Hermitcraft Oneshots and AUs (Season VI And VII) ((FIN))

angst-Please don't tell anyone.

(WARNING. PASTDEPRESSED PRESENTANOREXIC WELS INCOMING. ALSO CHILD ABUSE.)

Third Person

Wels leaned over the toilet, vomiting.

His helmet lay discarded to the side.

Some of his hair dangled in a way you couldn't see his eyes.

He could recall the first time he ever did this. His coach and father had been yelling at him again for being unfit and to fat to hold a sword properly. He had been 11.

And that night he had forced himself to throw up his meal. His father didn't notice. He had no mother.

Nobody ever cared. And so began a grueling routine. Don't have a breakfast, eat a small lunch, eat dinner then throw it up.

It had stayed with him through his teenage years. Then he continued doing it into adulthood. At this point it was part of his routine.

It was a toxic habit. But he wasn't aware of this.

He also wasn't aware of the incoming storm. He gagged and finally dragged himself to his feet, his throat sore from using his hand to make himself throw up.

Wels reached for his helmet and pulled it on. He glanced at his buzzing communicator and walked slowly over to it.

Flipping it open, he looked at the rest of the hermits discussing a incoming hurricane. The plan was for everyone to go to TFC's. And so he left his house, heading to TFC's bunker.

As he glided through the air, he mentally ratted down on himself.

Maybe he should start skipping lunch? Or hold it off until later in the day so it comes up with dinner?

He'll do that, he decided. Nobody would notice.

They had no reason! He was just getting fit.

Right? Right.

Feet hitting the ground, Wels began walking to TFC's little hut. Stress landed nearby and she waved at him cheerfully, also heading to TFC's hut.

Wels dramatically waved for Stress to go first "Lady's first." A grin spread across the ice queens face "Same old Wels!" She headed down the ladder, and Wels followed.

They walked into the large area TFC had set up, beds absolutely EVERYWHERE. In the walls, in the floors, on the ground, some where upside down on the ceiling (?).

It was strange. And confusing. Mostly confusing. Who on earth was going to sleep on the ceiling?

Then there was hermits scattered everywhere. The entire server minus maybe Joe was there.

Laughing, talking, playing games, then the food.

So. Much. Food.

It seriously stressed Wels out. It was really tempting, but he couldn't.

He didn't want anyone to catch him throwing up. If they did, they would try and make him eat. He didn't want to be fat again.

Searching for a empty bed, he found one in the corner next to the only other empty bed. Stress wandered off, and he simply pulled his helmet and laid down, trying to go to sleep.

His eyes closed, and the exhausted from malnutrition hermit passed out.

---Hi again---