Oh Boo Hoo!

Absolutely NO Demon Dolls Tubbo

 "Wilbur!" Techno screamed, storming out of his half put together room and towards his brothers, "did you take one of my books again?!"

He found Wilbur cross legged on his bed, eyeing a splay of photos he had laying across his sheets. At Techno's call he glanced up, "no? You know I don't like your tastes in reading. I'm much more of a sci-fi/fantasy type of guy."

Wilbur chuckled, going back to the assortment of photos and picking through them, "I'm sure you've just misplaced it. Maybe it got organized with some of Phil's books instead."

Techno sighed in frustration, running a hand through his tangled hair. He took it out of the braid earlier to redo it, but never came around to braiding it once more, leaving it loose around his shoulders.

He was tired, all he wanted to do was read his books and lie down for a couple hours. Moving was a lot of work, they've only unpacked a part of their own rooms, it took way too long to sort boxes to where they needed to be.

But now his favorite book was missing and he had no idea where it was!

-----

"Ranboo..." Tubbo sighed, holding a book in his hand, "I thought we were supposed to be keeping on the down low until we got more intel on the family."

It was surprising how alive Tubbo still looked, even as a ghost. He was pretty popular for being the spectre in the hallway. The whispers in your ear. An image from the past. He looked bright even as a ghost, and his eyes still shined with mischief and wonder. Tubbo was still very much alive, if it weren't for the fact his body was gone and dead.

Unlike popular belief, ghosts weren't cursed to live in the clothes they died in. They could change into whatever they pleased as long as it was something they used to own or have worn before. The downside was, if you were injured when you died, for example, maybe you got hit in the head a little too hard, the blood and the wound follows you to the afterlife!

The pale green of his sweater was just as bright as the night they died. A night they didn't really talk about anymore. His hair was a mess, completely fluffed up as if he just awoke from a bad night's rest, and of course, as always, was the blood ever present on his sweatshirt, slowly dripping from the temple of his forehead.

Ranboo shrugged, snatching the book from Tubbo's hands and lifting it above their head and out of the shorters reach. "I found it, therefore it is mine."

Tubbo rolled his eyes before simply floating up and grabbing the book back from Ranboo with surprising speed. "No stealing. You can read the book when the humans are out of the house or some shit."

Ranboo pouted, forcing their lip to wobble and their eyes to go wide, "please Tubbo, I haven't had any new books to read in ten years!"

Tubbo glared, a small bit of his resolve starting to crumble around him before Tommy spoke up, appearing through the floor before Tubbo could give in completely. "Ranboo. You were the one who stated the rules, so why are you the one breaking them? I thought Tubbo and I were supposed to be the rule breakers."

Tommy was also an interesting soul, he was the culprit for all the bumps in the night, the doors that wouldn't fully shut, items falling off of shelves without reason. His eyes were still just as full of life as Tubbo's, even if he was dead, the pale blue seemed to be the brightest color on him, even brighter than his dumb red baseball shirt that he never changed.

Unlike Tubbo however, Tommy didn't sport any blood on his person. Not on the outside at least. But don't worry, his blood stayed inside where it was supposed to be in the first place!

Ranboo slowly sank to the floor, laying dramatically on the old wood as they moaned a ghostly howl that softly echoed throughout the house. They could practically feel Tommy and Tubbo's identical eye roll, at least until Tubbo slipped away downstairs to put the book in some obscure place to weird out Techno.