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Jul. 16th, 2016

starmaki: Metal Arm (dangerous)
This was for week 14 for mcuflashmeme: a story from a villain’s perspective.

Darren Cross gets no love. lol I loved his villianous ways in Ant-Man so thought I'd do a quick little introspective piece on him. No warnings but Darren being Darren. I had a tiny bit more to this, but it didn't quite fit, so might add it later or not. Okay, onward!


Darren Cross was having a good day. When he got off the phone to the Hydra reps, he was smiling. He was going to get the contract to further develop the military applications to the Pym particle. And now the 'Yellowjacket' project was a green light. His foot tapped under his desk, fingers drumming a bright, little beat. The nervous, happy, energy was barely contained. He was so giddy with joy, he decided to spurge and order that venti caramel macchiato frappuccino, double shot, extra whip, he'd was saving to savor for this special occasion.

Darren also had a date with Hope. Not the romantic kind, but that would change, as he did enjoy her company. It wasn't that he didn't know she was a backstabbing traitor; it's just he found it amusing that she thought she could fool him. He rather enjoyed the little 'cat and mouse' game they shared. The tinkle in her eyes, the pursed lips, the tiny flip of her sleek hair as she came up with another lie. It was positively delightful. Relationships were made on less, and it was a steady building block to work upon. The flirty lies. And also she was a good listener and oh so lovely to look at. So all in all, good company to celebrate with. He'd arranged an intimate dinner for two at the Blue Room.

Maybe, maybe, well, it was a bit soon--he wanted to marry her. It was either that or kill her, but she was still a valued employee, talented, sharp, and legs that went on for miles. So no, marrying was the first opinion in his book. Instead, he'd kill her father, Henry. But not until he could finally, finally once and for all, let him know what a mistake he made in not telling him all his secrets. He was his son after all. Not in the biological sense, but everything else. Henry Pym was a genius as so was he.

And isn't it logical sense, that the prodigy, (or was that protégé?), the one carefully groomed since Henry met him, to have it all? By rights, it was his, the company, the patents, the projects. He now surpassed the old man. And wasn't it fitting that the young rise up to sweep away the old? He'd like to keep him around to pick his brain more, but more so to see him broken. A broken old man because he grew to be the superior offspring.

They were alike, but instead of being proud of him, Henry looked like he wanted to spit on his shoes. Darren did keep his portrait in the lobby-- what more could he want?

So no, he decided after the announcement and after the wedding, he'd kill Henry Pym, because it will finally be enough. He'd have his daughter, Hope. It wasn't incestuous in anyway, really. They were not blood. Besides, weren't all kings and queens related in some way? Incestuous cousins, aunts and uncles, whole dynasties. So it was like a takeover of a country and Hope the spoils of war--a war bride. And he the conqueror, and that suited him just fine.

Darren leaned back in his chair and smiled. His frappuccino had arrive and he took a sip--perfect.
starmaki: Bucky (buck)
This was for week 16 for mcuflashmeme: A story that begins with a gunshot.

This scene was for my Bluebird fic I wrote last year, but it somehow, for one reason or another, never ended up in the fic. The rough draft of this scene was still written out in my notebook. I have been meaning to add some "timestamps" to that fic, missing scenes, so here is one.^_^ The title is a little silly, but I got stuck on it. I mean to change it later, maybe.

So the setting is the Bluebird fic (though it can be understood without reading that fic). World War 2. CATFA. Characters: Bucky Barnes, Gabe Jones and Steve Rogers. POV Bucky. Warnings of Graphic Depictions Of Violence and Angst. PTSD. Swearing. Oh and a tiny touch of humor.

'Baker Needs Sugar'

The story started with a gunshot...

Mouth grim, eyes narrowing to slits, Bucky squeezed the trigger. The heavy .45 kicked in his left hand, but he steady it, aiming and firing again and again. The sharp bark of the pistol echoed in the semi-abandoned factory. Each bullet finding its target. The impact knocking the Hydra soldiers clean off their feet. One just folded down, a puppet cut off his strings, face half gone.

Bucky fired until his gun was empty and swiftly reloaded as he walked further down the hallway past the dead and nearly dead twitching bodies. He didn’t look down at the pools of blood or retch at the acid smell of piss. He didn’t notice the decaying walls, rusting machines, a dead factory with more unmourned death to lie in this place forgotten for all time. He didn’t notice, didn’t want to notice, yet it all leaked in his brain anyhow to settle in like a festering boil.

He neared a set of heavy double doors with yards of chain looping the sliding bar to close and lock it. Fuck… Bucky took a deep breath and let out the building tension in his muscles, his lungs breathing in the dust, oil and metal of the factory. He got out his radio to call it in.

“Sugar, this is Baker, over.” Bucky said in a low voice. He kept searching for any movement around him as he spoke. He didn’t know how sneaky the bastards were. They haven’t been so far, but he didn’t want a bullet in the back from dropping his guard.

“Baker, what’s the status, over,” Steve’s voice came after a burst of static that jangled Bucky’s nerves.

“Need assistance with a heavy hatch, send Sugar, over.”

Bucky allowed himself a quiet chuckle at their phonetic call names. Oh, yes Baker would like some Sugar. Steve wasn’t fond of his code name Bucky christened him with, but fuck it if he’d use Roger. Too confusing. So he was Baker and Steve was Sugar. It made perfect sense to him. Also he liked to rib Steve. Their wasn’t much fun in the war zone, so of course he was going to be an ass sometimes.

“Roger. Sugar and two. Wilco, over,” Steve said.

“Roger. Baker, out.” He put the radio away, before standing guard. Bucky’s finger ghosting his gun’s trigger, a phantom stroke, a hair from touching, as he paced back and forth, body a live wire, as he waited for Steve and two others to break the door down.

Because, yes, maybe—maybe, he could bend that thick heavy chain himself. Not in the past, but now? After escaping Zola? What was terrifying him was the implications of ‘what if he could’. And he didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to think. So he pushed it down in a little dark place in his mind where he kept all his fears and secrets. And hoped it would just stay there.

Bucky heard Gabe Jones’ Thompson firing in the near distance, clearing out another corridor. The bullets spat out in a blaring rattle that rang in his head. The Thompson signature sound a welcome and recognizing mark of Gabe. Like a fingerprint.

“Sarge…” The name pushed out of Gabe’s breath as he jogged up to Bucky’s side. “Well, shit!” His eyes bugged out at the thick chains on the door.

“Exactly, what I thought,” Bucky said, giving a small smirk.

“Wonder what’s so important to have it locked up like that?” Jones gestured with his gun to the heavy door.

Bucky shrugged. “Fuck if I know, but we’ll find out as soon as Rogers’ hauls his ass up here.”

Bucky licked his dry lips. Dammit, a cigarette would taste so good right now. He had a whole pack of Wings begging to be opened in his pocket. Not his favorite brand, but he wanted at add another card to his collection. And the nicotine would smooth his nerves. Each hidden Hydra facility or location they found lead to more mystery and more questions. And another facility. The harder they squeezed and stomped on them, the more they found. Like ants, they were everywhere. But he was determined to eliminate each one; he just hoped that he would live long enough to step on that one last ant and be done with it and go home.


starmaki: Vincent (Default)

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