#[ dis took MONTHS - tchalla so hard v-v ]

[ujimaarc]

"My king looks so very tired. It makes one wonder why he is not still asleep as he should be? The sun is hours from rising, love. Return to our bed?"

Science is T’Challa’s general weapon to doggedly question truths beyond his mortal coil. Almost akin to being exposed to a child’s metaphysical imagination, one would want to try to have their wonderment quelled with comprehensible justifications. Opulent Okoume trees circled a lake that seems to have millions of crushed diamonds captured across the surface. The sky was infinitely darker than the preceding noon in the frame of a goddess over red-and-green Wakandan cotton.

The very same frame that had taken the Panther chieftain’s corporeal picture and entangled him in her statuesque dimensions. Above, the stars mapped out the physique of those that took the Great Cat mantle before him versus their usual random spread.

The cat of worship never failed at bringing a mythical challenge to her avatar, much to his chagrin. Failing at entertaining herself by making him uneasy with his understanding of her supernatural naturality is a reality she’ll embrace whenever he chooses to allow it to come.

Through the surreal mist, gold eyes belonging to a twelve foot anthropomorphic bats in the interest of the direction where her nude king sat with company. In a circle made up of a litter of sleeping panther cubs, T'Challa’s amber eyes break from their adoration for the revered creatures and to the one he honored with every breath-take and choice he made towards the betterment of his country.

Time—as she can tell—as she already knew—brought about a welcomed change in T’Challa’s demeanor. Bast is accustomed to noticing his powerful muscles tensing in discomfort and the subtle shifts his jaws do when she spontaneously arranges for them to have their little talks. In this meeting, his composition is the warm radiance of a warrior that unearthed the greatest feeling he’ll ever know ( this time, he would have no qualms with his feline pantheon whisking him off without warning—and this she knew. This is why she sought him at his most vulnerable ).

Whilst entwined in a web of worship in the form of a storm held together by a solid sensuous darkness of her champion’s sinews, Bast patiently waited to converse until the flirtatious kisses ended; until desires to tame an insatiable animalistic hunger stilled; until pillow talk with respect to their longing for this intimate reciprocity ended in amber cat-eyes and oceanic eyes consumed with one another came down into a contented slumber.

“ I am happy for you, my son.” Her tone is thick-accented, flowing strong and finer than her people’s wine. “ I have conversed with your predecessor about the affairs of his heir’s heart—Wakanda’s Queen. Your father had been impregnated with the thought that you had foolishly deprived yourself of having and more importantly keeping romantic love in his life. I trust my champion is aware that T’Chaka wasn’t alone in the belief that his son had gone mad. ” The panther’s smile gives a slight peek into a maw full of imposing fangs. A maw that gradually assumes the full pink lips to her human design of an alluring midnight black woman. 

She kneels outside the cub circle and reaches over to caress her avatar’s cheek. Her palm’s warmth is comparable to how Queen Mother touched him. Her earthly musk intoxicated his senses and almost stirred him away from caring about the purpose of this unexpected meeting. Mention of his father concerns and the thought of Ororo snuggled against his form back in the real world necessitated his focus on the conversation.

“ There was a Burundian proverb that haunted my mind ever since I made the contumelious decision to break the greatest woman this world has led me to know. “Where there is love, there is no darkness.” ” Without needing to delve into the darkness that kept him engulfed ( for Bast has always known her champion’s trials and tribulations and will continue to know until his time is up and he is to join his ancestors ), he goes on to gently whisper,  “ The fault lies in no one but myself for influencing that impression. Embarrassingly enough, It took me longer than it should have to make, as they say, heads-and-tails, of my feelings and what was ultimately the right course of action to take. ”

“ —And after you finally followed your heart, you’re here,” Bast perceived. “ Now that you are, a part of you is in disbelief, virtually unable to comprehend that it’s a reality that the Wind Rider has given you the privilege of having her heart once more and that you two share the same bed once again. ” She fills their surroundings with syrupy laughter then. In ways, he is not the mid-thirty-year-old king of an unconquerable land, but a boy still learning about the ways of the world around. A fault not on him, for he is a mortal dealing with extraordinary mortal hardships, but an amusing one to observe nonetheless. “ Unlike the past chieftains of the Panther clan, you’re criminally harder on yourself—more than most your enemies. ”

It’s a truth she hasn’t admitted to him yet, but But bast enjoyed watching her representative put the elephantine puzzle pieces of his life together. Each piece that connected created a powerful layer that formed around the undying legend of the Great T’Challa, for as long as this Earth is never obliterated. It was only recently that he solidified that belief when he sought reconciliation with the herald of mutant-kind and won her over again.

T’Challa paused, became reflective—of his royal status and of Ororo. They came a long way. They were going a long way. He was able to be confident in that. She made that possible. He would like to call it… Kismit.

                                                  Flashing back…

Just yesterday night, the sliver of placid pine that underlines her sultry voice enticed him to join her in a dance that commands the attention of every Wakandan in attendance. Like a curious little boy, he only wished to shy amongst the audience and bare witness to the full sight of her curves in motion. To watch the entranced faces of those in the Royal Palace admire and appreciate she who ruled their king’s heart work her art form in a way they have never seen before. 

Her two identities—Kenyan and African-American—mixed with her own unnamed flavor delivered mysticism by her lonely, but she wanted to be joined—needed to be joined. By him. By the man that yearned for her to be back, by his side, as his love. She set her sights on him and merrily navigated her hypnotic rhythm his way, and pulled him to be united under the spotlight without resistance. How could he resist? Even his ancestor, Hu’Nahn The Defiant could understand his lovestruck successor’s fall. 

Their smiles were pliant to each other’s preciously-powered, cosmo-imbued propinquity. The luxurious world around them was lost, the two stepped in an enchanting rhythm, with each step building up a new universe around them. Having their fingers interlocked like they were put him in a bind of childish need and discipline. She spins like a miniature tornado ( one she free willingly allows him to have control of ) and his arm around her lower-back prevents her fall from his grace. There they found their eyes lost in their respective vibrantly-hued depths like children experiencing the cliche “love at first sight”, and wealthy fits of laughter would soon follow. She complimented his reaction time, then hit him with a threat that no one else could hear: if he had missed his cue and missed catching her, he would be in for a miserable night and none, not even his Dora Milaje would be able to save his hide.

His Highness made her aware that he has indeed been catching every cue tonight and how he intends on properly responding when their space is their own. 

( How can he who possesses the natural instinct of man, the uncanny senses of the panther, and the stubborn bull-like focus miss any of Storm’s venereal transmitted signals? From the blatant flirting to the way she talks to him in codes in front of others, the few chances she stole to whisper when others were out of earshot, and the little signs of impatience she showed, wanting the night to reach its end. )

Twenty minutes later T’Challa delivered a timeline of messy garbs ( some that’ll need to be rethreaded, others pulled off as gentlemanly and womanly possible under carnal influences ) reverential touches and kisses, and the unplanned one-on-one session taking place currently in the spirit plane.

“ I’m merely a king and a man that’s mused by all the blessings his love has given him. ” He finally said, commitment clear in his voice. “ I am the opposite of afraid: with an inquisitive mind, I can’t help but wonder about the channels that I can take to keep things the way they are going—I am purely enthusiastic about our new journey. ”

All of what he says please Bast. It is good to hear him speak confidently again and understanding that’s retreating his brooding phase. This was quality that will keep her fed—for now. “ Very well. You present no reason for me to doubt your words, my Black Panther. It is her first day back and the reception on her return has gone exceedingly well. After all that you two have done for the world, you both deserve to have your own semblance of happiness.” Her visage became faint in an expanding mist, along with her voice as if was quickly retreating into another plane that’s making it impossible for him to be near. “ May you and Wakanda’s future Queen prosper for a long to come. We will have a chat again. Your woman is awake. ”

When T’Challa opens his eyes, he finds himself in a position that he wasn’t in prior ( as previously mentioned, he was in Ororo’s arms. Plane-walking? ): he was standing in front of his window, posture struck militantly, with his hands cuffed just above his tailbone. A sweet, husky voice broke his amber-hues from their attention on the moon and the stars above to the dark-skin beaut regarding him in confusion from behind him in his—their—bed. His conversation with Bast is pushed at the back of his mind, as he saunters over to their bedside. “ Apologies, my love. ” Our king sat down on the edge, reached over to have his thumb stroke her defined cheekbone, and touched her full lips affectionately “ I have been thinking about giving you a personal taste of home for breakfast: for starters, how does Mandazi sound to you? Coconut milk, cardamom, and coconut are the main ingredients for that, correct? ”

@fierceststorm