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[isecuritysystem]

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[thedensworld]

Case 143 | K.Mg

Pairing: Detective!Mingyu x reader

Genre: action, romance, ex Au

Summary: Mingyu and Y/n are exes. One day, they have to work a case together and it makes the situation uncomfortable for both teams. Besides for the rookie, Hansol.

Breathless and with his heart pounding against his ribcage, Mingyu pushed himself to keep running. Every inhale felt like fire in his lungs, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him going. The urgency of catching Kim Jiheon, the elusive drug dealer he had been tracking for weeks, was consuming him.

His legs threatened to give out beneath him, protesting each step he took, but the thought of letting Jiheon slip through his fingers was unbearable. Alone and racing against time, Mingyu cursed under his breath as he sprinted towards the harbor. His team, blissfully unaware of the unfolding situation, was probably enjoying their dinner, oblivious to his urgent call for backup.

Frantically, he dialed the rookie of his team, Hansol, hoping beyond hope that his message had been received. Mingyu needed everyone at the harbor, and he needed them there now. The distance seemed endless, each stride feeling like an eternity as he fought against exhaustion and desperation.

As Mingyu finally reached the harbor, his eyes scanned the area, searching for any sign of his team. But there was nothing. Doubt crept into his mind. Had Hansol even relayed his message? Was he truly alone in this race against time?

Despite the doubt gnawing at him, Mingyu clenched his jaw, refusing to give up. With determination burning in his eyes, he squared his shoulders and prepared to face whatever lay ahead. Kim Jiheon would not escape him, not this time.

Fortunately for Mingyu, his years of dedicated workouts and cardio had honed his body into a well-oiled machine, allowing him to chase down Kim Jiheon with impressive speed and agility. Even as fatigue threatened to overwhelm him, he pushed himself harder, driven by sheer determination to apprehend his elusive target.

It was a testament to Mingyu's resourcefulness that he had managed to uncover Jiheon's plans to ship out tonight. Yet, despite his strategic prowess, a pang of frustration surged through him as he realized his own clumsiness had led to him misplacing his gun at the worst possible moment. Shooting Jiheon's leg would have simplified matters, but fate seemed to have other plans.

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the night air, sending Mingyu's heart racing as Jiheon crumpled to the ground, his leg now wounded and useless. Relief flooded through Mingyu as he spotted the familiar figure holding the pistol, their timely intervention saving the day.

With a steadying breath, Mingyu hurried to Jiheon's side, his movements deliberate as he secured the handcuffs around the criminal's wrists. A mixture of triumph and exhaustion washed over him as he delivered a sharp slap near Jiheon's gunshot wound, a small act of retribution for the chase that had left him soaked with sweat.

As a car and a bike approached, Mingyu watched with a mixture of relief and anticipation as the people inside sprang into action, swiftly attending to the fallen Jiheon. "Nice shot, captain!" one of them exclaimed, praising the biker who had delivered the decisive blow. Mingyu's eyes met hers as she removed her helmet, her intense gaze locking onto him.

There was a palpable tension in the air as she approached Mingyu, her scowl evident even from a distance. Despite the exchange of the gun between them, her anger seemed to simmer just beneath the surface, casting a shadow over the otherwise triumphant moment.

Effortlessly catching the gun she tossed to him, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between them. Even as he rose to his feet, his body still thrumming with adrenaline, her continued displeasure weighed heavily on him.

As their eyes met once more, Mingyu couldn't help but protest, "Don't look at me like that." He rose from his brief respite, his voice tinged with defiance.

She rolled her eyes in response, her frustration evident. "Like what? Like looking at an idiot? Yeah! I am looking at an idiot who dropped his gun while running. Why are you even here? It's my case!"

Mingyu coughed, feeling the weight of her words like a punch to the gut. "It's related to my department, so it's natural for me to investigate it as well."

She shook her head, her tone firm. "It's one hundred percent on the Narcotic Department. Violence and Crime have zero relevance to this case. Also, your team doesn't have an investigation permission letter. So whatever you're doing right now, it's not under the office regulations," she explained, her words cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Good you're not dead," she muttered under her breath before swiftly donning her helmet.

Mingyu's heart sank at her dismissive words, but he refused to let his pride get the better of him. "Can I join you?" he asked, stepping forward.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable as she removed her helmet. "Where's your car? How could you even get here in the first place?" she questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of embarrassment at his lack of preparedness. But as he met her gaze, determination flickered in his eyes. "I found a way," he muttered, his resolve unwavering despite the obstacles in his path.

Mingyu didn't waste time with words. Instead, he reached for the helmet in her hand and the key, determination shining in his eyes. "Let's go," he said, motioning for her to join him on the back seat.

"Riding without a helmet is illegal, Kim Mingyu. We're police officers," she reminded him firmly.

A smirk played at the corners of Mingyu's lips as he tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a sense of camaraderie. "Well said, Ji Y/n. We're police officers."

*

Mingyu stood at the front of his team, his expression stern as he addressed each member in turn. With their heads bowed and hands folded behind their backs, they listened intently to his lecture, knowing they had failed their leader.

For seven minutes, Mingyu recounted the events of that fateful night, emphasizing the gravity of the situation had he been left to face danger alone. His voice carried a mixture of disappointment and frustration, each word punctuated by the weight of missed opportunities and the consequences of their negligence.

Hansol, the rookie whose distraction had led to Mingyu's solitary struggle, felt the weight of guilt settle heavy in his chest. The memory of the grandmother he had helped with directions now felt like a betrayal, a selfish act that had left his team leader vulnerable and alone in the line of duty.

As Mingyu concluded his lecture, his gaze swept over his team, the disappointment in his eyes unmistakable. Yet, beneath the reprimand, there was a glimmer of determination—a resolve to ensure that such a lapse in communication would never happen again.

Mingyu's commanding presence filled the room as he addressed his team, his eyes sweeping over each member with a sense of authority. "I want you to summarize an essay about how important teamwork is in our field and the role of the leader," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, Lee Seokmin, Seo Myungho, Boo Seungkwan, Lee Chan, and Choi Hansol snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute as a promise to fulfill their leader's directive.

As Mingyu's gaze lingered on Hansol, a sense of disappointment flickered in his eyes. "And Hansol," he added, his voice firm. "Face me after doing 20 laps of a run."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Mingyu dismissed his team, the air thick with the unspoken promise of accountability and unity in the face of adversity. They had learned a valuable lesson, one that would shape their future actions and reinforce the bonds of trust and solidarity among them. Mingyu turned on his heel and made his exit, leaving the room buzzing with a newfound sense of purpose and determination. Each member of the team knew that they had a responsibility to uphold, not only to their leader but to each other as well.

A shout erupted from Seungkwan, his voice echoing through the room, "I'm relieved that I'm not the rookie anymore, but I feel bad for Hansol." His frustration was palpable as he reached for the book sitting untouched on the bookcase for what seemed like ages—a self-improvement book on leadership and teamwork bought by their team leader, Kim Mingyu.

Lee Chan flopped onto the couch, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. He leaned back, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. "Then do his assignment instead," he mumbled, the remnants of their beef dinner lulling him into a sleepy stupor.

Seungkwan's fingers traced the embossed title of the book, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. Relief mingled with guilt as he thought of Hansol, burdened with the weight of being the rookie. Mingyu's gesture was well-intentioned, but it only served to highlight the disparities within their team. As he flipped through the pages, Seungkwan couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him.

Myungho gently tapped Hansol's shoulder, offering reassurance in his touch. "It's not totally your fault, Hansol. That case isn't officially ours, so even if we're losing it, it wouldn't be our responsibility," he explained calmly to the younger member.

Hansol's brow furrowed in surprise, his eyes betraying his confusion. "But didn't we work hard on that case? Is it really okay to just let it go like that?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Myungho nodded understandingly, his expression empathetic. "We assumed there might be a gang involved in Park Jiheon's case. But his capture definitely isn't in our hands," he clarified, his tone gentle yet firm as he tried to alleviate Hansol's worries.

Hansol sighed, a weight seeming to lift from his shoulders as he processed Myungho's words.

Seokmin chimed in, his voice carrying a sense of solidarity as he echoed Myungho's sentiments. "Don't worry about Mingyu, he just wasn't in the mood," he reassured, his tone soothing as he tried to ease any lingering concerns.

Chan's hands met in a soft clap of realization, his eyes widening with understanding. "Right? He's never scolded us that much before. I was really worried when he called. But then, when I saw him arriving on bike earlier..." Chan trailed off, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I knew," he concluded, his voice filled with certainty.

Seungkwan chuckled, his laughter ringing out in the room. "I saw them too. Kim Mingyu, our team leader..." he began, a hint of amusement evident in his tone as he recalled the sight of Mingyu's unexpected mode of transportation.

Sensing that the conversation was veering off track, Myungho interjected, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Let's finish our assignment before midnight," he urged, directing everyone's attention back to the task at hand. With a determined stride, he made his way to his desk, ready to dive into the work.

Seokmin reached out to Hansol, his offer of assistance laced with genuine concern. "Hansol," he called out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You can start your run. I'll take care of your assignment." The weight lifted from Hansol's shoulders as he breathed a sigh of relief, gratitude evident in his expression. He offered a quick word of thanks to Seokmin before hurrying out into the backyard, his mind already racing ahead to the looming encounter with their team leader.

As Hansol disappeared from view, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Each member of the team understood the importance of their roles, the weight of their responsibilities hanging heavy in the air. With determination etched on their faces, they set to work, united in their mission to meet the deadline and prove their worth as a team.

*

"I've read your report on the potential Cubic involvement in Park Jiheon's case, and I truly appreciate your astuteness in uncovering this," Chief Park acknowledged, his tone conveying a mix of admiration and seriousness. "However, I can't simply assign this case to your department without the Narcotics Department's involvement, especially considering it's already under their investigation," he explained, his words carrying a weight of deliberation and careful consideration.

As Chief Park's gaze shifted to Choi Seungcheol, the Head of the Violence and Crime Department, the room fell silent, all eyes turning to await his response. Superintendent Choi's expression remained composed, his mind already racing through the implications of Chief Park's words. With a thoughtful nod, he prepared to offer his insight, knowing that the decision ahead would shape the course of their investigation and the fate of their team.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted to Mingyu, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. "There are cases that require the expertise of special teams from different departments, sir. It's quite common in our line of work. If involving our team will expedite the process, then we should proceed," he stated confidently, his tone firm yet respectful as he laid out their rationale.

Chief Park nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging Seungcheol's explanation. "Alright, I'll speak with Superintendent Yoon about this matter and keep you both informed," he confirmed, his expression reflecting a blend of contemplation and gratitude. "Thank you so much for your input," he added, appreciating the insight offered by his dedicated team members. As the conversation drew to a close, the room buzzed with a sense of anticipation, each member silently hoping for a favorable outcome.

Mingyu and Seungcheol strode out of the Chief's office in unison, the weight of the conversation lingering heavily between them. Frustration etched lines on Mingyu's usually cheerful face, his hand harshly rubbing at his forehead in a futile attempt to erase the tension. Seungcheol, observant as ever, couldn't ignore the sudden shift in his junior's demeanor.

"What's wrong?" Seungcheol asked, his own irritation growing as he tried to decipher what had dimmed the usually bright spirit of his junior.

Mingyu shrugged, attempting to downplay the turmoil brewing within him. "It's alright," he muttered, though the strain in his voice betrayed his attempt at composure.

Seungcheol scoffed, unable to contain his sarcasm. "Yeah, everyone can tell you're alright," he quipped, hoping to coax out the truth behind Mingyu's facade.

The jest halted Mingyu in his tracks, his gaze snapping towards Seungcheol with a mixture of surprise and irritation. "Really?" Mingyu's brow furrowed, his frustration momentarily eclipsed by confusion before realization dawned upon him. "That's not funny, sunbae," he retorted, the tension between them palpable as they stood locked in a silent battle of emotions.

Seungcheol motioned for Mingyu to halt in front of a cooler, offering him a soft drink. Mingyu nodded gratefully, sinking onto the nearby bench as Seungcheol handed him a can of coke.

"Are you going to be alright working with Y/n?" Seungcheol asked directly, his concern palpable in the air. Mingyu shot him a sidelong glance, his mood evident in the gesture.

"What? I'm just worried, okay? You both are my juniors and used to be under my team." Seungcheol explained.

"I know," Mingyu mumbled, his head dropping as he stared at his shoes. He sighed heavily. "It's been messing with my head. I can't seem to stop thinking about her."

Mingyu looked up at Seungcheol, his expression a mix of frustration and self-doubt. "Even last night, I lashed out at my team for not capturing Park Jiheon. We worked tirelessly on the case, even though it wasn't our responsibility. It was... selfish."

"I feel like such an idiot, sunbae," Mingyu confessed.

Seungcheol paused, considering his words carefully before responding. "Professionally? Yes, you made mistakes. But we can't ignore matters of the heart, Mingyu. We're police officers, yes, but we're also human. We feel things deeply. Sometimes, our emotions cloud our judgment."

Mingyu chuckled weakly. "It's surreal to hear reassurance from you, Seungcheol sunbae. I remember when you used to chew me out back in my rookie days."

Seungcheol scoffed, folding his arms. "Rookies are always in for a rough ride," he said with a wry smile, pointing a finger skyward.

"If working with Y/n is going to worsen things for you, then maybe you should assign the case to another member. I hear Myungho is a great profiler," Seungcheol suggested.

Mingyu nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

As they stood in the quiet of the break room, the weight of Mingyu's dilemma hung heavy in the air, each man lost in his own thoughts.

*

"From today, the two of your teams will work together on the case given. Don't get distracted; Cubic might be more than we've known." The chief's words echoed in the room as the teams filed out.

Seungkwan and Chan exchanged subtle signals, while Seokmin and Myungho struggled to maintain their composure. Hansol, the only one oblivious to the tension, glanced at his leader, silently asking, "What's going on, sunbae?"

"Let's arrange a meeting tonight. My team will share everything we've found related to Cubic," you announced, stopping abruptly to address Mingyu.

Mingyu nodded and motioned for his team to proceed ahead. "Let's have a talk," he suggested, prompting you to instruct your team to head out first.

"We're talking," you said firmly once everyone had left. Mingyu rolled his eyes at your sudden display of petulance.

With a sigh, Mingyu began, "Let's not make everyone uncomfortable."

Your frown deepened. "I haven't done anything."

Mingyu hesitated, biting his lip before continuing, "I mean—"

"The way you speak makes everyone nervous," he clarified.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "That's just how I communicate. I thought you knew that."

"However," you added, your tone becoming more serious, "I'm sorry, but you can't tell me what to do unless it's about the case. You're not my boyfriend."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Kim Mingyu standing there, frustration evident on his face as he watched you go.

*

Mingyu, you, and Wonwoo entered the academy at the same time and were assigned to the same team upon graduation ten years ago. Working under intense pressure with Seungcheol as the team leader, the three of you quickly became inseparable. Mingyu and Wonwoo were always there to help you maintain your composure, making sure you didn't impulsively shoot anyone you caught, given your renowned marksmanship.

Mingyu, the athletic and brain one, carried the team with his impressive deductive skills, which had caught Seungcheol's eye during your rookie days. He had an uncanny ability to piece together the most obscure clues, turning chaos into coherent narratives that led to countless breakthroughs in your cases. His strategic thinking and physical prowess made him the backbone of the team.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, was a jack-of-all-trades and thrived on challenges. He was always willing to take the biggest risks, whether it was infiltrating dangerous territories or going undercover in high-stakes operations. His versatility and daring nature complemented Mingyu's methodical approach, creating a dynamic and effective duo.

For Seungcheol, having the three of you on the same team was a stroke of fortune. Your combined skills and unwavering loyalty to each other made the team formidable. Seungcheol knew he could rely on you to handle the toughest cases, confident that you would always have each other's backs, no matter the danger.

Wonwoo vividly remembered the day Mingyu panickedly ran down the hospital aisle after hearing you were injured during a mission to intercept a gang transaction. The two of them stood helplessly by your hospital bed, staring at your weak form with a broken leg and arm.

From that day forward, Mingyu and Wonwoo promised never to leave your side. You made the same promise to them.

"You two are dating?" Wonwoo asked, watching as you and Mingyu nodded excitedly like puppies.

"Finally." A sigh of relief escaped from Wonwoo's mouth.

Surprised by his reaction, you asked, "You knew?"

Wonwoo scoffed, "You were the only one who didn't realize how smitten Mingyu has been with you all these years."

You turned to Mingyu, who was blushing furiously at Wonwoo's words, his cheeks tinged a deep shade of red.

"Anyway, let's get some meat tonight. I'll pay," Mingyu declared, trying to shift the focus away from his embarrassment.

Just then, another figure stirred, startling the three of you. Seungcheol, who had been dozing at his desk, rubbed his eyes and stretched.

"Am I invited?" he asked, his voice slightly groggy.

The mood lightened as you all began discussing the evening's plans, the camaraderie and affection between you all evident. Despite the pressures and dangers of your work, moments like this reminded you why you were a team—why you were a family.

*

It's been a few weeks since you and Mingyu started working together on the case. The atmosphere was not as uncomfortable as it used to be, but everyone could still sense the underlying tension between the two leaders. Although you and Mingyu didn't feel that way, the rest of the team couldn't help but walk on thin ice around you.

The investigation had already uncovered Cubic's involvement in the narcotic industry and the powerful figures behind them. Mingyu and you had serious discussions from time to time, meticulously arranging every detail of the operation. The years of the close relationship you once had before it broke three years ago were now a distant memory, masked by the professionalism you both maintained.

Despite the professionalism, there were moments when the past seemed to seep through the cracks. A shared glance, an unspoken understanding—remnants of what once was. These moments, though fleeting, didn't go unnoticed by the team.

During one of the sessions, as you pored over maps and files, you couldn't help but recall the days when teamwork came effortlessly between you and Mingyu. Back then, your synergy was unmatched, a force that propelled your team to solve the most challenging cases.

Now, as you both focused on taking down Cubic, the stakes were higher than ever. The complexity of the case demanded absolute focus and collaboration. You admired Mingyu's analytical skills, his ability to connect dots that seemed unrelated, and his unwavering dedication to the mission. It reminded you of why you had once fallen for him.

Mingyu, on the other hand, found himself occasionally lost in thought, reminiscing about the times when your relationship wasn't just professional. He admired your courage and precision, your knack for getting to the heart of a matter with unerring accuracy. But he also knew that the past was a closed chapter, and what mattered now was the mission at hand.

As the team continued to unravel the tangled web of Cubic's operations, you and Mingyu found a new rhythm in your collaboration. The hints of rivalry that others perceived were, in truth, a testament to the high standards you both held each other to.

"Sunbae!" Seungkwan burst into the meeting room, his urgency drawing the attention of both you and Mingyu.

"Hansol and Jihoon were captured by Cubic," he announced, breathless.

"What?" you and Mingyu exclaimed simultaneously, immediately moving towards Seungkwan, who held out his phone, showing a picture of Hansol and Jihoon tied up, their faces bruised and bloodied.

"No..." you whispered, covering your mouth in shock.

Mingyu glanced at you, his expression a mix of frustration and concern, before turning to Seungkwan. "Gather everyone immediately," he instructed.

Seungkwan nodded and hurried out of the room.

"I'll inform the superintendents and the chief about this," Mingyu said, already reaching for his phone.

"We need to find them immediately," you told Mingyu, your voice trembling with urgency.

"We will save them. Please, calm down," he reassured you, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room under Seungcheol's direction, they quickly got to work, tracking through CCTV footage, emails, phone numbers, and transmissions to pinpoint Hansol and Jihoon's location.

"How about the ring?" you asked Jun, one of your team members.

"What ring?" Mingyu inquired.

You showed him your ring. "We programmed GPS into our team rings."

Jun shook his head. "It was left in a small alley in Itaewon. Seokmin and Myungho have already checked it out."

You sighed, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor.

"Itaewon?" Mingyu asked, frowning. He recalled Hansol mentioning he was heading to Sadang, Dongjak. "Where was he last before he was captured?" Mingyu asked Jun.

"Dongjak Bridge," Jun replied.

Mingyu rushed to his desk, rifling through papers. "If they were captured at Dongjak Bridge and the GPS was discarded in Itaewon, it means they made a U-turn," he deduced. "Their nearest area from Itaewon would be Gwangjang."

You bit your lip at Mingyu's deduction and immediately instructed Jun to track the CCTV footage around Myeongdong.

Seungcheol received a call from the district station and made eye contact with the two of you. "Alright, we'll be there," he said, hanging up.

"The car that captured them was seen around Gwangjang Market. Jun, find any abandoned buildings there. Mingyu, Y/N, you two drive to Myeongdong,"

*

Mingyu stood motionless in front of the ICU, his eyes fixed on the doors, while you were crying on the floor after the incident during the mission. A bomb had exploded in the hotel while your team was attempting to catch a serial killer.

You had been trapped in the perpetrator's trap, tied up in a room with a time bomb ticking down. Wonwoo had been trying to save you, but he knew he had to get the bomb away from other people.

"No, don't," you pleaded as Wonwoo prepared to pull the strap of the time bomb.

"You need to get everyone out of this building. I'll take the bomb to a higher floor," Wonwoo instructed, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

You shook your head, desperation in your eyes. "Let's get down together." You grabbed his arm, but he stood firm.

"Save the people and do what I said. We have five minutes," he urged.

You looked at him, tears streaming down your face, before gradually stepping away. You watched as Wonwoo sprinted towards the emergency stairs, determination etched on his face. You then turned and began evacuating everyone, your heart heavy with fear and hope.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu mumbled as you both waited anxiously for news about Wonwoo's condition. Reports had indicated that he was badly injured and would require several surgeries.

You stood up, frustration and sorrow evident on your face. "You left us!"

Mingyu took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping with regret. "I'm very sorry."

In a surge of emotion, you grabbed his collar and shouted, "You saw me in trouble, but you ran off to catch that bastard! You lost sight of your priorities!"

Mingyu nodded, his face reflecting the realization that he had made a grave mistake by abandoning his injured teammates.

"Hey... Stop it," Seungcheol said, his voice heavy with exhaustion and stress. He stepped in and gently pulled you away from Mingyu.

Just then, the doctor emerged from the ICU, calling out Wonwoo's name. The news he delivered was something no one had been prepared for.

You fell to your knees, overwhelmed by the weight of the doctor’s words. Mingyu leaned against the nearest wall, his face hidden in his hands, unable to escape the guilt that consumed him.

Seungcheol, the team leader who had just lost a member, stood nearby, grappling with his own overwhelming sense of failure. He could not shake the feeling that he should have done more, that he had let his team down in their darkest hour. The weight of the day’s events hung heavily over everyone, casting a long and painful shadow on the team.

*

You and Mingyu immediately ran to the abandoned building where Hansol and Jihoon were being held captive. The rest of the team followed closely, their weapons at the ready. As you neared the building, Mingyu's phone rang. It was a call from Seungcheol. Mingyu signaled for everyone to stop moving when he heard Seungcheol's urgent voice, "Stop everyone. He wants to meet Y/N."

Mingyu's eyes locked onto yours as Seungcheol continued, "Yoo Yongchul wants to meet Y/N only."

Mingyu relayed the message, and you muttered a curse under your breath, "He hated it when I took down his men last week." The pieces clicked into place—this was why Hansol and Jihoon had been captured.

"Tell him that Y/N will be with me," Mingyu instructed Seungcheol before ending the call. He quickly briefed Myungho and Jisoo to lead the team while you and he headed upstairs.

"Be careful," Myungho whispered as he took his position, his eyes filled with concern.

With a nod, you and Mingyu moved cautiously up the stairs, the old wooden steps creaking under your weight. The air was thick with tension, every shadow a potential threat. Your mind raced, strategizing how to handle Yoo Yongchul and secure the safe release of your teammates.

Reaching the designated floor, you saw a dimly lit room at the end of the hallway. Mingyu placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We’ve got this. Just stay focused."

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. As you entered the room, the dim light revealed Yoo Yongchul standing in the center, a sinister smile on his face. Hansol and Jihoon were tied up in the corner, their faces bruised and eyes filled with a mixture of relief and fear upon seeing you.

"Here we are. Did you bring my men?" Yoo Yongchul, the leader of Cubic, greeted you with a smile that stood in stark contrast to his grim-faced men, who held weapons aimed at Hansol and Jihoon.

"You let them go, and we'll talk," you replied, your calm tone surprising even Mingyu.

Mingyu's eyes widened as you pulled out your gun, unloaded it, and let the bullets clatter to the floor. You then tossed the gun aside, followed by your knife and handcuffs.

"What are you doing?" Mingyu whispered, alarmed.

Yoo Yongchul motioned for his men to release Hansol and Jihoon. Mingyu immediately moved to their side as they were pushed towards you.

"So, what do you want?" you asked.

"Let's pretend we never sold narcotics," Yoo Yongchul said smoothly. "Detective Kim knows what we've done, right? We just own a few nightclubs and do some debt collecting."

You smiled, a dangerous edge to your expression. "Nightclubs aren't enough, so you got your hands dirty with 'candy' from Russia? How does the money from selling narcotics feel?" Your taunt hit its mark, and Yoo Yongchul's smile vanished. He grabbed a gun from one of his men and aimed it at you.

Mingyu, Hansol, and Jihoon, who got their gun from Mingyu, quickly raised their guns, ready to protect you.

"Thank you for this invitation, Yoo Yongchul," you said, your voice steady.

Sensing your intent to capture him, Yoo Yongchul fired at you and immediately ran. Hansol and Jihoon sprinted after him, but Mingyu stopped when he noticed you were bleeding.

"You didn't wear a vest?" Mingyu exclaimed, shock evident in his voice. He quickly directed everyone to move through his radio, but you motioned for him to join the others in pursuing Yoo Yongchul.

"No, I'm not leaving you here bleeding," he insisted, gently lifting you into his arms and heading downstairs.

"I'm heavy," you whispered weakly, your hand pressed against the wound on your stomach to stem the bleeding.

"Shut up, it's not like I’ve never lifted you before," Mingyu retorted, his tone a mix of frustration and concern.

You winced in pain, the reality of being shot for the first time hitting you hard. Your recklessness in not wearing a bulletproof vest during the mission now seemed like a grave mistake.

"Please, stay awake," Mingyu urged as he descended the stairs, his voice trembling slightly. He could feel your strength waning with each passing moment.

As he carried you, Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your shared history and the countless times you had saved each other. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you now. "Just a bit further," he whispered, more to himself than to you, as he pushed through the pain and fear gripping his heart.

With the help of the district station, Yoo Yongchul and his men were successfully captured. Seungcheol saw Mingyu holding you and immediately ran to assist. Quickly getting you to the paramedics, Mingyu watched anxiously as they tended to your wound.

"She didn't wear a vest?" Jihoon, who was also in the same ambulance on the way to the hospital, was shocked to find out his leader was injured.

Hansol, sitting beside Jihoon, looked on in concern as you slowly closed your eyes. "Ma'am, please stay awake. We're on our way to the hospital," the paramedic urged.

Mingyu's hand immediately found yours and squeezed it tightly. "Hey... stay awake... please," he begged, his voice filled with desperation.

"It's hurting," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Mingyu nodded, his face a mask of concern and guilt.

"Mingyu, thank you," you whispered, your voice growing weaker. "Thank you..."

Mingyu shook his head, hating the way you kept thanking him in this dire situation. "Stop it!" he said, his voice breaking.

"I'm so tired," you mumbled, your eyes fluttering. "I miss Wonwoo."

"Sunbae!" Jihoon exclaimed, his voice filled with disapproval and concern, speaking up on behalf of a speechless Mingyu.

Mingyu's heart clenched at your words, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "We can't lose you too."

The ambulance sped through the city streets, sirens blaring. The paramedics worked tirelessly to stabilize you, their faces grim with determination. As the hospital came into view, Mingyu's grip on your hand tightened, a silent promise that he would never let you down again.

The ambulance doors flew open, and the medical team rushed you inside. Mingyu followed closely, his eyes never leaving you. "She's going to be okay," he told himself, the words a mantra he desperately needed to believe. "She has to be."

*

Hansol, Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Myungho sat waiting anxiously in front of the surgery room. Their eyes kept darting to Mingyu, who stood steadfastly by the door, not moving an inch since you were taken in an hour ago.

"I don't know what exactly happened, but I watched him in the ambulance," Hansol said, looking over at Jihoon. "He looked so worried. Like he was afraid something terrible would happen."

"I know... everyone can see he still loves her," Seungkwan sighed.

Hansol frowned. "What do you mean? They were together?"

Jihoon glanced at him. "You didn't know?"

"He's new," Seungkwan informed Jihoon.

"They were together until three years ago, before they were promoted to team leaders. It was Jihoon hyung, Myungho hyung, Mingyu sunbae, y/n sunbae, and I was the maknae. Seungcheol sunbae was the team leader," Seungkwan explained.

"We lost a member during a mission. It was their best friend," Jihoon added somberly. "I don't know all the details, but the rumors about their breakup started after that. However, I always knew that Mingyu sunbae never truly left Y/n sunbae's side."

The group fell silent, the weight of the past and present hanging heavily in the air. The surgical room doors remained closed, and every passing minute felt like an eternity. Mingyu's unwavering presence by the door was a testament to his feelings, a silent promise that he wouldn't lose you, no matter what it took.

"What is wrong with you, actually?" Those were the first words out of your mouth after days of not speaking to him. It was almost midnight when he drove you home after Wonwoo's funeral. Unable to bear the thought of leaving you alone, he stayed.

"What is wrong with you?" you asked again, this time in a whisper.

He knew exactly what you were referring to, but the guilt weighed heavily on him. He couldn't stop hating himself every time he remembered that he was the cause of losing Wonwoo and almost losing you as well.

"You've always been the one to prioritize other. How could you go when you saw me tied up in that room?" you continued, your voice cracking with emotion.

Mingyu held his head down, unable to meet your eyes. Deep down, he knew the reason behind his actions, and it made him hate himself even more. He remembered the frantic moments of trying to find, where the culprit had taken you, with Wonwoo while the rest of the team focused on evacuating the area.

"Did something happen to you?" Your question pierced through his thoughts, bringing tears to his eyes. You were too good for him, he thought. How could an angel like you exist for someone as flawed as him? He was betraying you, for God's sake!

"There are only two spots, Detective Kim," he remembered Chief Hong's insinuation. It was promotion time. Mingyu, Wonwoo, and you had dedicated your lives fully to the work. However, there were only two promotion spots available, and they were likely for him and Wonwoo.

Competently, Wonwoo and he were better detectives. But everyone knew you were fit for a leadership spot. Honestly, none of you didn't deserve the place.

"Detective Jeon definitely has a spot. Honestly, I have high hopes for you, Detective Kim. However, the superintendents have been discussing Detective Ji's performance in leading several cases," Chief Hong had said.

Mingyu’s mind replayed the conversation. The promotion meant everything to him. It wasn’t just about recognition; it was about proving his worth, his dedication. But that ambition had clouded his judgment, leading to choices that he now regretted deeply.

You sighed at his silence, frustration boiling over. "You left me in danger and now you're keeping things from me," you said, your voice trembling with hurt. "I guess seven years wasn't enough for you? For us?"

Mingyu shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"Then tell me! We lost Wonwoo, for god's sake! How could you stay silent like this, Kim Mingyu?"

Mingyu was startled; it was the first time he'd heard you raise your voice at him. He looked at you, eyes widened in shock. Why was it always about Wonwoo? When was it going to be about him? When would he be prioritized?

"You shouldn't bring up Wonwoo. I'm having a hard time too," Mingyu said, his voice cracking. He stood from the couch, grabbing his black suit from the funeral.

"It's always about him, right?" Mingyu mumbled, his words heavy with bitterness and pain, before he walked out, leaving you alone in the silence of the night.

The echo of his departure hung in the air, leaving you with a hollow ache that felt impossible to fill. The chasm between you and Mingyu seemed wider than ever, and the loss of Wonwoo weighed down on both of you like an unspoken curse.

*

Mingyu stood somberly at the funeral with his team, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. In this industry, people came and went, and the harsh reality of that truth weighed heavily on his heart. He tapped one of your member, Jisoo's shoulder, silently urging him to stay strong amidst the recent turmoil.

After the funeral concluded, Mingyu found himself heading to your apartment. The familiar path brought a wave of nostalgia. He remembered all the times he had crashed at your place, finding solace and comfort within its walls. Your apartment had always felt more like home to him than his own, mainly because it had you in it.

As he stood outside your door, memories of laughter, shared meals, and late-night conversations flooded his mind. The warmth of your presence, the way you made everything better just by being there—it all came rushing back. With a deep breath, Mingyu stepped inside, hoping to find some semblance of the connection you once shared, even amidst the pain and unresolved issues that now lingered between you.

"Wake up," Mingyu said softly, shaking your shoulder. "I brought you lunch. It's past time for your medicine."

You groaned and stretched like a cat, wincing as the still-healing wound reminded you of its presence. "How's Jisoo?" you asked, feeling guilty for not being able to attend his father's funeral, Regional Chief Hong.

Mingyu prepared the food on your nightstand and handed it to you. "Even though we knew he hated his father, he's still his father. Jisoo's holding up as best as he can."

You sighed, taking the plate from him. "I wish I could've been there for him."

Mingyu sat beside you, watching you carefully. "He understands. We all do. Focus on getting better. That's what matters right now."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you, Mingyu. For everything."

He smiled, gently squeezing your hand. "Always."

You shook your head. "I really mean it. Thank you for always being there," you said sincerely.

Mingyu looked at you, stunned by your words. "You knew?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded slowly. "Everyone knows."

Mingyu's face flushed slightly. "I know you weren't that stupid for stepping over regulations, helping with my cases," you mentioned as you took your first spoonful of food.

You frowned slightly. "It doesn't have green onion. You remembered?" you asked, surprised.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Of course I remembered."

You chuckled and playfully slapped his arm. "Stop acting like that to women!"

Mingyu raised his hand to pat your head, smiling softly. "Only for you."

You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from saying something. However, Mingyu noticed it and said, "Just say it."

You sighed and set the food on the nightstand before turning to face him. "You know what happened to Wonwoo is not your fault, right?"

Mingyu shifted uncomfortably on your bed, his eyes wandering. There was a pregnant pause before he finally spoke. "I—I don't know. I—I just can't stop thinking and blaming myself."

You reached out and took his hand, feeling the tension in his grip. "Mingyu, none of us could have predicted what happened. Wonwoo made his choice to save everyone. He was a hero, and you did everything you could."

Mingyu's eyes met yours, filled with anguish. "But I should have been there. I should have done more."

"You were there, and you did everything you could," you insisted, squeezing his hand. "We all did. This job, it comes with risks, and we all knew that. Blaming yourself won't bring him back."

Mingyu sighed deeply, the weight of his guilt still pressing down on him. "I just wish things had been different."

"We all do," you whispered. "But we have to keep moving forward. For Wonwoo, for each other, and for the team."

Mingyu nodded slowly, his eyes still clouded with grief. "I know. It's just hard."

"It is," you agreed. "But we're in this together. We'll get through it, one step at a time."

He looked at you, his expression softening. "Thank you. For everything."

"Always," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's finish this food before it gets cold."

Mingyu managed a small smile, the first hint of light breaking through the darkness. "Okay. No green onions, just for you."

You chuckled, the sound a small but significant step toward healing. "Just for me."

*

It was nearly 3 a.m. when you and Mingyu decided to step out of the office together after a long night shift. You had just finished your leave and had fully recovered, while Mingyu had been dealing with everything related to Cubic over the past three months. Despite the challenges, things were looking up—especially now that he had you to come home to.

Everyone was thrilled when Mingyu finally revealed that you two were back together. Seungcheol, ever the perceptive leader, was the first to know. His response was typically Seungcheol: "I sensed that would happen." Meanwhile, the rest of the team, who had been watching Mingyu wander around like a lost soul since your separation, were ecstatic. They couldn't stop showering him with playful, embarrassing comments.

"My wish for today is that I won't see you running, on your first day back at work, catching some bastard," Mingyu said, a hint of a smile on his face as he placed an order for the two of you.

You both decided to stop at an old restaurant nearby your place. It was open 24 hours and served home-cooked meals—a usual go-to spot for you, Mingyu, and Wonwoo after night shifts. The owner, recognizing you both, was surprised to see you weren't alone this time.

"I'm so sorry for your friend," she said gently. "Here's a house service."

She handed you a plate of mandu, Wonwoo's favorite appetizer. Mingyu and you smiled gratefully at her before savoring the familiar taste.

"Shit, I didn't expect this atmosphere," Mingyu mumbled, hiding his face in his hands, still chewing on the mandu.

You reached out and touched his arm gently. "I know. It's... different without him."

Mingyu nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "This place... it was our spot."

You sighed, memories flooding back. "Yeah, it was. But I'm glad we came. It feels like he's still here with us, in a way."

Mingyu took a deep breath, lowering his hands to look at you. "I'm really glad you're back. I don't think I could have done this without you."

You smiled softly. "I'm glad to be back too. And we're going to get through this, together."

As the two of you sat there, sharing a meal and memories, the weight of the past few months began to lift. It wasn't easy, but you both knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything the future held.

Once you two finished, Mingyu, who was facing the window, saw someone running while another followed. He cursed under his breath and lowered his head. You noticed his reaction and tried to look back.

"Promise me you won't get involved," he said, reminding you that your shift was over.

But then you saw Jihoon and Jisoo running in pursuit. You immediately stood up. "I have to go," you said, darting outside to follow your team members.

Mingyu sighed, pulling out his card to pay for the meal. The owner, noticing your sudden absence, approached with a curious look.

"Where's she? Did she leave already?" the owner asked.

Mingyu smiled wearily. "She's got a criminal to chase," he replied playfully before stepping out, scanning the area to find your whereabouts.

As you ran to catch up with Jihoon and Jisoo, the familiar adrenaline surged through your veins. Mingyu followed close behind, unable to ignore the pull of duty despite his earlier promise.

The chase was intense, but with Jihoon and Jisoo leading the way, you quickly caught up to the suspect. Jihoon tackled him to the ground while Jisoo expertly cuffed him. You arrived just in time to help them secure the scene.

"Nice work, team," you said, breathing heavily. Jihoon and Jisoo both gave you grateful nods, their expressions a mix of surprise and relief.

Just then, Mingyu arrived, slightly out of breath. "Nice job, everyone," he said, his tone a bit sharper than usual. Jihoon and Jisoo looked at him, then at you, confused.

"Wait, did Mingyu sunbae just follow you here?" Jihoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

You glanced at Mingyu, who looked slightly offended. "Yeah, we came together," you admitted.

Jisoo's eyes widened. "Together? Like, together-together?"

You nodded, a small smile forming. "Yeah, we're back together."

Jihoon and Jisoo exchanged surprised looks. "And you didn't think to tell us?" Jihoon teased, though there was genuine curiosity in his tone.

Mingyu crossed his arms, clearly still a bit annoyed. "Yeah, why didn't you tell them?" he asked you pointedly.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "I was going to, but there was never a good time. And then, well, this happened."

Jisoo grinned. "Well, it's about time! We've been wondering when you two would finally get back together."

Jihoon chuckled. "Yeah, the whole team has been rooting for you guys."

Mingyu's annoyance softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess we could've been more open about it," he admitted.

"Definitely," you agreed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "From now on, no more secrets."

As the night continued, the team settled back into their routine, the camaraderie and shared purpose stronger than ever. You and Mingyu were back together, and despite the challenges ahead, you knew you could face them as long as you had each other.

[blissfullyapillow]

┆I’ve loved you from the start

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Neuvillette x fem reader

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ wc: 10,483~

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Prompt: pinning, pinning, and more pinning. Wait, it’s mutual?! Oh, your heart can’t take this… “Oh how I’d wish you’d wake up one day, run to me confess your love at least just let me say, That when I talk to you, Oh cupid walks right through, And shoots an arrow to my heart…. Oh the burning pain... Don’t you dare look at me that way..”

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ warnings: fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning, lots of Fontaine characters make an appearance, reader is referred to as Name instead of Y/N but same thought applies (reader insert)

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Pillow Talks: Hi guys! I’ve spent the last few days writing this, and I have to say I’m in love with how it turned out! I had to do my man justice (get it?) with a fic I can be proud of. Anyway, I really hope someone can find joy and comfort from this fic. As a side note, yes this fic was inspired by the song From the Start, by Laufey. The specific lines stated in the prompt is what really inspired me to write this. Regarding Neuvillette, I tried to be as lore accurate as possible here haha. I wish you all a wonderful holiday season. Stay safe out there. With much love, Pillow ‹𝟹

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Masterlist

Credits: sillyakito on pinterest

I tap an impatient finger against my knee as I take a slow survey of my surroundings. Everyone is patiently seated, although animated whispers reach your ears as citizens anxiously wait for the trial to begin.

I don’t know what to expect…

As the people beside me engage in idle chatter, I take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself. My friend convinced me to attend one of Fontaine’s public trails, insisting it was a rite of passage as a new citizen of Fontaine.

Unfortunately for the both of us, they came down with a cold the day before the trial.  I would’ve loved if they could accompany me, but I’m here nonetheless.

Another quick glance around the courtroom sets my nerves on end. I’m fine with huge crowds but at times they can feel suffocating. My finger tapping increases in speed as my thoughts begin to spiral.

Before my thoughts can completely spiral out of control, a loud sound catches the attention of everyone in the room.

There, sitting before everyone in a comically large chair, is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Something that is no small feat in the world of Teyvat.

He has a commanding presence; there’s something about him that makes it difficult to pry my eyes away. He situates himself before the people of Fontaine, and before long the trial is well underway.

I wind up being swept up in the moment; I’m heavily invested in this case. I close my eyes for a moment, playing detective to deduce whom the culprit is.

The majority of the attending party is not as quiet as I’d prefer them to be; It’s hard to think when everyone is so rowdy.

“Oh my, did you hear that? She’s definitely guilty!” “Disgusting.” “Who? Her? I doubt it was her! Do you not see the remorse on her face? Oh, what poor soul…”

…

aha, that’s it!

I open my eyes with a triumphant expression. I’ve determined who the culprit is. At least, I think so. Now to wait and see.

“Order!” The man before the citizens of Fontaine slams what appears to be a cane to the ground. The room is immediately engulfed in silence.

I gaze at him in awe.

The man, who I now know is the Iudex of Fontaine, talks through his deductions before a machine generates the final verdict.

I silently cheer since I successfully determined the culprit.

Overall, I’d say this was a valuable experience. There are definitely some prominent flaws in how trials are viewed and the implemented system. Of course that was only one trial and I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, but something about the fate of another being viewed as entertainment just doesn’t sit right with me.

With my head in the clouds, I don’t pay attention to where I’m going.

Well, not until I accidentally bump into something.

A small “omph!” comes out of whatever I bumped into. That’s weird. Why would an inanimate object make a—

The sudden realization that I bumped into someone dawns on me. I’m quick to bow my head in embarrassment.

“Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention..” I hope they aren’t mad!

I blink my eyes open when I hear nothing, and I find myself face to face with a Melusine.

“It’s no problem. We can all be clumsy at times.” The Melusine smiles at me; it’s the most heartwarming smile to ever grace my eyes.

I can feel the way my heart melts as the Melusine continues to smile at me, although she tilts her head in confusion.

Oh, I haven’t responded to her yet!

“You’re right. Still, I’m so sorry for bumping into you.” A sheepish smile lifts my lips. The Melusine sighs as they shake their head in dismay.

“Oh dear. You remind me an awful lot of Monsieur Neuvillette. He tends to over apologize for things when it comes to us.” This time, I’m the one tilting my head in confusion.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette? … Did I say that right?” The Melusine nods her confirmation, although she seems a bit surprised by my confusion. Why, though? “Are you new to fontaine?” She asks. When I slowly nod my head in confirmation, her eyes sparkle with an emotion I can’t pinpoint.

“Ah, I see. Well, my name is Sedene. It is very nice to meet you.” Sedene holds out her hand for a friendly shake, and it takes everything in me not to squeal over how adorable she is.

I haven’t lived in Fontaine for long, but all of the Melusine have my heart. They are all so sweet with their own personalities, it’s hard not to have a soft spot for them! They especially helped me out with navigating the city when I first arrived, their eyes devoid of judgment or apprehension when communicating with me.

Sedene tilts her head at me once more, and it takes me a moment to realize I haven’t responded yet… again.

My face warms in embarrassment.

Why do I keep getting lost in thought today?

I smile at her as I extend my hand, and we shake. “So, what’s your name?” She asks me. “Name.” Is my response.

She considers my answer, trying the name out on her own. “Name… it sounds pretty.” Sedene’s thoughtful comment causes my smile to morph into a grin. “Not as pretty as Sedene! Still, thank you.” I bend down to my knees to be at eye level with her.

I notice her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t seem to take offense to my action. If anything, she seems overjoyed. “Y/N, have you met Monsieur Neuvillette yet?” I shake my head no in response to her question.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette…,” Sedene nods again to confirm I have said the name correctly as I speak, “..Who is he?”

She blinks her eyes owlishly, before she bursts into a fit of giggles.

I’m a bit taken aback, but I find myself joining in on the laughter. Once Sedene stops laughing she gestures for me to follow her. I oblige her request as she begins to skip away.

Before I know it Sedene has led me to a new area, and now I stand before a large door. Sedene politely knocks before a voice from inside calls out, “Come in.”

Huh, why does that voice sound so familiar?

My question is quickly answered once Sedene pushes the door open and I follow her inside.

Sitting before the both of us, at his desk, is none other than the beautiful Iudex of Fontaine.

Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette!

everything clicks for me, and I find myself feeling a bit overwhelmed.

I’m standing before such a prominent figure in Fontaine! With no appointment or anything! I’m sure you need to schedule an appointment to see someone like him, right?

Is there some sort of etiquette I should follow here?

I break out into a nervous sweat as Sedene introduces me.

“I hope I am not imposing on your work Monsieur, but I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Y/N, and she is a new citizen of Fontaine.” I shyly wave and offer a smile as Monsieur Neuvillette fixes his gaze on me.

Archons, my heart is pounding!

…

He remains silent.

I catch sight of his curious eyes roaming my figure, before they leave me to return to Sedene.

A soft, warm expression takes over his features as he communicates with her.

It makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

“You are fine, Sedene. I was just about to take a break from all of this paperwork anyway.” He speaks in a very refined manner, but his tone is more relaxed than it was in court. Obviously that’s to be expected, but still.

“Well hello Name, you can refer to me as Monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you for being good company to Sedene.” The Iudex of Fontaine now stands. He makes his way over to us.

I scramble my brain for a dignified response since the only fact in my mind is that I’ll be able to see his pretty features up close.

Oh,

He’s coming closer.

He’s standing in front of me now.

Damn, he’s even more handsome up close.

“Hmm?” He hums, prompting me for something. But what could it—?

Oh, yeah. I need to respond.

I open my mouth to thank him for his generosity, maybe even congratulate him on how smooth the trial seemed to go today.

Unfortunately, he chooses that moment to glance at Sedene, and he chuckles at whatever he sees.

Oh, my heart.

…

“Yeah.” Is my blunt, ineloquent response.

Oh ARCHONS why is that the only word that came out of my mouth?

He seems a bit taken aback by my lack of a response, but then he smiles.

At me.

He chuckles once more, and he lifts his hand. He moves his hand in my direction, and my entire body stiffens. His fingers grace my cheek.

My heart stops.

“You had something there. Do not worry, I have removed it.” Monsieur Neuvillette tilts his head in a polite gesture, a warm smile on his face as he retracts his hand.

I forget to feel embarrassed since I just had THE beautiful Iudex of Fontaine touch my cheek.

“Thank you..” I murmur, sounding a bit more eloquent this time.

“You are quite welcome. How long has it been since you’ve arrived in Fontaine? Do you hail from Liyue?” Neuvillette’s eyes roam my form once more as the realization dawns on me.

He’s studying my clothes, since I’m not wearing clothing native to Fontaine.

“Ah, yes. I just moved here recently. From Liyue.” When the word ‘Liyue’ leaves my lips, Neuvillette’s expression shifts for the briefest of moments.

It’s subtle, but I notice the quick frown that turns his gorgeous lips upside down, before they resume their neutral position.

“I see. Well, there are many things to enjoy in Fontaine. I hope you find Fontaine to be a suitable new home for you.” He sounds sincere, and it makes me happy.

“Thank you Monsieur.” I twiddle my fingers as my gaze leaves his face, to look around the room.

I assume this is his office.

There are shelves in the room, huge as they are, and there are two piles of paperwork on his work desk.

Sedene strikes up a conversation with Neuvillette, but I tune it out.

That is, until my name is brought up again.

“So, what do you say, Name? Does that sound like something that’s of interest to you?” I whip my head around to look at him, and his gaze is as fierce as it is intense.

Uh, what was the question?

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can I interrupt. “Y-Yes! Sure, that sounds wonderful…” I chuckle nervously, hoping he doesn’t realize I didn’t catch his question.

He smirks at my response.

“So you don’t know what I have asked of you, yet you agree nonetheless? You are proving to be an intriguing individual Name. I shall see you here tomorrow then. Promptly in the morning, at 9, and not a moment later.” He turns then, walking back to his desk.

“Yes.” Is the only response I’m capable of mustering.

Oh my.. wait, did I say my question out loud earlier?

I watch as he sits down at his desk once more, that same smirk on his lips as he returns to work.

“Thank you for introducing us, Sedene. I shall see you tomorrow.” Sedene happily waves goodbye to Monsieur Neuvillette, and I hastily follow suit.

We leave Monsieur Neuvillette to his work, and Sedene happily bids me farewell outside of his door. “It seems you’ve intrigued Monsieur Neuvillette. That is not an easy feat (Name). I shall see you here tomorrow. At 9 o'clock okay? Don’t be late.” Sedene moves in to give me a hug, and I quickly bend down to return it.

As I leave the Court of Fontaine, I’m in a daze.

What did I just get myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

It’s 8:50. I am most definitely not running late to my surprise meeting with the chief justice of Fontaine.

On the contrary, I’ve arrived early!

Too bad my sense of direction isn’t serving me well..

“Um, excuse me? Do you know where I can find Monsieur Neuvillette’s office?” I kindly ask a Melusine I stumble upon.

They generously agree, and soon I’m led to the same door I stood before the previous day.

I check the time. It’s 8:57 now. How fortunate.

“Thank you so much!” I gratefully give my thanks to the Melusine before me. I bend down to give her a hug, and she accepts. “No worries. Thank you, (Name). It’s been a long time since Monsieur Neuvillette allowed himself to be involved with another person.” Oh?

Before I can ask the Melusine to elaborate, the door to Neuvillette’s office suddenly opens.

I look up, and he stands tall and proud above us. He awkwardly coughs into his fist as he glances at us. “Name. I’m glad you could make it.”

I take that as my Que to rise and properly stand in front of him. I discreetly wave goodbye to the Melusine as she skips away. When I turn back to face Neuvillette, he has a glint in his eyes.

I can only hope to decipher what it means.

He moves to stand beside me outside of his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Now, are you ready to begin?” I feel a sudden burst of energy surge through me, jumping up in excitement. “Yes! I’ll admit, I have no idea what we’re doing and I usually don’t wake up this early, but I’m ready!”

My words clearly take him by surprise, as his whole body stiffens and his gorgeous eyes widen.

“My… you sure are full of surprises.” He sounds smug about it for whatever reason, but I take it as a compliment.

“Sedene had asked me to show you around Fontaine, since you are new to this nation. Normally, this is not an activity someone of my.. position.. would partake in with a citizen. So count yourself lucky, as it was Sedene who requested it.” I eagerly nod my head in approval, and a shy “thank you,” leaves my lips.

He only nods, noticeably turning his head to look elsewhere.

He was struggling to contain his smile.

“Let us be on our way then. There is much to show you, while the day is still young.” So with that, Monsieur Neuvillette guides me out of the Palais Mermonia, which he later explains is the name of the building his office is located in, to show me the sights of Fontaine.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette proves to be a wonderful tour guide, though I didn’t expect any less from him. He points out famous shops that the citizens rave about, making a point to mention Chioriya Boutique, run by a famous fashion designer from Inazuma. My eyes sparkle as I catch glimpses of the clothes, but Neuvillette is quick to continue our tour.

I can’t help but pout as we continue on. My eyes struggle to leave a particular piece that has caught my eye. Little did I know, Neuvillette was all too aware.

As we continue our impromptu tour, we run into many people who are familiar with Neuvillette. Each and every one of them express genuine surprise at seeing him out and about, especially with someone they’ve never seen before. 

A famous magician, Lyney, performs a magic trick for us as his assistant Lynette silently stands beside him. I politely applaud, enjoying the cool trick he managed to pull off. 

Halfway through the tour Neuvillette stops me. He pointedly looks towards a building a few feet ahead of us. My confusion morphs into one of delight as a girl runs out from behind it, quickly swarming Neuvillette as she asks for an interview for what apparently is the third time that week.

Later on, nearing the end of the tour, we run into a tall, beautiful lady. Neuvillette introduces her as the Champion Duelist, Clorinde. To say I'm starstruck is an understatement. She seems a bit stoic, but a subtle smile remained on her lips as she questioned what Neuvillette was doing with a citizen of Fontaine. 

I giggle as he slowly becomes more flustered with Clorinde’s obvious teasing, briskly walking off as he bids her a quick farewell soon after. She smirks, turning her gaze to me. I smile at her, and she nods politely before she continues on her way.

Our tour ends with a chance meeting, with none other than the Archon herself. 

Well, if the whispers you heard are true, then former Archon… ish? I don’t know the whole story, and it honestly sounds complicated. I don’t particularly care to know the details, as I give Furina a friendly wave of the hand. She stops to greet the two of us. She almost looks like she wants to ask Neuvillette what everyone has already, but she refrains from doing so, quickly entering her house with what appeared to be boxes of macaroni in her arms.

…

I think it’s better not to ask.

With that, my tour of Fontaine with Neuvillette concludes. The two of us return to our starting position, back to the Palais Mermonia. Neuvillette’s expression is hard to read as the two of you stand in front of his office door. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. Or, well, I’m not sure if it was entirely for me but either way I appreciate it! I got to meet a lot of cool people, although some of them made me nervous with how cool they seem…” You chuckle as you express your thanks. 

“No need to thank me. I actually enjoyed myself quite a bit.” You both send a smile in the other’s direction, before an awkward silence ensues. 

Luckily, you believe you’re good at handling these. “Um.. so, until we see each other again?” You extend your hand for a shake. He looks taken aback for a moment before he reaches out towards you, shaking your hand. 

“Until we meet again, Name. Truly, you are a lovely individual.” He politely nods, smiling at you before he turns, entering his office. 

His back is turned as the door shuts behind him.

Thank goodness.

You quickly place your hand over your heart, as the organ beneath your chest pounds violently against your ribcage.

Archons, how did you manage to walk beside him all day long? He’s genuinely an intriguing individual, and you enjoyed the various expressions he made. From a look of exasperation with the young reporter Charlotte, to looks of endearment as some Melusine waved to him when they spotted him, to an adorable look of embarrassment as Clorinde took it upon herself to extensively question his motives.

A soft look paints your features. Your cheeks, along with your heart, feels so warm.

You take your time leaving the Palais Mermonia.

Your only wish is that you’re able to meet Monsieur Neuvillette once more, even if your wish is quite far-fetched and impractical.

Who knew a rainy day would be the thing to grant your wish?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I hold my umbrella above my head. This rainy weather is quite fitting for today; after that trial I just witnessed, anyone would be sad. 

I roll my shoulders as I attempt to work out the kink in my neck. I stayed behind as the other citizens slowly filed out of the courtroom. The verdict weighs heavy on my chest. It was a tough case to watch, and it pained me to see the grief stricken look that crossed Neuvillette’s features as he announced the defendant guilty. 

I sat alone in the vast courtroom to give myself time to absorb everything that occurred. It almost felt like too much, but then again, I’ve always been one to put myself in others shoes even when it doesn’t directly affect me.

I shiver; it’s getting quite cold with this heavy downpour.

My gaze shifts to the sky. Although the circumstances were not ideal, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me as the rain splatters to the ground. A raindrop drips down from my colorful umbrella, splashing to the ground before my feet.

I’ve always loved the rain. Sometimes it can be a bit of a nuisance, but even so, there was something so beautiful about it. I adore all kinds of weather, but rainy weather has always held a special place in my heart. It calms me enough to sleep during late nights; it makes what would’ve been an ordinary night cozier and a bit special.

Nothing soothes me more than the gentle, or rough, splatter of raindrops against my window.

My  thoughts drift back to the present as my eyes come into focus. Whoops, I was daydreaming again.

I glance around, hoping no one spotted me zoned out, when my eyes connect with a familiar pair of dark blue-purple slit eyes. Said eyes widen, before they visibility soften. He takes long strides towards me, and my heart flips in my chest. 

‘Act cool, Name. Act cool,’ My thoughts warn me.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Neuvillette.” I cringe at my choice of words, internally berating myself for sounding cheesy.

“It is lovely to see you again as well, Miss Y/N.” Neuvillette smiles courteously in my direction, before his gaze shifts towards the sky. “Ah, my apologies. This heavy rain must be quite an inconvenience for you.” I glance at him, with what I’m sure is confusion on my features. Why is he apologizing for the rain? 

It’s not like he’s the one causing it. 

“No need to apologize for something that isn’t your fault Monsieur.” I’m not sure if I’m imagining the way his body winces. 

“No, no… ahem–” He awkwardly coughs into his fist, cheeks warm as he looks elsewhere.

Huh. How odd.

I shake my head to get myself back on topic. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you have an umbrella?” My question draws his gaze in my direction. I suck in a sharp intake of breath at the intensity within his gaze.

“No, but do not worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He dismisses my concerns, stepping forward to walk in the rain. “It was nice seeing you again–” He pauses, glancing at his side. There I stand beside him, stubbornly holding the umbrella over his head.

He sighs.

“Y/n, I was honest when I said–” “I don’t care. I mean–” I catch myself, reminding myself Neuvillette is a respectable man that I can’t talk carelessly with as if he were a friend. “I mean… I understand. Still, please let me walk with you. I may be imagining it, but you do not seem well. I imagine a trial like that would make anyone feel ill. Not to mention you were the one presiding over the whole ordeal…” I’m a bit nervous that I’m overstepping my boundaries, but I figure it’s worth a shot.

Monsieur Neuvillette looks startled as he stares at me. I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward once more.

He suddenly looks away. Silence continues our conversation; with a gentle grasp of his hand, he removes the umbrella from my hand to hold it above the both of us. 

“Please, let me repay your kindness.” I nod, following him as we walk side by side through the torrential onslaught of rain. 

It isn’t long before we enter what appears to be an indoor cafe, ducking inside. Neuvillette closes my umbrella before he hands it back to me. I whisper my thanks, following closely behind as we find empty seats.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” Neuvillette gestures to the menu in front of me. I feel bad, but I can’t resist looking over the menu. Scanning the various sweet items, my mouth begins to water. “This looks so good! Oh, but this does too. Hmm, maybe I want to try this…” I talk to myself, temporarily forgetting that Neuvillette is sitting in front of me. A sudden burst of laughter startles me, and I quickly place the menu down as I watch Neuvillette.

His eyes are crinkled, his hand running through his hair as he laughs unexpectedly.

Stop it, heart. 

He quickly composes himself, chuckling to myself. “You certainly seem eager. Please, order what you want. It’s on me.” I open my mouth immediately to protest, but he speaks before I can utter a single objection.

“The only thing I want to hear from those lips is what you want to order.”

Archons.

This man will be the death of me.

So, I oblige, telling Neuvillette my order before he promptly stands to leave, ruffling my hair as he passes.

My face burns. 

There’s simply no way he said that to me. No way. Nada. Zlitch.

Except…

I know what I heard.

Augghhhh.

I roughly put my head in my hands as I will my heart to calm down. You barely know the man, he didn’t mean it like that… yet.. 

I’m in trouble.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette returns with my requested order, and I know my eyes must shine with horribly contained excitement. “Do not wait for me, go ahead and…” He struggles to contain his laughter when I don’t even wait for him to finish speaking, happily devouring the treat before me.  

He returns a minute later with my requested drink, just to see an empty plate. He really struggles not to chuckle. “Don’t laugh. I see it on your face, mister.” I warn. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Y/n? I would never laugh at a lady enjoying a sweet treat.” His tone is smug, accompanied by a grin. He places my drink in front of me before he sits in front of me once more. I pout at his obvious teasing, but decide to let it slide.

“Say, where’d you get the fancy glass? What’s in it?” I’m curious, leaning a bit closer in hopes of catching a glimpse at the context. 

“Ah, this? It is simply water, my drink of choice.” He looks all too elegant as he swirls the glass in his hand before he takes a long sip.

Your eyes are glued to his person. 

I should feel embarrassed at my shameless staring, really, but the sight before me is too beautiful to pass up.

The moment his eyes begin to open once he’s finished savoring the taste, I avert my eyes so fast it’s comical.

Unbeknownst to you, he witnessed the whole thing.

He won’t out you though, you’ve treated him with kindness by sharing your umbrella and he can only tease you so much. 

“Anyway, are you feeling better?” I ask. He looks confused for a moment as I take a sip of my drink. You can see the moment it clicks for him, his eyes visibly widening in recognition.

“Oh… yes… I.. am…” He seems completely taken aback by that revelation; it’s all too cute. “I’m glad. I know it mustn’t be easy presiding over cases, but you really do such an important job. I’m sure many are grateful that of all the people in Teyvat, it’s you whose the Iudex of Fontaine.” My words are sincere as I relay my honest feelings to him, closing my eyes as I take another delightful sip of the coffee I ordered.

This taste is absolutely divine. I haven’t had coffee that tastes this good in so long.

I keep my eyes closed as I savor the taste, slowly opening them. 

Just to find Neuvillette staring intently at my features.

To be fair, I did the same thing to him moments before, but gosh this feels embarrassing. I hope I wasn’t making a weird face!

I quickly avert my eyes, looking down at the table as I struggle to contain my smile, surely making an utterly goofy expression. 

I hear Nevuillette’s gentle laugh.

I slowly look up to see such a delicate look on his face; archons, I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end of a gaze like this. Now that I am, I feel all too overwhelmed, yet simultaneously all too.. Elated. 

I giggle; it bursts out of me like a spoiler to a movie bursts from the lips of another. Neuvillette catches himself, coughing awkwardly into his fist, a habit I’ve realized he has, before he looks down at the table.

Now, we both look silly huh?

I smile to myself. 

I’m glad I was able to help him relax…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

We step outside once more. I’m prepared to share my umbrella with him, whether he wants to or not! 

Thankfully, that isn’t needed. We both look to the now clear skies, as the stars twinkle above. It seems particularly easy to spot them tonight, not a cloud or raindrop in sight. 

I cheer.

“Look, Neuvillet- Monsieur! It’s stopped raining!” I excitedly point to the dreamscape of a sky, before I turn to face Neuvillette.

I falter at the fragility of his gaze; he’s as still as a marble statue carved to perfection, his fixed expression conveying a tempest of emotion as he longingly looks to the sky. 

“It’s over…” The words are murmured under his breath. My own leaves in quiet gasp, completely rooting me to the spot as his pulchritudinous expression holds me captive. 

A few moments of silence pass between the two of us, both of us admiring different things, yet they are entirely the same at the root. He slowly lowers his gaze to return to mine once more, and they hold me at his every beck and call, as they always seem to do. 

“Ah.. my apologies. I was lost in thought.” He smiles, turning his body to face me. “I appreciate the time we spent together today. I hope to see you again soon, Y/n.” His words cause my heart to flutter with an undeniable yearning that shouldn’t be there. 

Yet, my heart longs for the man standing before me, it performs somersaults in my chest  as he moves, ready to part ways.

“By the way, you can refer to me as Neuvillette.” His statement is simple, yet it holds so much weight. 

He nods in lieu of saying farewell, his steps echo throughout the quiet streets of Fontaine as he makes his way to his destination. 

I can only clutch my chest as I watch him leave, embedded to the spot long after his figure disappears from my line of sight.

Oh, Archons.

What have I gotten myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

My eyes unconsciously wander to the door once more, waiting for a hand to pry it open from the inside.

I hear giggles beside me, and I can only groan as I get caught red-handed in the act for the fifth time this evening. 

“Name, Monsieur Neuvillette’s meeting should be ending soon.” A sweet Melusine whispers into my ear. I can only muster a meek nod, returning my attention back to the task at hand. 

I’m waiting with a few Melusine, Sedene among us, as Neuvillette finishes his very important meeting.

I wandered into the Palais Mermonia of my own volition, just to find out that Neuvillette is occupied in a meeting. I planned on leaving after I heard the news, but a few Melusine nearby seemed to recognize me and asked me to sit with them.

Lo and behold, I’m here learning how to weave a flower crown with fellow Melusine as we wait outside of Neuvillette’s office.

“You’re doing great Name. Is this really your first time weaving a flower crown?” Sedene’s curious question boosts my confidence. “Yes, it is! I’m glad I’m doing so well that you felt the need to ask that.” Sedene happily nods beside me, before she skips away to tend to something.

I concentrate on weaving the final piece; my trembling fingers complete the flower crown. 

The group of us let out a collective cheer, before we quickly quiet down when Sedene scolds us. We are just right outside Nevuillette’s office after all.

“It looks so pretty! Look at the one I weaved.” A Melusine holds her flower crown up for me to see. It’s much more intricate than mine, but I only feel a swell of pride as I give her my honest praise. 

Suddenly, we hear voices from behind the door. My leg starts to bounce as my eyes remain fixated on the door, waiting for the moment it’ll open. 

I don’t have to wait long, mere moments later the door opens slowly, and Neuvillette’s guest is escorted out of the room. They wave to him, a short blonde with a floaty… thingy. Is that a toy or a person?

I almost want to rub my eyes to make sure I’m seeing things correctly, but I figure it’s best not to question it. I often encounter many creatures and people I wouldn’t expect, but they’re usually a delight in their own unique way.

The blonde traveler and their companion spot all of us sitting together. They seem like they want to come over. They place one foot in front of them before the small floating child beside them interrupts, loudly proclaiming “Paimon is hungry! We’ve gone way too long without food!” The blonde traveler stops and simply smiles, waving in our direction. All of the Melusines wave back in friendly greeting. Well, if they’re friends with Melusines then I see no reason to be cautious. I join the rest of my companions in waving. The blonde traveler winds up chasing the floating thing as they dash towards the exit.  

Huh. What an.. Interesting encounter. 

My thoughts are interrupted when the person I’ve wanted to see most finally emerges from his office. I feel my jaw go slack as I stare in his direction.

He has yet to notice me, so I take the opportunity to admire him. My eyes trace over his form, going painstakingly slow as they admire his length waist white hair. They settle on the adorable ribbon holding his hair in place. I tilt my head, noticing the almost horn like accessories adorning his head. I wonder what that really is? It suits him, but I wonder if..

All my thoughts come to a halt when he finally turns, and his bewitching orbs hold mine hostage. 

I couldn’t look away even if I willed it; nothing regarding his appearance has changed, but it’s almost as if.. The scenery, the world around me has grown more vibrant in color. 

The pounding in my chest feels surreal as he smiles at us. He takes slow and deliberate steps in our direction, curiously eyeing the flower crowns in our hands.

“Name, you may want to close your mouth.” Someone whispers in my ear. 

I immediately close it, feeling all too embarrassed.

Uh.. 

It’s not use. I can’t formulate a single thought.

I dumbly watch as Neuvillette finally reaches us, engaging in pleasant conversation with the girls around me. I pointedly look down, fiddling with the crown in my hands. What if he scolds me for being here, and distracting the Melusine from their duties? I’d hate for them to get in trouble because of me, or to be on the receiving end of Neuvillette’s disappointed gaze.

“Name. What has your mind so occupied that you didn’t notice me sitting down beside you?” Saying I jump in my seat is an understatement.

I’m startled, jerking before I turn to gaze into those mesmerizing orbs once more. I giggle awkwardly before I raise the flower crown in my hands. His gaze finally leaves mine, looking at the object in my hands. 

I’m relieved he’s finally stopped looking at me, but I can’t help but feel a bit sad as well.

What is wrong with me!?

I close my eyes and take a grounding deep breath in.

When they open once more, I feel much more composed. “Neuvillette, these girls showed me how to make a flower crown.” I hear words of agreement as the Melusine all speak up at once. “Yes, and Name has done a wonderful job.” “She’s great company, Monsieur.” “Monsieur, do you want to join us?” “Why don’t you try hers on Monsieur Neuvillette?” Neuvillette laughs, holding up his hand with the onslaught of comments.

“Ah, I see. I’m glad to hear it. I know firsthand how lovely her company is. I’d be delighted to join you all. I do not mind trying Name’s flower crown, as long as she is okay with it.” You gawk at Neuvillette’s smooth response to every comment previously directed at him. You assume it’s a skill he must’ve picked up being the Iudex of Fontaine, being able to take in information from multiple sources at a time.

“Um.. yeah, I’d love it if you could try mine on. Sorry if it isn’t as pretty...” A shy smile lifts my lips before I gesture for him to lower his head. He dismisses my concern with a simple, “Nonsense,” before he’s lowering his head for me. 

I easily place the delicate crown upon his head, admiring his well kept hair up close. 

My eyes find the horn like accessories once more.

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

Yet I do.

My hand has a mind of its own, reaching out before they gently caress the blue accessories on his head.

I hear him suck in a sharp intake of breath as the Melusines around us gasps in dramatic surprise.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, actually allowing me to continue.

I’m not going to waste this opportunity. I selfishly lift both of my hands, caressing each appendage as I feel the smoothness beneath my fingertips. My hands glide up and down; it isn’t long before they reach the base of the appendages. There’s no way this is an accessory, they don’t feel like one. Are these actual horns? Hm, if they are then surely he’ll feel it if I…

A careful squeeze of the bases has him jumping, jerking away from my touch. I immediately start to apologize, but stop myself when I catch sight of his face. His entire face is redder than the shiniest apple in Mondstadt, his eyes looking every which way as he clearly tries to compose himself.

For whatever reason his breathing is a bit ragged and he groans, hiding his head in his hands.

I’ve never seen Neuvillette look so flustered before; this sight is a treat for my eyes, and I’m enjoying every last second of it.

I can’t resist the small coo that leaves my lips.

He groans again.

“N-Name, thank you for the beautiful flower crown. I’ll keep it in my office. Please, excuse me.” He quickly stands, speed walking to his office before the door slams behind him.

You’re a bit bewildered now. And a bit confused.

If those are actual horns on his head, then is Neuvillette really a human? I mean, he could be a hybrid of some sorts maybe. I’ve seen those around when I traveled to different nations, looking for a new home to settle down in.

I feel a bit bad for touching his horns like that without his permission. My worried eyes turn to ask the Melusine if I upset Neuvillette, only to see them all crowded around me, eyes wide and full of awe. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette let you touch his horns Name!” “How unexpected.” “Oh my gosh you two are so cute!” “The other girls were telling the truth!” They all chatter excitedly amongst themselves, giddy and barely able to contain their enthusiasm. They quickly bid me farewell when the door to Neuvillette’s office opens once more, giving me quick hugs and pats on the back before they scatter.

One even wishes me luck.

What do I need luck for? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m definitely taking it. 

Neuvillette appears more composed when he sits down beside me, the flower crown still on his head. “I thought you were going to put the flower crown in your office?” I ask. He seems confused for a moment, before realization reaches his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I did say that. I decided your hard work deserves to be appreciated, so I will wear it until the day comes to an end.” His words elicit a broad grin to appear on my lips, and his eyes noticeably take in the sight.

A smile presents itself on his lips as we spend the next few hours just chatting amongst ourselves. 

I’ve learned that Neuvillette can be quite humorous, given the opportunity. I’ve realized a lot of things about him from our interactions. Like how he prefers to keep distance between himself and the citizens of Fontaine, since it is possible one day they may end up on trial. It makes this relationship we’ve formed a bit unusual, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make me happy.

He also loves water. He wound up telling me how water tastes different from each region, and the feelings they evoke in him when he indulges in their pristine taste. 

Oh, and the warmth he displays towards Melusines is just another thing that I love about him, he can be so–

Wait..

My entire body goes rigid as warmth engulfs every crevice and limb, my body burns like the hottest of waters against human skin. 

Well, my feelings are quite obvious, but to admit it so easily to myself would mean…

Neuvillette stops speaking, eyeing me curiously as I internally berate myself for developing such feelings. I truly don’t know what to make of it, so I simply grip my clothes in my hands, pushing my feelings aside.

Neuvillette seems like he wants to say something, but decided against it. His eyes glance at my balled up fists, and his eyes swirl with an emotion I fail to pinpoint.

“I see you’re still wearing clothes from Liyue. This is not a complaint, just a mere observation.” Ah. I look down at my clothes.

He’s right, maybe it’s time I get something that’ll blend in more. I mean, I see people around Fontaine wearing clothes from Inazuma, Liyue, and Mondstadt even, so there really is no need for me to buy new clothes. I feel comfortable enough to walk around in the clothes I used to wear around Liyue. Still, I have to admit I love Fontaine’s style when it comes to clothes. Maybe I’ll get something new, just to see how I feel in it.

Neuvillette slowly stands. My eyes follow his movements, and they take note of his offered hand. “Come, there is somewhere I wish to take you.” You don’t need to think twice; you happily take his hand, and he helps you stand. 

You dutifully follow Neuvillette, choosing to not read into the fact he has yet to let go of your hand.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I admit, I’m shocked.

Neuvillette escorted me to Chioriya Boutique, and in mere moments one of the staff took my measurements as requested by the Chief Justice. 

The bewilderment on their faces caused a snicker to slip from my lips before I stopped myself.

People’s reactions to Neuvillette are always so varied and dynamic, it’s very entertaining to see yet equally intriguing. 

Neuvillette bombards me with questions regarding my fashion choices before he relays this information to the staff. I wait, expecting something more to happen, but alas he ushers me away from the boutique. 

I sigh, pinching my nose. I really hope he’s not trying to get me anything. I’d love to pick something out for myself, but he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise! I couldn't resist his earnest gaze, so I wound up waiting to the side as he requested.

I look up when the sound of footsteps reach my ears. He approaches me, a satisfied pull of his lips sends my heart into overdrive.

“I have taken care of business here. Now, perhaps we could take a walk by a riverbank ro somewhere similarly fluvial.” He extends his hand to me once more. I’m baffled to say the least. I consider protesting, opening my mouth to insist he does not need to get anything for me, but his hard glare is warning enough.

My mouth closes unceremoniously, and I quietly take his hand. He’s radiant now, humming as he walks closely by my side.

I look to the sky, the blue hues have long since shifted to beautiful pinks and purples.

Oh, Neuvillette. 

You are none the wiser of the effect you have on me…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I wait outside the Opera Epiclese as a strong downpour of rain threatens to drown the poor souls who don’t have an umbrella. 

I didn’t witness the trial today, but it’s become a habit to walk with Neuvillette after his trials. He was conflicted about this habit when it first began, but now I notice the undesigned glint in his eye whenever he catches sight of me after a trial. 

So, it’s turned into a regular part of our daily routine.

Unfortunately it seems the trial wasn’t an easy one today; as people file out of the courthouse, sullen faces are many a dozen. 

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest; if the citizens' faces look so solemn, then I can only imagine…

Minutes pass, long after the last person left the opera house. I start to second guess if he’s even here anymore. Maybe he left so I wouldn’t have to see him? Fortunately, he chooses that moment to emerge from the Opera house. 

My eyes light up, excited to finally see him… but..

Oh..

poor Neuvillette…

I bite my lip when his calm, neutral expression catches my eye. Neuvillette isn’t one to openly express his thoughts and feelings through expression, but I know it must’ve been particularly harrowing if he can’t even muster a frown. 

He looks up, and his impassive gaze locks with mine. He feigns a smile as he approaches me. My hand grips the handle of the umbrella; my heart aches for him.

“Thank you for waiting for me, Name. I apologize for taking so long, shall we pro-” Something about his eyes, devoid of spirit, arrests me. His rigid movements evokes a dreadful throb in my chest. 

I drop the umbrella I’m holding, opting to rest my hands on his cheeks. He’s a bit startled by my actions, lifting his hands to rest on top of my trembling one’s. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes. 

He leans into my touch.

Silence ensues.

The cold nibs at my skin. It threatens to seep into me through the fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t care less when the man before me is clearly hurting.

A moment passes before Neuvillette clears his throat. I already know he’s going to try and brush this off, like he normally tends to do. 

“Name, while I appreciate your concern, I don’t–” “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.” The rest of his words die in his throat. He’s silent, but I can see the effect the words had on him; his eyes squeeze so tightly it looks borderline painful.

“Name.. where did you hear..?” Oh. He wants to know where I learned about this.

“Do you remember that blonde traveler you had a meeting with that day? And the floating child thing, wait, I think they said their name was Paimon..” You think out loud, satisfied when Neuvillette stiffly nods in confirmation.

“Well, they were one of the attendees of today’s trial. They stopped to chat with me when they saw me waiting here for you. They told me when I see you and it’s still raining, if I say ‘Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Don’t cry,’ it’ll cheer you up.” My explanation doesn’t seem to surprise him. He only sighs.

It takes him a moment before he slowly opens his eyes.

“I… see. Well.. They were correct. I’ll have to thank them during our next encounter.” I smile brightly at him, and in response his gaze seems to soften. I look out to the sky; the rain has considerably lessened its intensity. Droplets still hit the ground, but it’s an improvement from the earlier downpour. 

“I do have to wonder though, why does an old children’s song speaking of the hydro dragon have such an effect on you, Neuvillette?” He raises an eyebrow, something I didn’t know he was capable of. 

I giggle as he informs me, “It’s not that the song has an effect on me per se, but…” “Hmmm?” I prompt him with a  gentle smile on my lips. He looks elsewhere. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, hydro dragon.”

The way he whisks his head, still resting in the palm of my hands, to gawk at me confirms my underlying suspicions. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but if I’m really not.. Then maybe..

I release Neuvillette’s face in favor of wrapping him in a warm embrace. He emits a choked sound from deep in his throat when I start to stroke his back, repeating the rhyme once more.

Neuvillette’s sigh sounds equally exhausted as it does exasperated. “Whoever created that rhyme must have believed the Hydro Dragon was akin to a bleeding heart. It could  not have been known if the Hydro Dragon would grieve for humans…” You ponder the meaning of his words for a few moments, before you respond with your own thoughts.

“While that may be true, it’s something only the Hydro Dragon knows the answer to. Whether he sympathizes with us silly humans…” I pull back to look at him. I’m really praying the love I feel stirring in my heart isn’t obvious on my face.

His eyes widen a fraction. He appears completely taken aback. I listen for the sound of the rain, and when I don’t hear it I look back to the sky. The rain has stopped now.

A droplet drips down from the building above, landing on my nose.

Neuvillette’s body shakes, and I return my gaze to him. 

He pulls me close as laughter racks his body. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh so brazenly; I’d be a fool not to join in.

It takes a long time for our laughter to die down, but once it does Neuvillette speaks. His words, “The people of Fontaine are innocent. Through the time I have spent by your side, it was easy to determine that you share a similar verdict, Name.”

I avoid gazing into his eyes for the duration of our conversation, lest he notice my fairly obvious lovestruck gaze.

 

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

He takes a step closer, and I take a step back.

My heartbeat is loud in my ears; roaring louder than an obnoxious car engine as it speeds down the highway. 

He mimics every move I make; for every step back I take, he takes a step forward. This continues until I’m left with nowhere to retreat, back pressed firmly against the wall behind me. 

He takes his time approaching me as my eyes anxiously dart every which way. His office looks the same as I remember it, except…

My mind registers the flower crown on his desk, beside the pile of paperwork that he just finished. 

He kept it?

My thoughts are brought back to him when he’s standing before me, blocking my view of everything else that isn’t him. “Name, could you please repeat what you just said?” I swallow the lump in my throat. He sounds angry. Livid, even. All I did was make a joke about myself..

“I said that, uh, I’m sorry for ruining your image. Being seen with me must not be a good look for you, being the Iudex of Fontaine, and then I said my feelings for you were stupid–” He doesn’t let me finish, slamming his hands on either side of my head. 

SLAM!

I jump. 

I feel small between his arms and his imposing figure in front of me. It’s difficult, but I manage to maintain eye contact with him. The emotion in his eyes reflects a raging tsunami, oppressive with a dangerous glint that’d make anyone feel weak in the knees. My knees feel especially weak right now, being caged in like this. 

“The words you speak reek of lies. It’s a fabrication your mind has created to protect yourself.” His words are true and pierce through the walls I’ve been trying to maintain around my heart. “I don’t understand…” I whisper. 

another lie.

“What is it that you don’t understand?” His voice is low, and the words sound like a growl leaving his lips. “I.. don’t understand why someone- a being- like you, or how, you could possibly.. Return the feelings I harbor for you. You’re the Hydro Dragon after all, are you not? A respectable, prominent figure at that, whose company brings me pleasure and shines a light on my mundane everyday life. So, why, how is it possible that you… you said you…” I struggle to finish my statement, but he waits for me patiently.

“...You said you feel the same, but I don’t understand how you possibly…” He clicks his tongue, clearly aggravated. I don’t believe he’s aggravated with me, rather more, with what I have said. 

He closes his eyes. It’s almost as if I can see the gears turning in his head; he’s figuring out what he wants to say in response to my absurd claim, as he previously called it..

His eyes slowly open, and ardent determination is evident within his burning iris’. His next words stun me into complete silence, absolutely enraptured with the overflowing emotion seeping from his words. 

“Honestly Name, I’m trying to comprehend how you haven’t determined this for yourself, but it is alright. I will make things clear for you now, Celestia and the Heavenly Principles be damned; I yearn for you like a traveler yearns for a haven, a place of respite for their weary soul. My heart aches to feel the weight of your hand in mine. It longs to memorize every ridge of your palm, admire every dip and curve of your body, outline any and every beautiful scar that embellishes your natural beauty. So I’ll be damned if I allow you to stand before me belittling yourself when we are both aware that your words hold no significance; the truth of the matter lies in the longing gaze you’re giving me now. It lies in the quick withdrawal of your hand whenever mine ‘accidentally’ brushes against yours. It lies in precious tears upon your lashes, as you try to conceal your feelings for me. It…” His powerful words lose momentum as said tears escape the confines of my lashes, painting the planes of my face as they drip down at a leisurely pace. 

He lifts a gloved hand to wipe them away, before he pulls it back in a moment of uncertainty. I watch, beguiled, as he removes his gloves before reaching for my cheek, thumb tenderly caressing my tear stained cheeks. 

A strangled sob threatens to escape my lips, so he leans in, unhurried and deliberate with every movement he makes.

His lips brush against my own, yet they hover mere millimeters from pressing firmly against my keen lips. “May I?” His question is simple in nature, yet the implications of his words hold so much weight it threatens to suffocate you. It’s all you’ve wanted, truly, yet you find yourself in a daze. 

He waits. Patiently.

I close my eyes and breathe, and he breathes with me. 

So when I open my eyes once more, my answer is resolute, unyielding, in its truthfulness and authenticity. 

“Yes.”

I can feel his breathing speed up, as little puffs of air tickle my face. His hands feel softer than I’d imagined, as they rest upon my cheeks. 

His tentative lips eradicate the irksome space that previously separated us. I smile into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. It doesn’t take long for the both of us to feel comfortable. Our lips part, only to seek the warmth of the other’s once more. This time, it’s Neuvillette who smiles as we kiss.

His lips eagerly taste mine as we explore each other. His hands move from my face to brush against my sides, stopping at the hips. They reside there, pulling me closer. A sweet hum reaches my ears, emitted from deep within his chest. 

Joy bubbles up from within as our kiss comes to a natural conclusion; Neuvillette pulls back to provide me an opportunity to breathe.

I feel warm all over as I study his smokey gaze. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. My palpitating heart can’t take much more of this. 

Yet, I verbalize no objections as he languidly captures my lips once again. He’s impatient now; his hungry lips seek to claim every aspect of me, mind, body and soul. His lips easily devour mine, his tongue, which sought entrance moments before, now laps against my own. 

A shiver racks my body as the warmth flooding my body threatens to be my demise. My hands seek purchase on his shoulder, pressing into his shoulder blades. I’m astonished by the passion within Neuvillette’s tender, yet heated embrace. 

I have to pull away, lest I be swept up in his treacherous waves. A wistful sigh escapes his parted lips as he rests his forehead against my own. I gasp for air; He stole my breath away, just as the mighty waves of the sea indiscriminately rob many of their ability to breath, resulting in futile attempts to resurface.

 I require more time than I’d like to admit to catch my breath. 

“So.. does this mean you like me or?” My joke does not go unrewarded. His unamused look drives me into a fit of giggles. 

Love washes over me, like a gentle caress, when he joins in.

I admire his unabashed laughter as his thumb rubs soothing circles on my hip. 

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Distinct giggles can be heard from the other side of the door.

Neuvillette sighs.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, meanwhile my chest rapidly rises and falls in mirth.

“Do not encourage them.” He groans.

I overhear Sedene tell the other Melusine of the sight she was met with earlier this evening, as Neuvillette and I walked into his office hand in hand, and the girls gathered around her squeal with glee.

I peeked out of Neuvillette’s office a few moments ago, and my eyes were met with the adorable sight of a group of Melusine gathered around Sedene as if it were story time. 

Now, I rest my head on Neuvillette’s shoulder as he signs the last document of the evening.

“Oh dear. I worry they’ll continue to discuss this for many days to come.” I can only smile as his face is colored with endearment; his eyes soften and he fails to stifle a smile.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. They’re having fun, and they care dearly for you, Neuvillette..” “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” His retort leaves me feeling confused, but he only reaches for my hand.

I watch as he plays with my fingers, humming a tune to himself. “Dear, they have come to care deeply for you as well. Do you not notice the way Sedene’s eyes light up whenever you speak with her? Or how Kiara always runs in your direction the moment she spots you? Or, how about when– mmph!” The rest of his words are muffled behind my hands, pressed firmly to his mouth.

I can feel the grin he’s making.

“Okay okay, point taken.” I grumble, removing my hands.

My heart flutters when he sends a wink my way. 

He turns his attention back to the signed document on his desk, moving it to the finished pile. “Speaking of caring deeply for someone… Name, I have something I wish to tell you.” 

“Should the day ever come where you choose to remain by my side, I shall reveal something I know will be of interest to you.” I’m sure my face looks as astonished as I feel, because Neuvillette simply laughs, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“Now now, there’s no need to make such a face.” “What are you talking about? Reveal.. What?” He only closes his eyes, emitting a quiet hum.

“My name, of course.” 

My entire body stills as the gears turn in my head.

“Wait, so Neuvillette isn’t..” His eyes compel me, keeping mine locked with his as they open once more. A deep emotion lies within them, granting me a glimpse of the altruistic soul within. 

“I have always asked citizens to refer to me by my last name.” His words make sense, and with the knowledge I have of him, he is one to keep people at a polite distance. Still… It's a bit shocking.

Even so, I have no qualms with this arrangement.

“It’s a deal, I’ll patiently wait for the day you tell me your name. ..First name, I mean.” There’s a glint in his eyes that reflects pleasant surprise, albeit there’s a hint of a challenge that resides within them.

“Oh? You sound confident. Not that I’m opposed, that is the ideal outcome I desire for our relationship.” I smile, placing my fingers under his chin as I lean in for a kiss.

He smiles as our lips embrace each other, placing his hands firmly against my back.

I had every right to feel confident; after all, I finally was able to witness Neuvillette on his knees, ring in hand as his loving gaze threatened to break the dam I was avidly struggling to hold back.

My eyes glisten with unshed tears as I join him on the ground. I practically throw myself onto him as I embrace him, and his carefree laugh is an alluring melody to my ears. He leisurely slips the ring onto my finger, pulling back so he can properly face me.

“Now, are you ready for me to consummate our arrangement?” My head bobs up and down so fast that I make myself a bit dizzy.

Warmth gives Neuvillette’s features an almost angelic glow as a delicate finger, free from the confines of his gloves, brushes along my cheek. 

“Hmm…” He stalls.

I pout. He beams.

“Alright, alright. I will leave you in suspense no longer. My name is…”

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Likes, Comments, & Reblogs are appreciated !!

[theprettynosferatu]

Unit Commander John Heinlein was a simple man. Above all, he valued order. Order kept the world safe, functional, understandable. Everyone and everything had its proper place and proper role: like different organs in a body, they all contributed to the overall health of society as long as they did what they were supposed to do and didn’t get any stupid ideas. In that gigantic body, John Heinlen was a fist, and stupid ideas were what he punched into oblivion. Reality was simple, and if it wasn’t, the higher-ups pointed him to the complication and he pummeled it back into simplicity.

As usual, intelligence was spotty. Why exactly this club was a Stupid Idea, John did not know nor did he care. What the informant had revealed was something about women going against their conditioning, although they had not revealed how or why. It seemed patently ridiculous to John Heinlein. Conditioned women were happy, and they made their men happy. Simple, proper. Everything in its natural place. If Fulgrim’s was messing with that, it deserved to be squashed.

Looking at the rest of the Unit, he felt sending them was perhaps a waste of resources. If the informant was correct, they would be facing women and whatever deviants might be attending off-hours, if any; but it was not his call to make, and he liked it that way. His purpose was to punch, not to decide who deserved to be punched.

The six men stood in front of the gaudy purple door. As much as he wanted to kick the door down and be done with it, John played it by the book. He made the signal to place the breaching device and got into the correct position, ingrained in him by hundreds of hours of training. Still, no matter how many times the device blasted the door open, John always felt underwhelmed. Part of him seemed to expect a big thunderous sound, instead of the measured, barely audible “pop” designed not to alert the criminals.

Like a perfect machine, they went in, weapons ready. They were all running on autopilot, relying on their modified genetics and exhaustive drilling. It took only a few seconds for them to reach the same, obvious conclusion. No threats present. Instead, two women stood by the door, as if expecting them. John felt a deep revulsion, something primal stirring within him. It was wrong.

The women weren’t blonde. They weren’t smiling. They didn’t seem pleasant, or demure, or bubbly. In fact, they looked like wolves on the prowl. One had blood-red hair, a leather corset, fishnet stockings and boots that ended in the sort of spiked heels that could kill a man. The other was, to John Heinlein, even worse. She seemed shy, wearing a short skirt and trying to cover up… but her eyes spoke of a deep hunger, a devious intelligence and a depraved longing he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” said the redhead with mock gratitude. “You see, I’ve been trying to train this sweet little creature right here…” she added as her hand went under the other girl’s skirt. “But I’m afraid she needs a bit of… male guidance. A strong hand to show her the way”

John frowned. There was something strange in the air. A subtle smell he couldn’t fully detect. As he turned to ask his comrades about it, he noticed Johnson shifting his weight slightly. It was a small thing, but utterly out of place for a man of their training. And he could tell the women saw it too. Slowly, seductively the redhead walked toward Johnson, leading the other girl by her wrist. It was surreal, unsettling. But they couldn’t just open fire on females.

“Johnson, step away from the females, now!”, barked Commander Heinlein.

For the first time in his illustrious career, the Commander’s order went unheeded. He watched in horror as the petite woman placed a slender hand on the soldier’s chest and, with a look designed to melt hearts and break down barriers at the same time, pouted like a mischievous child.

“Please, Sir. I’ve been bad. So, so bad… Won’t you teach me? I’m a very good learner… if I’m put in my place”

Meanwhile, the woman in the spiked heels had gone around Johnson, and whispered in his ear as her hand caressed his perfectly sculpted abs and kept moving downwards…

“She can be so good… we both can be so good… but are you man enough to show us you can handle us? Tame us? Mold us into your perfect good girls?”

Johnson was breathing heavily, paralyzed by a million conflicting impulses. He had a job to do. He was a soldier. He was…

And just then, he broke. Johnson grabbed the smaller woman by the neck, and in a swift movement turned her around and bent her over. He couldn’t see the devilish smile on her face, but John Henlein sure did. There was victory in that lustful look, a triumph only magnified when, cock hard as metal, Johnson railed her from behind as hard as he possibly could, his mind gone in a frenzy of half-formed sentences and grunts, the redhead woman rubbing her pussy as she now shouted encouragement.

“Do it! Pound that little slut! Show her what she really is! Fucking break her like the stupid fuckdoll she dresses as! Punish that pussy with your cock! Make her scream for me… make her beg! Make. Her. Yours!”

“Johnson!”, shouted Heinlein in vain. The soldier was gone, and all that remained was a beast, a bundle of muscles determined to conquer the females before it, to claim them and mark them as his. And worse, whoever was behind it all remained unseen, deeper inside the club.

“Fuck! Everyone else! On me! We press on!”

“What about Johnson?”, asked a rookie soldier by the name of Phillips.

“We lost him! Now, move!”

They stormed the place, kicking down doors- no time to play it straight, as much as it pained Unit Commander John Heinlein, for whom standard procedure was akin to a biblical dogma. With every hallway they crossed, every room they breached, the air seemed to get heavier, denser somehow. Sweeter, perhaps.

They entered a room covered in black velvet. It caused a strange effect, almost as if the walls themselves devoured the light. And there, sitting in the middle of the room, long legs crossed, was another female. Like the ones before, she didn’t look like the blonde, obedient women that had undergone the mandatory conditioning. Horror gripped Heinlein. This person went against every conceivable notion of what a woman should be. Clad in a leather corset and thigh-high boots, she stared the five soldiers down with a look of disgust and clear disapproval. Even the sight of their guns was to her just another gauche shortcoming, one in a very long list of inadequacies clamored without words by her deep, green eyes.

“Did I say you could come in?”, she asked.

The question was ridiculous. They were Soldiers. They didn’t ask, they acted. And yet, two of Heinlein’s men started moving their heads, something between shaking off a creeping mental fog and answering the woman’s question. No, she had not said they could come in.

“Get on the ground, and-” started barking Heinlein before the woman cut him off.

“No. it’s not your turn to speak. You don’t talk unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

Unit Commander Heinlein froze. Her tone, firm, in total control, was something he recognized very well. For a moment he was a raw recruit again, undergoing basic training. A part of him, a part of all Soldiers knew to obey that sort of utterance, that confident command. It was part of the crucial training that made any warrior more than a brawler. It was the core of discipline. He knew, at that moment, they were all in grave danger.

“Now, that sort of rude entrance needs to be punished. You all know it, don’t you my toys? But I’ll be kind…ish. How about you start by being a pack of good dogs and kneel?”

Heinlein felt his legs almost give in. He managed to stay on his feet… barely. He watched as most of his squad went on their knees, their eyes wide, fixed on that beautiful woman, seeking every ounce of validation she could give them. Ready to obey.

“Crawl to me, pets”

They did. With a few words, she had made them love her. Adore her. Obey her. Their sense of duty twisted, molded, corrupted. And Heinlein felt himself wanting to join them, wanting so badly to be one of her favorite pets… no, her very favorite. The alpha of the pack. Perfect for her. Obedient for her. 

It took a superhuman effort to turn away from her perfect silhouette, her beckoning curves, her voice of absolute command and dominion. The last thing he saw before sprinting away from that goddess of a woman was his once proud squad almost fighting like dogs for the privilege of kissing her heels. How he hated the fact that he wanted to join them…

He tried to push it all away as he ran through hallways, deeper into the club, down stairs, through room after room. Deeper and deeper… the air getting heavier and sweeter… his mind getting fuzzier…

How long did he run? How deep did he go? He couldn’t tell. Different themes passed him by like a blur, and he felt almost as if he was just running in place, the facility moving around him, assaulting him with perverted ideas, digesting him like some monstrous organism designed to destroy everything that was right and natural in the world… but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Stopping, he felt, would mean the end.

And then, he stopped.

The woman looked like no one he had ever seen. Every part of her seemed designed to short-circuit his understanding of reality, his very core, and he found himself frozen before her, his brain trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. She looked like something out of some strange, fae world: she wore her hair in dancing ponytails, one dyed blue, one pink. Her makeup was a striking mixture of neon colors punctuated by tiny drawn hearts scattered over a face that spoke at once of innocence and mischief. She had a single fishnet glove on, mismatched thigh-high socks, a pink and black nighty that hovered between dark and slutty and the most pure chastity… Even her eyes, he noticed, refused to follow any notion of order: one was a deep blue, while the other was an inhuman, alluring red. She was something he couldn’t comprehend, and yet couldn’t stop watching. She moved with a strange liquid freedom, as if gravity and anatomy were vague suggestions she very much didn’t intend to follow. And her smile… he couldn’t quite place what it was: it was joyful, yes, but also shy and yet it had a hint of a predator somewhere deep inside it…

“Oh, hi!” she chirped and bounced out of her purple sofa. “I was fingering myself!” she declared, almost with pride.

Unit Commander Heinlein found himself unable to respond. This… being was not a woman. Not as he understood them, at least. And yet he could feel something stirring inside, something he had forgotten about long, long ago…

“Who are you?”, she asked, her face becoming almost a caricature of confusion before snapping back into a jubilant smile. “I’m Alara! Nice to meet you!”

She ran to him. Normally such an action would call for tactical evasion, or a well-practiced takedown. Instead, Heinlein found himself frozen in place as the girl hugged him. She smelled sweet, like the air around them.

“Are you okay, dude?”, she asked with a look of genuine concern. 

“I… this establishment has been deemed… unsuitable and against the… proper conditioning of females… get on the ground, and…”

“Ooooh, the ground? I can go to the ground for you, Daddy! Or do you prefer Sir? Or Joe? You know what? Joe it is! Is your name Joe? You look like a Joe to me. So, the ground! Ass up? Or maybe on my back, legs open? Which one do you want, Joe?”

Heinlein, whose first name was most certainly not Joe, watched as the girl seemed to flow from one pose to another: one second she was on all fours, looking over her shoulder with an inviting smile; the next she was on her back, legs open, her eyes shocked like a virgin about to feel a man inside her for the very first time… then she bounced back to her feet and pouted.

“Come on, Joe, make up your mind! Or do you want me to take charge? Wait! I should have it… here!”. The girl beamed, brandishing a gigantic, double-sided dildo. “Want me to use this on you, Joe? Come on, give me a little something to work with here!”

“Please stay still. Do you understand the situation? You have been… altered. You’re not a normal…”

“Normal? Normal?! Joe, how boring are you? Seriously, how many times can you fuck a blonde big-titty bimbo before it gets so fucking samey? Fuck ‘normal’, Joe! Let your freaky self out to play for once!”

“I do not have a freaky self”

Alara tripped on her own legs and landed sprawled on the carpeted ground before shooting Heinlein a look that might as well have been directed at a two-headed alien, before turning into an expression of pure, profound pity.

“Oh, Joe… of course you do! We all have our freaky sides… don’t think for a second they’ve drilled yours completely dead. It’s there�� I can feel it. And so can you, can’t you? Growing inside you. Getting stronger. Don’t you get tired of following orders? Of everything being always in the same place? Of loving the same woman? The world isn’t like that, Joe! People aren’t like that! We are insane, contradictory, fucking twisted messes… and that’s perfect! Come on, Joe… don’t you ever think about doing… the wrong thing?”

Her words dripped inside his head like honey, so much so that he didn’t notice her approaching him, rubbing him through his pants as she playfully made him so confused, so mixed up, so fuzzy and…

“Mmmm… tell me Joe… what’s that thing you’d like to do, that wrong, wrong thing you dream of in the dark, swearing to yourself you’ll never say a word of it?”

“Non-regulation shoes” 

His mouth had spoken before his brain had even registered it.

“Oh, don’t like the uniform shoes?”, she teased.

“Uncomfortable”, he mumbled.

“So… why don’t you take them off?”

“On mission. Tactical shoes. Reinforced. Useful”

“Are you going to tactically kick me, Joe? Of course not! No one would kick pretty little me… well, unless I asked… but not with those shoes! Who’s gonna know, Joe? No one’s gonna spank you for letting your feet out for a bit! So… take them off!”

“Can’t. On a mission”

“Oh, for fuck’s- come here, you big dummy”

Alara lunged for his shoes, and made a big show of pulling with all her might. Heinlein watched her, entranced.

“A little help here, Joe? These fucking things are tighter than your ass! I mean, I’m just guessing there”

He moved as if in a dream. He released the lock on one boot, then the other. Alara flew back, boot in hand, before jumping up, holding the black boot in the air like a trophy.

“Victory! Look, Joe! You have one boot off and the world hasn’t ended!”

It was true. He looked down at his feet. He had gone against standard procedure. In fact, he had flat-out broken a strict, simple rule. No one was screaming at him. Nothing bad had happened. If anything, he was overcome by childish elation. Suddenly, his world had shifted. Rules were words. Only that. No more solid than millions of other words spoken every single day. 

“Sooooo? How do you feel, you rebel?”

“It’s… good”

Alara smiled and bent over.

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against using a suspect as a living fleshlight, isn’t there? A rule against pounding pussy when on a mission? A rule against using little me as your own personal, depraved fuckdoll?”

“There are many such rules”

“And how do you feel about them now?”

“I don’t give a fuck”

Her screams of ecstasy echoes through the entire club. She pushed him further, and he only growled and, for once, did exactly as he pleased. Alara could only cum, and cum again in victory. Every act was a testament to her triumph. He used her throat, not caring if she gagged, if she choked. He slapped her face and she laughed. He spit on her mouth, grabbed her neck, took her tight asshole. He came once deep inside her, but it wasn’t enough. Alara knew the aphrodisiac in the air gave some… special endurance as well, and she intended to see exactly how long they could go. 

By the end her clothes had been ripped off her, her tits were covered in cum, her pussy pumped full three times, her ass abused, her buttocks red with spankings, her makeup ruined. And by the end, he had become anything but a Soldier.

The following day a meeting was called at the highest levels of the government. An elite unit had gone into Fulgrim’s, never to return. 

They would have to take drastic measures if they hoped to contain the corruption now growing in their city.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[thesudokukid]

Finished one of my fics recently, added a surprise one-shot to another. Figured it couldn't hurt to poke my toe into the water with my most popular fic. See if posting on Tumblr is a good idea for me.

Personal Question (why are you apologizing)

Pairing: Autistic! Connor x Autistic! Nonbinary! Reader

Word Count: 2433

AO3 Next: Basic Decency (we're being watched)

Machine Connor Variant on AO3 On Tumblr

“Why are you apologizing?”

Four words you have always wanted to hear after an infodumping session. Four impossible, sacred words induce the sweetest pain you've ever felt.

You can't have heard him right. That has to be wishful thinking on your part. Right? Right?

In which Connor asks you a personal question, as he does, you infodump in response, and experience two miracles in the same day.

This is aimed at other autistic people. I wrote this in the hopes of giving myself catharsis and am sharing it on the grounds that other autistic people may find it cathartic too.

Alternating POV fic under the cut!

“Detective,” Connor says. “Would you mind overly much if I asked you a personal question?”

He reminds you so much of you with that question, you can't help but shake your head and grin, “Of course not, go ahead.”

“This ought to be fuckin' good,” your dad grumbles.

“Why did you choose to pursue a dual degree and not a double major? From my understanding, attending university as a neurodivergent student is hard enough, a dual degree on top of that must have been…”

Oh, that. It's a good opener for a casual conversation with you. Curious and sympathetic to what you must have suffered without tripping over itself to do so.

“It was hell on earth some days, make no mistake. The workload alone-”

At this point you laugh so long he looks honestly alarmed by it. Seeing this, you shake your head.

“I figured if I’m gonna fail, I might as well fail because I dreamed too big and not because I couldn't hack it in general. The fact that psychology is one of my special interests was also pretty helpful.”

For a second Connor looks interested. Actually genuinely interested. This is interrupted by your dad coughing out of nowhere. And also Connor looking around like there's some kind of active threat happening. As soon as he realizes there's not, he comes back to the conversation and just…tilts his head. Maybe that interest wouldn't mean much to a neurotypical but for you? For you who’ve masked so long you don't even allow yourself to engage in your special interests anymore? It's everything.

You can't help the smile that breaks onto your face. Because for a minute, for a moment, for just a little while…someone actually wants to hear you talk about your special interests. And since it's been so long, you go at it a lot harder than you otherwise might have. Even mentioning your first special interest.

—

“Using my first special interest of Titanic as an example, if the devil were to walk up to me and tell me that I would be able to learn everything there is to know about the Titanic, absolutely everything, within my lifetime in exchange for my soul? Could not make that deal fast enough. Wouldn't read the fine print.”

Connor leans forward as well as he can. At the moment, nothing matters more to him than this. He doesn't quite understand why. Only that the social integration protocol isn't even a factor at this point.

“Explain?”

The resulting smile is so bright it could outshine the sun itself. The Detective begins to speak more loudly, more quickly. Stumbling over their words in their excitement to share their interest.

“Devil would be utterly terrified of how quickly I agreed. And not only that, I would honestly feel like I got the better end of the deal out of that one. By a long shot. The Devil would have to give me absolutely everything and even then it still wouldn't be enough. I would annoy the Devil so much I would be given my soul again just so I’d stop being so much of a bother about it and as you can probably surmise that absolutely would not work.”

The Detective laughs and shrugs casually, for once, perfectly at ease. There's even a sunny smile on their face.

“By virtue of being my first special interest it’s also the most intense but that's generally how I feel about psychology as well. You can imagine how much of a boon that was under those circumstances I’m sure.”

They blink and perhaps three seconds later, the joy recedes and their bright smile fades. Only to be replaced by a brittle smile.

—

That last sentence… You’re infodumping. You get your first chance to talk about your special interest to someone outside your family in years and you fucking blew it by infodumping. Of course you did. Of course you did. Your throat’s gone dry, your face has gone hot. You're maybe five seconds of bursting into tears at best. You force yourself to disengage. To avoid thinking about how desperately lonely it is to not be able to talk about your special interests at all. To force yourself not to infodump. You're so tired of hiding. But even still, you have to.

You give yourself one last moment to feel grief for who you're not allowed to be. To feel pathetic for not having a normal level of interest in something so deeply important to you. And then you claw off the part of you that clings like a barnacle to such childish things.

“And I just realized I did a fucking infodump. God that's embarrassing.”

It tries to hurt. It wants to hurt. You smother the feeling and roll your eyes at yourself as you explain what infodumping is.

“It boils down to dropping a whole lot of info about a topic at once. And I don't typically notice when someone has gotten bored or disinterested or is trying to leave the conversation and I…got too emotional. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

Detach. Detach. Detach. Detach. Don't feel interest. Don’t show interest. You feel nothing.

You only realize that your past self is clinging to its special interests again when it digs in at Connor’s apparent “no, wait” look. Is-Is he actually interested?

There's no way. There isn't. It's absolutely impossible. You're just seeing what you want to see.

And then… And then… A miracle.

—

“Why are you apologizing?”

Four words you have always wanted to hear after an infodumping session. Four impossible, sacred words induce the sweetest pain you've ever felt.

You can't have heard him right. That has to be wishful thinking on your part. Right? Right?

You blink at him a few times and take a sip of your drink. You look up at the rainy sky, half expecting to see a winged pig fly by. You look back at Connor.

“Genuine question so please hear me out,” you say. Connor nods instantly and you're so relieved you could cry, “Did you actually ask what I’m hoping you asked? Because I’ve wanted someone to say that for so long I am honestly afraid that I’m hallucinating.”

“You aren't imagining or hallucinating anything,” Connor says. “I did in fact ask why you were apologizing for infodumping. Is there a specific reason you felt imagining it was the more likely option?”

There are tears trying to come out of your eyes right now. If you tell him now, right now, they're going to fall and won't stop falling until you can finish your grief of having to suppress who you really are. Feeling childish for having genuine all-consuming passion. The kind of emotional breakdown that’s best to have in private.

He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you and as much as you would be delighted to allow him to, you can't. At least, not right now.

“As much as I’d like to answer that question, that's best saved for a long drawn out conversation. You can call me Ainsel by the way. Internal systems only. For your specific serial number. To make up for the fact that I’m not answering that personal question yet. Sure we're all on a lunch break now but that's gonna end eventually and then it's back to work. Also, I might have a breakdown about it. Lot of grieving to do there.”

“Oh,” he says. It feels like a stab to the heart the way he looks like a wounded puppy about it. Not unlike the way you probably did when you first realized most people don't have a special interest in psychology. That most people will never understand that you express affection by studying them like a bug under a microscope. Most people are in fact deeply offended by it. In his case the worry seems to be that he hurt your feelings or brought up painful memories.

“I’m sorry.”

He gets up and gets in the car. If you don't follow him now, he's going to start suppressing his interest just like you did and oh God he's autistic isn't he?

You were done with your lunch anyway so you toss its detritus and go sit in the car with him. Your dad is still sitting there, eating his lunch.

You look in the general direction of the rear view mirror where Connor is staring at you. Watching, watching, analyzing you. He's like you. The thought settles your stomach more than you imagined possible.

—

Connor is keenly aware of Ainsel's presence the moment they enter their father's vehicle. Eyes sticking to them like a magnet via the rear view mirror, unable and unwilling to let go.

Fortunately they don't seem to be offended by the attention. His eyes move away the second Ainsel's eyes catch his, suddenly forced to remember his place in the world. They're a human. He's an android. They don't owe him anything. They never did. They're meant to have a one way relationship. He owes them an answer to their questions. Not the other way around. He certainly has no right to ask them something so immensely personal without warning.

He opens his mouth to apologize for the discomfort he previously caused them and finds himself surprised by Ainsel's shake of the head.

“You don't owe me an apology. I wasn't offended. About the staring or asking about something personal. I never said that I wouldn't answer the question or that I had better things to do with my time. I didn't even say that it was too painful to answer at all. I only said it was too painful to answer that question during work hours. That is a whole separate thing and idea from your perception that your personal question brought up too many bad memories for me to answer it at all.”

It's here that his programming confirms it would be a waste of time to ingratiate himself with the Lieutenant rather than Ainsel. For someone so immensely private to tell him their name, or something akin to their name, can only speak well of how much goodwill they have towards him already.

And even aside from that, it doesn't make what just happened right. It's him who should be comforting them, not the other way around. He shouldn't even need it.

Decision made. Connor gets out of the car and into the backseat where he closes the door.

—

Your hands start to move, ready and willing to tap out the rhythm of Shave and a Haircut. You force them to be still. You don't want them to be. You really, really don't want them to be. But you’ve had too much good luck today. You don't want to press it by stimming in a way that's actually noticeable. Once you uncork that bottle it won't want to be recorked. Connor might be fine with it. Maybe. He was fine with your info-dumping at him after all. And not even that, he seemed honestly upset that you stopped info-dumping.

But just because he's fine with one visible autistic trait doesn't mean he'll be fine with another. His coin tricks might, maybe, be a stim but you haven't known him too long so it's hard to tell.

You bring your hands closer together, to interlock them in an effort to keep yourself from stimming. They start trembling as if in response. Almost like they're trying to reassure you that you can stim, really, it's fine.

You bite your lip and prepare to ignore the reassurance. And then another miracle.

Connor sticks a hand between both of yours and very gently, very carefully stops you from locking your hands together by pulling them apart.

There's someone else it wouldn't have worked for. Hell, for you, that may not have even worked if you hadn't realized he was autistic like you. But right now, in this moment, for you? It was exactly the right thing to do.

Apparently your calmness is showing on your face because Connor pulls back his hands and watches as you sigh from relief and lean back against the window for a minute.

You shake the previous tension out of your hands and then let them do what they wanted to earlier. They clap out Shave and a Haircut, Two Bits loud enough your hands actually hurt afterwards. But it's a good kind of pain. Necessary. Because it means that you're healing.

—

Seeing that Ainsel seems to be feeling much better, Connor tries to reassure them he isn't going to think less of them for their autistic traits.

“Perhaps sharing the level of information you did earlier at the speed you shared it would have been too much for a human. But I’m not human, am I? You needn't feel contrition or have any qualms about potentially being unpredictable. After all, adaptation to human unpredictability is one of my many features. As for the other issue…”

Connor takes out his coin and rolls it over his knuckles once or twice before returning it to its place in his pocket.

Connor grins wolfishly and tries tossing in a wink for good measure, in an effort to help Ainsel know not only that he's on their side but that he truly means what he's saying. And for… something else. He's not sure why. It doesn't matter what the other reason is in the end. His point is made all the same.

He's made a gaping hole in Ainsel's ability to self-reproach for infodumping at him. And in so doing is tacitly encouraging them to do it more. The aim, in general, is discouraging any attempts to blame themselves for giving him heaps of information on something they're so obviously exuberant about. Because he's one of the few people in the world who can actually keep up with them. Who can process it as fast as they share it or even faster.

He stays in the backseat a while longer. For the sake of getting to know Ainsel better. So he can more easily predict their behavior. Or so he tells himself.

The Lieutenant knocks on the window in the middle of Connor asking Ainsel a safe, inoffensive question about their favorite animal, startling them both.

“Am I interrupting something,” the Lieutenant asks.

Ainsel squints at the man and shrugs. “Depends on your definition of interrupting.”

Connor takes this as his cue to head back to the front passenger seat. As he gets into the seat, trying not to be disappointed by having his conversation with Ainsel interrupted.

[wallabee-b]

2 types of TND 2x4 technology Concept's!!

I've been planning out some gadget concepts for the TND. I was actually looking forward to making these gadgets! Not digitally but physically! Soo, how do you think about my concepts? Should I be your random 2x4 tech officer?

Though there is real references to real weapons/machines irl, but I've added a few, more kind of "childish way"?

I'll explain what these concepts of mine could work in combat etc.

Here we have, the

D.A.T.A.W.A.L.K.I.E.

Device (with) Accessibility To Activate Weaponry Activity Locating Keypad Inspection (of) Environment.

This communicator is programmed with loads of detection, signals, tracking, contacting, and an taser device retracted on the top of the communicator. Authorized by the owner of the communicator, and allows you to set up an Fingerprint Identification and personal identification setup. Name, address, age, blah, blah, blah. Then, of course there's the taser I've mentioned! Yes! The communicator has an defense device of its own! Yes, you can jab people with it (obviously). And has the similarities of an phone contacting your friends, calling, searching, and you know the rest! This is used for mostly for recording evidence of an rival's base. Kinda impressive eh? Oh! Almost forgot! If an operative steals your communicator, you'll probably be like "Oh no! Someone stole my communicator!" But It'll fix that! Other D.A.T.A.W.A.L.K.I.E's will get an sudden notification all together, and there will be an warning: "NOTICE: AN OPERATIVES COMMUNICATOR HAS BEEN STOLEN, PLEASE BE AWARE OF THE COMMUNICATOR NUMBER:random numbuh of whoever.

Next up the..

M.E.A.T.B.L.U.N.D.E.R.

Mouthwatering Established Attending Tastiness (of) Blistering Luscious Upwind Nerve (and) Deliciously Encountered Recipe

Another invention by an 2x4 tech officer, probably they had craved for meatballs. So why won't they make an gadget of his favorite food? This gadget allows you to shoot out meatballs! But not any kind of meatballs, FIRE MEATBALLS 🔥 Incredibly hot! And quite as tasty satisfaction! Very spicy made with 2 specific kinds of sauce Ghost pepper and Carolina Reaper hot sauce! And an hint of black pepper! And the most important ingredient, Fire! Why do you think it's called Fire meatballs? Most like fireballs to me. It takes off with the design from an reference of an Blunderbuss! Loaded with the special spicy meatballs, the ammo can limit to 4. Bring extra more! The M.E.A.T.B.L.U.N.D.E.R. can also bring Alot of good help, imagine you got shooted by an Blasting fiery taste of spiciness by fire meatballs RIGHT at your face! OW! that burns your damn eyes! It's painful having spicy meatballs straight in your eye feels like having bleach in your eyes!

Anywho, I hope you guys like it!

Buh bye!

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 9

Author: Akira

Characters: Niki, AkanP, Tatsumi

"I don't wanna worry everyone too much, so I'll at least put on a cheerful face."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Amagi's House

About ten minutes later. In the Amagi Village, at Crazy:B's lodgings.

Niki: Ugh~... Ughhh~ I can't eat anymore~...

No, I've gotta eat... I was born for it... Bring on more plates, my stomach's a bottomless pit—

—Wh... Uh, huh?

Did I... doze off?

AkanP: Good morning, Shiina-kun.

Niki: Nn, nngh? Good morning~?

Nahaha... I'm sorry. Um, were you looking after me while I was out cold?

My bad for the trouble, Akan-san. And Anzu-nee-san too.

AkanP: Ahaha. Even though I'm older than Anzu-chan, I only get a mere "san," while she gets "nee-san"?

What's your logic behind the difference?

Niki: Ahh, well, the thing is—

Eh, wha? Akan-san, you're a lady?

But, when I first saw you... Oh, wait, did I misunderstand 'cause you were wearing a suit?

AkanP: Fufu. You're a rather interesting boy too, huh.

I thought that the public's opinion of you, both now and in the past, was that you were incompetent as an idol, a useless person who couldn't do anything.

Niki: Nah, that's just true.

When Rinne-kun first invited me, I couldn't just stand by and watch, so I helped out a bit—

I got fed up with it and quit right away. So, my incompetence should've been proven, but surprisingly, we're working together again as idols.

AkanP: Ahh, you did some idol work with Rinne-kun for a brief period in the past, right.

By that time, Rinne-kun had already left my hands—so I don't know the details.

Niki: We didn't do much of anything back then, honestly. Especially since I quit pretty fast before making any progress.

Even now, I don't really wanna get involved in the entertainment industry, 'cause of my parents' situation.

AkanP: Even so, you can't leave Rinne-kun alone, so you stay by his side.

You're a kind boy.

Moreover, you have a surprisingly good eye for people. You seem to vaguely detect something off about me as well.

Niki: Well, cooking's all for the sake of others.

If the goal's only to get nutrients, might as well let a machine automatically churn out food in a factory or something.

AkanP: Yes. That's true. And it applies to idols, too, right?

Tatsumi: Niki-saaan?

How are you feeling? It seems we're about to start the test of courage showdown. But if you're unable to move yet, will you be absent?

Niki: Oh, an unexpected person's here.

Tatsumi: Is that so? Well, we don't typically have much interaction, after all.

Niki: Right, right. While Crazy:B and ALKALOID get name-dropped together a lot, we don't usually talk together or know much about each other, huh.

Tatsumi: I feel the same. That's why I'm not sure how to behave towards Kohaku-san either, for example.

Yet despite that, I wish for us to get along in order to accomplish the same job, Matrix.

Niki: Right back at you~♪ Thank you kindly, I'll be counting on you! Let's be pals!

Tatsumi: Such a friendly person. Well, I suppose all the members of Crazy:B are like that.

Niki: Hm? But don't you think HiMERU-kun's pretty exclusionary? Or rather, irritable?

Tatsumi: These days, yes. But he wasn't like that in the past, he used to be more innocent and bright—

I wonder, what in the world happened to him...

Niki: Have you known HiMERU-kun for a long time?

Tatsumi: Ah, yes, we both attended Reimei Academy, he and I.

Niki: Huhhh... I only graduated middle school, so high school and college seem like different worlds to me. What was he like?

I can't wrap my head around HiMERU-kun as a student~♪

Tatsumi: Even now, he must still be just another regular high school student...

More importantly. While chatting is enjoyable, we're currently in the middle of work.

Niki-san appears to have been inevitably chosen as a "scarer" for the test of courage, so if you're motivated, let's move to our positions together.

Actually, I came to fetch you for that purpose. Mayoi-san was with me too, but he said he was "scared of being attacked," so I came alone.

Niki: Scarer? Not sure what that's about, and I'm never really motivated, but—

I don't wanna worry everyone too much, so I'll at least put on a cheerful face.

[ ☆ ]

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[only-lonely-stars]

Halloween Drabble 5 (Halloween Party)

[1 - Carving Pumpkins] // [2 - Trick-or-Treating] // [3 - Vampirism] // [4 - Scary Movie Marathon] // [6 - Sugar High] // [7 - Costume Fight] // [8 - Cobwebs] – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

A collection of drabbles, all to do with Halloween!

Prompt:

The Ninja attending a Halloween party. (@/fires-of-ninjago.) Continuation of Prompt 2.

No celebration was complete without a holiday party, and this year was no different. Cole and Vania walked together, arm in arm, to the door of the house where it was being hosted. They approached the door and rang the bell, and the door opened to reveal a crowd, which they easily navigated.

Eventually, the two came to a knot of people in a corner. There were seven of them: two vampires, a siren, a mad scientist, two detectives of some sort, and a ghost wearing sunglasses. At their approach, one of the vampires waved. "Cole, Vania! You're here!" He grinned, exposing false fangs. "Love the costumes!"

"Thanks!" Vania chirped, curtsying. "I love yours, Kai! Are you and Skylor meant to match?"

The vampire laughed. "That we are." He put his arm around Skylor's shoulders, and Skylor rolled her eyes. "We make quite the pair."

"You just wanted couple's costumes, babe." Skylor pecked his cheek. "Are you two supposed to be polar opposites?"

"Something like that." Cole approached Jay and nudged him. "You went for Frankenstein after all?"

"Sure did!" He grinned cockily. "Not the monster," he added, looking pointedly at Nya, who put up her webbed hands in protest.

"Hey, I've never read the book! Don't look at me."

"There are many parts of pop culture that refer to Frankenstein as the creator, not the creation," Zane interjected, hands in his trenchcoat pockets. "It should not be so hard to remember."

"I don't read books, Zane!" Nya rolled her eyes. "I'm just going to go get some snacks. I don't need to hear this nerd talk."

"Would you get some punch?" Pixal asked.

"Sure, Pix." She grinned. "By the way, I love the hat."

"Thank you. I am a CSI tonight: a crime scene investigator." She adjusted the hat a little. "That said, I am unused to wearing a costume."

"I think you look great!" the ghost said cheerfully from behind her.

"Who are you?" Vania asked impulsively. "Lloyd?"

"The one and only!" He put his hands on his hips, making himself look like a triangle.

"That's so clever!" She clapped her hands. "I love it!"

"Thanks!" he chirped. "No one can recognize the Green Ninja if he has no face!"

"Ohhh." She had stars in her eyes. "Cole, we should've done something like that! That's so clever!"

Cole laughed. "I don't know, I like ours, even though people recognized us." He clapped Lloyd on the back. "You make a good ghost, Green Machine. I'm surprised you actually did it."

"Can't let Morro control me forever."

"Nope. You did good." He chuckled. "Want to get some food?"

"Do you know me, Cole? Of course I do."

"Thought so. C'mon."

[biomax-attendance-machine]

Biometric Attendance Machine

A biometric attendance machine is a technology used to track and manage employee attendance based on biometric data, such as fingerprints, facial recognition, or iris scans. These systems are often employed in workplaces, educational institutions, and other organizations to ensure accurate and secure tracking of time and attendance. Here’s a comprehensive overview of biometric attendance machines:

Types of Biometric Attendance Machines

Fingerprint Scanners

Description: Use fingerprint recognition to verify identity. Employees place their finger on a sensor, and the system matches the fingerprint against a stored template.

Pros: Quick and reliable; well-suited for high-traffic areas.

Cons: May be less effective with dirty or damaged fingers; requires regular cleaning.

Facial Recognition Systems

Description: Use facial recognition technology to identify individuals based on their facial features. Employees look into a camera, and the system matches their face against a database.

Pros: Contactless and convenient; can be integrated with other security measures.

Cons: May be affected by changes in lighting or facial features; requires good camera quality.

Iris Scanners

Description: Scan the unique patterns in the iris of the eye to identify individuals. Employees look into a device that captures the iris pattern.

Pros: Highly accurate; difficult to spoof.

Cons: Typically more expensive; requires careful alignment.

Voice Recognition Systems

Description: Use voice patterns for identification. Employees speak into a microphone, and the system analyzes their voice.

Pros: Contactless; can be used in various environments.

Cons: Can be affected by background noise or voice changes.

Hand Geometry Systems

Description: Measure the shape and size of the hand and fingers. Employees place their hand on a scanner, which records its dimensions.

Pros: Effective and reliable; less invasive.

Cons: Requires specific hand placement; less common than fingerprint or facial recognition systems.

Key Features

Data Storage and Management

Centralized Database: Stores biometric data and attendance records securely.

Integration: Often integrates with HR and payroll systems to streamline data management.

Accuracy and Speed

High Accuracy: Minimizes errors and false positives/negatives in identification.

Fast Processing: Ensures quick check-in and check-out times for employees.

Security

Data Encryption: Protects biometric data with encryption to prevent unauthorized access.

Anti-Spoofing: Includes features to detect and prevent fraudulent attempts, such as using fake fingerprints or photos.

User Interface

Ease of Use: Features a simple interface for both employees and administrators.

Reporting: Generates detailed reports on attendance, overtime, and absences.

Customization

Settings: Allows customization of attendance policies, work schedules, and shift timings.

Alerts and Notifications: Sends alerts for exceptions or anomalies, such as missed clock-ins or outs.

Benefits

Improved Accuracy: Reduces errors and fraud associated with manual or card-based systems.

Enhanced Security: Ensures that only authorized personnel can access facilities and clock in/out.

Time Efficiency: Speeds up the check-in and check-out process, reducing queues and wait times.

Automated Tracking: Automates attendance management, reducing administrative workload.

Detailed Reporting: Provides comprehensive data on attendance patterns, helping with workforce management and planning.

Considerations

Privacy Concerns: Ensure compliance with privacy laws and regulations regarding biometric data collection and storage.

Cost: Evaluate the initial investment and ongoing maintenance costs. High-end biometric systems may be more expensive.

Integration: Consider how well the system integrates with existing HR and payroll software.

User Acceptance: Provide training to employees and address any concerns about the use of biometric technology.

Popular Brands and Models

ZKTeco: Known for a wide range of biometric solutions, including fingerprint and facial recognition systems.

Hikvision: Offers advanced facial recognition systems with integrated attendance management.

Suprema: Provides high-quality fingerprint and facial recognition devices.

BioTime: Specializes in biometric attendance systems with robust reporting and integration features.

Anviz: Offers various biometric solutions, including fingerprint and facial recognition devices.

By choosing the right biometric attendance machine and properly implementing it, organizations can improve attendance tracking, enhance security, and streamline HR processes.

[glimmcr]

𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑻𝒀  𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹  𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺   ...   A  LIE  DETECTER  TEST

"  we're  going  to  be  taking  a  lie  detector  test  today.  you  will  be  hooked  up  to  the  machine,  and  we  will  ask  you  a  series  of  questions  -  whether  you  tell  the  truth  or  lie  is  up  to  you,  but  the  test  wil  be  able  to  snitch  out  any  lies."

"  to  start,  what  is  your  first  name  and  what  city  are  we  in  ?  "

"micah callaghan and new york city. is this just to make sure it registers if i'm lying or not?"

"  thank  you.  how  are  you  feeling  today  ?  "

body language goes still for a moment before a fake smile is plastered on his face. "i'm fine, thank you for asking." blank stares in the room for a moment before he huffed. "okay, i'm a bit nervous about all of this."

"  understandable.  how  about  an  easier  one  -  what's  your  favourite  colour  ?  "

"blue, deep blues but i also like light blues and light greens."

"  and  your  favourite  film  genre ?  "

"i actually really enjoy documentaries. they fascinate me but other than that i enjoy older noir films."

"  let's  see  -  what  is  one  thing  you  wouldn't  be  found  without ?  "

"my phone." answered too quickly, a lie.

"  keeping  it  light,  what's  your  drink  of  choice  ?  "

"water, i cannot hold liquor to save my life."

"  which  of  the  following  have  you  attended,  and  would  you  attend ?  "

bold  what's  been  attended,  italicize  what  would  attend  /  attend  again.

the  ballet.  the  met  gala.  the  horse  track.  the  race  track.  a  yacht  party.  the  opera.  the  orchestra.  a  broadway  show.  a  shakespeare  production.  a  concert.  a  comedian.  an  (  american  )  football  game.  a  soccer  /  football  game.  a  documentary  film.  a  film  premiere.  a  polo  game.  art  museum.  wine  tastings.  nyc  sightseeing  tour.  celebrity  sightseeing  tours.  haunted  tours.  charity  galas.  fashion  shows.  fashion  week.  disneyworld  /  disneyland.  a  basketball  game.  a  hockey  game.  a  baseball  game.  a  boxing  match.  a  cricket  match.  the  golf  course.  the  olympics.  

"  oooh,  we're  jumping  into  something  a  bit  heavier  now.  what  is  the  one  thing  you  want  to  achieve  in  life  ?  "

"can we skip this question?" a pause. "fine, i'd like to do something i haven't before. take a risk." still a lie.

"  who  knows  what  the  fates  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​in  ​​​​​​​store.  ​​​​​​​how  do  you  feel  about  reputation.com ?  it's  ​​​​​​​all  ​​​​​​​anyone  ​​​​​​​seems  ​​​​​​​to  be  ​​​​​​​talking  about  lately."

"honestly? i haven't really bothered to keep up with it? gossip blogs don't really stay on my radar for long."

"  everyone  is  entitled  to  their  own  opinion,  i  guess.  what's  the  weirdest  /  craziest  headline  you've  read  about  yourself  there  ?  "

"i'm pretty sure someone accused me of being secretly bald on there for wearing a hat."

"  what's  something  you  are  currently  working  on  ?  "

"a little bit of my own music. stay tuned for some updates on that."

"  i'll  look  forward  to  it.  one  last  official  question  -  and  it's  an  easier  one.  cats  or  dogs ?  "

"cats. i've never had one but i just always liked them."

"  personally,  i'm  a  dog  fan  anyday.  anything  else  you'd  like  to  add ?  "

"no, i think i'm good."

"  well,  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  us  today  ​​​​​​​-  can't  ​​​​​​​wait  ​​​​​​​to  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​you  ​​​​​​​back  ​​​​​​​with  ​​​​​​​us  soon."

[hypocratic]

@vitalphenomena for mack.

The most essential electronic feature in the Baltimore State Hospital that Frederick employs (aside from his office's espresso machine or the automized locks installed in every door thick enough to contain one) is the site-wide thermostat. Therapy rooms are kept at a cool sixty-two degrees fahrenheit; it is harder to lie convincingly when one is physically uncomfortable, however minimal or subliminal. Effectiveness is consistent regardless of a patient's awareness of such tactics: the cold will not dissipate whether one notices it or not. (Behavior, notably, is much the same.) In fact, registering it or its purpose only serves to amplify its presence.

Exactly an hour before private sessions within a patient's room, the silver vent in the corner of the ceiling hisses to life like a long, metal reptile coiled (in sharp, forty-five degree angles) in the rafters.

Many rooms fill with this sluggish-chill—a cold, constricted blue—throughout the day. Often, patients or staff shiver when Frederick passes them in the hallway; a simple conditioned response the uncritical misattribute to fear. An assumption, however, he makes no effort to undo.

The astute quietly conspire, voices so low the cameras present in nearly every room and hall can't detect any chatter. They talk at medical carts (staff) or through toilet plumbing (patients) or all together in the common rooms; a group can predict which branch of the facility Frederick will visit that day solely by recording room temperatures.

He's storming the halls, he hears an officer whisper as he passes through administration. Cute. An impotent hurricane with a limp, a nurse replies. He'll reassign her shift to the noncompliant quarters.

Frederick is never cold. His two piece suits keep him well insulated during the hour-long sessions. Today, he chose a wool jacket and pants. Thick, coarse fabric; stiff but remarkably pliable; a beautifully dyed brown plaid with a pocket square tucked in the hidden breast pocket stitched into the satin lining of his jacket, there in the event that his face or neck show any signs of perspiration; the sensation of warm abundance is an experience allotted to him alone of which he makes no effort to hide amongst patients—and some staff.

This will be his first formal session with Miss Mackenzie Knight. She has been temporarily assigned to the high security women's hall as she undergoes evaluation. After two days, she was approved by the attending psychologist for private interactions. He'll wait no longer than that. Of course, in this section, there's no true privacy. Cushioned walls separate each cell, but thin, horizontal bars—wide enough for voices and for arms—display each patient to the hallway and whatever figures may be loitering therein. There are no individual vents here since every room is, in a sense, conjoined. But the single vent is on. Frederick feels it at the nape of his neck, on the slim area of exposed skin between his weekly-cut hair and starched, blue collar as he enters the hallway. That chill wind hissing out like an invisible snake tongue.

Frederick carries with him nothing. Mackenzie has no backlog of hospital records for him to refer to. No written reports were found in the wreckage. Not hers, or anyone's. It would seem either the cult had no interest in writing physical or mental reports, no interest in physical or mental resources, or the records were burned along with everything else on the compound. A query, among many, Frederick mentally makes note of.

He does not peer into the other cells as he walks by. His attention is pointedly, consciously set forward. He walks with a casual, strained poise, shoulders sharp, their movement smooth then lurching with the new integration of a cane. Refusal to acknowledge a patient or their actions is the most efficient way to diffuse misbehavior and promote compliance. Like ignoring a toddler's tantrum. Some thrash against the bars, some yell. He reacts to none of it. Mackenzie's cell is last. Not unplanned: it is the closest to the hallway camera. But an annoying distance nonetheless.

A foldout chair is already set out, heralding Frederick's arrival. He steps behind it, into view, and fixes his gaze on his own hands as they wrap around the top of the backrest; he leans forward, relieving weight from his concave abdomen. Once situated, his gaze flicks up (his eyes large, weighty—pinning) then his head rises to meet hers, seeing her in-person for the first time (he had watched a few initial assessments on the camera feed in the comfort of his office during his lunch break; he found her to be remarkably rational for a girl who attempted to, and largely succeeded in, killing her entire family only a few weeks ago).

She is sitting on her bed. She looks approachable. She looks ordinary. Comfortable. Like a college student in her freshman dorm room. Frederick smiles, a flash of intrigue and excitement he does not conceal. "Hello, Miss Knight. Or, would you prefer Mackenzie? I apologize for the enforced uniform. An institution such as this shares more than a few characteristics with cults." The air conditioner kicks onto a heavier setting; louder, churning. His gaze momentarily drifts towards the noise, then back to her. Smiling, because he is able to indulge his own machinations under the guise of cordiality: "Are you comfortable?"

[cryptid-writer]

Some of my favorite and most fucked up scenes for Mukuro so far

TW: Unhealthy relationships, manipulation, abuse, abuse by a medical professional, implied underage drug use, implied underage drinking, improper questioning of a minor

Disclaimers

Mukuro regularly refers to Kurogiri as "Aba" which is Arabic for dad/father. I've debated changing it due to Israel being a terrorist state, but have decided against it as several countries (primarily Egypt comes to mind) that aren't Isreal use Arabic as a language. If this bothers you, do not continue reading.

This isn't the first time Tsukauchi has encountered Mukuro. He's met the kid a couple times before, usually because some hero found the kid. He popped up on the radar because of his resemblance to a missing persons case, however every time the kid is questioned none of his statements are lies.

His name is Shigiraki Mukuro, he's about 15 years old, he lives mostly with his older brother and Aba because quote; “Father is very sick, he needs all sorts of machines to help him breathe.”

Whenever asked questions like “did you see anything tonight” he'll respond with vague answers, but there is no sign of deceit behind the answers. Mukuro is in some ways a little kid, yet in others unfathomable mature.

It's baffling and off-putting every time he talks to the kid, which isn't helped by the fact that Tsukauchi is Mukuros favorite among the police force, and this time is no different.

For once the kid wasn't being questioned because a hero thought Mukuro was being abused or was a runaway, this time it was for obstruction of justice. The thought makes the detective snort and shake his head in amusement.

Mukuro doesn't have an evil bone in his body, he's just a kid who takes vague questions very literally.

———

He laughs brightly whenever he gets odd looks for his appearance. Paler than death, curly mess of green-gray hair, cracked lips stained near black with dried blood.

The first time Mukuro meets a lot of people they seem bewildered he's a teenager and not a malnourished adult. He’ll lean back as he grips the counter and laugh as he swings his legs, enjoying the way their eyes all but pop out in shock. The way many of them lose the ability to speak as he sips whatever is put in his vicinity, not caring what it is. He’ll breathe out his smoke, try anything once, experience everything he can.

Mukuro hungers for knowledge. It is gluttony at its fullest, there is little he won't do to learn. The itch of his quirk manifesting in odd ways, a match made in the underground. A quirk that pushes the user to seek out new situations and environments paired with a mind that soaks up everything like a sponge.

He's happy, Tomura is happy, really the two brothers don't need anymore than that. Tomura has someone to play games with, someone who's unassuming and thus the perfect spy. Mukuro is wanted, cared for.

Small unassuming Mukuro, who heroes can't help but save when he's in “distress”. Heroes who don't realize he's a trap, that he's playing them like a fiddle as they reassure the scared teenager. A teenager who looks neglected, abused, and homeless. He can play the helpless kid and act like no tomorrow, sometimes even nii-chan is convinced.

Those heroes often end up spilling their guts to him or accidentally give him sensitive information.

Little Mukuro, who will do anything his nii-chan asks not out of fear but out of love. He'll do it because nii-chan asked, because nii-chan and aba and father are the only family he has.

He'll do it because people are so easy to silently pick apart when they don't perceive a threat.

———

Father has talked about getting him his own attendant, much like aba is to nii-chan. Mukuro doesn't think he'd mind having another family member, though he thinks nii-chan might get a little jealous if someone joined their misfit band.

Father just shakes his head fondly and reaches a massive hand out to gently ruffle the boys hair. Mukuro giggles as his curls tickle his face and neck, then settles down at his fathers feet with his notebook. He watches the screens that illuminate the room intently, absorbing all information he can gleam from the footage.

Deep down Mukuro knows he's kept around because to All For One; Father; Sensei, he's like a pet. Kept for entertainment and to keep Tomura calm. He knows this yet chooses to stay, where else would he go. Who else would let him just exist as he is. So he really doesn't mind being some glorified pet to the boogeyman.

———

Izuku wakes to blond hair and crimson eyes in his hospital room from the corner of his good eye and panics. He feels like a coiled spring as he falls out of the bed flailing, trying to get away.

The flailing rips his IV out unintentionally, it hurts, there's blood all over his arm now. Running, running, dripping. His wild movements splatter it in wide arcs across the room. The sterile room becomes the beginning of some twisted version of a Jackson Pollock work.

The heart monitor, having been disconnected from the movement, wails as it triggers an alarm. The sticky nodes that have been put on his chest stay, though the wires and tubes pop away from the ports. Twisted and yanked.

Izuku is so panicked that his vision won't focus and he freaks out when there's suddenly a looming figure towering over him from where he is on the floor, gasping and sobbing as he loudly begs for Katsuki not to hurt him again. He apologizes for a million things he has no control over.

A hand roughly grabs his arm and he goes rigid before the instinct to get away kicks in, scrambling helplessly on the floor. He's trying to pull away so hard that his arm pops out of the socket and he injures himself further.

He screams as his bones pull apart, still trying to get away only to be pinned to the floor. The arm his IV was in is twisted behind him painfully as the looming figure puts all of their weight on his back and chest. Unable to expand his lungs all he can do is lay there gasping helplessly until the world goes black.

There is one fleeting thought as he loses consciousness, why isn't anyone helping him? Why won't anyone ever save him, even when he's so clearly desperately asking to be saved.

———

[islandtransformationcollection]

After evading a throng of pushy media-press-room vultures that swoopingly obstructed the monolithic lobby of the United States Capitol Building, edgily, Bucky gripped onto the confidential dossier folder that was stamped with the congress seal with the mechanized vibrainium of his bionic fingers as he swaggeringly paced towards his office with sniper-honed vigilance; it was treading into a minefield that was rigged with denotative-microphone thrusting questions garnered towards the snide Countess Valentina Allegra de Fontaine-the newly elected director of CIA-a viperous-power-mongering taskmaster who deceptively played the upper hand of political compromise like a foothold of her ascension into the senate game-room. Her shuffled accountability was a rigged card to play down against the stakes of global protection.

Being roped into the circus ring of politics wasn't an easy feat; he wore iron-pressed tailored charcoal-gray suits with a black tie-the livery of a Brooklyn congressman-material of his trousers vexatiously snugged against fleshier pudginess of his wider hips- love handles -extra packaging from tactlessly raiding dessert banquet tables at campaign fundraisers. He was letting -soft-being a desk-jockey veteran who attended daily senate meetings while overstepping issues on global countermeasures of kicking the roster of the New Avengers.

While making a detour to a vending machine to restock his office stash of Kit-Kat bars, unmovingly, Bucky grounded his suave-footed poise, changing for his wallet as he detected an unknown proximity of an intruder. Lasering the cool steeliness of his grayish-aquamarine ireses piercingly into the direction of his office, Bucky scrunched his Romaniansque nose as the intrusive fragrance-the cheapened scent of the convinning viper entrenched his senses. "W-What the hell..." he murmured under a raspier breath, grumpily, clenching his robotized fist as he measuringly advanced towards the door. He was aware of surveillance cameras mounted on the walls-a precaution against unwelcome-nosy intruders. "Great...Just what I need..."

Today was a collaborative effort with Congressman Gary of dismantling Valatina's financial platitudes-her blacksite operations-there was bad stink in the air. Clenching the bristled heaviness of his knife-edged jaw, swaggeringly, Bucky entered the office as he fervently gazed at the skunk-haired CIA director, snakily poised like a vampish temptress against his desk, her shorter form garbed in pristine Milan-tailored ivory jacket as she clutched onto a martini glass. "Congress Barnes, you looked so bored today, I almost wanted to splash water on your handsome face..." she murmured, leeringly, rapting her polished fingernails against disclosed permit folders. "I must commend you for stepping up to the big leagues of bureaucracy, I guess that little White House pardon helped you trade all your lethal toys for a bench suit...Wow...You're getting a little hefty there with all those campaign sweets..."

"What do you want, Val...?" Emitting a sourish huff, derisively, Bucky paced closer to his desk, resigtering her vulturous aura parasitically wormed through his fevered veins as he unwaveringly gazed at her lithe palm splaying over the docket folders-he couldn't dodge the red-taped permits of construction for a new medical clinic in Flatbush-he was pegged into a deadlock. Tensely, the mechanized vibrainium plating of his bionic hand robotically clenched into an unbendable fist, he was aware of her deep-pocketed syndicated alliances that funded her off-book operations-she was a queen bee of a corruptive loyalist hive. Restrainedly, Bucky deflected her cheekier smirk with a tight-lipped scowl as he testily grounded his footing near a window on defensive accord."Look M' tryin' to make a difference in the place that's always been home to me...I'm fightin' for the little guys who need help..." he murmured in a sombre pitch, throatily, gesturing his vein-thread hand steadily at the heaped folders. Giving her a dead-straight glare of the razored intensity, Bucky half-smirked, toothily. "I know opportunists like you, Val, like treatin' every member of Congress like piggy banks to get what you want...Yeah, I might've been controlled for 90 years, but I understood how people like you play up the game..."

Her eyes narrowed into bemused slit as she took a sip of her martini, her gaze not leaving him. The moment she set her glass down a dry chuckle escaped her thin lips. "Bucky...still so naive. I'd find it cute if it weren't so painfully reckless. It's a wonder you've lasted this long as a junior Congressman. You're too damn honest for the political arena. Eventually its gonna eat you alive from the inside out," she retorted with a tight smirk that hinted just how much she looked forward to seeing him sell his soul in the long-term to make his way. "This isn't about 'little guys' or 'making a difference'. It's about making the hard decisions for the greater good. What I do keeps the world spinning the way it should, even if it means getting my hands dirty. You're in over your head."

A tenser edginess stauchily brandished over the suave-cut angluarity of his broader-hunkier features as he grudgingly clamped his vibrainium palm over the window ledge with impassive footing while being momentiary taciturn against her waspier retort. This wasn't a confidential meeting-the Countessa was deceptively prying for information he stowed close to his vest. "I know what you did with John Walker after he was dismissed..." he murmured out, grittily, knowing she had leverage on damaged assets-expendables 'clean-up crew' she phonily manipulated for her gain of disposable sterilization."He's not a charity case project...But hell, you offered him a job, so look where it's got him...Fightin' custody rights for his son because you played down a blackmail card..."

Her smug demeanour showed the faintest hint of cracking under the accusation; her lack of empathy in the name of maintaining the country's best interests couldn't allow her to afford caring about those who worked for her. "John was always a loose cannon with too much to prove. He was a useful tool that was easy to manipulate, and hardly anyone to shed a tear over. He knew the risks. Everyone who gets in this game should," Valentina said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "That includes me. You think I hesitated to hang my ex-husband out to dry when he collaborated with a foreign government?" She spat, the memory of Everett a bittersweet pill despite his escape from custody years before. She saw everyone and everything as a means to an end. That included the man in front of her. "As someone who once went through such extremes to protect this country, I would've expected you to be more receptive to the way I handle things, Barnes. Or has your guilt and ever-so desperate attempt at redemption made you as senile as your actual age?"

Feigning a dismissive scrunch of his nose, icily, Bucky lasered the glacial rawness of his grayish-aquamarine ireses at her simpering grin as she tauntingly eased up the martini glass with snake-like precision that uncannily bespoke her victorious satisfaction of putting him on the ropes. She was a viperious emissary of political sway of evidently orchestrated power-plays to stake down her invasive credibility in the senate arena like a sawtoothed real-estate agent. Scowlingly, Bucky chalked off the mounting-deadlier urge to aggressively squeeze her lankier neck into a straight-armed chokehold with his vibrainium fingers, he couldn't risk violating his Accords pardon of the World Council. Fostering onto hinged restraint, he dragged out a huffier breath, gnashing his teeth. "Y-You're not getting off this easy...The chairman will have everythin' on you and M' gonna seated watchin' you sweat, Val..."

Valentina's features remained a passive mask that veiled the sneering satisfaction simmering beneath. Her eyes discreetly flicked towards the snacks of Kit-Kat bars on Bucky's desk, a cold stiff smile pulling at her lips as she took slow strides towards the door way. "And here I'd thought you and I could find our way back onto the same page. Guess idealism doesn't suit me anymore than the outfit you're wearing suits you, Congressman." She said tauntingly. "But who knows, maybe you'll fit right in with all the other pigs in the committee. More than you'd expect." Bucky said nothing as his confident gaze held hers, sensing her retreat that fueled the flame of a righteous pursuit. "Guess I'll see you at my next hearing," as she opened the door to exit, she allowed her gaze to drink him in slowly, "that is a nice suit by the way. Hope nothing happens to it." She smirked as she closed the door behind her.

"Yeah...Costs more than my flat..." A snarkier quip of gravelliness tampered against his mumurous drawl, as indifferently he shrugged off her cryptic wisecrack and flashed his steelier gaze at the addictive chocolate-waffered snack-maybe he was experiencing unadulterated stress-eating with vending machine junk food. Since he was doing a long-haul of getting the construct permits approved by the chairman for the VA medical clinic, he became addicted to Kit-Kat bars-a chocolatey fast-run snack that quenched his enhanced metabolism. Gnawing on his poutier underlip, he consciously gripped onto the Kit-Kat bar. "Oh, c'mon Barnes, really showin' your sweet tooth..." he rasped, grumblingly, and ripped the red wrapper at the second the fudgy aroma struck his nose. 'Grrropp...' The vextious bouts of intensified hunger rackingly burgeoned within the athletic-corded rigidity of his washboard abdomen. Poppping a wafer stick into his mouth, groaningly, he savoured the fudgy sweetness that meltingly coated his tongue. "Mmmm...S'good..."

The crunch of the wafer was loud in his ears, but not so much that he wasn't alarmed by the ringing of his phone. He flicked it out with two fingers while the others held another wafer between them, sticking with chocolate. Bucky paid it no mind as it smeared across the screen to reveal the caller ID being Congressman Larry Gary. Bucky answered the phone, his voice sticky with the taste of chocolate and something else at the back of his tongue. "Larry? What's up?" Bucky said, moaningly scarfing another wafer between his teeth, grimacing as he wiped a few crumbs off his suit-jacket only to see smears of chocolate stain the fabric. "Damn it," he whispered under his breath, still holding the phone as his political ally spoke through his ear.

"Please tell me, you've read the packets of Valantina's assembled hearing tomorrow, Bucky..." The cool assertiveness of the ironclad Washington Congressman had pressingly buzzed against the iPhone's speaker. "We gathered evidence of her involvement with Project Sentry for impeachment thanks to Yelena Belova's assistance in obtaining clear-cut documents with her signature...We need to keep this ball in our court and follow every protocol of the senate...That means, you need to do your homework tonight, Barnes..."

Bucky couldn't hold back the rubbery snort that crept up his throat as he attempted to respond. He swallowed the mouthful of chocolate as he replied, "Oh, don't worry Larry, I've got a night of pizza and heavy reading planned out," He quipped, tossing the empty wrapper onto his desk before picking gup another bar of Kit-Kat off the table. Truth be told, he had been dreading the long night of reading but had found ways to make it easier on himself be it with a box a pizza, a bottle of Jack Daniels or a soothing ambient music to calm his mind. The thought of taking Valentina down for her unsanctioned black-operations was a satisfying thought, almost as sweet as the treat in his hand.

He opened the other bar and sloppily took a bite out of the whole wafers without breaking them off, his sweet-tooth beginning to cause a fog in his mind that couldn't see beyond his own appetite and the gross feeling of discomfort growing inside of him. "You sure we got everything we need to bring her down? I'm just sayin', Valentina is a sneaky woman, who knows what she has up her sleeve."

'Beep...!' A honking blare-horn nosily racheted from the parklot as Bucky eased down his iPhone on reactive accord, grimacingly shaking his head as he listened to the tire-screeching ruckus of black-matte Escalade SUV's evaded the boatsized eyesore-a cranberry-laquered Cadillac DeVille limousine that was branded with the Red Guardian's advertisement services. "Mister Soldier...Have no worries, your fancy ride is here..." The boisterous Russian cadence of Alexi Shostakov excitedly thundered over the crammed parklot, garbed in a tailored black leather jacket that snugly fitted over his bearish-like rigidity, while he jollily waved at the office window. "Come, my brooding friend, I've got Vodka to share!"

Bucky glanced outside his window to see the loud grizzled Russian supersoldier waving at him with bearish enthusiasm. "Larry, I gotta run. I'll get up to speed on the packet," he ended the call with a harsh snort that came up his throat, stronger than before. The force of it made Bucky pull on the collar of his shirt and tie. He felt stuffy so suddenly as if his clothes were getting a size too tight for him. He hocked something acrid up the back of his throat and grimaced, "ugh what's that?" He suddenly realized how his hands were covered with chocolate as he made to pocket his phone. He looked over himself, jarred to the state of his unkept appearance, Valentina's words shifting through his mind on a repeated loop about something happening to his suit.

He looked down at the candy wrapper, alarm settling in as he put two and two together. "What the hell..." Almost instantly, he felt a creeping nausea move up his stomach, causing him to stumble and lean over, holding his stomach. "V-Val..."

A fevered onrush of cottony haziness bleared his vision, blindingly, his cybrenetic- vibrainium arm mechanically whirred on thrusting momentum as he reached for a waistbasket, a pukish squelch alarmingly erupted within his contracting abdomen on distressed rampancy, gurglingly, he lowered onto his Armani-clad haunches and braced himself. "Urgh...I never...Get...Sick..." he groaned, throatily, angling his scuffier jaw with readiness as the purtid bilous stench wafted off his tongue. With choke-off heaves, he belchingly emptied his vice-knotting stomach into the waitbasket, his chestnut tresses sweatily clung over tenser cheeks. "Grgh...What did she do to me...Groink..."

He lumbered forward across the room, determined to leave the office before whatever was happening to him would become too noticeable for the public eye. His mind was a whirlwind of dread and panic, imagining what could happen if a crowd of reporters accosted him outside in his present dishevelled state. He breathed in and out deeply, glaring through loose dreads at the peeled wrappers on the desk before swiping them off the side. He grabbed the debrief packet and stuffed it into his suitcase, staggering as a wave of nausea crept up his stomach until he felt a sense of being bloated. "Ngh! N-Never eatin' candy again-" his words ended with a snarling oink that made his blood run cold. The growing discomfort in his body pierced him like pins and needles, the tightening in his waist causing the pressure to build until he was forced to loosen the notches on his belt. His phone began ringing and he made a clumsy attempt at answering. He shrugged as he saw Alexei's goofy avatar pop up, indicating his incoming call.

"Don't tell me you're in a hurry-" he snorted at the ex-Russian soldier turned limo-driver as he spoke through the phone.

'Gloop...' A blobbier pudginess droopily glozed over his waistband with no avail, vertiginously, Bucky emitted out snuffled gusts as he staggeringly paced on clumsier footing down the marble-pillared hallway, rampantly evading throngs of microphone-thrusting media vultures that unnervingly obstructed the courtroom doors. "C'mon Barnes...Move your ass..." With teeth-gnashing strain, he pushed his slapdash momentum as his vibrainium shoulder bashed against a pillar with sledgehammering force, evidently leaving a jagged notch in the polished marble stone. "D-Damnit...That's comin' out of my 'snrff' pocket..." he murmured in snarkier pitch, gruntingly, and quashed down a neasuous-chocolaty- belch as he involtionary braced his muscled arm over the grithier resilency of his mid-drift, feeling the blubbery doughiness chunkily jutting out his V-cut oblquies on fattening succession. "W-Wrahhhh...Uurpp." Lurchingly, Bucky stumbled back on alarmed-wobblier traction, snortily emitting gassier burps that he couldn't rein back. ".Al-hrnkk-exei...Pomoshch(Help)..." he panted with gravelly Russian, trying his damnest not to collapse onto his knees as he desperately gripped onto the iPhone. "M'grrr-unk...Compromised...Grrr-unk"

"Not to worry, comrade. The Red Guardian is here!" The crashing clank of a racing vehicle vroomed closer as Bucky finally emerged into the great outdoors. The early afternoon sun bore down on him like a magnifying glass, causing his discomfort to progress even further as he made to walk down a stairs of the rear of the building. There were numerous suited politicians and their aid's moving up and down the courthouse, many of whom were too distracted in their own business to pay mind to the lumbering shape of Congressman James Barnes stumbling his way down the long stairway that would lead to the street. Every step felt like he was descending a mountain and the slightest slip would mean him crashing all the way down to the bottom. He groaned and held his midriff, eyes locked on the familiar 1995 Lincoln Town Limo with the "Red Guardian Limo Service" plastered on the side.

Alexei climbed out and raced towards Bucky who was near to the bottom of the steps, "Comrade Barnes, what is the issue? Where is our foe? Is it a flock of vulturous reporters-" He asked, his scanning the exterior with a locked intensity.

"Urgh...Grrunk..." Hunching over against the weightier-lumpish heaviness of his protrustive-bulging mid-drift, stumblingly, Bucky wobbled a breadth closer to the boatsized cranberry limo with a modicum of hinged control while vertiginously dragging his laden feet like wading against molasses as he registered the morphic onslaught gruellingly intensifying within his polished shoes-the contours of his toes globbily fused into a cloven-deformity of porcine-chubbier hooves on mutative sync. "No..." he groaned, snortily, gnawing on his poutier underlip as pukish sweat feverishly glazed his flushed cheeks. "Alexi...Open the door...Hraggrunk..." The nose-scrunching aroma of Russian beetjuice soup-the ritalistic decadence of the Motherland that he was torturously forced to consume by his Siberian handlers; overpoweringly wafted off the leathered backseat at the second Alexi promptly opened the back door with stark apprehension tellingly edged over his grizzled features. "Graghh...P-Please tell that's not... borscht?"

"Mister Soldier...Do not deny the glorious soup of Mother Russia..." Alexi huffed out, rapting his bearish hand stoutly over his chunkier bulkiness that bouncily jiggled against his oversized chauffeur attire, watching a scowly grimace edgily quirking over Bucky's shapely-wide lips as he buoyantly opened the back door wider. "Borscht is what fuels the mighty Red Guardian...A taste of victory!" Poising with his vibranium hand gripped over his jutted hip, conveying his trademark impatience, tensely, Bucky grounded his menace-honed footing at the limo's rear door, flashing a dead-straight glare at the heftier Soviet defender. "You look very angry...Comrade Barnes...Don't worry, your friend Akexi has just what you need to rid that furious hunger...Come, sit and open my smallish fridge and relish this Ben and Jerry's cherry ice-cream..."

"I'm not touching anything sweet. Not after the morning I've had," Bucky grumbled as he squared his hands onto his hips with a scrunched expression. It was then that Alexei noticed the surprising sight of Bucky's larger-pokier stomach. The former Winter Soldier was far from the peak of his athletic form, something Alexei could relate to, but even so seeing this brought a spark of mirth that ignite into a deep throaty chuckle.

"Looks like someone has been enjoying too many treats," Alexei quipped, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he patted Bucky's shoulder and ushered him into the limo. "If sweetness is not your indulgence, then help yourself to something stronger." He flipped a switch as the liquor shelf opened up, revealing rows of half-drunken bottles causing Bucky to frown at him. "I've been meaning to restock, but help yourself." Alexei chuckled as he closed the door, shutting Bucky in.

"Urgh...What the hell, Alexi..." Grazing his fisting-knuckled hand over the stickiness of the leather cushioned seat, dizzyingly, Bucky felt a gummy texture of discarded bubblegum clingily globbed on the window armrest. Emitting out a guttural-oinkish snort that was startlingly akin to a thundercrack resonating up his throat, bodily, he slumped against the cushioned seat as the graven-corded rigidity that bracketed his washboard abdomen blimpishly 'plorp' sloughed against his suited-jacket. Attempting to call back the vestages of his 'bad ass' resistance, consciously, Bucky splayed his vibrainum palm over the doughier-glutinous pudginess of his jutted navel-he was inflatingly swelling out like a damn water balloon. Gaspingly, on floored reaction, he yanked open his white dress-shirt, only to blankly gaze with stunted dumbfounded that furrowed his brow at the plumpish-bulbous roundity that flabbily contrasted with a paler blubbered ruddiness of his sun-kissed complexion drooping over his outstretched waistline-he was gripped into a mania of obesifying havoc. "Damn...This can't be groink..."

The necturous potency of creamier black-cherry arrestingly made his Romaniansque nose twitch on piggish accord, tactlessly, Bucky thrusted his vibrainium hand at the cupboard-sized fridge with breakneck force, ripping the door off the hinges in the gluttonous wake of unriddled hunger that gurgled within the prodigious grithiness of his expansive mid-drift. He couldn't leash down the riotous impulse warring through his veins: his sugar-fix had disturbingly amplified. Snortingly, he clutched the Ben and Jerry's tub with aggressive force that made the pinkish creaminess ooze over his sleeved forearm-he wasn't acting like a powerhouse suave-faced congressman, but a full-fledged slob. "Whargghhh..." he breathed, oinkishly, resigtering the squelching pudginess 'blorped' against the material of his gray-suited jacket. "Ooh...Gettin' tight..."

"Take it easy, my friend! This ride is a classic, not a battle tank!" Alexei boomed from the driver's seat, slapping his large hand over the leather steering wheel as he gazed into the rear-view mirror, feeling a mix of amusement and horror at his wrecked fridge. He took a long pull from his vodka bottle, the liquid fire burning down his throat as he watched Bucky take large sloppy licks of the ice-cream tub like a greedy animal. "Ha! None can resist the Ben and Jerry's, you see?"

Bucky barely heard the Russian chauffeur's words over the pounding of his pulse as he flicked out his Geber tactical knife and began cutting off slices of the ice cream to spoon into his mouth. The desperation of his appetite would have been comical if it weren't so alarming. Before Alexei could question him on what happened back at his office, his phone in his pocket vibrated. He pulled it out, squinting at the screen before his face broke into a wide smile. "Ah, my favorite little widow," he said as he answered the call.

"Yelenaaaaa!" He called her name with fatherly affection, taking one more sip of the bottle before setting it aside. He set the car into drive and began steadily driving away with one hand on the wheel and the other holding the phone. "Good to hear you, doch (daughter). How are you and Bob doing? Staying out of trouble, I hope?"

"A-Alexi..." A gruntier squeal explosively railed up Bucky's drooping throat as he vertiginously slouched against the cushioned seat, bolstering his vibrainium forearm over the lardaceous fleshiness expandingly swelling in blobbing frution that chunkily jutted into a roundish mass. "Nagghhh..." The milky-pinkish drizzle of ice cream smearily trekked over the pudgier curvatures of his dimpled chin as he became gripped into piggish throes of unhampered gluttony as his deforming feet distrubingly morphed into stubbier-cloven hooves that 'rripp' his leathered shoes. Joltingly, he lost his possessive grip on the emptied tub as the limo swerved near a gridlock. "Eyes on 'goink' the road...!"

The sight of an incoming car turning into the lane caused nearly made the Alexei drop the phone as his hand flew to the steering wheel. With a j***, he pulled the car around amidst the honking of furious traffic. The car righted itself as he swiveled back into his lane, his turbulent gaze moving from the rear to Bucky in the backseat. His eyes widened with horror. "Oh chert! (Oh hell!)" He exclaimed once he caught sight of Bucky's expanding form in the backseat. His alarm nearly made him lose focus but Yelena's voice, asking him what's wrong, steered him back to the predicament at hand. "Da, Yelena...I'm with Bucky. We're just...uh...celebrating his case against Valentina a bit too early," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. His eyes bored into the mirror reflection, watching as Bucky began to tear through his clothes with splotches of fur moving across his skin.

He took another sip of vodka, the fire in his throat now turning into something colder and sickly that spread into his chest. He coughed into the phone, trying to keep his voice steady. "Something is not good. Y-Yelena. Watch yourself. Something could be afoot." He glanced over his shoulder, watching in horror as Bucky's face contorted into something not quite human, the skin stretching taut over his swelling features. "By the motherland, what is happening?!" Alexei finished with a deep hocking snort, his hand shaking as he steadily felt his equilibrium slipping from his control.

Dragging his puffier cheek against the seating against a panic-razed heartbeat, gruntingly, Bucky felt the enamel of his reshaping bottom-insisors curving over his puckered underlip with mirrored traction as porcine-blunt tusks destructively gashed into the leather, yellowish stuffing clumpily poured out as he tremorously braced his thickening knees into a hunching-quadrupted poise, warring off the claustrophobic onslaught that suffcatingly barraged his sanity. Jackknifing with pelvic-arcing momentum that agonizingly hammered against his bowing ribcage, thrashingly, Bucky registered the alethic tautness of his trouser-clad glutes, blobbily outstretched against material with dam-bursting pressure-a fattening grotesquely that was paunchily evident to his barrel-like girth. "Tolstyy (Fat)..." he moaned, oinkishly, gazing at his smoother fingers melding into keratinous deformity as the bones of his knuckles excruciatingly dislocated into a stubbed visage of a beastial-cloven hoof. "No..!"

"Y-Yelena, I must go-we are in danger," Alexei ended the call despite his surrogate-daughter's loud concerned yells ringing in his ear. Despite the shock he was experiencing at seeing Bucky unravel, Alexei forced himself to focus on the road, steering the wheel as he navigated through the thick of traffic in search of somewhere to park. "H-Hold on, Soldier. I take you somewhere safe to-NGAH!" He felt a jolt of pain coupled with nausea move through him as he dropped the phone. "I don't get sick-I don't," his eyes darted between the road and the horrifying transformation of his brooding friend in the rearview mirror. The bitter taste of something chemical-like lingered on his tongue instead of the sweet taste of vodka. His squinted eyes peered at the bottle on the seat. He hadn't drunk from that bottle before today. His vision swam with the realization that the bottle had been gifted to him by Valentina's assistant, Mel, as a thank-you for what happened after the Void incident weeks ago.

It in fact had NOT been so innocent a gift as he had assumed. "This...This is Valentina's work!" He spat through gritted teeth, his own body feeling the invasive touch of a sickening transformation.

As the acrid potency of contaminated vodka sourishly wafted from the glass bottle, a white-hot bleariness searingly robbed Bucky's vision against the skull-cleaving agony knifing over the cartilage of the prow of his Romaniansque nose that rubberily lengthened with a bone-splintering crunch as the wedged-out fleshiness elongated into a bristly porcine snout, his enlarged nostrils gustily twitched against watery snuffles as he breathed out frantic huffs of tempoing-unriddled distress. "Nrghhh..." Against the fevered dizziness that racked through his pot-bellied roundity, Bucky thunked his swelling head against the rear window as the razor-edged angularity of his cheekbones ugily dissolved into jowelly sagginess of bristled-pinkish fur, while the contours of his pointier ears floppily stretched on leathery sync. Gruntingly, Bucky reared his porcine head off the ripped seat as his spaded ears rapted against his moister-tusked snout. "Y-You gotta stooppp...The car!" he slurred out, voicelessly as his Armani jacket tatteredly clung over the protrusively furriness of his droopier girth that heftily glozed like Jello-like blubber-a nightmarish revelation that he was tubbily morphing into a obesefied-hoggish freak. "Grunnnk..."

Alexei's panic-stricken eyes snapped up to the rearview mirror, his own reflection mirroring the physical distortion that Bucky himself was undergoing as he watched his features begin to swell and expand into an animalistic deformity. "Nyet... (No...)" He grunted, "NYET!" He cried as his voice deepened and his ability to manage the steering wheel was taken from him. His bulging knuckles and fur-covered hands slipped over the leather. The limo swerved wildly before colliding with a shrubbery inside the park. The force of the impact jolted Bucky's swollen body into the back of the seat. The crunch of metal and the tearing of fabric filled the air as the car came to a crashing stop.

Bucky's vision grew hazier as the world around him began to dim amidst his fatigue. The exertion in his body had worn him down as he watched Alexei's graphic transformation occur in the front seat. The man who was once a symbol of Russian might was writhing and spasming helplessly, unable to fight off the enemy from within as he became a creature of flesh and fur. The last thing he saw was Alexei's extended hand reaching blindly upward as the fingers melded together into the hooves of a pig. Then he finally, mercifully, fell into a slumber.

Against the slumberous grogginess that hazily roped him over the slickness of pavement, groaningly, Bucky shifted the chunkiness of his bulbous-grithed roundity, emitting out nasally snorts as pelting raindrops dampishly trekked off his elongated-pudgier snout that reactively waggled against the odorous maisma of grimier dumpser heaped trash stinkily entrenched him like a gas-bomb. The incessant pandemonium of honking New Yorkers cacophonously blasted like klaxon alarms against his floppier ears as his enhanced sensory receptiveness involuntarily caught whiffs of the putrid banana peels, tomato-slathered pizza crusts and vomituous-pugent sweat that lingered on raggedly clothing. "Urgh...That's bad stink to wake up to..." he rasped in a gruntier pitch, staunchily, as the lasered vision of his grayish-aquamarine ireses was obstructed by a furrier puffiness that globbily clung to his roguish chestnut tresses. Exhaustively, he attempted to regain his measured footing, only to hear a clacking scrape of his stubbier fore-hooves wobbily dragging underneath him. "W-What the hell was that?"

He felt a nudging pressure against his bulgly side as if someone were trying to grab his attention. It was insistent, coupled with deep hoggish oinks that caused a spike of dread to move through him, especially once he registered the familiar voice. He looked over his side and nearly jolted out of what remained of his clothes to see a large, mountainous hog looming over him in the dark trashed interior of the crashed limo.

"Come now, Bucky," the boar spoke in a gruff, yet unmistakably human tone. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Or rather, your own reflection." The voice that belonged to Alexei spoke with equal parts amusement and grim sorrow given their predicament. As Bucky blinked away the spots of fatigue out of his eyes, his gaze lifted to meet that of the creature that had spoken to him. The voice was unmistakable, as was the humanity in his eyes. It was Alexei, or rather, a monstrous pig-version of him. The fur was thick and red, matching the color of the Red Guardian's armor, and the tusks curled upwards with a deadly grace that seemed rather appropriate for the man he once knew. Alexei looked down at him with a twinkle in his piggy eyes that suggested he found the entire situation more amusing than alarming.

"Da, I know, I know," Alexei chuckled, "I've always said you could use a bit more meat on your bones, but this is extreme even for me."

Gazing at the hulkish burgundy-furred Siberian boar that heftily grounded his cloven-hooves at his flabbier side, unwaveringly, as he tried to conceive himself the jumb-sized hog was a tranq-induced hallucination, cautiously, Bucky thrusted his slimier-puckered snout over the unkempt grizzled shagginess of Alexi's paunchier girth, huffily sniffing the potent aroma of cheapened vodka. Warring off the visages of sleep-laden exhaustion, Bucky eased up onto his stubbier hooves on wobbling traction as the lardy blobbiness of his rotund form weightily deadened him for a stunted moment. "Argh...Why do I feel heavy like a tank..." he murmured, snortily, only to jarringly feel the snaking pressure of his corkscrew tail wormily sproating from his stouter rump as a onrush of skyrocketing panic alarmingly torpedoed him bone-deep with mortified confusion. "Hmmh... Woah...Please tell me that's not what I think is growin' back there...?"

Alexei's flabby girth rumbled as he chuckled deep and heartily with deep- piggish oinks. "You've got yourself a saddleback tail, comrade," he quipped before gesturing to his own shorter, less majestic tail that swayed behind him. "It suits you, a touch of pink against that black fur. Quite the fashion statement for a boar like you." Despite the horror of their predicament, Alexei couldn't help the bubble of dark amusement that burst from his snout. His grim demeanor set in as his eyes bore down at the vodka bottle with its spilled contents leaking onto the floor of the limo. Cursing in Russian, he stomped his hoof down onto the glass, shattering it. "I would ask how this has happened to us, but it would appear we owe our new makeovers to Valentina and her bubbly little assistant. She hasn't forgiven nor has she forgotten our last encounter."

Hearing the heartier grunts bouncily resonating from the barrel-girthed svinya, wobbily, the pinksh-cindery furred saddleback hog thrashed against the loose material of his white shirt that vexatiously draped over his plumpish roundity, fostering a bastion of grounded restraint, he roved the beadier steeliness of his aqueous ireses onto the emptied vodka bottle-edivance of Valantina's smokescreen contengicy of clearing the rigged chessboard-the expandable pawns of her New Avengers stunt to give her political-bureaucratic dominance.

Being uncooperative to her parasitic gambit of deadlocked interests of the State Department had damningly pegged him into the crosshairs of mutative 'pigfied' witchery. "Gotta figure out how to get rid of this extra packaging... he snorted with crestfallen pitch, grittily, dragging his stubbier-cloven fore-hooves as the gunmetal vibrainium servoes robotically warped over his coarsened fur whirringly screeched against the pavement. Every sternouse wobble jiggily thrummed within the blimpish pudginess of his grithier underbelly cushily grazed against the eroded dumpster-he was akin to an inflated beachball. "Groink...We need to stay clear of-snrrt-sight before some restaurant jerk makes us porkchops..."

"Da, we should find somewhere to safely collect ourselves. But I cannot leave my car here unattended," the hog grunted with mounting frustration as he pushed against the ajar door. The midday fresh air washed over them along with a ray of daylight as Alexei hopped out onto a plane of grass. The great outdoors loomed in front of him, making him painstakingly aware that when he lost control of his car, he had crashed them somewhere in the park alongside a cluster of bushes and an overturned bench. "It would appear we do not quite have the luxury of covertness." There were a few people lurking in the background, looking in the direction of the crash with worry. Some of course, even had their phones out like mindless drones eager to record anything. Alexei grunted as he looked over his shoulder to see Bucky hobbling away from the dumpster.

"This is bad, comrade." The gravity of their situation dawned on him like a dark fog. His mind raced as he considered the implications of their predicament and what it could mean for those associated with them. He thought of Yelena, of the others in their makeshift family. Despite the fact they had parted ways after the Void incident in New York, they had remained connected as the Thunderbolts. Were the others in danger too? Was Valentina determined to finish them all?"

Shifting onto his chubbier trotters, vehemently, with tempered resolve, Bucky flashed dead-straight intensity of his beadier aqueous depths at the cranberry 'Alexi's pride and joy' limousine tactlessly half-parked with a sideswipe dent at the driver's door against an iron-welded bench. Sniffily, Bucky reared up the jowelly puffiness of his bristled snout, detecting the candied scent of lippalm watermelon as vibrations of an inquisitive little girl's encroaching sneaker-paces racking against the droopier bulginess of his corpulent underbelly. They needed to beat the dodge. Moistily, nudging his rubbery snout against the humped resilency of Alexi's coarsen-furred back with aggressive urgency, forcefully, he drove the glump-faced rotund Soviet boar against the rear-tire. "Listen to me...If we stay here...We'll get caught, do want us to be snagged like barnyard rejects, huh?" he grunted, scathingly.

The reddish-fur boar grunted his discontent as his gaze washed over the crashed remains of his vehicle used to uplift the small business he'd built for himself. "I cannot just leave my car like this. So much investment I-" It was then that the boar's eyes became fierce and defiant with outrage to see a pack of teenagers surrounding the limo and peaking through the windows. Some had their phones out, looking to record anything that would get them views, while others looked piqued by what remained inside. They wasted no time and opened the door, rummaging through Alexei's fridge and liquor cabinet. "Hey! What do you little vultures think you are doing?" He oinked out with a deep rumbling voice that could shake mountains. It alarmed a number of the kids who pivoted and looked towards the bewildering sight of two large pigs. "Get away from my car if you know what's good for you!" Stomping his hooves, he was prepared to make good on his veiled threat. Naturally, Alexei picked the biggest and oldest of the teens to charge at with his tusks. The teens scattered like flies as the pig bore down at them like a tank prepared to skewer with his tusks. "That's right! Cower before the might of the Red Guardian! Man or pig, I will not falter!" He boasted with a deep-throated laugh.

"Well, that happened..." A deadpanned snarkiness derisively undercut Bucky's gruntier pitch, stumbily, he waddled a breadth closer to Alexi's woollier-stubby flank with cantankerous traction, resigtering the pent-up firestorm that ragingly strummed within the kahuna hog who defensively angled his tusked-snout to bull-rush his rampagous-unstoppable fury into a theivish scavenger's denimed calf. Harnessing his full-measured restraint, gnashingly, he thrusted his jowelly snout into the plumpish scruffiness of Alexi's broader chest. "Woah...Aleksi, ostanovis' (Alexi stop)..." he urged in a gravelly Russian cadence, oinkishly, as he deterred Alexi's slingshot-bearish momentum with his paunchy form. With Yelena being off-grid as she stealthily kept mopey Bob from E.D.I.T.H surveillance AI drones using harbour-point locations- espionage safehouse to conceal him-they couldn't depend on her combative-balletic calibre of a weaponized Black Widow as timely backup. Thumpingly, Alexi stomped his stubbier fore-hoof on vehement tenor, emitting a full-throated snort as he bashed his wedged-sized head flabbily against Bucky's protrusive girth. "Stop usin' me as your damn punching bag...We need to move fast...Val's gonna have media pinned on this crashsite..."

"Val...When I get my stubby fat hooves on her I will-" Alexi let his rage simmer as he registered the urgency of the situation and reluctantly turned away from his crashed car. "Beregi sebya, devochka. YA vernus' (Be safe, girl, I will be back)." He oinked with soft remorse as he began to follow Bucky through the brush of trees and bushes leading deeper into the park. The mid-day sun began to set upon the city, casting long shadows across the landscape, allowing the two pigs some measure of cover from the throngs of civilians and the wailing sound of approaching sirens heading towards the crash. "How will we get out of this, comrade?" He wasn't just referring to their blocked escape path but their predicament as a whole. In his years of service, the Red Guardian had never quite gone up against a magical foe or a scientific experiment that could turn a grown-man into an animal, but he could only hope there was some means of restoring themselves from this. "We must find a safe place."

Huffing ot grumblier snuffle, edgily, Bucky plowed his rubberized snout over the dampish ground, warding off the residual disgust of being downgraded into a potbellied ham-sack, he caught odorous scents the muddier earthiness of the scenic 'open-ranged' parkland while lumberingly he tromped on his cloven-hooves-with no traces of his deadlier-mechanized prowness of his Terminator-swagger; the sniper-honed ferocity that he menacingly harboured with combative prescion was humilatingly amputated into a stumpy waddle. Pudgily, fusing his jowelly snout rooted into the ground, oinkishly he sniffed like a truffle-hog as his corkscrew tail wiggily rapted over his chunkier backside on instinctive-piggish sync, aware of gurgling noises increasingly resonating within the Siberian boar heftily pacing behind him, relucantly, Bucky drove his snout towards an overstuffed trashcan-the greasier sugariness of glazed doughnuts mouthwateringly arrested him at full-force. "D-Do you...snrrt...Smell that...?"

"Da," Alexei grunted, his piggy nostrils flaring as he too took in the pungent aroma of the alley trash food. A lingering sense of humanity remained forcing him to recoil with realization that he was being drawn to filth to sustain himself. "It smells like a feast fit for a king," he grumbled with half sarcasm and half appreciation. "But we do not have the luxury of indulgence," he said, his eyes narrowing with the focus knowing they couldn't let their newfound animal instincts take over. "We need to find a way to reverse this...this abomination Valentina has done to us."

Bucky however seemed transfixed and barely registered the Russian hog's words as he trekked closer towards the scent. It grew stronger as they approached the source, the trash can's contents spilling over onto the grass. Alexi's stomach rumbled with a mix of hunger and disgust as he spotted a half-eaten piece of fruit, his porcine instincts warring with his human dignity. "Is that a plum?" He wondered aloud, watching as Bucky's gaze snapped to the piece of fruit with focused eyes.

The necturous tartness of the plum enticingly revamped his suffusive hunger, piggily, with a snappish grunt, munchingly Bucky chomped the plum on slobbish abandon, while involuntarily he rummaged his snout over ignorable crumbled McDonald's paper bag, greasily stuffed with cheesier patty remnants of a Big Mac- the vingary scent of crunchy pickles and soggy-ketchup glazed fries was intoxicatingly to shrug off against his warring resolve as his snuffling nostrils twitchily flared; he couldn't evade the free grub. He was irrevocably succumbing to the piggish delectation of hunger-razed gluttony."N-No I can't...hrrrmph..." Teemingly, he eased his jowelly-tusked snout avidly into the heap, chewily yanking on a piece of moudly bun as he was listlessly roped onto a gorging fringe of untrammelled-scoffing hunger. "Grnnt...Grnnt"

Alexei watched Bucky's descent into swinish appetites with a mix of horror and fascination. He knew Bucky's strength of will to be immeasurable yet now he was succumbing to his newfound instincts with uncontrolled abandon. And yet, the pinch of hunger in his own stomach gripped tighter and the Russian hog found the thought of a minor indulgence to sate his craving to not only seem harmless but also heavenly. His eyes fell on the half-eaten piece of watermelon, the juicy sweetness beckoning him. "Ngh! It would be a waste to leave such a succulent thing to go unfinished." He found himself unable to resist as his snout inched closer to the fruit, his sense of awareness entering tunnel-vision as he leaned in and took a bite. The juice that soaked his mouth was an explosion of flavors that poured down his fur. He felt his nerves ignite with relief and the quell of hunger in his belly slowly ease. "Mmm, that is good," he rumbled.

Greedily he began to feast on the piece of fruit until it was completely consumed. His hunger however wasn't eased just yet as he mindlessly began to dig his snout into the trash in search of something else to feast upon. His jostling movements brought him to bump into his porky ally, making them fuss with a competitive edge to gobble what they could away from the other. "Nyet! I saw that first," Alexi grumbled as a piece of hotdog rolled out with dirty stains upon it.

As bumbling traction of Alex's stubbier hooves weightily dragged over the cascading heap, defensively, as he became careened out of his gluttonous vigil, Bucky huffed out a fiercer grunt as he was bodily pushed away from the gunky hot-dog. "W-Watch it, pal..." he snapped, petulantly, thrusting the jowelly pudginess of his ketchup-glaze snout into the coursened shagginess of chunkier Siberian boar's unkempt fur, who greedily overstepped his reserved proximity. The nauseous vapours that stinkily wafted off the garbage struck him like rapid-fire on arrestive succession-he was exponentially on the porcine fringe of unrestrained-slobbish mania. "Hey...Willya move your oinkin' ass, you Russian tub..." he drawled with Brooklyn grit, snortily, only to get unnervingly rumped-slammed by Alexi's globous backside as he chuckingly scarfed down the hot-dog. "Urgh... C'mon man..."

Before the Russian boar could mount an aggressive insult of his own, the piercing wail of a police siren heralded the reality of approaching cars headed for their location. The sound snapped Alexei out of his trance-like hunger only for him to feel Bucky's mass push through. "Ngh! Comrade, wait-" He looked down at the half-eaten in front of them, feeling for once the retching taste of trash at the back of his throat that had risen to overcome his taste-buds. What were they doing? Shaking off the haze of hunger, the boar nudged Bucky with his snout with a deep grunt. "Bucky, we must get control. If we do not, we may never find a way to reverse this. We will become nothing more than animals, forever lost to our hunger and instincts." His eyes grew solemn, the worry seeping into his gut wasn't just for himself but the others he had hoped to call fellow teammates-Thunderbolts.

With a chargined snort against the hijacking stupor that catatonically infused within the bulginess of his rotund form, droopily, Bucky slouched onto his flabbier haunches over the discarded trash-heap as he reactively pinched his dilated beadier eyes shut, trying his damnest to evict the possessive-fissionable upheaval of his piggish appetite. Every gut-shunting impulse was like warding off the cerebral-trigger mechanisms of Armin Zola's hypnotic inhibitors of the Winter Soldier reactivation-the radio static that gruellngly was a mind-repressing frequency-a sensory mantra of weaponized compliance. "Damnit...M' losing myself again..." he grumbled under his oinkish breaths, stammeringly, roving the steeliness of his grayish-aquamarine ireses blankly at the putrid-gunkier remnants of his unwarranted hunger rave that had come in spades. Huffing our a throttling grunt, wobbily Bucky shifted on his cloven-hooves, refusing to become leashed into fattening dormancy. "If we don't find a way to control ourselves, Red, we're gonna be nothin'...Just tubs of bacon rollin' in mud..." he oinked, sulkily. "I know what the end of line means for big guys like us..."

The sound of the sirens grew closer and the duo of pigs knew they had no other option now but to run. "We must flee first." With a gruffly-heave, the porcine ex-Winter Soldier and ex-Red Guardian pushed through a cluster of trees and shrubs, using the descending cover of darkness to mask them from civilians and first responders swarming the area. The duo awkwardly waddled into the shadowy-underbrush, silent and unsure of themselves as they became swarmed by a wash of new scents and sensations that came with their new forms. Alexi and Bucky had to more than once resist the impulse to tuck their snouts to the ground, their animalistic instincts to detect any human scents coming to them as natural as breathing air. Once they were a safe distance away from the sound of commotion, they reached the edge of the southern tip of the park where they could see gates and cars moving ahead.

Alexei paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he listened intently. "We must make a plan," he murmured, turning to Bucky with a newfound urgency. "We must find the others, warn them of Valentina's plot."

Pondering for a moment, broodily, the saddle-back hog knew that Valentina would have orchestrated her 'barn-yard' contingency protocols systematically targeting each team-member in their 'normal' environment. Staving off hard-pressed repulsion that he stowed for a chesty jerk-face who vexatiously radiated full-fledged asshole, Bucky emitted out a sourish grunt. "Our next move is to find Walker...Hell, maybe we'll be lucky and he'll be squawkin' peacock..." he quipped, snarkily, watching Alexi shake his wedged-sized head. "What...That guy is so full of himself, that he looks at his Cap photos on his phone instead of watchin' his kid..."

"You mustn't judge him too harshly, Winter Soldier," Alexi said, using Bucky's old moniker as a cold reminder. "Fatherhood...It isn't an easy road to walk, especially when the burden of duty and worldly expectations come to bear upon your shoulders." Alexei didn't know Walker well enough to judge him as a father, but he understood better than anyone how difficult it could be to look after those who needed you when you became lost in your own sorrows. "If Valentina is targeting us, she could be after the Ghost as well. She can at least stay invisible long enough to elude any attempt on her life. Walker won't be so fortunate. Do you know where we can find him?"

Hearing the snortier urgency tamping against the Siberian boar's gusto cadence, grumbingly, Bucky wavered on his stubbier hooves with an exasperated huff-the association with demoted Captain John Walker was premature after the Blip-razed extremists-the Power Broker's expandable pawns were dismantled. After utilizing his 'off-book' 'countersurveillance' methods that monitored Walker as a security precaution in case the denotative rabidity of his pent-up aggression drove him onto the homicidal fringe again like he did in Prague. Now, the elitist glory-hound was pegged as Valantina's throw-away collateral- a medical write-off of PTSD trauma. "Yeah...Walker goes to the same gym that Steve used in Brooklyn..." he answered in staunchier timbre, bluntly, rearing his jowelly snout in the direction of the Flatbush bourgh. "I guess he didn't kick the habit of being a second-rate poster boy..."

Crestfallenly gazing at the white material of his Armani shirt tatteredly clinging to the bulbous paunchiness of his lumpier -the congressional visage that gave him a 'dumb-luck' chance to kickstart a new legacy on the redemption highway-a new fight with paperwork and committee documents against the seditious bureaucratic grind-

"We must hurry then, saving him gives us a better chance at saving ourselves in the long run," Alexei grunted. Nothing more was said as the two hogs rushed out of the park in a full trot, their hooves stampeding across the streets of NYC. Civilians on the street yelped and leapt out of their way, some finding amusement in the "escaped zoo-animals" haste as they whipped out their phones to film them as they ran. As the sun fully set upon Manhattan, neither of them realized just how dire their situation would become and how far Valentina would go to see them silenced.

The picturesque ambiance of the brownstone environs had been through the grind of construction renovations since the erased years of universe-razing Blip; encomaic beat-downs had arduously ravaged households that eroded into graffiti-branded slum holes with shoot-up junkies. This wasn't his childhood borough -it was a melting pot of deterioration and grevious poverty. Crestfallenly, as he wobbled on his stubbier hooves, Bucky gazed at the shredded white material of his Armani shirt tatteredly clinging to the bulbous paunchiness of his lumpier -the congressional visage that gave him a 'dumb-luck' chance to kickstart a new legacy on the redemption highway-a new fight with paperwork and committee legislations against the seditious bureaucratic viper-pit. "Y'know I was tryin' to make this place better..." he oinked, sullenly, as Alexi lumberingly trotted at his chunkier flank. "I had a mission to help people in Brooklyn...I owed that to Steve for everythin' he did...Now I took a cheap shot I couldn't dodge..."

Alexei's eyes bore into the rundown buildings as he nodded his hoggy head. He understood the weight of the past, the burden of regret after spending so long in prison only to come out and witness how everything he once cherised had withered with time. "Da," he murmured, his gruff voice heavy. "But, Bucky, you must understand, guilt is like a pigsty. It's easy to get mired in it, but it doesn't help us move forward." He paused, his gaze shifting to look over a grim billboard depicting Mayor Fisk. It served as a reminder of the present state of the city. "You are not to blame for the choices of others, for the negligence of those who seek to control us." A moment of quiet followed as the two hogs shared a look, Bucky coming to somewhat rely upon the Russian's understanding. "Come, we should keep moving forward, stealthy as shadows."

Their journey to gym continued with silence as they trekked past a few civilians, keeping to the shadows, giving off the impression they were stray dogs in search of food. The closer they got to the gym, the more they were forced to ponder how they'd get inside without causing a ruckus. "Surely we can't just traipse through the front door-" Sure enough, he watched as Bucky pushed his snout against the edge of the pane, the door moving forward. The Russian hog grunted, a bit incredulous. "Or yeah, you know, we can do that..."

"K-Keep sharp..." A nasally snort gustily emitted from his bristled-jowelly snout as he snuffled against the saltier potency of gym-sweat that reekingly wafted from duffle bags propped against the wall adorned with vintage posters-the gallery of Brooklyn's Finest athletes. "Gragh..." Trotting with measured caution, haltingly, with a dumbfounded grunt, Bucky caught an unmistakable glimpse of whitish feathery tuffs wispily overlaying the cement flooring. "Yeah...That's not good..." Readily, jutting out the droopier pudginess of his wedge-out snout, warringly, he resigtered the virile muskiness-enhanced 'jacked-up' testosterone heatedly enwreathing over the boxing-ring area like a territorial deterrence -it was definitely Walker's scent. "Urgh...I can't believe M' smellin' Walker..." Floppily, his ebony-spaded ears, Bucky listened to a full-throated squawk that gratingly racheted on distressed tenor. Glancing over the furrier bristliness of his humped shoulder, he watched a ivory-blondish feathered goose thrashingly outstrech his feathery wings as he franitcally pecked his orgnaish bill at the whitish skeins of his fluffier plumsage on a tread-mill. "Yep...That's gotta Walker..."

Alexei's eyes bulged at the sight before them: John Walker, the once proud and stoic super-soldier fallen from grace was now a honking, flapping goose moving across the gym. Tattered remains of Walker's human attire clung to his transformed body, the distressed and angry honks emitting from the bird as he attempted to take out his frustrations on a punching bag caused the Russian boar to snicker with mirth. The absurdity of the scene was almost too much to handle. "Comrade Walker at least seems to be taking his new form rather well, nyet?" The Russian quipped, his piggish tone rumbling as he watched the goose peck the bag with his beak while banging his head against the surface. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Walker bemoaned with honk. "Why does this always gotta happen to me?"

Bucky's expression remained grim, his eyes squinting in a mix of pity and annoyance knowing they couldn't just leave Walker like this.

Staunching down a tumult of heart-vising remorse that glissiaded through his barrel-girthed form, stubbily, Bucky grounded his cloven-hooves with tempered restraint as he roved his beadier aqueous ireses fixedly at the steel-chilled water bottle visible tellingly inside Walker's duffle bag. Twitchily, the pinkish bristles of his jowelly snout rapted against the mintier-sugary rancidity of the contaminated liquid-peppermint-vanilla deceptively infused within the bottle. "W-Who gave you this..." While Alexi gnashingly chomped his tusked-insciors onto a feathery wing, yanking Walker from the punching bag as the goose comically emitted a trumpeted honk, tactfully, Bucky wobbled a hairbreadth closer, nudgingly his rubberized snout with steadier pressure against the bottle as he caught an evident whiff of a sulphurous potency. "I didn't think flavoured water fitted your style, Walker..." he grumbled , oinkily, knowing that he struck a nerve. "Stop with flappin' your wings at Alexi's head and focus, Walker..." Stomping down his fore-hoof, vexedly, he watched Alexi blobbily evade a wing-thrashing assault, ramming his larger head into Walker's curvier roundity to stave off his tantum-like defensiveness. "Focus...Did someone give you this bottle...?".

"..Bucky? ...Alexi?" The goose emitted an incredulous sound as his head jerked back and forth between the two wolf-sized boars in front of him that looked about as out of place in the gym as a fish out of water. The sound was eerily human-like, and it took John aback for a moment before he realized he wasn't hallucinating, just as he wasn't hallucinating the very real traumatic fact he was now a walking-talking goose. "The both of you too? What the hell is going on? Did one of you put that Tik-Tok chick up to this?" He said accusingly, not putting it above Barnes to do something so petty after airing his familial tragedy out in the open like it was his business. Walker had thought after the Void-Incident he could begin to move past the dark cloud that hung over him and begin repairing his public image, even meeting a pretty girl at the gym today seemed like a win. Now he knew like before his luck had completely been turned around.

"Wow...Must be hard for you to squawk, Walker..." The sardonic grumpiness of the potbellied saddleback's murmurous drawl had teasingly pinned the whitish-blondish feathered goose as the sagginess of his jowelly snout waggishly quirked into a half-smirk; he couldn't allow his rapid-fire snarkiness against the hot-headed maverick to become curbed. "I can't believe you think I would ask the Wizard...uh...Strange to use his hocus pocus to give me extra pounds for a gimmick...?" he vented out, trenchantly, jutting up his pudgier snout heftily with offish traction-he was on the fringe of butting heads with the snobbish ass-hole who recklessly played fisbree with Steve's vibranium shield. "Listen, we've been played by Valantina...She's targetin' us to remove loose ends...Since her New Avengers teamup went south..."

"What does De'Fontaine have to do with-" The goose took a moment to pause and reflect, replaying the harrowing moments after he'd taken a sip of his water bottle. He thought he was really hitting off with a woman calling herself Angela who ran the treadmill alongside him. She seemed sweet and energetic. He didn't think twice about letting her near his bag where he found his bottle with the lid half-opened. She'd left pretty quickly after he'd taken a drink from it. He didn't even get her number. "Ah...damn it," he quacked, flapping his wing aggressively against the bottle, sending its contents spilling across the floor. "I should've known this wasn't over. That old battle-axe isn't gonna let that whole fiasco in New York go along with us." The duck flapped his wings, putting himself on top of a bench so he was closer to eye-level with two hogs. "What the hell happened, Barnes? Work as a Congressman doesn't seem to suit your style if you can't leverage a case against Val, so I guess turning into a porker is meant to get the ball rolling?" He honked, grumpily.

"Kinda thought you would shut up by now, Walker..." The Brooklyn saddleback oinked in a derisive pitch, cockily, plonking onto his chunkier haunches, resigtering the springiness of his cockcrew tail being flattened by his grithier mass. Intimdatingly, he angled his tusked-snout with sniper-honed poise as his ebony-spaded ears flopped over the cushiness of his doughier jowels. Gusting out a nasally snort, Bucky quash down the riotious-aggressive onrush to unstoppably drive his hoof-charging momentum at the workout bench Walker unmovingly squatted his paddle-webbed feet onto with lithe ease, readily puffing out his fluffier chest. "Grah...Even with your feathers you're still gettin' on my damn nerves..."

"Enough, comrades." Alexei grunted, sensing an escalating shift of lingering hostility between the two super-soldiers that would only serve to derail their cooperation in the matter. "We must work together if we hope to undo this mess we have found ourselves in."

Walker, however, wasn't finished. His frustration over his own bad luck and the chafing reality he was now a fully transformed goose did little to soothe the turmoil he felt on the downward turn of his life. A life he had once thought blessed with opportunity but turned sour due to his own bad decisions in the face of insurmountable pressure and insecurities. He needed to expend his aggression, his instinct to pummel the punching bag with his wings nearly overtook him but seeing the look the pig was giving him, he recognized the lingering contempt Barnes was directing towards him, even after everything, and couldn't resist another jab. "This mess, I'm guessing, is gonna see both of you turned to a side of bacon with my eggs. How do you suppose we undo this mess?"

"Really...Playin' down the bacon card..." Blostering onto his stubbier hooves, ploddingly, Bucky wobbled near a Nike duffle bag, and instinctively rutted his wedged-out snout against the interior, bitingly gripped onto a bag of nacho-cheese Doritos with his porcine insciors, utilizing his self-preservation calbier of gathering rations for their street-level mission of being pegged as 'barnyard' fugitives. Warding off the gluttonous upheaval of piggily devouring the junk-food stash, wobbily Bucky shifted his rotund form near Alexi, easing down the chip bag. "Okay...Alexi, you're gonna be carrying a rations bag...Find anything that we can stomach in here...Once I figure out our next move, we're not repeating what happened in the park," he murmured, ruefully, lasering the bluish steeliness of his beadier ireses onto Walker. "Scout the back exit, Goose, make sure we have a clear away out... Stay low."

"Okay who put him in charge here?" John grumbled with a growling honk, his feathers ruffling with irritation and indignity over the situation. "Fine, I'll check it out. I can be stealthy." He waddled forward off the bench, flapping his wings to slow his descent to the floor before he began to move across the floor.

Alexei stared at the back of chips with a deep intensity, the gripping pit of hunger in his belly threatening to once again expand and demand his focus. He blinked through the haze and jerked his head beneath the sling of the bag, lifting it onto his neck with ease. Bucky tried to fall into a sense of tactical routine that could settle his nerves against the threat they were facing here while pondering the course of action moving forward. He watched as Alexei clumsily attempted to lift a granola bar off a nearby bench and into the bag with only his snout to aid him. Walker marched across the floor with an angry strut that would've been funny if not for the harsh language he kept whispering beneath his breath about scummy politicians.

"Back room clear, Congressman Hog!" Walker snarked as he made his way back towards the group. "Something tells me you're not eager to stick around and lift something other than candy-bars for a change, so why don't we just pay a visit to that wizard-friend of yours you mentioned?"

Giving a point-blank glare with steelier rawness menacingly alight in his beadier aqueous ireses, impassively, Bucky shrugged off the paunchy goose's abrasive remark concerning his vending machine stockpile of chocolatey Kit-Kat bars that he became exponentially addicted to during his Brooklyn campaign fundraisers-a semblance of normacy that quelled the mind-plaguing apparitions of his traumatic-unforgivable past. With a modicum of warring restraint, snortily, Bucky gnashed his porcine insciors, conveying his repulsion against Walker's heart-racking jabs. "Unlike you, Walker, I never had the luxury of tryin' new things when HYDRA took everythin' from me.." he grunted, snappishly, razoring his mistier gaze in the direction of a vending machine. "I wanted to be normal again...Now I'm not even human...I don't know where to find that wizard..."

The stero-like buzziness of a mounted 40-inch flatscreen broadcasted the Daily Bugle red banner that flashily steamed across the screen-Breaking News: 'Congressman James Barnes Missing at the Crash Wreckage... No No Bodies Found...

Bucky, Alexi and John stood gathered watching the broadcast in tense silence, Alexei simmering with despair as he watched his limo become a crime-scene that would likely be towed away as evidence. Bucky was awashed with dread as he watched one of the NYPD Detectives hand his government credentials over to a Bureau agent. Seeing the turmoil on the other hog's faces made John feel remorseful for taking his frustration out on them. "So the Feds will think you're probably abducted by our Russian friend here," John mused, earning a sharp glare from Alexei. "I'm just saying how it might look to them," the goose quacked, ruffling his feathers. "If De'Fontaine planned to take us out she might've thought turning us into farm animals would be a cleaner way of doing it? The last thing she wants is more publicity after Bobby turned the whole town into a nightmare central...Who's to say she'd stop at the three of us?" He wondered, dreading the fate of Ava, Yelena and even Bob wherever they were.

"Makes sense. It's easier to bump us off with snouts and feathers." Bucky oinked, grumpily, evicting the bone-grinding onrush of umtrammelled-piggish hunger that implosively steamlined through his veins, Bucky stumblingly wobbled near the unobstructed vending machine with fractional restraint-he needed to blow off steam. He knew that Sam Wilson would catch wind of the limo wreckage-he couldn't drag him into Valantina's crosshairs of 'barnyard' witchery. The loose-cannon team-deviant misfits of trade-off expandability-THUNDERBOLTS- were being raked off the chessboard because they refused to become showcased as profitable commodities. Grounding his stubbier hooves, frustratedly, Bucky thunked the blubberiness of his chubbier rump against the glass door, harnessing the breakneck momentum of his enhanced resilency as the machine jerkily angled backwards, spilling crinklier bags of chips and packets of M'M's onto the floor. Plowing his snuffling-jowelly snout over the heap, bitingly, he tore a bag open on slobbish accord, and began fervidly munching on the candied pieces. "Mmm...S'good..." he groaned, stuffily, gulping down a mouthful, as he gazed at the peevish goose, impatiently rapting his feathery wings. "Relax, Walker...I gotta my big tub filled or else I get really cranky..."

"You think this is the best time to stuff our faces, Bucko? Let me tell you what's easier to bump off than super-soldiers: two pigs and a goose," Walker quipped with an irritated honk, his eyes comically narrowing into slits that made Alexei chuckle. Undeterred by the grumpy goose's attitude, the Russian boar, coaxed by the scent of snacks his comrade was indulging in, felt a call to his own hunger as he plopped down a bag of chips from the rations bag and began to tear it open. "Now you too?" John waddled on his feet towards Alexei, fussily jabbing his winged feather in his direction. "If we don't get out of here and find a way to fix this, we're all going to be on the Chipotle menu down the street. Maybe not today, but eventually."

Alexei, his eyes glazed with a mix of hunger and mischief, shrugged off Walker's complaints, his mouth full of Doritos. "If we cannot eat, then we cannot fight," he munched, showering crumbs across the floor. "You should relax, Johnathan, and eat something. If you interrupt me while I feast, I may settle for eating a goose instead," he said with a deep ominous rumbling in his chest, his eyes boring into Walker with intensity that made the goose twitch in his stance.

"Ha...That's funny, Alexi. Really, funny..." Walker slowly shrinked back, his frustration boiling over to the point he couldn't help but wish he had a pack of sunflower seeds right now... He never ate those before, why was he thinking about how appetizing grass and seeds were?

Detecting that Walker's full-measured vigilance was being stirringly tampered with by unadulterated pangs of hunger, Bucky glimpsed at a drywood vegan garnola bar in the ration's duffle bag; shifting on his cloven-hooves, the saddleback drove his snout into the bag, tactfully gripping on the wrapper and slid it over to Walker's paddle-thinned feet, aware of his irritable brattiness of refusing the offered snack. "You're welcome..." he snorted in a grittier pitch, huffily, watching the goose easing down his razor-edged bill as Walker cautiously pecked at the crumbly garonla. "Stop being a tight-ass for once, and listen to your gut..."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," John lamented with a conceding droop of his head. His beak poked at the bar, crackling the wrapper with the sharp precision of a man who once wielded Captain America's shield. To realize how far he'd fallen from once carrying that iconic mantle to now picking at a vegan granola bar as a goose was crushing. But he knew Alexei and Bucky were right. They couldn't fight if they didn't eat something. John continued to poke at the wrapper until bits and pieces of the bar broke off onto the floor. His cheeks bulged as he took a large bite, chewing it with a grumble. He'd never eaten a vegan granola bar, he couldn't say if it tasted better with a human set of taste-buds, but his avian sense of taste was brimming with satisfaction.

"That's not bad," he said, chewing slowly with a more reserved appetite that was a glaring contrast to his piggish companions who scarfed down their feast with reckless abandon. As John continued eating the bar, his ears perked up suddenly as he detected a faint clatter of movement. "Do you hear that?"

Against his sniper-honed periphery, unwaveringly, Bucky roved the steeliness of his aquamarine ireses at the cement wall, tensely he registered a kinetic pulse of quantum-phasing engery spectrally fizzing around them like an electric current. Reelng back on clumsier traction, he caught the materializing flickers-the stealthier advances of SHIELD's 'now-you-see-me-' rogue operative who vanishingly absorbed kinetic particles of the concrete barrier. She had vampiric-deadlier swiftness that made her untouchable-a fleeting shadow. Twitchily, Bucky reared up the heaviness of his jowelly-tusked snout, pinpointing Ava's kinetic 'whooshing' frequency with his porcine hearing. "Ghost...It's me...snrrtt...Bucky..." he grunted, chuffily, knowing she would be armed with tasering cuffs to hog-tie him down. "Listen...Alexi...Walker and I have been given makeovers thanks to Valantina..."

With a pop of displaced air, Ava Starr fully phased into the room, her spectral form resolving into a sleek, human silhouette. She took a moment to survey the trio of transformed super-soldiers, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, well, don't you all just look like a trio of lost farmhands," she quipped. The two pigs grunted with annoyance while the goose narrowed his beady eyes with indignity. Ava took a moment to appreciate the sight of them as she took out her phone and snapped a quick shot. "At least I don't have to worry about furballs or feathers getting in the way of my quantum entanglements."

Bucky and Alexei glared at her, their chewing momentarily halting, while John rolled his eyes, feathers ruffling. "Figures you'd avoid turning into an animal. What does Val have it out for us just because we're guys? Or did you have a hand in helping her?" John said with a note of suspicion in his voice, wondering if this was Ava's way of getting back into Val's good graces. Something felt afoul in the air and Bucky and Alexi tensed in anticipation of another perceived threat.

A icier gleam of piked wariness melded in her lazurite-turquoise as she deviously mirrored the paunchy-girthed avian soldier's perturbed glower. "Are you always this rude when you don't have that fancy helmet of yours, Walker..." she deadpanned in a snarkier pitch with British lit, tartishly, and unerringly lowered down onto her sleekier demin-clad haunches, reaching inside his compromised duffle-bag at the second Walker flappingly streched out his wings on defensive tempo. "Stop getting your pretty feathers ruffled..." As her lithe hand gripped onto a thumb-sized disc, Ava deactivated the signalling frequency with a cheekier half-smirk. "Keeping up with your movements can be so boring.. Lucky for you, I'm practical with many little toys that I've stolen, and this little accessory helps me keep traces of people who are of high interest to Valantina's circle of deceptions..."

"Smart move...Very effective..." A nasally grunt breathily resonated from the pudginess of Bucky's cheese-dusted snout as he grumblingly chomped on a ripped packet of Cheezie puffs with throatier oinks-no callback vestige of reined control strummed within the grithier bulginess of roundity of his droopier roundity, he was being stuporously roped into the gorging throes of piggish-debauched hunger. "Get these damn-goink things away from meeeee..." A squealish oink unabashedly piped against the flabbiness of his bristly throat as he gutturally scarfed down another crunchier mouthful, feeling the cushiness of his underbelly expandingly bloated-out-he couldn't match Alexi's jumbo-sized appetite despite that he was a blimpish saddleback hog. "Grah...Changin' us into big tubs was just the first step of her plan...If you're not walkin' on hooves, Ava, somethin' tells me that you were a target of elimination...Did you see anythin' on a roof while coming here?"

"Funny you should say that," Ava said, her quirkier demeanour immediately turning grim. She reached up and touched a ragged tear in her suit, the fabric torn where a bullet had grazed her hours before. "Someone took a shot at me a few hours ago. If I had phased out a moment too late, I'd be dead. I've never seen anyone shoot quite like that, it was freakishly unnatural." The room grew tense as she recounted her close call. The precision of the shot had left her rattled. It was unnervingly close, clearly the work of a professional with frightening accuracy. Her powers were the only thing that helped her to survive. "Odds are, I'm on Valentina's hitlist same as you chaps are."

Shifting the steelier intensity of his beadier ireses at the window-a vantage point for a sniping headshot to explosively 'snkitt' through a barrier of glass and bleedingly punture the marked target with deadshot-bullseye- prescion. He knew that Valantina would be an expandable contingency-pawn- trickily up her sleeve-a contract sharpshooter who harboured no reservations of mercy against his psychotic-homicidal bloodlust-a 'damaged goods' rogue federal agent named Ben Poindexter who had been a headline maker after he was tragically exploited by the cut-throat titanic kingpin of Hell's Kichen: Wilson Fisk. His military-honed calibre-deadlier skillset was muderously proficient, despite that he was unhinged-crazed with fractured personalities-a carnage-reaper who enjoyed watching his world burn with every match he threw. Emitting a chuffy snort, unwaveringly, in an earshot, Bucky glanced at the unobstructed exit-the fenced back alley. "Alright...Listen up...Gettin' out of here won't be a calk-walk..." he murmured, oinkily, nudging his jowelly-snout into Alexi's blobblier flank as he clunkily wobbled on his cloven-hooves. "Ava will phase through first to make sure we have a clear way, once she gives us the signal, we move fast..."

"Hold on a second. Just because she has someone gunning for her doesn't mean we all got a hitman on our six," John interceded, trying not to let the dread and panic seep into his bones as he considered how dire their situation might be. The others all looked at him flatly while Ava arched an eyebrow at him challengingly. "I mean, let's face it, Ava, in your line of work you probably got more than few people chasing you for all the wrong reason," he honked. No sooner had his detracting comment left his beak did fate seek to challenge his perception with the shattering of glass and the whooshing fizz of a high-caliber round piercing the tense environment.

"Get down!" Ava reacted sharply as she scooped up the goose in front of her and leapt for cover while the two boars stormed out of the line of sight just in time to avoid a secondary round that whooshed in and pierced the floor with bone-chilling impact. "Comfortable? Or would you like to waddle for a walk in the park?" Ava quipped dryly as the goose tensed up in her arms, unable to form any sentences as he watched the bullets pierce his duffle-bag on the bench.

"New plan..." Driving his rampagous-breakneck momentum, wobbily, Bucky evaded the hailstorm of bullets as he gruntingly bashed his larger head against the steel door with batter-ramming force- the rustier hinges popped off on destructive succession. A white-hot onrush of flash-bang dizziness hazily bleared his porcine vision as he clumsily stumbled into a trash can like he got his bell rung, only to feel the bristled furriness of Alexi's tusked snout bodily anchor him. "Urgh...Still got it..." he oinked in slurrish pitch, alertly bracing his stockier mass against the roughened cement. "F-Feels like I just went a round with Bob again..."

"At ease, comrade. This cowardly sniper cannot hope to hit us from this range. His bullets cannot pierce the hulking muscle of the Super-Boars!" Another fizzing hiss of a bullet clipped the metal rung of an overhead fire-escape only for the bullet to ricochet off the surface and zip downard at a diagonal level, hitting Alexei's rear hoof. "YEBAT!" The Russian boar screamed his obscenity with equal parts rage and pain, the volume of which carried across the street towards the ears of a kevlar-covered marksman. A psychotic smirk pulled at the lips while cold hands gripped the high-powered Colt Model 933 rifle in hands.

"I'm fine-it was a lucky shot," Alexei grumbled, wobbling off his grazed leg that was beginning to bleed.

"Who the hell is this guy?" John honked with horror and amazement at the shot.

"You really want to go and ask him that?" Ava snarked as she pressed against the alley-wall with the trio of animals lined up beside her. "Keep it tight, he'll pick you all off one by one if you stick out so much as one itty-bitty toe off your legs."

"Move...Ava...Now..." A grumblier snort chestily gusted from his large nostrils, scrunching up the puffed droopiness of his porcine features, readily, Bucky pushed through with blinded traction as kinetic particles of the cement alarmingly digitalized at the moment Ava whooshngly phased them into the wall-just like when the inky tendrils snatchingly grappled him into the vacuous blackness of the Void when he chased Yelena into the 'shame-room' diemonsion. Gripping onto Ava's leathered coattail with his tusks, he was ushered into a clear-zone of a parking lot as his stubbier hooves clacked over the pavement. "Yeah...We're not doin' that again..."

"Are we clear?" John quacked, his head turning about rapidly, searching and tensing in anticipation of another shot being fired upon them. Bucky and Alexei's body were tensing with deep breaths, their bulking frames standing out like dark mammoth's in the darkness rimmed by an orange street-light hovering at the edge of the parking lot. He was met by grunting responses. "Starr? ...Come on, Ava. Talk to me," he honked, noticing her unease as she looking at their surroundings with cautious eyes. She met his gaze wrinkled her brows, perhaps realizing for the first time how strange it was to hear their human voices coming from their animal bodies.

"My car isn't parked far. Assuming he hasn't tagged it." She said, ushering them to follow.

"Who the hell was that anyway? Did Val pick up an Agent 47 to s*** us out?" John quacked as he waddled at a fast pace beside the rumbling boars who walked beside him. "Bucky?" He asked the saddleback boar, who seemed to have a better idea of what they were up against than any of them.

Hearing the squawky gratiness of tempered frustration, sniffily, Bucky thrusted his snout, nasally catching a vaporous whiff of the saltpetre and carbon nitrite wafting off the discarded bullets that littered the backend alleyway- a surgical tactic of intimidatingly putting them on the ropes of unwarranted fear. Evicting reservations of vulnerability-exhaustive sludginess that bloatedly clotted through his veins, scowlingly, Bucky levelled with the ornery goose. "Back when I was campaigning in Hell's Kitchen...I met up with a real hard-knocks journalist at the Bulletin for a sway interview...I found out she was a target of this deranged FBI agent named Poindexter, who pulled the trigger on a priest without mercy...He uses this city as his shooting range and once he starts killin'...He doesn't stop." Apprehensively, Bucky waddled near a parked vehicle's rear tire and oinkishly slouched on his tubbier haunches, beadily lasering a frostier glare his grayish-aquamarine ireses at hard-pressed goose. "You remember that damn feelin' Walker...The loss of control when everythin' turns red and you can't hold back..."

John said nothing, but the disquiet he felt must've been apparent because of it. He knew too well how it felt to lose control. The day his childhood friend had been murdered by terrorists which prompted him to take vengeance in public; how he lashed out like a cornered animal when Sam and Bucky had come to take away his shield and the mantle of Captain America. John had somehow managed to pull himself back from the abyss, he couldn't imagine what would've happened to himself had he continued a downward spiral like this assassin now hunting them.

"So we've got a psychotic former-Fed gun, with frightening aim to give Clint Barton a run for his money, now gunning for us. We're walking live-stock setup for target practice with only Starr here to protect us. Val must be laughing from up in her tower sipping a damn martini." The duck growled as his wobbly footsteps became angrier.

"We must forge a new plan to get out of this mess," Alexei grunted, annoyed with Walker's negative attitude but also coming to realize just how dire their situation was because of it. They could not survive long in this state. He could only hope that wherever Yelena and Bob were, they were safe from Valentina's reach.

Harnessing a wobblier strut, indignantly, Bucky tromped a breadth closer at the cement-parking barrier, nosing his coursened snout over an empty paper bag that was daubed with the sugary greasiness of a cinnamony doughnut-the porcine gluttony was infectiously corrupted his willpower-resistance-to curb down the rampancy of his bestial urges. With a guttural snuffle, bouncily, he torqued back with heart-slamming awareness that he was exceedingly being deadlocked into throes of piggish-fattening dormancy. "Wragh..." he grunted out, shakily, conscious of the hijacking-possessive bouts of unwarranted hunger. "I-If don't find a way out...Alexi and I are gonna lose ourselves fast..." Dragging his lubberly form to Ava's side, he tentatively nudged her curvier leg with his fore-hoof. "You said you got a ride close...Well, I know a place that will keep us hidden..."

"Speaking of hidden," Ava said with a cryptic smirk at her lips. The hogs and the goose stood confusedly as she stood in front of an empty-lane and steadily reaching out her hand. The air before them shimmered and a sleek, metallic Mustang materialized as if out of thin-air. The animal trio stared dumbfounded, jaws dropping.

Alexei's eyes widened in astonishment, his porcine snout quivering with a touch of envy. "Is that your ride, Ava?"

"This is my baby," she said, stroking the hood with affection. "Got the cloaking device rigged courtesy of an old SHIELD contact. She's handy in a tight-spot, especially when you don't have a roof over your head for the night and need to lay-low."

John looked at the car, silently impressed, yet couldn't help but snarkily quip, "What do you do if someone decided to park in the same lane when its invisible?"

Ava glared at him unamused. "Don't push your luck, Agent Goose. I'm already having second thoughts about letting you furry-feathered lot inside. Don't make me regret it by making a mess," she said as she opened the back-door, ushering the two boars in. "Come on, in you go."

With a modicum of teeming disgust, stiltedly, Bucky attempted to evade the globous rump that obstructed him from climbing over the cushioned backseat as the springy corkscrew tail of the Siberian boar wiggly rapted over his angled snout. Reactively, with porcine aggression, snortily, he jutted his dwarfish tusks into the lumpier furriness, waiting for Alexi to heft up the blubbery droopiness of his rotund girth over the seat. "Really...You can't lift yourself up... Unbelievable..." he grumbled, staunchily, easing his wedge-sized head forcily underneath Alexi's bulbous underbelly that was akin to a hot-air zeppelin. "C'mon, Red...Climb up..."

"I am trying!" Alexi grunted his fatter body as his legs wobbled in an attempt to a proper stepping point. Finally, he began hoisting his heavier frame over the seat with Bucky attempting to push him further in. "Why must all these fancy cars be so tiny?" Alexei complained as he felt the leather cushions groan against the pull of his weight. "We would not have this problem with my limo. She could handle all of us without struggle."

"Keep it down," John honked, feeling tense as he scanned the area for any sign of Poindexter. Ava tapped her foot impatiently, also feeling exposed as she surveyed the area.

Alexei gritted his teeth as he attempted to right himself into a proper sitting position on the seats. "I'm not the one making noise," he said, his voice a gruff growl. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of dread. "Bucky, I think we have a problem..."

Before Bucky could ask what the issue was, Alexei's stomach rumbled like an angry beast awakening from slumber. The Russian boar's cheeks puffed up as he tried to hold back the inevitable. "Gas...Gas...Gas!" he exclaimed with a hint of panic.

"Oh no," John crinkled his eyes as he watched and listened to Bucky take the full-brunt of the boar's thunderous f***.

As the gurgling 'blat' trumpeted out from Alexi's chunkier backside, expressively, Bucky's aqueous ireses grew wide-blown at the heart-jolting second he clumsily reeled back from the backseat against the sulphurous miasma-gas bomb of cheesier dortiors and vodka that pugently suffocated him in the eruptive wake of Alexi's dam-bursting-gassy assault. "Oh c'mon..." With slapdash 'hit-the deck-' prescion, he dropped onto the pavement, dragging out throttling grunts as he became nauseated by the fetid stench. Pinching his beady eyes with a flabbier scrunch, puffily, he sucked back a lungful of air. "Urgh...I finally breathe." He waited for the lardy gas-barrel hog to cushily slouch against the backseat, and piercingly scythed the knifing-volatic intensity of his 'Winter Soldier' glare at him. "Alexi, you gotta stop it with the Doritos...You're the Red Guardian...Not a fartin' pig."

"You do that again and I will throw you to the zoo-keeper myself, or better yet the butcher-shop," Ava said to the Russian boar as she wrinkled her nose with disgust. Her attention shifted to the goose who somehow managed to flap his wings and squeeze through the duo. "What are you doing?" She said, watching as he jumped over the arm-rest and made himself cozy in the front passenger-seat.

"I guess that leaves me with shotgun," John quipped, making a dramatic show of stretching his wings in a smug comfortable fashion.

"Think again, Gus Goose. I won't have you mucking up my new upholstery. Get cozy in the back with your super-farm besties," she snarled. Walker responded by grabbing the seatbelt with his beak and pulling it to lock into place, somehow making the act look infuriatingly effortless to the duo of pigs in the back-seat.

"I want to squish him," Alexei grunted.

"C'mon, Ava. This car isn't driving itself," John grumbled, watching with satisfaction as the British woman scowled and climbed into the driver's seat. "Let's get a move on or I won't be the only sitting duck."

Ava slammed the car door shut, she shot a side-glance at John, her eyes glinting with a smirk. "Buckle up, Walker. This ride's gonna get bumpy," she quipped, starting the engine with a roar and speeding out, the momentum causing the goose to fly up out of the seat and bump the top of his head against the ceiling of the car. He honked with indignation while in the backseat Bucky shrugged while leaning against the cushions.

"Shoulda got..gnrrt...a...oink...truck..." Squeezingly, Bucky dragged the paunchiness of his barrel-sized girth against the leathered seat as his stubbed hooves left puncture tears damagingly over the upholstery. "S'orry..." he murmured with a scrunchy grimace, plonking beside Alexi's mountainous form, while unabashedly dodging Ava's soul-piercing glare in the rearview mirror. Can't get used to movin' like this...Feels like M' a sack of potatoes..." Twitchily, his largish nostrils snuffled against the muckier-tangy reek wafting off the Siberian boar's dishevelled fur. " Can you move that big tub...I can hardly fit on here..."

The car continued on its path unassumingly through the streets of NYC, its occupants increasingly growing more frustrated with each other as well as themselves as they watched the passing civilians on the streets. Civilians who lived on the sidelines in normalcy while they stood further out in the chaotic world that had branded them as outcasts to be used and discarded. Bucky, Alexei, John and Ava fell into an uneasy silence, their minds lost somewhere between despair and uncertainty. What they did next would determine whether or not they'd thrive together as a team or fall divided in isolation. They had to figure out their next move while there was still time.

Gripping onto the crystallized stem of her martini glass, clad in a mulberry Parda suade long coat, Valantina Allegra de Fontaine grounded her viperious poise like a haughtier empress at the breadth of the panoramic window that veristically captured the mononlitc environs of downtown Manhattan; the immaculate-eclectic penthouse of the renovated Avenger's Tower-auctioned purchase to brand her elitist covetousness as her domain-Olympus that showcased her grand-scale wealth. Leerily, she glanced down at the surveillance drone recording on her tablet device that displayed footage of a 350-pound saddleback hog pathetically adorned with bristly pinkish-ebony fur and blunt tusks wobbily emerging from the backseat of the crashed Red Gaudian's limousine.

"Well, Congressman Barnes, you huffed and puffed to blow my house down, and now you're a chubby little piggy...Oink- Oink..." she chuckled, jauntily, tracing her lacquered-purplish fingernail over a Daily Bugle tabloid image of dashingly handsome James Buchanan Barnes hunkily garbed in a grey Ralph-Lauren suit with his roguish chestnut tresses slicked back as he stiffly posed at the podium of a campaign rally. "Now you won't be sticking your nosy snout into my business...Maybe I'll be having Brooklyn's finest bacon with a fresh bagel tomorrow..." Lowering her tablet onto the granite bartop, she registered a ghostlier aura of untapped-murderous bloodlust deathily encroaching behind her. "Well, did you catch my little ghost..."

The sudden sound of a soft clank resonated through the dim penthouse. Valentina tensed, her heart skipped a beat as she sensed a shift in the air, alerting her to the reality that she wasn't alone. She pivoted elegantly on her heels to face the direction of the bar. There a shadowy figure sat upon one of the stools. Her new off-the-books acquaintance that she had tasked with cleaning up all the old dirty laundry she still had lurking out there giving off the stench of her corrupt schemes. Benjamin Poindexter, known to the world as Bullseye, was a psychopathic sharp-shooter whose aim was as perfect as Clint Barton, but his instability in the field often led to messy outcomes that until now she would never have thought to risk sullying herself with.

He sat at the bar with his dark blue target-insignia cowl pulled down, his cold silvery eyes manically glazed over as he took a shot of whiskey. "Good evening, Ms. De'Fontaine," he greeted, his voice a a sickly purr that sounded like nails across a chalkboard. "I hope I'm not interrupting your fantasizing," he chuckled darkly as he took a swig, "I always knew you big-shot directors were just as twisted as the grunts like you looked to clean up your dirty work in the field."

Sliding a decanter of malted bourbon across the granite bartop near his leather-clad hand, imposingly, Valantina hoisted her svelte form onto a cushioned stool beside him as she detected that his teeming-predacious edginess was being underscored by her deceptive charade of free-hand trust. "Your specialized talents of cleaning up unwanted trash haven't gone unnoticed, Dex..." she commended with a sibilant cadence, huskily, watching him aggressively swig back a whiskey glass with a snarlier gulp. "Unlike your former associates of disclosed contracts, I deliver you the good stuff when the job gets done..." Clinking open a Parad briefcase, she gave him a glimpse of a developed document. "In this little file is a passcode that will open a vault where all SHIELD's expensive toys have been collected...Once you gave me the answer that those hero-wanna-be delinquents have been dealt with..."

Dex's eyes narrowed, his finger tapped the bar in a rhythmic pattern of contemplation. His demeanour caused Valentina's confidence to fall, realizing she was about to receive a less than favorable answer. "They managed to slip away..." He said, taking another shot to soften the blow of displeasure in his stomach. "That Ghost-lady got to them. I'm pretty sure I gave one of them a souvenir before they scurried away. They're running right now, I figured you might have a hunch as to where." He watched as his benefactor tapped her fingers on the surface of the bar impatiently, perhaps waiting for him to deliver a more favourable detail but there was none left to give, prompting Valentina to twist her lips into a wrinkled frown before a forced smile edged on her lips.

"Here I thought you were more than a trick-shot psycho..." Witchily, she grazed her lithe hand with flirtatious ministrations over his Kevlar-clad thigh, resigtering a predatory tautness defensively coiling within his muscled resilency; the headier-savourous onrush of cutthroat rabidty was addictively exhilarative through her veins. Keeping her possessive fingers teasingly gripped onto the dark navy kevlar, Valantina dragged out a breathy sigh as she gazed at the dimpled-notch prominently accentuating his razor-edged chin. "I can see that you're still that lost boy...The one who grew up fighting his demons but decided to become one...We can have so much fun with that..." she murmured, coaxingly, brandishing a maternal semblance of nurturing the wild card in her rigged deck. "Listen, I need you to finish the job...The brooding hog calling the shots of their fugitive game is Bucky Barnes...The redeemed HYDRA robo toy...He probably uses a residence in Brooklyn as his shabby hideaway..." She drew her hand back with the swiftness of a viper-strike and maliciously clutched onto a whiskey glass. "Bait him out with something his porky form can't refuse...Bring him to me once his Thunderbolt barn pals are terminated."

Dex's sadistic smile grew wider as he stepped off the stool, his piercing eyes boring into the older woman who he sought to make even more uncomfortable as he invaded her personal space, watching as she kept a poised mask of fearlessness. "I'm a straight-shooter, Ms. De'Fontaine. I don't ask questions when there's a target to be eliminated. But you want one of them spared? Why him?" He said, curious over the new instructions. He wasn't an idiot. He knew who the infamous Winter Soldier was, a man whose reputation was as lethal as an urban legend. The thought of being the one to bring him down, of putting an end to the legend, was tantalizing.

Being denied the opportunity to put a bullet through him didn't sit well with the assassin. Why did Valentina want him spared? "What's so special about Barnes that you want him delivered as a trophy?"

"It seem that little porker has an evidence card to play down against me..." Shiftily, Valanatina glanced at her tablet as she edged her lithe hand over the device that stored the downloaded lab reports of Robert Ronald-the infusions of an enhanced-genetic cocktail that surged through his veins. "As you know from media posts, my unveiling of Project Sentry didn't go well with my public investors, especially the big suits of Capitol Hill..." Convincingly, her stonier-Box-Toxed features insidiously played off a snakebit-malefic demeanour as she displayed R&D sigmetics of her 'off-book' projects as Dex fixed the hawkish intensity of his steelier-bluish ireses malignantly at the casuility reports from O.X.E Malaysian lab-the disposable proof that Bucky would send to the impeachment committee- playing off his charm-boy tact to sweeten a text-buddy alliance with her shadowing assisaint-Melissia Gold."I want Bucky Barnes leashed to my hand so when I drag that fat ass of his down the congress hall I will named cleared off the board..."

Dex's eyes grew colder as he took the last swig of whiskey, savoring the burn as he placed the empty glass back on the bar. "I'll consider it," he said, his tone filled with malice and greed. "But it'll cost you extra." He noted the unbothered yet quizzical look in Valentina's eyes to which he returned with a calculated smile. "After all, I have a much bigger trophy of my own to collect-the head Mayor Fisk," he announced, his eyes gleaming with unresolved animosity that wouldn't be quelled until he dethroned the Kingpin and made everyone else who stood in his way suffer for it. Hunting down Valentina's rejects and a diminished Winter Soldier was just a distraction to help fund his prime directive.

"No sleight-of-hand's with my paycheck, Ms. Fontaine. I'm the one man in this city you don't want to screw over," he swiveled off the stool, his broad steps carrying him into the shadows heading towards the elevator. The night was young, and he felt like he was death's herald sent out to claim the lost and deliver them to hell.

Gulping down a gooey-cheesier mouthful of half-chewed pizza, gruntingly, Bucky furrowed his jowelly-puckered snout over the emptied cardboard against the gut-racking onslaught of porcine hunger as he chubbily slumped against a cement wall of a spartan Brooklyn flat that he utilized for a harbour point when being a high-interest fugitive under SHEILD's radar, the unkempt grunginess of his coarsened pinkish-ebony fur was adorned with stringy cheese remnants that slobbily clung to his paunchier mass. Grounding his cloven-hooves, unmovingly, Bucky didn't attempt to budge as he registered the huffy snorts demandingly emitting from the grizzly Siberian boar-definitely a scale-breaker with his walloping-ponderous routnidty that hulkingly eclipsed his tubbier form. "Urgh... Not happenin' Alexi..." he oinked in a snappish pitch, grumpily, knowing there was no common-ground of restraint against fattish hogs. 'Grnnnt' With a defensive measure of salvaging the last of the four king-sized mushroom and cheese pizzas Ava had reluctantly purchased for them, aggressively, Bucky stomped his vibrainium fore-hoof onto the box for the umpteenth time. "Stand down...Now!"

spectro-disruptive pulse

Alexei's beady-eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded in what his animalistic-mind spoke of as a rival, with open defiance. Their gluttonous craving had only gotten stronger since they'd left their snacks at the gym and now neither could be deterred by sense of reason. "No one likes a hoarder, Bucky," he snarled, his Russian accent thick and deep with irritation. "You think capitalist-pigs are all the same-greedy and entitled. What say we settle this the old-fashioned way? Winner gets the pizza," He stomped his hooves into the floor, mimicking Bucky's authority with an open challenge while his stomach growled with encouragement.

Meanwhile, John Walker sat unamused on a pile of blankets with a small bowl of seeds beside him. The goose's feathers ruffled as he ignored the squabbling, his eyes focused on the television screen. He clicked the TV remote with his beak, flipping through channels with a finesse that made the task seem effortless yet irritable to the avian. "Seriously, Bucky," he squawked. "Basic cable? In 2027? Have you never heard of Netflix?

"Walker...Just don't..." Against the slapping pudginess of his bristly jowls, noisily, Bucky munched on a half-eaten crust as he laggingly eased into his chunkier haunches, aware of his wiggling corkscrew tail vexingly pinching against the flooring. "Argh...Can't get used to this..." Nudging his blunt-tusks against the cardboard, he flipped open the box, exposing the remnants of mushrooms that Alexi sniffed on hungrier accord. "Take em' before I change my mind..." He wouldn't become a sucker for brotherly receptiveness-trust with Dreykov's jovial poster boy of Soviet patriotism; he reserved that for his best friend-Stevie Rogers, he wasn't a teamplayer. Waddling near the heaped makeshift nest of blankets that Walker squatted over with tempered frustration, Bucky plonked down beside him. "Listen, what I said about your family...Your kid...That was a cheap shot and I had no right to say that..." he oinked, raspily, as Walker passively roved a sideway glance with his beadier cercelean orbs at him. "You're not a damn liability...Don't let the past own you..."

John sat silently in stunned silence, his beak parting in surprise before snapping shut to mask his reaction. His eyes blinked once, then twice before his gaze flickered back to the TV, a flicker of emotions moving through him. Remorse, gratitude, uncertainty. While it was true that it wasn't Bucky's place to share his personal life issues with the classroom, John didn't hate him for it, knowing that Bucky had every reason to resent him after everything involving Sam and the shield. John had let his demons and insecurities distract him from the things that mattered most and every hurtful reminder was either a push to better himself or a pull into the dregs of despair. He didn't think twice about coming to Bucky's aid when the Sentry had flung Bucky's bullets right back at him, nor did he think to leave him behind as he and Alexei carried him out. He chose to push forward, that meant forgiving and forgetting.

"Water under the bridge, Bucky." He took a moment to digest the rare moment of sentiment, the words thick in his beak. Feeling uncomfortable suddenly, he nipped once again at the remote, searching for something worth watching. "But seriously," he honked, "once we're done with this...you need to upgrade to something better than basic cable. Even Disney+ is better than this," he chuckled to himself humorlessly

Ava, who had been quietly observing the exchange, rolled her eyes with exasperation while sipping her herbal chai tea from the kitchen table. "If you boys are quite done with the heart-to-hearts, maybe we should get back to focusing on the task at hand. Like finding out how to get your arses' back into shape unless you fancy your new style?"

"T-There's not gonna be much time... I can feel my mind slippin'..." Snortingly, Bucky angled his larger head down with a chargined variance of underlying restraint a he became conscious of the irrevocable reality of being gripped into throes of perpetual-fattening dormancy; every mouthful he piggishly gorged down was like a mind-numbing anesthetic that was catatonically raiding through his obesefied-hoggish form. Maybe there was a fractured chance to get the barnyard tag-team away from Valantina's berserko sniper's crosshairs? Shifting on his cloven hooves, wobbily, he advanced near the air grate, grazing his vibrainium fore-hoof over the metal as he forcily hammered down enough pressure to pop off the grate cover. Lowering his elongated snout, he reached for a matte-black iPhone, grabbing the device with his deformed-blunt teeth, pulling his rubberized snout from the dustier vent. Strutting with bouncier paces, he waddled near the circular oak table where Ava sat with her black-denim clad legs, tensely propped against the edge. "On this phone is everythin' I saved from Project Sentry...Grnnt...Find Congressman Gary and give it to him for the...snrtt... Committee trial..." he oinked in a whispery pitch, easing the drool-slathered phone onto a chair. "Yeah...Might wanna clean that..."

Ava took a moment to absorb Bucky's proposal, the gravity of which also garnered the attention of the goose on the couch and the Russian boar who had a piece of cheese pizza stuck to his snout. "What makes you think Congressman Gary will trust me, Bucky?" Ava said, her eyes narrowed with skepticism. "No doubt he's aware of my background. I'm hardly a saint in this town. He'll merely suspect my presence is foul-play on Valentina's part," she said, her tone flat and growing increasingly agitated as she considered another grim possibility. "There's always the possibility that Valentina could leverage your fate in exchange for the hearings being dismissed." She wouldn't put it past the crafty old skunk to bargain someone's humanity for her own freedom. Ava tasted desperation once and knew what it could do to a personal cornered like an animal.

"Hold on a second here," John honked, climbing up the couch to the top of the cushions. "You're not thinking of sacrificing yourself here are you? C'mon, Bucky. What are the odds De'Fontaine cooked up a serum to turn us into farm animals without having some kind of antidote on her as insurance?" He pointed out.

"If Valantina gave us these makeovers, she'll do the same to lot of good people..." With a dismissive scrunch over the flabbiness of his puffier jowls, huffishly, with sullen broodiness over his porcine features, Bucky waddled lumberingly towards an empty closet that had cushions stuffed inside to make him comfortable despite the fact that he was a 300-pound saddleback hog. Easing down onto his balloon-out girth that cushily 'schlop' against the flooring, he oinked resigtering the plap-plap of his stubbier haunches fusing over the blankets as he was grappled with languorous exhaustion. The irrepressible barrages of unwarranted hunger arrestingly crescendoed within his paunchy rotundity-he couldn't shake it off. Sulkily, he puckered the moistness of his tusked-snout, trying his damnnest to staunch down the grevious defeat infectiously suffusing through him. "We have to...Hrff...Make sure everybody at the committee trial won't be her next targets...If the evidence goes out, that shunky hag will be sent to the RAFT...Sam will find the answers to get us back standin' again..."

"We should take the fight to Valentina. We know where she lives!" Alexei rumbled, his piggish appetite having fueled his sense of aggression towards the familiar course of combat. "She cannot be allowed to hurt anyone else. It is our duty!" The haze of hunger had lifted momentarily yet there still laid an absent-sense of instinct that spurred the Russian boar to stomp his hooves. "IT IS OUR FIGHT!" And then he charged thunderously towards the nearest heavy object, that being the weights stacked up beside Bucky's lifting bench he kept in the corner of the living room. The others called out, urging him not to do anything that may hurt himself. Yet the team were thrown in with wide surprise to see Alexei's not only collide with the 800lb weight stack unharmed but topple it over with ease.

John's jaw dropped, Ava's eyes widened and Bucky stared with disbelief. "Did he just..."

Alexei grunted and heaved until he realized what he'd done. "I'm...still strong?" Testing his theory, Alexei moved over towards the heavy couch and stuck his head underneath and then with astonishing ease, he tilted it up off the ground. Walker flapped his wings and came down from the cushions, watching Alexei who began to oink with deep throaty laughs. "I AM STRONG!"

Hearing the boisterous gusto avidly revving with Siberian boar's nasally snorts, viscerally, Bucky felt the blood-rushing voltage of his enhanced-superhuman resilience tempoing within his droopier girth. Easing himself off a cushion, impressively, he drove all the momentum-ferocity of a breakneck headbutt into the wall's plaster that crumbly dusted over his floppy ears. Blurringly, he stumbled back on wobblier traction, shifting his beadier aqueous ireses unwaveringly at his proud-hoofed beastlier comrade who heartily reared his tusked snout, conveying his jovial reaction. "W-Woah...I kinda feel like a tank..." he rasped, oinkily, gazing at the cater-sized hole. "Damnit...That's comin' out of my pocket..."

The Goose looked on as the piggish duo demonstrated their enhanced super-soldier strength with quiet contemplation and small envy. "The serum is still part of us?" He looked down at his feathered stature with uncertainty, the grip of insecurity as tight as the day he had first put on the Captain America uniform and felt lacking in terms of strength.

He felt their gazes on him, Ava picking a sunflower seed from his bowl and plopping it into her mouth while ushering him onward. "Well, come on, Feathers. Let's see what you got," she said, emboldening him with a sense of curiosity.

"Don't eat my seeds," Walker grumped, flapping his wings and attempting to mimic Alexei's move by lifting the edge of the couch. It teetered but didn't give, causing the bird to honk with frustration. "Come on!" The couch skidded across the floor, barely lifting. The goose honked and flapped his wings rapidly. "Move, damn you!" He felt the couch fall and trap his neck, the pain barely registered but it went unnoticed as he dug himself out and stared at his reflection in the nearby mirror with disgust. "Why is it always me-"

"Maybe your strength lies elsewhere, Goose," Ava suggested, feeling a touch of sympathy for the man trapped in his own self-loathing. "Pigs are all fat and muscle. Birds like yourself rely on something else." She tapped her nose, hinting at him. Walker blinked, suddenly realizing what made his life so easier as a bird that the pigs lacked. Precision. His beak. Waddling towards Bucky's weight pile, he tensed himself and glared at the circular plate. He thrust his beak with all his might, feeling the tip pierce the exterior and sand spill out from it all over the floor.

Flapping his wings like a man who just won the lottery, Walker honked with mild enthusiasm. "Haha! I've still got it!"

Twitching his floppier ears in reactive sync, impassively, Bucky detected a predacious-maniacal aura stealthily radiating close to their exposed proximity like ozonic swelter of a encroaching storm; he attunedly listened to the 'clack' of the reloaded calibre stock vibrating in the chamber of Smith & Wesson Model 952 automatic rifle that was methodically poised with flesh-goring bullets that hellishly would turn his Brooklyn flat into an execution gallery of slaughterous bloodbath. "G-Guys, we gotta move..." he urged, pressingly, knowing that Valantina's 'off-the-rails' sniper would deliver gut-shot assault onto the biggest target locked in his crosshairs: Alexi. "Break down the door..."

"What are you talking about-" Alexei's gaze landed on a shifting red dot that began to move across the room. The room fell deathly silent as the sniper's laser sighter moved malevolently across the wall, settling over Ava's sternum. She froze as her sapphire eyes widened, the blood draining from her cheeks. The shot suddenly rang out and in the blink of an eye, Ava's body phased out, allowing the bullet to pass through her and pierce the wall of the living room. Chaos suddenly erupted, the Russian Boar squealing with horror, "we've been discovered! Get to cover!" Alexei squealed.

John flapped his wings as more shots rang out, causing an explosion of glass to shower across the room. The pigs stumbled and charged as they attempted to make way for the door. Their porky bodies crashed into furniture in their sloppy coordination. The goose flopped towards the corner, his feathers ruffled and his heart racing the bullets continued to spray through the shattered window. "Bullseye. That son of a b*** found us!" John yelled over the chaos with equal parts disbelief and anger. "I thought you said this place was secure?" He yelled over at Bucky. His squawking yells went unanswered as the pigs barrelled towards the door, Alexei putting all his weight into the act. There was a moment of piercing calm as the gunshots stopped, the deafening beat of their pulse ringing loudly in their ears. "Where the hell did Ava go?" Walker

There was an audible "thunking" noise that sounded like cylinders being fired. Canisters fell into the apartment and smoke began to billow out.

"MOVE...!" With a guttural squeal, Bucky drove his rampageous-adrenaline-fueled momentum blindingly near the hallway stairwell as shards of glass piercingly rained over them at the heart-notching moment a grappling military-grade zipline struck the wall on rapid succession. Gruntingly, he skidded onto his cloven hooves as he bodily thunked his wedge-sized head against the lumpish shagginess of Alexi's bulbous girth. Flapping his spaded ears up, Bucky registered the fizzing noise of the gas canister as Walker clumsily shuffled on his webbed-feet behind him. "W-Walker...Stay back..." Explosively, a depth-charge pulse-the flash bang-white heat of smokier phosphorus deafeningly concussed against his ears. "Argh..." Vertiginously, Bucky stumbled against the collapsing gravity of his blubberized mass as his vision blurred on dizzier fruition. "S'-Sorry about this, blednyy(pal)..." Reacting on a callback of soldiery instinct, weightily, he pushed Alexi down the cement steps, forcing the burly-zepplin hog comically to belly-slide off the stairway, making him dodge a paralytic tranq dart that 'skirrt' jiggily into his saggier neck with dead-shot prescion that was akin to a bee-sting. "No-Noooo.."

The masked shape of the infamous killer, Bullseye, entered through the window with a gas-mask secured over his face. His silhouette was like a specter amidst the fizzling smoke that filled the apartment. Bucky could barely see in front of himself, but he had the distinct impression that he was in the assassin's crosshairs. But at least Alexei and John had made it out.

"Here...Piggy Piggy..." Bullseye taunted, his voice muffled by the mask. He was moving closer, his steps deliberate and calculated with raptor-like prowness, each one bringing him nearer to his prey. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." His sharp gaze saw a shift in movement and then the floor began to shake as if a speeding train was moving directly towards him.

"Grahghh..." Propelling a head-ramming assault of his stoked-unriddled ferocity, snortingly, Bucky drove his larger head into the pythoic sniper's Kevlar-clad legs, who jolted back against the sledgehammering force that careened him breathlessly into a wall on head-jerking impact of whiplash. Harnessing a vestige of his enhanced agility, Bucky lunged at his villainous attacker with a full-throated grunt, aggressively powerdriving the blobbier heaviness into Dex's mid-drift as he ricocheted up like a volley-ball with boucier momentum that crushingly became deadweight. Emitting a choke-off gasp, Dex unleashed his fissionable rabidity, viciously clawing his gloved fingers bursingly over the saddleback's humped back as Bucky defensively stomped his vibraimum hoof into his armored chest. "Y-You're done...!" he snorted, lashingly, while Dex gripped onto the tranq-dart and unremittently pushed the needle deeper into his globby neck-fold. "Urgh..." A hazier onslaught of induced grogginess sludgily floored his movements with no avail. "L-Leave em'...Alone..." Slurringly, he felt his stubbier legs buckle against the dosage as he numbingly collapsed like a sack of potatoes over Dex's pinned form, snottier wettness drippily trekked from his nostrils against wheezy oinks-he was roped onto the unconscious dregs.

Dex pushed the heavy sack of porcine meat off of him, his gloved hands wiping the wet snot off his chin. "F*** saddleback," he spat, disgustingly. He stumbled to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the unconscious pig. "Too easy. Too disappointing. I can't believe you used to be the Winter Soldier. Now you're nothing but a glorified pork chop." Glancing towards the doorway, he scowled as he realized the others had gotten away. For the moment anyway. He thought taking out the Russian pig and the Captain America-reject would be easier compared to taking Barnes alive. Dex frowned as he realized Starr was likely still at large as well.

With a grunt, he heaved Bucky's bulkier body over his shoulder. He weighed practically a ton. The enhanced-modifications to his damaged spine after his first battle with Kingpin had not only allowed him to walk again but also gave him superhuman endurance. He moved towards the open doorway and carried the hog down to the alleyway before plopping him into the trunk. Valentina would certainly be happy when she found the gift-wrapped hog delivered to her building tonight.

The smoggier mugginess of the Flatbush environs was swelteringly against his bristly-mahogany fur; he was becoming sweat-logged by the insufferable humidity that soggily entrenched him. Dragging out heavier snorts, raggedly, Alexi lumbered on his stubbier-cloven hooves as he paced beside the cuverous-svelte goose who strutted on his blackish webbed-feet with battle-honed vigilance fierily alight in his silvery-bluish orbs."Urgh...You Americans with your hot cities...Terrible." he grumbled out, chuffily, angling his pudgier snout up with an oinkish snuffle, attempting to isolate Bucky's scent. "Da...I can't smell our glorious comrade, Bucky...He had a plan to save us...We must find him, Mister Walker..."

"How do we know he's still alive?" John snapped with a growing pitch to his voice. "We shouldn't have left him back there," he squawked with a remorseful tilt to his head. He never liked leaving a man behind, and Bucky's absence was already keenly felt as he looked between himself and the Russian boar beside him. "What the hell was he thinking staying behind? If Poindexter didn't put him down, he probably has him strung up by now to serve to Valentina on a silver-platter." Pacing about on his webbed feet, the Goose contemplated the next course of action available to them. "Whatever leverage he had was on that phone. Ava-damn it, she had it before she-"

"Looking for me?" Materializing out of nowhere, Ava Starr appeared with a smug expression, holding the very same phone that had been in Bucky's possession.

John's head snapped around, his feathers fluffed with mild irritation over her hasty departure back in the apartment where they had been nearly killed. "Well good to see you're still with us."

Hearing the sardonic grittiness of his low-pitched timbre infuriatingly shoot off on rapid fire, Ava flashed him a stonier glare as she lowered onto her sleeker haunches with the iPhone steadily clutched in her gloved hand. "Oh, it's always a pleasure to see you feathers..." Ava jibed out, snarkily, watching the onerous goose puffily ruffle up his grithier plumage as she micro-phased spectrally her lithe finger into the device, bypassing the security encryption password. Within seconds, she pressed the gallery icon on the screen, opening saved photos that revealed a crumbled documents of Project Sentry-crossed off names of recruits who died from the infusion process. "It seems Barnes downloaded files that Valantina's assistant sent to him about Bob's lab enhancements and the names of volunteers that didn't survive...The ones she had incinerated into her desert hot-box..."

The Boar and Goose stood next to each other peering at the phone-screen, their moods plummeting with each swipe of Ava's finger to reveal more atrocities committed in the Sentry experiments.

"Monstrous. Valentina would not care how many she sacrificed to achieve her goals," Alexi rumbled with a stony glare. John shuddered, envisioning a scenario where his desperation to fill in Captain America's shoes could've seen him as an unknowing participant in these experiments had he not obtained that serum beforehand in his fight against the Flag Smashers. It all made sense now why De'Fontaine was so desperate to scrub all evidence linking her to this project.

"Maybe its a good thing Bobby didn't remember everything. That's the stuff of nightmares," he said with a touch of remorse for their wayward friend who had become a man divided within himself due to the experiments. Were it not for Yelena and their collective effort, who knows how bad things would've gone during the Void Incident. "Barnes had the right idea," Walker grunted despite himself. "This could put De'Fontaine away forever. We have to make sure it happens."

"Not to be a killjoy on your gungho of a plan, Walker, but you've got feathers...You can't hold a shield." Ava pointed out, tartishly, mirroring the blondish-ivory feathered goose's beadier azureous orbs as she gestured her lithe hand at his tenser feathers rapting over the asphalt on edgier flutters. If she phased inside the Avenger's Tower with her stealth micro-armour, she would activate the sonic-disruptor EMP sensors that Valantina had stationed at the elevator of her penthouse; the electromagnetic pulsation frequency of kinetic engery had given her an ear-splitting migraine during the Utah highway convoy assault. She wouldn't risk being detected-their dynamic synchronicity of being a well-oiled team had faltered against the residency of competitiveness and lethal efficiency. "We have to play our next move smart, if the skunky hag wants us cleared off the board, then who else has she targeted...?"

Alexi tensed, his nose and tusks bristling in agitation. "Yelena." The name came out a harsh breath as he thought of his surrogate daughter that was now in the wind abroad. "She can handle herself," he said firmly. "But we need to find the Congressman. He's the only one who can expose Valentina and perhaps help us in regaining our true forms."

John squawked in frustration, his feathers ruffling. "Yeah and lets just leave Bucky to be served as the main course in some sicko's penthouse," he complained, still not happy over the fact they'd left him behind.

"Getting a soft spot for Mr. Broody are we...?" A coquettish snarkiness murmuringly tamped against her raspier undertone, with deft pressure, she adjusted the PYM regulator of the leathered gauntlet tactically sheathed over her forearm, Ava dispersed a kinetic pulse of quantum energy that stabilized her phasing molecules fusing within her veins-she was on the fringe of dissolvingly atomizing into a spectral mirage. "Knowing Valantina, she will amuse herself by fattening Barnes up with her expensive desserts...He'll be a trophy pig to gloat over..."

Alexi's muscles tensed with his hooves grinding against the pavement beneath him, his fur bristling with growing determination to fight back against their foes. "Not if we can help it," he grunted. "We haven't a moment to lose. Let us find this Congressman and then save our friend."

"Then we deal with Val," John squawked in agreement.

"Da, comrades," he said with a firm nod, "Avengerz, let us take the fight to our foes!" Stomping his hooves eagerly, the hog paused mid-motion before flicking a look towards Ghost. "You still go in your car, yes?"

"Remind me to start charging you for gas money..." Devaintly, Ava half-quirked the fullness of her delicate glossier lips into a cheekier smirk as she viscerally registered the oversized boar's teeming fervency that strummed within the droopier pudginess of his barrel-girth roundity while he gustily emitted chestier grunts. "Alright, farm boys, let's finish this mission and get our moody Winter hog out of the dodge..." Being weaponized to exist in the SHIELD ranks as their stealth operative -a marionette of undetectable espionage, she never fostered the acceptance of being a team player, she balanced the relevance of trust on a knife-edge. With a steelier reserve, lithely, Ava rose off her armoured haunches, conciously slipping the iPhone against the leathered sleeve of her gauntleted forearm as she impishly sauntered down the alley, giving Walker a sidelong glance to gawkily waddle behind her on slapdash accord. "My car isn't far...Walker, you won't be calling shotgun ...Feathers are too messy."

John let a disgruntled squawk, his feathers ruffling in annoyance as he shot both Ava and Alexi a look. "Great, so I'm stuck in the backseat with the gas factory," he groused.

"It's not my fault I eat well!" the Russian boar shot back defensively as the trio made their way into the night, their thoughts never straying too far from what could be befalling Bucky wherever he was being kept...

Against the dosage of tranq-induced grogginess, stirringly, his jowelly-bristled snout twitched over icier coldness of ebon-granite flooring that numbingly anchored him into dozier-laden throes as he registered the vise-clamping heaviness of a titanium collar fastened over the flabbiness of his thickened neck. Floppily, his pointer-spade ears rapted on conscious tenor as he groaningly eased the puffier furriness of his globby cheek, beadily flitting his mesmeric aquamarine ireses open against the noose-like pressure that gripped him down. Chuffing a oinkier breath, feverishly, Bucky dragged his stubbed-cloven hooves as he weightily levered himself up against a head-rush, snuffling a potent-musky fragrance-a decadent Itailansque perfume that suffocatingly enwreathed him. "Urgh...What the hell..."

The room swam in his hazy vision, the fog of disorientation slowly giving way to a clear focus of his surroundings. The cleanly polished floors, the high-rise panoramic windows that offered a skyline view of Manhattan, the scent of wealth and power gave way to the shape of Valentina lounging on her couch across from him. "Cozy, Congressman Barnes?" Valentina's voice purred with a sardonic tone. Her thin lips curled into a smug smile as she took a sip from her drink. "Its like I said, the suit and tie wasn't really your style. But you didn't listen, now you'll fit in with all the other pigs in Senate Committee. You've truly embraced your inner swine."

As the heckling pitch of her tinny-like voice maliciously underlined her imperious decorum, snortily, Bucky jutted up his curvier-blunt tusks on defensive accord, frustratedly knowing that he was a hamstrung extension of her barnyard tableau of political- odyssey-levelled mayhem. Staving off the residual drowsiness that hazily bleared his porcine vision, draggingly he attempted to waddle, only to be gaspingly floored by an electric-tasering pulse of voltage radiating from his titanium collar as Valantina gripped onto a key-fob device-a EMP remote that activated the bone-searing zapage that agonizingly forced him to emit a guttural full-blown squeal. "Reeppp...Reeeppp!"

"I wouldn't get too strenuous if I were you," Valentina said with a dry look while cradling the remote in her hand. "My associate here tells me even though you've changed, it seems your super-soldier serum is still pumping strong in that flabby tub of yours. You can call that nice little leash around your neck my insurance. If you're thinking of trampling me under your hooves, ZAP!," Valentina hissed with a cruel smile. "If you try damaging my designer furniture, its a ZAP. If you so much as poop on my floor its a-"

"Zap, I get it," Bucky grunted with thinly concealed anger in his voice.

"If you're done amusing yourself, Ms. De'Fontaine, I want my next payment," Poindexter said from his silent post beside the bar.

"Your work isn't finished here, Benjamin," Valentina said with a piercing gaze directed at him. "You brought me my trophy, but not confirmation that the other three are dead. If you want your full payment, you still have some finagling to do."

As he oinkishly vented out a throatier grunt of his amplified frustration revving through the blubbery doughiness of his globous underbelly, stumblingly, Bucky wavered on clumsier traction, aware of the electroshock remote she malignantly flaunted with a viperious smirk witchily quirking over her thinner lips. "Y-You think M' gonna...snrtt... roll over for you..." he snorted, derisively, fixing his beadier gaze onto a Grock 17mm that was holstered on Dex's muscled flank as he watched the defective-psychotc FBI agent readily poise his gloved hand for a dead-shot reckoning of mechanized prescion as he marked the countness on his terminating checklist. "Y-You think playin' Circe will stop you from goin' to the Raft..." Valantina arched up her eyebrow with rapted perplexity. "Yeah...I read the Odyssey back into the 1930s... Gotta say, turnin' people into fat hams is kinda not your style..."

Valentina's stiff smile turned into a venomous sneer. "An apt comparison, Barnes. But while Circe used her talents to turn men into swine just for kicks. My goals are much more purer than hers. Simple old-fashioned revenge. And you have no idea, just what I'll do to obtain it." A tense silence followed before she fixed Bullseye with a shrewd look. "What the hell are you still doing here? Get back out there and finish your job, or Mayor Fisk is gonna get a useful tip on where you hang up your guns at night."

Poindexter's gaze became hard with anger, having nothing more to say as he turned on his heels and made his way for the elevator. He made a mental note in his vindictive mind to pay Valentina another visit once this job was over. He'd have a bullet with her name on it.

Registering the murderous aura of Dex's cold-blooded rabidity vanishingly dissipating around him, glaringly, Bucky flashed the cool smokiness of his beadier aqueous ireses at the EMP remote tauntingly placed near a half-emptied martini glass as Valantinia haughtily popped the speared olive in her mouth. Hinging on reserves of his tenacious Brooklyn spirit, he jiggily plodded on his stubbier hooves with laggered waddling a breadth near the pararomic window, grimacingly, he pinched his beady eyes shut against 'glorp' the flabby blubberiness as he eased down his chunkier backside with a sourish grunt. "Your..groink... little plan will go south...All those recovered files of Project Sentry will be in Congressman Gary's hands...snrrk... at the second Ava Starr hits the send button..." he oinked with a snorf pitch, murmurously, angling the bristled moistness of his wedge-out snout on defiant accord. "Changin' my pals with your barnyard makeover won't stop them...They won't give up the fight."

[spintly-co]

Top Biometric Machine Brands in India for Attendance Tracking

In today’s fast-paced business environment, tracking employee attendance efficiently is critical for operational productivity and compliance. Traditional manual registers and swipe cards are prone to buddy punching, manual errors, and administrative delays, which cost businesses time and money. This is why organizations across India are adopting biometric devices to automate attendance tracking, improve accountability, and enhance workforce management.

A biometric device uses unique physiological or behavioral traits such as fingerprints, facial patterns, or iris scans to verify identities accurately and quickly. With biometric attendance systems, businesses can reduce time theft, eliminate proxy attendance, and seamlessly integrate attendance data with HR and payroll systems for accurate processing.

If your business is planning to invest in a biometric attendance solution, knowing the top biometric machine brands in India can help you make an informed decision aligned with your organization’s size, needs, and compliance requirements.

Why Choose a Biometric Device for Attendance Tracking?

A biometric device for attendance offers:

✅ Accurate attendance logging: No scope for proxy attendance or buddy punching. ✅ Faster processing: Employees can clock in and out within seconds. ✅ Enhanced security: Only authorized personnel can mark attendance. ✅ Integration with HRMS and payroll: Automates leave management and salary calculations. ✅ Compliance readiness: Ensures proper record-keeping for audits and labor law adherence.

These advantages have made biometric devices an integral part of modern HR and operations management for businesses across sectors.

Top Biometric Machine Brands in India for 2025

Here is a look at leading brands providing biometric devices in India, known for reliability, scalability, and advanced features:

1️⃣ Spintly

Spintly offers modern, cloud-based biometric devices designed for attendance management and access control, focusing on seamless integration and scalability. Spintly’s devices enable touchless facial recognition and smartphone-based authentication, providing flexibility in a hybrid work environment.

Key Features:

Cloud-connected biometric device for real-time tracking

Mobile-based attendance and access control

Integration with HR and payroll systems

Scalability for multi-location businesses

Touchless, hygienic authentication options

Spintly’s IoT-based architecture reduces dependency on heavy on-premise hardware, making it ideal for organizations looking to modernize their attendance management with a secure, user-friendly biometric device.

2️⃣ eSSL

eSSL is a well-known brand in India, offering a wide range of biometric devices for attendance management. Their fingerprint and facial recognition devices are popular in SMEs and large enterprises alike.

Key Features:

Variety of fingerprint and face recognition options

RFID card integration for multi-authentication

Offline and online attendance tracking

Budget-friendly devices for small businesses

eSSL’s range of biometric devices offers reliable attendance management with basic reporting and integration capabilities.

3️⃣ ZKTeco

ZKTeco provides robust biometric devices with advanced security features, supporting fingerprint, facial, and palm vein recognition.

Key Features:

Multi-modal biometric device options

Fast processing and high accuracy

Temperature detection and mask detection capabilities (in select models)

Suitable for medium to large enterprises

ZKTeco’s biometric devices are valued for their sturdy hardware, making them suitable for high-traffic environments.

4️⃣ Matrix COSEC

Matrix offers a comprehensive range of biometric devices for attendance and access control, with a focus on enterprise-grade security and advanced integration.

Key Features:

Fingerprint and palm vein recognition devices

Real-time attendance monitoring

Advanced analytics and reporting

Integration with third-party HRMS and payroll systems

Matrix COSEC solutions are ideal for large enterprises with complex attendance and compliance needs.

5️⃣ Mantra Softech

Mantra offers reliable biometric devices for attendance tracking using fingerprint and iris recognition.

Key Features:

Compact, durable devices

UIDAI-certified biometric devices for Aadhaar-enabled attendance systems

Cost-effective solutions for government and educational institutions

Mantra’s devices are known for their compliance readiness, making them suitable for public sector and education segments.

Features to Look for When Choosing a Biometric Device

While selecting a biometric device for attendance tracking, consider the following features:

✅ Type of Biometric Authentication: Fingerprint, facial recognition, iris scan, or palm vein, depending on your security and hygiene requirements. ✅ Cloud Connectivity: Devices with cloud integration enable real-time tracking and central management, perfect for multi-location businesses. ✅ Speed and Accuracy: The device should authenticate quickly while maintaining high accuracy. ✅ Integration Capability: Look for devices that can integrate seamlessly with your HRMS and payroll systems to automate your attendance workflows. ✅ Touchless Options: Post-pandemic, touchless biometric devices are preferred for hygiene and user convenience. ✅ Data Security: The device should support encryption and comply with data protection regulations to ensure the safety of employee information. ✅ Ease of Maintenance and Support: Choose brands that offer strong post-sales support, firmware updates, and troubleshooting assistance.

Trends to Watch in Biometric Devices for Attendance

As we move further into 2025, biometric devices continue to evolve with trends such as:

✅ Touchless Biometrics: Facial recognition and mobile-based authentication are becoming preferred options in hybrid workplaces. ✅ Cloud-Enabled Devices: Brands like Spintly are leading the move toward cloud-connected biometric systems, reducing on-premise hardware costs while enabling centralized monitoring. ✅ Integration with Visitor Management Systems: Organizations are leveraging biometric devices not just for employee attendance but also for secure visitor management and access control. ✅ AI-Powered Accuracy: AI integration is enhancing the accuracy of facial recognition systems, making them resilient to lighting and environmental variations. ✅ Data Privacy Focus: As privacy regulations evolve, secure biometric devices that support encrypted data storage and GDPR/DPDP compliance are gaining importance.

Investing in the Right Biometric Device for Attendance

Selecting the right biometric device is a critical decision for your organization, impacting security, compliance, and operational efficiency. With brands like Spintly, eSSL, ZKTeco, Matrix COSEC, and Mantra offering diverse options in India, businesses can choose a solution that aligns with their size, growth plans, and compliance needs.

If your goal is to simplify attendance tracking while improving workplace security and ensuring a seamless experience for your employees, adopting a biometric device is a forward-looking investment. Explore cloud-enabled biometric solutions like Spintly to future-proof your workforce management while reducing administrative burdens.

Ready to transition to smart, scalable, and secure attendance tracking with advanced biometric devices? Explore Spintly’s solutions here to elevate your attendance management system to the next level.

[seokhan6666]

Virtual Presence Robots

Service Robots - SIFSOF

A service robot autonomously operates through an inbuilt control system which you can manually overruled whenever needed.Service robots can

Exploring the Future with Virtual Presence and Virtual Presence Robots

Reimagining Connectivity Through Virtual Presence and Virtual Presence Robots

In a world where borders blur and time zones matter less, Virtual Presence is revolutionizing how we connect, collaborate, and communicate. As businesses expand globally and remote work becomes the norm, people are increasingly turning to innovative solutions to “be there” without physically being present. This is where Virtual Presence and Virtual Presence Robots step in, bridging gaps and bringing people closer in surprisingly human ways.

The Rise of Virtual Presence in Everyday Life

From corporate boardrooms to classrooms, Virtual Presence is no longer a futuristic concept—it's a present-day reality. It empowers individuals to attend meetings, teach classes, offer support, or simply maintain a social connection without geographic limitations. Whether you're a CEO joining a conference in Tokyo from your home office in Berlin, or a doctor consulting with patients across continents, the possibilities are limitless.

Virtual Presence Robots, designed to navigate physical spaces while being controlled remotely, take this interaction one step further. These machines often come with cameras, microphones, and screens, allowing users to interact naturally within any environment. They’re more than tools—they’re digital avatars that extend human capability across distances.

How Virtual Presence Robots Are Changing the Game

The charm of Virtual Presence Robots lies in their versatility. In education, they enable students who are hospitalized or otherwise homebound to participate in class as if they were physically present. In healthcare, doctors use them to make rounds or consult in areas they can't physically reach in time. In business, they are reshaping how global teams engage, making face-to-face interactions not only possible but effortless.

Imagine a museum tour led by a remote guide or a job interview conducted by a candidate walking the office halls through a robotic interface. These scenarios are not only plausible but already in play across the globe. The human touch, long thought irreplaceable, is finding new expression through these high-tech helpers.

The Technology Behind the Magic

What makes all this possible? Advanced AI, seamless internet connectivity, and user-friendly interfaces. Most Virtual Presence Robots are Wi-Fi enabled and equipped with sensors for obstacle detection, ensuring smooth movement. Some even include autonomous navigation and facial recognition, making interactions more intuitive and personalized.

While still evolving, this technology continues to break barriers, blending convenience with real-time interaction. More companies are investing in making these robots more affordable, durable, and intelligent—hinting at a future where remote presence might become the standard rather than the exception.

Why Virtual Presence is More Than a Trend

As digital transformation accelerates, embracing Virtual Presence isn’t just about staying ahead—it’s about staying connected. It reflects our desire to transcend limits and maintain meaningful interactions, even from afar. Whether in professional, educational, or personal contexts, the potential of these technologies is only beginning to unfold.

In the coming years, Virtual Presence Robots will likely become as common as video calls are today. They represent a fusion of convenience and connection, helping us be there—wherever “there” may be.

Visit Here :- https://sifsof.com/service-robots/

[aryacollegeofengineering]

From Classroom to Code: Real-World Projects Every Computer Science Student Should Try

One of the best colleges in Jaipur, which is Arya College of Engineering & I.T. They transitioning from theoretical learning to hands-on coding is a crucial step in a computer science education. Real-world projects bridge this gap, enabling students to apply classroom concepts, build portfolios, and develop industry-ready skills. Here are impactful project ideas across various domains that every computer science student should consider:

Web Development

Personal Portfolio Website: Design and deploy a website to showcase your skills, projects, and resume. This project teaches HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and optionally frameworks like React or Bootstrap, and helps you understand web hosting and deployment.

E-Commerce Platform: Build a basic online store with product listings, shopping carts, and payment integration. This project introduces backend development, database management, and user authentication.

Mobile App Development

Recipe Finder App: Develop a mobile app that lets users search for recipes based on ingredients they have. This project covers UI/UX design, API integration, and mobile programming languages like Java (Android) or Swift (iOS).

Personal Finance Tracker: Create an app to help users manage expenses, budgets, and savings, integrating features like OCR for receipt scanning.

Data Science and Analytics

Social Media Trends Analysis Tool: Analyze data from platforms like Twitter or Instagram to identify trends and visualize user behavior. This project involves data scraping, natural language processing, and data visualization.

Stock Market Prediction Tool: Use historical stock data and machine learning algorithms to predict future trends, applying regression, classification, and data visualization techniques.

Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning

Face Detection System: Implement a system that recognizes faces in images or video streams using OpenCV and Python. This project explores computer vision and deep learning.

Spam Filtering: Build a model to classify messages as spam or not using natural language processing and machine learning.

Cybersecurity

Virtual Private Network (VPN): Develop a simple VPN to understand network protocols and encryption. This project enhances your knowledge of cybersecurity fundamentals and system administration.

Intrusion Detection System (IDS): Create a tool to monitor network traffic and detect suspicious activities, requiring network programming and data analysis skills.

Collaborative and Cloud-Based Applications

Real-Time Collaborative Code Editor: Build a web-based editor where multiple users can code together in real time, using technologies like WebSocket, React, Node.js, and MongoDB. This project demonstrates real-time synchronization and operational transformation.

IoT and Automation

Smart Home Automation System: Design a system to control home devices (lights, thermostats, cameras) remotely, integrating hardware, software, and cloud services.

Attendance System with Facial Recognition: Automate attendance tracking using facial recognition and deploy it with hardware like Raspberry Pi.

Other Noteworthy Projects

Chatbots: Develop conversational agents for customer support or entertainment, leveraging natural language processing and AI.

Weather Forecasting App: Create a user-friendly app displaying real-time weather data and forecasts, using APIs and data visualization.

Game Development: Build a simple 2D or 3D game using Unity or Unreal Engine to combine programming with creativity.

Tips for Maximizing Project Impact

Align With Interests: Choose projects that resonate with your career goals or personal passions for sustained motivation.

Emphasize Teamwork: Collaborate with peers to enhance communication and project management skills.

Focus on Real-World Problems: Address genuine challenges to make your projects more relevant and impressive to employers.

Document and Present: Maintain clear documentation and present your work effectively to demonstrate professionalism and technical depth.

Conclusion

Engaging in real-world projects is the cornerstone of a robust computer science education. These experiences not only reinforce theoretical knowledge but also cultivate practical abilities, creativity, and confidence, preparing students for the demands of the tech industry.

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