#Taken out of your own heart is the closest to divinity I’ve ever gotten | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chansmuffin · 3 years

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Golden Bridge | three

When your soulmate rejects you and you feel like your worlds ending, you meet someone who puts your pieces back together.

Genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut - soulmate!au

Pairing: minhoxfem!reader, changbinxfem!reader

Word count: 2k

mlist, one, two, three, four, five

“That was taken off the menu yesterday,” Minho said regretfully when you ordered your normal.

“Shit,” you muttered, “I’ve had that every day for the past two months.”

He nodded, “And for two months I wondered when you’d switch it up, I guess now is the time,” he replied cheerfully.

You groaned, “I don’t know what to get though.”

It was just past midnight and the coffee shop was dead save for one person tucked into a corner on their laptop.

Minho gave you a shrug, “I make a really mean cup of coffee.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Lyn always makes my coffee.”

“Am I not good enough?”

“You are a cello player,” you reminded him, “I have to doubt your taste.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lyn interrupted, “no nerdy orchestra debate here.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Do your best, cello player.”

He squinted his eyes at you, “You’re gonna turn that frown upside down when you taste my coffee.”

You watch him from afar, taking in every detail of Minho as he worked. His perfect sculpted face caught in a look of concentration, his hands carefully but quickly moving around the various machines, and his arms, oh his arms straining and veins protruding while his hands went to work.

There was no doubt that Minho wasn’t attractive and if it wasn’t for his gold eyes, you were sure he’d be easy to crush on. But you knew better. Unlike some people, you wouldn’t fall for someone already taken. You wouldn’t ruin someone’s happiness like that. Not the way whoever she who took Changbin away did.

Minho caught your gaze a couple of times, giving you smiles in encouragement as he continued to work.

Finally putting a lid on the coffee with perfect slender fingers, he slid it over to you, calling your name in a way that caused you to shiver.

“See if it’s good enough for the high and mighty violinist.”

He went to cleaning the counters while he watched you blow threw the lid, trying to cool the hot liquid before taking a sip. As soon as the liquid touched your tongue, you gasped in shock and because fuck, it burned your tongue but fuck, it was delicious. You weren’t sure you had a cup of coffee so good in your life. Your eyes caught Minho as you noticed what seemed to be tattoos peeking out from underneath his quarter length sleeves. Oh my god he really was perfect, huh?

He had tattoos adorning his arms, just like Changbin. You shivered.

“That good?” He asked, eyes heavy with amusement.

Nodding, you gave him a wave, “Looks like you were right.”

Maybe you could be friends after all.

🎻

“Okay, you won’t believe this,” Minho said storming through the shop, “but I found the perfect sad song.”

Pursing your lips, you watched as he smacked the piece of paper down on the counter in front of you.

“Read it and weep,” he said tossing his head back and forth.

With a raised brow, you hummed the notes to yourself and while it wasn’t the saddest piece of music you’d played, it was pretty damn sad. You had to hand it to Minho because in a sea of happy and vibrant pieces of music, it could be difficult to find something depressing. Not many musicians chose to play as such. But you had because now your mom had been gone for five months and Changbin gone for two and things were just that; sad.

Had you gotten over Changbin?

No.

How could you?

He was your best friend before all else and losing a friend was hard enough. You wondered what he was doing, if he was happy and if she was making him feel loved. Selfishly, you wanted him to be miserable but for the sake of the person you loved, you hoped things were going well. You didn’t want him giving you up to be in vain even if you were miserable.

You’d almost give anything to see your eyes gold again even if you swore you’d gouge your eyes out. You just missed the bright shade when you looked in the mirror. You missed the way your eyes danced with happiness. It had been so long since you saw yourself happy without bag accentuated eyes.

What was happiness like?

The only joy you felt was seeing Minho and Lyn when you got your coffee and Gale when you went to your shift at the bookstore. Could that even be considered happiness though? You couldn’t even be happy when you spoke to your father because he was more broken than you were. You may have lost your mom and your best friend that was your soulmate but your dad lost the love of his life, his soulmate and his best friend all in one fail swope. And not only that but he lost her for good whereas you were sure the day would come when you would see Seo Changbin again and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing.

Some part of you wanted to see him and hoped he’d see everything he missed out on but the other part, couldn’t stand to see him again. He walked out on you. He could have held on because he knew you were loyal. You never tried to lure him towards you as he dated other people, you merely kept your distance and provided him with companionship that any friend would. You knew that trying to seduce him was crossing a line and you respected him. You respected the choices he made and put him being your best friend before being your soulmate.

If only he’d been as loyal to you as you were to him.

You wondered what your mother would have done to comfort you after Changbin left. You wondered what she would think about him falling in love with someone other than you. What advice would she give you?

Surely, you could confide in your dad but at the end of the day, he couldn’t be your mom. Mom’s comfort was always different than your dads. Besides, how could you lay your pathetic heart break on him when he was going through something so much bigger?

The closest thing you had to a friend was your damn baristas and your boss and neither of which you could confide in.

Which led you to Oliver, your dutiful violin that you’d had since Changbin gifted it to you in your sixteenth birthday. Something he’d saved up for, for more than a year. It was hard to play it knowing that he gave it to you but Oliver was all you had and you were yet to give him up. It’s not like you could afford a new violin anyway.

Everything else had been taken from you. Where else could you expend your energy in a healthy way?

So you continued to play him, even if it caused you more heartache than you could handle because he was all you had.

🎻

“Have you ever thought,” Minho mused, “of I don’t know, buying a coffee pot?”

You looked him dead in his liquid gold eyes, “Are you telling me you don’t want my business?”

He put his hands up in defense, “No, that’s not it. You just spend so much on coffee and sometimes you’re here twice a day. It may be a worthwhile investment.”

You raised a brow at him, “You gonna come make my coffee every time?”

He just smiled.

You sighed, “Okay, okay,” you mumbled and then dropped your voice an octave to make it quieter, “I don’t know how to make coffee.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to make coffee,” you spat. “I have a coffee machine but I just can’t do it right. My mom always made it for me.”

He put a hand on the counter and leaned towards you, “I know you’re probably on your own and wanting to be independent but you should ask her to teach you.”

“Ah,” you turned away, “She died a couple months ago.”

Minho put a hand up to his mouth, “Shit, I’m sorry,” it was the first time he cursed in front of you and you found yourself slightly shocked hearing the word slip past his perfect lips.

You shrugged, trying not to get teary eyed about all the things you missed getting from your mom before she died, “‘Sokay,” you responded. “That’s why I spend my hard earned money here. I need coffee to play and I have to play.”

He didn’t press any further, “I understand. I haven’t left my cello alone in months. I’ve wailed on Red so much these past few weeks that he’s covered in rosin.”

“Red?” You asked, happy for the subject change. “Is your cello cherry wood?”

“My little sister named him, okay? What’s your violins name?”

You licked your lips, “Oliver. My er, ex named him,” you said honestly. Ex may not have been the right word but how else could you call Changbin? Were you supposed to say “my soulmate best friend who also rejected me”?

His gold eyes seemed to probe you for more but you just smiled and asked him to make you a usual before the conversation could get any deeper.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” And as you grabbed the cup, your hand grazed his. Instantly you jolted away, feeling sparks ignite in your skin. Minho seemed to do the same.

You carefully nodded before slowly reaching for your coffee again, hoping whatever happened wouldn’t happen again.

That night, you stupidly tried to make yourself coffee and in the end when it came out overly strong and with a bite to it, you sat on the floor of your apartment crying. No matter how many times you’d tried to get it right, you could never make it like she did. The coffee addict who had raised a coffee addict mini-me, knew her way around a coffee pot. You hadn’t been so lucky. Even your dad didn’t make coffee the way she did. Whether in a coffee pot or French press, it always came out divine.

You made a mental note to look for a cheap French press when you could. Maybe that’d be easier?

If all else failed, you’d just continue to buy coffee upwards of three times a day if you had to. Thankfully the coffee Minho made was cheaper than the seasonal drinks you always got.

Times like this, alone and with tear stained cheeks, you really missed your mom.

But as she taught you, you took all your negative energy out on Oliver. She had been a violinist too and always wanted you to develop healthy coping mechanisms. When you cried, she’d force you to play. When you were angry, she’d force you to play.

Her forcing you to play may have been frustrating at first and making you cry or making you angrier but after several times, you got her point and you were sure to redirect every emotion you had.

So once again, there you were, crying and playing Oliver at two o’clock in the morning.

It was just past three when you made a visit to Minho, with still freshly wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes. For a moment, you thought it was good to see him but then that emotion passed as you realized, Minho didn’t care for you. He wasn’t a friend. You shouldn’t be happy to see him. His golden eyes reminded you that you needed to stay away.

Not only romantically but in any sense, you couldn’t stand to be around any more happy soulmates.

“Hey, I just saw you - woah. Hey are you okay?”

You avoided eye contact, “Totally good. Can you get me one of your specials, Minho?”

“Sure, sure,” he replied quickly, busying himself with making your coffee. You felt his eyes on you the whole time but you avoided his gaze. Last thing you needed to explain was how you’d been crying over not only your late mother but your ex best friend soulmate who rejected you.

Not that you’d explain it to him anyway.

“Y/N,” he called from where he was standing by a machine.

You dragged yourself over towards him, meeting his gaze just for a moment before looking away.

“Did you maybe want to have a jam session or something sometime?”

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dyinglightroleplay · 5 years

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𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

NAME : James Ahmad Potter RELATIONSHIP TO THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX : Member ( active - duty ) AGE / BIRTHDATE : 19 Years Old / born 27 March 1960 at 6:27am GMT ZODIAC SIGN : Aries ( sun ), Aries ( moon ), Aries ( rising ) EDUCATION : Hogwarts Graduate ( Gryffindor House ) BLOOD STATUS : Pureblood

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

✧ Ambrose Thomas ( platonic ) ✧ Marlene McKinnon ( antagonistic ) ✧ Caradoc Dearborn ( wild card ) ✧ Lily Evans ( fiancée )

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍.

Entering the Shrieking Shack following the Battle of Hogwarts. It is unknown if he was accompanied.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍.

PLAYER : Mod Rivka FACECLAIM : Fady Elsayed URL : @marautyr

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE

ZERO / RISING. * How is your character perceived by others? What mask do they wear, and is there more than one?

ARIES, TRIPLED. Beginnings, always, love or light or success or birth, a sharing of progress both inward and OUTWARD. Rising, it’s heart - magic : effusive affection, agape love, deep wells of empathy and compassion, boundless creativity and warmth, sunlight, a space made and a space kept / SUN RISES and turn inward, toward the everlasting conversation of a well - cultivated inner life full of opposites, intuition blocked by repression, emotion tempered by fear of rejection, pre - dawn or twilight, half - light, somewhere in - between. Always rendered as overflowing, Aries is more beginnings than endings ––––––– or perhaps even ONLY beginnings, in spite of the possibility for endings. They live in that moment, in the sunrise of opportunity, of love, of closeness, not quite caring about the eventual necessity of sundown.

At this level of blinding brightness, James is an easy person to misread, in a lot of ways : he can seem to be a relatively quick study, he can seem simple, he can seem one - dimensional in his loud, intrusive, high - flying way. ( James has never been able to not run toward the flames, the danger, the anger, the fear, the unknowable, the unknown : one day, they very well may rise up to meet him. ) And maybe that’s what everyone’s just telling themselves, now, that all this is bravery. Because all bravery is grown up out of foolishness, some way, isn’t it ? And it’s easy to write him off as moody, hot - headed, childish, impulsive, aggressive, particularly when it becomes as obvious as it seemingly does that he doesn’t care. And that’s what is so singular about James Potter : he is, largely, unremarkable except in his AUTHENTICITY. For better or worse, James doesn’t wear a mask, in fact he couldn’t even if it was required of him ; he’s a lover and a fighter, a man of emotions at volume regardless of their temperature, with his heart irrevocably attached to his sleeve. To those that don’t know him, this is easily misinterpreted --- --- or truly, just interpreted --- --- as overwhelming, obnoxious, invasive. If anything, the mask he wears is the subversion of others’ perception, it’s a dogged refusal to do anything but exist precisely how he means to, how he’d like to, regardless of expectation or consequence or outside judgement or input. What you see is what you get, and he is unbothered about whether or not you like it.

ONE / THE SUN. * Choose one to explore : what about their personality, general preferences, sense of self / ego, or fundamental traits attracted you to them?

I’ve always had a very specific Type ™ of character that pulls me in, and James dovetails right in there so easily ––––––– he’s a man of extremes, a character that’s easily reduced to two or three obvious traits ( especially by fandom ), but also one that carries so many layers that I’d love to peel away and explore. He’s brash, loud, egotistical, but all of that comes from a place of boyish authenticity, and it lies beside equal empathy, loyalty, and steadfastness, even if some of those manage to eclipse the others, especially when he was younger. He’s a polarizing figure ; he’s not necessarily easy to like, or easy to get to know, and he definitely makes enemies as easily as he makes friends. He’s been an unrepentant bully and an equally fiercely loyal friend. He’s determined at the same time he’s arrogant, he’s conceited, he’s passionate and reckless in equal measure.

( You can hardly discount James’ stubborn determination when it comes to his friends. After all, he did spend three years teaching himself to become an Animagus just so one of his closest friends wouldn’t have to feel alone. However, that’s not just stubbornness, and it’s not just some crazy disregard for rules. The root of James’ determination, always, is outward facing : he wants to take care of his own, he wants to make himself indispensable, he wants to shield people and stand in the gap. Yes, especially when he was younger, there was a major element of ‘ look at me ’ at play, but as James has gotten older, his determination hasn’t ever waned, but simply shifted. The young man who at twelve or thirteen was so determined to help is friend has become the young adult who is equally determined to fight Lord Voldemort, to expose his corruption, to track down Dark Wizards to his detriment. James’ determination is all-consuming ; he burns bright, and hot, and has no problem allowing himself to be consumed if he thinks the end result will be ultimately beneficial. )

Alongside, James’ arrogance is almost cartoonish. He’s cocky, self - assured in the extreme, and really, there’s little stopping him. All of this comes from a very deep desire to be needed, to be the best, to be the one at the center of everything ––––––– he was raised as the apple of his parents’ eyes, told that could do anything, be anything, and he holds that so close to his chest that it’s become compulsive, almost defensive. James doesn’t need approval from anyone to know that he’s good at what he does, or so he thinks, when in reality his own arrogance has built up as a way to ensure that he doesn’t. James is arrogant so that he doesn’t have to be needy ; if he can convince himself he’s the best, he doesn’t need to live or die by someone else’s opinion, or worry that it may not match his own. It’s a very self - fulfilling situation, and one he certainly needs to unlearn ( but likely won’t without a major event or loss to help him ).

Particularly now, involved in the Order, the duality of James’ passion but lack of focus will come under heavy scrutiny. To be blunt, James has spent the majority of his life relatively charmed ; he’s taken a million risks, but never had the bill come due, always managing to escape from punishment or consequences at the last moment. But there’s a marked difference between breaking Hogwarts rules to sneak out of unmarked passageways and fighting a war, and I don’t think the magnanimity of that difference has quite dawned on him, yet. He’s still riding very high on the thrill of the subterfuge, the excitement of War and of involvement in the Order, and he hasn’t yet really had a taste for the reality of it yet. Sure, the Battle will certainly give him a little perspective, but even that will likely do little to dispel his nearly lifelong belief in his own ability to bounce back from nearly everything ; to hear James tell it, he just has good luck. That will not always be the case. But he’s invested, he’s so passionate that he’ll let it consume him ––––––– the problem is, he won’t ever see the obvious pitfall until it’s too late.

All of these qualities --- --- and their existence inside duality --- --- is what drew me to James, is what keeps me fascinated with him.

TWO / THE MOON. * Which color would you associate most strongly with them and the emotions that dominate them? Describe however you’d like.

GOLD. The indestructible tomb of the Pharaohs, Ra appearing as a mountain of gold, the skin of the Gcds, wealth and security indescribable all bound up in one of the softest metals known to man. Something divine, ceremonial, certainly, but beautiful, playful, glimmering and winking in firelight --- --- Mamma’s musical bracelets and the ring on Lilah’s finger, the blazing - brilliance of a sunset seen as it sinks into the Mediterranean Sea --- --- warm, enveloping, unforgettable even behind closed eyes. The hottest heart of a flame, the snap of a gilded - scarlet banner, the elusive shimmer of the Snitch as it flirts its way across the pitch ; something that refuses to dull, but shows its wear, showing scratches and scrapes and buffed - out engraving as a past un - erasable.

THREE / MERCURY. * What is this character’s area of expertise? Where do they excel?

In school, James took to Transfiguration like a natural, because he was ––––––– he was one of the few Hogwarts students to excel in the subject so quickly that he was invited to attend more advanced lectures ahead of his year. However, much to his professor’s chagrin, James refused, choosing instead to keep behind so that he could continue studying alongside his friends. ( His increasing boredom became more evident in class disruptions, but once James found himself in pursuit of a new project — — a.k.a. animagus study — — his natural talent and studious nature took over once more. )

As illustrated by the creation of the Marauders’ Map, James also has an eidetic memory, put to use more for secret passages and pranks than much else, but an area of expertise all the same !

#marauders rp #first wizarding war rp #hp rp #harry potter rp #lsrp #james potter #takenm #taken #takenootp

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kusunogatari · 5 years

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[ @uchiha-madara ] 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩

It had been his fate, really, to fall in love with the sea.

It wasn’t enough that he was born and raised in the coastal city, home to their land’s busiest port. Or that his father, and his father’s father, had all sailed in the royal navy. Some claimed the Uchiha had saltwater in their veins rather than blood, so tied were they to the ocean. Since the founding of the country they sailed for, and the crowning of the Senju line, the Uchiha have been right beside them: their closest friends and allies. The military might to the divine right to rule.

Madara Uchiha was born a scant two months after the next crown prince, Hashirama...during the night of a battering winter squall. The sea had been boiling in the ports, thunder rumbling and lightning reaching across the pitch-black sky. His father Tajima liked to say that the sea knew its next king was born that night: the eldest of the five Uchiha sons. He who would conquer the waves and tame the winds.

For while the Senju were rulers of the land...it was the Uchiha who held dominion over the waters.

Madara grew fast, and every minute spared was spent learning his place. Be it playing on the beaches with his brothers, or accompanying his father on short sailing routes when only a boy, he was never far from the sea. He could climb rigging soon after he could walk. Talking was mastered only to learn to bark orders. Everywhere he turned, he was called, “lil cap’n”, as he felt was only right. He became the youngest ever to enroll in the naval academy...and the youngest to graduate with full honors. When he was scarcely sixteen, he was appointed to his first ship.

By twenty, he’d take his late father’s place as admiral of the entire royal navy. Over six hundred ships, and over forty thousand men were at the command of a genius - and admittedly ruthless - mind. For five brilliant and bloody years, Madara led the charge to expand not only the Senju-ruled kingdom’s trade routes, but its territories, colonies, and influence over the continent and beyond. Wars were waged and won. In his half decade at the helm, he claimed more victories and spoils than his father in the entirety of his career.

And his accomplishments did not go unnoticed.

...but nor did his methods.

There was no denying that the heir of the Uchiha was an unmatched tactician: not only armed, supplied, and populated beyond his enemies, but managing to plan and outwit as to minimize his own losses.

But the losses of the other sides were, as time went on, found to be too steep. Too cruel. Hashirama spoke to him on many an occasion, begging he rein in his bloodlust.

“What’s the purpose in conquering a people if there are no people left?!”

“We’ve people of our own. Send them out, make new colonies! You tasked me with expanding our borders, and I have done so. Better than any man before me!”

“You salt these new lands with hatred and disdain for our flag! If you continue to take beyond what is necessary, you’ll only incite uprisings.”

“Uprisings I will have little trouble crushing.”

“We cannot rule by fear and force alone, Madara.”

“That’s your lot, Hashirama. Not mine. Mine is to fight, and to win. By whatever means necessary.”

“That is my point - you go above and beyond what is necessary! From critical to cruel! If you cannot make these judgments more fairly, then I must -”

“Must what?” He turned to his childhood friend - the boy and man he’d grown alongside, planning their futures to be won together. Dark eyes seemed to burn with challenge. “You think you can remove me…? I have earned my place, with blood and with sweat. I’ll not be upended so easily, Hashirama. Those men are my men.”

“No, Madara…” Hashirama’s gaze was somber with realization...but also steely with resolve. “...they are mine.”

If there was one fault within him...it was Madara’s temper. When it burned, it blazed, and rational thought would fall to cinders in its wake. So, Hashirama thought he could take all he’d built? Been born and bred for? No...this navy, this armada, was his and his alone.

...or so he thought.

That night, he gathered his highest ranking officers. Spun a tale of spurn and betrayal. Invited them to rise up against the Senju who dared try to yoke them.

But for many...his rousing speech fell on deaf ears.

Most - even Uchiha among them - turned their backs on him in favor of their king.

They say it was then he finally snapped.

Embittered, he’d taken what few remained - enough for a crew - and boarded his helmship: a beautiful frigate of lacquered granadillo wood. A stunning red in color with dark hickory accents, it was peerless. Strong but swift, loaded with thirty cannons, a heavy battering ram, and midnight sails, it had been a symbol of death and bloodshed at the fore of his armada since his ascension to admiral.

And now...it would be so on its own.

In the dead of night, with a favorable wind Madara claimed was divine, they left the ports behind, knowing full well their treachery would earn them a new name.

Pirates.

It was with a heavy heart Hashirama watched the ship abandon the harbor from his castle windows. “...I’ll give you this night,” he murmured to no one. “But come daylight, Madara...all you’ve left behind will be reclaimed. Your ties are cut. Cling to your ocean...for the lands you’ve forsaken will no longer house you.

“Step again on my shores...and you’ll be brought to make amends for your crimes. Your barbarity...and your betrayal.”

And so, Madara migrated from the most renowned commander of the royal navy...to the most feared and ruthless pirate on the seas. The trade routes he’d fought to clean of those now his kin were retaken: plundered at every opportunity. Should a ship bear his country’s banner, he’d pursue it to the horizon until it was looted and sunk. Some might call such actions petty...but for Madara, they were simple repayment for all Hashirama had robbed him of. If the ships of the Senju port were no longer his to command...they were his to take.

He’d make Hashirama regret his decision...and there would be no recompense. No amends. The Senju king had made his bed, and now he could lie in it.

One did not cross Madara Uchiha without begetting a grudge that could - and would - outlast empires.

And that was exactly what he planned to do.

...but the fates have other ideas.

Standing at the wheel, feeling a warm breeze at his back, Madara looks out over the decks. His crew - nearly two hundred and fifty men - are all in sound shape. They’ve only just left a pirate-held port, fresh from a two week reprieve from the sea. Their supplies are restocked, their spirits high, and their goals on the horizon.

He’s gotten word of a large convoy of Hashirama’s ships heading through...but taking what they believe will be a less noticeable route.

Hashirama, however, underestimates Madara’s mastery of the area. There’s not a cove or a beach he doesn’t know. If they think they can outsmart him...they’re very much mistaken.

And now, it will cost his old friend dearly.

...there’s only one thing standing in his way.

As they approach the series of islands the Senju ships are rumored to try hiding amongst, dark clouds gather at the fore. His plan - to lie low in an inlet before streaking in from behind - might get a bit...wet.

“Cap’n,” his first mate murmurs, stepping up with a bowed head of respect. “Perhaps t’ain’t my place t’say, but...I’ve no love for those clouds. They bring a rattlin’ in me bones that warns a’trouble.”

“This ship’s handled its fair number of squalls,” is Madara’s rumbling rebuke, hold steady on the wheel. “I’d gladly stand a bit of rain and wind for whatever lies in the hulls of those ships.”

“A-and I agree, cap’n! T’ain’t no better vessel than yers,” his companion admits, bobbing in apologetic bows. “But the achin’ in me joints tells me this storm’s a leap above t’rest. Perhaps we can...chart a course t’intercept the Senju convoy further down the line…? Out a’ the path o’the storm?”

Dark eyes give a cool glance, earning a flinch. “These islands serve as good cover, and the tide is favorable. Those fat ships won’t have our maneuverability, loaded with their cargo. We’ll dance circles around them until they run themselves aground. Then, they’ll be ripe for the taking. We’ll barely have to lift a finger.”

“...aye, cap’n.”

Looking back to his route, a haughty grin curls the former admiral’s lips. Oh, he’s going to enjoy this...and what’s a plundering without a bit of boiling in the ocean? Surely she’ll be glad to be fed all the fools he’ll throw overboard. Then she’ll calm.

She always does.

On they sail, weaving their way between the group of islands until finding the cove Madara’s had in mind. Dropping anchor, they face out toward the route their informant described. Here they’ll bide their time.

Not long after they tuck away, the wind begins to pick up, fat drops of rain shattering atop the decks and soaking the sails.

Ever patient when he needs to be...Madara waits.

It’s just dusk when a ship’s prow passes their hiding place. By now, the wind’s are whipping, swirling and knocking the rain any direction it feels.

“Steady,” Madara commands to those awaiting to lift the anchor. “Steady…”

A dozen ships pass by, utterly unaware. Half are the galleons carrying the cargo, two small gunships, and four brigs.

Child’s play.

Only once he’s sure they’re all past does Madara signal for the anchor to be raised. The tide’s lowering, leaving the narrow strips of sea between the isles shallow. One wrong move, and those swollen ships will be run ashore until it raises again.

Plenty of time to board and loot them. And with so little space to maneuver, their protection won’t have a chance to turn around to defend.

“NOW!”

With the anchor aweigh, the winds swiftly carry them from the cove, sails taut as they quickly build momentum. Below on the gun deck, canons await to be fired. Streaking out past the rear gunboat, they cut in front, dropping lit barrels of powder. As soon as the hull connects, the barrels explode, wreaking havoc and letting seawater through a gaping hole in the hull.

Alarms then sound as the convoy becomes aware, but there’s little to be done. Trapped between the isles, there’s nowhere to go but forward.

Gaining on one of the brigs, Madara commands they fire, cannonballs tearing through the broadside. The return fire is delayed, the enemy ship unprepared for combat. As his own crew reloads, Madara makes to cut to the other brig. A few of its cannons, loaded quickly, fire prematurely, skirting before the bow. Disorder in the chaos only works to his advantage. Cutting cleanly between the ships, another round is shot, this time from both sides, nailing both rear defense vessels.

The former begins to lag, heavily damaged. The latter, however, is hit with a shot to their powder room. A huge portion of the ship blows out, and water quickly begins to claim the ship. That’s two of the brigs down, and the rest are out in front. That leaves the large cargo ships exposed between Madara and any hope of defense. While they might have a few canons, most will have been spared to allow more weight in their holds.

A feral grin overtakes Madara’s face. This...this is what he lives for!

Out beyond, one brig attempts to turn between two islands, clearly trying to circle back around to come up behind them. But they misjudge the tide, running atop a sandbar and beaching as the high winds carry them far along the shelf.

They won’t be going anywhere for a good while.

In the same breath, two of the cargo vessels simply give in, beaching themselves against a left hand isle. The other four keep going, but it’s clear that with their limited canons, and only one remaining brig to defend them beyond the tiny gunboat at the helm, there’s little chance of outwitting or outgunning a ship like Madara’s.

“Hold on, lads!”

Streaking up to the galleons, Madara orders high fire. Masts crumple as cannonballs shatter the wood, leaving the huge ships stagnant in the water without a way to propel. Three of them he cripples before moving to the last brig. The final cargo vessel attempts to get ahead, and he leaves it for now.

Fire exchanges between them, Madara’s larger cannon volleys making quick work of his enemy. The gunboat, realizing it’s outmatched, simply beaches to the right.

But the last cargo ship is determined.

Leaving the rest of its armada behind, it attempts to make it out into open sea.

“Oh no you don’t -!” the Uchiha growls.

“Cap’n! Should we not return and loot what we’ve got? It’s a clear cut now!” the first mate calls over the squalls.

“I’ll be damned before I let one of Hashirama’s ships get away from me!” is the shouted reply. There’s a red glint of fervid revenge in Madara’s eyes. It’s all or nothing...anything less, and he might as well have attained no victory at all.

His pride won’t stand for it.

Forward they plunge through the growing waves, the storm nearly fully upon them. The wheel fights his grip every moment, the tides tearing at the rudder. Rain so thick he can hardly see the ship before him is mopped from his face, drenched into his hair and clothes until he feels he’s gained his weight over.

“Cap’n! The storm, it’s too much!”

“To Hell with the storm!” He’ll not come this far and give up. He’d rather die…!

They make it out of the cluster of islands, and then the weather truly hits them full force. Waves several stories tall, no longer inhibited by the land masses, toss them about like a leaf. Again and again they crest over the deck, sweeping anything not hammered down about and overboard.

He can hear the cries of his men, but they go unacknowledged. The hunt is on, he’s in too deep - there’s nothing beyond death stopping him now -!

Buffeted by a wave, the ship suddenly janks to one side. Thrown from the wheel, Madara lands with a heavy thump against the railing. Both gravity and water pin him down, the whole ship tilting as it’s swept up another wave. He can’t quite regain his feet…!

Reaching the apex, the crest crashes down atop the decks. Pinned to the railing, his body screams in protest at the weight of the water, unable to breathe, and then -

The wood gives out, and he plummets off the side, smashing into the sea with a clap. The weight of his garments drags him all the further, limbs fighting to break the surface. As he does, he sees the ship streaking forward, still propelled by its sails through the gusts.

In a matter of moments, it’s left him far behind.

Around him, debris from the deck either floats or sinks, and he manages to cling to a bobbing barrel. By now, they’re miles from the islands, and he hardly has a hope to swim back...especially not with the storm dogging him.

For the first time in his life...Madara fears the sea.

The waves batter and bruise him, throwing him about before parting him from his float. Struggling to find something, anything to hold on to, he finds a slat of wood. It dips under his weight, but once maneuvered, manages to hold him. Fingers make a white-knuckle grip along its edges, and Madara tucks his face against it from the pounding rain.

Eventually, the exertion is too much...and everything goes black.

When next he wakes, Madara feels a groggy confusion, but...why?

...then it hits him. He’s no longer swaying and sweeping atop water. He’s still.

Cracking open his eyes, he stares up into...leaves? What…?

Beneath him is something soft. Movement earns a rustle, and he sits up with great effort and a grunt. He’s in...some kind of strange hut. Perhaps ten paces across, circular, and with a sandy floor, it’s simply open along one side, giving a view out toward a beach.

Where...where is he?

It’s then he notices he’s been...redressed? His own garments hang nearby, drying, and he’s instead in simple trousers and a shirt, both dry. Likely the only reason he hasn’t caught his death. Feet bare, he swings them over the edge of his cot and looks around. A myriad of chests litter the hut, all overstuffed with seemingly random belongings.

His legs wobble as he stands, but he fights through it, stepping to the doorless doorway. Out beyond is a large fire pit, rigged for cooking. The whole thing sits back in a small inlet of trees and large rocks, protected from the wind. Surely the only way such a structure survived the storm.

The storm…!

All over again, Madara’s knees go weak. His ship...did the crew survive? Did they regain control? Or was all lost? And where the devil is he? Can he even begin to return?

...is there anything for him to return to…?

Without a ship, he’s a captain no more. Sure, he has his stash of gold and trinkets, but no way to retrieve them. And he can’t know if any of his crew - the only people he trusts - have survived.

A hand drags down his face, taking a deep breath. No...he can’t panic. He’s alive. Start there.

And someone clearly rescued him. He hardly hauled himself out of the depths and into a bed. Even if he washed up on shore, he has no memory of making his way here.

Someone else is here...but where?

The beach is too muddled to look for tracks, and he’s unfamiliar with the place - he hardly wants to get lost. Stepping out a few paces, he gives the view a once-over before he just so happens to find what he’s looking for.

Someone’s walking back down the beach toward him. A woman in a flowing skirt and strange, twisted top that encircles her chest, midriff bare. Against her hip is a wide basket. Like him, she wears no shoes.

But most shocking is the wild white waves of her hair - like a tangle of seafoam along her scalp, carried askew by the breeze.

Noticing him, there’s a pause in her strides before closing the cap. “...you’re awake,” is her soft offering, barely above a whisper.

“...aye,” he replies. “Are you...did I…?”

“Come, sit. I will explain.”

In her woven basket is a plethora of fruits, several fish, and greens. As Madara sits atop a stone near the firepit, she goes about sorting and preparing it.

“I found you in the waters just offshore,” she begins, skewering the fish with practiced ease. “Dragged you here...you’re quite heavy.”

The comment earns an amused snort, but no reply.

“You were soaked through, so I stripped you. You’d have gotten ill otherwise...I’m surprised you didn’t. A bit of a fever was all - you slept three days.”

Three days…? No wonder he feels so...off.

“And now...here you are.” Flint sparks dry vegetation, gradually fed wood. Finally glancing up to him, she shows mirror-like silvers, framed by white brows and lashes. He’s never seen anyone with such an appearance.

“Was...was there anyone else?”

“No...only you. You were in the storm…?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate - Madara’s not in the mood to tell such a story.

“...I see.”

“Where are we?”

“A small isle with no name...it is among the cluster here in the south sea. No one comes here...there’s nothing to be gained.”

“You live here…?”

“...when I must.”

Dark brows furrow. What does that mean…?

“Hungry?”

“...starved,” he admits. Already the smells of the fruits she’s cutting are making his stomach do eager circles. “...may I have your name?”

“Ryū,” she replies without hesitation. He’ll take that as a truth, then. “You?”

“...Madara. Madara Uchiha.”

Despite his notoriety, there’s no recognition at his offer. She just keeps going, handing him a crude bowl with the fruit. Then back to peeling and whittling she goes with a strange-looking knife, hands quick and clean.

As starving as he is, Madara makes himself take his time. “...do you have a...boat, or a ship?”

“No.”

The blunt reply earns a blink. “Does...someone come ‘round?”

“No.”

“...then how do you ever leave? You said you only live here when you must. How do you…?”

“I swim.”

“You swim…?”

Checking the fish, Ryū turns them before looking to him again, studying his face. “...you want to leave?”

“Of course. I’ve a life to return to. I have to see if my ship…” He fades out, not wanting to address the possibility of it being lost.

“...you rest first. Then I’ll take you.”

“You just said you have no ship.”

“I don’t need a ship. I told you...I swim.”

“That’s not -” He’s silenced as she holds out a skewer, snatching it and looking to her suspiciously. “...what are you…?”

At his question, she stops mid-bite, considering him before giving him a smile.

Her teeth are...are…!

“You never know what you’ll find lurking in the ocean,” she replies airily before finally taking her bite of fish.

Staring, Madara completely forgets his own. No...that can’t be...but…?

“...mermaid…?” he dares to whisper.

“Mm,” she hums in affirmative reply. “Hence only being here when I have to be. You’d be surprised how many humans end up lost in these waters. So...I haul them out. Bring them here. Then let them go.” Another bite. “I stay until they’re strong again. Then I head back out into the waters.”

“How...how has no one -?”

“Found me? Told of me? Anyone who’s been washed up is already believed to be mad from the sea. No one believes a washed-up man’s tales about a mermaid saving his life.”

“...why do you do it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A pause, considering his food. A few bites pass before he asks, “Are there others?”

“Yes. But I stay alone. Most of my kind are not...fond of your kind. But I find you curious. None have tried to hurt me yet.” A pause. “...though I don’t fully trust you.”

“Probably wise,” Madara replies dryly. Lost in his thoughts, he finishes his food in silence.

“Here.”

Looking up, he sees her offer a waterskin. It’s then he realized how long it’s been since he’s had fresh water. “...so, how long before I can leave?”

“A few days. You were quite weak - you’ll have to build up some strength, first. Then I’ll take you to the next island. There’s a town there - you can find your way from the port.”

“Ah...that might not be wise.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know who holds this port?”

The mermaid blinks. “...no. Why?”

“Well...I’m rather notorious among humans. I might not be welcomed.”

Something lights her eyes for a moment - understanding, perhaps? “Then...where do you wish to go?”

“Do you know the port of Isla Verde? I’d be safe there.”

She thinks. “...that...is a great many miles from here. It would take many, many days to get there.”

“But...you could take me?”

“Mm...maybe. But what would you give me in return?”

“I have gold. Lots of it. Just need a way back to it.”

A hand waves. “I care not for gold. All I need, I have in the sea. Besides, I collect many things from it you humans lose. Where do you think I got your garments?”

“Then what could you want, if you have all you need?”

A thoughtful hum. “...I shall choose when we arrive. For now, I must think.”

“All right, fair enough.”

“And you must rest. Regain your strength. Here we’ll stay a few days more. Now...I must go hunt.”

“We just ate.”

“And hunting takes time. Stay, rest, eat. I’ll be back.”

Watching her go, Madara sees her step into the tide. Up to her waist she walks, stopping at an outcropping of stone. She pulls aside her garment, tying the fabric in place before sinking.

She disappears.

But then, with a leap, she breaches the surface, hopping out before diving into deeper waters. Rather than like a fish, from her hips extends a tail more like a dolphin’s: white, like her locks.

He just stares, still wondering if he’s actually dead, and this is all just some strange purgatory dream.

After a time, he grows restless, walking along the beach in one direction. The island is, indeed, rather small - it takes him all of an hour to come back around. Sand encircles the entire perimeter, a large rocky outcropping jutting from the center. Palms and other fruit-bearing trees pepper the isle, grasses and ferns growing more densely the further in you wander. A spring bubbles from a clearing, running clear and smooth. Taking a break to drink, Madara reclines under a palm tree, staring up through the leaves.

It’s like a tiny little paradise.

Were he a simpler man, he might entertain the idea of just...staying. There’s water, shelter, food...and the island itself is rather gorgeous.

Though it also hosts rather...strange company.

He’s not sure what to make of his savior. She seems pleasant enough. But to think that such a creature is truly real. Not just some fable of the sea.

It makes him wonder what else is possibly lurking in the dark depths of the waters he loves so ardently.

But, either way, he can’t stay. Not with the stirring that still pulls at his soul. That which longs for conquest and adventure, excitement and experiences! If he knows anything about himself, it’s that he’ll quickly grow bored of this place. Beautiful it may be, but...stagnant. Unchanging.

Too...peaceful. Peace is to be idle.

And to be idle is to go mad.

Returning to the inlet of the hut, he realizes that his companion has returned. Still transformed, she lies on her belly atop the rock, propped atop her elbows and staring out into the horizon. Idly the fin of her tail flicks up water over the smooth skin, sun reflecting off the pale white flesh.

Stepping up into the water to his ankles, Madara makes to call to her, but...stops as he hears something.

...singing…?

In a haunting minor key, without words, the mermaid croons into the breeze. Parts are reminiscent of shanties he knows, but...sadder. More mournful than cheery as meant to keep up the spirits of the crew.

It sounds...incredibly lonely.

“I stay alone. Most of my kind are not...fond of your kind. But I find you curious.”

Is that the whole truth? Or is there something she’s not told him?

Wading out a bit deeper, the sea lapping at the hems of his trousers, he waits for a lull in the song. “Serenading the gulls?”

Over her shoulder she glances to him. Her tie-on skirt is still hanging along the rocks, her strange top drying around her chest. Beside her, a net of crustaceans and fish is tied in the tide. “I like to sing. A pleasant way to pass the time.”

“Why don’t you just go home?”

“...home?”

“Back to...wherever you came from?”

Something shifts in her expression. “...I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I am...not welcome.”

That earns a frown. “Whyever not?”

“I’m a danger.”

Madara can’t help a scoff. “You? Dangerous?”

“...my color is a threat. Wherever I go, I’m easily spotted. If I stay with the others...I bring them attention. Put them in danger. So...no, I can’t go back where I came from.” Her gaze returns to the sea. “...I was cast out. For the good of the others.”

He’s...not sure what to say to that. It makes sense. Something so brightly-colored - so different than the tones of the ocean - would stand out. “...is that why you approach humans? Because you’re alone?”

For a moment, she doesn’t answer. “...you always leave, in the end.”

“You could come with me.”

Again she turns to him, expression sharp, as though both troubled - and yet intrigued - by his offer. “...why?”

“If you’re tired of people leaving, find people you can stay with. True, this isle is amazing. A little utopia among the waves. But few are so content to remain in one place too long. Keep a man someplace he cannot leave of his own will, and no matter how you cater it to him...it will be a prison all the same.”

Something in her expression falls. “I...did not see it that way. I have the freedom of the sea...I never thought…”

“So, come with me.”

“I cannot stay with humans. The sea always calls to me. I cannot stay away forever.”

“You don’t have to. I sail! I’m rarely far from the water. We stop and explore isles, conquer other ships, visit harbors...”

“But you don’t know if your ship still sails. If your crew still lives.”

“I told you, I’ve gold. I just need to get to it. Another ship can be bought. Another crew can be found.”

“...why do you insist I go with you?”

“You saved my life. Perhaps I could change yours.” His arms open in a gesture of offering. “...maybe that could be my payment to you.”

The mermaid considers him, expression unreadable. “...I will...consider it.”

“That’s all I can ask. Besides...you may be right. I need more time to rest. Then...we can hit the open waters. Make up our minds.”

Her lips lift just a hair. “...you travel far? On your...ship?”

“Wherever I please. There’s much of the ocean to explore, and I’ve seen a great many places already. I answer to no man but myself. We could go anywhere you wanted.”

A wistful look colors her eyes. “...perhaps that would be...pleasant.”

“There’s nothing like it.”

A more genuine smile curls her mouth before looking to the horizon. “...we’ll see what we feel in a few days. You may yet change your mind.”

“And so may you.”

The conversation trails to silence, so Madara retreats up the beach and back to the hut. In truth, he’s still exhausted. His limbs feel heavy, and his mind slow. Nearly drowning, as it so happens, leaves one a bit tuckered. So, for now, he heaves himself back upon the cot, plans and what-ifs soon melding into dreams.

.oOo.

AHHH IT’S FINALLY HERE! I’ve been prepping for this event for weeks xD Really hoping it does well! Anywho, I’ve written a pirate!verse MadaRyū before...but that was with a human!Ryū. Madara’s pretty much the same in both stories, as is the verse background, but I decided to make Ryū a mermaid for this one, cuz...why not? Especially since I technically wrote it in May...Mermay, right? lol For anyone unfamiliar, I’ve written this ship (mostly in canon and modern verses) with Phoenix for a good long while now! I love their dynamic no matter what universe we write them in. And given I had that random fic of this verse before, I thought they’d fit best in it again! Phoenix, if you see this (which golly I hope you do lol), thank you for writing all your beans with me, and letting bonds grow between our muses. It’s always a pleasure writing with you, and I hope to again soon, no matter what verse we end up in! <3 Anyway, I don’t want to carry on for too long - happy OC x Canon ship week, everybody!

#narutoocxcanonshipweek #noxcsw #uchihamadara #uchiha madara #suigin ryū #blue waves and black flags [ au ]

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01/05/2017 DAB Transcript

Genesis 11:1-13:4 ~ Matthew 5:1-12 ~ Psalm 5:1-12 ~ Proverbs 1:24-28

Today is January 5th. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It is awesome to be here with you today from the rolling hills of Tennessee and I pray wherever you are on this big blue earth that God has given us to live in or on or both, that you are doing well and that you are kind of beginning to get into the rhythm of this fresh start known as the new year. We are certainly getting off to a good start to this year in the scriptures and we’ll continue with that rhythm now. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week and picking up where we left off in the book of Genesis. Yesterday we learned of this great flood and now we enter into the territory that happens after. Genesis chapter 11, verse 1 through 13, verse 4 today.

Commentary

Alright, so there are a number of things to point out in today's reading to bring some context and to fill in the story that we’ve traveled so far in just the first few days of the year. So we read about the Tower of Babel today. That is a famous story. I grew up in church so I’ve been hearing the story of the Tower of Babel since Sunday School and maybe you have too, or maybe this is the first time you’ve ever heard of it. Either way, it's a famous story in the Bible.

There are a couple of ways to read this story and one of them introduces this first uptight, angry, spiteful God, then there are other stories that we will come to that seem to indicate this judging, vengeful God and God gets this reputation, this Old Testament reputation that is fascinatingly and completely incorrect that has been perpetuated for a long, long time.

We see in the story of Babel God comes down, sees what the people are going to do. They are going to build this big tower. It is going to go up into the sky. And God says, ‘we can’t let this happen. If we let this happen, then nothing they set out to do will be impossible for them.’ So it's easy enough to go ‘what's God so uptight about here? What's the big deal?’ The big deal is the ‘impossible for them’ part.

Let's go back a couple of days, back to Genesis chapter 3, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil which we’ve already covered, the whole breach and breaking of trust that happened, the separation of divinity from humanity that happened, this chasm that was not bridgeable. So we go through all that and the slide downward of man that becomes so evil that a flood overtakes the world and a reset is done. Now we’re on the other side of that. People are repopulating the earth and the same kind of thing is happening. This tower can’t be built for the same reason that people can’t continue to eat from the tree of life. Humanity and divinity have been separated from their ordinary, normal, natural created state, which is intertwined.

So God banished humanity from the tree of life in the Garden of Eden because of this trade that was made. This perfect intimacy with God was traded for the knowledge of good and evil. Then mankind tried to use the knowledge to understand and control God and then to become his own god. We see this playing out in Babel again. So when God says ‘the people are united and they speak the same language and after this nothing they set out to do will be impossible for them,’ it's just echoes of Eden. Echoes of the tree of life.

We can look at God as this spiteful, jilted person who is vengeful and is on a power trip or we can see it for what it is, a counterintuitive rescue and saving of all things, because humanity separated from divinity altogether is not humanity as it was created to be. Separated from divinity, separated from God, it will only do what it has always done, continue to slide into inhumanity, subhumanity and will only perpetuate its own total annihilation. All you have to do is look around even today. These thousands and thousands of years later all you have to do is look around and see that the possibility of complete annihilation is ever-present.

What the Bible will teach us later is that nothing is impossible with God. Our attempts to make nothing impossible without God will not work. We were not made that way. That is not how life works. So God confuses the whole mess and disperses people throughout the earth. He has larger plans of redemption for a later time.

We could stop there because there is plenty to think about there because it begins to shift our own assumptions about God and his work or his counterintuitive work or his disruptive work in our lives and the places that we go in our heads, in our hearts, the assumptions that we make that ultimately estrange us from God. So there is plenty to think about there, but we also meet a very, very important person in today's reading and his name is Abram. He is going to have a name change pretty soon and be a very central figure in the story of the Bible and in the story of the world we live in right now.

We went through some genealogical territory today and you can feel like that is tedious at times, but we’ll get to that later. We read through some genealogical things today leading us to Abram and he is in Ur of the Chaldeans. This is modern day Iraq. He is a nomadic kind of person similar to the modern day Bedouins of the desert. He is a desert person who ends up coming into the land of the Canaanites. He comes to this place called Shechem which is a very ancient city and the city still exists today in modern day Israel. It is now known as Nabulus. But this city is going to keep recurring. It is going to keep coming up. Some of the most pivotal things in all of the Bible happened in and around Shechem and today is one of them because God comes to Abram and tells him near Shechem ‘all of this land I'm giving to you. I will make a nation out of you and you will bless the people of the earth.’

Now Shechem is not desert country and Abram continues to move southward. You can easily Google a map of Israel and the Middle East and kind of see this whole trajectory, but he moves south to Bethel where he makes an altar. Bethel will also become an important landmark as we move forward. And then he moves even further south toward the Negev, another desert, something a little more arid, something that he is accustomed to. But famine is in the land and so he has to go to Egypt where this whole episode happens of Abram telling his wife Sarai to claim that she is his sister. It's amazing because she is obviously unspeakably beautiful, of biblical proportions because the Bible says so. She is gorgeous. She also happens to be 75 years old’ish which can feel like a little bit of a contradiction because you don’t usually think of a person 75 years old as being completely, unspeakably hot. As we’re reading in the book of Genesis, people had longer lifespans closer to the beginning when there was less pollution and population, so we read of people not really beginning their families until after the first 100 years. So this is what we find with Abram and Sarai.

Sarai is taken into the harem of the Pharaoh only to be given back to Abram and he is enriched with many things. Many of the gifts that the Pharaoh gave him made him wealthy, rich, and fortified. So when they leave Egypt, and I mean this is a pathway that the ancestors of Abram are going to follow, back toward Bethel, this man Abram has followed a God that he has just recently met, gotten a promise from this God, and has been fortified and enriched by partially plundering Egypt. This will happen again by the ancestors of Abram. This little trick of Sarai posing as Abram's sister, this trick will happen again as well, but we’ll save that for another day.

Then in the New Testament we move into Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, which is really his central teaching, but we’ll be covering this territory, so we’ll save that for another day.

Prayer

Father, thank you for your word. What a gift. Our hearts come alive within us as we hear the stories of our spiritual ancestry, how it is that we got from there to here and things begin to fill in and all of a sudden we see ourselves in these stories and we realize every fork in the road is a choice that is leading somewhere, even the small decisions that we make are choices that are going somewhere. Your word helps us to be awake and aware of those decisions and it makes us awake and aware of your presence in all of it. So come, Holy Spirit. Plant these words deep in our lives, in our souls. May our hearts be fertile soil that the fruit of the Spirit may grow in us. Come, Jesus, we pray. In your name we ask. Amen.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at www.DailyAudioBible.com as well. There is a link on the home page. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible App, you can push the More button in the lower right-hand corner. Or if you prefer, the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996, Spring Hill, TN 37174.

And, as always, we are a community here and we pray for each other really well around here. If you have a prayer request or comment, there are a number of numbers that you can use, depending on where you are in the world and really I think you can use these numbers no matter where you are in the world if you just happen to not want to call the number closest to you. Either way, if you're in the Americas, (877) 942-4253 is the number to call. If you are in the UK or Europe: 44, 20-3608-8078 is the number. And if you are in Australia or the lands down under: 61, 3-8820-5459 is the number to call.

And that is it for today. I'm Brian. I love you and I’ll be waiting for you here, right here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Requests and Praise Reports

Hey Dabbers, this is Slave of Jesus. Alright, Holy Spirit, let's roll. This is for all of us but this is really focusing on the new Dabbers that are joining us probably after the first of the year and those that came in the middle of last year. They’re psyched. They’re ready to do this thing and do it every year. So I'm in military intelligence and it's my job to tell the commander what the enemy is going to do, so I'm going to tell you all what the enemy is going to do in your lives if you try to get through a year with the DAB. You need to have a plan. You need to have a plan. You can have a great plan, but you need to have what they call a Plan B. Because you might be saying ‘okay, I'm going to go ahead and do this every single night right before I go to bed.’ After a few months the enemy is not going to like you listening to the Bible every day. He's going to do something to mess up your night, whether it's you have a new class you have to take or something like that. You gotta have a Plan B. Maybe that Plan B is you have to set your alarm a half hour earlier than you normally get up to do that. I don’t know what it is, but you’ve got to start thinking about this. You have to start thinking about if you call into the DAB and you don’t hear your call and the enemy gets in your head to tries to say ‘hey, you don’t need this community anymore.’ You need to have a plan that you’re going to fight through that. You're going to post something to Facebook, maybe somebody is going to say something that offends you, you need to get a plan out there right now so that you can fight your way through this. Be prepared. The Bible says that the enemy prowls like a lion. That is what he's doing. He's going to go out there for all of us who lightly planted seeds that just don’t have big roots and you’re all excited, but as soon as that storm comes it rips it all out. That is what he wants to do. If you fight through that, if you get through a year, you get through two years, you start to say the Daily Prayer out loud, start learning scripture, you become a powerful warrior, but you gotta have a plan to fight through that so when that enemy comes at you, you’re ready. So that's just a little warning for all of you out there. Don’t be afraid. The enemy is defeated. Scripture beats him every single time just like Jesus did, but start to have a plan now so you can get through it when you face it in real life. Love you all. Have a great day.

Hey there DAB family. This is Julie from Louisiana. Many of you have called in over the holidays because you're lonely and so I just wanted to say a prayer for you. Lord, I just lift up every person who is heartbroken right now, who is struggling through the holidays, who feels alone. Lord, I just pray you’d wrap your arms around them right now and I pray that they would feel your peace and they would feel your love and they would feel your joy and, Lord, they would know that you became one of us so that you could be with us. So we’re thankful, Father, for you touching them right now. I just wanted to challenge everybody and especially if you're lonely, I want to challenge you to do something I did last year. You know in 2015 I found the DAB and I listened to it all year by myself and it was so awesome that I just wanted everybody I knew to go through it with me. And so last January, my husband and I started a small group at our church for anybody who wanted to go through the Bible in a year. And we had about 15 people that signed up. And so what we would do is each of us would listen on our own every day and we might take notes on what we heard or we might write down any questions that we had and then one night a week we would get together and we would discuss what we had heard and what we learned and talk about questions that we had. It had to be the best small group that I’ve ever been part of in my life. In fact, this New Year's Eve we’re all going to get together and we’re going to listen to the very last podcast of the year together as a group and then we’re going to have a party to celebrate that we’ve gone through the whole Bible together with each other. I want to encourage you to begin your own small group in 2017 and go through the Bible with your friends. If you have any questions about how to launch a small group, you can shoot me an email. I’d love to hear from you. My email address is [email protected]. I'm praying that lots of groups spring up in 2017. Love and blessings from Louisiana.

Good morning DAB. This is Sandy in New Hampshire. I wanted to say Brian, thank you so much, and actually China and Jill and everyone else. I love the way Brian says ‘I love you. I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow.’ You know sometimes when we’re going through hard times, just knowing that somebody else is going to be there is awesome, so I want to thank you for that. I want to thank you for the sacrifices that you guys make personally, professionally and with your family, so I pray that God will bless you for that. Thank you for your faithfulness in serving God through serving others, selflessly serving and encouraging every day, loving through serving. I would like to pray for our family this year, for the whole DAB family, to have abundance, restoration, strength, resilience, depth, healing in relationships, health, marriages, families, siblings, serving opportunities. I ask that we would see Jesus’ reflection and feel his arms holding us, that we would see his smile through others smiling. I pray that we would see others beside us and that we would love through serving alongside others that are serving the Lord, that we would join hands with those who are serving, that God would use us to be a light in dark places. I just want to thank you and I pray that God will bless you. In Jesus’ name.

Hi brothers and sisters from the Daily Audio Bible family. This is Washed in the Blood of the Lamb from Perth, Western Australia. Today's date is the 29th of December, 2016, and it's not really a prayer today, but this is more just a word. This is called Anchors for Our Souls. In Hebrew 6:19 it talks about an anchor of hope, having our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ as an anchor of hope. Sometimes in life we have tempestuous storms. We have trials and tribulations and we can wax cold and grow cold and be hot and cold in this Christian relationship. So sometimes we need anchors for our souls. So in Hebrews 6:19 it talks of an anchor of hope and it also says in Romans 15:13 that God is our hope. He is the hope. Psalm 42:5 is to hope in God. Sometimes we need to have an anchor of duty to a church or a duty in which we’re doing things that God has asked us to do, whether that is to be street preaching, evangelizing, doing outreach programs, feeding the homeless, just things that will anchor our souls to the duty of working for God. Another one is an anchor of prayer which is what we do here. We pray and we bring our prayers and supplications to the throne room of grace. And last but not least is the anchor of love, to know that God loved his creation that he gave his only begotten son, Jesus Christ, that whosoever shall believe upon him shall not perish but have everlasting life. I love you all, my god brothers and sisters. I guess you would all be my god brothers and sisters. I love you all and peace and safety to you. God bless. Amen.

Hey family, it's Arjen from Florida. By the time this message gets played, it is probably going to be the new year, so it is awesome just to be in 2017 with you guys. I look forward to walking through all of our struggles and supports and just continuing in that love together. Brian, thank you so much, Brother. I don’t say that, but I just want to know how grateful I am. I'm calling to pray for Reyna who is struggling with alcoholism and who is having confrontation with her sons and is just going through depression. Reyna, I know what depression is like. I know what isolation, feeling isolated is like. I pray for the company and unconditional love of Jesus, Reyna, to be so unbelievably strong in your life, so unbelievably powerful and unshakeable and present that all of the other worldly issues that come in your life will grow so dim that you forget that they even exist, that these enemies of yours will be extinguished, that though you look for them, you will not be able to find them, that you walk and live and love in the fellowship of Jesus and are at so much peace that you can comfort all of us, Reyna. I pray this in Jesus’ mighty name. I pray this with Jesus’ mighty heart. I pray with the Spirit of God, our creator, sustainer, and principle mover of all things. Reyna, we love you and we thank you for how open you are being because that openness gives us a window to be open. I love all of you guys. God bless.

Hey everybody. This is Pelham from Birmingham with Molly and now baby Andy whose name is Gerald Anderson Hart. I'm just calling in today because if I don’t call some time I'm not going to call because it’s pretty busy here in the hospital room. I'm standing here with my wife, with Molly. Say hi. [Molly] Hey everybody! Thank you all so much for your prayers. That was Molly and then we’re looking down here on Grandma who is holding Andy with the WubbaNub and he's just as happy as he can be. I'm blown away by how good God has been through this whole process, the miracle of him giving us this baby. The fact that the baby was born on the day that we lost our first child is not lost on me. The health of this baby, everything has just been checking out just right. He's amazed us at every turn. Let me see if I can get him to make a noise. Can you make a noise buddy? Only got a couple of seconds. [Molly] Say hey to your DAB family, baby Andy. [Pelham] You want to say something Andy? Nope, Andy doesn’t want to say anything. He wanted his WubbaNub back. Alright, well, I just wanted to call and thank everyone all over the world for praying for me and Molly through all these years. My father who passed away, he was here and is here and it just means so much to me, everyone out there. I’ll keep you updated as to how the child is doing. Everything is wonderful and I hope everyone is well.

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