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stray-tori · 7 months

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tangential link click thoughts - is it wrong to be selfish if you have (a) power?

S2 finale spoilers ||

So, initially I was kind of in the boat of "oh LG is directly going against LC's initial themes" and was thus convinced that the show will have to make him fail, or it would break its own themes.

I still stand by that somewhat, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like this tied into thoughts of privilege and existence that I've been struggling with myself.

I felt like I had to help people because I could, even though I didn't enjoy doing the work. So I quit eventually, because I dreaded going to the volunteer work. Was that selfish of me? Is it right to quit doing something good because it's "uncomfortable"? Clearly the people I'd be helping have far bigger worries than discomfort, after all.

And to bring this back to Link Click - Time travel plots are often quite selfish in nature, but (the ones I've seen) are usually with smaller casts where "how many lives they could save" isn't really a focus, unless you think about it yourself.

Link Click doesn't have that luxury by virtue of it initially focusing so much on other people's lives. So, why would LG get to have things he wants but others cannot?

I'm not blaming LG btw or saying this is bad writing by itself; just that if the SHOW sides with him on this, that would feel wrong or need proper writing around it.

But then again, if you replace time travel with something less supernatural... like, in a sense existence is always unfair and some will always have the power to resist bad circumstances more than others (through power, money, etc.) and if you CAN live the way you want, is it your duty to give up on that because others don't have the same choices / is it your duty to help others just because you're in the position to?

If the plot was about LG having stacks of money that he could pour into saving CXS, would that feel wrong too? You could say that most people don't have enough money to help everyone, but it's not even like their time travel doesn't cost anything, it costs their own time. So they also literally wouldn't even have the time to save everyone (not to mention the time-based fuckery this would lead to). So should they just help no one? Is it fair to help the people you're attached to but not others you could help?

"it's not your duty to help anyone" is no comfort to the people who suffer. Is that fair then? What about them?

It's entirely my own recent thoughts here, but I think that Link Click, if it wants to have its cake and eat it too (with the LG plot), would be equipped (or at least set up) to tackle these sorts of questions and themes.

For context, I don't think they'd have to justify this plot if their initial focus wasn't so broad and humane and about moving on, personally.

I hope this made sense ;-;

#link click s2 #link click #shiguang dailiren #shiguang dailiren s2 #sgdlr s2 #link click s2 spoilers #sgdlr s2 spoilers #tori has opinions #meta #can you tell i've been thinking Too Much

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1alchemistart · 28 days

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some dunmeshis bc i love them

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #laios touden #marcille donato #farlyn thorden #farlyn touden #laius thorden #laius touden #laois touden #that's right i'm including the misspelling cause i see it a bit too often JSDFKLSDKL #SOON I SHALL POST THE SPOILERY DRAWINGS I'VE BEEN WITHHOLDING.#THIS IS A REMINDER FOR PEOPLE TO TAG THEIR MANGA SPOILERS i read the manga fully but please think of the anime onlies JKSDFKLSD #my art #i love laios v much as you can tell

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bluebirbbb · 1 year

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little arthur malevolent lester portrait because my brain is full of him

#WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I MISSPELLED ARTHUR (edited now)#I KNOW THAT'S AN ESSAY IN THE TAGS BUT I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS #i love him #i need to make him look more pathethic and sad next time #and more scrawny maybe #he's just too presentable #i dont have time for more art recently so have this at least as my little break from uni work #i actually like how it turned out tho #i need to paint more loosely like this in the future #also ive been staring at leyendecker when drawing this can you tell by the shading on the cheek #and yes he has white hairs!!!!#and eyebags and a little bit of wrinkles in the corners of his eyes #i need to draw it better next time but that's how i see the guy #i really want to draw his lighter too because i've been thinking too much about its design and also i want to render some objects #arthur lester #arthur malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fanart #poor sad british man #myartstuff

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nebulouscoffee · 2 years

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Forever thinking about how Terry Farrell literally offered a canon explanation for why the DS9 Trills look so different to the TNG ones, and the writers just... didn't take it? (Basically it was that they were two different races; the spotty Trills are from a northern continent and the bumpy forehead Trills are from a southern continent. That's so fascinating!)

It also raises SO many questions about the other inconsistencies between the two shows, such as why the spotty Trills seem common-knowledge throughout the galaxy (for decades, if Ben and Curzon's friendship is any indication, plus Dax's nostalgia for the Kirk era), yet the TNG crew acts like they've never seen anybody like Odan before. I mean the Trill were supposedly in Starfleet for centuries!

So I have this headcanon that the bumpy forehead Trills are actually a minority? And they're barely adequately represented on the Trill home planet, let alone outside. Maybe they're less capable of hosting symbionts. (Maybe they're just as capable, but it's a widely spread myth that they aren't, so that they'd get fewer symbionts! The Trill Symbiosis Commission has been known to lie to the population lol.) I also like to think at least one of Dax's previous hosts was a bumpy forehead Trill, just because it makes things interesting

#can you tell that I've written a few too many Trill-centric fics #I can't help it they're so interesting!#like this social divide would've been so cool to explore in an episode #and Jadzia would obviously have Thoughts about this #given that the Symbiosis Commission literally tried to kill her that one time #ah the possibilities #I think about Trills too much #ds9

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inkskinned · 1 year

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he had to hurt her like that, look at the cinema he made. did he? how do you know? the ends justify the means, huh. a woman could never actually act this well, it had to be real, a snuff film. yes, she was hired for her talent - but pain will make the talent brighter, right.

he is not alone. there are men around him who think like this. who choose actresses they can manipulate, exert power over. who write scripts that demand the pain be felt. she must hurt to uphold the message.

(an aside. author's note, i guess. in poetry, when the words cannot hold themselves up, we actually blame the writers. it shouldn't matter who speaks the literature. the words should carry their own weight. be their own scaffolding.)

the men in the room all applaud each other for doing less. they say they push boundaries. they're leaders in their field. they ask the hard questions.

when they get your resume, they put it into a pile that they will put into a trashcan. when they get your screenplay, they will use it as a coaster. when they build their museums, they will have a disjointed room dedicated to "repairing" the ways that women and people of color have been eradicated from "fine arts". it will be self-effacing. we may have overlooked some artists, they apologize. but really it's not our fault that white men make better art. (those men and their works are in permanent displays. for more on this, see: the way that he laughs at your work will make you sick to your teeth). in six weeks, their apology will be scrubbed and the room will be scrubbed and all the paintings will go back into storage.

they know they are right. sure, okay. maybe we have had less opportunities. but what would we have done with them? not something like this. it took a man to do this. okay, okay. it was deranged, we can all agree about it. but look at the product.

in your life, when you wake up, isn't it grand. if they made a museum for people like us, it would be a cycle of empty frames. of ruined videos. of songs with a voicecrack. all the little plaques reading some variation of a theme. here is where my work would stand if someone like me could actually get published in this fucking industry. here is the work i tried to make, before my agency was stripped from me. here is the placeholder of my dreams, but i could not afford them in this society.

if you keep walking, out in the greenhouse out back, the whole world is full of color. every fabric and fortuneteller and feverdream we spat out in despite. centuries of brightness, of novelty, of exploration. of talent, of wisdom, of creativity.

there is only one sign here in this alexandrian library. the sign acts like an epitaph. you already know what it says, don't you. THIS ISN'T ART, it tells you.

the blankets. the chef-level 5-course meals. the carefully-colored journal pages. the abandoned works-in-progress. the library of fanfiction. the margin drawings. somewhere in there, an actress makes a face, and you think - oh shit! she's really broken! but then she smiles at you, winking. she could do it, you know. she could always act like a starbeam. it's just that his name is the one scrolling at the bottom. she hadn't wanted to undress for him. she goes home and gets forgotten. in our museum, another blank frame goes up on the wall.

they'll give him an award, looking to the camera with almost an apology. he will laugh ruefully. nobody will do anything. little white strings will drip from his fingers. young boys in film studies will continue to chainsmoke while explaining how beautiful it is that there's violence in those scenes. she couldn't have done it without him pushing, he'll tell you, shrugging.

but what if, you wonder. what if he had never existed? without him, what else could we be making? all that time and love and spirit, allowed back into the light. into knowledge. what has he taken, to give us his art?

and is it a trade worth making?

#spilled ink #warm up #can you tell i've been playing disco elysium #no spoilers please i just started #im on day 2 #i don't think im like GOOD at DE tbh #im like too straightedge and i hate being a cop so the game was like #''why are u so apologetic about being a cop''#and im like BC I FEEL BAD ABOUT BEING A COP!!!!!!#although tbh i would like to. confess my love for my little orange guy #kitsuragi #...... i know he's gay without knowing he is gay. im SO confused about so much about this game but im like #that's a gay man

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thepoisonroom · 5 months

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i know modern dating is a hell because i once went on a date with this lady and when we were about to kiss i pulled back and went "oh sorry i thought we were a vase for a second" and she didn't like that in the least

#i was out there wasting my best material on audiences who were giving me nothing #personal nonsense #i do think my girlfriend gives me credit for being funny when even when i am being earnest which makes me feel very charming #she works in law and when we met i was like oh can i ask you a work-related question #and she was like big sigh assuming i was going to ask for legal advice #and i was like sorry but where do you buy your suits? and she did a very friendly laugh that made me feel super at ease #she was also very nice about it when i got too high and was telling her it makes me anxious that #i can't tell if zoomers who say slay a lot are gay or just very logged on #she was like 'oh i'm sorry for laughing you're just being very darling' and i was like 🥺🥺🥺#sorry for girlfriendposting so much she's just the best partner i've ever been with!

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alektro06 · 1 year

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Luz and Hunter Sibling Headcannons

I am currently obsessed with these two and their sibling dynamic so here is a collection of headcannons I’ve managed to cook up about them;

It annoyed Luz that Hunter was both taller and older than her so whenever she talked about her brother she always called him “Little Bro” just to get on his nerves. That little annoyance spiralled out of control and now nobody believes Hunter when he tries to explain that, in fact, he’s the older sibling.

Hunter is fascinated with sewing and one night he unknowingly sewed up all of Luz’s purposefully ripped jeans. He woke up to a very rude awakening the next day (Luz still wears the jeans though)

Luz forced Hunter to have an Azura Movie Marathon one night, she ended up falling asleep at the beginning of movie 2 but the story enthralled Hunter so much that he ended up finishing the series and cried his heart out at the finale. Now they have a common interest with Hunters newfound respect for the series.

When Hunter started living at the Noceda residence permenantly, he asked Camila what ‘Hermano’ means and why Luz kept calling him that. He cried when he found out what it meant and now calls Luz ‘Hermana’ whenever the opportunity arises.

Whenever Luz falls asleep on the couch or any other precarious place in the house, Hunter picks her up piggyback style and carries her to bed. If you ask him though its ‘for his own conscience’ and no other reason.

Nightmares about Belos still haunt the both of them even in the human realm, so it’s not uncommon for one of them to come over to the others room late at night and ask to sleep there. It’s almost become routine for Camila to go wake up Luz and find her two children cuddled up close in her bed. (She always gives them time to wake up by themselves when that happens)

They steal eachothers clothes all the time. Hunter likes to take Luz’s beanies to hide his ears and Luz steals Hunter’s hoodies because they’re big and comfy.

There is an unspoken agreement between the two siblings that if one of them asks for a hug you give that hug, no questions asked. Sure its Luz asking Hunter for a hug a large majority of the time but the rare moment arises that Hunter asks for one Luz makes sure to make it tight and comforting. Sometimes Luz also asks for a hug when she knows that Hunters had a bad day but is too embarrassed to ask for one himself.

Speaking of hugs, Hunter usually avoids hugs like the plague. This confused Luz at first, thinking that it was some undealt trauma from living with Belos, until she found out that its actually because Hunter deems hugs ‘too comfortable’ and falls asleep every time someone hugs him. Now whenever Luz finds Hunter up too late she attacks him in a hug, knocking him out cold in seconds.

They might act like they hate each other and tease one another in public but if someone else is teasing their sibling then its a whole different story. One time Luz came back home with a bruise on her face after some bully punched her at school, let’s just say that Hunter made very sure it would never happen again.

Luz introduced Hunter to the furry fandom after he started showing interest in Wolves. She ended up drawing him a fursona based on his description (which he thanked her profusely for afterwards) and he keeps it hung up on his wall

#they mean so much to me #can you tell that I've been thinking about this way too much #luz noceda #hunter noceda #luz and hunter are siblings #luz and hunter being siblings makes me want to eat recycled cardboard #sibling #noceda siblings #pittwins #the owl house

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a-s-levynn · 5 months

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"Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me" A Series of Small Offerings - II/12 - day20

#a series of small offerings #sleep token fanart #elaboration on this piece further down in the tags because this one may confuse people i think #(also please note that i firmly believe that the from the room below version of this song is the superior one)#(so the art was made with that version in mind because that is the version that lives rent free in my brain for reasons)#i've been thinking so much how to approach this one.. i knew pretty much since i've made the challenge that i will go with this line #specifically because i refuse to hear it as the lyrics sites and spotify tells me to hear it (as it appears in the post) but instead #i don't hear the 'the' in any version of the song i'm sorry that is just not there #so i'm convinced it is 'as the sky cracks in mourning'#(sky cracking-lightning;sky mourning-rain)#which is also exactly how the song feels to me #being a sad wet cat of a person standing bare feet in a strom and just crying 'why i was i so blind to my own hubris'#specifically in relation of finally (and far too late) understanding you fucked up a relationship so bad it still hurts years after #if you've ever felt anything remotely similar you know what i'm talking about #and you get why i refuse it being 'in the morning' instead of 'in mourning'#vessel i #vessel #vessel sleep token #vessel fanart #sleep token band #sleeptoken #levynn tries to draw #sleep token #edit: i don't mean to offend those who stand behind the line being 'in the morning' btw i just don't hear it #and i don't think i'm correct. i'm correct for me. not in your stead. half the lyrics can be heard at least two ways #edit2: appearently i'm actually right about something for a change.. a truly unusual turn of events #see comments for referrence pls #also edited this post to the correct lyrics #but leaving the tags for context 'cause thw original version of the post has been rb-d before editing i think

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nosferatufaggot · 10 months

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In the universe in which Bruce Wayne and Joker are in a public relationship and are a power couple, I gots some thoughts.

So, Bruce visits Joker in Arkham or whatever. Like brings him flowers or something, I dunno. And someone says something about how they cannot BELIEVE billionaire Bruce Wayne would spend his time with someone who is mentally unstable enough to be in Arkham. Well, said someone's buisness suddenly fails when for some unbeknownst reason, Wayne Enterprises stop financially supporting said buisness.

Some time later, Joker and Bruce are at a gala. Bruce Wayne expierences autism 100 moment and someone goes ableism about it. Just a passing comment. And then after the rich socialite party, maybe two nights after, Joker doesn't kill them, but he sure does psychological torture.

#If you cannot tell by how I wrote this‚ my brain is fried.#It took all my strength not to call Joker 'the Jonker' and I'm proud I didn't.#I do not know WHY I've been thinking about Batjokes so much but I have.#And WHY CAN'T I FIND FICS LIKE THIS? I don't want Batman and Joker smooching!!!! No no no!#What I want is infamous criminal Joker and billionaire with social status Bruce Wayne gay married!#And the press won't leave them alone about it! The news is always telling stories. It's great for Bruce Wayne's cover!#All the headlines think Bruce Wayne is secretly some villain because how else is he gay married to Joker??????#Cuz he. Heem. Him. He's Batman.#And everytime Alfred forces Bruce to go to a gala and network‚ Joker is his date. And all the billionaires are scared out of their brains.#How is everyone so hyped up on the freak nature of Batman and Joker going at it freak style and not THIS?#I get the appeal‚ but this has layers of intriguing in another aspect that I feel isn't explored enough.#AND THERE ARE TOO MANY FANFICTIONS FOR ME TO SORT THROUGH TO FIND SOMETHING LIKE THIS!#And think about it! If Joker lives with Bruce Wayne‚ and everyone knows where Bruce Wayne lives‚ and Joker does some joking...#And Batman goes to handle the situation‚ it would make a REALLY good excuse if anyone notices Batman going into the Wayne residence.#Batman can be like 'Oh no. I'm not here after a long day of crime fighting cuz I live here!!! I'm here to interrogate Joker!'#And then everyone smiles and nods.#autistic Bruce Wayne #Sentiments of a vampire.#batjokes

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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"What is Hels like?" Welsknight asked the darkness in front of him. Darkness, because he ran out of torches ages ago, and the only light he had left was the backlight of his cracked communicator. His cracked communicator, the battery of which, as fate would have it, was rapidly dying, given it hadn’t really been charged all that much when he came down here in the first place. It was still alive, actively pinging his coordinates to any hermit who came within range of the signal, an SOS software designed just for this kind of scenario. But it would die soon. Wels, practical, rational, kept the backlight screen off. The higher the chance of his signal being caught. Without its light though, and without a torch, well, it was dark in the little hole he found himself trapped in. Dark, but not lonely. No, Wels was never truly alone.

"Pathetic." The familiar voice hissed in his ear. "You've given up the fight so quickly this time."

En Garde. Wels took no opening stance. He wasn't looking for a fight today. Wels, rational, patient, never did.

"This situation is beyond my capabilities," Wels explained coolly. "Help will arrive soon. Until then, I thought you might enjoy some small talk."

"Feeling lonely, Wels?" Feint. "Are you scared no one will come for you?"

"My communicator has plenty of life for an SOS," Wels shrugged into the dark. He rested his elbows on his crossed knees, trying to make himself comfortable. It took some fumbling to actually find his knees. Much like the void, the pitch black of a darkened cave was impenetrable. For the time being, it remained a familiar pitch. "Even if it didn't, there's a thousand other ways to find someone who's lost."

The voice didn't answer. Something like frustration, frustration not belonging to Wels, made a home in his chest.

"You told me a little about Hels when we first met." Step safely, the voice in the dark bites, and Wels is sticking his hand in its mouth with every word. The frustration that isn't his seethes quietly. Wels patient, calm, let's it be. It isn't hurting him yet. "It's in the nether, right? But I've been to the nether quite a bit, and I don't think I've ever seen it before."

"You're looking in the wrong places, idiot." Lunge. Aggressive and over-extended. Once again, Wels refuses to engage. "We can add that to your list of personal failings: short-sightedness."

"You said you were a champion there."

"I am."

"Is it a fun place to fight? It's got to be fun, if you did it so much." If it’s all you ever do. Wels winces, but he can't take the thought back. He's made a mistake.

Allez!

"Better to fight than cower in a hole. No wonder they forgot you for half a season. It's your natural state to pretend you don't exist."

"I didn't mean-"

"Backpedaling already, Wels? Have I caught you off-balance? What kind of a knight are you?"

"The kind that's asking a simple question," Wels stated, doggedly pursuing the topic at hand. "I didn't think you'd be too scared to answer it, Helsknight."

The frustration in Wels' chest seethes closer to rage, and he's forced to swallow in deep breaths to keep it in. There's something palpable about the dark in front of him, and a smell like brimstone and netherack burns his nose. He counts himself lucky that for now there's no smoke.

"I cannot describe Hels to you." The voice says at last, and it snarls with sharp teeth around every word. "It is only a place that makes sense."

"That's a lot of places."

"It is the only place."

"Uh, not sure if you've looked around much buddy, but Hermitcraft makes sense." Wels chuckles. "As much as it can, anyway."

"No. It doesn't."

"Would you care to elaborate? Or are we going to sit here in the dark talking around this for an hour?"

The darkness grins, and the gaps between its teeth are unfamiliar. Wels can't tell what the grin means, or how close it is to him. The frustration in his chest that isn't his simmers.

"We could sit here in the dark talking forever. That's your choice."

"This situation is out of my control," Wels repeats dutifully. "I'm waiting for help, and it's coming."

"Why are you trapped in this hole?"

"Were you napping when it all went down or--?"

"Humor me, insufferable beast."

"Creeper went off while I was caving. Trapped me in here."

"Why?"

"I... Ran out of torches?"

"Why?"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"Faster than you are."

Wels rolled his eyes. "Uh, well, this was supposed to be a quick trip. I just needed some iron. But I didn't find as much as I liked."

"And why do you need the iron?"

Wels feels like he's been manipulated. He's being circled, sword points extended, tracking movement. But he's doing his best not to move. Refraining from engagement. That is always the best way to fight Helsknight: to not fight at all. When something only knows war, peace is a baffling and unapproachable concept. But still, he feels engaged with, in the process of cornering.

"Well I need some for the build," Wels shrugs. "And I gave all I had to Beef the other day."

"A mistake you're facing the consequences of now," the voice snarls scornfully. "Why is your communicator dying?"

"I forgot to put it on the charger." Wels pauses, and then sensing the next question before it's asked, adds, "I was busy helping Jevin yesterday, so it slipped my mind I guess."

"You deserve to be trapped here."

"I mean, it's more of just, a series of unfortunate-"

"There is a clear and directed logic to why you are here right now. Every decision you've made has led to this moment."

"You say that like this is important or something."

"It's not. It's shameful. You're an idiot."

"It's good to know you think so highly of me." There was a twist in Welsknight's chest, the previous frustration raging back to life again. He stifled a laugh.

It is now Helsknight’s turn to ignore him. “Hels is a place that makes sense. Every event has a clear and traceable lineage. Every failure or victory is well-earned and deserved.”

“Because you can track things from Point A to Point B? We just did that. By your logic, Hermitcraft makes sense.”

“It does not.”

“What’s so weird about it?”

“Tell me, why are you so sure you’re going to be rescued?”

Wels shrugs, and the movement holds stiffness in it. The smell of brimstone in the black around him has begun to fade. He still feels like Helsknight is feeling him out, searching for something. “My friends will find the SOS ping. They always do.”

“Why would they help you?”

“Because we’re… friends…?”

“What makes you so sure they’re your friends?”

“Listen, I know what this is. We’ve done this song and dance before. Just because The Power Of Friendship isn’t quantifiable, that doesn’t mean my friends secretly hate me or something.”

There are teeth close to his face. He can sense them in the dark, the grinning maw murderously close. The simmering frustration that isn’t his becomes, for a brief moment, unbearable. It feels like a claw hooked through his ribcage, pulling, pulling. Dragging towards a mouth that, since it first appeared, has craved the moment it could devour him. Wels grimaces, and his hand fumbles through the dark to make sure he hasn’t actually managed to be impaled by something. When his hand reaches his chest, he feels only cold metal.

“An old wound of yours, Wels?” Helsknight snarls.

“I mean, that was an intense fight between us,” Wels allowed, and the feeling of a hook in his chest slowly starts to ease at the admittance. “I’m still on the mend… but I am mending.”

He feels like the darkness in front of him squints, sizing him up. He lets it. It’s not like Helsknight can really do him any harm here. The space is too small, for one thing. For another, Helsknight isn’t really here. Not in any form that lives and breathes and lunges, at least. No matter how palpable he feels in the dark.

“You cannot quantify friendship,” Helsknight continues. “But you can quantify a repayment in kind. What have you done, Welsknight, that you deserve to be saved in this moment? You gave away a little iron, a little time, but what fool trades their life for a few scraps?”

“I’m not asking someone to trade their life for mine. That’d be kind of selfish, I think. All I need is someone with some gumption and a functional pickaxe.”

“You are trapped in a hole of your own making. Every decision you’ve made has led to this moment. You are a hermit. You go long stretches of time without talking to your so-called friends, or aiding them in their needs. And yet you deem two small acts of favor enough justification for a lengthy search and rescue.”

“Do you not know what kindness is, Hels?”

“Kindness is a quantifiable trait. It can be repaid in equal parts to what is given for it. Your relationships with the people on this server, they cannot be accounted for. You expect them to rescue you, you expect them to like you. You expect them to accept your time given. But what have you done to deserve these things? There is no clear measure of your worth to each other. You have fallen into a safety net of caring people, who can decide at any moment they no longer care for your presence. Would you see it coming when it happened, Wels?”

“You’re trying to make me paranoid.”

“You are paranoid. Would these thoughts exist if you hadn’t had them first?”

“See, this is also an old argument, I think? If we’re the same person technically, and I’m thinking these things, that means you’ve thought them.”

“I’ve overcome these thoughts,” Helsknight cackles, a noise that reverberates around the tiny space like a rockslide. Wels finds himself pressing against the wall behind him, feeling if its stable. “I am the greatest warrior Hels has ever seen. Every victory I have ever won was rightly and justly earned. My world makes sense. You, however- I would not be here if you weren’t the weak link in my armor. An insignificant thing that fights, and spites, and hopes, and fancies after a world that cannot be counted or measured. You trust blindly, and then you crumble.”

That hook is in Wels’ chest again, and it’s hard to breathe around it. Its less that it hurts, more that it pulls. He breathes in and struggles to breathe out again. Those teeth are near his throat, threatening him with their presence, and the frustration that isn’t his is a barely contained rage. Wels screws his eyes shut – even though in the pitch black it makes no difference – and he fervently reminds himself that Helsknight isn’t really here. That the black knight can threaten and posture all he wants, but that’s all it really is at the end of the day. That’s all it is. His hands shake as he wipes his bangs out of his eyes. He’s still blind in the dark.

“Your curiosity bears promise, however.”

The feeling of the hook in his chest once again begins to fade.

“If you wish to know what Hels is like, what a world that makes sense is like, I can show you.”

Wels is startled by the realization that, for the first time, he isn’t alone in the cave he’s trapped in. It seems to him like suddenly a presence, real, physical, blinks into existence in the dark. Or maybe the dark becomes so thick and impenetrable that it gives itself form. Either way, one minute Wels is taking solace in the fact that he’s alone here. The next, he isn’t.

“Welcome back to Hermitcraft, Hels.”

The presence that is real and unsettling, and not just vague impressions of teeth and claws, leans towards him and extends a hand.

“You hate me,” Wels reminds him. “Why should I take whatever it is you’re offering to show me.”

“Because you are my weakest link,” Hels says matter-of-factly, and it’s weird hearing his voice out loud, dying in the closeness of the space they’re sharing, instead of reverberating dark and ominous in the corners of Wels’ mind. “I desire to be stronger, Wels. That is a clear and quantifiable motivation.”

Wels can hear the smile in Helsknight’s voice. “Help yourself.”

Silence falls heavy on the both of them as Wels hesitates before the outstretched hand. The conversation weighs on him, along with the weathering gaze of his Hels-spawned double. Welsknight reaches out his hand.

There’s a resounding crack, and Wels flinches as light suddenly pours into the little cavern. Xisuma is standing there, torch in one hand, pickaxe in the other. He blinks down at Wels, mouth open with a half-formed thought, before finally landing awkwardly on, “oh… Hello Welsknight.”

Wels looks back into the little cave pocket he’d been trapped in. His arm is reaching towards an empty wall. He pushes himself to his feet, pretending he wasn’t just caught in the middle of making a dumb decision. “Hey Xisuma! Thanks for coming after me, man.”

“Ah, well, I wasn’t coming after you, actually.” Xisuma fumbles, looking a bit lost. “Evil X sent me out this way looking for something. And, well… I can’t really remember what it was now I was supposed to be looking for.”

“Oh? Well that’s… serendipitous, I guess.”

“Just a regular derp moment, I guess?” Xisuma laughs uncomfortably, and then seems to get his bearings again. “Well! Glad I could help you out anyway. Would you like me to escort you back above ground again?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Come along then.”

Xisuma turns and starts making his way up the cave. Wels pauses only long enough to check the hollow he’d been stuck in, nodding to himself when there’s no sign of anyone there.

Later when Wels is alone again, back in the safety of his house, he will think about the hand extended to him in the dark. He will think about what Helsknight said about a world that makes sense, where every thought and action is quantifiable, every victory and hardship wholly justified. He thinks about what it must be like to be trapped in your darkest moments, and at every turn to recognize the individual shortcoming that brought you to that place. He thinks about how cruel a world it might be, if no one rescues those trapped by their own faults.

He thinks next time Helsknight extends his hand, he’ll refuse to take it

#the barking writer #hermitcraft #hermitcraft ficlet #helsknight #welsknight #hi you can tell i've been thinking too much about things again #mostly to the tune of 'skye philosophizes about how Right bad headspaces tend to feel in the moment'#Through Hels or High Water

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