[thekujua]

SENTENCE STARTERS / accepting.

@mercysought​ said: ❝Love, for you, is more than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying.❞ from maxima to efraim about the priestess, and only because I couldn't think anyone else to say it about both of them I just love them

The words do not offend him, quite the contrary actually. In fact, it is almost as though she has at last put his more primitive feelings —from which this divine love stems— into words. Finally. In gratitude, he pays her a soft chuckle and a smile that reaches his eyes, a rare sight so far from The Priestess’s line of sight. 

❝ Terrifying indeed.❞ Even now, across the room and amidst the buzz, he finds her with ease once he raises his gaze. He could find her anywhere, and even afte all these years, he is still immediately hit with the urge to run to her each and every time. ❝ You give one person every key to your defenses. You hand them the power to bring you to ruin, and you do so willingly. And once you do, to take it back is nearly impossible.If they break your trust, you may never survive it. ❞

They have, of course, received similar reviews. The head of their ministry herself had said that there was no magic as powerful as that which Efraim shared with The Priestess. He never doubted it for a second. Buidling a family with her was as simple as bringing the pieces together, and falling in love with her and that life was as easy as breathing. To love someone this much, it is terrifying. And for that, it is the most prestigious blessing one could receive.

❝ You know, I believed in absolutely nothing before I met her, certainly not love. I only knew what I had seen as a boy, and what I had seen was not good. This life, our life, it was not even a dream I cared to have. And now, I would wither away in any other. She saved me, in more ways than simple healing spells. It was the first time I saw past myself. Loving her made me strong, strong enough to take in Harry and then Manala and then Blaise. To raise my boys, my daughter, in a home built on nothing but love? Something I was taught never to believe in ? My every fear lays wary , but my joy eclipses it all. Do you think you can love this way ? ❞ 

He turns back to her, still smiling. He asks not for her to answer him but to answer herself. It may not be today, but one day, she just might need to. ❝ I only hope my children are able to love like that. You know, Blaise, he came to us later. We had to break old habits, create new ones. I want to believe that we succeeded , but sometimes, I still see traces of a fear. Still, I have hope he will find his strength too, even if it does not look like mine. ❞

Though some days, he himself does not understand it, this miracle. He remembers being unable to stand in the same room together without bickering —or worse, not speaking at all. Now, they are more in love each day, and every moment spent together is done so with a palpable dedication. And it never gets old. He never gets tired. ❝ Will you find your brand of love? Or your brand of terrifying ? ❞

He thinks of his sons and what he’s tried to teach them, who he’s tried to be for their sake. He thinks of his daughter and all he’s devoted to her. All the things that could have torn him and the Priestess apart had been the things which had bound them together. Now, he knows that even if every single one of those ties fell away, the bond would remain. Loving her was in his nature, in his very DNA. It was what he was made to do. He wouldn’t know how to do anything else without it. He would become a stranger in his own body. He wishes it on no one and everyone.

❝ Even so, loving like this is not for everyone. She and I went to hell and back together, twice. We can love each other no other way. ❞

[mercysought]

@ourpyrrhicvictory​ : ❝ I do not get flashbacks, I remember bad things vividly. ❞ YOU KNOW WHO // BLACK FRIDAY ( accepting! ) 

The smile that forms on the priestess’ lips is one that is hard thing to decode. The slight quirk of her brow smoothed immediately as she walks around the chairs that were set around the circular table. Their home was simple, a stark reminder each time that it was rare the time where all of them really found themselves home. Still, pictures had been quickly taking over every empty space of the house; even if the rest was simple and at times covered with dust, the walls? The walls were brimming with the life of Manala and Amare’s baby smiles all the way to the years where they refused to smile in picture. How time had flown by. 

Her fingers find the side of his head, tilting it in a gentle manner, pulling it backward. Short nails feel the rough hair, not unlike her own. She leans in, feeling the warmth of his face against her skin. It still wasn’t a subject that they were great at talking about, their issues and they mental illnesses. That is what they were. The subject was treated fairly different now than it had been… just ten, fifteen years in the past when they had first met. How time really flies.

   “It is fine to call them what they are.“ her voice is strong against his scalp, her scarred lips remaining pressed against his skin “There is no shame in that.”

[mercysought]

@ourpyrrhicvictory​​ . @thekujua​​ ​​​: [ sit ] for your muse to pull mine into their lap - efraim @ the priestess lolol from word prompts compilation ( not accepting )

In the mistress office, there is a wall of bright orange stone that has been there since the inception of the school. A simple cut of the mountains face and the building that had been built seamlessly into it.

There were not many that actually got to witness it, and not many that would understand the significance of it other than the geological sense of it. The priestess, for years the teacher of Magic Arts had come to realise that it was far more than a simple wall, most professors in the school came to understand it. And her husband now, that so often visited the School. Made himself a presence common enough where instead of panic that a government official was in the school, that it became the headmistress’ husband. There were whispers that through him the government was attempting to make changes to the school.

The priestess speaks for no one but God and herself.

He stands before the wall, watching as the dying sun changed the shades of orange over it. There are very light lines on the stone of different shades, from this distance they were barely visible. She wonders if he has already understood what it is, what it means. Has he heard them? The voices of those that had come before her? The priestess’ bare feet are silent over the cool stone as she walks closer towards the man that dragged the chair that had been in front of her desk beside her own. It was amusing that even now he would refuse to seat in the headmistress chair, choosing instead to drag the visitor’s chair.

   “So” she hums, one hand resting against his shoulder. The side of her body resting against his. Dark eyes lift up, breaking that very intense focus. Oh she knew, how many hours had she passed just staring into it. To finally be allowed to study it without having to look over her shoulder, without feeling like she was gleaming into something she should not be.

Regardless of how much she loved him, this was not his secrets to discover. Scarred fingers squeeze his shoulders “What is the excuse this time?”

   “Is missing my wife not reason enough?” she snorts, giving him a sidelong glance as she circles around him. Her husband’s hands grasp at her arm, holding it loosely and pulling her closer slowly. Dark eyes with heavy under bags looking at him from above. Allowing for her hand to be placed atop his shoulder, sitting slowly on him.

Long fingers graze the side of his dark hair. A smile forming over her lips, against the side of his face. Her cheek against the roughness of his beard “Who saw you then and sees you now…” she hums against his ear, the smile growing upon scarred lips. Her hands hold the sides of his face, caressing soft skin beneath rough palms “You know you can’t keep doing this.”

[mercysought]

@ourpyrrhicvictory​ said:  ( DANCE ) leaning in closer while they are slow dancing with mine. and ( HOLD ) holding mine’s hand efraim @ the priestess from Seduction Starters ( accepting )

The music was from Cabo Verde; she didn’t know exactly what the words meant but she knew enough to recognise it. It was lucky in a sense that they should find something called cassettes in this miji house with such good music. It had been Efraim that had explained what it was, and how it was used. It was wonderful and fascinating how different and yet so similar the miji folk and her own people were. It was like that that they had ended up in this manner, slowly dancing to it, at first feeling a bit foolish but now settling in the warmth that his arms provided, in the comfort of his arms around her waist; her body against his.

It had been years since she had found herself like this, or allowed herself to be like this really. It was an odd sense of longing that the woman hadn’t really expected to feel. Not there and not in that particular moment. 

Still, she swayed, and her hands found comfort while wrapping themselves around his body, bringing him closer to her body until there was no distance between the two. This was, in many levels, a bad idea and very much unprofessional but they had already crossed that line long ago. She had not noticed that it was a line when she had, it had been a fluid thing almost like one drawn in sand, but she did not regret it. Black eyes glance up to his with a small smile and she can see a hint of it in his lips too.

He holds her hand and kisses the scarred skin with a warmth that pierces through even the coldest of hearts, even the hardest of skins. He holds her hand against his chest in a way that her hand is barely visible within it, holds it over his heart and in a way one could see it beating between both of their hands. The priestess’ forehead leans softly against his chest, resting against it as she hears the guitars playing and the thud of his heart as they sway.

[archopv-blog]

SOME FACTS ON AFRICA’S WIZARDING WORLD IN REGARDS TO EFRAIM’S PORTRAYAL AND MY PERSONAL HEADCANONS | headcanon 002.

Miji - the term that refers to non-magical folk, is also the Swahili word for mundane

Kujua - a ministry position in Africa similar to Britain’s ‘Unspeakable’. Swahili word for ‘to know’. The catalogs of this occupation include Death, Love, Thought, and Souls

magic, and wizards and witches, are far more accepted in Africa’s more rural and ancient communities due to the old ways prior to Christianity and other global religions making their entrance. 

there are many kinds of magic here that span beyond what is known to other parts of the world. Alchemy is practiced by both Miji and wizards albeit of course with varying results. seers are a happy medium ( no pun intended ) between the two

all major wizarding countries have their own ministry of magic, and many positions within them offer flexibility to where you can hold jobs in multiple. ephraim is employed by both the Ugandan ministry and the Egyptian ministry, and he also consults with Ghana as well. 

becoming an animagus is one of the primary subjects taught at Uagadou, and few students forego it. it is one of the primary qualifications for most top ministry jobs, and it is a sacred art on the continent as a whole. 

the coins that uagadou students receive from the dream messengers are their travel to and from school, a specialized portkey of sorts. 

wizards hold both plants and animals in high regards and are very preservative of such things all over the continent

[thekujua]

SMUT PROMPTS | accepting.

@mercysought​ said: Worship with finale or survival? From the priestess/efraim?

Worship - One muse worships the others body during sex Finale - Our muses have a final fling before a major battle/cataclysm

❛ Say what you will about my religion , but I have been praying to one goddess and no other for 16 years , and they have been the best 16 years of my life. ❜

He slips her underwear from her legs with practiced precious , the tips of his fingers touching every inch of her skin on the way down. It is all routine. The lick of his lips , the slow inhale , the darkening and dilation in his eyes. His lips retrace the path of the fabric , up up up until he is skating across the skin of her inner thighs. They find perch atop his shoulders , those slender legs of hers , as capable of protecting him as they are of ending him. He revels in that fact ALWAYS.

Even now , as the climax of a decades - long war creeps over the horizon towards them , he only focuses on the climax he seeks to bring her to tonight. Because even now , after all of these years together , she leaves him BREATHLESS. Even with their children just in the next room , his mothers down the hall , he will not venture into battle without having known her touch once more. After all , it is that touch , encased in her love for him , that has kept him breathing this long. 

The pessimist would try and negate it , say that it is their love that brought them here again to begin with. Had they not loved each other , they would have parted ways the first time. They would not be here in Britain fighting someone else’s war. AGAIN. Or worse , Efraim would be here alone , with a son he’d raised alone , expecting never to see his homeland again. 

But they did love each other. She did love him , and she did love Harry Amare , and they all loved Manala , and Manala loved them all. And so it stands to reason that they would all be here , together , regardless of the cause. Or rather , BECAUSE OF IT. Amare’s burden had become their burden the moment Efraim had taken him off of that doorstep. 

And he had not a single regret about it now.

❛ So tonight , I will worship her as I have always worshipped her. In the flesh , with all of me. For I have known nothing , no one , more divine. This is where I lay my prayers. This is where I extend my offerings. So that tomorrow , I may ensure victory. ❜

He burrows his face into her warmth , spurred by the heels digging into his shoulders and the fingers in his coarse locks and the low rumble in her belly that mirrors his own. Deeper and deeper he goes , tongue clawing up her walls in search of sanctuary , his hands roaming her body with evident expertise. He knows her as well as he knows his own hands , and it is as though this is where they belong. Intoxicated by the taste now painting his tongue , he glances up to admire the state of her.

❛ —And my love , you are as beautiful , as devastating , as you were the first time I saw you. ❜

Only when her back arches off of the bed , the hallowed hiss of his name permeating the air , does he come up for air again , chin glistening and beard thick with her arousal. He does not pause however , does not question , only climbs atop and sinks inside of her , over and done with grinding his erection recklessly into the mattress. Her hands grace his back as he grips the headboard , and he smiles , offering one teasing roll of his hips.   

❛                   Unless , of course , my love , I would tire you. Does my goddess tire of my endless worship ? I need you at your best tomorrow , after all. ❜

[thekujua]

HERE, THERE WAS NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BOYS AND KINGS. descended from gods and pharaohs, goddesses and queens, your blood ran gold, and your reign ran deep. it was all you knew, and you wished to know all. as a child, questions breed more questions than answers, and answers tend to breed vengeance and spite. you believed in your elders, but your elders believed in fate, and you didn’t like things that were intent upon robbing you of time well spent. son of war, son of kings, son of the sun and the moon and the stars. you were not allowed to feel as boys felt, to play as boys played, to fall as boys fells. you were not allowed to know your father, and you were not allowed to know yourself. and now here you are sharing a bed with a stranger and a mirror with an echo of everything you believed in, everything that they D E S T R O Y E D !!! what comes next ??? ask yourself who you are, and the question will breed more questions than answers. ask them who you are, and the answers will only breed vengeance and spite. here, they do not speak of heroes and villains. they only speak of the martyrs and kings. that should help to narrow it down. now open yourself up and  S P I L L.

                                    HIGHLY PRIVATE AND SELECTIVE EFRAIM ASOMUGHA.                                        uagadou original character of jkr OSO’S HP UNIVERSE.

[thekujua]

SENTENCE PROMPTS | accepting.

@mercysought​ said: ‘ yours is not a body i can bury ’ // the priestess for efraim!

HE DOES HIS BEST TO SMILE , and it almost looks convincing , more so when draped in shadows. But the apprehension is there. It is always there. Because their life is a conduit for it , and as beautiful as it may be , not a day goes by that does not sport some sense of anxious energy. Because they sacrificed EVERYTHING to build their family. And for that , there is always something to lose. 

❛ You are right. You can’t. And I will tell you why. ❜ Moving into the room , he removes his coat , allowing it to flow from his hands and into the hall. The ministry comes off with it , and he is no longer the weapon they wield him as , only a husband , a father. That is not to say he is weak. No , no. In fact , he is so much STRONGER.

❛ The universe came to me in a dream , and she said that so long as your heart beats , so shall mine. ❜ He takes her hand in his own once he’s closed the distance , pressing her palm into the center of his chest. Never has another’s touch affected him in such a drastic way , multiple drastic ways. And to think that in the beginning , he had wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. Now , he could not imagine a life without her. 

❛ Because that is what my heart was made to do. ❜

They will have to leave soon. And they will do it together. But there are nights where Efraim wonders if he protected his children too much , shielded them too well. There is no leaving them at home this time. Not a single one of them. Where Amare goes , Manala goes , and where the two of them go , Blaise is not far behind.

And where their children go , he and her damn sure follow. In fact , this time , they LEAD.

AND EVERYTHING IS AT STAKE.

It’s odd now , so much so that it makes him cry some mornings. Nearly a decade ago , he had been so eager to run headfirst into a war , expecting to come home yet not caring if he did. He had no attachments , emotional or otherwise. As much as he loved his mothers and loved his siblings , his life had been wholely his own ever since he’d managed to reclaim it from his father’s claws. But now , Efraim avoided the risk of losing his family , and of his family losing him , by any means necessary. He always came home. He had no plans of changing that. 

❛ We will return to the motherland as we have left it. Together. And well. ❜ 

[mercysought]

@ourpyrrhicvictory​​​​​​ said: ❝ I will never forgive that man for what he did. ❞ efraim @ the priestess mhmm from UndeadWood part IV ( selectively accepting )

The priestess’ fingers pull the warm blanket that covers Harry’s chin down softly; small chubby fingers hold her scarred skin. She loved the small boy in her arms more and more with each passing second. The thoughts of Dumbledore and the non-magical relatives of the boy were far away, as far as the space that separated Uganda and Great Britain. Manala sleeps by the crib next to her and Harry seems to smile, even if the witch knows that he is far too young to really be aware of anything around him. Perhaps the distance was even longer than that of Uganda and Great Britain; from one Universe to another. To be alive and back to her little girl, to be there and to know that the boy would not just be left to fate. Dark skinned fingers brush against his, holding his hand as well as she could and she smiles.

   “As long as he doesn’t interfere further, I do not care.” she hums though black eyes do not move from the young boy. Dumbledore had been a good ally during the war, but the war was now over and this boy… this boy that paid everything to end it would continue doing so. No, that wasn’t right. There is resentment to the man that had make that decision, anger, but all of it melted away “If that changes…” well, that would be a different discussion. 

[mercysought]

@ourpyrrhicvictory​​ said: ❝ What words are you thinking right now? ❞ efraim @ the priestess from UndeadWood part IV ( accepting )

The priestess smiles. Black eyes blinking slowly as her focus is regained; her vision fully returning as she takes in the man seating by the small fireplace on the small home that they had crashed for the night. He looked as handsome as ever, worst still was perhaps the way that his smile was drawn which told her that he was very much aware of it. Her mind was shielded and while she trusted that his was too, she didn’t attempt to cross that threshold. She did not need to. An amused hum leaves her lips as the weight shifts from her legs to her upper body as she straightens herself out on the old chair. The flames’ orange glow brushes against his dark skin, and it compliments it so fully. Voices come from behind them as the silence settles comfortably between two knowing smiles “Oh, so many words…”

Someone calls her from the kitchen of the house. The wooden tones are so orange that they become unpleasant to be around, but their living room was not much better. The dark skinned woman rises slowly, though her eyes do not leave him, not until she turns to walk away “I suppose you will have to find out when the time is right.”