#<333.

t'challa was a man prepared for everything.

he prepared himself to weather storms — in his country, in the motherland, in the world. he drafted contingencies for the most powerful of his allies and adversaries alike, from street-level threats to universal anomalies. he prepared for invasions. for betrayal. for multiversal compromises. he prepared for all of it.

however, the panther chieftan had not prepared himself for this.

for the way her voice quivered with delight when she spoke his name. for the placement of her hand in wonder on the area of the body that known most of his kisses and reverent touches. for the way joy could feel heavier than war and saving the cosmos.

the great cat stopped before her, the night air rustling the hem of his royal finery, violet city light reflecting softly across the stunned planes of his expression. for a moment — just a moment — he did not speak. his cat eyes of gold followed her hand. he fluttered his eyelashes, blinking once.

the tremor was there. the very human tremor.

and her words sank into his mind and his heart. as though the goddess bast herself had implanted them into the chest of her champion.

his breath left him, quiet and disbelieving.

he stepped forward then, closing the distance between them with a care that was akin to the sacred foundations they'd established from teenhood onward. his hand came up instinctively and landed on top of hers on her abdomen. the act anchored him.

there was joy beyond words. there was fear. and then there was the strongest instinct a cat possessed.

protectiveness.

t'challa was awed, pursing his lips together briefly

“ we are.. ” he started to say, but then the sentence failed to complete. unusual for king t'challa, for when the man spoke, he spoke with certainty. but these events were different from anything he had ever faced before. the constriction in his throat was from the overwhelming expansion of something too immense. t'challa imagined, in a fleeting moment of thought, that perhaps this was what his father had once felt. and his father before him.

“ a child, ” he finished softly. his fingers splayed out carefully over the area beneath her palm, as though he could already feel the promise of something new forming there. wakanda had her heirs before. but this was different.

this was not a phenomenon shaped by duty. this was love made flesh. it made so much sense, too.

it explained the subtle changes he had sensed; the change in her scent, the faint alteration in rhythm only heightened senses could detect. while still intoxicating, there had been something new woven into her being.

now he understood.

“ you carry our future, ” he whispered, his smile enhancing his dotting features. “ and i have never felt more honored. thank you. ” he planted a slow kiss on her forehead.

nothing held his imagination greater than the thought that now unfurled before him: holding ororo through every sunrise to come.

but then it dawned on him.

😭😭😭

the horrors...... they have been subdued by your artistic talents........

thank you so so much!!!! <3

https://imgur.com/gallery/l4HpfEX