Remorse

Remorse

By Eirlyssa Card Number: 3022 Link: Can be read below or on Ao3. Square Filled: R5 - Writing format: first person for the @tonystarkbingo Ship/Main Pairing: N/A Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post Civil War, Steve Rogers Critical, Steve Rogers POV, Civil War Team Iron Man, Drabble Summary: Steve thinks about the Civil War and its aftermath. It's not what he had expected. Word Count: 100

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At first, I didn’t regret the ‘Civil War’. The consequences of it, perhaps, but not my actions. While I realized I could have gone about things better, looking back, I still believed I had done the right thing.

Except despite taking a stance, it seemed like no one was listening. I had told the world to move, and it did move. Right past me.

Once more, it felt like the world was changing without me, leaving me behind and feeling utterly lost. Except this time, I was there to see it happen.

Had there really not been a better way?

My first real animation

(ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

Took me way too long but hey its done!

Tony and Bucky having a coffee date after classes!

@tonystarkbingo

Square: S4 - MIT Years Card Number: 3087

winter iron and 9??

9. Things you said when I was crying - Winteriron

The drugs wear off gently, like rousing from a dream Bucky didn’t even know he was under. It’s a nice feeling, if not a bit confusing.

There’s a terrifying moment where he thinks he’s back in one of Hydra’s bunkers; lying back on that operating table, and he wants to struggle against the restraints they had around his wrists, but the lethargy overwhelms his limbs like he’s wadding through molasses.

Comprehension moves just as slowly, and it takes him hours to realize that he’s not on an operating table at all, but in a chair. It’s reclined a little, and the thing in front of him isn’t the ceiling, it’s a wall made of glass, and through it is Tony.

Bucky doesn’t know how he knows the man’s name, or who he is to Bucky, but he dismisses this as unimportant.

The man, Tony, is handsome. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s wearing a suit, and chatting to someone in a white coat. Whatever the man in the white coat is saying, it’s making Tony smile. Even from this distance, Bucky can make out the dimple digging into Tony’s cheek; the soft unruliness of his hair.

He’s so pretty, Bucky thinks, feeling strangely overwhelmed by a sudden, complete sort of fondness; the kind that aches in a heartbreaking kind of intimacy, a softness that Bucky feels he doesn’t deserve but is too selfish to give up.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Bucky sniffs, startled to find that he’s crying and that Tony is suddenly beside him, dimple gone and expression concerned. And Bucky finds himself berefit because Tony isn’t smiling anymore and it’s all Bucky’s fault.

Blinking back tears, Bucky complains, “You looked so happy.”

Understanding steals the concern quickly which doesn’t surprise Bucky in the least because Tony’s smart, he’s the smartest person Bucky knows, he’s certain of it.

With a gentle smile, Tony reaches over to brush his knuckle gently over Bucky’s cheek to catch his tears, and coos, “I’m happy to know your surgery went well.”

“It did,” Bucky sniffs even though he doesn’t remember what the surgery was for or that he’d even had it done. Tony’s happy and that’s what matters.

“You did great, babe,” Tony continues soothingly.

“Babe,” Bucky repeats, awed, and Tony’s smile widens by increments when Bucky asks, “I’m your babe?”

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, yeah you are.”

Hopeful, Bucky ventures, “And you’re… you’re my…fella?”

“Sometimes,” he allows, and there’s a twinkle in his eye and a rosy tint to his cheeks. “Sometimes I’m you’re darling or your sweet thing, or your doll.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “You’re all of that for me?”

“Well, you certainly don’t have anyone else,” Tony says with an indignant huff that isn’t actually indignant because he winks. “I’m not the sharing type.”

“So-so you’re all mine?” Bucky stutters, and he’s blinking rapidly because he can feel his eyes grow hot.

Tony takes his weepiness in stride, cupping his cheeks and using his thumbs to brush away at the tears that escape before pressing their foreheads together, Tony confirms in a murmur, “All yours, handsome.”

Bucky rubs his nose against Tony, something Tony delights in with the way he returns the favour with relish. With that action alone, something inside Bucky’s chest burst, and he’s moving his still molasses-heavy limbs around Tony, and asking, “Have I told you that I love you yet? Because I do.”

At that, Tony’s breath catches, and the gold of his eyes put every sunset to shame. “You haven’t,” which makes Bucky both sad and angry at himself, a fact that Tony shushes with another rub of their noses, and a decree of, “Tell me again when the anesthesia wears off, okay?”

“I still love you even with the anesthesia,” is Bucky’s petulant reply.

Tony just chuckles.

Tony Starks superpower is his undying ability to love selflessly. To be so passionate about everyone around him, his emotional vulnerability and his need to protect and take responsibility for the world.

Oh! Also his mind, I guess.

tonytonytonytonytonytonytonytonytonytonytony!!!!!!!!!