#anyway I am mildly obsessed and significantly fascinated by all this

[waela]

The most fascinating thing to me about the current aimros arc

Is realising that tr!Aimsey came back wrong, and is acting a lot like tr!Ros (cheerful, extra-energetic + the boops that they definitely didn't use to do before, "what a day to be alive", sudden bloodthirst where before they were the one talking tr!Ros out of murdering)

And at the same time, tr!Ros is acting a lot like tr!Aimsey (more subdued, quieter, almost lethargic + now poisoning themselves, a very un-Ros-like behaviour but a very Aimsey-like one, suddenly zero interest in killing people to get respect to the point of feeling a bit bad about killing Owen)

And without tr!Aimsey's behaviour, it'd be easy to write off the way tr!Ros is acting to grief (I certainly did to begin with)

But hey, remember that life transfer?

I can't help but wonder if something more than just a life was transferred.

[aslightstep]

Hi, I just saw that you are taking writing prompts. I wonder if you could do number 9. with Tony/T'Challa (preferably post CW)? That would be amazing, thank you.

Oh lights go down in the moment we’re lost and found/I just wanna be by your side/If these wings could fly

Song is:

Wings

Tony took his hand, leading him away from the others. They watched the two pass, some stepping aside when needed, but T’Challa kept his eyes on Tony. “Play a game with me?” Tony asked, and T’Challa replied: “What kind?”

“Stress test for the brain, kitty cat. Can’t let a mind like that go to waste. We’ll call it ‘Remember When?’”

They emerged from the war room that had survived the helicarrier’s crash out into the blood-red evening sky. It was quiet tonight; T’Challa was no longer use to it and he treasured it now. He could hear every breath moving in and out of Tony’s body so clearly. He counted them, every one, held them close and Tony closer as they began the long walk. “Alright,” he agreed after a long moment when Tony seemed to slip a bit on the exposed struts, overbalanced by his burden. “I’ll play.”

Tony grinned, and they both ignored the wobble to it. “That’s my guy. Alright. Remember when….we first met?”

“1997. You were twenty-seven and I was twelve. Shuri and I had traveled with our parents to Germany. You were giving a conference on robotics. I snuck out of my hotel room to see you.” Because Tony Stark had been brilliant, even back then, and T’Challa had been fascinated. “You were half-drunk and still managed to answer every question.” He had been impressed. And mildly disgusted. Tony Stark had glowed so bright.

“He is a candle burning at both ends,” T’Challa had relayed miserably to his father when he and his sister were inevitably tracked down and dragged back to the Embassy. T’Chaka had somehow viewed that lesson enough, and they never spoke of it again.

“That’s the first time you saw me, Lion-O, not when we first met,” Tony admonished him in the present. “Now I’m officially worried. Do I need to send you back to Van Dyne to get your head scanned?”

“I am not leaving you,” T’Challa said firmly, and Tony’s teasing smirk slid away. T’Challa sighed. “2016, Germany. The Accords. Leipzig, with the others. You were still in the red and gold then.” Iron Man had fought brighter and more brilliantly then any one else that day, and when he looked back on those interminable gray days after his father died what he remembered was flashes of red and gold against a too-blue sky.

“Aw. Do I hear nostalgia in your voice?” Tony glanced down at his body, covered up by the sleek, black stealth suit that was Mark 76. Born just two days ago, from blood, smoke, and tears - and a part of T’Challa’s heart. “Can’t blame you. I miss it, too. Your turn, T.”

T’Challa pursed his lips, thinking. A smile - hadn’t he thought just last night that he would never smile again? - curled his lips. “Remember when you first visited Wakanda?”

“Oh, God,” Tony groaned. “On that half-baked mission to bring back Steve and his Merry Men? I was so surprised that you just let me touch down-”

“You didn’t speak the language,” T’Challa remembered with a grin.

“And your delightful countrymen led me on a chase for three days. I just wanted to talk to you but nope! Go wander in the jungle for three days, Stark, maybe the king will deign to rescue you from the panthers.”

“You didn’t need rescuing,” he replied with a chuckle. He began to like this game. It was so Tony. A smile to the last. “Perhaps a lesson.”

“On my overbearing ego. Believe it or not, loverboy, you were not the first one to try to drill that into my head.”

“Patience, Tony. The lesson was patience.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, with a smile that turned salacious. “Well, you figured out better ways to teach me that, didn’t you?”

They came to the end of the broken metal and made the jump down the street below, Tony using his thrusters so the landing would jumble his precious cargo. The streets were littered with craters and parts, machine and alien and human alike. Scott Lang and Wanda Maximoff were down here still, somewhere.

“Remember when we first got to talk? No bullshit, just you and me?” Tony asked, and T’Challa tilted his head, searching out his lover’s face for a clue to this specific memory. They had had many conversations in those early months, and every one carved a new special place for itself in T’Challa’s mind. Tony was grimacing a little, and something clicked.

“You mean the first time we fought?” he asked, near disbelieving. “Only you, Tony…” But it was the first time he had seen Tony Stark drop his masks, his ‘overbearing ego’, and let T’Challa see the vulnerable man underneath.

He had just been so tired of fixing the Accords, tired of running up against Tony as a roadblock when for all intents and purposes they were supposed to working together. Every time mention of Steve’s team came up, Tony would turn away.

“Are you truly so obsessed with your own image, so prideful that you can no longer see what is the greater good?” he had finally snapped after cornering Tony alone in a conference room in Austria.

“I’m fighting for the greater good right here and now, same as you, Panther King, so you can drop the high and mighty act,” Tony had snarled.

“No. You are fighting for yourself.” And Tony had physically jerked back out of his grip. “You know we need the Captain and the others, yet you continued to block their return-”

“No, I’m simply not aiding it! They want to come back then they can damn well come back and speak for themselves because I am done doing the dirty jobs for them.”

“We need them!” T’Challa had insisted, and something in Tony’s eyes had broken. He did not realize how dark the other man’s eyes were until that moment, when cracks of light began to appear as he let loose.

He screamed at T’Challa, about betrayal, and trust, and teamwork. About family, and how the Avengers were not one. That Tony could not forgive them, could not let it be okay, because that would be mean that they got away with it, were even rewarded. That Tony wanted nothing more than to forgive, anyway.

“You told me the choice to end my suffering had always been mine,” Tony whispered, coming to stop in front of Stark Tower, staring up at the ruined remains of the physical embodiment of his legacy. “I needed to hear that. Never thanked you for it.”

“You are welcome,” T’Challa said, dragging Tony’s gauntlet up to press a kiss to it. He managed a smile. “Remember when we kissed for the first time?”

Tony rolled his eyes, playful. His hand trembled in T’Challa’s. “How could I forget? Never had a guy stage a private dinner and a moonlit stroll just for one kiss.”

“You deserved it,” T’Challa said, remember how Tony’s hair had gone oddly silver in the moonlight, how he’d given in to the urge to run his fingers through it. “You were worth it. Always.” He delivered the last word as a whisper to Tony’s palm before dropping it as they both turned towards the Tower. The first few floors were ruined, blocking access, but T’Challa wanted - needed - to take his time.

Tony turned to him with a grin that faded quickly from his eyes. “Remember when I took you flying?”

T’Challa stepped close in response, one foot on Tony’s boot as the suit boosted them up. That first time had been significantly more exciting than this, Tony taking them high above the jungles, twisting and twirling and even dropping T’Challa every once and awhile before catching him. They had kissed at 2000 feet of open air and he had never felt more alive.

Now, Tony touched down at the 18th floor and led T’Challa inside towards the elevator. “Tony, there’s no power-” T’Challa protested, but Tony just smiled, holding one finger to his lips.

“Elevator makes its own electricity,” he confessed as they slid into the box. Indeed, the buttons lit up when Tony’s pressed one and they began their ascent. “Me and…me and Pepper. We. We were gonna market it. Stark’s next billion. Before.”

Before. When the sky was still blue and Japan still existed. When the only alien was Thor and the only thing that hung in the sky was the moon. 

When he and Tony had had the rest of their lives.

“Remember when we first made love?” T’Challa whispered. Tony doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. It had been slick and sweet and as unhurried as it had been unanticipated. A stolen evening with Tony in his palace, shut away from the world. He would give anything-

“Don’t,” Tony said, suddenly there against his lips, before he closed the distance. They kissed artlessly, mindful of the package cradled under one of Tony’s arms. “Remember when,” Tony breathed, kissing him between words. “When I told you I love you?”

“You made everything such a competition,” T’Challa said, pressing closer. Package be damned. They could ruin it now, and then Tony could never use it. “So proud of saying it first. Like I didn’t already know. Like I didn’t already love you. Like I hadn’t always.”

“Sweet talker,” Tony tried to tease, but it came out on a sob.

The elevator beeped. Roof access. The doors slid open. Tony pulled away, eyes remaining closed for a very long moment, before they opened and he stepped back, once more taking T’Challa’s hand, leading them out.

The sky was much lighter here. The atmospheric weapons Thanos’ forces had deployed had destroyed it months ago, not long after the first arrival. Still, it was strangely beautiful. 

“You’re here,” Bruce Banner breathed, coming towards them, eyes glued to Tony. “Tony…”

“Please don’t.”

Banner’s face fell. “I know. I - thank you.” They always said that, in the end. Others had raged and screamed at Tony, together and individually, but in the end, they always thanked him.

He would not send Rhodey. He would not risk Vision. And Thor would never make it to Thanos’ battle station undetected. 

It had to be Tony.

“Dimensional Trap, Tab A, as requested,” Tony said, handing the key piece of machinery he had carved from a Cosmic Cube and hidden these long months from Thanos’ ever expanding reach. “Never did come up with a snazzier name.”

“I’ll get it ready. You two-” Bruce looked between them, then down at their hands. “Take your time.” He walked away, towards where the rest of the parts, the more easily replaced ones, waited for assembly under Erik Selvig’s careful watch.

They turned to each other. “Remember when,” Tony began, but didn’t continue. He raised a hand, manipulating the suit until the gauntlet fell away, and traced T’Challa’s face carefully, as if memorizing it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he answered, voice breaking on every syllable. He wanted to beg, and scream, and cry. And he had. Every day since Tony revealed his plan one week ago to attach a dimensional drive to Thanos’ main ship, half phasing everything within a ten mile radius into another dimension until the sheer pull of reality tore it apart. A device that had to be placed and activated manually. 

This was not the time for that. This was the time to hold his lover close, absorb the trembling in his bones, and kiss his tears away. Later, there would be time for T’Challa’s grief. Now, they mourned Tony’s lost future.

“Remember when you saved the world?” T’Challa asked softly.

“I remember when we did,” Tony answered, and they smiled at each other.

“Tony,” Bruce called after what seemed like only a few seconds. He held up the fully assembled drive, his face lined with grief. “It’s time.” 

Tony nodded, and his helmet was sliding around his face. There was a long pause where T’Challa knew he was informing the Avengers down below of his departure, hearing their last well wishes and goodbyes, and then his hand slid out of T’Challa’s, metal wrapping around the digits, and walked towards Bruce.

Iron Man took the device in his hands. “I’m very scared,” he confessed, his voice sounding almost conversational through the comm line.

“I’m right here with you,” T’Challa promised, and the faceplate turned to him. “I won’t leave you.”

There was a pause, then a nod, then Iron Man blasted into the sky.

He didn’t know how long he had watched, long after Iron Man had disappeared from view, when Tony’s voice came over the line again. “Remember when we got married?”

“Tony, we never-” T’Challa began, before the words caught up to him. Tony’s game. A whimper escaped him as he slowly collapsed to the ground with his head in his hands. “Yes,” he whispered. “I remember.” 

“How did it go again?” Tony asked, a very thin thread of fear in his voice. “I’m getting old you know. Memory’s not what it used to be.”

“We…we had two. We had to. You became my - my consort,” T’Challa gasped. “We had a coronation. Then a smaller, private one in New York. Friends and family. We all came together.”

“Rhodey cried during his best man speech.”

“Peter ruined the cake. We didn’t mind. Vision had made it; we didn’t have the heart to tell him-”

“-how terrible it was,” Tony finished.

The sky above was a red haze through his tears. “Remember when we decided to start a family?”

“I-” Tony sucks in a harsh, surprised breath. “I still can’t believe they let us adopt.”

“We named her Maria.”

“And him T’Chaka. We - I was so scared I was gonna mess up, be a horrible dad, but we made out alright, didn’t we?”

T’Challa nodded, smiling around the cry in his throat. “We did. We did, Tony. We were happy. Content.”

“We grew up,” Tony said, words spilling out of him fast and messy now. “Got old. Raised the kids, the grandkids. We trained - trained new Avengers. Fuck. Fuck. I passed the suit on. You passed the crown. We. We. Jesus Christ - we retired. We were happy. Do you remember that, T’Challa? So happy. I never knew - remember? Remember when-”

The line cut out. Above them, a shock of black erupted in the red for several long seconds before disappearing. 

T’Challa jerked back in shock, then fell forward with a scream. “Tony?” he asked the line when his breath returned. There was no reply. “I remember, Tony,” he answered dead air. “I remember it all.”