just some mcyt oneshots

"⎅⍜⋏'⏁ ⌰⟒⏃⎐⟒ ⋔⟒"

quite possibly one of the saddest oneshots i've written to this day.
i left the capitalisation of the letters on to make it easier to read.
enjoy the angst, love.

//tw : heavy angst, d3ath, ranboo lore-theory/imagine, derealisation maybe

:)

The man huffed, taking careful steps between the ruins of something that was probably once a home. Pieces of burnt wood flaking down on the ground, demolished rock walls crumbling, leaving small pebbles rolling with the wind.

This is familiar, he thinks, mistakenly stepping on something soft. Picking it up, it seemed to be a ripped up piece of fabric. With further inspection, it appeared to be a coat. A forest green coat, pieces of muddy fur still attached to the collar of it.

Images of a once alive boy flashed in his head.

"Look! Micheal has his own room now!"
His face was blacked out. His surroundings, blurry. His name was a whisper, a whisper of a long gone, tortured ghost.

Ohh, i can't wait for ....... to finish the mansion!"
Excited giggles. Though he could not see his face, though he could not recognize his voice, he knew the boy was smiling. That made him smile, curving his lips in a nostalgic smile. Nostaglic for what, who knows. Even he didn't know.

"Take care of Micheal while i'm gone, alright ?"
Stings of pain appearing in his chest. Who was the boy? Who was it for him to care so much about? Was he important?

He snapped out of his thoughts, of his harmful memories, not even realising he has fell to his knees. Who was this boy? Why did it hurt him so bad to think about him?

"Dad?" a bare whisper coming from behind him.
He turned his head around, faced with his own son.
"Dad, you know to not come here." the young boy said, looking down at the ground, fiddling with his hands as if he didn't know what he was doing here.

The man smiled, fully turning around. He held out his hand for the child to grab. Hooves clicked on the ground, and a small hand met a big one.

"It's gonna be ok Dad. Look, i have your book." the young boy said, pulling out a small, leathered book with engravings in it's cover from the front pocket of his bee overalls. The words weren't readable, but the boy remembered it. His father didn't anymore. He forgot. He always forgets.

The child sat next to his father, leaning into the tall man's side. The man opened the book, flipping through the pages. He seemed to relive everything, frowns and euphoric smiles spreading accross his face rapidly. He didn't know all of the people in this book, but still read.

He didn't even know himself anyway, he couldn't care.

"Do you remember Papa yet ?" the boy asked, tugging on the sleeve of his father's suit. The man squinted for a bit, as if he was trying to force himself to remember. Yet, nothing.

"It's ok Dad." the child cooed, seeing his father's lips turn into a frown, his torn ears facing down.
"Do you want me to tell you about Papa ?" the young boy asked, smiling as he saw his father nod lightly.

"Alright Dad." he said, with a happy smile. He stood up, and pulled out another book from his front pocket. His own this time, one he had made himself.

He opened it, searching for something, before pulling out a worn out photograph. He handed it to his father, watching his face light up with glee.

"Papa was your husband. Your pa- pluh- ah, i can't say that word. Papa was your best friend! And he got me out of the red world with you!" the child explained, making large movements with his small arms.

"Papa was very nice. He liked bees! And we have a tall tall house where we lived !" he continued, frowning as his small hands balled into fists.

"You really liked Papa. I know that. But Papa went away." he said, pulling out another photograph. He showed it to his father, a small nostalgic smile growing on his face.
"I really like this photo. It's when you and Papa got married, and you made me dress well." he continued, handing the photograph to his father.

The man was confused as to where the joy he was getting was coming from. He didn't know this 'Papa', yet he felt so familiar. Before he knew it, small tears were pearling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's ok to cry Dad. I miss Papa too." the young boy reassured, hugging his father's arm.

Tears rolled down black and white cheeks, skin burning at the touch of the salty water. Purple blood mixed with streaks of water, and before he knew it, he was sobbing his heart out.

His poor son was left alone, to observe his father cry. It wasn't the first time, but he was powerless in front of the person who he was supposed to look up to having a literal breakdown. He simply hugged his dad, in hopes of comforting him. As usual, it did not help, but he did it anyway.

His father slowly wrapped his arm around his son, pulling him close to his chest. He put a hand on the child's head, almost like to protect him.
"⋔⟟☊⊑⟒⏃⌰" he whispered, voice sounding like a harsh hiss yet so soft.
"⋔⟟☊⊑⟒⏃⌰, ⌿⍀⍜⋔⟟⌇⟒ ⋔⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⍜⋏'⏁ ⌰⟒⏃⎐⟒ ⋔⟒." he pleaded, more hisses and soft clacking forming words of an unknown language.

"I won't Dad. I promise you i'll always be with you."

:)

i was planning on doing more but my motivation left so that's all you get ig.

little fun facts i didn't include in the text cuz they're kinda useless :
-Ranboo's at the Bee n Boo hotel, which got burnt down and is where Tubbo died (reason why his coat is there).
-Ranboo, because of Tubbo's death, started blocking out memories, eventually blocking out everything, and returning to Ender language. He only remembers Micheal, since well, Micheal's his son.
-only Micheal understands his father, and is usually the one taking care of him. Ranboo still is able to take care of himself and Micheal, but has become way more sensitive to everything.

anyways, i hope you liked it :]

ty for reading, byee <3

-jax