DSMP Oneshots!

A Brush With Death - Clingyduo

NO THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC!

this oneshot is purely platonic... and full of angst >:] all angst ahead, boys, ENJOY IT-

this also takes place after Ranboo dies and Micheal is put under Ghostboo's care.

cw// character death, some gore, alcohol use, panic attack, self-harm and possibly derealization

Tubbo leaned his elbows on the marbled countertop, letting out a heavy breath as he threaded his fingers through his long, messy hair. He breathed in and out shakily, gulping hard as he wiped his tears away. 'No. You won't cry. You're not going to cry, you baby. They're not worth it.' He shook his head and quietly looked up. Pictures in the hallway were turned around, even some broken glass shards on the wooden flooring. Pictures of Ranboo, Micheal, and himself... they were too painful to look at.
He looked back down at the counter, trying to take deep breaths, but they only made him tear up again. He clenched his hand into a fist, furrowing his eyebrows with frustration. He took a deep breath, turning towards the cabinets, standing on his tiptoes to grab a bottle of vodka. 'I'm not crying over them again. I will NOT cry over them again.' He poured himself a shot, easily drinking it down, only slightly cringing at the bitter taste.
He took a few more shots, only feeling the buzz after 4 shots. He gripped tightly onto the neck of the vodka bottle, he felt his tears returning, but he chose to tune them out and took a huge swig straight from the bottle.

It continued that way for nearly an hour, and he had gone through two and a half bottles. He was completely wasted by now. He stared blankly at the countertop, the shiny marble just barely showing his reflection. Tubbo just let out a small huff, he grabbed the two empty bottles and started to make his way around the island so he could put them into the recycling, but he started to fall back. He just barely caught himself, and huffed, "St-upid legsss...." He trailed off, slurring heavily. He stood back up as straight as he could, and was going to continue his way over to the recycling, but his eyes suddenly rolled back, and he fell back once again. He was unable to catch himself this time, resulting in his head hitting the sharp edge of the countertop, and the bottles crashing against the floor, one of them breaking.
Blood slowly seeped out onto the porcelain tiles, stemming from the cut on Tubbo's head. The broken glass lay beside him on the floor.

Tommy suddenly began to tune out Wilbur and Quackity's flirtatious threats, his breath hitching suddenly as something suddenly felt very wrong. He gulped lightly, his chest felt tight and his gut felt like it was fluttering. He looked around the horizon, listening in to his surroundings despite Wilbur and Quackity, had Dream escaped? ...It couldn't be, the alarm wasn't going off. '...I feel like I should check on Tubbo, besides, if something is wrong, I'm safer with him.' He sighed, turning to the rivals, "Wilbur, I'm going to head out."
Wilbur and Quackity both paused to glance at Tommy, and Wilbur's expression softened. "Is... Something wrong, Tommy?"
"I dunno." He shrugged, hugging himself, "Maybe, I can't tell. I think I'll feel safer once I'm home..." He managed to smile at Wilbur. "Uh- Bye, Big Q... bye Wilbur!" He waved and quickly left, making his way to Snowchester.

And after quite a long walk, he had finally come upon the home of his friends. He walked inside, shutting the large door behind him as he looked around the main hall. "Tubbo?" He spoke loudly, hoping his best friend would hear... but perhaps, he didn't. Tommy sighed, he checked the time, 'Maybe he's in his room.' He walked up the staircase and down one of the halls, but as he passed by the kitchen, the stench of blood struck him.
He instantly recoiled and gagged, covering his nose. "Oh, fuck! What the hell is that smell!?" He gulped down another gag as he walked back over to the doorway into the kitchen, only to see Tubbo injured on the floor.
His eyes widened and he let out a scream, "TUBBO!!!" He teared up and quickly ran over to Tubbo. He pushed the alcohol bottles away, ignoring the shards of glass on the floor as he kneeled down onto the floor, scooping the goat into his arms. He shook him gently, "Tubbo! Oh god-" He cried softly, but quickly wiped his tears, checking the back of Tubbo's head, where he saw the cut.