Stray Kids Ship Oneshots (BOOK 2 !)

126-Minsung: Our Gods

Title: Our Gods

Ship: Minsung

A/N this is actually based off the game I've been playing a lot recently lmao. It's called Godhood if you want to see where the inspiration came from.

But on that note, all the religions mentioned in this story are made up and it's placed in a made up timeline and setting. It's not meant to be offensive in anyway and if it came off that way I apologize.

This isn't really edited so I apologize for that in advanced too.

TW: Implications of self harm and religious trauma

—

"Jisung, be quiet."

  Jisung looked up at his mother with his mouth shut. He watched her in wonder from the kitchen table. She hovered over the window, watching precariously.

  "Aish." She grabbed a bag that had been put off to the side and gestured for Jisung to do the same.

  This wasn't Jisung's first move. He was nearly twenty and he was sure he's moved more than his age could count. He had known nothing but war and blood spilling outside his doorstep. If they didn't move, it'd be their turn. They'd die and they wouldn't move on to paradise. They hadn't reached that respect. Not yet.

  Jisung grabbed his bag and followed his mother out the back door. He kept his head down and followed his mother's feet. He could hear the screams and war cries among the village as they slaughtered any who dare opposed them.

  World hunger was coming. That was what they taught them. If they didn't spill blood of non believers and the unfit for their god, they'd starve. They wouldn't survive.

  "No!" His mother suddenly screamed. "Jisung, run!"

  Jisung didn't hesitate to turn around and dash away. He didn't turn back to see if his mother had followed. He would find her later. His mind was focused on survival. Get out. Get to safety. Hide.

  So Jisung ran. He ran until he couldn't feel his feet anymore and the only thing he could hear was the leaves crunching underneath his feet. Ejun would protect him, surely. He had repented too many times to count. He had to protect him.

  Jisung finally couldn't stand the pain in his legs and fell to his knees. He let his bag of food rations fall to his side as he heaved.

  He looked back. His mother hadn't followed. If she did, she had lost him.

  Jisung found himself leaning into the ground, laying his covered body on the ground. His animal skin clothing kept him warm in the humid air. He tried to control his breathing, but he was too tired to really try. His eyes were beginning to close on him. He needed to stay awake, he needed to wait for his mom.

  The dirt was soft, barely damp to stick to his skin. The big leaves of the bushes surrounding him gave him just the right shade to let him rest his eyes. This place hadn't been over run by his disciples yet. Perhaps he would be safe.

  In the end, he couldn't stay awake. His body failed him and his eyes shut.

—

  Jisung woke to somebody roughly pulling at his arm to stand. They shouted into his ear. They had too thick of an accent for Jisung to understand in his tired state. Not to mention the darkness of the sky, the only light being the full moon. But he stood and tried to make out their words.

  It was two men, both of a completely different culture from what Jisung could tell. They didn't cover their bodies like they did where he was from. They wore white silk, skirt-shorts that covered their bottom halves and some shoulder skirt that covered some of their chests and their shoulders. They both had some type of yellow anklet that reminded Jisung of the sun. The one staring him down wore extra jewelry of colored beads around his face and wrists. He must of have been important.