MCYT Oneshots And Other Random Stuff

Lost

"I remember the first time I saw Tubbo, walking into the Community House to greet me. Dressed like a president even though he was just sixteen, wearing the scars of his execution with pride. I thought he was brave."

"And now?"

"Now I know he was lost." Ranboo turned his head to study the snowy plain. "And I don't know if he'll ever find his way."

***

Lost.

It was all Tubbo could think as he ran through the snowy forest.

Cold snowflakes brushed his cheeks, but he ignored them. Didn't give them a second thought.

He was lost, he was lost again, he had always been lost.

It was why he'd run from the mansion in the middle of the night to traverse the inhospitable terrain alone in the dark.

He'd lost himself months ago, on a stage underneath a shower of fireworks.

Now he was lost again, lost in the snow, and this time he'd chosen to be.

As the cold and dark pressed in on him, he thought about what he'd lost.

Tubbo liked bees.

Maybe that was the only thing he had kept of himself, of the old Tubbo, the one who had burned in the wake of Technoblade's firework arrow.

I really do like bees.

At least he had that.

There had been a different person, though. A different personality. Warmth and happiness and kindness. A dislike of lying, an affinity for rules.

A boy who had not been able to stand up for himself, a boy who had still believed in the goodness of the world.

Maybe that boy hadn't died on that stage, in that suffocating box of yellow concrete. Maybe he'd lived, in some ways, because he had been there during the presidency, too.

Full control of a country, and the boy Tubbo used to be had let himself be stomped on. Took orders from others. Never made a decision that was fully, completely his own.

At least, until that boy, the old Tubbo, had met his death under the bombs that destroyed L'Manburg.

Whoever had crawled out of the ashes of L'Manburg was someone new, someone lost.

Someone colder, frozen and dangerous, like this forsaken frosted forest.

Someone darker, ruthless and empty, like this moonless midnight.

Tubbo felt the world go warm as he fell to his knees, sinking into a snowdrift.

Warm, like the fire that roared in the mansion's living room. Warm, like his heart used to be, long ago.

But the cold would take him. He was still lost, and the cold would still win.

A delirious giggle escaped his lips.

I really do like bees.

He would have liked to see one again. At least just one.

The darkness closed in.

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BLUE wrote TUBBO ANGST at NIGHT!!! I KNOW! SHOCKER!!!!!

why do I always write Tubbo angst at night tho

anyway didja like it?