It started out as a headcannon and delved into this
Mild horror warning?
Plants growing on his literal body
I couldn’t find a phobia name for that but I’m sure it’s out there somewhere
———
Bdubs will sleep anywhere so long as he gets to sleep somewhat on time. This can leave after affects when you’ve slept in patches of moss and mushrooms, or inside the bases of trees, and on soft grassy fields. Sometimes things might grow to love you as much as you’ve grown to love laying there.
You might think “Oh! Is that where his mossy jacket came from?”, but my dear that is simply a cover. Something that’ll blend with the moss that’s grown just above the wrist. Something that hides the mushrooms creeping out of his back. As the growth creeps down his legs, his hoodie turns into robes to hide it.
Bdubs smells faintly of rot these days, and some notice, but they all figure it to be the wardrobe. They don’t know and they don’t need to know, he thinks. He thought it would stop after Season 8, just as those in the Mycelium resistance were no longer affected by mushrooms and all things related. Yet, here in Season 9, it seems as stubborn as ever. Bdubs worries about what might become of him. But whatever it is he hopes it won’t be bad.
The plants and things are feeding off of him, he’s sure. Bdubs has been eating much more than he used to, but the things seems to give back aswell. Chopping off edible mushrooms to throw into a stew. The occasional herbs and spices such as thyme or basil appearing for him to collect. He’s not quite sure if it’s symbiotic or not, but that can only be revealed later in life. He’ll appreciate the, what may be, gifts regardless.
This becomes Bdub’s normal at some point, when he accepts that this is just how it is. Maybe he shouldn’t, but it was easier and less stressful than freaking out over every potential outcome of this strange experience. Maybe he should have told someone earlier on. Maybe it would have stopped. But Bdubs still finds himself sleeping wherever he pleases, so long as he can sleep.
WARNING: Implied/referenced character death, a possibly-incorrect depiction of exposure therapy, implied violence, unreality, existential crisis, and psychological horror.
Doc had prescribed it, you see.
It was called “exposure therapy” and it apparently helped with...well, that was where Doc had lost him a bit. Iskall had looked it up and exposure therapy wasn’t really used for “soul-deep hatred”- it was more meant for overcoming fears or anxieties.
But hey, if it helped, it helped.
He shouldered his rucksack, shrugging a bit as he walked up the hill towards Bdubs’ monolith. One night in a diorite tower, Doc had said. Exposing him to the thing he hated would hopefully lessen his hate of it. Sounded good in theory, but then, so did a lot of things.
Iskall shrugged and walked towards the tower.
Bdubs was waiting at the door with a slightly…pinched…smile on his face.
“You got everything? You okay?” Bdubs said nervously. He started tweaking his forefinger with his other hand, wrapping it up and bending it back and forth- a classic Bdubs stress tell. “If you don’t wanna do this, I mean-“
“No, I think- Doc’s right. This has gone on long enough. I need to do this for myself.” Iskall said firmly.
Then he looked up at the monolith and his guts lurched.
The diorite stared down at him, accusingly. White and ugly and awful, blinding him with its hatefulness. He felt the bile rise up in his throat, the desire to just reach into his ender chest and extract some TNT and wipe this hideous mistake off the-
No. No. Calm down, Iskall. Calm down.
Doc…had a point.
Iskall took a deep breath.
“I got my overnight bag, so I’ll be fine. I even brought my own bed. Make sure my carrots get watered, okay?” He said, and Bdubs nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Just…think of it like a little mini base swap!” he said brightly, still jerking his forefinger around. It was starting to look a bit painful.
“Yeah, exactly!” Iskall said brightly, “I…I have to do this. For myself. And if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. You’ll see.” He said with a smile, stepping up the stairs.
“Just don’t, uh…don’t…blow the place up.” Bdubs said nervously, “Please. I worked hard on that.”
Iskall chuckled, and threw his last ender chest at Bdubs’ head.
“Here. There you go, bro. Now I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Bdubs’ shoulders fell in relief.
“Alright. Have fun! Maybe you’ll learn to like diorite!” he said brightly.
Iskall nodded and slammed the door behind himself.
He put his pack down on the floor.
And he blacked out.
~*~*~*~*~
Eight hours of absolute silence followed. Bdubs was starting to get worried. Rather than staying at Iskall’s starter base, he whipped together a humble little tent on a hill overlooking his monolith. A humble little tent with a spiral staircase and a bath big enough for three, but humble enough for his purposes.
Also moss instead of wool because he ran out of wool but the point was it was a humble tent and he was staying in it.
The dawn broke, and Bdubs crawled out of his tent in his (Moss) bathrobe, toothbrush in one hand and eyes on the horizon.
His monolith was still there. Thank god.
He shakily opened his console and typed out a message.
<BdoubleO100> Iskall? You good?
<Iskall85> yeah I’m good. great actually. Had a good sleep!
Bdubs smiled. Okay, awesome. Maybe Doc was right! Exposure therapy was good. Maybe next he could build a little something out of birch and prismarine to help Keralis get over his own issues?
He brushed his teeth in the ensuite he’d built (every humble tent needed an ensuite), got dressed, and skipped up the hill to his monolith. Everything looked fine on the outside. Lulu was happily snorting and snuffling at the grass, the flowers were happily swaying in his garden, and oh yeah, his house was still perfectly intact.
Bdubs raced up the steps and burst in through the front door without bothering to knock. It was his own damn house, he had nothing to-
…to…
“Hallo, Bdubs!” Iskall said brightly, looking chipper and hearty and none the worse for wear, “Sleep well last night?”
“…Y…yeah…” Bdubs said, his eyes going wide as he scanned over the walls.
“Great! I’ll be honest, I don’t remember a lot about last night, but I feel pretty good! Honestly, I think Doc’s right- this exposure therapy thing really works. I mean, sort of. I’m even thinking, maybe- maybe I’ll use some diorite myself in one of my builds!” Iskall was heading for the door, cheerfully oblivious to Bdubs’ panic.
“M- maybe- maybe-“ Bdubs stammered, and Iskall nodded.
“Yeah! Maybe I will! Anyway, thank you so much. I did my best to tidy up. See you!”
And with that, he slammed the door.
And left Bdubs alone in his monolith.
Staring at the walls.
BDOUBLEO100 was scrawled on the nearest one in Iskall’s hand, in some kind of paint or marker or something. A scrawling, sprawling message, twisting all across the diorite, gleaming black pen on stark white stone.
Bdubs’ hands started to shake.
His entire life was scrawled out in the penstrokes, things Iskall couldn’t possibly- his birth, his mother’s sickness after, the time he fell off his dad’s shoulders and split his chin open-
Tumbling off a log, skinning his knee-
School, friendships, first kiss, first date, the first build, his comm-
And then-
bdoubleo lends diorite monolith to iskall
bdoubleo reads summary of his entire life
bdoubleo cries in terror
bdoubleo will run for help, scream
bdoubleo will-
Bdubs’ eyes fell lower. And lower.
Build after build, season after season, and then he- and then-
He dies and respawns and dies and respawns and then at the bottom corner of a wall the words abruptly stop and he reads, he reads, his death, his eventual-
Tears started leaking from his eyes as he spun around, and saw, and saw,
DOCM77 CREATED IN A
MUMBO JUMBO BORN TO
GRIAN HATCHED FROM
KERALIS1 SPAWNED FROM VOID PRIOR TO
XISUMAVOID CLONED FROM-
Bdubs ran out of the monolith, screaming till his lungs were raw.
