or, Killer asks Dust a question hes always wondered about.
a fic for the MMau
cw: dead characters, talk of eecution, light gore mentions, hanging/noose, non explicit nsfw, inappropriate discussions, dust centric, in lore elements, my own headcanons, ect
The afternoon in the Lunar Woods Park was a languid, heavy thing. Sunlight, filtered through the dense canopy of ancient birch and oak, dappled the clearing in shifting patterns of gold and deep green. It was the kind of day that felt suspended in amber, thick with the scent of damp earth and wild honeysuckle. The usual spectral activities - Killer’s petty theft of shoelaces from joggers, Cross practicing orb-form dashes between trees, Horror’s quiet ‘tending’ to a patch of blackberries he couldn’t touch, let alone eat - had all been abandoned in favour of a collective, bone-deep inertia.
They were arrayed in their usual spots. Nightmare sat on a moss-covered stone plinth that might have once been part of a fountain, his purple tunic a dark splash against the grey-green stone, one hand absently tracing the charred cracks on his radius. His single socket was half-lidded, watching dust motes dance in a sunbeam. Cross lay on his back in the grass nearby, chain mail glinting, fingers laced behind his skull as he stared at the clouds, the arrows protruding from his ribs pointing skyward like bizarre antennae. Horror was perched on a low-hanging branch, the javelin through his head casting a long, grim shadow. He was meticulously cleaning non-existent dirt from under his phalanges, a habit born from a life of baking.
And Dust… Dust was a silent, hunched figure curled at the base of the great willow tree, drowning in Killer’s oversized grey hoodie. He had his knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, his face hidden in the fabric. The frayed, blood-red remnant of the noose was a stark collar against his cervical vertebrae. He’d been like that for hours, which wasn’t unusual. His presence casting a subtle, melancholic pall over the immediate area, a psychic fog of regret that made the flowers seem to droop.
Killer was the one who shattered the silence. He’d been pacing, a restless energy coiling in him that the peaceful afternoon couldn’t diffuse. He stopped suddenly, snapping his fingers.
“Hey. Hey, Dust.”
Dust didn’t move. Cross cracked an eyesocket open. Horror paused his cleaning. Nightmare’s smokey tendrils, which had been idly weaving through the air, stilled.
“I overheard something the other day,” Killer continued, his voice a bright, conversational slash through the quiet. He plopped down cross-legged in the grass, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, a wicked, curious grin spreading across his face. “Some living guys talking by the old gallows replica near the town museum. Morbid fuckers. Anyway, they were saying something, and it got me thinking.”
A bad feeling, cold and slick, began to coil in Horror’s non-existent stomach. Cross slowly sat up. Nightmare’s eyelight sharpened, focusing on Killer with dawning alarm.
“Is it true,” Killer asked, his tone dripping with faux-innocent curiosity, “that hanging gives you an erection?”
The clearing didn’t just go quiet; the silence became a physical entity, a suffocating blanket that smothered the birdsong and the rustle of leaves. Horror’s hand slipped, and he almost fell off the branch. Cross’s jaw went slack, the arrows in his face quivering with his shock. Nightmare straightened on his plinth, smoke tendrils lashing in agitated swipes, his expression shifting from serene to utterly appalled.
“Killer!” Nightmare’s voice was a whip-crack, colder than the grave he’d never gotten. “What in the name of every forsaken god do you think you are doing?”
“You can’t just *ask* that!” Cross hissed, scrambling to his feet, his armour clinking. “Have you lost whatever remained of your damned mind?!”
Horror just stared, his shattered socket seeming to widen further around the javelin shaft. “Killz… why?” he rasped, the word heavy with disbelief.
They were braced for an explosion. For Dust to finally shatter, for the fragile, mostly-silent peace he clung to to be obliterated by this callous, brutal question about the most traumatic moment of his existence. They expected him to vanish, to retreat into the forest depths for weeks. They expected tears, or rage, or the terrifying, blank catatonia that sometimes took him. Nightmare was already rising, preparing to intervene, to shield Dust, to verbally flay Killer alive for his insensitivity.
But Dust… shifted.
Slowly, with a stiffness that spoke of long stillness, he lifted his head from the hoodie. His eyelights were there, small and dim but present, not the hollow voids of a dissociative episode. He blinked, once, twice. He looked not at his horrified friends, but at Killer, who was watching him with unabashed, analytical interest.
The reaction they’d steeled themselves for didn’t come. There was no fury. No crumbling. Just a slow, considering tilt of his head. The frayed rope shifted against his cervical vertebrae with a soft, dry sound.
When he spoke, his voice was its usual ruined scrape, but it was calm. Detached. Clinical, even.
“…Not really sure,” Dust said, the words leaving his throat with effort. “Wasn’t… thinking about it.”
The others froze, their outrage stuck in their throats. Killer’s grin didn’t falter; it just gained a layer of genuine intrigue. “No? Huh.”
Dust uncurled slightly, pulling one hand from the hoodie pocket to gesture vaguely at his own neck. “Hanging for monsters… different to humans. ‘Specially with that rope. Wasn’t… for breaking necks.”
He paused, gathering the words, stitching the explanation together from the fractured memories. “It’s like… a tourniquet. For magic. Not breath.” He tapped two phalanges against his sternum, where his soul would be. “The loop… cinches tight. Cuts off the magic flow from the soul to the body. Soul keeps trying… body starts… starving. Starts dusting from the extremities, in.”
He let his hand fall back into his lap. “Everything… goes wrong. Magic systems… freak out. Try anything to… preserve. To shield.” His dim eyelights flickered up to meet Killer’s. “So… yeah. Maybe. There’s a chance. Body panicking, might summon ecto… try to create a barrier. Unconsciously. Doesn’t know the danger’s… inescapable.”
A heavy, thick silence followed. Cross looked ill. Horror had brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Nightmare had sunk back onto the plinth, his anger replaced by a profound, aching sorrow.
Dust gave a tiny, one-shouldered shrug, the motion so slight. “But I was… a little busy. Dying. Y’know?”
The sheer, devastating understatement of it hung in the air, more palpable than any ghostly presence. A little busy dying.
Killer, after a moment, nodded slowly. The morbid curiosity on his face had softened into something else - something like understanding, or perhaps just the satisfaction of a puzzle solved. No judgment. No pity. Just… data. “Makes sense,” he said simply. “Magic’s a bitch when it’s scared. Thanks, Dusty.”
He then leaned back on his hands, looking up at the canopy as if they’d just discussed the weather. “Always wondered.”
The tension in the clearing didn’t dissipate, but it changed. The horror of the other three was now mixed with a bewildered, reluctant awe at Dust’s composure. At the fact that he could dissect his own execution with the detached air of a historian.
Nightmare finally found his voice, but it was quiet, drained. “Killer… you will never ask a question like that again. To anyone. Am I understood?”
“Sure, boss,” Killer said, waving a dismissive hand, though his eyes held a glint that said he’d file the information away forever.
Cross sat back down heavily, running a hand over his face. “Stars, Killer…”
Horror just shook his head, the javelin wobbling. He looked at Dust, who had already tucked his head back into the hoodie, the conversation clearly over for him. The melancholy aura around him seemed unchanged, perhaps even a fraction lighter, as if speaking the mechanics of it had bled off a tiny bit of the poison.
The afternoon settled back over them, the sunlight continuing its slow crawl across the grass. But the dynamic had shifted, just a little. They had seen a new facet of Dust’s trauma - not the explosive grief they feared, but a chilling, precise dissection. And they had seen, yet again, that Killer’s moral compass wasn’t broken; it had simply never been installed. He’d asked the question not to be cruel, but because he genuinely wanted to know. And somehow, against all reason and decency, Dust had been the only one not offended by it.
In the haunted stillness of the Lunar Woods, it was just another strange, dark thread in the tapestry of their afterlife. A question asked, an answer given in broken, rasping clinical terms. And the rainbows, when they appeared later that evening as Nightmare’s mood turned pensive, seemed to weep light over a clearing that understood a little more about the precise ways a soul could be undone.
Wholesome Headcanons between Portugal and the Knights Templar:
Portugal was always very wary of older parental figures (after Rome and Al-Andaluz), so the Knights Templar had to be very patient to win his trust. Once Port realized he wasn’t there to take anything from him, he latched on to the Knights.
The Knights not only taught him how to fight, they also introduced new farming and fishing tecniques and tecnology to improve the ones he still had since his mother’s day during the Roman Empire.
He loved the Knights so much, he began looking up to him as an adoptive father.
When the Knights Templar were disbanded and hunted down, Portugal offered his home as their safe heaven and hide them from France and the Vatican. They changed their name to the “Order of Christ”.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to save the Templars’ life and he passed away, but not before naming Port as his sucessor and becoming the patron of his seafearing endeavors.
That money was later used to build the ships that started the Age of Discovery, and the Knights red cross was used as the symbol for the sails.
Author’s notes: Hey ya’ll i’m back with another story! this time it isn’t sexual lololololololol i meant to write this for halloween, but i never finished it on time so here we are a month later! Anyway I hope you all enjoy it!
It was 1580. Korea was on the brink of a Japanese invasion, but was oblivious to this fact; ignoring all warnings including those of Yu Seong-Ryeong (유 성 령). Yu was a prominent scholar and a very determined man. Korea had declined weapons technology, so their military was considerably weakened compared to the other countries that were doing the most to enhance their respective military. Yu had been paying close attention to the conflict happening outside of Korea, making theories and ways to prevent any sort of outside conflict in their country. He feared Japan would eventually invade Korea, but said nothing without gathering enough evidence to back up his claims before he brought it to the Korean court. It wasn’t until he received a visit from an ancient witch that he was convinced Japan would come.
It was a dark night, quieter than most days. Yu was preparing for bed when there was a presence in the room. Frightened by the sudden intrusion, he called out to the woman standing in the corner, threatening her to leave before he took any action.
“Who are you? How dare you enter without permission!” he had said.
“I am an ancient witch. I’ve been around for a long time….and i’ve been watching you.”
He told her she was crazy and threatened her once again. When she only smiled, he asked what she wanted and she replied, “I know the future of your country. You think Japan will invade Korea. I’m here to tell you that your theories are true.”
Although startled, the witch seemed to bring no harm. This piqued his interest and he listened to what the witch had to say. She told him that Japan was indeed going to invade Korea in the near future, bringing death and agony with them, and that as it stood right now, Korea had no chance of stopping them. Yu paid close attention to what the witch had to say, listening intently and figuring out ways to prevent the invasion.
Meanwhile outside of Yu’s room, a slave was listening to their conversation. He was bringing Yu some water that he had requested when he heard the commotion in the room. Before he entered, he felt the need to stick around instead of calling the guards at the front of the house. After the witch had disappeared without a trace, the slave seriously considered any options he had to help his family- a wife and a 5 year old son.
In the years to come, Yu became Prime Minister of Korea and one of Admiral Yi’s strongest advocates; strengthening and reorganizing their military, arguing for stronger castles, different military tactics, and improving things like armour. He believed that all men, regardless of social status should be conscripted. However, his proposals were dismissed and the Korean court remained blissfully ignorant. Advisors of the court opposed these ideas of his, saying that Japan was in no position to attack Korea.
Meanwhile, the slave that believed everything Yu was saying mapped out a plan to get him and his family out of the country. He managed to convince his wife that they needed to leave to avoid the war and escaped to England, where they tried to start a new life.
Two years later, the family was met with tragedy. They had been caught up in the Anglo-Spanish war that broke out in 1587, both parents being killed in all the commotion. The young boy, now aged 11, hid on one of the boats at the pier. He escaped as a stowaway on the ship, which so happened to carry the 115 men, women and children that would make up “The Lost Colony”. This group of people were the Roanoke Colony. They were the first to attempt an English settlement on Roanoke Island (Today’s Dane County, NC). The voyage was difficult and the people faced many hardships getting to the newfoundland. When they arrived, they found the boy and blamed him for all the difficulties, saying he was cursed. They had locked him up and starved him, leaving him to rot. Bad blood had arose between the local Coatan natives and the Roanoke Colony, leading to the natives slaughtering most of the English people. While searching for goods and things they could steal, one of the natives found the boy locked up in a cage a ways away from the fort. He saw that the boy looked different from the rest of the English people, and took him back to his tribe. The Chief’s wife took great interest in the young boy, deciding to take him under her wing, convincing the Croatan Chief to allow her to keep him. Since he was a young boy, he was able to learn the language of the natives with the help of his adopted mother. They came to learn his name was Jimin, and they raised him. One night, while Jimin was sleeping peacefully next to his brothers, The same ancient witch that had appeared in front of Yu, had appeared in front of Jimin. She cast a spell that kept the rest of the tribe asleep while she spoke with Jimin.
“I have foreseen your future. You will become a strong, powerful man that will be feared by many. Your descendants will be great, and you will play an important role in the future of your tribe.” The witch had said.
Young Jimin was not afraid of this witch, because he believed her. He felt no ill intentions from her, so he sat and listened intently to what she had to say.
“I will be strong?” Jimin asked.
“Very.”
“How?” he asked.
“You see, I have been around for too long. My time is coming to an end, and I must pass down the power that was given to me.”
“So, you will give it to me?” Jimin said, a bit excited.
“Yes, indeed. I have travelled the world looking for suitable characters, but I could not find anyone who would be fit to hold this power. Then you came to me in a dream.”
Jimin laughed. “You were dreaming about me? What a weird lady.”
The witch smiled down at the precious boy. “Well, I am an ancient being.”
“So, how am I supposed to get this power?” Jimin asked.
“There is a ritual that I must perform. You will receive the mark of the witch and when I pass, you will inherit the power. It will be dormant until you need to use it. You must learn the ways of magic and make the decision on how you will use it.” the witch explained.
“I can use it however I want?”
“Yes. you can use it for good or for evil. It all comes down to you. But with this power, you will have to face hardships. There is much responsibility that comes with this power. If you forget yourself, you may find yourself losing control. ”
Jimin nodded, understanding what that meant. The witch came over to him and reached out her hand. He took it and she started whispering a chant in a language Jimin could not recognize.
Suddenly, all senses were cut off. Jimin could not hear, could not see, could not smell anything, and his mouth ran dry. The only thing he could sense was the witch’s hand holding onto his. He became scared and held on tighter to the hand, bringing the other to grasp onto it as well, not wanting to let go. He felt a surge of something through through his body, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Soon after, he felt sleepy and he slowly started to regain his senses. The and that was holding onto him had been moved away, and he felt himself falling…
He faintly heard the witch say, “Remember: you now have a major responsibility. Don’t forget who you are.” As he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Jimin came to, he took in his surroundings. His brothers had already woken up, no one was in the tent except him. He remembered everything that had happened the night before, wondering if he had just dreamt it all up. He went to go put on his shoes, but when he reached for them, he noticed something on the front of his wrist; it was a strange symbol that looked drawn on. He tried scrubbing it off, but it seemed too attached to his skin, and nothing changed even after he scratched at it. Was this the mark of the witch? So what happened last night had been real?
Jimin remembered what the witch had said, and with that, finished placing his shoes on his feet and walked outside.
…
The witch had been right about Jimin; he had become a very powerful man. As the Croatan tribe raised him, he learned their way of living. He was one of the strongest warriors in the tribe, which the chief was proud of. No one doubted him since he had been with him since he was a child, and had not given anyone a reason to doubt him. Jimin won the hearts of many, and they all trusted him with their lives. It wasn’t until he found himself standing between a very angry wild cougar and a young boy from the tribe that his powers awakened. Jimin had taken a few boys from the tribe out to teach them how to hunt. Along the way, one of the boys had strayed from the path and gotten himself injured on a slippery rock by the creek. Seeing as this boy was defenseless, a cougar decided he would make a good snack. If Jimin had not gotten there in time, the boy would be ripped to shreds. He felt a strong urge to protect the boy, so he stood in between the cougar and the boy, ready to attack with whatever he could, even if it was only long enough for the boy to make a swift escape. Suddenly the mark on his wrist that hadn’t done anything for over a decade was glowing. He didn’t have time to react to it as the cougar lunged out at him, claws ready to rip through his skin, fangs glaring at him. He put his hands out if front of him to block the cougar, telling the young boy to run. But the boy was too scared, and was frozen in his place. Jimin somehow managed to grab the cougar’s paws, binding them together and tossing the cougar’s body aside. The cougar growled as he fell to the floor, trying to get up and attack, but was unable to because of the magic binding that held his limbs together. Jimin looked at the binding in confusion, wondering where that came from. He briefly looked at his wrist before turning to lift the boy in his arms and running towards the other group of boys, where he told them to turn back to the village in case there were more cougars in the area. After making sure all the boys were safely within the walls of the village, he made sure they were all alright. The boy that had slipped on the rock had only scraped his ankle, the injury looking worse than it actually was. Jimin wiped the blood from the boy’s ankle and gently wrapped it in cloth.
“Don’t worry about today, okay? Next time stay with the group so that we don’t accidentally lose you.” Jimin said.
The boy nodded and looked down, feeling sorry about the trouble he caused.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re alive right now, and i’m sure your mom is too.”
The boy smiled softly and then reached for Jimin’s wrist, pulling it closer to get a good look at the symbol that was no longer glowing.
“What is this?”
Jimin looked at the symbol on his wrist, knowing exactly what it was.
“I didn’t think this was actually real.” he said.
“What?”
Jimin smiled at the boy.
“I guess i’m gonna be a powerful man.”
The boy smiled at him and said, “Then I guess i’ll be powerful too if you teach me how to hunt better!”
Jimin ruffled the boy’s hair with a grin.
“That’s right. So make sure you pay attention to everything I say, and follow directions.”
And with that, the boy went off to play with his friends.
Jimin looked down at his wrist once more, knowing the witch’s power had awakened. Now all he needed to do was learn how to use his newfound power.
…
In the next few months, Jimin was obsessed with learning how to wield his power. He had no one to teach him, but something was telling him how to make witchcraft from the inside. It was like he had someone else’s conscience living inside his head whispering commands and giving him symbols to make. By the end of the year, Jimin had learned many new things about his power, and the native tribe he belonged to were a bit wary of him since he was using witchcraft. The Croatan Chief reassured them, saying the shaman of the tribe saw great power in Jimin, and that he was going to protect the tribe. This was true for the next few years. He aided the natives in anything they needed, helping crops grow, helping with healing the seniors, and even became a powerful weapon against the English settlement that was trying to conquer more land. Jimin even married a native woman. They had two sons, fraternal twins. One was named Jinyoung- who inherited some of the witch power, and the other was named Kai- who did not. Jimin became an important figure amongst the tribe, his sons adored by many. Though Jongin did not inherit some of the power, he was not put aside or treated differently. Kai was very determined and was stronger than Jinyoung physically. Kai had a different type of power: the power of determination. He never gave up and always found the solution to his and others problems. Even though he was a young boy, at only 8 years old, he was acknowledged as one of the smartest in the tribe after his father. Jimin was very proud of his sons, and loved them more than anything in the world. They got along well with the other kids of the tribe so surprisingly, there was no jealousy towards them, since they all understood Jinyoung and Kai came from Jimin. Maybe it was also because everyone knew how powerful Jimin was, and never dared to start up problems with his family. After the Jamestown establishment was permanently officiated, the englishmen were getting greedy and wanted to conquer more land. The Roanoke colony had tried to do the same in previous years, but they were stopped by someone or something, because they disappeared without a trace. The Croatan tribe had nothing to do with it, or as far as the Chief and Jimin knew. But apparently they had left a message on one of the posts and a tree around their fort: “CROATOAN”. This led the Englishmen who came back with more people about a year later to believe that the Croatan tribe had been the cause of their disappearance. The truth was, no one knew where the Roanoke colony had wandered off to. No one knew their whereabouts, and they were never seen again.
This event, however, would come back to haunt the Croatan tribe, as some of the Englishmen in the Jamestown settlement truly believed the Croatan slaughtered their friends. The settlement had decided to use force instead of civil talk, and sacked and burned villages. They had guns and firepower, which easily overpowered the native tribes surrounding them. They did not seem to care which native tribe village they burned. If a native village was in the way of their colonization, they burned it to the ground. There was a very powerful tribe called the Powhatan tribe. They were merging with other tribes in order to become a stronger force that would take down the English. When a messenger from the Powhatan tribe came to the Croatan Chief, he was sent away in a hurry. The Chief did not like the idea of merging one bit. He said it was a disrespectful gesture and that the Croatan tribe could take care of themselves. The advisors all agreed, saying that the Powhatan tribe only wanted to merge with them to become a bigger force, using the settlement as an excuse to convince the other surrounding native tribes. Jimin knew what it meant to deny any chief from any tribe a request. Most of the chiefs thought it to be disrespectful to not even respond by sending another messenger. Jimin had heard of the Powhatan Chief; he had heard that he was a ruthless man who hungered for more power than he could handle. He convinced most people by manipulating them to do his will. He had much respect as well. If anyone had asked about Chief Powhatan, they would all say that he was a great leader. He made sure to give back the wealth of conquered lands, even though he could have kept it all to himself. In short, Chief Powhatan would always distribute the wealth from a new acquired village to his followers, making him a more respectable man with great leadership skills. He had heard the horror stories about this man as well, about how he wouldn’t even hesitate to kill if it was within his plans to do so, and that his killing methods were painfully unnecessary and slow. They say that he would use unorthodox means such as disembowelment, ripping bodies apart with ropes, tying people up and burning them alive, and even going as far as cutting up flesh by mincing it while the person was still alive. It was said that he enjoyed killing people, and that there was nothing anyone could do about it. Instead of telling him to stop, the Chief convinced those against his methods to participate in them. Probably the most disturbing story Jimin had heard about this Chief was that at some point, when he was taking over a certain area of land, he manipulated the village that refused to merge with his tribe to kill the Chief of their tribe, cut up his limbs, scalp him, and stick the pieces of his body on large posts as a warning to other villages by just talking to them from the seat of his horse. The entire time, the Chief was watching with a sinister smile on his face as the scene played out before him, exactly as he wanted it to. He did everything he could to gain more power and respect among the surrounding native tribes, letting his reputation become more and more known. These may have just been that- horror stories, but Jimin was not about to sit around and find out. Jimin felt something terrible was on its way. He knew the Powhatan probably had something up their sleeve and would not back down easily, so he began to prepare.
He gathered all the warriors of the Croatan tribe and said, “In about a week, the Powhatan tribe will attack. They are all under the rule of the Powhatan Chief, and he is a ruthless man. Gather your wives and children and tell them to move out of the area. In case they bring a force we cannot hold back, we must prepare for the worst.” Jimin said.
With his arms crossed, a man said,”What, are you telling us to leave this place? This has been and will be our land for a long time!”
Another man raised his voice as well.
“YEA! You dare take us for weaklings? We will defend this tribe to the death!”
Jimin shook his head.
“Of course not. I believe we have more than enough manpower to handle a few other men attacking us. I have faith that you all will protect your loved ones till the end. I am just saying that if we are overtaken or if friends have become foes, local tribes might attack us as well….we don’t know which tribe has merged with the Powhatan tribe, so it is up to us to stand our ground. I just want to make sure that our next generation makes it out of here alive.” Jimin said.
The men couldn’t complain with that. Jimin laid out the plan to them, explaining every single detail and back up plans in case one fell through. Even with his witchcraft, he didn’t know how much of the village he could protect. In the next few days, Jimin worked with the warriors of the tribe to send the women and children to a different area, and kept them hidden in a barrier. He cast a spell that protected each of them, as long as they stayed within the barrier. If they were to leave said barrier, they would be exposed to the dangers of the Powhatan tribe’s attack.
The attack came just as Jimin had predicted. But they came earlier than expected. It was around noon, when suddenly shouts declaring attack were heard. Jimin called out to all the men who were going to fight to prepare themselves. Jimin walked out of the village boundaries to see if he could stop this fight and settle it peacefully.
“Where is your Chief?!” he yelled out.
“He does not wish to speak with your tribe. You have reached the point of no return. There will only be blood now.” The leader of the warriors said.
“Pease, there need not be bloodshed. We can handle this peacefully.” Jimin said.
“Ahahahaha you think Chief Powhatan cares for peaceful encounters with the enemy?! In what world?!”
Jimin knew it was too late to change their minds. He knew it was useless to try and stop them; all the attackers looked bloodthirsty. He was just stalling so that any last group of women and children could escape.
“Then i’ll give you one last warning to turn back. If you don’t, you’ll all die.” Jimin said.
The warriors grinned at him and some chuckled, furrowing their brows as they prepared to attack. Jimin turned slightly behind him, nodding his head as a signal to the men behind him, telling them to get into their places. The Powhatan warriors started running for him, arrows already in the air. Jimin closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and relaxed before furrowing his eyebrows and whispering a chant as he formed invisible symbols with his fingers. When he opened his eyes, they glowed the same color as the symbol on his arm, circular magic forming at his fingers. At this, some of the men’s eyes widened, not expecting Jimin to be a witch. Before any of them could reach him, Jimin lunged forward quickly and with the circular “blades”, cut into their flesh, avoiding the line of arrows meant to hit him. He was fast and agile, wasting no time to let anyone else react. The man who was commanding them from afar, sent more men in, also telling the archers to launch their arrows. Jimin was on a roll now, lunging from person to person, slicing easily through their necks, abdomens, chest, etc. At some point, a man ran towards him and managed to almost strike, Jimin ducking and slicing at his ankles aiming for the achilles tendon, immediately immobilizing the man. Jimin was quick enough to dodge the arrows, using the “blades” as shields when he couldn’t. Back at the village, the Croatan men could hear the yelps and grunts and screams of the Powhatan men, a little unnerved at the fact that Jimin was taking them all on. They didn’t know exactly what was going on, but they were all prepared to fight anyone that got past him. Suddenly they heard yells from behind them, realizing more Powhatan men had snuck around the village and come through the back. The men grabbed their daggers, tomahawks and spears and charged, using their strength and combat techniques to slice at vital areas on the Powhatan’s bodies.
A little ways away, Jimin’s two sons- Jinyoung and Kai- were running back to the village. They had heard about what was going to happen back at the village and snuck away from their mother and the barrier to go help their dad. At first, Jinyoung told Kai to stay back, since he didn’t have any witch powers, but Kai was adamant about going with him, saying they could set up traps together. Jinyoung agreed and they left for the village. Once they got close enough to hear the yelling, they stopped and hid in a bush to scope out the area.
They saw men battling with each other, stabbing one another, beating on each other, killing with their bare hands, bloodied bodies splattered everywhere. The boys had never seen so much bloodshed before, eyes widening at the scene before them.
“Where do you think dad is?” Jinyoung said.
“I’m sure he’s at the front of it all. You know how he is.” Kai said.
“How do we get past all these guys?” Jinyoung asked.
“We can sneak in through the side there.” Kai said, pointing at an opening at the side of one of the structures.
Jinyoung nodded and they both ran towards the opening. When they got inside, they were pleasantly surprised to have run into the weapons tent, smiling at each other before grabbing the most convenient weapon for themselves. Kai chose a tomahawk while Jinyoung picked up two daggers.
“C’mon, let’s kill these bastards.” Jinyoung said.
Kai nodded, and they both ran out of the tent to attack the first person in sight. They were actually very skilled. Though they were young, Jimin had taught them well, so they could hold their own. Jinyoung did not hesitate as he sliced through the attackers, Kai in complete murder mode, throwing his tomahawk at the heads of the enemy, focusing on killing as many men as possible.
“Kai! Jinyoung!” a man from their tribe called out,”what are you both doing here! Go back to the barrier!”
“No way! We came to help dad!” Kai said.
“We have to help fight!” Jinyoung said.
“I thought you were both supposed to be protecting the others back at the barrier!” the man said.
Jinyoung and Kai looked at each other, remembering their dad saying something like that. Jimin had told them to help protect the others, but since they were more focused on helping their dad on the battlefield, they forgot all about it. In the short moments that they were thinking about what the man had said, they were distracted and didn’t see an enemy warrior coming their way.
“WATCH OUT!” he yelled.
But it was too late. The warrior threw his knife and it wedged itself in Kai’s arm, blood gushing from his wound as the man pulled it out to bring it back down again to stab the boy in the chest. Kai let out a scream, tears welling up at the sudden pain he felt that shot up his spine. It took a few moments for him to grasp the situation. Noticing the blood dribbling down his arm, he grasped at it, trying to keep himself from bleeding out, shock slowly setting in. Before the man could stab him in the chest though, Jinyoung yelled something out and in an instant, the man stopped. Jinyoung came closer, holding his hand out as if reeling the man in with his finger. It seemed that he had chanted some sort of binding spell, the enemy warrior falling to his knees, unable to move. He grunted as he tried to get out of it, but it was futile. Jinyoung got closer and brought one of his daggers up to the man’s neck as he slit a thin line across it, watching the blood ooze out, the man squirming in place, eyes wide with fear, choking on his own blood. When he fell to the floor, Jinyoung removed the binding spell, bending down to take care of Kai.
“Kai are you okay?!” he said.
Kai just grinded his teeth, letting out groans of pain, holding onto his arm. The cut was deep. Almost the entire knife had been stabbed through. There was so much blood, Jinyoung didn’t know what to do.
“Kai, can you get up!? Kai we need to move from here, hurry!” Jinyoung urged.
The man from their tribe saw all this happen, but was too late to help them as he was fighting other men.
“You kids need to get out of here! Hurry! Go!” he said.
“But!-” Jinyoung started but was cut off.
“Quickly!! Just get the hell out of here! I shall take care of these bastards.”
Jinyoung lifted Kai, and they ran off to find somewhere safe to be. Kai was able to run as well, but was in immense pain, especially since he was so young.
Meanwhile, at the front of the village, Jimin was slaughtering the Powhatan tribe. He felt an uncomfortable tang rush up his arm, but paid little attention to it, focusing on the men in front of him. No one who was attacking the front were able to pass through to the village. Not a single person was able to get through Jimin. He was handling all of the men alone. The commander was frowning, knowing that if this continued, they would get nowhere. Jimin was a powerful witch, and it was almost impossible to bring him down. He didn't even look a bit tired, none of his clothes even had a single drop of blood even though there were dismantled bodies everywhere, the color red staining the green of the grass around them.
“When will you end this pointless fighting, commander?” Jimin called out, tauntingly.
“It seems your men are too weak to handle me. Are they all cattle? They seem to love rubbing their faces in the grass.”
The commander snarled, rage bubbling up from within him.
“Shut your filthy mouth, you worthless pig! You have yet to witness to full force of the Powhatan tribe!” he said.
“Ah, yes! Please send me your strongest cows! I’ll make sure to milk them dry! If they’re good, I might even pay a hefty coin for them!” Jimin grinned.
At that, the men charged once again, Jimin removing their limbs with ease. Suddenly, two men came over to the commander, holding two children in their arms. One was bound up by the arms, his mouth tied with a cloth. The other was unconscious, his arm dripping large amounts of blood.
“Who are these boys?” the commander asked.
“They claim to be the sons of the powerful witch you are going up against.” one of the men said.
The commander smiled a sinister smile, an idea popping up in his head. He grabbed the unconscious boy by the hair and dragged him out, right where Jimin could see him.
“How about a counter offer, you swine! How much for this flea?” he said, lifting Kai up with one hand.
Jimin’s eyes widened as soon as they fell on his son. Kai looked beaten up, an alarming amount of blood staining his arm.
“What have you done to him!” He called out, angry.
“Oh, so you do know this insect then! Hahaha! Well then, I guess the price is a bit large, is it not?” the commander said.
“Let him go this instant or I swear I will KILL YOU ALL!” Jimin said, crushing the bodies of 6 men, all at once, without touching them. The men yelped in pain as their bones folded with a crunch, their bodies hitting the floor with a thud, their eyes darkening as the life left their bodies.
“Oh, why the sudden anger? Is this insect..perhaps….your son?” the commander grinned.
Jimin scowled at him, getting closer to him.
“Ah ah ah….stay right where you are, or I rip the head off of him.”
Jimin didn’t move, worrying for his son’s safety.
“Give yourself up, and we’ll let the boys go.”
Jimin’s eyes widened again. “Boys?”
The commander nodded behind him, and the other man brought out a squirming Jinyoung, tied up, unable to speak. Jimin glared at the commander, his eyes glistening a darker shade, his fists whipping up more witchcraft as they trembled with rage.
“Well would you look at that. A swine is reunited with his vermin sons! How disgusting.”
“I promise you commander, if you do anything more to them, you will regret the day you were born.” Jimin said, gritting his teeth.
“Let us not be too hasty. All you have to do is tell us where the rest of the village is. My men have already attacked from behind, and we know only the fighters remain. Where are they all hiding?” the commander asked.
“I’ll never tell you.” Jimin said.
The commander pulled out his knife, reaching over to Jinyoung and cutting down the side of his cheek, the boy wailing behind his binds.
“Stop this instant!” Jimin yelled.
“All you have to do is say their location. Then I promise to give the boys back to you.” the commander said, holding a hand over his heart.
Kai slowly opened his eyes, pain shooting through his body, realizing he was still hanging in the air. “Ahhhh!” he screamed.
“Kai!” Jimin yelled, worry evident in his tone.
“Ah, good morning flea.” the commander said. “Let’s see how much of a flea you are.”
He threw him hard down onto the ground, Kai curling up in pain on the grass.
“Jinyoung was squirming and kicking, trying to get away to help Kai. He was so frustrated and angry that even though he had his witch powers, he could not lift a finger to help his brother.
Jimin was boiling with anger. He knew that if he didn’t say anything to the commander about the rest of the village’s whereabouts, his sons would pay the price. He assessed the situation further, and was silently planning an opening to grab his sons.
“AHAHA! Look! His head is also in the grass! Look at him curl up on the floor like a worm!” the commander said, laughing at Kai writhing in pain on the ground.
“Dad!” Kai managed to yell out.
When the commander kicked him on the side, Kai let out a desperate scream, Jimin feeling the pain in his ribs. At this, Jimin’s eyes narrowed, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his worry. Immediately he lifted his arm and let out a chant, the symbol on his wrist glowing brighter, a soft mist forming around the bodies of the men around him. The warriors were confused, looking down as the mist slowly climbed up their bodies. The commander was too preoccupied laughing at Kai, that he didn’t notice Jimin inching closer, the mist spreading around the area.
“Wait, what is he doing?” one of the warriors said.
At this, the commander looked up, finally noticing the mist around his men’s bodies, including his own. Before he could say anything, Jimin’s glowing eyes darkened, finishing the chant. The mist around the men turned heavy, the men’s skin sizzling. They all yelped and grunted, rubbing at their bodies, some grasping their face as their eyes burned with pain. Their skin turned red, opening in various places, blood oozing out. It was as if acid were cutting through their bodies, unbelievable pain forming at the affected areas. The commander was quick to act, ignoring his pain, getting on a horse and leaving the area. Jimin grabbed his sons, who were not affected by the mist since he put a barrier around them right before he cast the spell.
“Kai! Kai, can you hear me?! Jinyoung! Come here!” Jimin said, ripping off Jinyoung’s binds, telling him to hold onto his back as he lifted Kai in his arms, and ran off towards the village.
“Dad-” Kai said, weeping in pain and relief as he felt finally safe.
“It’s okay, Kai. I have you now. Don’t worry, son.”
Jimin made it back to the village, telling the men to keep an eye out for anyone who tries to enter the front. He noticed that others were fighting some who had come through the back, and ignored the dead bodies of his comrades laying around as he carried his sons to a random tent, hidden away enough from the main conflict outside. Jimin put both of them down, telling Jinyoung to help him wrap Kai’s wounds. Jinyoung obeyed, and Jimin chanted something, Kai’s rapid breathing immediately subsiding, taking a more peaceful tempo.
“What just happened, dad?” Jinyoung asked, voice wobbling in worry.
Jimin smiled with reassurance.
“I just took away his pain, so he doesn’t go mad.”
Jinyoung placed his forehead to his brother’s, a common gesture that happened when expressing worry for one another in their tribe. Jimin smiled at his sons and finished tending to Kai’s wounds, then wiping away at the blood on Jinyoung’s cheek.
“Dad, don’t worry about me, i’m f-”
“Resisting me is futile,” Jimin interjected,”I love you way too much to ignore this cheek.”
Jinyoung softly smiled, appreciating that his dad showed concern even when Kai was way worse off than he was.
Suddenly there were loud noises outside, men yelling warnings. Jimin knew the men had been overwhelmed by a rush of powhatan men, or other nearby tribes that had merged. He told his sons to stay in the tent, and to not make a single sound until he came back to get them. Jimin placed a barrier around them, hoping this time that they would stay inside it.
“Dad, i’ll protect Kai, I promise.” Jinyoung said.
Jimin smiled down at him, and rushed outside to help the men outside.
For what felt like forever, Jinyoung was standing ready to attack anyone who dared enter the barrier, trying to attack. He was listening intently to the noises outside, the screams of the men who were dying on both sides, the sound of something travelling through the wind letting him know that his dad was giving it his all. Jinyoung was almost afraid of what his dad could do, but couldn’t help but be curious at what was possible for himself to achieve. Just then, a figure walked around the tent they were in, Jinyoung ready for it. The figure circled a few times then stood still, looking directly at him through the tent. Jinyoung couldn’t see who it was, but he could feel the malicious intent. Without a sound, the figure walked straight through the barrier, not being at all affected, scaring the living hell out of him. Who was this person? Jinyoung backed up, already conjuring up an attack as the figure passed right through the walls of the tent like a ghost. The figure was a man, dressed in dark clothing, a cloth covering the bottom half of his face, His dark eyes sending shivers up Jinyoung’s spine.
“Who are you!? What do you want!?” Jinyoung said as he attacked.
The attack was blocked by whatever the man had in his hand, a relic of somesort. The man said nothing and instead inched forward slowly, looking directly into Jinyoung’s eyes, sending another shiver up his spine. He then looked towards Kai, who was out cold on the floor.
“No!” Jinyoung said as he made another attack, this time aiming for the man’s head.
The man blocked the attack, but Jinyoung lifted a nearby rock that was probably used as a hammer in the tent, and chucked it directly at the man’s head, masking it first by an attack to his face with dirt as a smoke screen. The rock hit, making the man grunt and turn back to Jinyoung. He walked over slowly, avoided all his attacks, and grabbed harshly at Jinyoung’s neck. Jinyoung grasped hard at the man’s wrist, struggling to breathe as the man tightened his grip.
“Ack! Let….me...go!”
The man continued to stay silent as he now raised Jinyoung off the ground by his neck as if he were as light as a feather. Jinyoung scratched at the man’s hand, kicking and squirming, tears forming at his eyes. He coughed a few times, desperately trying to suck in some air, but to no avail. He started feeling dizzy and white spots were clouding his vision. The tightness in his chest hurt like a bitch and in those few moments, Jinyoung was hoping his dad would feel the danger he was in. With one last kick, Jinyoung’s eyes closed. The man waited for his limbs to stop moving before he let him fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He then walked over to Kai, lifting the boy from the ground and hanging him over his shoulder.
Meanwhile on the battlefield, Jimin was attacking at full force with the warriors of his tribe, striking down any enemy he saw. He was focused on taking them out quickly, so that he could go check on the rest of his village. Suddenly he felt a tightness in his chest, and a gut wrenching feeling, making him turn back to look at the direction of the tent his sons were in. He yelled out to one of the warriors from his tribe, saying he had important matters to attend to, giving him orders to stand their ground. The warrior nodded, relaying the message. Jimin then ran full speed towards the tent, a bit relieved to see the barrier was still up, but noticing it had been tampered with. He rushed in and his heart dropped at seeing Jinyoung on the floor, red marks already forming around his neck, Kai nowhere to be seen. He rushed over to Jinyoung, cradling him in his arms, worry evident on his face.
“Jinyoung….?!” Jimin said, listening for life out of his son.
Jinyoung’s breath was weak, but he was still alive. Jimin could not believe this. Who had come into their tent? Who could have passed the powerful barrier he had set up? Where was Kai? All these questions flooded his head as he was coming up with a plan for how to proceed, so he didn’t realize Jinyoung slowly squirming in his arms.
“Nnn...d-dad….” Jinyoung said weakly.
At that, Jimin stopped all thinking, his focus turning to his son.
“Jinyoung, my boy, are you okay? What happened? Can you hear me?”
Jinyoung’s breathing picked up, suddenly squirming and grasping at his dad’s shirt.
“Jinyoung! It’s fine! I’m here! Shh.” Jimin said trying, to calm him down.
“H-he took…..” Jinyoung said, coughing as he spoke.
“Hey, calm down, breathe, boy.”
Jinyoung took a breath, not letting go of his father’s shirt.
“That man…..he….Kai.”
“Who?! Who took him!?”
“I didn’t see….his face.”
“He did this to you?”
Jinyoung nodded. “He had a relic, and dark….clothing and a mask…”
“It’s okay, son. Rest now. Try not to speak so much if it hurts. I’m bringing you with me.” Jimin said, lifting Jinyoung onto his back, Jinyoung wrapping his hands around his father’s shoulders.
“We need to find Kai. As soon as possible.”
Jimin could only imagine the worst, but tried to keep calm for Jinyoung’s sake. If he couldn’t find Kai, and if the Powhatan men had taken him, who knows what they might do to him.
Jimin didn’t want to think about it, but he knew the possibility of Kai becoming the chief’s toy was very likely. Now he had more problems. He had to save the village. He had to save his family. He had to protect the warriors. He had to find Kai.
So inspired by a certain Auf Weidersehen Sweetheart i have been writing this it is another gerita Story but this time set in the most Famous internment camp Auschwitz my family history also helped me write this as my family was imprisoned there so I felt the urge to write this tale of Forbidden love at a time when homosexuality was punishable by death feedback would be aprecciated
I hear the train tracks rattling and clinking those condemning notes as we are lead closer and closer to whatever fate has in store for us, the Italian Jewish community of Geneva once a proud and happy people free to run wherever we wished and play in the beautiful valleys nearby now we are like cattle shoved in shoulder to shoulder though with each other no room to move or sit down, truthfully I shouldn’t be here though here I am being treated like these people for rebelling and helping them after all they are humans too in my mind even though I was raised in a Catholic home by my grandfather and older brother till my capture and subsequent sentencing I clutch my roserary beads around my kneck praying to god that this is just a nightmare that i am really asleep at home warm in my bed
But a baby wails nearby bringing me back to the reality at hand I know there is no escaping the reality I am in I hear the mother desperately try to hush it knowing there is nothing she can do to comfort her little one I can’t remember how long we’ve been stuck in here hours days or even a week all I know is my throat is so parched and my legs beg for me to sit down and relieve them of the burden of the weight of my lanky body, eventually the clicking of the trains wheels lull me into an unrestful slumber.
As the days wear on the stench of urine and feces is overwhelming I know people must’ve died by now from starvation I try to at least turn my most assuredly gaunt face to look around when suddenly the train lurches coming to a sudden stop we heard yelling and shouting and something cracking a feminine voice shouting in German
“Laufen Sie Jude laufen”
Those of us left winced as the train door was thrown open with a bang and bright sunlight rushed into the dark space before my eyes could adjust I was grabbed and thrown out of the train car roughly by a German soldier the stench was even worse out here then in the train car I watched as the others were treated in the same manner , I was roughly shoved and forced forward a German woman yelled at me in German I couldn’t understand what she was yelling but I got the message pretty clearly when the butt of her gun slammed into my back
“Run”
So I did so following the others we were quickly herded into the camp a man stood at the top of the podium pointing either left or right however when he looked at me he yelled for me to be pulled out of line I did not know why I saw his crystal blue eyes go down my form only when he spotted my rosary beads around my neck did he nod as if confirming something
“I know a better way to deal with zis one take him to the brothel have him cleaned for our female officers they ought to enjoy a male patron to have their way with“
My eyes widened hearing this before I could protest though I was roughly grabbed and dragged off through the camp by another female guard the stench of rotting corpses and human waste was overpowering making my stomach twist and turn roughly to where I honestly thought I was going to throw up from the smell.
Eventually she lead me to what looked like a Parisian Building only on a much smaller scale I watched as she yanked the door open and shoved me through said door making me trip and end up on the floor I heard the door slam roughly behind me then a voice suddenly said
“Well looks like Francis won’t be the only male to be a sexual object to do as woman desire “
I looked up to see a brown haired woman standing over me and just like the officer before she studied me closely hazel eyes going over my gaunt starved frame
“Hmmm Red hair blue eyes slender but soft face and Doe like eyes no wonder they chose you Mr ?” she paused to ask as she continued to circle around me in a way that reminded me of the vultures my grandpa told me about in his stories of the American Wild West
“Um Vargas Feliciano Vargas “ I manage to respond in a broken voice which cracked due to not being used and that fact I hadn’t had a drink in days
She turned to another female who was staring at me with bright blue eyes full of curiosity
“Melia go and get some water for this man please “
I watched the woman nod and run to presumably the kitchen as the other one helped me up and into a nearby chair
“Um excuse me miss “ I managed to say through a cracked voice
“Elizabeth Lizzy for short”
I nodded as the other girl Melia returned with the water which i gratefully drank
“thank you “
“it’s no problem I may have been shot down but I have seen plenty of new comers to understand what barbaric treatment they bestowed upon you guys” she replied
I smiled
“I aprecciate it a lot however, is this really a brothel?” I questioned
I heard Lizzy sigh and she nodded
“yes unfortunately but we get better treatment then rthe others warm foods comfortable beds a bathroom and a kitchen so long as we allow them to have their way with us, healthy prostitutes amount to happy soldiers but tonight you won’t have to worry with your train coming in they’ll be entertained by the torture and dehumanization of those poor souls “
“Oh “ I managed to say
“Don’t worry Feliciano it’s not so bad once you get into the swing of things the days will wear on and it’ll begin to feel like a dream “she tried comforting me
I sighed and nodded condemning myself to this fate I know I could be worse off then now and so I don’t really mind but she diid startle me as she clapped her hands together and said
“now then let’s get you cleaned up follow me to the bathroom “
She got up and made her way to the stairs I followed close behind, I had a strange feeling that soon my life would really forever change.
She was raised by both France and England and considers them both to be her fathers. She was officially discovered by Persians, and discovered by Europeans by Portugal. However, it should be noted that Portugal did not stick around long, and she changed hands between France and England several times before becoming an official English colony in 1901.
Because of her hopping about from nation to nation, she has a hard time trusting- after all, both France and England have used her. She still loves them, though- there is absolutely nothing to hint that the Sesel people have anything against either of these nations. In fact, they rely on French and English military, education systems, and law. It is because of English college programs that literacy has risen so high in recent years.
While Sey is Catholic, the religions of her people are rather diverse. The majority, however, are predominately Catholic. Despite this, unwed couples are the norm.
Sey’s matriarchal society ensures a complete lack of discrimination in the work place. All men are required to pay for any children they have fathered, and women make the decisions as well as lead in councils and most government. Men are respected, but are considered to be only of economic value.
No same-sex marriages are recognized by the Sesel government. While female homosexuality is legal, male homosexuality is illegal and can be punished by up to 14 years in prison. However, it is extremely rare that these laws are enforced, and as the age progresses citizens are more and more accepting. In the past, people would simply refuse to talk about homosexuality, and gays kept to themselves. Now, that is changing.Sey herself has no problem with homosexuality, being a nation, but she does feel uncomfortable inviting gay couples to her home, for fear of any awkwardness that may ensue.
She is about 17 physically, but is anywhere from 1000 to 500 years old, depending on where you consider the birth of a ‘nation’.Remember, the Persians discovered her centuries before Portugal did in 1501.
She began to rebel from her father after WWII, when England no longer had money to send her for food- the islands of Seychelles are not self-efficient. Her people starved, and many left her home to seek riches on the main coast of Africa in a Great Exodus. Many did not survive. After this, she realized that if she ever wished to survive, she had to learn to be independent and make her own trades. At first, England thought she was simply being a ‘teenager’, but allowed her her own councils and small government- but in 1976, England and Seychelles signed a mutual agreement allowing Seychelles to become a free republic while still belonging in the Commonwealth.
As stated before, however, both the English and French continue to invest in Sey’s well being, through educational and economical trade and influence, as well as tourism.
