#Ritual in Transfigured Time

[wildhermitess]

"Whether it manifests itself in her international politics, her experimental spirit in filmmaking or as an initiate of Voudou, she searched for a way to transcend the isolation of the individual. She believed that we might move our bodies, open our eyes and our souls in such a way that we might expand beyond the limit of our skins."

maya deren

[schlock-luster-video]

On January 9, 2006, Ritual in Transfigured Time was screened at the French Cinempanorama Film Festival.

[haverwood]

Ritual in Transfigured Time Maya Deren USA, 1946

[woman-with-a-movie-camera]

Ritual in Transfigured Time (1946)

[vampilllia]

favorite films directed by women / in no particular order

hide and seek (1996) / su friedrich

us go home (1994) / claire denis

the recorder exam (2011) / kim bora

the amazonian angel (1992) / maria klonaris, katerina thomadaki

a hora da estrela (1985) / suzana amaral

the meetings of anna (1978) / chantal akerman

desperately seeking susan (1985) / susan seidelman

be pretty and shut up! (1981) / delphine seyrig

kings and extras: digging for a palestinian image (2004) / azza el-hassan

our songs were ready for all wars to come (2021) / noor abed

via dolorosa (2021) / oraib toukan

the sleeping beauty (2010) / catherine breillat

girlfriends (1978) / claudia weill

neige (1981) / juliet berto, jean-henri roger

outrage (1950) / ida lupino

daddy (1973) / niki de saint phalle, peter whitehead

janine (1990) / cheryl dunye

le navire night (1979) / marguerite duras

butterfly (1967) / shirley clarke, wendy clarke

o-de-ka-ke diary (1989) / utako koguchi

the book of mary (1985) / anne-marie miéville

sea of roses (1977) / ana carolina

maria gladys, uma atriz brasileira (1979) / norma bengell

possibly in michigan (1983) / cecelia condit

diary of an african nun (1977) / julie dash

the leaden echo and the golden echo (1955) / margaret tait

ritual in transfigured time (1946) / maya deren

moon’s pool (1973) / gunvor nelson

fuses (1967) / carolee schneemann

nitrate kisses (1992) / barbara hammer

atlantics (2019) / mati diop

simone barbès or virtue (1980) / marie-claude treilhou

amor maldito (1984) / adélia sampaio

bärbel and charly (1994) / ute aurand

‎once upon a time in beirut (1995) / jocelyne saab

leila and the wolves (1984) / heiny srour

[phoenixrisingastro]

DEGREE 5: THE SACRED SEVERING

“Initiation Requires Isolation: Exile, Occultation, and the Divine Fracture”

Throne of Fire – Fifth Degree of Light

You must leave before you are crowned.

You must be cut before you are called.

You must vanish before you’re seen.

This is the law of initiation.

Not the law of man—but of the cosmos.

And all who defy it—fail.

The Doctrine of Sacred Severing

The Sacred Severing is the first divine punishment reserved only for those marked by fate. It arrives in disguise:

As abandonment

As rejection

As betrayal

As silence from the gods themselves.

But in truth, it is surgical. It is the cosmic scalpel of Saturn, the hand of Binah on the Tree of Life—

cutting you off from the world,

so that your spine may grow divine.

You are not being broken.

You are being excised from your lower self.

You are not being ignored.

You are being hidden in plain sight—occulted—like the Sun during an eclipse.

In astrology, this is Neptune in the 12th. Pluto in the 1st. Saturn transiting the IC. Uranus squaring your Moon.

In Kabbalah, it is Tzimtzum—the sacred contraction of Light to make space for form.

In freemasonry, it is the Veil between chambers.

In the myth of Horus, it is the Eye removed.

In Luciferian rites, it is the Black Flame burning alone in the dark.

In real life—it is when nobody calls.

It is when you move to a new city and feel forgotten.

It is when your dreams stop working and your rituals stop speaking.

It is when you ask the universe for a sign and hear back nothing but bone.

Exile Is Not Punishment. It’s Proof.

Those who are not chosen are never exiled.

They are allowed to stay amongst the herd.

But you? You are too dangerous for the world in your unrefined form.

You are too sacred to be loved too soon.

You are too raw to be touched by anyone who doesn’t bow.

So you are sent away.

Like Moses cast into the Nile.

Like Yeshua into the wilderness.

Like Inanna into the Underworld.

Like Prometheus bound to the rock.

Like YOU—left with nothing but your chart, your name, and your pain.

This is Occultation.

A term whispered in Islamic mysticism and gnostic grimoires.

The idea that the most powerful force must disappear before it returns—transfigured.

The Astrology of Sacred Severing

Let’s speak in our sacred tongue now:

Saturn in the 12th House: You were exiled by your own subconscious. No one could help you—because you were never meant to be helped.

Pluto square the IC: The roots of your soul were burned. You had to start from ash.

North Node in the 12th or 8th: Your destiny required you to be emptied of ego before you could be filled with fire.

Chiron in the 1st or 12th: Your entire identity was built around a wound. And to heal it, the universe kept reopening it.

Jupiter Retrograde: You had to carry your own gospel in silence. No help was coming. You were the prophet and the sacrifice.

These placements are not "hard."

They are holy.

They are the markings of those who were chosen to suffer early so they could speak later.

The Freemasonic Trial: Crossing the Threshold

In esoteric Freemasonry, the initiate must knock three times.

Not on a door—but on the threshold of their own madness.

They are blindfolded, led into darkness, and told NOTHING.

The Master does not speak until the silence is complete.

Only then is the Eye opened.

Only then is the Light shown.

In your life, this appeared as:

Spiritual betrayal

Energetic silence

False prophets

Starvation of validation

The death of all your former identities

This was required.

The old “you” would’ve never survived initiation.

So the universe had to strip you of every disguise.

From Isolation to Apotheosis

This is the part nobody talks about.

The Divine Fracture leads to Divine Fusion.

Once you are cut—once you have bled and wept and walked the desert of your own silence—

the gods begin to speak.

They show up in the form of hidden knowledge.

They whisper through synchronicities that only you understand.

They teach you things that no book can.

You begin to download rituals, spells, invocations, and signs like code.

This is Apotheosis.

The ancient concept of rising to godhood through suffering.

It’s Prometheus reborn. It’s Lucifer carrying Light. It’s YOU—becoming myth.

And So...

If you are alone,

If your magic has dried up,

If your chart looks like a battleground and your mind feels like a warzone...

You are not broken. You are becoming.

This is your Sacred Severing.

And only those marked by fate are permitted to walk it.

Prepare yourself.

The Temple awaits.

© PhoenixRisingAstro. All Rights Reserved. 2025.

Do not plagiarize, reword, or water this down. This is a sacred transmission.

[toiich]

Ritual in Transfigured Time (1946), dir. Maya Deren

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Welcome back!!! :) We all missed you

Could you please write one in which MC is an animagus and the characters react to them transforming?

Thank you so much and take it easy 😁

HLC REACT TO MC BEING AN ANIMAGUS

A/N: since no animal was specified, we're going with the classic kitty cat :3

MC finally did it! After months of prep, and some good luck, they completed the animagus ritual....only to become a silver tabby. Not as epic as they would have hoped, but still cool. They needed to show their friends IMMEDIATELY.

~~~

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: "Well aren't you adorable." He chuckles as he kneels down to pet MC. "I'm not surprised you became an animagus. I'm just disappointed you didn't ask me to become one with you." He picks up MC and carries them off. "Now I have a perfectly valid excuse to call you Kitten."

OMINIS GAUNT: "You know, I don't find it funny when you tell me you want to SHOW me something. My wand has its limits." He huffs and waits for MC to do whatever they were so eager to do. His eyebrows rise in shock. One moment he detects a person, the next, a small animal. "What in Merlin's name? You're an animagus??" He hears MC meow and rub against his leg, just like the castle cats. He smiles a little and reaches down to pet MC. "Whatever will we do with you?"

ANNE SALLOW: "Oh, not fair! I was going to go through with the ritual myself but the blasted mandrake leaf wouldn't stay put. Even so..." She picks up MC and cradles then in her arms. "Since you're here. You can be my lap warmer while I study transfiguration."

IMELDA REYES: "You're as mad as I thought. You risked your life to become an animagus, only to become a cat? I'd get my money back if I were you." She watches MC flop over and make some air biscuits with the biggest eyes. "...I see your point."

NATSAI ONAI: She has stars in her eyes and immediately changes in her gazelle form. She and MC dance around each other happily and run down the corridors to cause some havoc. It was entirely worth the detention.

GARRETH WEASLEY: "Brilliant!" He watches in awe as MC transforms and starts purring against him. He picks them up and puts them on his shoulder. "Let's go raid Professor Sharp's storage room. He'll never suspect a cat." He now has a new mantra: Gain kitty, do crime.

LEANDER PREWETT: He looks around to see if anyone saw what MC just did. He leans down and harshly whispers to them. "You do realize that ritual is against the rules here right!? It's so dangerous! You could have died! Let alone the fact that you aren't registered. You could get in serious trouble if you're caught." MC flattens their ears and growls, he puts his hands up defensively. "I won't tell, but be more careful. I'm serious."

AMIT THAKKAR: "By the stars, that's incredible! Was the ritual as hard as it sounds? How many times did you attempt it? Was it difficult to actually keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for 30 days? These are questions I must know that answers to." MC just meows at him. "Oh...right."

EVERETT CLOPTON: "Whoa! That's amazing! Could you always do that?" He kneels down to scratch MC under the chin. "Hey, I need a favor." He grins devilishly and points at a distant group of students. "See the tall one? I need you to scratch the hell out of his legs. No questions. I'll pay."

POPPY SWEETING: She nearly screams from how cute MC's cat form is. She immediately scoops up MC and cuddles them close to her chest. "Please, for the love of Merlin and all magic, let me put little hats on you. My grandma knits all sorts of little hats and sweaters for her cats and I just KNOW they would look adorable on you." MC is locked in her arms. There is no escape.

ELAZAR FIG: "Extraordinary!" He was sitting at his desk when MC came in to show him their new trick. MC jumped onto his desk as a cat and slowly blinks at him. He reaches forward and gently pets their head. "I've always known you were capable of strong magic, and I'm glad you trust me enough to show me this, but do be cautious. Being an unregistered animagus is a big deal to some in the Ministry. Tread carefully. For now, you're welcome to nap on my desk."

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Between Stars and Moons

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader x Sirius Black, Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: Fluff with angst

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, needed wolfstar so bad-

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual chaos. James and Peter were halfway through a card game that was clearly designed to annoy Lily, who sat nearby trying to study. Sirius sprawled on the couch like a lazy cat, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment into the air and catching it with one hand. Across from him, you sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, surrounded by parchment, quills, and an inordinate number of books.

"McGonagall’s definitely trying to kill us," Sirius declared, his storm-gray eyes glinting with mischief.

You didn’t look up, too focused on your essay. “Or maybe she just wants us to pass our N.E.W.T.s. Some of us care about not failing, Sirius.”

Sirius grinned, his smirk practically audible. "I’ll pass with charm alone, love."

From the far end of the couch, Remus glanced up from his book. His golden-brown eyes flicked between you and Sirius, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Charm might work on a professor or two, but I’m not sure it’ll help you transfigure a teapot into a tortoise."

Sirius barked a laugh and tossed the parchment toward Remus, who caught it without looking up. "Jealous of my natural talent, Moony?"

Remus snorted, his voice warm. "Not in the slightest."

The banter drew a chuckle from you, and Sirius' attention shifted to you again, his smirk softening. “Glad to see someone appreciates me,” he quipped, his eyes lingering a little too long.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus watching, too, though his gaze was quieter, more thoughtful. Over the past few months, you’d caught yourself in these moments—pulled between Sirius’ magnetic energy and Remus’ steady warmth. And there was something between the two of them as well, a bond that ran deeper than friendship, though neither of them would ever say it outright.

It started with Sirius dragging you into his plans, as usual. "You have to come with me tonight," he had said. "Remus needs us."

You hadn’t known what to expect the first time you joined them on a full moon night. But now it had become a ritual: Sirius transformed into Padfoot to keep Moony company, and you stayed close, offering quiet support as Remus fought through the transformation.

That night, the three of you stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Sirius leaned casually against a tree, but his sharp gaze was fixed on Remus, who paced back and forth, his nerves palpable.

“You don’t have to stay,” Remus said for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice tight.

Sirius straightened, his tone uncharacteristically firm. “We’re not going anywhere, Moony.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on Remus’ arm. “We want to be here—for you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might protest again. But then the first wave of pain hit, and his body began to change. Sirius was at his side in an instant, gripping his shoulder.

“It’s okay, mate,” Sirius murmured. “We’ve got you.”

Once the transformation was complete, Padfoot nudged Moony with his nose, and the wolf let out a low growl before turning toward you. You stood still, meeting his wild golden eyes, and after a moment, he sniffed the air and let out a soft huff.

The night passed in a blur of movement and laughter as you ran through the forest with them, Sirius and Remus in their Animagus forms and you trailing behind. For a few hours, it felt like nothing else mattered.

The morning after the full moon was always quiet. You found Remus in the hospital wing, his face pale but his eyes bright when he saw you enter.

“You’re up early,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to check on you,” you said, sitting beside him.

Remus smiled weakly. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Stop saying that,” you replied, reaching for his hand. “Of course I do. I want to.”

His eyes flicked down to your joined hands, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice almost breaking.

The moment hung between you like a fragile thread, but before either of you could say more, Sirius burst into the room.

“Morning, sunshine!” he declared, his grin wide and infectious.

Remus groaned. “Sirius, some of us are recovering.”

Sirius dropped into the chair on Remus’ other side, leaning back with exaggerated nonchalance. “And some of us are here to make you smile. Mission accomplished, I’d say.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Sirius shot you a wink, his grin softening into something almost shy.

The next week, you found yourself on the Astronomy Tower late at night. You’d planned to stargaze alone, but Sirius was already there, lounging against the stone wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Well, hello, love,” he drawled, his smirk widening when he saw you.

“Sirius,” you said, crossing your arms. “What are you doing up here?”

“Thinking,” he replied, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Care to join me?”

You hesitated before sitting beside him. The stars above were brilliant, and for a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“Sometimes I think about how small we are,” Sirius said suddenly, his voice quieter than usual. “All this chaos down here, and the stars just… keep going.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his uncharacteristic seriousness. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned to you, his gray eyes soft and searching. “You.”

Your breath caught. “Me?”

“You’re different,” he said, leaning closer. “You see me—the real me. Not just the jokes and the pranks.”

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, but before you could respond, footsteps echoed behind you.

“Am I interrupting?” Remus’ voice was calm, but there was a tightness to it.

Sirius pulled back, his expression unreadable. “Not at all, Moony. I was just leaving.”

Before either of you could stop him, Sirius disappeared down the stairs, leaving you and Remus alone.

The next evening, you found Sirius and Remus in the Gryffindor common room. Sirius was perched on the arm of a chair, his usual smirk firmly in place, while Remus sat on the couch, his book open but unread.

“I need to say something,” you said, standing in front of them. “To both of you.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly, and Remus sat up straighter.

“I care about you,” you continued, your voice steady. “Both of you. And I think… I think you care about each other, too.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, though it sounded forced. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “You’re both too stubborn to admit it, but it’s obvious. The way you look at each other, the way you’re always there for each other—it’s not just friendship.”

Remus glanced at Sirius, his expression conflicted. “She’s not wrong,” he admitted quietly.

Sirius stared at him, his gray eyes wide. “Moony…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said, stepping closer. “But I’m tired of pretending that none of this matters. You’re both important to me, and I don’t want to lose either of you.”

For a long moment, the three of you stood in silence, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down like a heavy blanket. Finally, Sirius broke the tension with a grin.

“Well, if you’re proposing we all be together, love, I think I could get used to that.”

Remus let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Sirius shot back, his smirk widening.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “So… we’re doing this?”

Remus glanced at Sirius, then at you. “Yeah,” he said softly. “We’re doing this.”

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[schlock-luster-video]

On May 12, 2019, Ritual in Transfigured Time was screened at the Docs Against Gravity Film Festival.

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

The thing about NV is that it is a horror podcast. Not like TMA, but it is horrorific. It can be very comforting. It can be charming. It can be emotional and lovely. But when you peel back the casual way that Cecil speaks about the things around you, especially at first, you start to see how terrible NV is as a place.

Voting is basically fake. Education is mostly propaganda. Books and the internet are heavily censored. Media is changed to fit the various organisations ruling it's narrative. The Sheriff's Secret Police are both incompetent and militant. The government running it regularly gaslights and lies to it's citizens. Citizens are regularly imprisoned for anything or nothing, executed, reeducated. The town is incredibly xenophobic, either chasing newcomers out or harassing them for years if they choose to stay. Thought crimes are real. You have to bleed on certain doors to open them. There's thousands of intricate rules and rituals that if broken will result in some kind of horrific torture, transfiguration, death, things worse than death and at BEST just being imprisoned forever. There isn't even a good job market because child-kidnapping Hooded Figures take up almost every job. Human rights? What are those lol

And that's before you even touch upon the huge number of supernatural events and entities which regular murder citizens, destroy buildings, destroy parts of reality itself, seemingly at random most of the time. It's an awful, dangerous place to live.

I love it so much and I love how the story is approached in such a casual way. Cecil's smooth telling had us all just accepting whatever he accepted, hating what he hated, not questioning anything. I think that's just so *chefs kiss*.

[marigold-hills]

5. Secret ritual

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

@hpanimagiweek

(This chapter is for @hoje--aqui because the comment she’d left on the last part is what inspired it so if you’re hurt by the content of it, blame her ❤️)

The dog has no use.

(Sirius feels redundant, pointless, helpless.)

The dog’s person lays in bed with a new deep bite in the muscle of his leg. It smells like the wolf and like blood and something like prey. The wolf is never prey except to itself - the wolf is something everything in the forest feared. The wolf is strong and brave and never hunted. The wolf, locked away, turns its anger on itself.

The dog exists to guide the wolf - to be with the wolf - to stop the hurt. The dog exists for nothing now.

The dog had been shunned out of the room. The woman with a brood of children knows healing spells. You’re getting in the way, she said. Behave. I’ll call you when it’s done.

The dog found another smell of someone he should have protected and didn’t. This room stays closed and unused but for the elf.

“Young Master was braver than them all,” the elf mutters under its breath, vitriol and mourning together. It doesn’t see the dog where it’s huddled under the bed. “Not like this one, laying about my Lady’s home, selling her belongings, inviting in scum.”

The dog listens in a way the man never could. The cloud of hurt doesn’t cover the meaning.

“Young Master Regulus… so young,” the elf sniffs as he polishes each little silver knickknack left behind by their owner (brother brother brother). Endless care in the elf’s knobbly old fingers. “So brave and so caring. Did more for this Order than any of those halfbreeds the new Master houses. Oh, if my Lady could only see what has become of her Home…”

Sirius turns into himself without quite meaning to, bumps his head on the bed frame trying to get out from underneath it. Kreacher startles.

“What did you just say?” Sirius snaps.

The elf turns away from him, ignores the question.

“I order you to tell me,” Sirius pushes when Kreacher tries to pretend he didn’t hear the first time. No matter the hate he holds for his new Master, he can’t disobey a direct order.

“Young Master Regulus was very brave.”

“About what he did for the Order, Kreacher. What did you mean by that?”

And Kreacher, compelled by the blood of the House he’s bound to, tells him.

***

Sirius sets fire to the lake of Inferi before he can see his brother’s eyes in one of the corpses.

It blazes quickly. The water of the lake is no longer water, with how much magic it holds, and Sirius helps the process along with transfiguring it into something else entirely - something flammable, burnable. He feels the heat of the fire on his skin but it doesn’t touch him.

“Master Regulus wished to cover his tracks,” Kreacher says.

“I don’t care.” Sirius watches the flame burn itself out. “Why did he drink the poison?”

They walk across the scorched bottom of the lake. The bodies of the Inferi are indistinguishable from each other.

“Master Regulus was kind. He took the pain so Kreacher wouldn’t have to.” Kreacher bows his head to the ground of the little island, in front of the basin. Supplication and prayer - like he’s reached the centre of a pilgrimage. “Master Regulus made Kreacher force him.”

Sirius sees it as if he was there. Regulus, eighteen years old, tired the way he was towards the end, with that sunken expression and those eyes of his, haunted and blank. Sirius thought he was soft. Nothing about this is soft, not in the way Sirius knew Regulus to be.

Sirius doesn’t drink the poison. He doesn’t make Kreacher drink it. He breaks the leg of the basin clean from the ground, levitates it over to the mouth of the cave. The poison doesn’t react to any magic.

“Kreacher told new Master the necklace isn’t here,” Kreacher says with something that could count as a scoff, if he wasn’t carefully adhering to his role.

“I know,” Sirius tells him, shrinking the mutilated basin. He doesn’t say I want his last words. I want the letter. I want to see he was on our side with my own eyes.

***

In the library of Grimmauld Place there are books not to be found anywhere else. At the back of it there’s a door that can’t be seen by anyone but the head of House of Black. Sirius has never been through it, only been told of its existence in passing. There is knowledge of all things, if you ask for it, Orion used to say.

Had Regulus been allowed into it, he wouldn’t be dead.

Sirius had never entered it before, but the door welcomes him the way a vein welcomes blood.

(There is knowledge.)

Sirius becomes the dog becomes himself then something else. Sirius knows he is head of the family. Sirius knows his father died and then his mother died and all that was left of the name is him. Never did that mean anything.

The rooms behind the library, when Sirius enters them, change this.

The hall is vast and the air ripe with enlargement charms, and concealment charms, and charms Sirius doesn’t recognise the feeling of. The hall speaks to him - the dog understands it better, the veneer of humanity stripped off in this form. The dog listens.

(All the things.)

The dog lays on the ground - colder than the wood should be - the room speaks.

(Only ask.)

“Tell me about horcruxes,” Sirius asks the room in a voice like the dog’s bark. 

NEXT PART

[paracosm-draw]

Gasp! I am most intrigued by the pillow book!!

Let me give you a lil snippet then 👀 "Is all of this really necessary ? I don't think I-"

"Stay still, Master." Anakin interrupts, making a poor job of hiding his smirk. "You're going to smudge the whole thing."

Obi-Wan squirms from where he's laying on the table, naked from the waist down as a man with a pale blue skin and long horns tinkling with multiple jewellery paints another symbol on his right shoulder.

He still doesn't really understand how he ended up in this situation in the first place or what is expected of him for the rest of the celebrations, and the fact that Anakin's gaze hasn't left him since he stripped from his robes makes him feel increasingly... Restless.

The energy coursing through his veins and under his skin seems to worsen every time the soft brush traces a sigil he doesn't understand around the curve of his biceps or along the column of his throat, adorning the paleness of his carnation with what looked like liquid gold.

Glancing at Anakin in the vain hope to find some sort of comfort, or at least a way to crack a joke to lighten the mood, he quickly realizes that his Padawan is not going to be of any help.

Anakin looks transfigured by the scene on display before his eyes. His pupils are blown wide in the semi-obscurity of the tent, his gaze so completely and intesely focused on him that Obi-Wan feels a blush creep along his cheeks in spite of himself. He shifts uncomfortably as the brush slides down between his chest and along the planes of his stomach to trace a circle around his navel, Anakin's eyes following its movement religiously, his gaze never faltering, not even for a second. Obi-Wan wonders if he has blinked since the beginning of the ritual.

[runabout-river]

The Mechanisms of Nobara's Return

The Setup

Her injury is the smallest transfiguration Mahito made without interference

This injury didn't kill Nobara instantly

Nitta used his CT to stop her from dying

Affirmation that Nobara has a chance of survival even if that chance is less than 1%

This setup itself is the biggest indication/confirmation on a meta level that Nobara's return will happen. Because otherwise, Gege wouldn't have written it like this in the first place or he would've written later scenes about her death more explicitly.

Nobara is the female lead of JJK and is often compared to Sakura from Naruto in that regard. I find it hard to believe that Shonen Jump would let Gege discard that lead so early in the story. It would also be an unpopular decision to replace the female lead with another female character (Maki) even for Shonen standards.

Temporarily replacing one on the other hand, is a decision I can see happening. I'm no expert in this but it's known that editors keep the number of female characters low in their titles in SJ. Gege most likely wanted to do something shocking as well, so this a course of action many would be fine with.

If Nobara's death had been meant to be final then not only in the story but also outside of it we would've gotten definite confirmation on it. Instead, I don't recall something like that being said. In story and outside, we have this wishy-washy Schrödinger's Cat situation going on.

Her injury

Idle Transfiguration cannot be healed with positive energy or any other means

That's because positive energy doesn't recognize damage to the body if it's in the same shape as the soul

At this point, her death was suspended in a similar fashion to how Megumi's death was suspended inside his exorcism ritual

This suspension can theoretically be kept up indefinitely as long as Nitta can use his CT

A popular theory in this regard, is Nobara learning Reverse Cursed Technique while at death's door.

Nobara is a Black Flash user, her use of cursed energy is more refined than that of the average sorcerer

Her learning RCT would parallel Gojo learning it after being sliced open. For her, it just takes longer

Having to use RCT constantly would also mirror Gojo, bringing her narratively closer to her teacher after being the one most distant from him

Her Return

Why did Megumi say she was dead?

Theory: because Shoko told him that she was dead:

Because Shoko thought it cruel to keep the hopes of Megumi and Yuji up. She still wasn't finished to try and save her though

Shoko was afraid of the higher-ups interfering in her treatment after Yaga was executed

Having Megumi believe that she died also makes Sukuna believe that she's dead, which makes her comeback unforeseeable to him.

Why don't we see her in the flashbacks?

To keep up suspense. But do you know who else we don't see in the flashbacks? Todo. And that guy isn't even dead.

What is she doing now?

We have some possibilities for the flashbacks:

Learning to function under her RCT

Learning to function on Nitta's CT

Training/secret missions with Todo

Recovering with her grandma/learning to use new forms of her own CT

For the current fights:

She's waiting her turn

Popular theory is that Nobara will use Resonance on Sukuna's last finger. If she does this too early, she will explode. My favorite way for her to do this is like this:

Utahime and Gramps will enhance her CT and she will attack Sukuna's finger right at the moment when Sukuna attacks Yuji to kill him, mirroring the Mahito scene.

Which are the instances where her death wasn't made explicit?

We never saw her corpse

She wasn't at the airport

No one talked to Gojo about her death, they only talked about Nanami

Only Megumi and Yuji talk about her death. The second and last time about Hana potentially replacing her

I think this is about it about Nobara's Return. If you have questions, I will answer.

...

I lied.

There is a way to heal Nobara.

And the person who's going to do that is Megumi.

Megumi will have to infuse one of his shikigami with Mahoraga's Adaptation ability

The Adaptation doesn't happen with CTs, it happens with phenomena

A transfigured body and soul is a phenomenon

After the adaptation, Megumi can order his shikigami to reshape or reverse the transfiguration

This Adaptation to Idle Transfiguration also has a second use: stopping the merger (or reversing it).

Kenjaku used Mahito's IT to change Tengen's barriers. If I remember correctly, he will use IT again in the future or the effects of IT will be relevant later on. And that's when Megumi will have his biggest role.

[isalisewrites]

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

—

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

—

FORTY-TWO EXCERPT:

Harry giggled. “Hello there, Hubert,” he said, stroking Hubert’s muzzle. The beast purred, low and deep. “Been enjoying yourself in the Forbidden Forest?”

Hubert shook himself again and let out a low humming warble. He swayed back and forth, his bones clacking together. Those glowing red eyes settled onto Tom and he sent a snuff of hot air. The beast nuzzled him gently. Tom relented and gave him a few pats on the snout.

“So long as you don’t try to sit on me again, we’ll get along just fine, you great beast.”

Hubert chuffed.

“I wonder why the magic hasn’t left him,” said Harry, still petting the dragon’s muzzle. “Shouldn’t something like this go away eventually? It’s been two months now.”

Tom frowned. His usual dislike for the beast twisted into intrigue and he took a good look at the creature. He’d been too busy being annoyed to really focus on just how remarkable it was that he was even alive. Technically. He really oughtn’t be alive considering he had no organs, no blood, no nerves, and no flesh.

“Usually, transfiguration spells and enchantments do wear off,” said Tom, studying Hubert for a long minute. “Only powerful wizards and witches can create something that is sustained throughout their lives. However, it always disappears upon their death.”

Harry slowly nodded, eyes clouding over.

“Since we’re both alive and he was animated by our combined magic, it’s likely he’ll always be sustained by magic until we both…”

Tom trailed off, his lips pursing together. Something inside of him rebelled at the thought of either of them dying. It felt taboo to speak its inevitability out loud, as if he were invoking something better left untouched. Birth and death came to all living persons equally, no matter one’s station in life.

But the idea of Harry dying gripped him by the lungs, stole his breath, with its terrifying possibility.

“My mom once transformed a petal from a lily into a fish,” said Harry softly. “But when she died… the fish disappeared.”

The unreasonable fear pricked at Tom’s heart.

Hubert let out a low, mourning tone. He butted his snout against Harry’s side. His smile softened; Harry patted the dragon a few more times.

What beautiful magic would disappear from this world if Harry suddenly wasn’t at Tom’s side? 

How deeply would he feel the void?

Ridiculous. He had plans to avoid such a future. Tom’s hand flew to his collarbone; he pressed down, feeling the weight of the locket against his skin. Perhaps… Harry would agree to join him in that future, despite the dark magic the ritual would entail. It was a price worth paying if it meant they could always be at each other’s sides, right? Tom let out a low sigh and the fears faded from his racing heart. Maybe one day he’d broach the topic of horcruxes with Harry.

Hubert grew restless and distracted, his attention turning back to the forest. His large head tilted to the side, as if listening for something. He let out a deeper chuff and shifted his stance.

“You want to go back already?”

Hubert dipped his head, shifting back and forth on his hind legs again. Harry threw his arms around his muzzle, giving him another pat, before backing away a couple of paces.

“Bye, Hubert!” said Harry, waving at him. “See ya later!”

Tom forgot, much too late, that standing so close to a dragon lifting off would be an issue. The beast spread his wings and crouched. It bolted into the air with an enormous gust of wind, once more knocking the pair of them off their feet.

With a cry of surprise from Harry and an annoyed grunt from Tom, they fell to the ground tangled together. Tom landed hard onto his back with Harry landing on top of his chest, his hands slamming down at the sides of Tom’s shoulders. The weight of Harry bore down; a leg nestled between Tom’s thighs. Cold, wet snow frosted his back, yet the heat of him on top of Tom burned it all away. Harry’s chest heaved with each shaky breath and pressed against Tom with each exhale.

Those green eyes pinned Tom down. For a half a beat, they stared at each other, frozen in place.

Until Tom’s body reacted.

To his horror.

Oh, the betrayal. He knew what it meant. Understood. Oh, god. It wasn’t like he hadn't woken up to this before; it happened on the rare occasion, just like any other boy his age. But it never reacted to another person. Shit. The blood drained so fast from his face, Tom almost grew faint where he lay in the snow, almost swooned there on the ground as he lost all breath. No. Goddammit! How dare his trousers tent with this betrayal. 

And the worst part of all?

Harry’s eyes widened.

He knows…

HE KNOWS!

[onetwofeb]

Maya Dern, Ritual in Transfigured Time (1946)