#Red Circle Sorcery

[dirtyriver]

"Essays Into The Supernatural: Horror Movies", Red Circle Sorcery #10, December 1974, written by Marv Channing, art by Gray Morrow

[weirdlookindog]

Red Circle Sorcery #9 - Archie/Red Circle Comics Group, October 1974. Cover art by Gray Morrow.

[cantsayidont]

April 1974. Gray Morrow cover for one of the Red Circle horror books he edited during this period. The cover illustration references the story "Face of Love – Face of Death," by Marv Channing and Vicente Alcazar, about a late-night DJ whose sexy on-air voice attracts the wrong kind of fan. The climax is marred by over-wordiness; I think Channing was new to comics (my guess is he was someone Morrow knew) and hadn't yet learned to pare down his dialogue and captions to a digestible length.

[balu8]

Red Circle Sorcery #6: The Patience of a Cat

by Carole Seuling and Howard Chaykin

Archie

[thebestcomicbookpanels]

Red Circle Sorcery by Gray Morrow

[aloesarchives]

Two for the Price of One (JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Profanity, NOT POLY SATOSUGU X READER, Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, ANGST, Angst for Satoru and Reader, Bittersweet ending for Suguru and Reader, HIGHKEY MISCOMMUNICATION, Possible OOC Satoru, abandonment issues if you squint really hard, Reader slowly losing herself, Reader feeling depression/hopeless(implicit), Reader's has a healthy dynamic with her clan

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader/Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader

AU: Canon

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader's clan has a unrealistic healthy and understanding relationship with her)

Word Count: 6.1k words

Summary: Gojo's lack of coping caused you to drift away and eventually depart after Suguru's defection from Jujutsu Society.

(A/N): I know it doesn't make sense and will make many frustrated with how dumb this is. I just wanted to write my emotions out with this one, okay? I know this wouldn't slide but I'm a sucker for these scenarios. Edit: Since I've been getting positive reactions from you guys, I decided to take out the cringe/unrealistic out of the warning/tws lists. I truly love and appreciate you, loves!❤️

[!!Semi-edited & Proofread!!! 2/8/2024 4:04pm CST]

It was hard on all of you.

More so for you and Satoru.

Ever since Geto’s massacre and defection, the higher-ups and Jujutsu society have been scrambling to get the chaos under control. Having a special grade user become a curse user was sounding red alarms as there was an immediate threat to present-day Jujutsu sorcery.

You knew something was up with Suguru. You did; your observation wouldn’t allow things to go unnoticed. It was a bit here and there, but never a significant concern. You tried coaxing him gradually to open up to you, but your efforts were fruitless. No bells were ringing until the post-Plasma Star Vessel incident. You felt the shift in Suguru’s aura; you noticed his lifeless stare—the growing dark circles around his eyes surrounding the tiny flicker of life left inside. 

You tried being there for Suguru. You did anything and everything to accompany him and not leave him alone. It was selfish of you. To be desperate for your best friend to lean on you for support and not to go down a destructive path. You became even more worried when Haibara returned cold with a frustrated and traumatized Nanami. It was becoming more evident of Suguru’s deteriorating condition, you to confide in Shoko and even Yaga-sensei. 

Grief is like love, a twisted parasitic curse. Even though a year has passed, your grief was a malevolent spirit that latched itself onto your shoulders with a vice grip. A bitter reminder of how Suguru never said goodbye to you. He technically did with Satoru. But it was more of him telling Satoru that he was severing ties with Jujutsu Society by questioning him with his newfound powers. All you got from Suguru was a simple letter Shoko gave you at your dorm. She was with you as you read it. Tear droplets stained the paper, words smeared, and became unreadable. Out of pure frustration, you ripped the paper in half—the tearing of paper cut through the sickening silence. Shoko hugged you as you sobbed in the aftermath. While you were mourning the loss of your friend and your lives together, you were also mourning your life after this would never be the same. It would only get worse from here. 

 Satoru is tossed onto multiple missions left and right, never catching a break.

And there was you, trying to return to your regular school life. Or how every day can it be now? One of your best friends just murdered an entire village and his parents, and the other one is overworking himself to the very bone. Shoko being there for you was a surprising one, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Given that she was the first one Suguru said goodbye to, she understood his actions.

The problem was trying to tell Satoru about it, but he would brush it off, saying that maybe it was the change in weather or sickness. When you tried to explain there was more to it, Satoru would wave his hand at you, saying, 

“You’re overthinking too much, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Suguru is fine. We just have to give him some time.”

Though the tone was light-hearted, it provided no comfort. You know Satoru was suffering as well. Individuals process trauma differently, after all. You were seeing this first hand. 

Satoru was overcompensating to the world of Jujutsu with his enlightenment, overworking himself and burying his pain through that charismatic mask he now dons. Suguru is the most common one: Insomnia, isolation, and depression. He slowly became a lifeless husk. On the other hand, you were coping by trying to move forward while acting like a rock for them. Despite the hard transition, you didn’t deny your trauma as you slowly worked to process and navigate through it. You had the support of Shoko, your teacher, and even your clan/family stepped in to support your mental health endeavors. They went as far as providing you with a therapist, who was also a sorcerer.

But you all were suffering in silence.

A year has passed since Suguru left, and you were getting by. You, Shoko, and Satoru would graduate in the third year and officially become Jujutsu Sorcerers. Yet, at this point, it felt more like only you and Shoko. Satoru still attended class and hung out, but missions mainly preoccupied his school life. He recently returned from Hokkaido, only to be sent out again. This time, however, it was somewhere in Western Europe. That’s on the other side of the world. It would only be for a week, but still. You wanted him to rest or take a break, as he never did– not since the incident.

He wouldn’t be leaving for another seven days, so you had enough time to be with him. Yet it was challenging because Satoru didn’t let up. The ravine he created kept opening, the distance stretching far and deep, pushing you away.

Just like Suguru.

You didn’t want to lose Satoru. You almost did, becoming a grim reminder of how much you cared for Satoru Suguru. To fall for your best friend was a betrayal. You didn’t mean it, but Satoru did things that made your heart warm and fluttered. Suguru was the first to catch on; he saw your crush a mile away. Confiding in Suguru about it, you found solace in his words– feeding into an enviable delusion. 

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's eyes were able to hide his longing for you as you rambled about Satoru and your latest hangout together. Suguru always thought you and Satoru had a special connection—your two powerful chemistry and how you bounce off each other. He presumed Satoru had mutual feelings, but nothing was said. Once he left, he knew you had his heart. There was no space for anyone else to fill it but you. And Suguru was more than willing to live with reality. If the girl who gave his life light is with his best friend, so be it. He would settle with the heartache as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t happy at all.

Over time, you started questioning whether the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was worth it. Yes, you were born into the world of Jujutsu, and it has been your whole life. But the last two years radically changed that. You were already exposed to this life's dangers and cruelty; prepare to face it head-on no matter what. Yet second thoughts became third thoughts. Then, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The more you challenge your initial mindset, the more doubts seep into its cracks.

Why should I continue when I am nothing more than a placeholder in this world?

How can I save everyone if I can’t save one person?

Where is the meaning in all of this if I’ll just die alone and be replaced and forgotten?

Was this endless cycle of Jujutsu Sorcery even worth it?

You wondered if Suguru shared the same thoughts to push him to his decision. Now, you don’t blame him for leaving at all. It was grime. It was depravity. It was futile. You only stayed because you had your clan. You had Yaga-sensei and Shoko. But most of all, you had Satoru to shoulder the burdens of the Jujutsu world.

That’s. . .what you thought. . .

You decided to go to Satoru’s dorm to check up on him. Maybe squeeze a hangout in there. Gently knocking, you hope he was there since you couldn’t sense him around the campus. There was faint shuffling on the other side, signaling he was. You softly call out to him as you knock again. Once opened, Satoru greeted you in his school uniform. You found it odd since he’d switched to his comfortable clothes after school hours. 

“Hi, Toru! I just came by to see how you’re doing. The mochi store we always go to releases its seasonal flavors today! Why don’t you come with me? I heard one of your favorites returned, so I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I appreciate the thought, (Y/N). But not today, I’m sorry.” Satoru said with a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint his smile, tittering on, sad and strained. A tinge of uneasiness settled inside your heart, but you still wore your smile to not let it surface.

“C’mon, Toru! You don’t know if they will sell out today. Plus, the weather is great. I heard some festivals with food stands are opening up because of that. It wouldn’t hurt to go out just this once, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile disappears at your insistence, replacing it with a fine line. His mood change didn’t sit well with you. You had previous attempts to get Satoru to care for himself. However, this is different from all your others because the band that holds your desperation began to wane itself thin. Your solid composure falters in bits. Your bright aura slowly dimmed as your now chapped lips twitched.

“Satoru, I know that you’re busy. Always on missions, meeting the higher-ups, your clan needing you more than ever, you have your hands tied. But it wouldn’t be too much just to enjoy yourself. Just come with me today before you go to Europe next week. It’s been a while since we hung out together.”

“Look (Y/N), I don’t really have time for this. I need to head out now, or it will get dark. Maybe another time–”

Then something inside of you snaps. You didn’t know whether it was your desperation or uneasiness, but assumed both because your facade crumbles to reveal your emotions.

“You always say later, Satoru, but never do! You haven’t taken a break in months! You’ve gotten paler, and your under-eyes are darker than before! You’re pushing yourself too hard and beginning to neglect yourself. Toru, Please! I’m worried about you! You know I can always help you–”

“For the love of God, (Y/N)! Can you STOP TALKING?! GOD, YOUR VOICE MAKES MY EARS BLEED! LIKE HELL YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND MY RESPONSIBILITIES!”

 It was never your intention to snap. But the way Satoru was acting paralleled Suguru. Eat, sleep, and go on missions. It was always those three, the same ones Suguru was subjected to that became a factor in his defection. Satoru was caught in the vicious cycle that pushed Suguru over the edge. 

On top of your crippling fear of Satoru sharing the same fate as Suguru, Déjà vu struck you. Desperation emerged from within as you didn’t want to lose him, breaking your resolve before him. Desperation was fear in another form. 

You weren’t the only one to reach a breaking point. Satoru snapped as well and at you, of all people. You guessed it was from all the stress and emotions he bottled up that exploded there. What Satoru was experiencing was valid and understandable; you knew this. Yet to blow up at you was uncalled for as you made it clear you’re only helping. Your eyes sting as you feel the formation of tears ready themselves, biting the inside of your bottom lip to keep your voice from breaking.

“B-but. . .Satoru. . .I w-was only trying to–” You stuttered out, forcibly pushing out words to fill the silence.

“Help? You were trying to help, (Y/N)?”

Once saying that Satoru let out a sarcastic laughter that could be mistaken for madness. Horror took over your face. Pain-filled eyes were glossed over, showing your tears could spill at any moment. His laughter abruptly stopped, making it so quiet that only your staggered breathing could be heard. He meets his eyes with yours with the most disdain you have ever seen.

“Do you think you could help when you’re just dead weight? You thought you were on par with Suguru and me. Get that out of your stupid little head of yours (Y/N). You were never strong like us.”

“You don’t mean that, right, Satoru?” You said incredulity as you reached out for him. Only for your hand to freeze before him, not going any further. A chill flashed over you, adding to the aching that enveloped your soul.

Did he– Did he just use his infinity on you?

“Oh, but I do. Now, I need to be somewhere. Do yourself a favor, (Y/N), and don’t bother me with your weak presence.”

And before you knew it, Satoru was already gone. He had used his teleportation to get to where he was needed. Leaving you alone with the door to his dorm wide open. The sounds of the crickets took over. They were paired with your small sniffles, furiously wiping away your nonstop tears. 

Were you weak to him?

Have you really been holding everyone back?

Were you that much of a nuisance to him?

Is this how Satoru really felt about you?

Has he always felt this way?

You never saw utter detest and contempt from Satoru. Your previous interactions had him irritated or annoyed, but never like this. This was the first time Satoru had blown up on you, let alone given you such a reaction. Before, you’d repeatedly remind him of your support and help. But it always ends the same way, pushing you away. After what happened, this will be the last time you’d do this for him. 

You were once told that you can’t help someone if they aren’t reaching out for help. And this was a bitter example of it. Your efforts in having Satoru lean on you bore nothing. What’s the point in continuing this if nothing changes after multiple attempts?

You were tired, drained, and indifferent. Your tears keep falling as you enter your dorm, not even stopping as the sound of nature lulls you to sleep. 

You let two days pass to let Satoru calm down and give him space. No interactions or anything to pass some time. You would try to contact him for the next four days after that. But your texts were left unanswered and on read. When you tried calling, your call went straight to voicemail. He blocked your phone number, too. 

 The weight of your doubts and Satoru’s words the other day are fueling your impulsivity. If Satoru called you weak and dead weight, other sorcerers would think so, too. If you become a thorn in their side, you’re doing them a favor by pulling yourself out for them. Even if Satoru didn’t mean it, you knew there was some truth to it because he kept his infinity up. You could never forget how his blue eyes lit through his pitch-dark glasses as he spoke down at you. Giving away that he was conscious and level-headed when he said those words.

You were losing the war against your intrusive mind. Your doubts and thoughts gradually solidified in your consciousness. In the course of time, they won and consumed your psyche.

If becoming a jujutsu sorcerer would get in the way of others, then being a sorcerer wasn’t for you.

With your last attempts to contact Satoru, you have made your decision. A day before Satoru departs for Europe, you decide to pay your clan head a visit. It was sudden and unannounced; nonetheless, they allowed an audience with you. 

They let you speak your mind, allowing whatever you need to be released and run free without judgment. Thus, you confided in them about everything.

This was too much; all of it was too much for you to bear any longer. You couldn’t see yourself as a sorcerer any longer after dealing with what you had experienced. Every day was a battle for you, and you lost every single one. You admitted you didn’t have what’s left of you it in you to shoulder the responsibilities of the Jujutsu world. You didn’t want the life of a jujutsu sorcerer anymore. You wanted one of peace, not having to fight every day. To enjoy the rest of your days as a regular civilian.

Confiding also in missing Suguru dearly and how his departure left a hole in your heart that could never be healed. You weren’t strong enough to face the horrors and hardships anymore and wish to live a peaceful life. 

Although your clan head was shocked at your confession, they were understanding and asked if this was something you truly wanted. An unwavering ‘Yes’ left you, and your clan head nodded. They gave you a choice: to go after graduation in a few weeks or leave now. If you leave now, they will deal with the rest as you finish the important schoolwork. It was just a waiting game with missions sprinkled throughout.

You could wait before leaving, but that’s wasting time. If you weren’t going to continue your life here, you might as well get a headstart now in your new one. You finalize your decision with the head. They said they would have some members pick up your stuff from your dorms tomorrow morning, but you said it wouldn’t be much. As you took your leave, you told them you would keep in touch with the clan. 

“What are your plans for what happens next, (Y/N)?” They curiously asked with your back facing them.

“Hmm, I don’t know exactly. But I have an idea, (Clan Head’s Name). Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

With a reassuring voice, you turn to respectfully bow before leaving their room. Though they never said it out loud, they saw how your eyes were soft, like tremendous pressure was relieved from your body.

Thinking about it as you leave the estate, you never mentioned your fight with Satoru. Though it wouldn’t change anything. That night, you packed your dorm in your suitcase. Only leave your bedsheets, a pillow, and a few desk appliances behind. Your closet and drawers were empty of any clothes you had. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, any trace left of you would be gone. As you write a letter to whoever finds it about your whereabouts, your thoughts return to Suguru. To playfully think he did the exact same thing before his defection. 

You looked at your school uniform as it hung on your door. You contemplated taking it with you but decided against it. You wanted no strings left attached when you leave the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Morning came as you stared at the room you once called your own. The remainder of your things are packed in cardboard boxes for your clan members to get later. You glance back over to your desk as your school uniform is neatly folded on top of it. Your lips are graced with a sentimental smile as you close the door one last time. 

As you walked along the campus, fleeting memories of your days here flooded your mind. You reminisced on the areas and places you spent your youth with your friends and classmates. Now you’re leaving Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu World forever. Never to come back. You get to the main entrance of the school.

Before taking another step, you sensed someone behind you.

“So you're leaving, too, (Y/N)?”

It was Shoko.

“Yeah. . . Shoko. I’m going. . .”

She blows out a large smoke cloud from her cigarette, giving you a blank look before sending you a smile.

“At least say goodbye to me. . .I don’t blame you for going. . .” Shoko adds as she holds out her arms. You chuckle at her gesture and give her a hug. By the slight firm grip you felt, she didn’t want you to go, but she couldn’t stop you either.

Once you break away from the hug, you remember something and fish out a folded paper in your bag. You handed it to Shoko, and she eyed it curiously.

“I was going to leave it in my dorm for someone to find, but I thought it would work better if I gave this to you if I ran into it on my way out. My clan is sending members to get the last of my things, so I won’t return to my dorm. Sorry I had to make you the messenger again, Shoko.” You bittersweetly said.

You find it ironic that your departure is similar to Suguru’s. Shoko is the first to see you two go while giving her a letter for the others to read. You laugh as you think this over.

Oh, how history repeats itself.

Shoko tucks away your letter before taking a drag from her smoke.

“Does he know about this?”

You knew she was referring to Satoru. You shook your head no, still have a small smile.

“No, unfortunately. Satoru and I got into a arg– disagreement a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s okay with me to begin with, as cowardly to say. The only ones that know are you and my clan head.”

She hums at your response before going for another drag.

“Your phone number still the same?”

“I don’t really plan on changing my phone number. Even if I do, I’ll text you the new number so you can give it to the others.”

“I see. . .See you around, (Y/N). Keep in touch, will ya?”

“I will. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Shoko.”

Giving Shoko one last hug, you wave goodbye as you leave Jujutsu’s High entrance, disappearing from view. Not daring to look back because regret might come if you did.

Shoko watches from afar, her cigarette being halfway done. She takes one last puff before extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe. She looks at your letter. The paper was crisp with no wrinkles like it had been fresh from the printer. From this, Shoko knew you had written it recently, no hesitation evident on the page itself. Unlike Suguru’s, her fingers tighten on your letter as she sighs while entering the school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“What brings you here? He’s a busy man.”

“I’m just an old acquaintance of his. Just a simple chat. It won’t take long, I promise.”

The pretty attendant raises a brow at you as she guides you to one of the rooms. She looks you up and down before facing forward again.

“You have a substantial amount of curse energy. You have a curse technique then; aren’t you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“I…used to be…but not anymore…I chose to leave that life. I’m just a civilian that has a curse technique.”

You see the attendant smile out of the corner of your eye at your answer. 

“I see. Geto-sama will be happy to take audience with you then.”

You shouldn’t be here. You knew that. Walking in taboo territory could get you hunted down by the very society you were born into. It’s not a secret of Suguru’s position as both a curse user and a cult leader. You remember hearing about him reforming a cult that worshiped Tengan but dissolved after the incident. You found it interesting he hasn’t done collateral damage yet. No incidents or missions revolving around curses terrorizing civilians. Perhaps he was going for something on a larger scale, you thought.

But you missed Suguru dearly. Not in a sentimental reminiscing way. More as in yearning for him entirely. Everyone tells you it’s not the same with Suguru gone, obviously. Yeah, but Suguru plagued your mind after his defection. You want nothing more than to see him again. Yes, things couldn’t go back to the way they were. But you didn’t like the prospects of what your future would hold if you stayed.

You disagreed with Suguru ridding the world of non-sorcerers. But you also understand and agree the current Jujutsu system is a dumpster fire that will never work. At the end of the day, only those the higher-ups favor will get to stay while the rest are sent off to die. You didn’t want to take part in that. You valued your life to know it shouldn’t be tossed around so easily by some dementia geezers who can’t even fight. And yet, you felt a tinge of regret for not staying to fix or break the system. Your only option was to leave and not involve yourself anymore.

The attendant takes you to the room, saying he will arrive shortly. Leaving you alone, you felt your heart race. You hope Suguru doesn’t kill you because he can sense your curse energy. Yet his letter was heartfelt and raw. His apology and the paragraphs after them were for you and you alone, like a confession. Even though you ripped the letter, you keep the two halves. Strangely enough, there was an address and a few words at the bottom of the page. 

‘You know where to find me.’

Here you are, waiting for him with the same letter he sent. As you wait, you can feel his energy get closer. You stare down, kneeling, the letter shaking like a leaf in your hands.

Then the door opens.

You let out a small gasp, not daring to look up as the footsteps approach his seat. A soft chuckle fills the room as you keep your head low.

“I thought I was mistaken when I felt your curse energy. But I now know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Please, lift your head so I can see you (Y/N).”

Your gaze meets Suguru’s soft eyes and warm smile. Both genuine and kind. His eyes widen before returning back to soft when he sees the tears trickling down for your lovely eyes he could get lost in. You stumble to stand, practically pouncing at Suguru. His embrace was like gates opening for you and closing once you entered. You softly sob into his robes as he holds you tightly. Comforting you by gently rubbing your back and hair, giving a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much, Suguru!” was all you said before you continued to sniffle and hiccup into him.

Suguru hums as he pulls away to better view your face. You felt self-conscious as he lovingly gazed at you. Your nose and cheeks were raw from crying, and your eyes became an irritated red. Suguru smiles, wiping away your endless tears with his thumb.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m sorry for leaving you behind. You understand, don’t you? From my letter?”

You nodded to respond. Holding the paper in front of Suguru. He notices the tear stains and ink smudges from the words he wrote down.

“I would’ve told you in person, (Y/N). Believe me. But I couldn't once they announced my charges. You would’ve been questioned as a possible accomplice. I didn’t want that for you. Do you know what it means for you to see me now?”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I left of my own accord; it wasn’t just for you, Suguru. I wouldn’t be able to last long if I stayed. So I decided to go, leaving it behind, all of it.”

He was a bit puzzled by what you meant. But it didn’t take long for him to piece it himself. Suguru figured something happened between you and Satoru but decided to stay silent out of respect. You both stare with relief and tenderness. Suguru gingerly takes your hand and places a light kiss on your knuckles. You set your unoccupied hand on his cheek, quietly giggling as Suguru leans into your delicate touch. He sighed in contentment. Bring your hand up again to kiss it as he wraps his free arm around your waist. His sincere smile radiates down onto you.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, (Y/N).”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru was in a better mood today than before.

Satoru cooled off his head after a couple of days from when he made that outburst at you.  He was stressed and tired of being continuously sent out on missions, and you did make a point that he hasn’t taken a break in months. He remembered what he said to you that evening, which made him feel guilty.

He knows he hasn’t been around because the higher-ups have sent him out like a work dog. It was now you and Shoko with him. The stabilization you two had on him once Suguru left.

You’ve been only trying to help him for a long time. Being there for him in your own way while coaxing him to hang out. Yet he took it for granted and said some vile things because his bucket decided to overflow then out of all the times it shouldn’t. You didn’t deserve that. You also didn’t deserve the silent treatment he gave you. He saw your text messages and listened to the voicemails you left. He did not answer because he was too prideful and stubborn to admit he was stressed and hurt you like that.

But sitting with his emotions and reflecting on how stupid he is for prioritizing his ego, he decided to cut down his pride and make it up to you. He unblocked your number and was going to call you. But he chose to just surprise you instead he chickened out. Satoru knew the European mission was a nuisance to his plans, so he had already taken care of it. By that, Satoru somehow teleported himself to where he needed to be in Europe, slayed the high-level curses, retrieved some curse objects, reported what he did, and teleported back to Japan in four hours.

He did all this at the last minute on the sixth day before Satoru was supposed to leave. He did this to stay and spend the whole week with you, make up for lost time, and give a proper apology.

Now, Satoru was strolling through Jujutsu Tech. He whistles as he holds a bouquet of (favorite flowers), a box with a (favorite color) bracelet with (favorite designs/charms), and a bag of mochi and daifuku for you two to share together. He walks around the grounds, trying to search you. He was told no classes today, so he went to your favorite spots. You weren’t anywhere.

‘Huh, that’s strange. (Y/N) would usually be in those places when class is not in session. I wonder where she could be.’

Satoru thought about dropping by your dorm but figured you were with Shoko. On the other hand, he couldn’t sense Shoko around either until Satoru felt it alongside Yaga-sensei. He sensed them in Yaga’s building, so he headed there.

Blissfully unaware of what would await him. 

Satoru clutches your gifts to one side as he opens the door to enter. His six eyes hadn’t kicked in yet, but something in the air felt off. His sun smile hasn’t dropped yet as he scans around, wondering why the two were quiet when he entered.

“Yo, Yaga-sensei, Shoko! I’ve been trying to look for you guys. By any chance know where (Y/N) is so I can give these to her?”

He looks at his teacher, and Satoru’s demeanor instantly changes. There, Yaga stood with his glasses off, clutching a piece of paper with a stern frown. Satoru turns to Shoko, a somber expression replacing her lighthearted one. Satoru just looked back and forth between the two before his eyes settled on the paper in his teacher’s hand. Satoru stands stunned, hearing his heartbeat in his ears grow louder and louder. The air from his lungs disappeared as realization dawned on him. 

Satoru clenched his teeth as he teleported to your dorm room, the clap resonating throughout the hall. He burst open your dorm door, and to his horror, your room was empty. The room was stripped of everything that made it yours. The closet and drawers were emptied, and your desk and bed were bare of anything from you. What used to be your dorm is now an empty dorm room, ready for the next person to claim it. He frantically looks around in hopes of finding any reminds of you.

Then, he spotted your old Jujutsu High uniform, laying neatly on top of your old desk. Satoru just stares, not daring to pick it up. Because if he did, he would’ve broken down. He can’t stay there anymore, to which he teleports back. He bears his pearly white teeth as he closes in on his teacher.

“Where the hell is (Y/N)?” Satoru lowly said.

“Gone, Satoru–”

“I know she’s gone! But where?! Why the hell is all her stuff gone?! Her room is completely empty!”

“Satoru,” Yaga tried calmly speaking, but he was clearly frustrated. “I know this is so sudden. But the (L/N)’s clan head said something came up with (Y/N), and they retrieved all her things. Her clan said they were going to deal with everything else.”

Satoru's breathing became staggered. He could hear it growing louder. He tried his best not to let his voice crack, but that made him angrier.

“Everything else? The hell does that mean, sensei? Why would the (L/N) clan withdraw (Y/N) from school?! School ends in a few weeks! She could have graduated with us!”

“It…wasn’t their decision, Satoru…It was (Y/N)’s…”

Suddenly, Satoru became flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This gotta be some twisted, cruel joke that was playing on him. His curse energy was flaring up, and his cerulean eyes lit lightly. The flowers from the bouquet were losing their petals, and his bag full of treats was getting smushed from his intense grip.

“What…?”

“The clan head said it themselves.”

“No…”

“She decided not to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and leave Jujutsu society.”

“LIKE HELL SHE WOULD!!!” Just like that, everything came crashing down for Satoru. Not being in your usual spots on campus, the empty dorm; hell, he noticed your curse residuals becoming faint. The traces of them becoming weaker and weaker. Your presence here in Jujutsu High was fading faster than he could notice. The anger he built up showed itself as it was on full display. Honestly, Yaga and Shoko don’t blame him for his outburst. Satoru held you close, after all.

“Satoru, please.” Yaga pinches the bridge of his nose as he clenches his teeth. “I’m just as lost as you are. This came out of the blue…Her clan confirmed it, and she said it herself.”

Satoru slightly flinches when Yaga holds the paper out towards him. Gesturing for Satoru to take it.

“I didn’t read far into this because it felt like (Y/N) wanted someone else to read it.”

Satoru’s long fingers snatched the paper out of his teacher’s hands. His hands shake as he opens the paper up to see its contents.

It was a letter–from you.

His eyes slowly followed the words of your neatly written goodbye. His heart rips itself piece by piece as he continues reading. The guilt and shaming grew. He could feel the fatigue and jadedness from your thoughts. But the last paragraph makes Satoru’s heart hurt the worst. Your frustration was transformed into desperation for a new life, a fresh start. Away from the endless curses and scrutiny of the higher-ups, away from the pain and hopelessness, away from it all. You didn’t want to throw your life away. You just wanted to live. Then, you end the letter with an apology. Saying sorry because you couldn’t tell them your honest thoughts, for not facing them in your departure, for not trying hard enough for everyone when it was needed. Then, the last line of your apology made Satoru’s blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I’m sorry for being weak.’

He knew that line was for him 100 percent. You wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t tell you. To Satoru, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologizing. It should be him. He was the one who yelled at you and said those cruel and discouraging things to you. The one who pushed you away and didn’t allow you a chance to help. Fuck, he had the audacity to use his infinity against you. How dare he do that to you, his best friend the girl he fell in love with. His teeth clenched so hard out of pure anger they could crack. The anger he felt for himself was tremendous. He was angry at Suguru, the higher-ups, and Jujutsu Society. Angry at himself for being so stubborn and prideful, for waiting too long to act and apologize. But above all else, he was angry at what had become of the situation. Fully knowing he could do nothing to change anything as already was set in stone.

If he hadn’t been so prideful, he would’ve apologized to you sooner. If he didn’t blow up at you, you wouldn't become broken and hurt. If only he didn’t push you away, maybe you would have stayed– stayed by his side. But ‘if onlys’ are regrets from the past of the current reality. Now, he is living in it with the consequences of his own actions.

This is the price Satoru had to pay. He lost the only remnant that got him through this world by pushing you away. He lost his only two best friends in the world with no way of fixing it. 

The price of becoming the strongest came at the expense of two of his most dearest friends.

Suguru was gone.

You were gone.

Forever with no signs of ever coming back to him. 

In the end, Satoru Gojo was, truly, alone.

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

alright let’s go over the junior year clues we got in the rick perry documentary thing (disclaimer: i’ve definitely missed stuff, but i think i got the big things, feel free to reblog and add with stuff that i missed though)

[at the bottom of this post I've typed out the decipherable words that plan out some combats and NPCs from Rick's screen. it's the most interesting thing but it's super long so it's at the bottom under a cut]

We get a blurry look at some minis. I’m seeing at least the PC’s minis, as well as what looks like Baxter the Gryphon.

There’s some major shots of this battle. Includes a Baby mini, the Hangvan with some kind of laser canon on top, a stingray-esque monster that is likely Night Yorb (see below), something that looks like maybe an ice elemental or the crystal (see below), and some large bugs and shirtless people. Clearly set in the Red Wastes. Detailed info of the planning for this battle below.

One of the shots had reference boards in the background. One is clearly for the Hangvan (see earlier screencaps), but the other is unclear. It looks like it includes some sort of tennis or tennis-adjacent sport.

Confirmation that Mordred Manor is a set piece.

Finally, one shot showed Rick’s computer screen with some critical info about planning. I’ve put what I’ve been able to decipher below the screencaps. and under a cut, as it’s very long.

EP. 701 DEFEATING NIGHT YORB CHASE (RED WASTES) Hangvan, Night Yorb is giant flying Manta Ray thing? Rainbow road, being chased by night yorb while trying to throw crystal into portal. Crazy gun on rough [roof] that gorgug made, I can’t get a lock on it. Just need one last final thing to defeat night yorb. Red wastes, chasing the night yorb around, flying bats teleporting onto rough [roof] of van, NPC allies, Balthazar, two other cars they are in contact with, tiefling bakers or sidekicks are reveals Stormchaser twister, trying to get a lock onto it, Night Yorb is escaping the world. Maybe night yorb gets away, why didn [didn’t] you get it? And Balthazar died? Murph invented the Night Yorb. Don’t fuck with the Night Yorb. Exploded out of riz’s chest, needs to be dumb as hell. it’s the jabberwocky, it burbled, hugely terrifying, Horrifying cursed thing. Unending night for two months. Dragon sized, bigger than the Hang Van, 30’ wingspan Stars and moon. While the night yorb flies it is night and not day. Not malevolent force, but everything on earth will die Have giant ghost busters canon, Honey I shrunk the kids cannon Driver, mechanic, gunner, navigator (using SW 5e mechanics) Hang Man - Fabian motorcycle Tether is attached to night yorb, either magic or harpoon Night Yorb could out pace them. Could smash van. Cultist of the night yorb appearing on the road, mad max style ”The night yorb is our god” Red Wastes Cultists: Riding skeleton horses, classic fantasy cultists, Manta ray night yorb masks Sword and Sorcery vibes, MUSCELY, oiled, black leather, rings Shadow of Night Yorb Tether must be reeled in over 4 rounds Success Meter - 4 rounds or it escapes Pop up cultists in the middle of the road 4 maps Straight away, gully bridge crossing, rap popping up, giant portal It’s going to another world but if it gets away thats just as bad Ayada [Ayda?] thing built in. Chekov’s gun. Gun has cool helix of energy that is getting cranked in. Gun is on the back and on the hood is a binding circle that Adaine does. Cultists are making the portal. YORBIES if they catch it, it gets bound into the paint of their van Gun is gorgug’s stuff and circle is adaine 6 cultist perusing them, 4 or 5 at the portal, 1 or 2 back up Single person traps, Vulture with cactus MINIS: Night Yorb - Giant shadowy manta ray, inky black dripping, made of liquid, different underbelly, deep indigo or bone white. Made of shadows, dripping aberration, flat plane, long tail, two weird eyes coming off front on stalks. Second set of PCs TERRAIN: Red Wastes! NOTES: favorite crazy dnd monsters, beholder, [unclear word, bu…ette] Fungal Black light portal battle! Dr. Strange battle set, pseudo pods of elder pod night yorb, day glow run fragments, purple stone castle night yorb temple, floor is octopus made of shadows. Starting mid battle. [blank sections] PROJECTION: Counter here of some kind?

POTENTIAL LOCATIONS Basrar’s icecream shop? Mordred Manor Seacaster Manor [crossed out] Strong Tower Luxury Apartments SAT Prep class [screen cuts off]

EP. 704 DENTENTION [detention] STEALTH CHASE SEQUENCE/ QUIET LIBRARY/ Aguefort chase sequence? Combine sets interrupted by having to make it past a hall monitor Underwater? Books suspended floating, everything is affected by water Don’t wake daddy? Start in Library to get to Aguefort’s office Hallway Classroom Bathroom Lockerroom [blank sections] DYNAMIC ELEMENT: Water

CONCEPTS Dicks! SPIRITUAL GUARDIANS - Full service on minis, summons, etc Psycadelic fungal giant, black light, trippy, beautiful Revisiting old set [screen cuts off]

[fyi everything past this point was very blurry, so I could only decipher pieces here and there]

EP. 706 OUTDOOR CONCERT COACHELLA Music feature? Flaming [?], giant [?] [???] Fig and Gorgug on stage [???] Lighting effects, [???] Floating stage or something [???] Demons? PROJECTION: Lasers?

NPCS/ VILLAINS/ MONSTERS/ ETC. PORTER CLIFFBREAKER is secret servant of nightmare king tactical battlefield combat that [?] 2-3 times larger than PCs LED buried inside him [???] Porter was [???] basketball player [screen cuts off]

[the rest was too blurry to make out anything other than a blank section titled ROLE PLAY/ NEUTRAL BOARD and a section that seems to be for EP. 708 and says EXTRA with some blurry words after it]

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 3 - Dragonstone

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, does scary Vermithor count lol?

Masterlist

"In 107 AC, after the first day of Princess Rhaenyra's name day celebrations, she and her cousin, Princess Daena, went to the Dragonpit to visit Rhaenyra's dragon, Syrax. But instead, they were met with the sight of Daena's father, Prince Daemon, and his blood-red dragon, Caraxes. Daemon took Daena to the ancestral seat of House Targaryen - Dragonstone. It was said he took her to the dark, grim caves below the castle. Nobody truly knows what happened down there. But what is known is that on that day, Princess Daena proved to everyone the strength of her Targaryen blood by claiming the dragon of the Old King Jaeherys - Vermithor, the Bronze Fury."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

It was the most amazing feeling in the world. As Caraxes flew over King's Landing and headed toward Blackwater Bay, Daena could see the entire city. She could see the Red Keep, the Dragonpit, and the Sept. Her father held her with one of his strong hands. 

"Embrot!" (Down!) Her father commanded and Caraxes dipped down. Daena screamed, not expecting it. Her silver hair whipped in the air and she could feel the wind whipping at her skin, but she didn't care. She felt alive. She felt happy. She felt free. If this is how she felt flying on someone's dragon, she could only imagine how it would feel if she had her own. As they flew over the Blackwater River and out into the sea, she realized where they were going - Dragonstone. 

Soon, she was able to make out the island of Dragonstone. Thankfully, today was a bright and sunny day, even above the usually gloomy island. The sky was blue and clear, with no cloud in sight. As they flew closer and closer, Daena could now clearly see the sharp edges of the castle. A grim place, Dragonstone was built by Valyrians with arcane arts, fire, and sorcery. 

"Tegot!" (Land!) Her father said and Caraxes started to descend. They flew down and made a circle around the castle. They landed on one of the beaches. 

"Kesīr iksi, dōna riña. Zaldrīzesdōron." (Here we are, sweet girl. Dragonstone.) Her father whispered in her ear as he unfastened all the protective belts and chains that were keeping them safely seated on the saddle. He helped her down. She did most of it herself, but quite clumsily. Daemon chuckled as Daena almost tripped and fell, but he caught her. 

"Kepa... ȳdra daor sōpagon rȳ nyke!" (Father...Don't laugh at me!) Daena huffed, her cheeks red from the flying and embarrassment. 

"Forgive me, sweet girl. You just look so adorable when you're angry." Daemon jested. Daena huffed and turned her head dramatically. They were soon greeted by some of the knights who lived on Dragonstone and the castle maester, Gerardys.  

"Prince Daemon...Princess Daena. We were not expecting you here. We were told you were in the capital, celebrating Princess Rhaenyra's name day." Maester Gerardys said in a soft voice. He was an elderly man, though not as old or bald as Grandmeaster Mellos, Daena noticed.

"I came here for business, not for pleasure." Daemon bit back, already annoyed with the maester. 

"And what would that business be, my Prince?" The maester asked. Daemon wanted to curse him off, but remembering his daughter was with him, he held his tongue.

"Getting my precious Daena a dragon, of course," Daemon said with a wide smile. Daena whipped her head up to look at her father. She didn't know! She had no idea this was happening. 

"Really? Father, do you mean it?" Daena asked, shocked. Daemon nodded with a smile reserved only for her and took her little hand into his. They were now heading for the castle. If Daena thought the castle was dark and grim from the outside, once she entered it, she realized the inside was even darker. 

~

After supper, she was shown to the room she would be residing in. It was a cavernous place, that looked more like a cave rather than a room, but she liked it. She put her hand on the hard, stone walls - they were warm. There was a large bed, a chest of drawers, a closet, and a big window high on the wall that let the sunlight in.

She lay on her bed and just enjoyed the ambiance and warmth of Dragonstone. She thought of her father's words - that he was going to get her a dragon. It seemed almost impossible in her mind, you don't just get a dragon, you have to earn the right, and you have to bond with one. But she knew one thing was true, her father was a man of his word and would try his best to help her claim a dragon.

She didn't even notice falling asleep. The bed was warm and cozy, how could she not? She slept a dreamless sleep. The sun set and darkness fell upon the island. Daena could feel herself slowly waking up. She was in between two states - sleep and reality. While her mind barely clung to sleep, she felt something tugging at her consciousness. Something was calling for her. A distant roar could be heard. Suddenly the image of the Old King's funeral came into her mind. But why?

She was a mere toddler back then. All she remembers was the sadness in the air and how quiet it was. But the feeling in her heart told her it wasn't that. Then, she remembered - a great, bronze creature came into her mind. 

"Vermithor" -  the dragon of her great grandfather, King Jaeherys. She remembers him burning the Old King's funeral pyre. The second largest dragon in Westeros, he was a formidable beast. Yet even back then, at the tender age of three, she was not afraid rather she was fascinated. 

Daena woke up with her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Her hands were clammy and her face was covered in sweat. Her feet were numb and she could barely see a thing. Only one thing was on her mind - "I need to see him! I need to find Vermithor!". 

She slowly regained control of her body and realized it was the middle of the night. There would be no more sleep for her that night, so she decided there was only one logical thing to do - sneak out to the caves and find the Bronze Fury. She quickly dressed back into the black riding suit Rhaenyra lent her the previous day. Not bothering to braid her hair, she hastily ran through it with a comb. 

Putting on her leather boots she nervously approached her room door. How would she leave unseen if there was a guard in front? Praying to the gods above under her breath, she carefully opened the door. She looked around - the hallway was empty and dimly lit by a few torches. She exhaled in relief. 

"Now, all I need to do is find a way to the caves...and then hope I don't become dragon food." Daena thought as she silently walked through the hallways. The castle was deadly silent, almost to an uncomfortable degree. It was eerie and dark, like something out of a scary ghost story her mother used to read her back at Runestone. She knew she couldn't leave from the main exit - she would get caught instantly. Therefore she went to the kitchens, which were also thankfully empty. She slipped out of the back door and closed it carefully. 

She turned and saw nothing but darkness. The wind was cold and whipped her hair around. She had no idea where she was going but her heart guided her anyway, and she made sure to listen to it. Making sure to avoid any busy spots, Daena somehow ended up in front of the caves.

"This is it...Now or never." She whispered to herself as she took in the scent of the salty air around her. As she entered the cave, she swore she felt a deep rumble reverberate through her chest. Soon, her life would change forever.

~

With no torch in hand, she was practically blind - it was pitch dark in the caves. She had to rely on her instincts and pure luck. Surprisingly, it wasn't cold in the caves, on the contrary, it was warm and the air smelled of ash and burnt flesh. She took many blind turns and hit many dead ends. After a while, Daena felt herself becoming frustrated and she started regretting leaving her room.

 "Father is going to kill me...If a dragon doesn't snatch me first." She thought darkly as she hit another dead end. She slumped against the rigid walls, now starting to panic. She was lost in a dark cave full of dragons. She closed her eyes, not allowing her tears to spill. In that moment she felt the same sensation she felt while asleep - a dull ache deep in her chest. Then, the ground trembled. 

What surprised her the most was that she wasn't afraid - the rumble only made her more determined to find what she was looking for. Taking a deep breath, Daena focused on the ache in her heart. 

"You're calling me...You want me to find you...I will find you." She spoke to the great beast that was calling for her. In a trance-like state, she walked slowly and followed the invisible string connecting their hearts. She walked and soon came upon a giant stone door. In front of it were two torches, lighting up the hallway. She somehow managed to pull one out of the brazier. 

She then walked toward the door and touched the handle - "I have to do this! It's the only way...I have to prove the strength of my dragon blood!" Daena told herself and then she pushed the door open.

The door creaked loudly and the sound made her cringe. Holding her torch high above her head, she walked carefully and observed the room she was in. She couldn't see far away but she could see high stone pillars all around and a large staircase that led up toward a stone platform.

Determined to prove herself, Daena went up the staircase, step by step. Once she reached the top, the ache in her heart disappeared and was replaced by a warmth that spread through her body. She put the torch down on the ground. As she moved closer to the edge of the platform she would meet eye-to-eye with the Bronze Fury himself - Vermithor. 

Vermithor shot a blast of fire through the air, lighting up the entire cave. Daena was in awe. Awe and shock, that is what she was feeling. He was a fearsome beast of almost a hundred years, only bested in size by Vhagar herself. He roared in her face, the sound reverberating through her entire body. Her eyes were wide with fascination and respect. 

He had scales that were the color of bronze and great tan wings. Her lilac eyes met his amber ones. He took a whiff of her scent, blowing her hair back. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own heart beating loudly in her chest. She took a deep breath and in a soft voice sang in the language of her ancestors. 

"Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis.

Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis, Se gēlȳn irūdaks, Ānogrose. 

Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan. 

Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī. "

High Valyrian:

Embrot! - Down!

Tegot! - Land!

Kesīr iksi, dōna riña. Zaldrīzesdōron. - Here we are, sweet girl. Dragonstone.

Kepa... ȳdra daor sōpagon rȳ nyke! - Father...Don't laugh at me!

The song lyrics: 

Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis.

(Fire breather, Winged leader, But two heads To a third sing)

Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis Se gēlȳn irūdaks Ānogrose. 

(From my voice: The fires have spoken And the price has been paid With blood magic)

 Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan. 

(With words of flame With clear eyes To bind the three To you I sing)

Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī. "

(As one we gather And with three heads We shall fly as we were destined. Beautifully, freely)

***

It finally happened! In the future chapters, we'll see how grandpa Vermy and Daena bond.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[devilheartsblog]

So I’m making a Winx rewrite and decided to doodle some ideas and explain them below

I think it was a missed opportunity since Orgon is literally the Wizard of absorption and should have the ability to mimic powers after stealing them instead of absorbing their strength. I also changed the White Circle to be a weapon against the Wizards without any Earth Fairies being trapped inside of it cause in my rewrite they’re all dead (except Morgana and Roxy). Maybe they’ll appear as ghosts or something.

I don’t really remember if Roxy had mommy issues but I’m giving her that and her dad wife issues. She left haphazardly and Klaus didn’t get his memory wiped of her, so he resents her for leaving and essentially abandoning him and Roxy. Roxy would want to know of her mother more which makes them clash

Riven being jealous and butting heads with Musa was the only melodrama I thought fit, but the whole Jason Queen record deal thing isn’t really brought up after Season 4. And yeah here Jason Queen’s offer to Musa ends up putting a wedge in their relationship because that means she’ll be staying on Earth while Riven returns to Red Fountain, kinda like a couple separate worldwide which is quite hard for him.

I’m actually not 100% sure if it’s cannon, but it’s cannon in my rewrite soooo yeah

This is a weird one but HEAR ME OUT-

So Duman gets badly hurt and Nabu helps right? I didn’t like the idea of the wizards pretending to be allies before backstabbing the good guys, then Nabu dies and they just became lame. I plan to give most wizards a redemption arc and it starts with Gantlos and Nabu trucing for a bit to find a cure for Duman’s illness (caused by the white circle casting some spell on them, hence why they destroyed the other white circles). Gantlos gets Nabu’s help since he’s a wizard, the most cooperative and it’s the least awkward option. I like to imagine he calls Nabu a rookie in sorcery lmao

That’s it for now, and I have the first 2 episodes done for the rewrite

[izzabela]

Gotta Catch 'Em All - Kenshi Takahashi x fem!reader

in which a certain swordsman has a hard time with you and your little friends

a/n: tumblr buggin. i think the requester said i could make it with any earthrealm character, so i choose kenshi! if you requested this, comment or shoot me a DM!

ship[s]: kenshi takahashi x fem!reader

warning(s): shameless self-insert of favorite pokémon, post-story, no (y/n) bull, hater to lover?

[look at them. loverbirds]

=====================

You sigh sadly as you sat alone under a cherry blossom tree in the Wu Shi Academy. Despite the clear joy on your pokèmon's faces, you couldn't help but be doleful as you thought about the recent events in your life.

You were on your Charizard's back, soaring through unending skies of your home in the Sinnoh region. You had come home from your travels to the Galar region and wanted to take a break by flying.

One minute, you, Charizard, and Noivern were happily flying through the clouds. Free-wheeling, diving, and looping over one another as your companions stretched their wings and flew high above the ground.

The next minute, you were downed by a flying lightning man. Forced to land, you were circled in by orange-clad people as their hands and weapons were pointed at you and your friends. It didn't help that they were both knocked out by a swordsman in a suit and tie. He had used the back of his sword to knock into the pressure point of each pokèmon's body.

How he knew where they were would remain a mystery.

You saw red at the sight of your companions limp bodies. The trauma your pokèmon had, since they had come from a background of abuse. They were rescues, all of them, diligently taken care of by you when you found them at their worst.

You remembered the rest of your pokèmon coming out as well. Your Metagross, Gardevoire, and Luxray protecting you in a defensive circle.

The madness only stopped when a man with glowing eyes, who you now knew as Liu Kang, came in and ended the scuffle. You immediately went to your flying companions' side, crying at the sight of their disabled bodies.

After reviving them with a spray, you allowed him to ask you questions. Who you were, where you were from, what timeline you were part of- you answered his silly questions honestly. Thanks to his good judgement, he let you go, but not without answers of his own.

He told you about their world. How their world was full of magic and sorcery, gods and goddesses, and bizarre things you only read in light novels. He introduced you to his own friend, Geras, who was the Keeper of Time and protector of the hourglass.

After relaying your story to him, they concluded you were not a threat, but an unfortunate accident of a pervious situation that happened. You were ordered to stay at the Wu Shi Academy, under the careful gazes of his champions, until they were able to bring you home.

Days turned into weekS, and weeks turned into months. Right now, it marked the seventh month you had no sign of going home. Despite the bleak situation, you had made the most of it by making friends.

Johnny Cage was by far the easiest to befriend. Easy to talk to, extroverted, and a natural people-person, you found his egotistical self a joy to be around. He asked you many questions of your world and pokèmon, taking pictures of them- even asking if he could come home with you to see more. He got in trouble with your Metagross once, knocking on his metallic head and getting a small Bullet Punch in response.

Kung Lao was similar in that regard, except he was filled with more pranks than a ten year old child. Yes, he checked up on you from time to time, but he mostly played with your pokèmon and included them in his pranks and bets. He once led your Noivern to scare Raiden's little sister as she was given a tour by a couple of monks. Poor girl, spooked out of her wits. Your Noivern was also quite shaken, following her to try and make it up to her.

And speaking of Raiden, he was by far the kindest one to you and your pokèmon. He offered to feed them, play with them, even bathe them with you. You rewarded him with your Pokèdex, showing him all the pokèmon that you had encountered on your journeys. The way his eyes sparkled with curiosity, asking questions about their evolutions, origins, and more.

The only person you couldn't get past was Kenshi Takahashi. His face was plastered with a constant, unreadable emotion, and the sunglasses didn't help his case. He always avoided you, whether with his eyes or his entire body. He also spoke very little with you, and seldom did you see him with your pokémon- granted, did you ever see him with your pokémon?

He also had his hand on his sword, Sento. Every time you saw him, his hand was always on his handle. You knew that it was to aid his handicap, his vision taken from him during an incident that proceeded you.

Why he avoided you, you didn't know. Perhaps it had to do with the knocking-out of your pokèmon, but you had let that go due to the fact he did it out of defense. Perhaps it's what you said, but you couldn't think of a time where you held a conversation with him. Maybe it was the way you looked at him? But his vision was only there for him to see, not truly allow him to use it to enjoy life.

Which brings us back to where we started- you sitting under the cherry blossom tree as you watched your companions playing and roughhousing with one another. You pick at the grass you sat upon, unknowing to the group of men that stood behind a circular concrete opening.

"There she is!" Kung Lao whispered with a pointing finger.

"Well not shit, razor-rang," Johnny scoffs. "Come on, Ken-doll, go and talk to her!"

Kenshi is behind all his friends as he breathes a sigh. He's nervous, but his mastery over his facial expressions allows him to keep his truth close to his chest.

Kenshi had been avoiding you for the entirety you had been here due to the fact he felt bad for tranquing your pokèmon. He had been trying to get closer to you, but he couldn't bare to hear your scared voice. That was how badly the entire debacle had been affecting him.

"Don't egg him on," Raiden scolds, "Kenshi knows what he's doing." He turns to face his friend again to try and read for any sign of discomfort.

Kenshi just looks at him with a light smile, and Raiden takes it as a sign to not push further. He then takes the other two men to leave the swordsman alone.

"But we want to watch!" Kung Lao cries as he's dragged away. Kenshi's stealth is no use as your head turns at the sudden voice. Only then does Kenshi come through the stone entrance, slightly stumbling. You get up at the sight of the swordsman, and your pokèmon stop playing as they're on high alert.

"K-Kenshi," you stuttered, but composed yourself as you greet him. "A surprise this is. To what do I owe you the pleasure?"

You're over the moon with his presence. In seven months, Kenshi finally came around. Albeit, it a confrontational way, but you were open to it so long as you made him your friend. However, you note how... unprofessional(?) he looks.

Scrutinizing his every move, you watch his body language. How his head moves askance, trying to avoid "looking" at you. He shifts his bodyweight from his right to his left leg, and you see his fingers rhythmically tap the scabbard of his sword.

"Earthrealm's Greatest Swordsman" was nervous.

On cue, your pokèmon are behind you as your ensemble. Like protectors, they watch the swordsman with great intent to make sure the events seven months ago do not transpire again. You command them with your hand up, stopping them from anymore advances. Regardless, you can feel the warmth coming from your Charizard's mouth as he stood directly over your shoulder.

"I, uh, just wanted to see if there were any updates on Lord Liu Kang's search for your way home?" You're dumbstruck over this conversation starter.

In the seven months you had made friends with everyone, this was the first time Kenshi spoke to you. The topic in which he chose to converse with you, however, set in stone your thoughts on how he thought about you. Any hope you had in allying yourself with him was gone, and it was evident in your response.

"O-oh," you say, a little dejected. "Well, no, Liu Kang hasn't found any leads."

That was a half-lie. Liu Kang mentioned to you in the last week that he found the faintest tether to your world, but he would need more time to make the connection more stable. In the mean time, you were to remain alert.

Kenshi didn't know this, though. And you intend to keep it that way as you went back to sitting on your bum on the warm grass, telling your pokèmon to scatter and play once more. Kenshi is stunned at your response, but he doesn't relent.

"I, uh," he clears his throat. "I would like to apologize for what happened a while back."

Your head turns up to see Kenshi, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands where he is. His brows are scrunched together, a look of contemplation and regret as his apology rings out in the air. You sigh and let your head hang.

"Kenshi I-. Agh, it's fine, really." It's now awkward as you begin to pick at the grass, trying to fill the silence that envelopes both of you.

Kenshi takes his own seat next to you, and you're reddening at how his shoulder brushes against yours. Thankfully, his sight only limits him to see shades of teal and black, so he can't see how flushed you've become.

"I didn't mean to avoid you," he begins as he watches your pokèmon play. "I just felt... guilty? Shameful? Whatever words describe the gnawing feeling in your chest."

You give him an upside-down smile, gently shoving at his shoulder.

"You knocked my pokèmon out! At the very moment we met, you knocked them out at their pressure points- how did you know?"

Kenshi can hear your playful tone as his shoulder relax a bit more. He snickers as he rubs his nose.

"I mean, it's no different than any other animal," he explains, thumb rubbing over the sheath of his sword. "I have experience with things like these."

And he begins to tell you stories about his missions with the OIA, an organization that investigates the weird and wacky that happens in this world. He talks of dragons that tower over skyscrapers, great battles across realms, and more fantastical tales of his adventures.

You hadn't even realized that your pokèmon had begun to crowd around you two. Luxray had nuzzled himself in between you and Kenshi, his head leaning towards the tattooed man's hand. Noivern had situated herself upside-down on the tree above you two.

Charizard sat behind you both, while Metagross put his arms close to himself to indicate rest. Finally, Gardevoire sat next to you, purring her name as her hand was on your leg.

"You seem to have a strong bond between your companions," he envies, unsheathing his sword.

"Is your sword not animate?" you ask, "Johnny mentioned that it could move."

He awes you as he focuses his energy to move the sword up and down, spinning it in its place as a blue light was emitted from it.

"Amazing!" you clap. Kenshi smirks a bit as he recalls his sword back into its sheath.

The rest of the day wastes away as you two conversed amongst yourselves. Finally, you had caught all of your friends, especially the rare Kenshi Takahashi, and put them into the database of your memories.

=====================

aighr, ain't gonna lie, i restarted this fic three times because i couldn't find a way to incorporate a beginning

requester, i hope you enjoyed your prompt come to life!

i've got a couple more fics on the way, so stay tuned in

i'll see yall in the next fic!

[dirtyriver]

"Die in the Name of the Law!" in Red Circle Sorcery #8, August 1974, written by Marv Channing, art by Gray Morrow

This story was published in a B&W digest in France in 1977 and has been a favorite of mine ever since. Gray Morrow's art is gorgeous in black and white.

And of course this story of a modern person obessed with pulp heroes resonated with me, like Copperhead would in Daredevil #124-125 a few years later.

Daredevil #124, August 1975, art by Gene Colan (pencils) and Klaus Janson (inks)

Daredevil #125, September 1975, original art by Bob Brown (pencils) and Klaus Janson (inks)

I love pulps, I love stories about pulps, and I love fictional books and magazines. Those two stories were made for me.

[weirdlookindog]

Chilling Adventures in Sorcery #5 - Archie/Red Circle Comics Group, February 1974. Cover art by Gray Morrow.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Magic System, But Badly Tag! (1)

Thank you so much for the tag @cowboybrunch (here)!

Rules: Explain the magic system of your current WIP as poorly as possible. Bonus points if you use bullet points.

Let's talk about the magic system of Song of Thorns (:

Elemental

ATLA vibes but medieval

someone really should keep an eye on the Initiates - these angsty teenagers with a god complex should not be left unattended

Powers range from "Look, I can light a candle with the tip of my finger, isn't it neat?" to "I CAN CONTROL THE STORMS, FEAR ME" and it is complicated

Lesson No. 1 - Don't trust the nice instructors on the weird-looking trial maze or you will die = STREET SMARTS

who cares about reading all those ancient tomes, let's improvise in the middle of an untamed wilderness or ocean brimming with wild magic, now that's a good idea

Animus Codex

soul magic with a celestial's blessing

can weave fates, lives, and entire existences with a series of secret runes on a specific set of cards/tablets

a select group of people know what tf is going on with this magic but everyone is too afraid to really ask

rune casting requires ancient magic components that definitely are anything but safe

either the celestials loved this civilization way too much or hated it with a passion

Sanguinex Arts (human only)

Lazy human royals really wanted to be vampires but didn't want to transform themselves and made it everyone's problem

"Can I copy your homework?" "No, absolutely not -!" "Too late already did it."

A cheap knockoff of something beyond mortal comprehension created by an insane set of human sorcerers who could not give less of a fuck

"I think I understand how they do it" - they did not, in fact understand how it was done

Feast your eyes on the eldritch abominations and trauma inducing shite created by human stupidity at its finest

A distortion of all that is moral and decent, used by the royals to expand their lifespans and oppress those who do not have access to their power

A generally bad time

Traditional Hemomancy (Vampyr/Fey only)

an ancient Vampyr tradition, tied to their very existence (and which was cheaply copied by humans to create the Sanguinex)

"General rule of thumb - do not piss off a vampire who has something or someone to protect, unless you fancy seeing how your insides look on the outsides"

Create & Destroy, Life & Death - this magic can heal or kill and is connected to the balance of nature

Blood Magic mixed with Matter Manipulation

"Roses are red, violets are blue, if the moon turns crimson you'll die soon" - a lesson some characters in this book should've learned before venturing further into this land

generally chill and laid back sorcerers who really don't want to have to use their powers to hurt people and just wanna have a good time

Alchemical Sorcery

Fucked Around and Found Out, Special Edition.

Potions slowly change you to be able to cast magic but it's fine because you know what you're doing. Hopefully.

Chemical components and suspicious magical ingredients create unforeseen creations = chemistry magic

You are cursed with the knowledge you wish you never had

Need to go to an elite academia to get a certificate permission in case you blow stuff up with your alchemy

Let's shape the very matter of existence after chemistry class 101

Melodis Mortem (forbidden)

"The Song of the Dead" - just a fancy name for a bunch of academia dropouts practicing off-the-book necromancy in a cult.

Let's raise your great-grandpa from beyond the grave because what could possibly go wrong- and he is now a murderous ghoul. Yeah, my bad. We'll do better next time.

Necromancer bards

All these books, guidelines and bloodied ritual circles might just be a way of hiding the fact they don't know what tf they're doing and are relying on lucky improv most of the time.

🎶Spooky scary skeletons send shivers down your spine🎶

"Well, well, well if it isn't the Consequences of my actions."

Mechana Ignis (elven only, secret)

combustion magic

steampunk/solarpunk elf society

gunpowder/"Sunpowder" go brr

"Nah, we ain't sharing this with you lunatics, bruv. This is our magic that goes boom and pew-pew on command. Not yours, nuh-uh, you're too fucking crazy to use it responsibly."

elves bored with eternity decide to do cool science stuff to pass the time and the world isn't ready for it

Tagging: @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[ladyhallen]

A Lovely Morning

Harry had never given any thought to art.

She’d once or twice thought about the museum tours she’d had as a preschooler in the muggle world, and then the occasional painting she would pass with the thought of, “Wow, that’s really pretty.” She hadn’t thought about making art, with words or with images, until she saw Fon under the light of dawn.

Usually, she slept until Fon woke her with sweet kisses and coaxed her to sit down. He’d comb her hair and that, along with the gentle circles he’d press on her lower back, was enough to wake her up. It was more effective than coffee and a hell lot more effective than tea.

By some sorcery, she’d woken up a scant few minutes after Fon that day. He’d gone out to do his usual calisthenics, naked save for the pair of silk trousers and slipping on his cloth slippers. Harry had wanted to roll back to bed when she’d seen the absolute lack of sunlight, but something urged her to get up.

And by Merlin, was she glad she’d gotten up.

She hadn’t ever really thought of human bodies as beautiful. She could objectively say one person had nice arms or a pretty interesting eye color. But in a magical world where anything interesting was usually because they had an inhuman ancestor, she didn’t place much value in looks. She’d seen incredibly beautiful people and knew that the stories they had were more interesting than their faces.

While Fon’s face had drawn her in, she fell in love with his calm rationality and the way he could lay out an argument without shouting.

And while she and Fon had lain with each other for upwards to two months and she’d seen him naked in the hot springs more times than she can count, seeing him exercise was different.

There was an economy to his movements. It was clean and confident, nothing wasted as he moved his limbs and his body in twists and turns. Then he did a slow upward stroke that flexed his back muscles, making her tummy clench and Harry bit back a gasp. When he folded over, hugging his knees for five seconds, Harry clutched the doorway at the way it made his ass flex.

“Good morning, Harry,” he greeted her, flipping over on a handstand with his braided hair coiled around his neck. “This is a nice surprise.”

Morgana bless him and his intense focus. He didn’t notice that she was about to faint from her face going so red. Harry was so glad.

“Good morning,” she said, not at all strangled and sounding like a normal person. She checked for drool. “I have no idea what woke me.”

He then did a move that she knew, a downward dog that was just one hundred percent showing off right now. He wasn’t even sweating!

Harry wished, very fervently, that she knew how to write poetry. Or to draw. Poems should be written about the way the faintest light of dawn brushed across Fon’s muscles. Art should be drawn about that beautiful face closed in concentration, at the play of light and dark over his cheekbones. Instead, she was stuck admiring him with no way to immortalize the moment. Harry cursed her past self for thinking of art as boring.

Unwittingly, she whispered, “Full many a glorious morning have I seen,” A quiet whisper that should not be heard, except Fon had excellent hearing.

He fell out of his pose with a blush. “Harry!” he exclaimed, flustered.

This man. Harry had heard him say the dirtiest things. She’d shared a naked bath with him. She had done a lot of unspeakable things to him and with him. Fon was unfazed and coy, the teasing man.

But recite poetry and he blushed!

Harry had to laugh. “You should see dawn’s light touch you, Fon. It almost makes me jealous, the way it caresses you,” she mused, raking her eyes over his bare torso.

Fon rushed to kiss her, shutting her up.

But Harry realized, as she clutched at his shoulders when he carried her in his arms that yes, she can write poetry. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just heartfelt. Fon clearly appreciated it.

This was how sonnets were made, she mused, exchanging sweet kisses with him. Then he lay her down and Harry forgot to think of anything at all.

[galderthefuzzy]

The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker

(BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead)

The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker (BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead) begins in a way unlike most any other drow; in the light of the sun. Having abandoned the Underdark before even learning to speak, this child was shielded from Lolth's cruel embrace by her war-dancer parents for most of her younger years. At a tender age no older than twelve, she and her childhood friends were caught unawares by a drider in the forest, whose vile poison cost her nearly all those she held dear. Seeing the danger posed by her under-dwelling kin and their dark spider-goddess, the young drow made a vow to herself, to help nature reclaim balance in the world, and expunge all those who would seek to harm rather than help. Upon coming of age, Myrkalfa would grow into the Circle of the Moon, mastering the art of shapeshifting in accordance with the teachings of Elistraee as she spoke to the drow people: “A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow.”After escaping the crashed nautiloid, Myrkalfa would join forces with the charming evoker Gale Dekarios, as well as the fierce gith'yanki fighter Lae'zel and mercurial Sharran cleric Shadowheart.

By fighting shoulder to shoulder, and recruiting a host of allies with their valiance, they would travel from the hilt of the sword cost to famed city Baldur's Gate, slaying every evil in their path without heeding the call of the foul Emperor. With blade and sorcery, not a single epic opponent was spared their onslaught, from the immortal Ketheric Thorm to the undying Heart of the Gate. The Master of the House, the Murderer of Mothers, the Black Hand of Bane and his foul Titan Creation. In a single swoop of their combined might, four heroes did free this age of so many evils that they are honored still among the likes of High Harper Jaheira, Nerys Kathon of Kelemvor, and Minsc of Rashemen. And in so doing, found also the light within themselves, whether it be from the Prince of the Comet, Our Lady of Silver, the Mistress of Magic, or the bright wilds of the Dark Dancer.

Not a single tiefling life was lost for the actions of these heroes, and but an ally did fall in their fight against the Absolute. Friend Yurgir, in his zeal for battle, found himself poorly placed among the party's plans for Raphael. In so doing, he gave his life, the single friend lost to none other than fate itself. At their sides in the final fight though were Zevlor and his hellriders, Dammon and the owlbear cub, Rolan and the Arcane Tower, Dame Aylin and the cleric Isobel, Jaheira and her Harpers, Nine-Fingers and the Guild, Valeria and the City Watch, Duke Ravengard's personal guard, Florrick and the Flaming Fist, Halsin and Thaniel, the free Gondians, Arabella, Mol, the Gur monster hunters, Kith'rak Voss and his red dragon, Orpheus the Prince of the Comet, and Volo the Chronicler.In the end, Shadowheart freed her parents from the shadowy grip of Shar, instead embracing the Life Domain and the teachings of the goddess Selûne. Lae'zel saw the flawed ways of the lich-queen, choosing rather to follow the teachings of the fallen Prince Orpheus, and in their name, journeying to the lands of the gith'zerai.

Gale Dekarios, formerly Gale of Waterdeep, the Chosen of Mystra, became a professor of magic at Blackstaff Academy. Archdruid of the Moon Myrkalfa Earthshaker lived up to her namesake despite adopting a new surname, cleansing the shadowlands of Ketheric's taint and Shar's corruption and allowing nature's peace to flourish once more in Baldur's Gate. The parties were chosen to safeguard a Netherstone each. One with Shadowheart, always on the move. One with Lae'zel, beyond the cusp of the stars. And one with the Dekarios household. Those locations would seem obvious to some, but in truth, it is a dare. An invitation for the Dead Three, or any other force of evil to rear its foul maw again.

I had the pleasure to work on this piece for jæja. The project was quite exciting and very complex, but I have enjoyed every step and really like how it shaped up. As a fan of Bg3, it was quite a treat to be able to combine my stained glass style with some of our beloved companions. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you for commissioning me!

[talonabraxas]

I greet thee, thou that fillest the whole structure of the air, spirit that stretchest from heaven to earth... and to the confines of the abyss... spirit that also penetratest myself and leavest me again. Thou, the servant of the rays of the sun, that enlightenest the world... a great circular mysterious form of the universe, heavenly spirit, ethereal spirit, earthy, fiery, windy, light... dark spirit, that shinest like a star... Lord, god of the Aions... Ruler of everything.

'Zurvan Akarana' Talon Abraxas

ON ZURVAN AND SORCERY from my forthcoming book on the Black Mass.

Magic and Sorcery are two different knowledge traditions, where Sorcery by definition implies black magic, or perhaps even more red magic. It is the magic of fire, eroticism and blood, directly linked to what India is referred to as tantra and kundalini yoga. The word has etymological connections to "blood" and the color red, but is derived from the Latin sors, "fate", and is the knowledge to free oneself from the web of Fate and learn to rule over the cosmic web.

The goal of the LHP has its roots in the Persian Zurvan religion in part. Zurvan is a First Principle, the primordial creator deity who put the principles of good and evil, the twins, and Angra Mainyu and Ahura Mazda, also known as Ormudz and Ahriman (who has little to do with Rudolf Steiner's concept of Ahriman). By putting these principles in place, Mankind could choose to do good or harm. This is the manifestation of Karma, or Cosmic Law. Ordinary people are either connecting to good or evil. This is not pretending to be good, but doing good in actions. Zurvan is beyond time and space, beyond good and evil. Zurvan is the "one", the "alone, the Singularity with all multifold inside. The name Zurvan derives from the Middle Persian name derives from Avestan zruvan-, "time". Zurvan is Time but also because of that not under the control of Time. Zurvan is like Kali, or the gnostic Aeon and Abraxas, it is Sorath, also spelt Zurath, The Deity whose number is 666. When reaching the aura of Zurvan you become a True Sorcerer that is not trapped by the Web of Fate, but becomes The Spider. This is in the Draconian Tradition known as the mysterious NOXXON: Zurvan is The Ultimate Twin, but with the dualism united, and thus a form of both Thaumiel and Thagirion.

While white Magicians work with the circles of nature, the Sorcerer goes beyond black and white, into the Royal Color of Atlantis, the color Red that transcend beyond the dualism of our common world. The Sorcerer is on a a journey to the Existence free from the influence of The Zodiac, The Zodiac keep us in chains, but can be used by The Sorcerer. Red is also synonym to Gold,and this is an Golden Alchemical Art. Both the name Zurvan and Sorcery derive from words with connotations “time”, “fate” and “red” although perhaps from different etymological sources. To emphasize the connection Dragon Rouge sometime spell it Zorcery.

In the mysteries of Hellas Zurvan is associated with Saturn and Pluto, and to some extent Chronos , He lives in primordial Chaos, in Bythos ("depth or profundity", Greek βυθός), Proarkhe ("before the beginning", Greek προαρχή), the Arkhe ("the beginning", Greek ἀρχή), "Sophia" (wisdom). Another name for him is Zoe, which means “life” itself. Zurvan is the pure “Existence”, “Vital Force”, what is known as Kundalini by the Indians and the same as Vril and Odic Force. Zurvan is however not an abstract principle, but one of the most advanced, powerful Intelligences in Existence, far beyond anything we humans normally can grasp. A famous picture of Zuravn/Aeon/Abaxas is Leontocephaline, The Winged Lion-Serpent Son, the being that rules Thagirion, The Black Sun.

When I was in my twenties I woke up one night and as a physical manifestation Zurvan, or Abraxas as I knew the name, was rising above me. The wings were raised and the serpent around him was black and red and coiling around him looking at me. The serpent wound around the body seven turns and was radiating with the colors of the seven planets and chakras. The lower one was connected to wrought iron, which shows Zurvan's role as a figure who gives man knowledge and tools, like the Fallen Angels. At his feet I saw a rod of Caduceus shining with the light of the kundalini. He carried a staff and two keys, behind him he had a stone tablet that I could not read. The face was surrounded by a blinding strong light and I heard a weird sound as it came from the depth of the Universe and beyond. Zurvan spoke straight into my consciousness:

“You've seen me before, I have chosen you, but you do not remember our first meeting. You have entered my hall in the Black Sun with its 12 rays and 1001 gates. Take my staff, my keys and the stone tablet. In time, you will know how to use it.”

“The Fire that I am, burns all the debts and mistakes of Mankind, all guilt and all the burdens of Time. I am Fire! I only serve The Red Dragon, no one else. I am the key bearer and The Angel and Beast in one, and my number is 666. My appearance you know from ancient statues and drawings, but I am the Primal Picture, The Winged Lion-Serpent Son. That is the riddle to know me.”

“People must gather to fulfill the Prophecies, otherwise Mankind will end itself without my help. Then they are devoured by Angra Mainyu and lost in a Hell that is forever pain. Do good! Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you! Never forget The Golden Rule.

“Free yourself from both good and evil, from my angels Angra Mainyu and Ahura Mazda. Be free. Do good. Be a warrior. And I will show you how to use these keys and open the Door of Knowledge and the Door of Life. Go forward into The NIght and gather the lost and scattered people and help them find their True Self. Direct the path to the Black Sun and The Daemon with this staff. And follow the Sacred Law. It is The Law written by Lucifer.”

I was surrounded by a cloud of light in all colors and Zurvans words were absorbed right into my heart. I proclaimed: This is a Path with a Heart”

Zurvan was gone and the rest of the night I was in a state of half-sleep and lucid dreams about the objects Survan had handled over to me.