: “We are currently still a free grower. There are not many of us left. We will probably join a group [referring to EWG or Hendrix] now, because nowadays they do not like it anymore when somebody is active on the free market and offers [multiple] products.”

In 2015, Hendrix — powered up by a large investment from a private equity fund — decided to eliminate the power of these independent hatcheries altogether by acquiring its way into the hatchery business and beginning to supply egg producers with chicks and hens directly. Seeking to control multiple layers of production and distribution like this is called “vertical integration,” and it’s something that laissez faire-minded antitrust enforcers across the administrations of Reagan, Clinton, Bush, and Obama saw as especially efficient. To offer some context, from the 1970s until the Trump administration challenge of the AT&T-Time Warner merger in 2017, enforcers didn’t bring a single vertical merger to trial. Hendrix’s serial acquisitions of hatcheries in the 2010s was just one more vertical M&A scheme among thousands that took place during this era, barely noticeable in the deluge of monopolization.

Since then, EWG and Hendrix have bred — either directly or through contract hatcheries — an estimated 90% of the commercial egg-layer hens in the world (except China, where a state-backed firm dominates the domestic market). Beyond these two firms, the only primary breeder that remains active in the West is TETRA, which barely offers a competitive brown-egg layer strain and does not offer a decent white-egg layer hen at all. Practically, it is now impossible for a commercial producer of eggs in the United States to establish or expand a competitive flock without relying on EWG or Hendrix.

so blame Reagan, but also Clinton, Bush, and Obama for why two companies end up controlling 90% of the egg market in the US.

(excerpts from Matt Stoller's BIG newsletter)

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guitarhappyman · 7 months ago

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What the Trump Nominees Have Not Done—And Will Not Do

5 Comments / December 5, 2024

Victor Davis Hanson

American Greatness

Deflated by the resounding November defeat, the left now believes it can magically rebound by destroying Donald Trump’s cabinet nominees.

Many of Trump’s picks are well outside the usual Washington, DC/New York political, media, and corporate nexus.

But that is precisely the point—to insert reformers into a bloated, incompetent, and weaponized government who are not part of it.

Trump’s nominee for FBI director, Kash Patel, is already drawing severe criticism.

His furious enemies cannot go after his resume, since he has spent a lifetime in private, congressional, and executive billets, both in investigations and intelligence.

Instead, they claim he is too vindictive and does not reflect the ethos of the FBI.

But what will Patel not do as the new director?

He will not serially lie under oath to federal investigators as did interim FBI Director Andrew McCabe, a current Patel critic.

He will not forge an FBI court affidavit, as did convicted felon and agency lawyer Kevin Clinesmith.

He will not claim amnesia 245 times under congressional oath to evade embarrassing admissions as did former Director James Comey.

He will not partner with a foreign national to collect dirt and subvert a presidential campaign as the FBI did with Christopher Steele in 2016

He will not use the FBI to draft social media to suppress news unfavorable to a presidential candidate on the eve of an election.

He would not have suppressed FBI knowledge that Hunter Biden’s laptop was genuine—to allow the lie to spread that it was “Russian disinformation” on the eve of the 2020 election.

He will not raid the home of an ex-president with SWAT teams, surveil Catholics, monitor parents at school board meetings, or go after pro-life peaceful protestors.

Decorated combat veteran Pete Hegseth is another controversial nominee for secretary of defense.

What will Hegseth likely not do?

Go AWOL without notifying the president of a serious medical procedure as did current Secretary Lloyd Austin?

Install race and gender criteria for promotion and mandate Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion training?

Insinuate falsely that cabals of white supremacists had infiltrated the military—only to alienate that entire demographic and thus ensure the Pentagon came up 40,000 recruits short?

Oversee the scramble from Kabul that saw $50 billion in U.S. military equipment abandoned to Taliban terrorists?

Watch passively as a Chinese spy balloon traversed the continental United States for a week?

Allow the chairman of the Joint Chiefs to promise his Chinese communist counterpart that the People’s Liberation Army would first be informed if the President of the United States was felt to issue a dangerous order?

Rotate into the Pentagon from a defense contractor boardship and then leave office to rotate back there to leverage procurement decisions?

Oversee the Pentagon’s serial flunking of fiscal audits?

Health and Human Services nominee Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. is certainly a maverick. He may earn the most Democratic hits, given his former liberal credentials.

But what will RFK also not do as HHS secretary?

Oversee his agencies circumventing U.S. law by transferring money to communist China to help it produce lethal gain-of-function viruses of the COVID-19 sort—in the manner of Dr. Fauci?

Organize scientists to go after critics of mandatory masking and defame them?

Give pharmaceutical companies near-lifetime exemptions from legal jeopardy for rushing into production mRNA vaccines not traditionally vetted and tested?

Leave office to monetize his HHS expertise and thus make millions from the pharmaceutical companies?

Trump’s nominee for Director of National Intelligence, former congressional representative and military veteran Tulsi Gabbard, will soon be defamed in congressional hearings.

But what has Gabbard not done?

Joined “51 former intelligence authorities” to lie on the eve of the 2020 election that the Hunter Biden laptop “had all the hallmarks” of a Russian information/disinformation operation”—in an effort to swing the election to incumbent Joe Biden?

Lied under congressional oath like former DNI James Clapper, who claimed he only gave the “least untruthful answer” in congressional testimony?

Encourage the FBI to monitor a presidential campaign in efforts to discredit it—in the manner of former CIA Director John Brennan, who lied not once but twice under oath?

Fail to foresee the American meltdown in Kabul, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the Hamas terrorist attacks on Israel, or the Houthis takeover of the Red Sea?

We are going to hear some outrageous things in the upcoming congressional confirmation hearings.

But one thing we will not hear about are the crimes, deceptions, and utter incompetence of prior and current government grandees.

The current crew, not their proposed Trump replacements, prompted the sick and tired American people to demand different people.

Voters want novel approaches to reform a government that they not only no longer trust but also now deeply fear.

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obs-bedo · 2 days ago

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Double edged it is, you're damned if you don't and damned if you do. No way to win.

I wouldn't say I had a beauty sleep but I'm back again so I think that's enough. Talking about sleeping, you shouldn't fall sleep on desks. You can find a more comfortable place to fall asleep in, can't you?

I will say this: the best ideas originate when you think you're talking to the void. Just the idea that you won't be hold accountable for everything you say gives you more freedom. When you know you won't be judged, you're more willing to experiment. Like a tree that falls in the forest with no one around to hear it. No one hear it at the moment, but the tree fell.

Yes, things should unfold naturally. Maybe I never get out of the anonymatum (is that a real word? I think it's a real word. Maybe I'm making it up.) and that's fine too. The words shared are still there and the time spent too.

It's a truth, do you know how many times I've been asked if I came out of the 80s? I don't even do it on purpose. At least I know that if I'm chased by a serial killer I'm probably making it out alive.

By the way you describe your style I can only think of Dune, which is funny because I haven't read the books and only know the vibes. an 80s slasher protagonist with a apocalyptic survivor, amazing combo.

What crochet is, is a pain. I like crocheting but is horrible having to keep count of the stitches. Outside of that it's cool. I don't think I'll lose the fear to needles soon. I had it since I was a toddler and it will chase me down until the end of my life. I mean, if it was necessary I could use one, but unless it is a life or death scenario, I don't want them near me. And also don't forget the smell of antiseptic mixed with pharmaceuticals.

It is definitely stubbornness. I need something to complain about: I run on pure spite and hatred.

It is tripping over itself to sound prettier. The worst part? It fulfills its purpose. You cannot say it's not pretty.

I'm glad my presence is wanted.

-🪞

Alrry if this is incoherence. Ill rewrite this when im not under the influence of alcoholic beverages mmhmm

And the desk was comfy whatcan I say? I think since thefloor is cold I shous sleep on the floor

I ppge the love

II am so sorry yoybhave to see me like this idnr5 wanna seemlike I was ingot you again.

It's okay though is it okay wit youa?

Imdorry

And im in muted now so I won't be trop badly back hurt

and your bloreacne is wanted uhuh uhuh

we lov coherent

don't question. Why isn't intor alcohol because it beo5u24 gagebi5n5o 5o me

Fivk I can barely keep my eyw open

It smells lik3 pizza

Is ir possible to hallu8cne under the infounf3

I 5hink im hallucinations seeing pizza

Bi5 rain is smellnosgood

Im boring

Ramboit

Rabmliny

Rnadom flowers fkr yku that I found on my llĺ Pinterest

#don't talk about tbis when I am wake in the mrong #Im sorry

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downwithpeople · 24 days ago

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x-files roundup

emily: BAD. the follow-up to christmas carol could only be this repugnant. emily is ejected from the story with such urgency it makes me wonder why they bothered in the first place. scully spends a whole episode doing unconvincing playtime with her child and doing mopey carter monologues. mulder straight-up assaults a random pharmaceutical suit in a way that's not just stupid and deeply uncharacteristic but further robs scully of agency in this arc that is supposed to be about her. the alien bounty hunters come back and both agents act completely stupefied at this monster that they've encountered before. it's weirdly fitting that emily's coffin is just filled with nothing but dry, lifeless sand.

kitsunegari: GOOD. this episode is a rehash of pusher that makes no sense and doesn't develop modell in an interesting way. it's not clear at any point why anyone is doing anything - especially modell, who goes from being singularly obsessed with mulder to doing some weird shit with his sister. there's nothing remotely as scary as the self-immolation from the first pusher ep. but uh, it's kinda fun to watch, and the painted guy is kinda cool. this set of eps is really bad so maybe i'm grasping at straws here.

schizogeny: BAD. this one frequently makes the lists of like, top 10 worst x-files eps, which i think is a little harsh. but it's definitely bad and definitely worthy of derision. a child counselor has been doing darksided therapy techniques on abused teens. this same counselor has a split personality from her own abuse, and this split personality gives her control over nature. she sets about using her magic tree powers to kill some bad dads. the episode is solved by an incongruous slavic woodsman who cuts her head off. sarah-jane redmond was moonlighting from over at millennium where i understand she kicks ass as demon serial killer lucy butler, and you can see glimpses of that power here, but she's just not given enough to work with. the story is stupid, the tree powers are silly and it's got this weird pro-child abuse undertone that left a bad taste in my mouth.

chinga: BAD, AYUH. as a Just King Things sicko i was looking forward to watching this since i started the project. if you are familiar with stephen king's history writing screenplays it should come as no surprise that this is dogshit. a spooky girl has a spooky doll with a weirdly vulgar spanish name (don't think it comes up in the episode, but it's definitely referred to as chinga in the screenplay). the spooky doll makes people kill themselves. that familiar king twist from the shockmeister himself is that this is all happening...in maine. the screenplay went through several rewrites so i'm not sure how much is king, but enough of it is king that the quality of this ep is his fault.

this is not a scary episode, because spooky children and spooky dolls are just not that scary. polly is king writing an autistic character, which means she's a demanding little monster with no humanity. every other character is just stock - the nice cop, the hapless mother, the old fisherman.

how do the agents fare? king seems like he fucking loathes mulder, who is irritating comic relief whose sole interest seems to be pestering scully. conversely, king seems to think scully is unbelievably hot - i can't blame him, but putting her in a tshirt with MAINE written across her chest feels like him indulging in a weird little fantasy. we also see her in a bubble bath in which i saw way more of gillian anderson than i was expecting to in this ep. she's on holiday and mulder's useless, so instead she gets...jack, an old mainer cop who's charming and nice and competent and an old-fashioned mainer. much like the chinga doll, i want to put stephen king in a microwave for writing the character of jack. AYUH COUNT: i'm pretty sure at least nine.

#x-files

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derekpadron · 9 months ago

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"Ozzie" Ausberto Colon-Padron, Lissette Colon-Padron, Domingo Padron, Sila Padron, and Leonardo "Lenny" Padron are Human Sex Traffickers in Pembroke Pines, Orlando and Miami, Florida, as unwell as in West New York, New Jersey whereby they give Boys Candies Laced with Street Drugs or Pharmaceutical Drugs, spray Certain French Piscean Neptunian Colognes and Perfumes with Hallucinogenic and Delirium Male and Female French Pheromones, and say to the Boys, "Awww! You Need a Girlfriend! You Know You Are Incomplete Without a Wife..." so that the Boys are tricked and fooled into Romantic French Socialist Piscean Neptunian Delusions and Hallucinations Over A Lover - Or Lovers - That Do Not Exist, so that the Boys Get Lost, Kidnapped, Stabbed in Their Eyes, Tortured, Amputated, Tormented, and Killed by Serial Killers and Thugs in Human Organ Underground Trafficking near Central Florida. The Padrones such as Ausberto "Ozzie" Colon, Lissette Colon-Padron, Domingo Padron, Sila Padron, and Leonardo "Lenny" Padron did this to me, Derek Padron around 1993 since I was about 7 years old, when Lissette Colon-Padron, a 30-year-old Tall and thin woman who has been Fat for over a Decade, would tell me that I had a Small Winky Dink, Small Balls, Tiny Shrimp Testicles, that I was a Shrimp, and that it was because I was Short and Chinese, in front of my Older Sister Marleen Padron, so that they would Gain my Mother's, my Sister's and my Father's Monies that would have gone to me. I want Independence. I am a Man. I do Not need a woman or man to kill me. I do Not want to die of AIDS, Cancerous HPV Warts, Syphilis, Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, or Herpes from a man or woman, or to spread any diseases to my Hardworking, Compassionate Mother who I Love Dearly. I rather be Reliable and Dependable for my Mother!

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honeymaplelatte · 2 years ago

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Dark Red - Rengoku x Reader

What if, on that fateful day nearly a hundred years ago, the demon slayer core had lost?

What if the king of demons had conquered the sun, achieving immortality?

Thrilled to gain an inside eye into the mysterious world of the Blue Spider Corp., Y/N has begun her dream job at the country’s leading pharmaceutical company, owned and operated by none other than the infamous and elusive CEO, Muzan Kibutsuji. In her attempts to establish a place for herself in this peculiar and oftentimes ominous workplace, Y/N catches the attention of dangerous eyes and ghosts of the past. As she begins to uncover the truth behind the veil of secrecy surrounding Mr. Kibutsuji and his empire, she encounters a whole new world of friendship, love, and betrayal.

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Pairings: Rengoku x Y/N, Muzan x Y/N

Content warnings: mentions of violence

It was your first day of work.

Already late despite having sprinted nearly halfway across the city upon realizing you overslept, you finally arrived at the massive, breathtaking glass doors to the largest building in the entire skyline. Frantically huffing as you tried to smooth your hair, your heartbeat thundered in your ears as the adrenaline continued to course through your entire body. All you could think of was how you were about to walk into your own firing on day one.

How could I have blown this? You whined to yourself, horrified that despite setting ten alarms, you had still managed to oversleep due to something as humiliatingly childish as a nightmare. You hardly ever had them, but something about this one had kept you tossing and turning through the night in fits of uneasiness. You blamed the news you had watched the night before.

While the city used to be one of the safest in the world, during the past year it had been plagued by a dark shadow. What started as a freak homicide case quickly became an onslaught of violent murders, leading citizens to believe there was a serial killer, if not an entire group of them, running rampant. There seemed to be no correlation between the victims - just that they were alone and vulnerable. The remains, if anything more than dried blood on the ground, were horrific. You would have sooner thought it was some kind of animal mauling them until it became far too frequent and eerily calculated to be explained so simply. Just last night, they found another young woman - or what was left of her, splattered on the wall of an alley.

Still able to picture the man that had been hunting you through your dreams with his wicked, glowing eyes of blood, a shiver went down your spine. You tried to shove the image out of your mind, well aware that you had far worse real fears to face as soon as you walked through those doors.

You had fought tooth and nail to earn a position at the largest and most elusive pharmaceutical company in the country, Blue Spider Corp. While you had only earned an entry-level position in administrative work, it was notoriously impossible to work your way in, so you had spent years crafting the perfect resume. You were nearly on the verge of tears at the thought that you might have thrown it all away.

No point in throwing a pity party, I just have to walk in there and take it. Holding your head up high, you stepped towards the doors that flew right open, trying to waltz in there like it was your everyday routine. Making your way over to the front desk, you approached a small young woman who appeared around your age typing away at her keyboard. Upon noticing your presence, she glanced up, meeting your eyes with her own which were a dazzling purple. You were taken aback, having never seen eyes such a unique color. Looking closer, you noticed that the ends of her ebony hair faded to a matching shade of violet.

Huh. I honestly imagined a company like this would have a stricter policy on appearances, you thought to yourself before addressing the woman.

“Hi, my name is Y/N, and it’s my first day. I’m running a few minutes behind, but I was supposed to meet with my supervisor, Mrs. Sato?” Your voice shook as you spoke. Damn your nerves.

The woman took in your frazzled disposition, clearly aware of the anxiety surging through you due to your tardiness. After a moment of what seemed to be brief contemplation, she smiled in reply, and for some reason, it gave you a sense of comfort.

“I see. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Kocho. Let me tell her you’ve arrived”. She reached for the phone, dialing your supervisor. Your leg bounced as she relayed your arrival, fighting the urge to bite your fingernails. Following her confirmation, Kocho set the phone down and turned to face you.

“I’ve let her know, and she’s headed here now. Congratulations on your first day. Tell me, are you new to the city?”

“No. Surprisingly enough, I’ve lived here my whole life, so you think I’d know my way around enough to be on time.” You laughed nervously.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You’ve worked hard to prove yourself and earn a position here, I doubt a few minutes would be enough to send you packing. I only asked since we get people from all over the world coming to work here, so I naturally get curious.”

A wave of relief washed over you. Maybe this place wasn’t as cutthroat as you thought it was from its reputation. You thanked God that the first person you encountered had been so welcoming.

Prompt as ever, your new supervisor popped out of the elevator, striding over. She had a scowl on her face, her menacing gaze locking in on you. Your heart sunk to the floor, any hope of recovering from your mistake buried six feet under.

Kocho smiled and began to speak before you had a chance to introduce yourself and grovel for being late.

“Ah, Mrs. Sato! Please forgive Ms. Y/L/N for her tardiness. She actually arrived a few minutes early, but I held her captive with my chattering! ” Kocho giggled, causing Mrs. Sato to glare daggers her way. Your head whipped to Kocho, eyes blown wide with shock.

“A rather incessant habit of yours, Ms. Kocho. I do hope you remember your place, and how particularly replaceable it is.” She spoke coldly.

Mrs. Sato turned back to address you, the wrath in her eyes smoldered to a mere annoyance at Kocho’s carefree antics. Apparently, this wasn’t Kocho’s first time pushing a few buttons.

“I apologize for Ms. Kocho’s lack of professionalism, pay her no mind in the future. Please follow me, and I will get you settled in.”

Following her brief scolding, she abruptly turned, heading back to the elevator. You gave Kocho a look of pure confusion and bewilderment, so grateful you could have cried, to which she simply winked and went back to her computer. After whispering a heartfelt ‘thank you’, you scurried after Mrs. Sato and headed into the elevator.

“Now, to formally introduce myself, I am Mrs. Sato. As you already know, I’ll be your supervisor, which means I will be overseeing you in your training alongside your team members. It’s a relatively small team you’ll be working with, but they’ve been here quite some time, so don’t be afraid to ask them questions.”

“I see. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Sato, and thank you for taking the time to show me what’s expected. I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity, and look forward to working with you all.”

A brief smirk of satisfaction shadowed her face, seemingly pleased with your manners.

“Likewise. It can be a tough job, as we move at a fast pace and expect high output. Work hard, and you’ll be able to keep up.”

You nodded earnestly, taking in her every word. You wanted to do your best to impress your team, hoping to settle in the ranks quickly. The company itself may be shrouded in mystery, but you had heard whispers of how it's a survival-of-the-fittest world behind those glass doors.

“While a majority of what you need to know regarding the role will be covered later today, I’d like to mention a few overall company policies. Firstly, as I’m sure you’re aware, there is to be no photography, videography, or social media posting of any sort within the building, and you’ll be asked to sign an NDA that you will not share any inside information with anyone. We have a rather strict security and privacy policy to ensure our internal affairs are kept confidential.

“Second, the top floor is limited to authorized personnel only. You are never to go there under any circumstance unless directed so by a superior who has an entry permit. Given your position, this should never be asked of you, so I want to ensure you understand that it is essentially off-limits. Any violation of these policies will result in immediate termination.”

“Of course, I understand.” You said, eyes wide. You were well aware of the iron wall between the public/media and the inner world of the company, but you had no idea how extreme the precautions were taken internally as well. There must be some seriously confidential information on that floor. You found this mildly questionable, considering the company produced pharmaceuticals given to the public, but luckily concerns like that were above your pay grade.

“While I know these rules may seem extreme, Mr. Kibutsuji takes these measures to ensure the protection of himself as well as the company.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“Lastly, this is not policy, but merely a word of advice. Should you ever by some chance encounter Mr. Kibutsuji himself, you are not to meet his eye. He is an incredibly private man and prefers a more…traditional form of respect. If he asks anything of you, no matter the request, do it without any questions asked or a moment of hesitation.”

You swallowed thickly, hoping you would never cross paths with the man.

Of all the rumors circulating the company, its largest mystery was shrouded in the CEO, Mr. Kibutsuji himself. No one had ever seen the man’s face, so his notoriety only became sensationalized. Due to his immense fortune and success, he demanded to be completely removed from the public eye. You could only imagine what kind of enemies that level of wealth could incur. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited at the opportunity of potentially seeing the mystery man for yourself when you got the offer, but now it wasn’t exactly a thrilling prospect. It seemed there was a reason he was so notorious, if not feared.

Before you got the chance to even begin to come up with a response to that weirdly ominous warning, the elevator doors pried open with Mrs. Sato promptly exiting to your floor. You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and followed her through the entrance to your new territory.

Taking a moment to admire the breathtakingly modern architectural atmosphere surrounding you that could hardly be described as an office, your eyes greedily took in the seemingly infinite space of desks, seating areas, and floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed light to pour into the floor. And this is only one of them. The workers flew about in an almost comically cinematic manner, with mumbles of ‘Here’s those reports’, and ‘Fifteen until the meeting!’. You fought the urge to break out into a giddy grin, ecstatic to have your first big-city job. Hearing the buzz throughout the room made you process that you’d made it. Walking through a room of what was likely some of the most innovative, hardest-working people in the country, you were able to hold your head just a little bit higher, knowing that your shoes hitting the floor meant you just might be one of them - someone who belonged there.

Snapping you out of your daze, Mrs. Sato rounded a corner and came to a stop, gesturing to an open desk set nestled right along the flow of traffic. Not the window seat you’d secretly hoped for, but maybe it would be a chance to meet some coworkers, at least.

“This desk will be yours, and I’ve already arranged for the necessary paperwork to be delivered to you momentarily. Kanjori from HR should be here any minute, as well as-”

“Is this Y/N!?” A woman’s cheerful squeal cut off Mrs. Sato rather abruptly, much to her distaste.

The culprit sprang around the corner, holding a stack of papers taller than her head. Before you could process how heavy they must have been, the woman practically slammed the stack onto the desk, the obnoxious boom that thundered throughout the room confirming your suspicion (and amazement).

“Kanjori, please keep your voice down,” Mrs. Sato scowled, straightening her glasses.

“Oh yes! Right. My bad.” Kanjori sheepishly laughed. Just as quickly, she whipped her head towards you, taking your hands in hers as her smile glowed.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Kanjori, but I’m sure you gathered that already! I hope we can become great friends! Tell me, do you have any plans for lunch? Why don’t we go together!? If you like ramen there’s this amazing place just down the street, and...”

You could hardly get a word in, but even if you could, you might have been rendered speechless. She was, by every definition of the word, beautiful. She had curves in all the right places that would put models to shame, and to match it a smile brighter than the sun itself. You found yourself flushed with an embarrassing level of envy at the pure sensuality radiating from her. Gauging from the looks of the men at the surrounding desks suddenly sitting straighter to preen themselves with rosy cheeks, you knew you weren’t the only one who thought so.

Another figure rounded the corner in a flash, seemingly instantly flashing into the conversation.

“Kanjori, I love the enthusiasm! However, after the last incident, we were told to take a more subtle-”

The voice trailed off, coming to a faltered stop as your eyes met those of the man it belonged to.

Towering over you was suddenly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. If you thought Kocho’s eyes had been a shock, meeting your inspection were eyes of pure ruby and gold, more mesmerizing than a summer sunset. Amazingly enough, his golden hair had warm tips of crimson that appeared shockingly natural. His gaze was frozen, taking you in with a sense of curiosity that made heat rush to your face.

It was almost as if the very essence of his being was ablaze.

#demon slayer #anime #kny x y/n #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro x y/n #hashira #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x y/n #tanjiro kamado #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinaguzawa #mitsuri kanjori #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #tengen uzui

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blogger360ncislarules · 5 months ago

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This chilling new crime drama gets major kudos for casting. As star Melissa Roxburgh confesses, the first time she faced off against an actor hired to play a psychotic mass murderer in a tense interrogation scene, she told him, “Ooh, if I met you on the street, I would run!”

When The Hunting Party returns February 10 with its second episode — the first is available to stream now on Peacock — viewers can look forward to plenty of running (and shooting and outsmarting) for Roxburgh, who plays Bex Henderson, a former FBI profiler now leading a team tracking down serial killers who escaped when a top-secret prison was destroyed in a mysterious explosion.

David Astorga / NBC

Nicknamed “the Pit,” the facility, which goes boom in the series premiere, was in a converted nuclear missile silo in Wyoming and housed hundreds whose supposed executions had been faked. The series launches with 10 episodes, each of which covers the search for a different killer. In the opening hour, the hunt is on for a maniac who blinds women as revenge on his mother, who locked him in a dark basement. There’s a government cover-up after the explosion, of course, and the inmates must be nabbed fast.

Bex is up to the task. Roxburgh compares her to Michaela Stone, the cop she portrayed on NBC/Netflix’s Manifest (2018–23). “Bex is tenacious, stubborn, strong-willed. I carry a bit of stubbornness, so I can relate.” The actress also connects to the role thanks to college studies in criminology, including a seminar analyzing the likes of Ed Gein and Ted Bundy.

Still, these are more than your average repeat slashers. The inmates have been subjected to experiments that have further twisted their already creepy minds. (The plot point was inspired by MKUltra, a CIA program that tested psychological torture techniques, in use from 1953 to 1973.) And Bex fears that among the escapees is Eli Johnson (Mark Moses), a killer she helped catch as a teen by listening in on her sheriff dad’s phone calls for clues.

“The prison is a lab that was used [through] many decades by the pharmaceutical industries, the defense industries, the military,” says executive producer Jake Coburn, who runs the show with series creator JJ Bailey. “It’s a government conspiracy that just keeps unfolding.”

Even the president is in the dark, so it’s no surprise that Bex must deal with false information, says Roxburgh: “One thing that drives the mystery is that no one really knows who’s in charge.” Also, the brilliant special agent can’t even be sure who among her squad colleagues to trust.

NBC

Take the prison warden, Oliver Odell (Nick Wechsler, Revenge), who’s put on the team due to his experience with the escapees. He was Bex’s FBI mentor, but his unethical treatment of a suspect drove them apart. “It’s been [five] years since they’ve seen each other and nothing’s been resolved,” Roxburgh says. “Who is he as a person having done what he did?” Flashbacks during the first episode piece together that fateful past operation, which also brought Bex together with her adopted, now-college-age daughter Sam (Kyra Leroux).

No matter how terribly things ended with Odell, “they shared a lot of love prior,” Roxburgh says. And yes, there was romantic tension, which returns. Plus, “everyone loves a good triangle, so we see snippets of that,” Roxburgh reveals. The third side is a prison guard/former military man, Shane Florence (Josh McKenzie, La Brea). He and Bex bond quickly after sharing stories of past traumas. “Shane becomes Bex’s safe place, someone she can trust completely. But he’s got his own bag of secrets,” Roxburgh says.

The team’s de facto manager is the CIA’s Jacob Hassani (Patrick Sabongui, Homeland), who has long hunted terrorists and traffickers. He reports directly to the attorney general, Elizabeth Mallory (Zabryna Guevara). “Hassani is running the day-to-day operations from the CIA perspective. He’s brought in to clean this up,” Bailey says.

Whoever’s in charge has provided a big budget. The hunters’ massive plane doubles as a war room, so they can quickly fly to destinations nationwide where the escaped killers have been spotted.

They also get a hand from military intelligence officer Jennifer Morales (Sara Garcia, The Flash). Once an ace student in Bex’s officer candidate course in behavioral science at Quantico, “she’s a drop of sunshine in a dark world,” Bailey says.

That world comes through in the series’ big-picture mystery as the team gets clues on who was behind the prison break and why. We’ll learn, says Roxburgh, “how international this goes.” But the more pressing issues come each week as the hunting party does its job. In each episode, says Roxburgh, we’re left to “wonder who’s going to get hurt. And is everyone going to make it out alive?”

#the hunting party

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catofadifferentcolor · 27 days ago

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Now That's What I Call Buns: A Miscellaneous Terrible Fic Idea Master List

In my time on Tumblr, I've posted a number of terrible fic ideas. These are the ones for various fandoms which don't necessitate their own masterpost.

Assassin's Creed

(85) And the River of Time: AC/TOG crossover, in which Merrick Pharmaceuticals tries to get one over on their competitor, Abstergo Industries

Chronicles of Narnia

(82) Chronicles of Winterfell: ASOIAF Narnia AU in which Jon, Sansa, Arya, and Bran return quite changed from their time as kings and queens

Conclave

(100) Keep the Earth below my Feet: HP/Conclave crossover, in which after dying Harry finds himself in an alternate universe where Tom Riddle was adopted by the Lawrence family

Criminal Minds

(58) Unknown Demigod: PJO/Criminal Minds crossover, in which a serial killer in Oakland Hills reveals Special Agent Percy Jackson’s demigod background

Hannibal

(54) Like Blood for Wine: The love affair of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, as told in monthly installments with recipes

House

(89) Tale as Old as Time: House/OUAT crossover in which Emma Swan gets a GED, becomes a doctor, and is working at Princeton-Plainsboro on her 28th birthday

Marvel Cinematic Universe

(87) I Would Stay Forever: PJO/MCU crossover, in which Percy Jackson is Peter Parker’s caseworker after May’s untimely death

Once Upon a Time

(89) Tale as Old as Time: House/OUAT crossover in which Emma Swan gets a GED, becomes a doctor, and is working at Princeton-Plainsboro on her 28th birthday

Star Trek

(98) How Long Is Forever: Everyone knows Captain Pike and Commander Burnham have been married for years; somehow no one realizes its to each other

(99) Lonely is the Night: In which Jonathan Archer's time traveling transporter twin winds up in the AOS universe, saves the day, and falls head over heels for Christopher Pike

Stargate SG-1

(61) All Our Lives: TOG/SG1 crossover; The Old Guard have been called many things over the years, but they’ve never been accused of being aliens with god complexes before

The Witcher

(57) The Last Quest: PJO/Accidental Warlord crossover, in which Percy’s unwilling vacation at Karen Morhen turns out to be the mental health break he needed

(12) Not Yet, Not Yet: In which Jaskier is the impetus for the Witcher conquest of the Continent; an accidental warlord prequel

More Terrible Fic Ideas

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antaxzantax · 9 months ago

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 58

Summary:

Alfred Ashford and Auguste Campbell continue in the abandoned factory. Confrontation between Alexia Ashford and William Birkin.

Neglect had cracked the walls and soiled the floors to the point of merging the dust with the mould that seeped through the dampness of the ceiling. A horror vacui of graffiti covered the frame of the building and much of its skeleton.

Alfred unlocked a rusty gate to access the lower floor of what was once a factory for the production of glyphosates. He climbed down metal stairs to a catwalk that led to one of the synthesis chambers. There he built his temple to Leviathan, where Auguste and Peter awaited him.

At the temple to Leviathan, he was greeted by an intense stench of disinfectant that clogged his nostrils. Auguste was waiting for him seated in one of the two armchairs placed at the end of the room to contemplate the spectacle offered by Peter. Peter was lying on the floor between the two pools of corpses.

Alfred did not announce his return, but directly sat down on the free armchair and lit up a cigarette, refusing the joint Auguste offered him.

Peter got up from the floor.

A sacrifice was being tossed around inside a burlap sack hanging from the ceiling.

Auguste leaned back in his seat. Alfred poured himself a glass of wine.

The god of Flesh was thirsty for blood.

“Ben Bertolucci.”

“What?”

“Ben Bertolucci!”

The receptionist wrote his name on a piece of paper. Ben showed her his credentials as a freelance journalist.

“What are you doing here? Are you here to sell an exclusive?” The secretary stapled together a document, ignoring Ben.

“I'm on my way to get that exclusive. Could I speak to the editor-in-chief?”

The secretary turned in her chair and dialled an internal number. She spoke loudly to her interlocutor and then hung up.

“First floor on the right. Hurry up.”

“Thank you.”

Ben slung his rucksack over his shoulder and trotted to the first floor. M. Wood. Editor-in-chief of the Raccoon Times. He knocked on the door.

“Hello? I'm Ben Bertolucci.”

“Come in!”

“Ben stepped into the disorganised office. The editor-in-chief greeted him with a cup of coffee in one hand and a freshly baked newspaper in the other.”

“What do you want from us, Mr. Bertolucci?”

“An exclusive: the mysterious disappearances taking place in the slums of Raccoon City.”

“Do you really consider it an exclusive?”

“Yes, and for a very simple reason: there is a pattern. A perfectly clear pattern. There have been a total of 10 disappearances. All 10 disappearances share the same homeless men from the same slums, and they all have a family member who is a university student, specifically a family member who is studying at Raccoon City University.”

The editor-in-chief took off her newspaper and coffee cup to light up a cigarette.

“You mean a serial killer?”

“No. Not at all! It is something else. A very powerful thing. Before coming here I did a little preliminary research. It turns out that the university relatives of the 10 deceased agree that they met a blond man and a red-haired man in the days before their relatives disappeared. The blond man introduced himself as a doctoral student studying poverty and lifestyle in industrialised Midwestern cities. How about that?”

“So what?”

“A high-impact story about a disappearance plot involving Raccoon City University and a couple of suspects?”

The editor-in-chief raised her eyebrows.

“Do what you want. But we will review the material before publication. We have a good relationship with the university and we are a very small newspaper. Don't screw it up.”

“Of course I won't screw it up. Trust me!”

“Go away.”

Ben Bertolucci left the newsroom with the promise of future high-impact reporting.

Alfred brought a typewriter with him to the factory. His slip-up with the police and the subsequent conversation with his sister and father had inspired him to change his perspective on the development of his doctoral thesis. He did not want it to be a standard academic analysis, but a more personal and original work.

The subject of the thesis was the socio-political transition that took place in Northern England between the end of feudalism and the beginning of capitalism, and according to the thesis of biopower proposed by Michel Foucault. A theme that fitted in perfectly with what he was doing in the factory. A question of biopower, that was the god of Flesh; of control of bodies and their wills.

On the other hand, he stopped taking drugs. Apart from the risk, the new perspective deserved the full attention of his senses, as he devoted himself to narrating the emotions and feelings he experienced during the rituals and then relating them to the rest of the study. He did not think that this particular part would make it into the final version, but he could reuse it to publish a self-illustrated novel or as part of a larger independent research project.

In conclusion, it had been proposed to complete the PhD by the end of next year. For this reason, the number of total sacrifices was agreed at 15.

15 and end.

Annette made her way to the changing room to get out of her uniform and change into nice, comfortable clothes. She would meet William outside the building to drive home. It was two o'clock in the morning.

Her salary had been raised. She as a lab technician and William as chief researcher. Without warning or explanation, it had simply happened. They were also paid double overtime. In this way, they had promised to pay the last installments on the car and part of the mortgage, although they had both increased their bank credit by enrolling Sherry in the best private school in the county. But their financial affairs didn't worry them. Their biggest source of stress came from Alexia Ashford.

William was back on his antidepressants. Annette tried to talk him out of starting the medication again, but William gave in to temptation and popped the prescribed pills for a full day. Alexia had beaten him at his own work and under his own nose. William had failed; he was a failure and he couldn't stand himself.

Apathy settled back into the Birkin household, and it was becoming unbearable. When the incident in the laboratory occurred, she fought for William because she really loved him. They met by chance at Arklay and she decided to stay by his side because she believed in his ambition and good character. It was also a radical departure from her previous partners and a chance to redirect her own aspirations. She was never attracted to the life of a housewife with a dog and child, so she chose to fulfil her own American dream by pursuing a career in biochemistry, a career she studied hard for after abandoning her vocation for philology.

Sherry's birth was unexpected, but they had no regrets. On the contrary, William proved to be quite a competent father despite his social awkwardness and workaholism. But despite the difficulties, they managed to build a happy little family, or so they thought. Be that as it may, the incident with Alexia threw everything into disarray. Annette fought for William in the hospital and during his convalescence. She fought for him in his worst moments and until he himself bounced back. She hated Alexia for what happened, but she had to swallow her pride when William made it clear that he would not leave Umbrella.

William returned to Umbrella, and now they were worse off than before. In her rare moments alone, Annette pondered the possibility of divorce. She loved William, but his behaviour was beginning to be excessively erratic, and she feared for Sherry and for her own life. If William didn't realise the damage he was doing, Annette would have to take steps of her own; even if it was a separation without divorce.

Annette entered the changing room.

“How long are we going to be locked up here? It's like a prison.”

A shower tap turned on. Annette did not recognise the voice, but it seemed to belong to a very young woman of British origin. Annette quietly approached the shower space. Hidden behind the corner of the wall, Annette spotted two naked women. Alexia and a stranger. The stranger was leaning against the wall opposite Alexia, who was washing her hair without paying much attention to the other woman.

“It's your fault. Couldn't you behave like a normal fucking person for a couple of hours?! Because of you my father is going to be lynched!”

The unknown woman was arguing with Alexia, but the latter seemed more focused on taking a shower.

“What now? Are we going to live here forever? I slept terribly tonight. Those weren't mattresses, they were mats. I want to go home. To my bedroom. I want to get my life together. I need to talk to my boyfriend.”

“Talk to him.”

“Oh, right. I'll tell Daniel that I'm locked up in a fucking clandestine lab because my dear cousin Alexia came up with the brilliant idea of bumping off the asshole who harassed her during the party I threw with my father's friends' kids. Great! Amazing story!”

Alexia turned off the tap. Annette hid in one of the cubicles.

“Ogie is also busy.”

“Ogie is an asshole. If they put him in jail with Alf for what he's doing at the factory, he deserves it. But I don't deserve to go to jail. I didn't do anything! Do you hear me, Alexia?! I didn't do anything wrong! You're the bad guy! You're the one who killed John!”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps? Perhaps?! My God, there are stones with more sensitivity than you. Why the hell are you like that?!”

“Because I'm a crazy punk.”

“Alexia, don't start. Just because your childhood sucked doesn't excuse you killing John.”

Silence.

“No,” said Alexia.

“Alexia... Seriously, it doesn't make sense. It's absurd, and you've never been stupid.”

“I don't want to talk about this any more.”

“Why, are you going to isolate yourself in your room and ignore everyone like you always do? Is that how a genius like you solves problems?”

Annette nearly had a heart attack with the tremendous punch Alexia threw at the locker.

“You don't scare me at all, Alexia,” said the unknown woman. “You're angry because you hate the world you live in and you hate yourself, and the hatred you feel is eating you up inside. That's why you're bitching at that employee, Birkin, because you want to destroy him. Because you want to destroy everything!!!!” The unknown woman slapped Alexia's face. “Stop victimising yourself and react!”

Alexia and the unknown woman left the changing room shortly afterwards. Annette emerged from the cubicle, her nerves raw. She hurriedly got dressed and ran to the entrance to tell William what she had heard.

“William, please don't go!” Annette pleaded.

William went to the laboratory's secretariat.

“Where is Alexia?!”

The secretary was reluctant to respond.

“Call her, damn it!”

The clerk called Alexia Ashford's office.

“William Birkin wants to speak to you. I understand. She is in her office.”

William ran to the office. He knocked on the door three times and went through.

Nobody was there.

The door closed behind him and someone bolted it.

Alexia faced him. William was hyperventilating. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face. He gritted his teeth with all his might.

“I killed a man,” said Alexia.

William swallowed hard.

“Electrocution. He had a cardiac arrest. I felt no regret.”

Alexia made her way to her desk, where she sat down, leaning on the edge of the table.

“If you had killed me that time, would you have regretted it?” she continued.

William did not move from his spot, focused as he was on Alexia's speech.

“What the hell do you want from me?” William asked, his jaw aching.

“Your first reaction to the loss was attempted murder.”

“Because I was furious! Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“My reaction to the loss was similar.”

William hesitated.

“I saw myself reflected in your anger. Strange.”

“What?”

“My father wanted to fire you and ruin your life. I interceded on your behalf and proposed your promotion to chief researcher. I want us to work together.”

William put his hands to his head, completely confused.

“Wait, wait. Start from the beginning. You destroyed my virus and now you want to work together, and after what happened? Are you crazy?”

“Would you have regretted it?”

William smiled.

“I would have regretted ending up in jail... but not your death. Fuck.” William had definitely earned his dismissal.

“Would you try again?”

William relaxed his hands so as not to succumb to temptation. He did not answer. Alexia smiled subtly. A gloomy silence hung between the two of them. William thought for a split second about both possibilities, what if he killed her, while another voice inside reminded him of Annette's and Sherry's names.

“What do you want from me?”

Alexia walked around the table and sat down in the armchair.

“We will meet again at 17:00, or 5 p.m.”

William unlocked the door and walked out of the office. That she had seen herself reflected in him. Was she testing him? And why was she testing him by destroying the G-virus? What did it mean that she felt the same anger? The unknowns were piling up, as the answers were trickling down the drain.

What was Alexia Ashford's intention?

Dear blank page:

My name is Amelia Campbell. I was born into a Scottish family descended from the Stuarts. I spent my childhood in our castle in Glasgow and my teenage years at boarding school. Two months ago I turned 19. I have been living in a laboratory for a month because my cousin Alexia killed a human being.

I am a good Christian. I am not like my big brother. I am good. I am not like the rest of my family, like my father and my mother. I am good. I am not like the Ashfords. I am good. My heart is kind, in spite of the trials that fate puts me through. I am good and I will prove that I am good and that I am not like Alexia, but God has tested me again.

Alexia has begun to sympathise with William. That man who once tried to kill her over something as stupid as a test tube. Why does God always make it difficult for me? If Alexia is able to show sympathy for a stranger, it means that I will have to show a higher morality in order not to fall into evil. But what if it's a ploy? Alexia could kill William or stop sympathising with him at any time, so I would have passed the test. I pray to God it's the second option.

Amelia Campbell

Dear paper:

Alexia and William continue to socialise. I have seen them chatting on the sly and for several hours. They keep talking. I am disturbed by their suddenly good relationship. I know Alexia has a plan. I can feel it. Annette seems just as disturbed as I am.

Amelia Campbell

Dear crumpled paper:

And there was light. Back to Scotland. To my home. Sasha has arranged everything. Thank God, freedom. But an unexpected event has occurred. Alexia has invited William to Ashford Hall. Yes, crumpled paper, as you read: Alexia has invited William to Ashford Hall for a few days to, she says, continue research into the Progenitor virus. I don't know what happened and I don't care. BACK TO SCOTLAND.

PS: Ogie sucks. He is still fucking around in the factory with Alfred. Idiots.

Amelia Campbell

His brain was throbbing. His wrists and ankles ached from the locking restraints. Strapped to a gurney, William had become a mass of flesh that existed to breathe and withstand the thrust of the drugs seeping into his nervous system.

He didn't know where he was. All he remembered was a man Alexander called Ward. It was this Ward who started talking to William. Ward convinced him that he had broken the Ashford's trust when he tried to escape from their mansion, but that Alexander was willing to forgive him. William did not want to return to Ashford Hall. At Ashford Hall he had discovered horror.

For a week he was alone in that house. De Vermis Mysteriis. The book led him to a dungeon filled with esoteric superciliousness, and to an altar of sacrifice. Stanley Ashford's voice echoed pristine through the loudspeaker: Ïa! Aa! Azathoth! He went mad as, in the kitchen, he read Thomas Ashford's recipe book for flaying a human body and eating it. He vomited when he went into one of the guest rooms and discovered the tools Arthur Ashford had used to perform lobotomies and trepanations. Photographs showed how they worked: children with their skulls pierced and maps with racial hierarchies. In the basement he also saw her. Resting in her tomb, the mummy of Veronica Ashford lay at the heart of the pyramid. But the worst came when he finished listening to Edward Ashford's autobiographical recordings. He created the Progenitor virus as a replacement for the atomic bomb.

William broke through one of the doors and fled. Nowhere. Everywhere. But they stopped him in his stampede through the Cheviot Hills. They tied him up and put a bag over his head. He woke up tied to a steel chair and in a straitjacket.

Alexander Ashford.

Alexander spoke to him as if he were his father. He told him that Alexia protected him and that he would survive. But that protection had not been given to him in exchange for anything. William would have to repay Alexia. William would have to prove to the Ashfords that he was worthy of their trust. There would be no second chances. Loyalty or death.

William chose loyalty. He sacrificed himself for his wife and for his daughter.

Alexander disappeared.

William was thrown into a padded cell. His mind was blank. Stupid, William, I warned you, Albert would have said. You were never very mature, his parents would have said. Indeed, I was never very mature and he had failed, anger being the only thing driving his body's mechanisms.

That was the end of him. The end of a life devoted to zero ambition. Really, he should have devoted himself to astrophysics.

The door to his cell opened.

Alexia.

Her existence was fragmentary.

First of all, there was an Alexia who was happy. A naïve and curious Alexia, unaware that she was conceived as the by-product of a transitory selfishness. Elizabeth missed that Alexia. But she had disappeared.

Secondly, there was an Alexia who was thrown into an adult world that both admired and repudiated her. An Alexia who learned to behave according to the taste of adults. An Alexia who learned to override her emotions in order to survive her feelings. An Alexia who never felt understood because adults, including her father, had erected an imaginary wall separating her, the exception, from the common, the experience of the common being what should determine the exception. An Alexia who focused on books so as not to let herself drown in anguish; so as not to let herself be suffocated by the strange thoughts that assailed her. What if she disappeared? But that Alexia did not disappear, she was transformed.

Thirdly, there was an Alexia who, confined in a laboratory, imagined herself as the queen of a fairy tale. An Alexia who wanted to create her own utopia. A utopia without suffering, without anguish, without adults, without emotions or feelings. A utopia tailored to her will. But the will disappeared. The queen died.

Fourthly, there was an absent Alexia. An Alexia who secluded herself in the safety of her room to escape the outside world. Between the ages of 12 and 16, this absent Alexia took refuge in the shelter of her broken dreams. An Alexia who, despite getting her doctorate and continuing to fulfil the dreams of adults, existed for and because of her fantasies. Melancholic fantasies about the loss of will and of what could have been and never was.

Fifthly, there was a lost Alexia. An Alexia who left the room because of the only person who really loved her. Alfred. But his love was never enough to defeat the monster that germinated inside her. A monster that fed on her despair, her helplessness and her anger at not being able to decide who she was. A monster that was throwing her past happiness in her face, that was tempting her with the memory of T-Veronica, that was convincing her to sink into seclusion, that was whispering in her ear to commit suicide. A lost Alexia who only felt the anger born of her helplessness at being unable to know who she was; the naïve Alexia, the queen Alexia, the absent Alexia or the lost Alexia.

Alfred could not help her. Alexander never knew how to be her father. Elizabeth never knew how to love her. And her lineage, the Ashfords, and her dynasty, the Stuarts, chained her to carry on the tradition of those who were dead.

But she wanted to live. Not to live according to the dictates of adults, but to live according to her will. The adults tried to tame her with therapy and medication, but they never succeeded. Because there was something in her, an Alexia, that always rebelled. An indomitable force in her being that kept her alive because it never died out. And this being had one thing to do. A test. A confirmation. A verdict. A question to which it must now answer. However, the questioner was not supposed to be her. It had to be an outsider who was also capable of understanding the monster that was roaring inside her.

A desperate measure. A blind shot. A miscalculation. But I couldn't waste any more time. It had to be now.

Alexia opened the door of the cell where her father had imprisoned William Birkin.

“William.”

William's eyes narrowed, but he was conscious.

“What...”

“I need your help.”

“What for...”

“To conclude our conversation.”

“We've talked about many things....”

“About what we talked about that time in the sewer.”

William opened his eyes wide.

“The world sucks,” he said.

“We need to conclude the conversation.”

William closed his eyes.

“Get me out of here,” he said.

“We fly to Canada. There we will decide what to do next.”

“Annette. Sherry. I'm sorry.”

Alexia unstrapped William from the stretcher. They both ran to the exit.

Police search a factory with 14 mutilated bodies inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on, dad, pick up the fucking phone.”

“Yes? Who's calling?”

“Dad, it's Alfred. Dad, please, you have to help me.”

“What happened?”

“The factory, dad, they've discovered the factory.”

“Where are you?”

“At home, with Auguste and Peter.”

“God... Go to the airport. Go to Rockfort. Quickly!”

#resident evil #resident evil code veronica #alexia ashford #alfred ashford #alexander ashford #william birkin #annette birkin

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