Tubbo X You - Tumblr Posts

💜 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]

Masterlist

Prompt List

Taglist: @creatorofstars