Hermitcraft One-Shots

Jealousy Fuel PT. 2 [Hels]

i didnt mean to write this but oh well here it is

Word Count: 2061 words
Category: hurt/comfort without the hurt
Warnings: none?

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It was days later when the jealousy started to die down. The entire time Hels sulked in his makeshift living space, biting his tongue to avoid screaming and crossing his limbs to not punch a hole into the wall.

Eventually, the Nether-born sat upright and looked around, clenching the sheets of his bed with tight fists (he never sleeps, he just lays in it. Learned the hard way when he was younger). His eyes settled on a spot in the corner of the room. His dirty (mostly bloodied) netherite armor lay discarded, and he vaguely wondered if he could clean it with lava.

With a silent grunt, Hels ran a hand through his black hair, letting it fall over his shoulders. The knight recalled a time in his past when he dyed the tips red... they still are because he hasn't cut it since then.

Hels shrugged and staggered to his feet, mildly contemplating the meaning of life and considering slamming his head against the wall.

There was nothing else to do, nothing was stopping him from doing so.

Except that knocking at the door, but he was just ignoring it-

Knocking?

Someone found him. Oh for Notch's sake some Hermit found him, he's going to be banned for eternity, he's gonna get beat up, he's-

"Uh... Hels? You here?" an uncertain and familiar voice asked. Frick it was Wels. Of all people, it was his counterpart that was going to end him. Hels looked around for a possible escape if it was needed. Screw fighting, his current state would instantly send him to respawn. He didn't even have his armor on.

The Nether-born scowled, realizing the counterpart was waiting for an answer. The light knight hadn't left, knowing Hels definitely was here. Hels wrinkled his nose and crawled back into his bed, pulling the covers close.

"... No," he finally answered. A soft chuckle followed from outside, pulling a hiss from Hels. "What do you want, are you here to kill me?"

"...What? Why would I kill you?" Wels received no answer. His eyebrows lowered in concern. "Are you alright?" He pushed the door open, eyeing the messily organized living space. His eyes fell on the curled form in the bed, his back to the door.

"I'm fine," the dark knight hissed through clenched teeth. Why does he care?

"Did I... did I hurt you badly?" Why does he sound concerned?

"No. I said I'm fine." Hels could almost feel the frown on Wels' face. After a few silent moments, Wels sighed.

"... Alright, I'll just leave this here." A shulker box (or so he assumed) was plopped down somewhere in the living room, and a trail of footsteps led itself out, fading in the distance.

Hels debated checking it out or not. There wasn't enough time to trap it unless Wels had time-stopping superpowers. The worse that could happen is some weird item in the box... he didn't know, Wels was weird sometimes. He once ate a diamond shovel popsicle thing, Hels has his reasons to judge.

With a heavy sigh, the knight dragged himself out of bed again and wearily approached the box. His hand hovered over the lid, before he muttered a 'screw it' and kicked it open.

A healing potion, extra food, random blocks and tools...

Is Wels a stalker of some sort? Hels needed every item in the box. The knight grumbled under his breath, reluctantly taking the box and its contents.