This one will have a heck of a lot of trigger warnings because I'm doing a research project in my English class about the history of the pink triangle. My teacher is so welcoming and actually asks questions instead of being bigoted or hateful and I love her.

TW:// Concentration Camps, WWII, Homophobia, You Get The Gist

STORYTIME!

Logan wore his uniform and armed himself proudly, or at least in a bravado of Pride, staying at his station at the gate. None of these defects were allowed to leave the camp, and nobody was allowed in unless Logan's supervisors made him aware of their arrival. Logan worked the gate because nobody could persuade him, nobody could move him, and nobody could change him. He was the stone cold man who was the warden to the prison behind him. All who go in die, after all. The gas house was just over yander.

"You are just as emotionless as they say, aren't you?" 

He was back. Logan barely gave him a sideways glance. He was the most interesting case inside the camp for the mentally ill. He bore two triangles rather than one, which made him twice as repulsive. He had a bushy mustache and well built arms. He wore an upside down pink triangle on his left breast, signifying his homosexuality, and an upside down triangle on his right breast, signifying his work as a prostitute. Normally the upside down brown triangle was a symbol of lesbianism and sex work, however this man was the only male sex worker. Nobody had ever seen anyone as mentally disturbed and sick as this man. Why did he come to talk to Logan every day? Wouldn't he be whipped? He needs to be punished for this behavior.

"Still not going to talk to me? Well, I'll get you to crack some day or another. They always crack, and you're no exception."

Logan refuses to speak to him yet again. The horns wailed and the sirens went off as another round of Jews were gassed to death. Those with yellow stars on their clothes were to be burned today, that was on the schedule. Logan made no change in facial expression, however his fist slightly clenched by the side of his leg. These people were disgusting, mentally disturbed freaks. Or that was all that he was told. Or that was all he was allowed to learn. This was still mass murder and genocide of human beings. That was what was truly disgusting. The prostitute somehow managed to notice Logan's moment of weakness.

"You don't like what you're doing here, do you big guy?"

Logan did not waver, and he wasn't supposed to move at all. He was the unmovable soldier who guarded the gate. Nobody goes in, nobody goes out. Nobody could make him flinch nor falter. He was the stone-faced soldier that all were scared of entering his camp. Even so... Logan had to shake his head no. He hated what he was doing. He was aiding in the murders of those who simply lived a different lifestyle than he, and that is dispicable. He had no choice, this was the only life he ever known. He must remain loyal to his country. He can't flee, it's too late to back out now. Logan's skin began to crawl, but he was unable to move. He wasn't supposed to. He cannot move, he cannot speak, he cannot do anything unless either provoked by violence or ordered to by his supervisor. The man with two triangles laughed, sitting down on the hard filthy ground with crossed legs.

"I thought so. Only someone with a sick, twisted mind would actually enjoy killing people in a cruel manner such as this. It's easier than just plunging knives in all of our chests and better than just killing us in the streets, but I prefer to stay alive thank you very much. Hey! I have an idea! I have a story, do you wanna hear it? Don't move If you wanna hear my story!"

Logan didn't move. If he was entirely honest he was intrigued by whatever means of storytelling this homosexual man could give him. So Logan didn't move, Logan didn't smile, and Logan didn't say a word. This man grinned nice and wide, as Logan saw out of the corner of his eye. Why did his heart skip a beat when he saw him smile? He had never felt anything like it, not even for the woman who was to be his wife once he returns home from this dreadful place.

"Once upon a time there was a Soldier, a Poet, and a King. The soldier carried a spear in his hand, the poet a lyre, and the king a mighty axe. Who is the most powerful? Who is the least powerful? The answer seems so simple, King, Soldier, Poet. In reality it's just as I said it earlier. The Soldier, the Poet, the King. A Poet can spark rebellion, and a Soldier can carry out whatever duty is to be done. But a King? He can hardly defend himself against a mass of soldiers once they have a cause. So the soldier did. With the words of the poet striking something in his soul, he gathered his comerades and he rebelled against the king. A thousand lances will easily fall a might axe, no matter the power. Endurance always runs out, and a tyrant will always fall."

Logan didn't expect him to say something so profound. He expected a silly, fantastical story. Logan licked the front of his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything or conveying any sort of emotion towards his words. He was quite right. The prisoner laughed when he saw he got some sort of reaction out of the gatekeeper to the Concentration Camp.

"I knew you'd like that story! My Father told me the very same one just before he was drafted for war when I was a young boy. He never returned home, of course, leaving my poor brother and I to fend for ourselves and fend for both our mother and little sister, but he was the serious type like you! What's your name, Mister Gatekeeper? Or are you not allowed to speak a word to scumbag degenerate arsefucker like myself? That's what the pink triangle means, yeah? The brown one is for asocials but I heard it's also used for lesbians and prostitutes. I'm a fun nasty individual aren't I?"

In the very least, this man was quite peculiar. Logan didn't know why but he found that intriguing. He hated it when he would try to strike conversation, because Logan always wanted to talk to him out of curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but would it kill the soldier? Logan hypothesized that the answer was no, however he was so tempted to share his name with this disgusting filth that can barely be called a human being in the eyes of society; in the eyes of his supervisors in the eyes of the government.

"Logan."

He spoke. He spoke and he wasn't supposed to say a word. There was a spike of adrenaline through Logan's entire being, yet he wasn't allowed to move not even a millimeter from his post until ordered to. Logan's stone cold face flushed a deep crimson ruby, he was so ashamed of himself. He spoke to a prisoner, a pink triangle of all people! That in itself was a sin! Logan bit his tongue and watched from the corner of the eye as the man's mustache twisted with his smile and his eyes gleamed of freshly stirred chocolate soon to be made into a mother's Fudge. So warm, inviting, yet piquing the interest of all the young ones.

"So he actually speaks? How wonderful! Your name is Logan? Fun! Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. Your secret's safe with your precious Doll Boy Remus~"

It just occurred to Logan that he had never learned this man's name before. But that didn't matter. The insult and nerve of this man to call himself Logan's Doll Boy? Absurd! Preposterous! Never! Logan's face was red and his hands went to his weapon, easy to smack the man through the fence with the back of his gun. He would never dare shoot, for he wasn't a monster, but any insult an inhumane monster like him would have towards a soldier of Germany must not go with impunity. The man held up his hands in defense and laughed again, as if the thought of Logan physically abusing him like all the other soldiers at this damn camp amused him somehow.

"Okay okay! So you don't like the idea of me being a Doll Boy. Or just Doll Boys in general. They get soldiers like you punished and/or killed when found out, right? I wouldn't risk your life over some petty joke. I'm not that indecent or a human being. Just indecent enough to find myself in this dump with two triangles, one for each man-tit."

Logan relaxed his stance, returning his arms to his sides and turning back around. His back was to Remus and he returned to standing as if he had never moved at all. It was almost robotic. But there was something different: the crack of a smile tugging at the slightest corner of his lip. Another sound rang and Remus sprung to his feet, running off without barely saying a good bye to Logan. Logan didn't mind. Remus wouldn't be severely hurt if he missed roll call for mealtime. If prisoners don't eat they get beaten nearly to death. Logan remained at his post, just like always. But maybe just maybe he could look forward to seeing that interesting man again...

1563 Words

It's kinda late at night but I really wanted to get this one out to you today. I know it's a very heavy oneshot in Topic but I tried to make it as lighthearted as possible. But I can PROMISE this will be a THREE ONESHOT ORDEAL with the next setting being the Stonewall riots and the one after that either being present day or the AIDS crisis, all Intrulogical allowing these very same souls.

The lesson? Learn. Learn from history so we don't repeat it. Guess what the war for LGBTQIA+/GRSM rights is a repeat of? POC rights and Women's Rights. It's all the same war repeated over and over for different groups of people. It's verh stupid to see that people can't just accept people, but the need to feel superiority and the need to be selfish exists in humans. So learn from that, be selfless and be humble, and accept everyone for who they are. Let's not start another war on another group of people for or something they couldn't ever control in the first place. Like being born a certain race, a certain sex, a certain gender, a certain sexuality, or whatever. Learn from history. That's my lesson for you today. That's why I wrote this oneshot after all :)

Internet hugs and blow kisses!

~Eva/Remus