#no no for real judas is Destroying me

[whimsicalcotton]

.

[seraphimaa]

Astarion X Tav/Reader

Judas

Drabble under cut.

When Astarion gets his first taste of real blood and power, he finds himself falling victim to the throes of his own pleasure. Some part of him is aware of her asking him to stop but power, it turns out, can flood all else.

Warnings: temporary character death, hurt no comfort, trauma, (accidental) murder, unhealthy relationships, abuse, Astarion is not coping™️

My body’s covered in teeth marks

You ruin everything you touch

Destroy anyone you love

“-Tarion?” Her bleary eyes barely blinked open as he crouched over her, like a pale ghost in the night. When her eyes glinted with recognition, her body relaxed again down into her bedroll and her eyes slid shut in exhaustion.

“What’re you doing?” She mumbled into the thick blanket below her. Her voice was tired but held nothing but fondness for the elf. No fear. No suspicion. No disgust. It made him feel sick.

It had to be her. Neither the Sharren nor the Githyanki could be trusted and from the moment he’d pulled her to the ground and watched her instinctually look to the other two for help, he’d set his plan in motion. She’d followed along so easily that he had been sure for the first few days that it had to be some kind of trick. She laughed at his jokes, the mean ones too, and he saw the flash of guilt cross her face when she did. She asked his opinion on what to do, and clung to his advice. She offered him swords, and potions, and food. She blushed when he stood too close and she spent most of their conversations looking anywhere but him. The rapt admiration was sweet and exactly what he needed. Someone kind and naive who would have his back until he could rid himself of Cazador.

It also had to be now. They’d been making their way through these grubby woods for over a week. He’d been set free into the world and here he was still slinking around in the dirt and eating vermin - afraid and starved. The trust was there but he needed a night when there wouldn’t be opportunity for pesky conversation and resistance. Today they’d slaughtered a full grown Owlbear in its nest and everyone had all but collapsed into their makeshift beds.

She blinked up at him again. She’d noticed his quiet ruminating. “Astarion?” She shuffled to face him.

“Are you ok?”

He shushed her and pushed her to lie back down under him. Her face remained painted with surprise but the pink hue that grew over her features set his mind at ease. Yes, he’d planned for all of this. All he had to do was take it. Leaning down so that his lips tickled at her ear, he inhaled deeply. Her heart was thrumming so hard that he could see the pulse of her neck swell in rhythm. He swore he could already taste her.

“Do you trust me?” A truthful nod as she bit her lip.

“Im starving and you’re the only one who can help me.” He tells himself that the desperation in his voice is all a part of the act. He lowers his lips to that jumping flesh at her nape and nips, fighting the urge to break the dam of flesh. He glances up when she doesn’t react. Watches the expression on her face cycle from confusion, to surprise, to understanding. He watched it all fall into flame in her little head and then heart her voice break the silence.

“Will it hurt?” He tells her only hurt for a moment but that it will be worth it. He’ll be able able to protect them better. He’d be so thankful. He knew she wasn’t the kind of person to saw ‘no’.

“And do you promise you’ll stop?” Yes. He’d never hurt her, he said. He recognised her loneliness and desperation. He saw that same wounded animal in her that he lived with and luckily, he knew all the pretty words to tame it.

She agreed then. A quick nod of her head and he had latched home. Her face contorted as his fangs sank in and he felt her body jerk and her breath shudder. She hissed and tried to regain her breathing, feeling his hand brush over her cheek in an attempt at comfort. A burning ache bloomed and pulsed over her.

Astarion swore he was in rapture. Her blood seeped into him and suddenly nothing else mattered. Heady and sweet and intoxicating, he suckled at her delicate neck and all at once felt drunk. His first. His first freedom. His first friend. His first pleasurable meal. He tried to pin the feeling the had overcome him. It felt a bit like lust, but undeniably darker. This is what had been denied to him for his whole life, yet here he was, crouched double like a predator feasting after a hunt. Nobody was ever going to deny his anything ever fucking again.

She whined and tried to ease her head away from the source of pain. The gentle petting at her cheek grew more purposeful and his hand grasped her jaw, pushing and tilting her head back for better access. Her heart stuttered and quickened at his forcefulness and he groaned as her sanguine spirit filled his mouth and coated his chin, rushing too fast for him to keep up. She moved her hands to pat against his shoulders.

“Astarion that’s enough. It’s so sore.” Her voice quivered and in it he could hear the tears that had filled her eyes.

“Almost. Please. Just a little more.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he returned to drinking her down, lapping up what he missed in the seconds he wasted with his fangs outside of her. She sobbed softly as her wounds were filled once again, her body shook softly as she tried to stop her tears. He tried to find that beautiful place of pleasure and disassociation again but he felt torn back to the present every time she sniffed and hiccuped. No. This was so unfair. He deserved this and she couldn’t just ruin this moment by trying to make him feel bad. He could put up with her being selfish in every situation but not now. For once, this wasn’t all about her. She began to beg him to stop again but he silenced her by his rotating his hand to clamp over her mouth and jaw. He felt panting on his palm and she began thrash slightly. He drove down onto her, the weight of bone and limb pinning her to the scratchy blanket. He drank and focused on the sweet taste, unsure if his mind was running too fast or not at all. She wanted to be his friend. She had wanted to help. She had said yes.

The muffled pleading against his hand slurred, then slowed and her hands fell from their grip on his shoulders to the ground at her own. Astarion didn’t know how long she was like that. So quiet and still. When it dawned on him it felt like a bolt of ice down his spine. He pulled his teeth from her and kept his head in the nape of her neck. He stayed like that for a while, too scared to move. A corned rat. His gaze remained forward. Her skin was so pale. The gouges in her neck were clumsy and animalistic. The skin was torn and stretched from his starved gnawing and they still oozed with the last of her ichor. It painted over her neck and chest, saturated the pale yellow blanket she lay on, wet the curls splayed around her. He didn’t know how long it took to find the courage to look at her. When he did he felt like he could vomit his meal over her pretty dress. Her lips were hued a pale blue, fallen open and twisted in a silent scream. Her cheeks looked gaunt and gone was any trace of the rosy blush she so often looked at him with. It was her eyes that turned his stomach, causing it to flutter uncomfortably every time he met them. They were sunken and darkly ringed, vessels streaking the milky whites. They were aimed up at the sky, pointing to slightly different angles the way only a corpse could. They were glassy and he followed the tracks that her tears had taken from them. It felt wrong looking at her like this - dirty. He knew she’d hate this. She always tried to look her best in front of him. He, however, couldn’t bring himself to look away. He had to face what he was. A monster in the night. A Judas at the table. He’d come to her, a friend in the night and he’d broken every ounce of trust and affection he had ever possessed. He could still feel the burn of her hands against him, pushing softly but desperately. She was so scared but even then she didn’t want to hurt him.

He scrambled back, never looking away from her, as if he half expected her corpse to come rambling at him, clawing and shrieking for revenge. When he felt at a safe enough distance from the uncanny gaze of the husk that had housed her, he cried. He cried himself and he cried for the unfairness of it all. He cried because he, even while drowning in his shame, he couldn’t deny the dark tickling thought that this was still the best night of his entire life. He tried to cry for her too. For the scar he’d carved into her tonight. The one that hides deep in the viscera of your being, warping you into a hound that snaps at any hand offered. The kind he knew most intimately.

Bloodied face buried into his hand, his eyes eventually opened again to meet the night. He yanked the leash and his empathy entered back into its cage, whimpering. He couldn’t feel because he had to survive this. This would be one of those moments he bottled up with the intention of keeping it there until he died - any of these days now. He rose to his feet and started to rifle through her worn backpack, fishing for her scroll of revival, and doing everything he could to not look at her disgusting, empty face. His head was swimming with how he could salvage this. He had to keep his cool. As much as he wished he could dash her cadaver far away and never have to think of her again, the others would kill him if he left her dead. If he dragged her heavy body into the thick of the woods and brought her back now, he might be able to avoid their travelling companions finding out anything had happened. The tear stains were still visible too so it would be easier to convince her that this was all a giant accident and he was very, truly sorry. He was sure if he told her a just enough about his past, for sympathy and to justify (because it was justifiable as far as he cared) his lack of control, and really leaned into just how good she tasted and how she was such a decadent feast that he couldn’t stop that she’d be charmed again in no time. Sure, he’d give her a few days to get over it. He guessed she should be allowed that. As long as she didn’t hold it over him and starve him just like Cazador did. He had had a taste now and she would not deny him her cherry wine again.

He took a comforting breath and readied the scroll. She would forgive him because she had nobody else. She needed him and he needed her. He didn’t care if it was through fear or love she pledged her loyalty but when he forced her soul back into her body, he was going to ensure it was promised to him all the same before he let her leave here. Both of their survival depended on it.

A/N: I finished writing this at 5am and I need to be awake at 8 so apparently both me and my Tav make some very questionable choices. I love Astarion and I love soft, emotionally healing Astarion but here’s some whump nobody asked for set very early game. He’s struggling to make good choices, and questioning what the point is of doing that anyway when he’s no doubt going to be under everybody’s feet eating rats in a sewer again. If he can’t control the inevitable return to his torture then god forbid he doesn’t get to at least once feel what it’s like to be the one on top. The one in control. This was my take on a very emotionally stunted and repressed Astarion and how cruel one can be while stumbling into personhood and testing the limits of newfound power over others.

[mukuharakazui]

i feel like ive just gotten baited into sending one of those "WAIT, KIRBY HAS DEEP LORE!?" asks but please tell me about the magolor christian themes

HELLO. ok it is 2am so i will do the best i can. if this answer is utterly incoherent, blame that.

magolor's whole christian thing has been around since his concept art, which ensured that his design had notable yellow highlights as a nod to the color used to represent judas in classical christian art. (his ears were also originally going to be horns, so there could be some devil stuff there if you squint.)

this doesn't mean much if you only look at return to dreamland 2011. it's simply a clever, blink-and-you'll-miss-it piece of his character design that ties with the fact that he betrays kirby. some fans also found this funny regarding his symbolic link to apples, which he uses as bombs or. uh. microtransaction materials. lol.

however, once return to dreamland deluxe came out in 2023, the game dropped a MASSIVE bomb of their own by providing us with a new, post-game epilogue for magolor. spoilers ahead, obviously. via the epilogue, magolor's link to apples is explored in-depth by putting him through trials where he must collect 5 fruit (apple) fragments, which a game screen implies parallel the fact that magolor tricked kirby into collecting the 5 parts of the lor starcutter. that's essentially his "penance" process.

when magolor finished rebuilding the apple, which is known as the "ethereal alter" in english and the very unsubtle "room of eden" in japanese. the master crown that magolor had betrayed kirby for and stolen from its place on halcandra became a massive gem apple tree final boss. however, the tree itself is not listed as the boss--instead he is fighting the master crown itself.

he ultimately destroys the master crown, which had taken the form of the "forbidden fruit" that had tempted magolor into hurting people, including those he had come to genuinely deem friends, for the sake of obtaining personal power. the gem apple being constructed in the "room of eden" is enough on its own to build a base for a christian theme, but magolor's arc of redeption through either 1. trial and repentance (main gamemode with magolor epilogue; self-imposed; successful) 2. outside aid (extra mode + true arena; extended by kirby; failed) is what allows the christian imagery to shine.

however, his christian imagery chronologically extends past the return to dreamland deluxe epilogue, as that same epilogue confirmed that "microtransagolor" (the green magolor from kirby clash deluxe) is the same magolor from return to dreamland. he nurtures the gem apple seed which he obtained after defeating the master crown in that game. clash deluxe also introduces us to a weekly "magolor day," which, you guessed it, is on sunday, with the first of them occuring on an easter.

the major reason why i connect magolor to christianity in particular rather than all abrahamic religions is the judas connection, the easter sunday thing, and the process through which he repents or "must atone for his misdeeds." while genesis isn't exclusive to christianity, the specific actions which magolor takes along his path of betrayal and redeption mirror make more sense to me as a christian moral tale rather than judaic or islamic for some reason. not sure why, i'd have to unpack that elsewhere.

this isn't to say that kirby is indoctrinating children into christianity or whatever ofc. considering the whole hyness and mage sisters deal in star allies, the connection between kirby and religion as a whole isn't always a positive one. nintendo also tends to avoid real life religions and references to them as a whole in their games likely to avoid controversy and to make their games accessible and understandable to a worldwide audience with a wide variety of cultural backgrounds. that last point is WHY i find it super crazy that magolor has an obviously and intentionally christian narrative.

(also, for the books, i'm not catholic. but 4 years of catholic school and one very catholic grandmother gives me just enough background on the topic to relate it to kirby)

[ohmyenjolrass]

things i adored of the catalan version of jesus christ superstar

so i just saw the catalan version of after discovering there is one (it's here, check it out!) and i think it was ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. shoutout to @this-is-a-name-dont-worry for making me discover it <3

catalan is my favourite language and i am lucky enough to speak it every day, and this production didn't disappoint at all!

so as a tradition in this blog, let's review my favorite parts!

first of all, i adored the setting and the cast. the costumes were also fabulous. so the whole aesthetic of the show was impeccable, giving me the same vibes as the 2018 nbc version. 10/10 for scene.

now, specific things. many of these things have to do with lyrics because i think the translation was EVERYTHING.

heaven on their minds is always a banger, no matter the production. one thing i loved about this particular version was the lyric obri els ulls i escolta el que t'he de dir / que no veus que no vull veure't morir?, which literally translates to open your eyes and listen to what i have to say / can't you see that i don't want to see you die? (more or less).

that translation changed my life forever.

the percussion break right before what's the buzz? gave me +20 years of life.

then, judas's expression during mary's bit was so funny.

and also, some note changes during strange thing mystifying that i LOVED.

i also think it was clever how judas was arguing with the apostles in the background during the first chorus of everything's alright.

moreover, the way mary soothes judas in the second chorus

AND HOW THEY CHANGE THE LYRICS SO THEY CAN MAKE IT PLURAL (like mary talks to both jesus and judas).

ANNAS IS A GIRL !!!!! and an amazing performer, gotta say.

also, the little dancing of the priests during this jesus must die.

i adored how in hosanna, jesus and judas enter together and then mary joins them (and judas gives her a little kiss!!).

also judas telling the crowd to be chill while caiaphas sings.

and how he gets mad when jesus talks about heaven.

SIMON IS A GIRL !!!! and also SPECTACULAR.

the way pilate and jesus look at each other just before pilate's dream.

the priests being in the temple during the scene.

mary confessing to jesus during i don't know how to love him and jesus ALMOST KISSING HER???? WOAH.

a priest offered judas some food while he was having a mental breakdown in damned for all time and i thought it was the funniest thing ever.

okay so during the last supper happened a lot of things

first, JUDAS SMOKING. i'm always a fan of that (please, don't smoke).

also, during their first confrontation, judas says deixa'm que t'expliqui (let me explain) to jesus, and I WANTED TO CRY

the way the apostles tidy up the table after jesus and judas's first fight.

at the end, judas looks for comfort in the apostles AND THEY REJECT HIM???? the audacity.

gethsemane was in general absolutely stunning, but some things i liked about it is the way it was translated. the song in catalan seems like jesus is asking god to show himself so that he can see that everything is real. HEART B R E A K I N G.

ANOTHER HEARTBREAK. the lyrics just before the song starts say ningú es vol quedar despert amb mi? / no em deixeu sol avui, which translates to none of you wants to stay awake with me? / don't leave me alone today. I MEAN.

some other lyrics that destroyed me were the pre-chorus. in catalan, jesus sings: vas donar-me llum / però ara sols veig fum / esperant que tú vinguessis / vaig donar-te el que tenia / una vida / no pots esperar més d'un home sol, which translates to you gave me light / but now i only see smoke / waiting for you to come / i gave you what i had / a life / you cannot expect more from only a man. I MEAN X2.

peter's voice was one of my favorites.

and also, herod serving cunt in that animal print trousers. chef's kiss.

judas's death affected me more than any other production

in superstar, judas singing de debò el teu sacrifici et converteix en salvador? which translates to does your sacrifice really makes you a savior? in the cuntiest way possible. yes, king.

and to finish, the timer above the cross going down before jesus's death.

if you reached this point, hi! i hope you enjoyed it, 'cause i know i did. check out this production, it is truly amazing. see you in the next post! x

[asha-mage]

The way that tumblr celebrates the Ides of March every year is so strange to me, because like.

The assassination of Julius Cesar is maybe one of the MOST controversial moments in western history. A thousand years later, Dante Alegari (who was Italian) when writing the Divine Comedy, reserves the deepest foulest pit of hell for Brutus and Casius and Judas, condemning them to be Satan’s eternal chew toys. Shakespear devotes an entire play to how Julius Cesar is a complicated figure neither saint nor monster, and to how the assassin’s motives ranged from virtuous to, petty and spiteful. To this DAY scholars and historians still argue about the actions of the assassins, spilling oceans of ink.

And yet all of tumblr seems to accept three things as undisputed fact:

That Julius Cesar was a dictator (true) and tyrant (debatable).

That the assassins, and Brutus in particular where righteous in the stabbing of him (A statement that would spark riots in any classical history department in any western country)

That the stabbing turned out great for everyone involved who was NOT Cesar (super super not true- it sparked off riots that nearly destroyed the city of Rome, and a Civil War that killed tens of thousands and nearly destroyed the country of Rome).

Every March 15th, this site throws a party and stubbornly insists that an event, a real historical event that unleashed untold chaos and death on the world, was actually just really cool and funny you guys: Cesar was a bad guy and his assassins where super cool, and that’s that.

And I get the memes are choice. But I think, we may collectively, be missing the point of this particular lesson of history.

[vesperpharsalius]

i got your reference! that’s why i said in gs cassius taking back the ring was just the engagement. i love that two lines because when i read the ending of gs i was traumatized by all that was happening, like darrow was there, stuck paralyzed on the ground by the venom, fitchner’s head on one side, nero and lorn killed by the jackal that has just shown his true face on the other, victra dying and roque having his judas moment. he did not know what had happened to sevro and mustang. peak dramatic moment. then cassius touched his hand and he was like “oh is he holding my hand??? <3” like BITCH BE SO FOR REAL this is not the moment to be gay (wrong it’s always the moment to be gay).

but also omg you saying that was cassius’s ring in Ig please like what if the rings were slightly different because maybe at the institute one was slightly scratched and so darrow realised that and virginia knew that too because she is observant. they looked at each other and the pin of remaining internalised homophobia in darrow made him say “maybe he lost the other one…” they both know it’s not true.

please you’re feeding my delusions too much I need chapter 9 of your fanfic 😭

Lol, that scene cracks me up, too. It’s such an unbelievably tense moment and I remember the first time I read it, I had to do a double–take, because—honestly, Darrow, these are your thoughts? Maybe apologize for destroying his entire House before you try for first–base.

(I am aware that Darrow thought Cassius was going to shake his hand, rather than hold it, but I think it says something spicy about Darrow that not only is he unfailingly tender where Cassius is concerned, he also invariably expects Cassius to return his affection—even after he admitted to killing Julian and did not apologize for it, he honestly believed that Cassius might forgive him. Like, dude, even Cassius isn’t that gay.)

But you’ve got me thinking of the end of MS now, when Darrow had just assassinated Octavia, overpowered the Jackal, and saved Cassius from the Joy Knight—y’know, he’s on the verge of either resounding success or crushing failure, trapped in the Dragonmaw, about to face Aja, the most terrifying razormaster in the system, with no armor and one hand. Despite all this, what is his stream of consciousness?

He grins, more alive in battle than anywhere else. I feel a pang, knowing this is always how it should have been. Missing the days where we rode together in the highlands pretending we were lords of the earth. I grin back at him, wounded, bleeding, but almost whole for the first time I can remember.

And Mustang has to literally tell them to focus and stop being gay. And you know what? They don’t. Good for them.

IIRC, they received new rings after they graduated from the Institute, ones that are iron rather than gold, but it’s possible that Darrow’s and Cassius’ could be perceptibly different.

I like to think Darrow and Mustang would both, independently, realize the ring was actually Cassius’, but never say anything. Darrow, because he’s a goddamn fool, wouldn’t understand the significance of it.

(Maybe Cassius was just confused? Sent the wrong one accidentally? Lost mine? I mean, what reason could he possibly have to send me his? 🤔)

But Mustang would, because she knows that Cassius is in love with Darrow (because it’s painfully obvious and, honestly, he probably confessed, while they were psuedo–dating) and it would make her smile.

And she would tell Victra, too, in confidence, who would find the entire thing hilarious.

I see the vision!

Ch. 9 is coming soon! Stay tuned. Tysm for reading.

Bonus points for the fact that, after the Iron Rain in GS, when Mustang is telling him everything that happened while he was unconscious, who is Darrow worried about? Guess.

“Oh, goryhell, you’re so tender sometimes. Do you regret cutting off his arm, too?”

[mushroomheadgirl]

I know the popular theory is that Greg will betray Tom, but I’m fully convinced that it’ll be the other way around.

so hear me out

Tom is just now realizing that Greg’s place will always be more secure than his has ever been. Tom doesn’t have shiv’s leg up or protection anymore. Greg is blood; Tom is an outsider, and Tom will start to resent Greg for that fact.

I don’t think cruises is over. Its coming back and I think Tom won’t be willing to take the fall for it anymore. I fully believe Tom will commit an 11th hour judas betrayal. He’s going to kiss Greg, or consummate their feelings in some sort of way, confirm everything between them is real and true; and then he’s going to turn Greg over and make him the fall guy because it’s not enough.

Because that’s the tragedy of succession, right? Love, no matter how real, isn’t enough. Greed and self preservation will destroy love every time.

[daveslutstaine]

I hope you have a great goddamn time going to see Gojira 🖤

You lamenting the work destroying going to shows reminds me of two things:

One. I am SO GLAD I was able to go see Slayer (and Phil Anselmo’s solo band ofc - that was the biggest reason I went at the time!) back in 2019. Still my favorite show I have ever been to (not for lack of trying, tho!)

And two. My latest band obsession is Static-X (that’s their late lead vocalist circa 2012 as my latest pfp), which kicked into high gear a little after Valentine’s Day. They were performing in a town comfortable driving distance from me two weeks before I became die hard, and four weeks before I myself would be vacationing with family in that same town. Maddening, I tell you 😭

Ah thanks (^-^) Korn is playing with them, but tbh I'm more interested Gojira than Korn. The tickets are at a good price too, I just need to find someone to come with since my folks aren't fond of the idea of me going by myself

It's gonna suck having to work night shift since yeah I'm gonna miss a lot of shows from the looks of it, but honestly since it's going to be my first real job in nursing, I'm not lamenting it too hard. My manager said she'll let me switch to day shift once I reach the six month mark, but even then I'm probably not going to be in the mood for going to concerts after a 12 hour shift. I'm also a (sadly) raging insomniac, so maybe the night shift will work just fine for me. Sure I'll miss out on some shows, but I won't have to deal with a lot of the BS day shift nurses deal with, and I'll be earning enough to finally take my dad out of his shitty second job, so if I have to sacrifice going to some concerts for it, then so be it.

Dude you are so lucky 😭 I was so close to seeing Slayer on their farewell tour but the ticket prices were nuts and the nearest show was 12 hours away. I ended up seeing Judas Priest and Saxon instead, though I will say I had a ton of fun watching them. Glen showed up too, and afterwards I was much happier having seen JP than Slayer.

That reminds me of two things. One, I need to revisit Static-X, and two I completely understand that. Last year, Megadeth came to my city the very day I had to be out of town for a family thing 😭😭😭 I was so pissed about it and I remember internally crying about it for about a week. I hope they come by again soon when I'm not working but who knows about that at this point.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi! Did Akasha threaten Gabrielle and Louis (to lestat) or did he assume?

Well, at first she tells him this:

"Gabrielle and Louis are safe. I've told you this. Do you think I would hurt those you love? Look into my eyes now and listen only to what I say. I have spared many more than are required. And this I did for you as well as for myself, that I may see myself reflected in immortal eyes, and hear the voices of my children speaking to me. But I chose the ones you love, the ones you would see again. I could not take that comfort from you. But now you are with me, and you must see and know what is being revealed to you. You must have courage to match mine."

But then Akasha starts to relate her plan, and we have this only shortly after:

Fear stopped me suddenly. Terrible fear for Gabrielle and Louis and Armand. For Marius. Even for Pandora and Mael. Fear for myself. There isn't a thing made that doesn't fight for life, even when there is no real justification. I wanted to live; I always had.

And then, after the temple, there is the shift where she spells it out that while she loves him, she won't have him disobey and he realizes the threat in it.

"Now, listen to me, beautiful one," she said. "I love you. You've awakened me from my long sleep and to my great purpose; it gives me joy merely to look at you, to see the light in your blue eyes, and to hear the sound of your voice. It would wound me beyond your understanding of pain to see you die. But as the stars are my witness, you will aid me in my mission. Or you will be no more than the instrument for the commencement, as Judas was to Christ. And I shall destroy you as Christ destroyed Judas once your usefulness is past."

Rage overcame me. I couldn't help myself. The shift from fear to anger was so fast, I was boiling inside. "But how do you dare to do these things!" I asked. "To send these ignorant souls abroad with mad lies!"

She stared at me in silence; it seemed she would strike out at me; her face became that of a statue again; and I thought, Well, the moment is now. I will die the way I saw Azim die. I can't save Gabrielle or Louis. I can't save Armand. I won't fight because it's useless. I won't move when it happens. I'll go deep into myself, perhaps, if I must run from the pain. I'll' find some last illusion like Baby Jenks did and cling to it until I am no longer Lestat.

When Lestat starts to refuse to just obey her it gets a bit more direct.

"But I will destroy you all if I have to," she said, vaguely, eyes searching for me, but not finding me. "Believe me when I say it. For this time I will not be vanquished; I will not lapse back. I will see my dreams realized."

And when they finally come together it's this:

Frightened. Frightened for them and for me. And strangely, for her. It was like a chill, the presentiment. For her. The one who might destroy all that I had ever loved.

So... iirc she never directly threatens Gabrielle and Louis to Lestat.

But the threat itself is always there and Lestat keeps thinking about that in every scene with her. And he adjusts his behavior accordingly at times.

[leuchtstabrebell]

Whumptober Day 8 /Prompt: Outnumbered

It was a gamble, walking around with her halo like this. It was not pleasant like the one Mary wore, golden and lovely. Judas' halo was cruel, and twisted, and disturbing.

When Mary let her halo show, people felt warm and welcome, and they wanted to make her feel that way too. When Judas let her halo show, people felt confused and lonely and afraid, and they wanted to make her feel that way too.

It wasn’t even dark when it happened, which is strange. In movies it’s always dark, and the streetlights are dim, and the sky is clouded and no one else is out. But Judas was waiting in front of the bookstore her friends had just entered, in broad daylight, and around her people were talking and laughing and arguing. There was a group of young men. They didn’t look mean.

There was a group of soldiers once that looked exactly like them. Their eyes were the same. Their whips were the same, stinging harshly on his her back. Her friends say that it never happened, or that it happened to one of them instead, or that it must be all of Jesus’ multitudes encroaching on foreign territory. Judas isn’t so sure though.

She remembers how the tiles of the pavement felt under her knees, how the bruises stayed for weeks. They stayed the longest. They always do, bruises of the self.

She hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings, had thought about what birthday present to buy Judith and other trivial shit like that. She’d fiddled with the handle of the bag.

She’d looked up, and they were there, suddenly, all around her, closing in.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

“Nothing,”

“What nothing, huh? You’ve been watching us, haven’t you?”

There was a lot of disgust. There was a lot of hate. There was a lot of fear.

“You fucking degenerate,” one of them had said. His da probably beats him, with a face like that, Judas had thought.

“Yeah, filthy fucking parasite, you think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, my friends are just waiting for me inside, I think I’ll–“

“Oh no, I think you’ll stay right here with us.”

I’ll tear them apart limb by limb, she had thought, for a moment. I’ll do it.

Or deeper. I’ll shred their memories and rip away everything they know, she had thought, as they had pulled her down.

Or even deeper. I’ll destroy their deepest core. They’ll never feel human again.

And so they had, as good Christians, listened to the sermon and acted as God wanted it. For a glorious moment she had honestly thought they’d go for real destruction.

But they had merely kicked her in the stomach, and in the rips, and kicked her head to the side, and when she had looked up through a fog, it had been an army surrounding her, and she’d smiled through bloody teeth. That had fucked them up the most, probably. Goliaths who’d thought themselves Davids.

The pain she felt was deeper and older than anything they could ever inflict.

Simon and Judith came running somewhere in the whole mess. Judas had sobbed on the ground, or maybe it had been laughter. Judith had knelt down and clutched her head. Simon had put a hand on Judas’ shoulder and screamed.

[avatar-jakara]

A Deal with the Devil

Manuscript

I give up.

Judas Kiara had walked miles west from Lucian to Fannie's Graveyard before he exploded and began to die.

Going to Lucian was a mistake. Before Judas could walk past the small town's wooden gates, the canine void-demons had emerged from the surrounding forest trees and chased him into the old graveyard. Once they had him cornered, the dozen canine effigies lunged at his body.

At impact, Judas' body began to purge itself of the void-beasts that had locked themselves inside of him. The explosive void rifts torn open by Judas, and the few like him, did not have a formal name. He coined the term 'void-out' to describe the uncontrollable purging his body performed every so often. As his body erupted, he retreated into his mind for a last visit home.

Colors swam and warped until a sunset came into being. The gloam settled over Judas' memory of Auqia. Shades of loss, regret, and longing spanned the polychromatic horizon and swam through the compact town. Reds and oranges beamed across the land and washed Auqia in its fiery warmth.

Judas was leaning against the large square hole in the wall overlooking the docks. Fish jumped about in the burning sea. Cries from children playing in the streets receded to the back of his mind.

"You keep staring out there, like you're looking for something," Raven paused. "Like something's going to come out of the water at any minute," she said with a small giggle. A gust of sea breeze blew into the room and she shivered.

Twenty-seven void-outs in hardly a decade. Each void-out brought Judas home to relive his life's most lucid death and were as overwhelming as the bloody sunset that day. The Kiaras and every other family was washed away in the sea that spilled out into and tore apart Auqia. His home, now deceased, existed only here in the bridged path between life and death.

The encroaching darkness began to drain the colors and sounds of rushing water. Isolated in the increasingly tenebrous space, Judas watched his father's back once more. His father carried on a one-sided conversation in his usual emphatically chatty fashion. Judas could never consciously place the conversation unfolding before him in any part of his childhood, yet he witnessed it each time he returned to his mind's Auqia.

". . .and a big storm that's everywhere and it's all around us and I can feel it-," Judas sank beneath the darkness and his father finally stopped.

Let me go, Judas pleaded to no one. Please, let them take me.

Judas gave in and withdrew from the light. As if his soul was weighed down by stone, he sunk deeper into aphotic solace. No one would remember him. He would leave no children. By his power, every trace of his life had been destroyed.

"Who's taking you?" A voice suddenly intruded.

The voice was hardly audible in the suffocating darkness. Judas failed to trace the sound in any direction. Perhaps a passing memory? Well, it would pass like all the others, so he ignored it.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" The voice called out to him with indignance.

The sudden aggression startled Judas, and he began searching the dark for the voice's origin. He stood consciously alone as he looked around in empty space. More yelling caught his senses and Judas surmised that the voice was somehow below him.

What type of memory was this? Judas had never needed to seek out a memory while he was trapped within this unknown space where he relived Auqia's destruction. Was this voice another part of the memory that he was only now able to access? Had death allowed him to confront some hidden part of his mind? Perhaps he was finally crossing over and this voice was the key to do so.

Judas focused again and sought out the voice that would lead him to his liberation. Willing himself to drown, he sank deeper, tracing the sound that had called out to him. He had hardly felt any real descent as he dragged himself through the darkness. Suddenly his senses came into contact with a vague shape captured in nothingness.

The trapped shape stopped speaking upon Judas' notice. No memory had looked like this before. The relived events usually overwhelmed Judas with the amount of detail they possessed. Yet this one was wrapped in mystery. It was settled in darkness, unable to manifest. What had been locked away here? Was it something Judas wanted to relive? Maybe his mind kept it away from everything else for a reason.

In his agitation, Judas struggled to reason with himself. Though this memory could lead him to the afterlife, how painful would it be? He tried to think of all the worst moments of his life that would warrant him to lock it away. How does one manifest the unknown?

Judas retired the idea that he would discover the memory inside himself.

"Are you done yet?"

Judas grimaced in annoyance at the bonded amalgamation before him.

He centered his focus on the shape and attempted to will it into being. His attempt would be the opposite of descending through the darkness. Instead of recalling the memory from within, Judas would allow it to surface outside of himself. He would meet this hidden specter at its own level. He grasped the specter from within its webbing and willed its ascension through the aphotic depths burdening it until a shape finally came into being.

A young man appeared before Judas, no older than himself. His loosely coiled hair danced about his face, maintaining his obscured visage.

"W-what are you?" Judas stammered.

"You're alive?" The man asked curiously. "Aren't you? You're not Kaeli, you're Antekuam right?"

Judas stepped back from the man. Although the figure had not moved, Judas felt the need to create space between them. Once he orientated himself, he looked around and recognized that he wasn't dying yet. He stood naked in the aphotic realm. The effigy before him came in and out between moments of clarity. Though no other details built themselves like the memory of Auqia did.

Then the words of the man registered in his mind. Kaeli and Antekuam, the two main distinctions between beings sharing the realm. The Kaeli were the immortals who ruled the heavens. The Antekuam were the mortals who worshiped the heavens, at least most of the time.

Not again, Judas inwardly grumbled. That Blood Syndicate asshole had been chasing him for days thinking he was Kaeli. The Blood, and this guy, were wasting their time. If Judas was a God of some sort, he wouldn't be running from the void-beasts constantly preying on him.

"I'm not a Kaeli. I'm just someone trying to die, but I'm realizing how difficult that is," Judas said in annoyance.

"Dying? Here? That's not going to happen. And you never answered my question. How are you here? Did they open the hole again?"

The man fired off questions one after the other. Judas was becoming overwhelmed and continued grimacing at the man. Brown eyes challenged Judas' white ones.

Judas turned and trudged through the black ichor suddenly flooding the space. As he continued, the ichor swelled. It quickly rose past his knees, continuing up to his waist, climbing to his chest, and then he coughed and hacked as the ichor filled his lungs.

He no longer felt himself drowning. Instead, Judas felt suspended in space, unable to transcend in any direction. The crushing of his bones would never end, and now he would be captured in this darkness. Had that man been a memory? Was this what awaited him? There was a worse idea that intruded Judas' thoughts. Was this death? Ceaseless pain?

A hand around his neck pulled at him and turned him towards two dazzling brown eyes.

"I'll make a compact that will save you," The man seemed to say, but without moving his mouth.

"Let me go, just let me die!" Judas struggled for air in the man's grasp, reaching for the strong arm and pleading to the glowing brown eyes.

"You're hanging onto me though," the brown eyes returned with a smile accenting their words.

Judas' fears piled onto his heart as he crumbled beneath the pain wracking his body. What is this? He thought his lungs would burst from the black ichor blocking his airways. He closed his eyes, counted, and waited for them to erupt and for himself to turn inside out.

Yet when he opened them, beyond the dark deluge flooding his senses, there were still those brown eyes floating above him.

"You're still hanging on," the eyes seemed to say.

"Who are you?" Judas asked.

"I'm Ferrau, God of Gluttony," he responded.

A Kaeli? Judas wondered why a God would show pity and try to save him. After everything he'd done, Judas felt Heaven was always seconds away from punishing him.

"Do you want to eat me then?"

"No, I'm offering a compact to save your life."

No doubt this Kaeli wanted to eat him. Judas squeezed the God's arm, as if testing if it were real, if it could be so dependable.

"Will it stop me from drowning? Will the pain go away?"

"I promise."

Judas clenched his eyes shut and tried to pry open his lungs by sheer force, but there was no clearing his asphyxiation. Ferrau noticed small droplets float away from the clenched eyes.

"Please," Judas begged.

Judas only faintly sensed an abrupt ascent at rapid speed.

The seven Moons glowed above in the night sky. Thousands of stars, each one representing the Kaeli, littered the vast, heavenly regions.

Judas realized he was lying in a field. He raised his torso in an upright position and saw the shallow black ichor pooling the graveyard.

Before he had a chance to reflect on his latest and strangest void-out, he could sense the beasts gathered around him. The void-demons filled Fannie's Graveyard. Judas surmised that these were all the ones that had been forced out of his body, and maybe some new ones. He feared that they would race back inside of him and the process would begin over once again.

Between himself and the nearest void-demons was a tall, ribbed figure. Ribbed, as in he had no stomach. He had flesh everywhere else, but nothing covered his entire torso. Torn flesh was loosely fastened to the ends of his hip bones and rib cage. Gawking at the man's exposed spine made a shiver run down Judas' own.

"I got it from here," Ferrau said, turning to the scared mortal.

Ferrau had disappeared. Judas could only catch flashes of movement as Ferrau flickered in and out of vision from one side of the graveyard to the next. It was a blur of motion as Ferrau fought through the waves of void-demons that once resided within Judas. He thought that the last void-out would finally kill him. There was a freedom he thought he would find in death. That didn't feel like freedom, he thought, it was just painful.

Not only did he live, now this God of Gluttony fought to keep him safe from the demons threatening to return him to the edge of life.

Judas could hardly rationalize what he was witnessing as the monsters tried and failed to attack the swift Ferrau. All around Judas, the demons exploded and vanished.

The naked, semi-skeletal God finally walked up to him, extending a hand. Judas realized he had still been sitting in the black ichor stained grass.

"I thought you were a memory that I'd buried away," Judas stammered out.

"You're strange.” Ferrau said, chuckling in a deep voice and speaking with an accent that bewildered Judas. “Get your lazy ass up and hold my hand.” Ferrau winked at Judas and the two smiled at one another.

Pale and brown eyes met once again, and Judas felt a heat rising up his throat.

[juszar2]

On This Sunday, What's God Saying...

I hear, revelation. The reveal of all things that I ever considered when I take a look around. The things that have caused me to be reserved and guarded and modest. All of the Satan that I identify. One of my favorite movies is Fallen with Denzel Washington. Though I do not view television anymore at all other than world occurrences in News (never local news), and real world clips. I'd stopped watching many years ago and it had been strictly World News, real documentaries and Politics. Fallen, while disturbing, it resonated with me so much when I saw it, because I am religious and I feel as if it is akin to real life. Art mimicking reality. And when like in the movie, when they know that we see them, it's worse. What I have seen confirms that there are two forces at work at all times. I understand motives and what plan Satan attempts to execute... like the over 50 fencer, sex in the building and on work trips (allegedly by several), treachery and done Everything in life, says - It likes to "set up" people. This is what Satan does, and uses people to play pivotal roles. Satan uses people's feelings of scorn, envy, jealousy, ego, the lack of courage disability, thirst for attention, and their sadistic nature to impart all of those things in the life of the Target. Satan targets what he hates... Dignity, love, light, sincerity, nobility, tenacity, class, reserve, and a desire to please God. Those who denounce Satan and his principles will see him attack their lives repeatedly from youth throughout and often in the same ways. If you don't hang in places where Satan dwells, well that's OK he'll just send them into your life through an open door. Through trashy, and those liability with similar traits. He'll come right through them. And it will be a plan all along. He will allow time for some to even grow through the years to be in place when the time comes. He'll make certain that they are deficient in class or dignity, and will have them approach using what is familiar. I see it clearly.

Satan knew what, who, and when to use. They say that just as you are nearing something great, that is when Satan will come to steel, kill, and destroy. Satan is fighting you for not only what you are... But what you reproduce in Godlike fashion. He is fighting for your excellence, your example, your legacy that evidences Gods favor over your entire life, and those that you duplicate. Satan wants it all and he will use liability like him. He wants the Legacy and weak, trashy, low, liability will be integral in the actual quite literal effort. If I were like em, Satan wouldn't be fighting me in this manner using this type. He wants to prevail using no class, criminal, low, deviant, depraved, envious, jealous, scorned, perverse, snakish, self absorbed, parasitic, demeaning, deceptive, Jacob from the bible lying, Judas and Peter.... Basically some toiletries. The more you lean toward dignity, the harder he wants to destroy your dignity. Now spread it open and get real vile and low and Satan will tell you you're "cool." He'll move you to do good work. But when Gods people see you in your pursuit they will tell you to Git!, straight to hell.

I am team mother-fuck you very much, where Satan is concerned. With God... Only, monogamously! And I am gonna try and recreate duplicate that in my life through what I shepherd. God acknowledges my work and sacrifice over 30 years. Me sacrificing one more time may be taking me under a bit even in areas and I say, I will forfeit resources for the sake of a future for beloved. So far God's been keeping up to reveal, block, tackle and bless. So on this Sunday, under attack, with numerous challenges and equations to solve... and every single day I say thank you God. And thank you to my Angels in the other realm whom I have seen in real time seemingly literally whisper in the ear of a living person right in front of me, or tap them on the shoulder to solve a challenge.... And instantly I know it was my Angels. Thank you

[wolint]

DESPAIR!

DESPAIR

2 Corinthians 4:8

 

Despair is the total loss of hope. Circumstances can press in around us to the extent that we cannot see a way out. To despair means we have turned our backs on hope because fear grips us, and hopelessness is what follows. Despair is found six times in the Old Testament with the sense of “being deprived of hope,” as seen in 1 Samuel 27:1, which is an example of how one can easily fall into despair.

What makes people reach a point of despair, though? Perhaps they forgot to keep their focus on the only one who can give them peace and hope - Jesus?

Despair comes to everyone at some point, most easily from realizing our separation from God. Sin offends God and separates us from Him. Because God is holy, He cannot ignore, excuse, or tolerate sin as though it didn’t matter. Sin cuts us off from Him, forming a wall to isolate God from the people He loves.

In Ezekiel 33:1, the Lord says He doesn’t desire the death of the wicked or sinner. But sadly, despair will drive many people to the point of death before they surrender to the Lord. People who die with their sins unforgiven separate themselves eternally from God. God wants them to live with Him forever, but He cannot take them into His holy presence unless their sin is removed.

A very good contrast of despair in humanity in the New Testament is seen in Judas Iscariot and Peter. Judas sold Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, and when the despair from guilt started eating him up, instead of repenting and turning back to Christ, he hung himself. Meanwhile, Peter repented, turned back to Christ for forgiveness, and didn’t allow despair to set in after denying Christ three times.

Despair means we have fixed our gaze on this world and are looking to it for happiness. Jesus warned us not to “fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear Him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:28), which is exactly what Peter did.

So many nations are in despair right now over so many things and are still unwilling to allow Christ in, turn to Him, or call out to Him. Their physical and moral senses are so dulled, making them oblivious to sin. But they must awaken from their complacency and admit their sins before it’s too late. Despair, in a sense, is to “give up hope for living.” Just the kind that Job’s wife exhibited. In chapter 2:9, she wanted Job to allow despair to push him to death, “curse God and die,” she declares from her own despair.

How about you? What has or what is despair pushing you to do? Is the guilt of your action causing despair that you want to give up, or are you willing to allow it to push you to repentance and turn to God?

We mustn’t allow despair to dictate or destroy our lives and destinies. It would, just like Judas, but we must look to God like Job.

Despair can turn us away from our real source of hope, which is Christ. Christians should not be surprised at the hostility and hardness of heart of unbelievers. Even when the power of God is fully and completely revealed, many will still refuse to repent. If you find yourself ignoring God more and more, turn back to Him now before your heart becomes too hard to repent, like Judas.

God can and will always provide hope to lift us out of despair if we turn to Him, like Peter did. Psalm 43:5 gives us a model of how to talk to ourselves when tempted to despair: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.” Regardless of how desperate we may be, there is hope that praising and rejoicing in God’s goodness can deliver us.

PRAYER: Lord, thank you that because of Your grace, love, and mercy, I cannot despair as my gaze is fixed on Jesus and not my circumstance. Have mercy on me, oh Lord, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

[harker-jonathan]

29 June.

To-day is the date of my last letter, and the Count has taken steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave the castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down the wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, that I might destroy him; but I fear that no weapon wrought alone by man's hand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait to see him return, for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came back to the library, and read there till I fell asleep.

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man can look as he said:

"To-morrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched; to-morrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula." I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity. Sincerity! It seems like a profanation of the word to write it in connection with such a monster, so asked him point-blank:

"Why may I not go to-night?"

"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a mission."

"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was some trick behind his smoothness. He said:

"And your baggage?"

"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time."

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real:

"You English have a saying which is close to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our boyars: 'Welcome the coming; speed the parting guest.' Come with me, my dear young friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house against your will, though sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it. Come!" With a stately gravity, he, with the lamp, preceded me down the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he stopped.

"Hark!"

Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music of a great orchestra seems to leap under the bâton of the conductor. After a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to draw it open.

To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, I looked all round, but could see no key of any kind.

As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew louder and angrier; their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their blunt-clawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I knew then that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:

"Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as they shot back into their places.

In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his hand to me; with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.

When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my ears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count:

"Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow night is yours!" There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking their lips. As I appeared they all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away.

I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so near the end? To-morrow! to-morrow! Lord, help me, and those to whom I am dear!

[rainsmediaradio]

Dunamis Seeds Of Destiny 13th December 2023 Devotional By Dr. Paul Enenche: Character Failure – The Real Problem.

TOPIC: Character Failure – The Real Problem Scripture:  Genesis 39:6. And he left all that he had in Joseph’s hand; and he knew not ought he had, save the bread which he did eat. And Joseph was a goodly person, and well favoured. Thought for The Day: Your character affects every realm of your life.

PASTOR PAUL ENENCHE’S SEEDS OF DESTINY DEVOTIONAL MESSAGE FOR 13TH DECEMBER 2023.

It has been confirmed that one of the worst attacks of the devil is attack on character. The devil imposes on a person the kind of character that will make them fail in life. A typical example of this was Judas Iscariot. He was privileged to be numbered among the twelve disciples of Jesus Christ. He ate and worked with Jesus Christ, but he missed out on eternal life because of character failure. His destiny was aborted because of character failure. Beloved, you must understand that your character affects every realm of your life. Your character affects your ministry, business, career, marriage, relationships, partnerships, etc. When a person has the right academic qualification, but exhibits the wrong character, failure is inevitable. Some people are at a point in their lives where their certificate is not the problem; witchcraft attack is not the problem; church attendance is not the problem; prayer life is not the problem; the only problem in their lives is character bankruptcy. Some people may not be lazy in life, they work very hard, and may even have the right connections, but something is wrong with their character. They have bad character, and as a result, they are unable to arrive at their desired destiny. Beloved, be determined to work on your character. Ask God for the grace to live right to fulfil destiny. Receive the grace to live right in Jesus’ Name. Remember this: Your character affects every realm of your life. ASSIGNMENTS: - Deal with character failure, the real problem of life. - Study the character of Jesus Christ and ask God for the grace to grow into His lifestyle and character. PRAYER: I receive the grace Lord, to study the character and life of Jesus Christ. Help me to live out the fruits of the Holy Spirit, Lord, in Jesus’ Name. FOR FURTHER UNDERSTANDING, GET THIS MESSAGE: CHARACTER AND FAVOUR (PART 1). QUOTE: When you sit down with someone to pieces the character of another, and destroy his personality, you are guilty of murder. It is called character assassination. Culled from the book, “WHO ARE YOU?” By Dr Paul Enenche. DAILY READING: Philemon-Hebrews 2 AMAZING FACT: Did you ever wonder why we have a leap year every four years? This is because a year on earth is not exactly 365 days but it is 365.2564 days. This extra 0.2564 day is adjusted with an extra day (leap day) in the month of February every four years. DECLARATION/WORD: Receive the grace to overcome every limiting character trait of your life in Jesus Name. Read the full article

[gabriel-gabdiel]

【Draft】 Rurouni Yahiko Chapter 60: The Curtain Falls

We now discuss the aftermath of another assassination attempt by the infamous Brigands Guild.

The Seiryu Clan are now gathering to protect their masters, the hatamoto-class samurai family of the Minakatas, like it's the Tokugawa Era all over again.

As the final daimyo of Shimabara, Tadachika Matsudaira of the Matsudaira Clan pledged his allegiance to Emperor Meiji.

As a show of good will towards the tenets of "Sonno Joi" of the new administration, Matsudaira allowed the new Meiji Government to hunt the Hidden Christians down and eventually crush the new Shimabara Rebellion of Nidaime Amakusa Shiro Tokisada (Shiro Tokisada Amakusa the Second).

Soon afterwards, the Shimabara Domain was abolished in 1871 and it became part of Nagasaki.

To avenge the death of his master (the blind swordsman Hyoue Nishida) at the hands of Hyoue's nephew Shogo Amakusa (at the time known as Shiro Amakusa the Second), Kinta Minakata agreed to infiltrate the ranks of the Kakure Kirishitan (Hidden Christian) cult to destroy it from within on behalf of the Meiji Government.

With his skill with the sword, the former Mimawarigumi Battousai learned to become Amakusa's Kagemusha (literally "Shadow Warrior" but figuratively "Body Double") and master Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu as they continued their insurrection, treason, assassinations, and terrorism of Japan.  

Only for Minakata to double-cross the Christians and defeat their cult leader Shiro Amakusa (real name Shogo Muto) in mortal combat. He became their literal Judas Iscariot.

Nevertheless, successfully deploying Kinta's Nisshoku (Solar Eclipse) against a formidable supersonic technique like Shogo's Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki (Heavens Gliding Dragon Flash)wasn't possible to do with just the Aoitsuki O Tsuki Nari (Blue Moon Slash).

The Blue Moon Slash—actually a Double Full Moon Slash done at the fraction of a fraction of a second—might be able to match the Hirameki in speed, but not in power.

Especially since the Amakakeru's left-footed torque gave it enough centrifugal force to create a vacuum or vortex of empty air, thus doubling the impact of the second strike.

Instead of creating a second Full Moon Slash, Kinta used his great skill and timing to reverse the direction of his circular slash from an upwards slash to a downwards one, moving the flipped blade on the same trajectory as before but backwards.

Reversing his momentum gave his sword the torque it needed to match the strength or even surpass the speed of the Hirameki's second slash, thus enabling him to do the Solar Eclipse counter on Shogo's ultimate technique. 

Like a reverse-direction Blue Moon Slash that slashed at the same empty space he'd already slashed through previously before the air could fill it up again, resulting in a frictionless strike that perfectly transferred its total energy without any wind resistance.

That was the Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Return). This was the ultimate hidden skill taught to Kinta by Amakusa's Uncle Hyoue.

The same one that the black sheep of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu discovered when he hesitated to deliver the killing blow to his own master, Seijuro Hiko XII.

A reverse-momentum riposte after missing with initial the battoujutsu or iaijutsu slash that sliced faster than the Blue Moon Slash and struck as hard as the second Hirameki slash.

***

Rurouni Yahiko

A Rurouni Kenshin Continuation Fan Fiction Story by Chester Castañeda

Take a bow. The night is over. The Brigands Guild latest assassination attempt has been foiled by Yahiko Myojin, the Sanada Ninjas, and Kinta Minakata… for now.

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, Viz, Sony Studios, Fuji TV, Studio Gallup, Studio Deen, and ADV. This disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted material that are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

***

Chapter 60: The Curtain Falls

***

Back at the front yard of the Minakata moneychanger office…

It was finally over.

"Ugh, NOOOOO! DAMMIT!" cried out Lucas Grant into the darkness, a velvet cloth of his own blood draping over his consciousness like a curtain over a theater stage, the light from his eyes fading.

He had him. Well, he almost had him. But he had him. He was so close. But he tripped at the finish line and underestimated him.

Or maybe Luke gave Kinta too much respect because his estranged brother truly was a saint among sinners when compared to the rest of his… their scumbag family.

Faster than even a Blue Moon Slash, he got sliced open from hip to shoulder. What just happened? What hit him exactly as he strode on the verge of victory?

"What was that technique?" Luke demanded to know, his body shaking like a leaf, his blood pooling below him.

"The Tsubame Gaeshi," answered Kinta while brushing away his matted hair in between belabored breaths, his face as pale as a ghost's.

While the bloody Lucas steamed with rage, high-blood pressure, and disbelief, Kinta exuded cold sweats, alabaster skin, and a dropping blood pressure.

In spite of himself, Luke laughed, blood spurting all over him in a shower. "Well done, Samurai."

The Prodigal Son then heard the self-proclaimed Fuuma Ninja Kai Hidaka scream something about getting over there.

Luke's head snapped into attention and stared to his side, only to see Kai engaged in battle with a tall blonde woman wielding a naginata.

His vision blurring, Luke had a brief dream of himself practicing the art of kenjutsu with his elder brother Kinta and that same European(?) girl he just saw like they were old childhood friends.

As if his delirium had taken over.

Only for the fantasy to shatter with the reality of him living in squalor as one of the forgotten burakumin (untouchables) of Japan, after the Minakata Family forsook him and his mother.

Only to see a vision of the Minakata’s disowned daughter working in the Red Light District of Yoshiwara to make ends meet for them, which roused him from his dead faint.

As he understood it, they quietly sent her away to preserve the dignity of the Minakata name, whatever that meant.

Tetsuo Akahori revealed the truth about him and the traitorous Minakatas who disowned his mother for having an affair with a foreign dignitary during the heightening tensions and growing anti-foreigner sentiment of Japan at the dawn of the Bakumatsu.

The single mother and her son became collateral damage against the hostility between the kowtowed shogunate, the restless samurai, and the gaijin who forced to open Japan's borders by force, revealing how backwards and primitive the country had become thanks to its isolationism.

No, wait. This was far from over.

 ***

Many years ago, before Niitsu Kakunoshin became the disciple of Hiko Seijuro XII…

A young, non-blind Hyoue Nishida faced a dilemma.

The deeply religious man needed to kill his beloved (if strict and no-nonsense) Master Hiko to learn the succession technique of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and become the newest inheritor of the swordsmanship school. However, doing so was at odds with his beliefs.

What was he supposed to do? He really needed to complete his training to protect the Hidden Christians from exposure and persecution from the Shogunate.

He'd heard of the horror stories of how the government tortured anyone they caught practicing this forbidden "foreign" religion, such as nearly drowning them by dunking them upside-down into a well or putting long carpentry nails into their fingertips until they recanted their faith.

Some Christians even had their fingernails plucked right out of their bed. Or they were outright crucified like their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Fearing how Western nations used Christianity to colonize other countries, the Tokugawa Government had a zero-tolerance policy against any citizen converting to Christianity.

This was the reason why the Hidden Christians remained hidden in plain sight, with their churches located inside caves and their statues of Jesus or Mother Mary as well as the cross put under lock and key in secret compartments.

The pacifistic swordsman Nishida wished to have the power to protect these persecuted faithful without spilling any bloodshed. He wanted to practice the Sword of Life the same way he followed the gospel or the Word of Life.

He wished to use Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu as his Sword of Life to wield for the sake of others and to protect people. His people. The Hidden Christians of Shimabara.

He wanted to do so through the same sword that defeated entire armies and saved whole villages during the Sengoku Era.

Those wielding the Sword of Life were absolutely not allowed to kill or to lose. To lose would not only spell their doom but also the doom of the ones they were trying to protect.

If his only options were to kill his master to succeed him or get killed himself, then he'd find a third option to save them both, so that everyone could end up happy. So he wouldn’t break one of the Ten Commandments.

After praying over and over again to God for guidance, the Christian peacemaker found his answer.

'God is great. Praise be to God,' Nishida had taught at the time. 'I leave my fate in your hands, oh Lord Jesus. I trust in You. Thy will be done.'

***

Back at the front yard of the Minakata moneychanger office…

Kai Hidaka couldn't believe his eyes. The damage sponge and unstoppable juggernaut known as Lucas Grant had finally fallen against the hands of the so-called Kagemusha in a single exchange.

At the same time, he heard the righteous indignation from the voice of the blonde bombshell known as Satsuki Sakaguchi (also known as May Brooks) for good measure, with her charging forward with her trusty naginata (polearm blade) in tow.

"Keep your mitts away from Kyoko-chan and Mr. Sakaguchi!" screamed Satsuki at him.

Hidaka, her opponent, also currently looked like a dagger pincushion thanks to the efforts of Zan of the Sanada Demons.

Man, today just wasn't their day, was it? By "them", he meant the Brigands Guild.

Cursing under his breath, Kai charged, ignoring the agony of his body that served as a knife holder to Zan's daggers.

As for May's part, she saw red as soon as she got a look at the state of Kyoko Sakaguchi and her father Satoru. She didn't even have time to register that Kinta Minakata himself faced his own death match just a few yards away.

Like a purebred mare with blinders on, she focused solely on the ninja with the destroyed gas mask. A traitorous Japanese or East Asian man on the side of gaijin assassins.

He'd touch not one hair on either of them. Her Grandpa Sakaguchi's family. No, her family.

Something weird then happened. Kai found himself in the same predicament as before with Zan. Satsuki could reach and slash at him with Old or Young Moon Slashes at will with an insane reach.

Like she had an infinite supply of throwing knives that she used to suppress Hidaka from getting anywhere near Satoru and Kyoko Sakaguchi. Except it was a blade on a stick so she recycled her throwing knives by stabbing the same blade every time.

After struggling against a strange centipede version of the lion dance mascot with reinforced steel carapaces, razor-sharp limbs, and experienced Chinese kung-fu experts serving as its puppeteers earlier, she could finally let off some steam against one of the brigands.

She intended to defeat Kai like she did the gigantic human centipede mascot: By controlling the distance and taking him apart piece-by-piece, like her taking down those martial artist hooligans one-by-one. Thusly, that was what happened.

The already exhausted Fuuma Clan Ninja couldn't even touch the Caucasian martial artist, her naginata's slashing and stabbing range as far as that of a thrown projectile. Or, ironically, one of Hidaka's rope hooks and darts.

She unloaded on him like a Gatling gun onto an advancing army. Or even a Maxim gun. Every time Kai tried to get near her, it felt like he just dove face-first into a cactus patch. Or a shower of flesh-rending broken glass.

***

Many years ago, before Niitsu Kakunoshin became the disciple of Hiko Seijuro XII…

Hyoue Nishida found a way to master Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and learn the Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki without murdering his beloved master over it, and it rooted from him hearing about tales of the inimitable Kojiro Sasaki battling against Musashi Miyamoto.

Hyoue had never seen Kojiro's signature technique before, but he heard stories about how the riposte moved so quick it allowed Sasaki to cut apart a sparrow or swallow (hence its name) in mid-flight. 

He had been secretly practicing the Swallow Return over and over ever behind his master's back since he first heard about its legend leading up to his confrontation with his master.

He tried to figure out its mechanics from merely hearing about how it worked. To reverse-engineer a move he'd only heard about from rumors, legends, and folktales.

Hyoue threw caution to the wind and let his fate in the hands of his Christian God, the Almighty Yahweh. If he died in his attempt to spare his master's life, then so be it.

That was the kind of man Hyoue Nishida was.

And so the day of him learning the succession technique arrived. He was able to do the Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki but intentionally missed with his first strike.

His master blocked then did the Kuzu Ryu Sen (Nine-Headed Dragon Flash) to force him to do the even stronger second follow-up strike. A surefire killing blow with any normal katana (as opposed to the sakabatou).

However, Hyoue refused to do the second strike that would've finished Seijuro Hiko XII off.

Instead, he did an imperfect version of the Swallow Return, resulting in him getting blown back by Master Hiko's Kuzu Ryu Sen.

A miracle then happened during the fateful duel between master and student.

Hyoue ended up slipping off the cliff he and his master fought on, dropping into the waterfall below after getting lacerated all over by his master's multi-hit move.

However, he avoided death from his refusal to do the succession technique properly because the Tsubame Gaeshi managed to shatter Seijuro's sword in turn, so his cuts ultimately ended up shallow and non-fatal.

Later on, after recovering from his wounds, he'd thank God for helping him learn not one but two new skills—the Hirameki and the Tsubame Gaeshi—while keeping his master from dying by his hands in order to learn them.

***

Back at the front yard of the Minakata moneychanger office…

Kai Hidaka had enough of Satsuki Sakaguchi's "Death by a Thousand Cuts" nonsense and pulled one of the daggers on (or in) his person to throw it at the wobbly and spent Kinta to complete their assassination mission.

Predictably, this made Satsuki charge and attack up close, deflecting the dagger before it could even reach Kinta's back. With her moving right into Kai's range so that he didn't need to close the distance between them.

"That's right. GET OVER HERE!" screamed the Fuuma shinobi.

At such a close range, her long-ranged polearm was rendered moot while Kai Hidaka could move freely with his sword daggers and entangle her with his rope darts.

"Satsuki-neechan, watch out!" cried out Kyoko as she covered her face by reflex yet peeked out of her open fingers to see what happened next.

'Ha. Women are so emotional and predictable,' thought Kai as he withstood May’s flesh-cutting slashes and dodged the stabbing attempt that would've run him through.

May Brooks smirked. For the last few weeks, she'd been sparring with Yahiko Myojin to learn how to dodge and defend herself from close-range, knowing that was her previous weak point.

'What the hell…!?' thought Hidaka as Brooks shortened her grip on her polearm and held it closer to the blade, like a regular sword.

This allowed her to parry his quicker, shorter swords with her blade or even use the freed up space on her pole to deflect his attacks from there, with her gripping it like a sword with an extra-long handle.

"MIKAZUKI O TSUKU NARI (CRESCENT MOON SLASH)!"

She could throw Crescent and Quarter Moon Slashes at that midrange as well. Whether it was from the Waxing or Waning Stance.

And, when Kai attempted to escape from her close-quarter rampage to regroup, she merely gripped her naginata normally by its base to slash at him from mid-range to long-range. He couldn't escape from her at all.

The bloody Kai dodged those slashes regardless and moved in even closer, intending to grapple with the tall woman, grab her from behind, and then slit her throat.

The adopted Sakaguchi daughter merely stepped back and responded with a, "HANGETSU O TSUKU NARI (HALF MOON SLASH)!" that, lucky for Kai, hit him by the blunt pole end instead of the sharp bladed end.

Kai dropped to his side like a bag of hammers. Fortunately, he avoided having the knives in his person stab him any worse than before.

***

After Hyoue Nishida spared himself and his master Hiko Seijuro XII from needing to kill each other to master Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu...

Nishida would later become one of the founding fathers of Musou Madden Ryu, the swordsmanship school Kinta would eventually master.

The Seiryu Clan helped him develop his own swordsmanship skills divorced from Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, which in turn allowed him to protect the Hidden Christians from harm and discovery against the Tokugawa Shogunate.

He became the bane of many an officer of the law, samurai, or local authorities in Shimabara, hiding under the masked identity of Kirisaki of the Hidden Christians. Their divine protector from persecution and death.

Notably, Kirisaki the Christian freed jailed and tortured Christians or helped them find refuge among other Hidden Christians while never taking the life of their enemies.

The ruling shogunate also tolerated Kirisaki’s presence because on top of rescuing rogue Christians, he also helped catch criminals for them.

As though exchanging the lives of the criminals for the Christians he saved.

Kirisaki became an asset to the government it defied, so they turned a blind eye on its treasonous activities of hiding and rescuing essentially fugitives of the law in exchange for his vigilantism.

Like Morihei Ueshiba with the development of Aikido, the Christian swordsman considered Musou Madden Ryu as a synthesis of his martial studies, philosophy, and religious beliefs.

It combined everything Nishida learned from Sengoku Era Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and old-school battoujutsu with Hasegawa Eishin Ryu, an iaijutsu koryu from the 16th Century founded by Chikaranosuke Eishin Hasegawa.

By the way, the Sakaguchis previously studied under Hasegawa Eishin Ryu prior to the development of Musou Madden Ryu.

From under this school did Hyoue, the Sakaguchis, and several others derive their take on modern iaijutsu or iaido before and after the Bakumatsu commenced in earnest.

Some students followed Hyoue's pacifistic "Sword of Life" lessons. Nishida and Ueshiba shared the same goal of creating a martial art that practitioners could use to defend themselves while also protecting their attackers from harm.

Others insisted in continuing to go the path of the "Sword of Death" or old-school kenjutsu and iaijutsu because in reality, kenjutsu was the art of killing and katanas were weapons used for murder.

They merely used "Sword of Life" as a safe way to practice and temper their deadly skills. Like doing no-contact sparring and kata drills before engaging in "the real deal".

However, as Japan went to civil war and heads of state rolled in Shimabara, the old officers that tolerated Kirisaki and his protection of Hidden Christians died out.

The "Sonno Joi" movement also led to renewed hatred of everything foreign, including Christians who followed the religion of foreigners. They got hunted down like stray dogs in times of famine soon after.

Years after Hyoue rescued his young nephew and niece from being purged for being Hidden Christians, he'd later get blinded by a teenaged Shogo Amakusa because he wanted revenge against the new government.

Hyoue would later train how to use the "Sword of Life" while blind, using his other sharpened senses to deal with people safely in battle, with him only using violence as a last resort.

All this time, even during the middle of the Bakumatsu, Nishida never took a life. He wasn't a pure pacifist. He was willing to draw swords and do battle when push came to shove. However, like Kenshin as a rurouni, he followed a non-killing vow.

And his nephew Shogo bitterly blamed this vow for the deaths of their people.

In the end, the Swallow Return was also the last technique Nishida used before dying in the hands of his nephew, the self-proclaimed Second Coming of Shiro Amakusa, Shogo Muto.

That was the blind swordsman's last-ditch effort to keep his nephew Shogo from going the dark path of cult leader and domestic terrorist.

Hyoue remained defiant to the end, unwilling to compromise on his Christian beliefs and unwillingness to take a life even at the cost of his own.

***

Like a newborn fawn, Lucas stood and wobbled on shaky legs, his clicky knees knocking together like the Shinsengumi knocking on your door, thinking you were harboring an Ishin Shishi fugitive.

By sheer force of will, he trudged forward.

Despite everything, the wheezing Kinta also sacrificed himself to land that last attack when by the tail end of their protracted battle, no Full Moon Slash or Double Full Moon Slash could land on Lucas.

Doing a Full Moon Slash iaijutsu from the start subjected the swordsman’s body to muscle-tearing or even bone-crushing centrifugal forces, especially one involving a reverse-momentum riposte like the Swallow Return!

It was hard to imagine the damage he was doing to his body, but surely it was enough to push him over his own limits!

Kinta's gasping mouth went agape as his little bastard brother marched towards him. Like an unkillable zombie. Like the Ochimusha the Minakatas were allegedly descended from.

What did it take for Luke to go down? How was he still standing?!

What did he go through all those years after he and his mother were banished from the Minakata Family that pushed him beyond his human limits?

Kinta himself sheathed his sword and hobbled in anticipation of his bastard brother's final attack, his scratchy throat withholding a bloody cough.

The Prodigal Son of the Minakatas had every right to wipe out their sinful clan.

However, it remained Kinta's duty as the grandson, nephew, and son of the family to protect his uncles and grandmother.

Lucas then leaped towards his unlucky brother as soon as his body gave in and he coughed, blood spraying from his mouth.

At the side of the entrance, both Yahiko Myojin and Sho Kojima—who accompanied Tatsuya Minakata back to the office to rescue Kinta —ran as fast as they could towards the Prodigal Son as soon as they spotted him attacking a coughing and defenseless Kinta.

Alas, they were too far away to make it.

Ditto with May Brooks, who'd just made short work of the injured Kai Hidaka.

She ran blindly at Lucas Grant, unaware of his connection with Kinta Minakata, but stopped short from running him through in spite of herself.

After years of living in Japan as the only other "gaijin", it was the first time she'd seen someone who was Caucasian like her, which sent a shock to her system for about a second.

A second was all the time Luke needed to finish off the huge wall that kept him from enacting revenge at the evil Minakata Family.

A flying kunai not unlike those wielded by Zan of the Sanada Demons flew in between Grant's eyes.

 "Who…!?" a frothing Lucas demanded as used his sword's handle to deflect the weapon, his one second of opportunity to assassinate Kinta now gone.

Did that damn persistent Zan revive and get in his way again? No, it was the dagger of the other ninja bodyguard who was also from the Sanada Ninja Clan. Their young master, Kaita.

Luke swiped at Kinta regardless, blindly hitting the invisible ninja instead as his crossed short blades broke under the weight of the heavy bastard sword.

The Prodigal Son then turned and blocked a sudden naginata slash with his blade, leaving him open to a number of other incoming attacks. Turning the full-rotation Full Moon Slash into a Half Moon Slash.

"Get the hell away from Kinta-sama…!" screamed Satsuki Sakaguchi, who remembered who she was now.

Or rather, who she became: A devoted student of Musou Madden Ryu and the adopted granddaughter of the Sakaguchis, who in turn loyally served under the Minakata Family since the olden times of the Shogunate.

It was Luke’s turn to wonder where he was and why he was fighting a blue-eyed blonde Caucasian warrior woman in full martial artist garb wielding a Japanese glaive, his brain unable to process what he saw. 

'Wait a minute. This girl…!' he thought. He couldn’t possibly be mistaken.

Unless he met another tall, white (creamy pink, more like) golden-haired woman in Japan, he had seen this girl before. The chances of meeting two foreign blonde girls who spoke fluent Japanese in Japan were next to nil!

Lucas then noticed the incoming attacks of his other hindrances.

The charging Yahiko's temple then got clipped by a hook punch from the struggling Luke, but as he fell to the ground, he pushed forward and did the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu Tsuka no Gedan—Hiza Hijiki knee strike that made the Prodigal Son buckle.

Finally, Sho unsheathed his sword and let its handle fly into Luke's gut, knocking the wind out of him and making him drop his sword in wincing pain, which embedded itself to the ground.

This was another form of the Lunar Eclipse: A half-drawn blade with the handle aimed at the opponent's gut before either could fully draw their blades.

Like a rampaging gorilla, Luke punched, kicked, elbowed, and threw the people nearest him, his eyes solely focused on his half-brother Kinta, who had already recovered from his coughing fit.

Yahiko shook his head in disbelief. What did it take to put this man down? He seemed as strong as Sanosuke, if not stronger…!

Soon, a dogpile occurred. Multiple coppers were called into the Yokohama Chinatown to seize the assassin. They became messy entanglemen of limbs, sai, wooden swords, and rope.

The police finally arrived along with Chizuru Raikouji and Abelia La Cerca.

The dead-tired Yahiko surveyed the carnage. Blood spilled everywhere. Several people were injured. Multiple bodyguards were killed inside and outside the moneychanger building.

Regardless, the Brigands Guild's invasion in Chinatown had ended, at long last.

'It's finally over,' thought the exhausted Kinta as Abelia tended to him and his wounds.

***

The Yokohama Police had quite the busy night, with them arresting criminals working with foreign invader assassins left and right, most of which were Chinese nationals from the local Chinatown criminal syndicate.

However, only Lucas Grant ended up getting arrested. Somehow, someway, while they were all distracted by Luke's last-ditch attempt at taking out his half-brother Kinta, Kai Hidaka disappeared.

The aching Yahiko suspected that The Faceless had something to do with it. He probably fetched his fellow Brigands Guild member in the middle of the chaos.

He almost had him too during their duel, but the strange masked brigand had more tricks up his sleeve like the experienced mercenary that he was. Like he changed personalities and styles depending on the mask he wore.

‘Now who does that remind me of?’ the teenaged samurai thought with a smirk.

However, their boss had now been caught by the authorities. Will they still continue with their mission of taking out the wealthy and influential Minakata Family?

Meanwhile, little Abelia attended to the gasping and wheezing Kinta after applying first-aid on Satoru Sakaguchi and his daughter Kyoko along with the other medics on the scene looking for other survivors.

Bandages and salves were also handed off to Yahiko Myojin and Satsuki Sakaguchi.

The two sparring mates grinned at one another and crossed their weapons together. Their lengthy training sessions at the Sakaguchi Dojo had paid dividends tonight.

"Good work, Joshua-kun!"

"You too, Satsuki!"

Chizuru herself pinched one of Yahiko's ears like an irate mother and chewed him out for not being careful and needlessly involving himself with other people's business to the point of risking his life.

Like she didn't know better by now.

Yahiko rolled his eyes and allowed the lady to scold him as he withheld a wistful smile that sneaked into the corners of his mouth. Again, though she’d hate to hear him say it, Chizuru reminded him so much of Kaoru Kamiya back at the Kamiya Dojo.

Yahiko had actually reunited with Gan and Minoe earlier, in the middle of him, Kojima, and Kinta's uncle returning to the moneychanger office.

The pair of Munenori Minoe and the Great Gan took down the Chinese mercenaries wearing the lion dance costume in typical violent fashion.

Indeed, Minoe ended up helping out with the mission despite viewing Kinta Minakata as the traitor to Shogo Amakusa’s rebellion, but he was unwilling to join Yahiko any further.

The Tokyo Samurai Descendant thanked the wandering terrorist with the eye patch and wig regardless.

Yahiko had no idea how Kinta Minakata betrayed Munenri, Amakusa, and the Hidden Christians, but he thought better than to pry right now.

The Battousai Group was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. He’d have to deal with them eventually, of course.

After all, there were foreign invaders afoot. Someone hired them to finish off the so-called Seiryu Clan.

He also had a gut feeling that Amakusa’s faction and the current turn of events were all interconnected somehow.

It seemed too convenient for a Fake Battousai Group to harangue the Sakaguchis, only for the real one to finish them off.

Perhaps Keisuke used the name of one of the Sakaguchis’ enemies for himself. Or perhaps the Battousai Group was the enemy of the Minakatas, which in turn made them the enemies of the Sakaguchis by proxy.

***

Kinta took a long drag of his asthma cigarettes—not made of tobacco, but instead from the leaves of Datura stramonium (thorn apple) that were widely sold in the 1800s and into the early 1900s—given to him by Abelia La Cerca to relieve his respiratory emergency.

The cigarettes provided a means of delivering an inhaled treatment that would be later known by 20th Century medicine as an antimuscarinic alkaloid.

Other than almost suffocating to a dead faint due to exhaustion, he was none the worse for wear. He barely had any cuts deeper than a laceration on him. Most of the blood on his clothes were from Lucas.

Nevertheless, he was the one who almost died instead of his stamina monster of a brother. That (literal) bastard pushed him to his (present) limits.

His whole body trembled and ached from muscle strain. He felt like going into a deep sleep, afraid it’d turn into a coma he wouldn’t wake up from.

Kinta's adrenalin probably still kept him up and standing like his brother did before he was apprehended.

"Are you okay, Kinta-sama?" said Officer Satoru Sakaguchi, who himself got injured by one of the brigands of the Brigands Guild. "It’s time for you to head home and rest."

'He still calls me, Kinta-sama, eh?' Wistfully, Kinta looked up at the endless blackness of the sky and its infinite stars then marveled:

"It's been 17, almost 18 years since the Meiji Era started. There's no reason for you to be trapped into a master-servant relationship with our family."

After a brief pause, Lieutenant Satoru answered, "Don't be silly. Just because of the administration's edicts, we're going to throw away hundreds of years of gratitude? Don't be a stranger, Kinta-sama."

"It's a stupid old tradition," insisted Kinta. "Your family shouldn’t be shackled to mine. Samurai no longer exist. The hatamoto class died out along with the Shogunate."

"Come on, don't make me say it, Sir Kinta." Satoru grinned. "The bonds between our families run deeper than mere traditions and classes. We Sakaguchis are loyal to you because we choose to! We’re bound by fate at this point."

***

Yahiko poked around and eavesdropped on the Yokohama Police chatting with the "Sword of Life" swordsman and drunkard earlier. His name was Sho Kojima, wasn't it?

Sho seemed to have finally sobered up after using his mix of the Drunken Fist and Musou Madden Ryu swordsmanship at The Faceless.

Myojin overheard something about them apprehending three of five known Brigands Guild members.

One had been jailed already—someone who almost killed a squad of Yokohama Policemen had they not been saved in time by that other foreigner girl the size of a ten year old who knew all about western medicine and drugs.

They also put in chains a swarthy hairy giant of a muscular man who wielded a huge ax like it weighed as much as an ordinary sword. They arrested him back in one of the Minakata Family’s many mansions.

And now they actually caught the mastermind of the mercenaries with a direct link to the Minakatas, Lucas Grant. Right on time too, before he could murder one member of their family.

However, it was at the risk and cost of the lives of many of Yokohama’s Finest and their hired private bodyguards, one of whom Lucas impersonated in order to get close to the family.

Had the Minakata Family drama not have national security consequences when push came to shove, Yahiko would rather not interfere with it.

Also, the Akahoris were also somehow intertwined with Minakata busines. Nepotism ran deep in the Meiji Oligarchy, after all, as evidenced by the likes of Jusanro Tani.

Could it be that the Akahoris were also in league with the Minakatas? Could it be that the shared the same enemy, which was Amakusa’s faction?

If so, then why did it seem like Minoe had nothing to do with these Brigands Guild of mercenaries? He was willing to take them down, even for Kinta’s sake.

Yahiko scratched his chin. Maybe he needed to send a carrier pigeon to the Kyoto Oniwabanshu so that he could glean more info on this Seiryu Clan and Minakata Zaibatsu.

Myojin decided then and there to keep digging deeper. What was the reason behind Amakusa's use of Kenshin's name Battousai? Why did he and Minoe’s other self, Kaede, know how to use Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu?

How was Kinta related to the Battousai Group? Did it go beyond him once being called the Mimawarigumi Battousai? Was he another Battousai wannabe too, by that logic?

Just like how Minoe, without the wig and eyepatch, or his other self, Kaede, if she were another gender, was the spirit and image of Kenshin himself?

Oh wait. That last technique Kinta did. The Swallow Return. That was legendary iaijutsu or battoujutsu invented by the famous Kojiro Sasaki himself! Musashi Miyamoto’s chief rival!

Could such a legendary technique from a historical figure like Kojiro counter Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu’s Heavens Gliding Dragon Flash? Yahiko could only wonder in amazement.

However, to Yahiko, being Kenshin-like wasn’t about techniques and strength. It was more than just being named "Battousai" as well.

It was about moving forward despite all the suffering and crippling depression he faced. It was about being honorable in the face of an imperfect new government filled with corruption.

It was about the strength of defending life after being burdened by the unwashable guilt of taking so many lives. 

It was about viewing the true nature of samurai as to improve, become stronger, and become knowledgeable than you were before. Being a samurai meant self-improvement in every sense of the word.

Rather than the other face of samurai being armed thugs serving the Shogunate who were born with privilege. And when that privilege was taken away from them, the samurai became no better than bandit and criminals.

Most importantly, what was the deal with this so-called Seiryu Clan he kept hearing about?

***

"Ah! I almost forgot ‘bout you! Hold still, Señor Samurai!" said the foreign-looking little girl with rust-brown hair who appeared out of nowhere and began bandaging Yahiko’s wounds.

Yahiko took one look at the kid and then called out to the nearby police, "Hey, there’s a lost child here. Might be a foreign kid from the Yokohama Foreign Settlement or something!”

This earned him a bonk on the head from the violent kid. She was a brat, truly.

"OW! Hey! What was that for?"

"What do you mean 'What was that for?' You called me a lost child!" the girl pointed out.

Then, to Yahiko’s utter befuddlement, the taciturn Kinta turned towards him and told him, "She's with us."

This in turn earned the already injured Kinta a bonk on his head, followed by an apology. "AH! I’m sorry, Señor Kinta! But that doesn’t clear things up with him at all!"

Rubbing the bump on his head as he watched the doting child scold the poker-faced Minakata, Myojin remembered where he first met the girl. Well, saw her.

It was at the Sakaguchi Dojo. She was with Kinta and that drunken swordsman dude who helped him take on The Faceless, Kojima.

According to the Yokohama Police, she was some kid that had connections with the Brigands Guild that was after the Minakatas. She helped saved them from one of the members, a poison-based assassin.

She was also a lot older than she looked apparently, like she was more of a little person than a child, but Yahiko wasn’t so sure about that claim. Big if true.

The adorable young/old person then turned towards Yahiko and asked, "What's your name again?"

"Huh? Me? Uh, it’s Yahiko. Myojin Yahiko."

"Charmed. My name is Abelia La Cerca. Como estas? I mean, how do you do?"

"Uh, I’m doing fine. Thanks."

'La Cerca?' thought Yahiko. The police told him that was one of The Faceless' many aliases. So she was related to one of the Brigands, huh? Could they trust her?  What if she was the Brigands’ mole?

"But you're just a li'l kid," he almost muttered to himself rather than to Abelia.

"Right back at you, kiddo. You're barely a teenager," said the childlike girl midget before him. Girl midget? Gidget?

"Well, you're barely pubescent!" he said. "…Right?"

"It doesn't matter anyway," she said as she attended to Yahiko's wounds with ointment and bandages.

"Heard from the police you have connections with the Minakata's present enemies, the Brigands Guild. Like you're related to some of them or something."

This made Abelia pause. "What of it, Señor Samurai? Are you accusing me of something? Even though you're more of a rando yourself, snooping into other peoples' business?"

"HEY! I'm a friend of the friend of the samurai family serving under the Minakatas, I'll have you know!" blurted out Yahiko in defense of himself.

He felt a pang of regret from leaving out the part where he decided to intervene into the Minakata Familiy's affairs because of their Kinta's to Shogo Amakusa's Battousai Group.

That info was on a need-to-know basis, but at the same time, he was ironically becoming a hypocritical interloper on someone else's business himself.

"…Heard from Señor Kojima that you're some vagabond who volunteered to become Señor Kinta's bodyguard. And you didn't do half bad against, uh, The Faceless," Abelia said, changing the subject.

Yahiko rubbed the back of his head, flattered.

"Jeez, I was lucky to get some shots in against The Faceless and his fencing style! That Drunken Fist Samurai is your friend too? Well, he ultimately bailed me out in the end. Oh, and Kinta’s personal ninja helped too."

***

As the police secured the perimeter, tagged the bodies, arrested the perps, and gathered evidence, Yahiko finally left that moneychanger office in Chinatown. He'd finally told them his eyewitness account of what happened, so he was free to go.

Go home, perhaps? Nope, he was far away from Tokyo now. Well, maybe a train ride away, at least.

However, he was already in too deep. As the inheritor of Kenshin's sakabatou and the kanji of "Evil" behind Sanosuke's back, he had a job to do.

There were people using the Hitokiri Battousai's name in vain, creating a so-called Battousai Group meant to sow discord in the Meiji Era.

He had to take these insurgents down.

Furthermore, a former Mimawarigumi member and his Hatamoto-Class Samurai Family were in peril against literal foreign invaders at that.

This man, Kinta, might be his biggest lead yet in taking down the Battousaigumi before they could reform and wreak havoc in peacetime Japan, undoing all the hard work the Kenshingumi did in defending the country against Makoto Shishio's Ten Swords.

Yahiko's eavesdropping also helped him hear whispers about a certain Seiryu Clan and their… Black Book. A book full of names and secrets that could unravel the very fabric of the Meiji Government.

A literal government conspiracy was afoot in the middle of Yahiko investigating a bunch of terrorists sullying the good name of Kenshin Kamiya (nee Himura).

'I'll cross that bridge when I get there,' he thought while rubbing his temples with his fingers. 'What's important is that I've found another potential member of the Battousai Group while keeping an eye on another.'

Yahiko took a deep breath, remembering his misadventures with the eye-patched Munenori Minoe. Or rather, the volatile Kaede Morinaga.

The Battousai of Speed had finally met up with the traitor to their cause, the Mimawarigumi Battousai, also known as the Battousai of Skill.

The ninja turned towards Yahiko, who almost flinched and turned away, but willed himself to stare at him eye-to-eye.

"I had no idea Takae was your father," Yahiko said honestly. "I'm sorry for your loss. He was an honorable fighter who saved my life in the end."

"What is your name, Yojimbo?" asked Kaita.

"Myojin Yahiko," said Yahiko Myojin. "The son of Tokyo Samurai."

"Fine. Myojin Yahiko," Kaita Takae pointed his kunai at the teenaged swordsman. "Until I kill you, make sure no one else kills you."

From there, the son of Masahiro Takae who inherited all of his tricks disappeared in the blink of an eye, his silhouette fading from the light and merging back into the shadows.

***

To Be Continued...

Yes. I combined elements of the Shimabara Arc and the Black Knights arc together for this fanfic's continuity. In light of that, you can consider this fanfic an "Elseworlds" type of story that happens directly after "Yahiko's Sakabatou".

It hinges on the alternative universe premise of "Had the Kenshingumi never met their filler villains (because Kenshin was too busy dealing with Enishi), what would've happened to them?"

It follows portions of the 1996 anime and the manga's Iinchu Arc but skips the filler episode seasons altogether. I do think that characters like Shogo Amakusa were wasted potential, especially since he was supposed to be more skilled than Kenshin and has his own signature move.

Shogo's Uncle Hyoue also fascinated me, particularly his motivation for learning Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu as a Hidden Christian.

Danke, Abdiel