Platonic Tubbo X Male Reader - Tumblr Posts

Michael and His Three Platonic Dads 💛

(699 words lol)

(Any but you are referred to as Dad)

Description: You are just a regular streamer that gets roped into the BeeDuo Family.

[Read the rest under the cut]

You chewed on your pop tart, scrolling through Twitter. Things were a bit random today, with people mentioning you in a bunch of random pictures of a baby piglin. Maybe your brand was built off of your piglin-esque skin but that didn't mean you wanted your fans tagging you in every tweet mentioning the piglin they named 'Micheal.

As you scrolled through them all, you found a tweet that mentioned how this all started.

"RandomTwitterAcc @doesntexistthisisfanfic

Ranboo and Tubbo adopting Michael and then everyone just forcing @ogpiglin into the role of third father is everything"

You raise a brow. You've heard about your fellow minors who stream minecraft before. They'd gotten insanely popular, so of course you had. But you've never interacted with them before.

It's just your luck that the first time you do, it's because the fandom is forcing you to adopt their piglin child, Michael, too.

Honestly? You've had worse introductions to people. When you had first met Georgenotfound, it was going against him in chess and trash talking him the whole time.

You're friends now, but thrashing someone in a game that's being broadcasted to thousands isn't always taken well. You're just lucky that the stans didn't come after you for it.

You did have a stream in thirty minutes, maybe you could make it apart of your stream to tweet about Michael. You could "officially" adopt him while on stream. That'd probably be good enough content before you got to your actual content. Which you still hadn't decided between an old lucky block mod with interactive chat or joining random fan's realms. Decisions, decisions.

{《☆》}

In the end, lucky blocks had been too tempting. Who wouldn't want to relieve the nostalgia of their childhood?

Of course though, you had already mentally promised yourself to address the whole baby piglin situation. (And likely add gasoline to the flames)

"Hey chat!" You exclaimed loudly, the soft noise of Pigstep playing as your intro music. Chat was a mix of "hi" and "ba ba ba ba" with a few mentions of Michael. "How are you all doing today?"

You hummed along to Pigstep as you chat responds. You glance over donos and chucklewhen you realize a majority are about Michael. Yeah, it's best to get over with it.

"Alright guys! Before we get into playing Minecraft, I want to do something fun." You grin mischievously at the camera. It's not an expensive camera, nor is the rest of your set up, but it's been with you since you started streaming last year and you've gotten attached. Chat even named it a multitude of things, although the one they commonly use is nugget.

Maybe it's your fault for wrapping it in gold wrapping paper for Christmas. The name "gold nugget" just caught on and then nugget was founded. It's shorter but honestly, you've taken to calling it, lovingly, a piece of shit.

"We are going to officially adopt that one baby piglin from the Dream smp, Michael, on Twitter. Because why wouldn't we want to break Twitter?"

Chat enthusiastically cheered you on. Your mods were probably half-way close to putting it in money mode, but you just laughed and pulled up Twitter.

Techno stans me @ogpiglin

Everyone wants me to, so now I'm adopting Michael. @Ranboosaystuff and @TubbosLive we are all now Michael's dads.

{《☆》}

You giggled, almost drunkenly, a few hours later. It was almost 3am, but you were having a lot of fun. Glancing over at chat, something you hadn't done in a while, you realize chat was excitedly yelling about Tubbo and Ranboo being in chat.

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow to chat. "Apparently my fellow dads are in chat."

"Welcome!" You spin in your chair, flinging your hands into the air before you wobbily clutch your desk to stop a few seconds later. "I should probably vip you two. Give me a second... and done!"

Instantly, the duo spams "check discord".

Getting the message to check discord, you pull it up to see a pair of friend requests from them.  Accepting instantly, you send a quick "hi".

A bit awkward. Especially since you're suddenly being roped into helping them raise Micheal in the dsmp.

{《☆》}

[I found a photo from late 2020 that reminded me that my cavetown obsession was so unhealthy that I had been in their top 1% on spotify. Twas the good ol' days, sigh.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

aaaaaa so I read one of your prince!eret posts and I had an idea! (I would've wrote it myself but I wouldn't have done it any justice)

but what if Prince!Eret had a little brother? and that was reader?? maybe reader is a little rebellious and sneaks out into the villiage or smth and meets the bench trio who don't know reader is the youngest prince? so they just kinda of spent the whole day together doing stuff until Prince Eret and maybe some of the Knights find them?

idk have a wonderful day/night :)

This came out a lot angstier than the first draft had been ahskfj

Little Rebel Prince 💛

[He/him pronouns]

[3000+ words]

Description: After an argument with your brother, King Eret, you sneak out of the castle. During your adventure you meet three odd, wonderful boys. (Platonic Eret + Benchtrio x M!Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

Eret sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. His quill (how old school) is dropped to the side, staining a random piece of parchment and the edges of his sleeves. "For the last time, Y/N, you cannot attend dinner with King August."

"Why not?" You asked, not for the first time.

"Because you're too young. We're trying to discuss a peace treaty and I can't trust you not to ruin it." Eret is blunt, finally pulling his sleeve out of the wet ink splotch and grimacing. They look into your eyes, an uncomfortable feeling really, and their expression softens. "I really wish you could be there but this dinner is not a thing we can risk. Our borders are being contested so if we want this to end peacefully-"

"I can't be around to mess it up," You cut in blithely, managing to keep a smile on your face even as your brother's fell. "Got it. Well then, I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

Eret looks older suddenly, more exhausted as they lose their words before they can even grasp them. It leaks out of every pore, staining his stare blank and deepening the bags beneath his eyes. You've never seen a person lose so much life so quickly, nonetheless he doesn't say anything as you turn. Even as you linger in the hallway, the door stays shut and so you don't let the stares of Raven and Katrina weigh you down even as every step feels like a mile.

{《☆》}

You want some sweets. Not the ones in the castle, salted more than sweetened since that's what Eret likes, but the ones from the outskirts of the kingdom where the best sweets are smuggled from "L'Manchildburg". Normally, you'd just ask Eret to send you off with Sara or Kori but for obvious reasons you refused to do so.

In vindictive anger, you stepped out of your room despite whatever wordless promise you had made. There were no guards, an oversight really but it was an oversight that would be saving you some trouble. With quick hands, you push the large painting on the wall to the side and pressed your thumb to the sharp pointed thimble.

Blood dripped onto the metal and soaked into it, glowing a faint gold glow. The walls shifted, opening to long, large corridors of stone carved to perfection. Simple cracks layered the sides and you traced where Eret had carved both of your initials as a marker, running through the halls with you, getting lost and trying not to cry. You pulled away, something bitter lodged in your throat.

The labyrinth was made by your father as a gift for Eret's obtained kingship. Herobrine was not an amazing father but no one can say he does not try.

Quick steps forward, ignoring the way the walls shift in place as they read your intentions, making way to the capital. More specifically it seemed, a dimly lit alleyway with a knocked over trash can resting at you feet. The wall clicked shut behind you, lines smoothing away and melting back into brick walls.

The road was slanted, an odd sort of tension to going down and a struggle to walk up but you've walked it so many times that getting the perfect footing was practically automatic. The restaurants littering the sides were fairly loud for the daytime, doors caught wide open for any customer to step into. You distract yourself with catching the new prices for entering, a few dollars up for the steak-house but three dollars down for the pub. Easily enough, you're standing at the top.

This area is flatter, easier to walk, but it goes down long enough that you'd end up going in circles for hours and still not seeing everything it had to offer. A passing street musician plays a bit louder for you but you step past quicker, they'd never stop bothering you if you showed any interest, though you admit that they had an excellent voice.

Turning a corner, you stepped into a familiar café. A red-tie* owned sweets shop ran by Niki, a nice lady who had dual citizenship somehow. It had a nice atmosphere despite that, soft lighting handing from the ceiling with vines tangled with the cord. High top tables pushed against the wall, beanbags pushed into a corner near some plants, a front counter wide enough to sit and eat at.

It's nice, not overly colourful but with enough plants and throw pillows to break up the monotony. You took a seat at the counter, brushing off a few crumbs leftover by a past customer. "Niki! You here?"

A soft laugh from behind you, "It's my café of course I am."

You spin the chair, leaning back against the counter. "Just thought I'd ask," You spin again as she steps behind the counter. "Are you still serving (f/s)?"

"Of course," Niki laughs again, a teasing little smile on her face. "I wouldn't be your favorite cafe if I didn't."

"Mighty confident there, Niki," You press your lips together but it can't stop your smile from growing. "What if I liked that one café on Oreli street better?"

Niki gasp, exaggerated and scandalized. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh but I would," You are openly smiling now, a bit of an ache in your cheek that's not really helping. "Maybe I should go there now—"

"Enough teasing," Niki rest her hands on her hips, still smiling. "Do you want your (f/s) or not?"

"I do, thanks Niki," You shamelessly laugh. "As many a you've got, actually."

"You're going to dry out your pockets before the festival even starts!" The reminder makes you brighten up, even as Niki shakes her head fondly. Racking her knuckles across the kitchens shared wall, she calls out. "Ranboo, we need (f/s) please."

A small crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by skidding as the door was cracked open the barest amount, a half-white half-black enderman staring blearily at the ground. With a lighter colour face, they blurted out an vague noise of agreement and ducked back through the door.

Niki looked over at you and you looked at her. After a comically long time, she sighed and wiped her hands on a towel. "I have to go check on him don't I."

"It is your café," You nodded along, tipping your chair back a bit. "I will just wait here and—!"

Niki reached over and strong-armed you over the counter. "Nope, if I have to deal with it, so do you,"

You grumble as she let's you walk around the counter. Glancing at each other, you take the first step in.

The organized neatness of the café is ruined by the disaster that was the kitchen. The counters were cluttered with messy pots and pans, cartons of milk tilted and spilling onto the floor with egg shells broken into hundreds of tiny pieces beneath your feet. Dishes were pilled high in the large sinks, including some extras sat in relatively neat stacks by the spilled milk. A pile of mud sits on a plate, smudge marks that were probably made by someone liking it. You really don't wanna know.

"Niki, I know what it looks like," The ram-boy says slowly, backing into a taller but more scrawny avian-boy. "But I have a good reason for what happened."

"Oh yeah," With her hands on her hips and raised brows, Niki briefly entertained the ram-boy. Mistake number one. "Okay, what happened?"

"Uhm, DISTRACTION!" They screamed, immediately sprinting for the back door. At the same time the avian boy screeched incomprehensible noises with garbled curses and uselessly flapped their wings to the door. With a startled gasp, Niki accidentally pushed you towards the half-white half-back enderman hybrid who startles a yelp and everything twists.

You fall to the floor, head fuzzy with black dots like flickering lights. Someone cursed above you, reaching down to pull you to a stand. "Look what you did, Ran—bow."

"It's Ran-boo," Another voice, deeper and squeakier than the other voice at the same time. "But they fell onto me!"

"No one's allowed to fall for you except me!" A third voice said indignantly with a small air of humour, a large stomp like a tantrum knocking you more on whoever picked you up. "We should just leave them here before Niki finds us."

"She'd be even angrier if we left her friend here alone like this," The deep voice said, attempting to reason with the angry voice. The person holding you tightens their grip at the thought, holding you up a bit more. "So please, can we not."

"Fine, for Niki," The angry voice pouts, loudly dropping to the floor. "Can I draw on their face while they're asleep?"

"No, Tubbo, you can't draw a penis on their face." Deep voice guy sighed, sounding like your brother whenever you prank Lord Dream (as if you don't do it everytime he visits).

"Aww man."

You blink, murky colours still flooding your visions but focusing more with every blink. You're leaning against a tall blond in a red and white shirt, his bony shoulder digging into your cheek as you lean against him. "What's going on?"

Your attempt at comprehensible words was mediocre at best, but you'll suppose it's good enough. Looking at the hybrid who teleported you there, a second wave of nausea comes tumbling out of your mouth.

As everyone scurries back, your yanked by the avian hybrid who had yet to let you go. Bringing your hand upon to wipe at spit and your half-digested lunch, you finally feel normal again. Pulling away from the avian, who happily let's you with a grumbled "Ew," at your throw up trail, you stand up tall and try to regain any respect your sickness had thrown away. "Well that was kind of rude."

You cringe, the voice of your brother reprimanding you in spirit. But the avian and ram start giggling to each other, making deep mocking voices of your words at the enderman hybrid. "C'mon guys, I already said it wasn't my fault!"

When he turns to you, he bows his head low, "I'm so sorry for teleporting you. Tubbo's told me it really sucks when you're not an enderman. I'm really sorry!"

"It's... fine," You shrug, grimacing at the taste of your own stomach fluids coating your teeth. "I mean, it wasn't intentional so no harm, no foul."

"See, Boo, you're fine!" The ram pats their shoulder with a bit of difficulty—you think their name is Tubbo so the other would be Ranboo— and dusting off their pants as they stand up. "I'm Tubbo!"

"I'm Y/N," You take the offered hand, trying to replicate your brother's strong handshake. Tubbo giggles despite the effort, his grip turning into Iron as well. It's almost a contest between you two. Who has the stronger hand grip?

Sadly, you've come to a loss and Tubbo whoops with victory. Turning to the avian, you stick your hand out. "Nice to meet you, chicken boy. I'm Y/N."

"I am not a fucking chicken! I don't even look like a chicken!" If he was an actual animal, you'd imagine it'd look like he had rabies. Foaming at the mouth with anger, chittering aggressively and non-stop. "Fuck you man! I'm not a chicken."

"Alright, alright, my bad." You backtrack quickly, hands raised in a placating motion. "I would like to know your name though chi–regular boy."

The avian gave you the stink eye, "The name's Tommy Innes! And don't call me that either." They set their hands on their hips in a close imitation of Niki. "You're a right prick."

"I prefer the words 'difficult to handle', it's a lot easier to read on your report card, ya know?" Suddenly you cringe again, the reminder of your brother's face when you did read it to him coming back to haunt you. Fixing your posture, you stick your hand out again after putting it down. "Nice to meet you."

Tommy takes your hand, his hands surprisingly calloused. "Your introduction was shit."

{《☆》}

You don't exactly remember why you followed them or why they let you follow them, all you remember is the exciting feeling of truly enjoying yourself, feeling light with every step, your face aching from smiling so hard and your stomach twisted with laughter. It was nice, so incredibly nice.

All good things must come to an end eventually though and the sound of trumpets sounding in the streets scare the shit out of you.

"Fuck," You curse through a handful of marshmallow Tommy had given you. "Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck."

"What's wrong?" Tubbo asks, strangely concerned. "Are you okay?"

"The King is on his way," You say as you try chewing quicker. The taste of too many marshmallows stick to your tongue, the taste stuck between your teeth and caught in your throat. It tastes like air now. "He's probably already here."

"What's wrong with that?" Tommy asks, face serious and lips drawn to an aggressive sneer. "Is he bothering you? I swear if he's messing with you—"

"No, Prime no," You say, louder than planned. "He's not, it's just, I can't be found by him."

"Are you sure—?" Ranboo starts, cut off by the noise of clattering metal and horse steps. Whirling around quickly, you're already done for. Too many soldiers to evade surround you, practically boxing you into the bench you're sitting at.

"Your majesty, we've found him," A soldier calls out, one hand resting on their holster as they watch you all. "Three unidentified subjects around him, all equipped."

You whirl back to look at them and wow is it a sight. Your new buddies, the practically harmless friends you've made—Tubbo cried when he killed a bee— are all wearing full netherite armour, sharp blades than you've ever wielded in their hands. "Guys...?"

"Y/N, get behind us," Tubbo says, eyes hidden by the helmets shadow. Something about his voice frightens you, but yet still being near him isn't scary. You aren't scared of him hurting you. For some reason you trust them all not to. But still...

Your brother steps up and you sink a bit, following Tubbos directions and hiding in hopes he somehow magically forgets about you in the next three seconds.

"Y/N, you said you'd be in your room." Eret says with an infuriatingly level voice. It is like the moon is dipping the sunset, cusping their back just enough for the light to shine down and flare around your brother, truly a king fit to rule the world. "Honestly I don't know what I expected from you."

You feel embarrassment claw at your throat, fighting with the rage in your stomach and suddenly you feel the urge to hurl. Tommy is at your side, one hand holding their sword up and the other offering a sort of protection for you. The consequence though, that is what paralyzes you.

"Your royal highness, please end this foolishness. We do not wish to harm your friends." A soldier calls, a beckoning hand outstretched as if you're a frightened animal awaiting rescuing.

Another wave of anger bubbles over you, pushing your embarrassment to your heels to be dragged with. "You dare threaten my friends. They have done anything you didn't force them to."

"Those are Mud Trackers**," Eret spits out, though the words don't surprise you. "Tommy Innit, Tubbo Underscore, Ranboo Beloved, all of them fought against us."

"You were one of them once too," You yell back but still there is a disconnect when Tommy flinches next to you. The truth is out. You are royalty and they are the tentatively neutral country, enemies forged through blood. They could have killed your brother and your brother could have killed them. You don't know whatever history that is hiding in Eret's anger but neither side are taking it well. "Stop taking your anger at me on them! If you're gonna fight anyone, fight me!"

The thought makes your brother step back, face falling into the first emotion you've seen on his face. Guilt. "I'm not going to fight you, and if you return I'm not going to fight them either."

"What if I dont," You say and there is a clenched hurt that comes with those words. "Will you kill them?"

"No, you know I wouldn't Y/N," Your brother says and it is softer, quieter. Eret sighs, crown tipped and without the sunlight he is just as inhuman as you, pain written into the curve of his frown.  "Please just come home."

Tommy looks over at you and they are still angry even as they put their sword away. "Go fix this. If you need us, you know how to find us."

Not-quite-relief washes down your throat at Tommy's words. Ranboo and Tubbo keep their weapons but they too step back. Looking over at your brother, you walk with all the grace embued in your lineage, chin held high. As you greet Eret, he pulls you into a hug.

"I was so worried, Y/N," he mutters, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you burrow into his chest. "I'm sorry for being a dick. Please never do that again,"

"Okay," You manage to say, muffled in your brother's shirt. "But you are still kinda being a dick."

"Okay, I'll do better," He says, quiet and true. "Let's go home."

Before he can stop you, you pull away. Turning back to your friends, you wave, "I'll see you again soon, bye."

Ranboo waves back but Tommy and Tubbo look at each other and just nod. "Bye."

Eret doesn't say anything to your friends but there is something horribly sad in their smile. Maybe they had more history than just fighting, who knows. He turns to you, outstretched hand waiting for you. You take it easier than before. It isn't great, but it's something.

{《☆》}

*red-tie is a neutral term referring to L'Manburg citizens

**mud trackers is an insult to L'Manburg citizens based on their usually dirty appearances and lack of advanced equipment early in the war.

[YOOOOOOO I FINALLY FINISHED THIS HOLY COW! This took way longer to do my horrible procrastination finally stopped today (ngl I wrote like 1k words in a panic today) I'm so sorry this took forever but in my defence... yup]

[ANYWAY TO CELEBRATE HALLOWEEN IM GONNA DO A BIT OF A MONSTERDATERS EVENT WHERE ITS ONLY EVER MONSTER AND DEMONS AND SHIT NO KISS KISS FOR HUMANS]

[I do have a date for Distance btw, Nov 13 is when the first chapter shall come out. Go self-care drink water eat food and sleep if it's later than 11pm byeee]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

💜 DAY 8 OF MONSTER WEEK [HALLOWEEN] — GHOST TUBBO

[1800+ words]

[Gender-neutral]

Description: You go Ghost hunting and end up meeting a traumatized ghost.

[Read the rest under the cut]

"This is so creepy," You murmur, slowly trailing the light of your flashlight across the dull, stone walls. The buildings, ruins of some old castle, were horror movie material. It made it really popular a while back when a few Ghost hunters filmed an episode focusing on its apparent haunting.

You're sure it's all just babble meant to sell more tourist traps and attract ghost nuts. That's the only reason you accept your friends' dare to explore the place but now that you're actually here, you're regretting that decision a bit.

A loud gust of wind shakes the windows and you bite your tongue, trying to shake off your nerves. There were probably other people inside as well, so at the very least you're not alone.

You tug at one of the many doors, though this one is distinctly unique in that the locked bolt is on the outside. You tug at the rusty bolt and it snaps off instantly. Guilty, you drop it to the floor, looking around for witnesses. No one's around though so you kick the bolt far, far away. No evidence.

Of course, you've already unlocked it You strain yourself for almost a minute trying to pry the door open but even unlocked, it's almost glued shut. You turn to walk away when a quiet 'creeeak' comes from behind.

You whirl around, hands trembling. The door is wide open now, framing a desolate and dark room, enveloped in thick shadows. You fumble with your flashlight and it falls to the floor, rolling about a foot away from you and right in front of the now-unlocked door.

You slowly step forward, squatting down to pick up the flashlight without taking your eyes off the door and its tempting entrance.

You know there are other people in the castle, you broke in easily enough so you know entering wouldn't be a problem for others. Knowing this, you jump to thinking it's someone pulling your leg, hoping that's all there is to it. But there's a sinking in your stomach, tossing and turning and thinking that maybe, just maybe, this isn't a prank but something else. Something otherworldly.

You tighten your hold on your flashlight, just in case, and step through the door. You're swept by a wave of chills instantly, though all the windows in this particular room are clamped shut and sealed like they were trying to keep something trapped inside.

You walk towards the bed that's oddly enough set in the exact middle of the room. You scan the flashlight across the room, realizing distantly how the furniture makes the room look like a dungeon. It's all muted colours, dusty beyond belief. You think back to the rusty bolt you snapped off and realize that no one's entered the room in what's probably been decades.

You walk around the bed to see the other side of the room when you spot marks against the floor. You stifle a gasp by biting your tongue, staring at the marks with wide eyes. You trace the marks leading from 4 spots, 2 against a wall and another 2 evenly spaced in front of them, scratched into long lines leading towards the bed. Your brows furrow as you realize the marks are from someone pushing the bed into the middle of the room. Weird.

You don't have to worry about it for long because you're immediately faced with an even worse issue. The door shuts and you instantly run towards it. "Fuck,"

You're so screwed, so so screwed. The door isn't opening no matter how much you push and shove. You know it's not locked, you had broken that before entering, but it feels like someone barricaded it with ten tons, impossible to push or even make budge.

You get goosebumps instantly, a burning chill spreading behind your back, feeling like someone standing, pressed behind you. You whirl around and there is nothing, no one. You cast the light of your flashlight across the room rapidly and your heart leaps to your throat when you double-take to a slumbering figure on the bed. The bed you were previously standing next to. The (previously) empty one.

it's made of different shades of white, casting the room in a moody glow. You're entranced by the beauty of the sleeping figure, feeling your nerves settling just by looking at the peaceful face of the slumbering teen. You take a step towards them, feeling out of control of your own body. You keep walking in a trance until you're a step away from the bed, close enough to see the muted shades of colour.

You lean towards them, just to admire them. It's an instinct, the same way a baby cries when they're hungry. You want to know how it feels to sleep so peacefully. You want to sleep long enough to know how it feels when your bones turn to ash…

Their eyes fly open and you're instantly shot back into your body, falling back onto your butt, trembling. Their skin is more pigmented now, flushed with energy in the same way that yours is now pale like someone applied a white overlay to it. You don't know where your flashlight is so you stumble to your feet and almost trip over a table trying to find the door.

"You look fucking stupid," It giggles like your panic is amusing. They admire their skin, which is still glowing radiantly, but it's stronger now. If you could describe it you'd say that earlier it was a dying ember and now it's a strong flame. "I took a bit too much energy from you, sorry for that."

It stretches leisurely, "Though if I hadn't stopped you, you would've lost your soul so really you should thank me."

You finally find the door but it's still locked. You push at it, putting all your weight behind it. Your knees go weak and you almost fall to the floor, exhausted and panting.

"That's not going to work," It watches you, frowning. It shakes it's head when you push yourself to stand taller, sighing when you try slamming the door open and failing. "You should stop trying, you're only going to fail."

"What do you want," You cry out, feeling drained both mentally and emotionally, not to mention psychically. Though you do have that fucking ghost to blame for that last one. "Why won't you let me leave."

Its face twists at your words like the word is revolting, though it's overshadowed by the raw sadness dragging its otherworldly beauty down. "We can't leave. The door has to stay shut. It has to stay shut."

"it was open earlier," You stutter as their eyes settle on you, full of more emotions than just the amusement you saw earlier. "How do you think I got in?"

Its face is full of despair as they stare at the door, anxiously pressing itself into one of the bedposts. "No one saw you enter. No one heard the door close. If they did…" They look back to you, "Where were they, why didn't they stop you? Maybe… Maybe this is a trick."

"What trick," You find the energy to stand again, staring them down. "Why can't we open the door."

"You're trying to get me to open the door so I get in trouble again," They murmur anxiously, their skin pulsing with vibrant, human colours. "I can't leave, I can't leave, never again."

"No one's waiting out there to hurt you," You drop your tone to a low, soothing hush, "I just want to go home. Please just let me open the door."

"It's not me," They whispher, "It's the maids. They've locked me in here again. We can't leave until they say so. We can't leave or they'll hurt us. They're only pretending to be gone, they tricked both of us."

You almost scream in frustration. None of your words are getting through to him. Instead, you slowly walk over, "No one is out there, I checked. The only person keeping you trapped here is you. We can leave."

"What?" They scan your face, hands trembling. You're standing next to the bed and you hesitantly offer your hand. They stare at it for a second, their voice comes out a whisper, "Are you sure?"

When you nod, he sets his hand into yours. They don't really step onto the floor, their feet are more whisphy, but he's on the same level as you now. He stares at the door, face still haunted, so you take the first step towards it.

He trails after you, still holding your hand. When your hand wraps around the handle, his breath stops (though you imagine as a ghost it's unneeded). The door slowly pushed open and they squeezed your hand anxiously, eyes darting around the empty, dark hallway. There is no one there though and he is still trembling.

"They could be hiding," They whisper low, setting your hair on edge. They hurriedly tug you back. "They're going to come back, we need to go back inside."

"No," You say firmly and start dragging him along with all your might. You need to leave and evidently, so does this ghost. You turn the corner and it's empty, he seems more anxious at that sight. You turn another corner and then another and then you are standing in an overgrown garden.

The ghost seems mesmerized by the plants, staring at them with an alienated fascination. They let go of your hand to walk towards a flower, hands spreading frost across its petal. He doesn't seem to know how much strength to hold it with and he rips a petal off. He tries again, smoothing the petal between his fingers. It looks ice cold now but he is smiling brightly, skin back to a softer, pastel light.

"No one is here anymore," He mutters to you, entranced by the flowers the same way you were entranced by him earlier. He looks up at you, "I never asked your name, did I?"

"I'm Y/N," You say softly, taking one of the fallen petals into your hand. As you had thought, it is cold but it is also beautiful. Memorialized in the ice, almost. "I didn't ask your name either."

"Oh," They look over to the plants again, "I've never… I'm Tubbo. I'm the- I was the prince. I think I'm dead now."

"Yeah," You nod. "I think it sucks you were trapped in that room for so long."

"It did suck," He takes a deep breath in, "But I don't have to go back now. My father, King Schlatt, hated me. He hated even looking at me. I wasn't allowed to leave my room. It got so lonely and now… I don't know now."

"Now you're free." You take his hand and put the frozen petal on his palm. He looks back up at you, starry-eyed. "You can go anywhere. You don't have to be alone anymore."

"Can I come with you," He says breathily, excited. "I've always wanted to see the kingdom. I've only read books. How much has changed?"

You can't help but laugh, "Okay. I guess I've got a ghost buddy now."

{《☆》}

[This wasn't supposed to be this long or depressing ngl but i love a good angsty backstory. Anyways lore time, TW FOR THIS SECTIONS!!! Tubbo is a dead prince who as we find out had been hated by his father, king Schlatt and basically exiled to a separate wing of the palace. He is locked in his room most of the time and has been traumatized repeatedly whenever he leaves, usually by the guard and maids who lock him in there. After the palace got destroyed by rioters, Tubbo died of starvation in his room and came back as a ghost due to the traumatic experiences he faced. He still doesn't leave the room though because he's afraid of being hurt again and still believes he's being locked in there as punishment until you help him through that.]

[Anyways the next two posts will be spread out over the next day because I was too ambitious in my planning but rest assured, I will post them even if they're a bit late.]

[L0v3 k1ng]

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