Summary: The Oak or Choke fic - Oak teaches you how to drive stick.
A long day didn’t even begin to cover what you’d been through.
You were working as stage manager to a show that was having its first go at an Off Broadway production. You’d been a stage manager since middle school and your skills had surely developed since then, but you’d never worked Off Broadway before. So many changes were still being made to the show, which meant there were many meetings to be had, many cues to be altered. It just seemed like one thing after the other.
You’d been working nonstop for several hours when the director, Warren, finally managed to get ahold of you between meetings. “Woah, slow down.” He joked as you bumped into him.
“I am so sorry, boss.” You replied. He rolled his eyes at the nickname; it seemed like everyone called him that those days.
“Where ya headed in such a rush?”
“I was hoping to grab some coffee before relaying these cue notes to the ensemble. Then I have a meeting with John to go over light cues, make sure the stage is preset for tomorrow’s run, give Frankie the new list of prop providers-”
“Hey, hey!” He interrupted you as you went down your list. “You do know you have an assistant and an intern for a reason. You’re wearing yourself thin.”
“Warren, I’ve been at this since I was eleven. I got this. Oh, and I have to call Oak about my car!” Your cell phone dinged with the reminder. You scribbled the note on your schedule, “Thank you, technology.”
Before you knew it, your clipboard had been taken from. He held your tasks behind his back as you reached for it. “How about you call him now? Take the rest of the day.”
“I have work to do.”
“Which will be delegated to your assistant and intern.” He reiterated. “We didn’t hire them for nothing. Everything will be fine. Just show up tomorrow. And no, no is not an option. Out!”
Ten minutes later, you were sitting outside the theatre on the sidewalk, waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up. He had a few days off from Hamilton, so he was happy to spend time with you, even the twenty minute car ride it took to get home. When you watched his car pull over, you stood up, strolling over. The window rolled down as you neared the vehicle, a grin on Oak’s face, “How much?”
You let out an amused breath, “You couldn’t afford me. Unlock the door.”
You got in quickly and threw your belongings in the backseat. Oak could tell you’d had one of those days when you sat back and let out a long breath. “Rough day?” He asked as he slowed at a stop sign.
“You remember when I did the Hamilton workshop?”
You both let out a laugh as the car began to move forward. That was where you both met, so even though the two of you were in the stressful and exciting mess of a workshop, you had fond memories of each other there. Sometimes, Oak was so busy flirting with you during rehearsals, he would miss his cues. For you, the days used to run together, everything becoming a blur. Oak, however, never missed an opportunity to make you smile and relax.
You let a comfortable silence wash over you, the only sound being your boyfriend’s occasional humming. You found yourself spacing out while looking at his hand and legs as he shifted gears and pressed different pedals. Oak was the only person you knew who could drive stick and enjoy it. You wanted to learned when you were a teenager, but when you got in and the car jerked forward, you were done.
Oak glanced at you before chuckling, “Babe, what are you staring at?”
You shook your head as you looked back at him. You’d been so focused, you didn’t even realize that he’d just pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. “Huh?”
“I said what are you staring at?”
“Oh,” You blushed, “I zoned out. I was watching you drive.”
“Really?” He gave you playful look of disbelief. He’s been driving you around for awhile now since your car was in the shop. You never seemed to be that interested in how he drove. He shrugged and dropped the keys in your hand, “You wanna try?”
“Oak, I don’t wanna wreck your car.”
“You’re not gonna wreck it.” He laughed. “Come on! Everyone’s at work, so the parking lot is empty. I’ll be right here, guiding you.”
“You’re gonna be fine. I’ll be right there in the passenger seat the whole time.”
You felt an excited smile slip onto your lips as you began to contemplate it. “Are you sure?”
You gave in and hopped out, anticipation running through your veins, the same anticipation you felt years ago when you first tried to drive stick years ago. You plopped down in the driver’s seat and Oak chuckled from your right side. “Yeah, you might wanna adjust the seat, short stuff.”
“Bite me.” You said with a grin.
After you adjusted the seat, you went to turn on the car before Oak stopped you. “What?” You asked.
“Okay, first, you have to press the clutch while you turn the key. Second, aren’t you forgetting something?”
You thought about it for a moment, “To press the clutch?”
He laughed and reminded you to check your mirrors. “And put on your seatbelt.” He added. “Don’t wanna hit your head on the steering wheel, do you?”
You did as he said before putting the key in the ignition. “Clutch.” You whispered to yourself. Your foot searched for the pedal to your far left, pressing it down while you turned the key. The car roared to life as you grinned at Oak, your hands firmly holding the wheel. “Good job, Y/N.”
“Thanks. So how do you drive this thing?”
“Uh, this thing has a name.”
“I am not calling your car that.”
“You just offended her.”
You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes, “Fine. How do you drive Betsy?”
Oak grinned triumphantly while he explained it to you, “Now, press down on the clutch and shift into first gear.”
“Which one is first gear?”
“Y/N, just look at the stick shift. There’s a little diagram.” He chuckled. You looked at the stick shift and moved it to first gear, looking to Oak for confirmation. “Good, now as you lift your foot from the clutch, slowly press down on the gas pedal.”
You did as he said, squeaking as the car jerked forward. “Slowly.” He reminded you.
“You don’t have to apologize.” He said, playfully shoot you a grin. “Just try again.”
You tried once more, but this time, the car moved much smoother, causing you to cheer. “I did it!”
“You did! But don’t get too excited. You’re driving.” He joked, lightly punching your arm.
“You know you’ve driven before. Shift to second gear.”
You shifted again and made a u-turn, loving the feeling of being so in control of the car. “I know, but this is so different. I feel like, I don’t know-”
“Like you’re the boss for once?”
“Eyes on the road, babe.”
You drove around for about a half hour. You were still trying to get the hang of stopping though. Every time you stopped, the car would turn off. Stalling, you recalled him saying. “Y/N, I think that’s enough driving for today.” He said.
“Just let me try one more time. Please!”
“Okay.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “Drive towards the curb and stop. Remember, press the clutch, shift to neutral, then press the brake.” You drove towards the curb slowly, the nerves starting to build up at the bottom of your stomach. “Okay,” He said, “Now stop.”
You whispered to yourself his directions, “Clutch.”
You were getting close to the curb, but you wanted to get it right at least once. “Neutral.”
The car jerked forward as you pressed the brake suddenly, both of you worried that you would hit the curb. As your backs hit the seats, you slowly looked at each other. “I think you should park the car.” You giggled breathlessly.
He laughed along with you, “Well, obviously, I’m gonna park the car.”
pls oh great Lanni, write an AU Jyn/Cassian based off of Life As We Know It (hopefully with baby Poe). I would appreciate it greatly, as I am suffering from Jyn/Cassian withdrawals. tysm
Okay, I think you were wanting something cute and sweet and this…is not it. I’ve admittedly never seen the movie, “Life as We Know It”, so I had to read the plot on Wikipedia. I didn’t think this was my kind of fic…and then I read a handful of single parent AUs and suddenly got emotional about it. I’ve decided this is going to be a two parter (…maybe three, but no more than that) since I’m impatient. This first part is definitely angsty as it deals with grief and mourning. I don’t kill off characters so I was sad. And Jyn and Cassian are so like the poster children for angst. Don’t worry; there will be some cute and light moments as well! I just had to deal with my own grief apparently while writing this.
Summary: After the unexpected deaths of their mutual best friends, Cassian and Jyn must work together despite their differences to help raise their friends’ two year-old son. Of course, what neither one of them anticipated was how their own relationship would change from a tense friendship to something much more.
Cassian pulled his face out of his hands and sat up straight in the pew. When was the last time he had come to church that wasn’t death related? Even his job required it, except it had never been personal then. He felt haunted by the biblical scenes in the stained glass windows and had difficulty looking forward, as if he might catch eyes with the one of the statues and be judged terribly. His own eyes were dark and guarded, the bags under them more prominent than normal. Anyone that glanced at him would immediately skid their eyes away. He preferred it that way. He didn’t think he could take anyone’s pity right now.
“Hey,” a quiet voice whispered to his left.
When Cassian looked over, he saw that it was Jyn. She appeared torn between looking wary and nervous. Two very different emotions in his opinion, but maybe that just came from years of doing interrogations. This was not the time for him to analyze what her facial expression meant, but he couldn’t help himself. It was second nature to him and, quite frankly, helped him retreat into his mind for a brief moment.
Without saying anything, he scooted over on the pew and allowed her to sit down next to him. She swept the back of her modest black dress under her legs as she sat down. He had never seen her so quiet or still before, although he could tell by the slight bounce of her left foot that she was indeed nervous or at the very least uncomfortable. Her eyes darted around the church like she’d never been in one before, overwhelmed by the vastness and piety of it all. It caused her to press her lips into a thin line and hunk down further in her seat than him.
Jyn was not a quiet woman. From the moment he’d first met her on what could only be described as a blind date of doomsday disaster proportions, he had realized that. It had grated on his nerves for the longest time. She had a worse mouth than a sailor, was not afraid to state her opinion even if it caused awkward moments, and was brash in the kind of way that drove people that actually cared about her mad. Granted, he’d accidentally insulted her profession before realizing she was a crime journalist, but he was a cop, so it was only natural.
Today though she was almost deathly quiet. Cassian closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to think of it like that, not with the two caskets up front, and shame flared in his gut. It had taken a few years, but he and Jyn had learned to become civil with one another, perhaps almost friends, for the sake of their best friends. Cassian remembered thinking it was unfortunate, terrible luck that the very friend who set him up on a blind date with Jyn began to date the friend that set Jyn up with him. He hadn’t wanted to deal with a woman that he considered difficult and aggressive. And yet, as time went on and their friends got married, those concerns became less and less.
He still wouldn’t say that they were close, but right now, strangely, she was probably the only person in the room that he could tolerate sitting beside him.
A letter to my love, the one I never got to really love
I am so sorry that it didn’t work out
We both played a part
We both tore it apart before it ever even began
I fell too fast
You too slow
I was not who you needed
But you were who I needed
You were energetic and ferociously yourself and you made me feel beautiful
You let me talk about the snow and the rain and the sky
You were everything I needed as I was falling apart
But you were the wrong kind of glue
And you didn’t hold up
You left me
But I forgive you my love
Because I think it’s better that way
I deserved to be left
I didn’t deserve you
And so I’m sorry
Because I tried to fight for you and I should have let go
Oh my love
We would have been beautiful
But it just turned into a beautiful mess
I’m more of a mess now than ever
But you seem to be doing well
You seem happy
And I’m glad
You deserve to be happy
I hope you are well
I hope you are better now
So this is it.
Me letting go.
My final goodbye.
Goodbye my love.
I hope life gives you all the good you deserve.
At times I feel like I don’t deserve all of your wonderful attention as my attention span to everyone is hard to keep track of, yet I realize it’s only because you guys care. I hope you know I appreciate every ask, reply, piece of art, chat you guys send even if I can’t get to everything.
I’m getting close to 950 followers following the big milestone of 1000. It’s hard to believe that you guys are always here to interact. It warms my heart, even though this asshole gets his kicks.
I sincerely just want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart over the course of my absence and even now as I am beginning to come back to more activity. Even if my activity slows and I procrastinate on here, I am always here and always watching everything.
I adore you guys so much as a community as you feel like a huge family. I’m just one Thresh out of a bunch but I’m ever appreciative to your time, effort, and patience. I’ve made so many friends it’s overwhelming but honestly very uplifting.
You continue to drive me to be the best I can be on this blog <3 Never stop being you~ I may focus on one person to the next and I can be sparse, but I promise you it’s not intentional. Thresh is just a picky mofo and I get drained from writing as it takes a lot of brain power.
I put my heart and soul into responses for you all and hold myself to a standard on here always, in a good way however.
I just want you to know you are all appreciated and loved by this Chain Warden right here <3
Silverflint drabble 59, please? I miss those two already
Silver shut the door to the cabin of the Walrus, flinging rain off his hands and wiping his hair from his face.
They had been out on a hunting trip and had had minor success with capturing a couple of large French sloops before a very slow-moving summer storm had caught up to them, dropping bucket-loads of rain but hardly any wind, thunder, or lightning.
“Still raining cats and dogs I see,” drawled out Flint from behind his desk. Silver thumped his way over to him and took a seat, looking more fatigued from the crutch than usual.
“And this bloody thing,” he said, leaning it against the desk, “is so saturated I’m going to need a new one.”
“I told you not to get it wet,” replied Flint with a hint of I-told-you-so in his voice.
Silver scoffed. “An impossible feat on this ship.”
“No, not impossible, if you would stay put out of the rain.”
Silver raised his hands and looked around them, indicating the room, before looking back at Flint.
“And so here I am,” he said dramatically.
That earned him a lop-sided smile from under a ruddy beard.
They sat and talked about nothing in particular for a while before–as always–returning to the matter of the return to Nassau in two weeks’ time. At some point during their conversation Silver noticed the men’s voices from outside and silence from the skies above. He leaned forward to peek out the porthole and saw the rain had stopped and the sun was coming out.
“Ah, at last,” he said. Something blindingly bright glinted out of the corner of his eye. He blinked and followed the light to the edge of Flint’s small bookcase. There, hanging from a stuck-out nail, was some sort of…necklace?
“What is that?” he asked. He rose and moved toward it. He needed to stand anyway; the weather played havoc with the knee to his bad leg and it ached a little. Flint followed his movement.
“Ah, that’s just some trinket of Billy’s he did not want,” he said quickly, getting up and making it to the bookcase ahead of Silver. But Silver caught the sudden anxiety in his step. His dark eyes flicked from Flint’s to the object in question. He plucked it off the nail.
It was a simple thing; just a piece of thick metal cut into a three-dimensional square attached to a black cord.
“It was just something I was going to see if you wanted before I threw it away.”
Silver held the necklace up between them.
“Billy gave this to you?” he asked in the most disbelieving tone Flint had ever heard him use.
“He did not give it to me, I asked for it,” he said indignantly.
Silver blinked, brows drawing up.
“I knew you had started wearing them,” Flint now mumbled, eyes going to the floor. “I just thought–offhandedly, of course–you might…like it,” he finished. To Silver it sounded as though Flint had just spoken with glass shards in this throat, as though the admission were torture.
He pursed his lips heavily under his mustache and tried not to smile. He left Flint’s words hanging in the air between them as he silently dragged the necklace down over his head and to his neck. He had to pull up his wet rag of hair for it to properly settle.
He caught Flint staring at him intensely as he did so, letting his hair flop back down and suddenly feeling quite humble under that jade stare.
“Thank you,” he said softly–too softly?–and offered a small smile. “I do like it.”
To be honest I think it’s just that I’ve been systematically removing everything in my apartment that’s been causing me stress. Like I bought those shelves to move all the dolls, bought more stands so I could better display the dolls that were left over, rearranged a bunch of the art stuff, cleaned up all my winter clothes and got them put away, finished all the dishes, did most of the laundry (one more load left for today), bought bras that actually fit, am planning for a desk chair and a light for my sewing desk, am planning for storage, bought a laptop bag on Amazon since I carry my laptop daily now, fixed that fucking lightbulb… and it’s been slow it’s been over the course of a few weeks, but it’s really making a difference I think. I keep having to spend a lot of money but I feel like it’s money that I should have spent a while ago. I’ve had this art desk for two years I should have already had an office chair for it. I’ve been in the wrong bras for at least 15 years I should have done this way earlier. I need the laptop bag to protect my laptop, I need a new wallet because my current one is literally coming apart and I’ve been talking about getting one for a year and a half.
It’s just been good there are things that I’m fixing now that I didn’t even realize were contributing to me feeling stressed and anxious as much as they were.
Thanks everyone for all those notes for my last post I was happy to see how many of You liked my hairstyle exercise :3
I noticed that some of You guys were interested in seeing how Mirabelle
looks after the Embrace so here she is in all her Nosferatu beauty.
Originally, I had two pieces of her in works with different styles, but I
ended up hating the second one.
As always I realized just
how little skills I have when it comes to painting clothes and general
painting technique. I am just so messy and slow and I can’t seem to
figure out how to paint clothing correctly considering materials and
Originally she was supposed to have vintage dress
and pearls around her neck as she loves pretty clothes and expensive
jewelry, but since I couldn’t paint any of it with good results I gave
her this badly done tank top - I am Sorry Miri XD
And now more about Mirabelle herself:
her Embrace she was a naive romantic girl who really thought that her
former Ventrue master/lover will marry and eventually embrace her. When
Anton traded her for the information with Lazarus without even
hesitating she still couldn’t believe that he would do that to her. She
wasn’t supposed to be Embraced in the first place, but Lazarus grew fond
of her resilience, stubbornness and the struggle she put off while he
tried to ‘’convince’‘ her about the true nature of her relationship with
her former Master. Not long after her Embrace she realized how much of a
naive girl she was. While she is not all happy to be a Nosferatu
because of her vain nature, she still thinks that what Lazarus did to
her somehow made her into a stronger woman.
She has a fairly
good relationship with her sire, he seems to trust her after all these
years and she would like to keep it that way, in the end he might took
her beauty away, but he also opened her eyes about what this world is
all about and that love isn’t on its list.
relationships with other Nossies: She really dislikes Blackrat, Miri
tries to avoid her at all occasions, she simply doesn’t trust that this
emotionally unstable girl can make it through the unlife. She loathes
Lazarus’ other Childe Boneface, she always considered him way too human,
but because of his Embrace of Blackrat he is too weak in her eyes that
she gives him scorned look anytime she sees him.
along with Victor, who was charismatic and well groomed for a Nosferatu,
but he dissappeared few years ago. Werner was also a good fellow to
socialize with as she enjoyed that she could talk to him about vast and
various topics and he was always so calm. Sadly for her, he withdrew
from Kindred society almost completely several years back and when she
accidentally meets him now he is different, numb and apathetic and he
doesn’t seem to be interested in any conversations beyond polite
She avoids Theodor because of his creepy attitude
and misplaced jokes. She is quite neutral with other nossies and
actually doesn’t mind other clans and Kindred except Ventrue, especially
Anton who she hates passionately with her dead heart.
loves expensive clothing, jewelry and shoes. Her motto is - The fact
that I am not beautiful doesn’t mean I can’t have nice things. So you
can guess what her favorite hobby is - robbery. Oh, and also trolling on
the dating sites in her free time which she considers her personal
You want to get on her good side? Give her
expensive gifts. Don’t talk about your prince charming and you get a
charming grin on her lovely face.
oh crap something angsty hit for NSFW shukita (TW: Physical Abuse): Yusuke's abdomen being covered with scars and bruises from Madarame's physical abuse, and Akira unclothing him only to see said injuries and Yusuke shaking from bad memories, until Akira comforts him, holds him close, and takes things slow to help the poor boy heal from it all
WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME??? I HAD A SIMILAR ASK SENT TO ME MONTHS AGO BEFORE THE GAME CAME OUT AND I AM STILL RECOVERING FROM THAT WTF I’M CRYING AS I’M TYPING WHAT’S NEXT
just god… Akira wasn’t expecting it and Yusuke would probably tell him to look away because he feels so ashamed of himself that he looks like this and how disgraceful he thinks he looks with those marks to the point where he almost starts crying. And that’s when Akira gently approaches him and with Yusuke’s permission, embraces him and just whispers comforting sweet nothings to him until he’s calmed down enough to talk to the extent he feels comfortable about it. And then, Akira asks Yusuke if he can touch his scars and Yusuke is reluctant at first until he relaxes and lets him and then Akira would just… kiss every single one and hold Yusuke’ s hand because he just wants to comfort him so so much
It’s on hold because I’m currently swamped at work and am about to go on vacation back to the US for a few weeks. I’ll try to pick it back up again eventually but honestly people didn’t seem to be that into it so I just decided to slow it down to a comfortable pace for myself. No reason rushing something I’m doing for free.
I’ll finish it eventually, I’ve got ten pages sketched ahead of what is currently posted, and on average it just takes me like a day to color/line everything.
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Mystic Messenger (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Zen | Hyun Ryu & Reader, Zen | Hyun Ryu/Reader Characters: Zen | Hyun Ryu Additional Tags: takes place after the secret endings, so seayoung is with MC, Reader Is Not MC, Hospital Setting, Slow Burn, Slow To Update Summary:
Zen is hospitalised after an incident. Reader who is a big fan of the actor struggles to keep her distance as a fan and just can’t help getting closer.
(Title might be changed, comment for any suggestions.)
Hey!! So I am writing a zen x reader fic, because I love these so much haha. It was actually inspired by @avistella since I love her fics were the reader isn’t the MC, which just gives a lot more freedom to the plot tbh. It will probably be VERY cliche since I am not a very experienced writer and I just do it for fun ^^;
I am very slow to follow people because I am even slower to unfollow. tbh I think the only people I have unfollowed are those who dumped me first!4
I’ll own I DO unfollow people…I limit how many blogs I follow and I curate it closely so I generally only follow those with whom I’m actively interacting. If someone drops off Tumblr, or if we simply stop talking for whatever reason, I’ll unfollow - and it’s nothing personal, it’s just so that I don’t get swamped by my feed. On the other hand, if we start interacting again, I follow again. I follow just over 90 people and like two thirds are mutuals (and another probably ten are side blogs, also of my mutuals).
So dear everyone: if I don’t follow back, or if I unfollow you, it’s truly nothing personal.
((I am very sorry for the delay. I’m a hella slow writer. Also, long post, be ye warned, people. Also has more dialogue than usual, so yay!))
There was no denying that Sensei was a storyteller.
The very first story that he wrote was about a calico cat who watches over humans. It was similar to a children’s book in its humor, in its persistence to laugh at all the wrongdoings. He wrote about humans like they were shadows, but there was this sincere breath of life to them and it turned him into the beloved author that he was to this day.
His friends at the military would hear his stories with childlike joy. He would tell them stories during his watch duty like it was nothing but a night in the campfire. The scent of burning oil filled the room while shadows of the rabbit, the owl, and the cat appeared on the wall, all made from the shapes of his hands.
He told them about home. He told them about family, about friends, about the loved ones they will come back to. Anything to keep them away from the war.
“–her name is Mei An.”
He couldn’t remember the soldier’s face. He could have been like any other ones with the silver badges adorning his chest and the rifle settled by his side. All he remembered was the picture of the child he always carried. A little girl, seven years old. She had the brightest smile he had ever seen.
“I can’t stop thinking about my daughter.” The soldier’s fingertips caressed the edge of the photograph like one would wipe tears from a child’s eyes. “In six months, it’s going to be over. The war is going to end. It has to.”
“…and why is that?” Sensei asked him.
He could see the soldier’s mind wandering. Those eyes were gentle, like a man who has found his life’s meaning. “Mei An’s birthday. It’s a nice thought, isn’t it, coming home to a wife and child? Coming home to the ones you love?”
He knew better than to share his vulnerable moments in the face of another. You’re loving a shadow, they would say. “Have you thought about what you’re going to get her? A present, maybe?”
“Oh, I’ve got something better than a present - me!”
The soldier laughed at his own joke. It was terrible, so terrible and Sensei couldn’t help but grin at it.
“I think of her, you know? I think of her when I get up in the morning. I think of her when I’m about to fight out there. I think of her when I’m laying down on the ground, when my life was about to flash before my eyes. I don’t care what will happen. I will live on for her, that’s all that matters.”
The soldier paused to look at the rifle in his arms, like he was cradling a newborn baby.
“I miss my daughter. I miss her so much,” he continued. “Do you know what frightens me? My wife wrote to me about her. She said Mei An’s sick, terribly sick. She’s warning me, she’s warning me to end this war soon. She’s warning me that Mei An is going to leave me. She’s warning me that this is going to be the last time that I will ever see my daughter again.”
He remembered bowing to him. It was a bow meant for a friend, an inspiring person - a father.
They were only humans. They live for the sake of their loved ones. They do not live for the sake of war, no matter what the blood on their hands told them. They will never be able to run from the remorse, from the loss, not until they became shadows, until they linger to remind them of what they have done.
“My friend, I wish you safe journeys. May you return home to your daughter’s side for her birthday.”
He saw his friend’s smile before the other bowed back.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The soldier never made it home. Blood loss. Shot multiple times through the lungs. Six months later, all Mei An got for her birthday was a letter from the military about her father. She’s dead now.
Sensei needed to forget.
He should have known that it was impossible.
All the people that he met and all the people that he lost, they became shadows. He wrote about all that he had seen so terribly. The love he felt for the woman he lost, the regret he had for committing his crimes, the guilt he felt for outliving his comrades, all the wrongdoings, all of the pain - reduced to a corrupt comedy.
One night Sensei told a story about the afterlife. He told the military boys about the world had come to end and the time when all of life will wait for their final judgement.
“What have you done in your life?” He asked, deepening his voice to resemble a sentient, godly being. “What have you done with your time in the world?”
His hands formed the shapes of animals. First it was the rabbit, and then the owl, and then the cat.
“I ate and I made children,” ‘the animals’ said.
That was all that animals said. He spoke in their place, highly-pitched and silly-sounding, and he sent his storytelling audience into bouts of roaring laughter. He spoke the words, over and over, forming one shadow after another. He never failed to make them smile.
The laughter never stopped until Sensei put his fists on top of each other against the light. A shadow of a human face was seen on the wall.
“What have you done in your life?” He asked, deepening his voice to resemble a sentient, godly being. “What have you done with your time in the world?”
“I have learned.” ‘The human’ spoke. “I have learned to love and to care, to win and to lose, to feel pain and to feel pleasure, to fear and to suffer. To dream, to hope, to struggle, and to regret. I have committed many crimes. I have done terrible things, but still I cherished my time in the world. I have learned my lesson and I have passed them down to my children after me.”
There was silence before he made the sentient being speak again.
“And what happened to your children?”
He pulled his hands away. The shadows were gone. All that’s left was a man who has seen too much of everything.
“They died in the war.”
send me a ❖ + a question and my muse will be forced to tell the truth.