#kismet!tommy

[mayz1er]

LOOK LOOK NEW CHAPTER OF PRESIDENTIAL TIES!!

blood red presidential ties my fic based after l’manberg’s death but before tommy’s death. it’s a little study study of tubbo’s (unhealthy) coping mechanisms. it’s also kinda an angel/god au oh and he’s a shapeshifter and tubbo is super duper cool in it so u shud read it!!

cool lines from chapter 13:

Then they looked at him. They had looked at him, with their emerald ruby eyes, with a look on their face that searched for something in his. Tubbo hopes Ranboo found what he was looking for.

They looked at him so kindly, so fondly like he was the only thing in the world. He wanted to puke, or cry, or maybe both.

When has Ranboo started looking at him like he was worth looking at?

+

Death will leave you hollow, an empty shell of someone you used to be. Maybe you'll become someone different, maybe you’ll love the same way you did before, maybe you’ll never love again at all. Death is tricky. She is tricky, She is kind, She is unbearably cruel.

+

The cracks in your skin stream along your arms and legs like your circulatory system, looping and twisting and turning and containing the blood of gods. Or maybe the stardust from the sun.

You plant seeds in the cracks of your skin. You will plead them to grow and live and bloom. You hope and pray that you can make some kind of beauty out of the horrid cracks in your skin. The cracks that will never go away.

The cracks will never go away, and will Tommy ever come back?

+

“Hey, Tubbo?” Tommy said as Tubbo chewed.

“Hm?”

“Let’s be friends forever, okay?”

Tubbo swallows his last bit of orange. The scent of the bitter cold and citrus is thick in the air. The sin filled apple was not on his mind.

“Maybe. Maybe, Tommy.” And somehow, that answer had been enough for him.

+

Her face is painted in grief, every monotone stroke of her expression. The only way he could describe the way she looks is a mirror right before it breaks; when the glass shatters and cracks, but the pieces haven’t fallen yet. She looks so incredibly broken, held together by only her skin.

She searches for something in his face. Was she looking for a lie? A hint of truth, a peek on what he knew? Tubbo doesn’t know. He hopes she finds what he’s looking for.

+

“We were never good people, starlight. We were just kids trying to survive.”

+

(I recognize you from your presence alone. Your spirit is too strong for me to ignore. I love you too much to not see your presence. I’m blind, but I can recognize your voice.)

Tommy holds out his hand, and Tubbo runs to grab it.

this chapter was such a pain to write pls check it out so it was worth the hours of sleep i lost /hj

[mayz1er]

OMG NEW PRESIDENTIAL TIES CHAPTER ON ITS BIRTHDAY???

it is becoming increasingly harder to summarize it so. tubbo is a shapeshifter, and blood red presidential ties is almost like a study on his relationships and coping mechanisms. there’s a sprinkle of gods and goddesses and religious metaphors and also an old friend he’s left behind has found him. who’s the friend, u might ask? read it to find out!

my favourite parts from chapter 14:

Maybe, in Tubbo’s arms, the world is still. Just for a moment, just for them. Because Ranboo is gripping the back of his sweater for dear life and they’re crying and it burns. Tubbo’s heart is slow but it’s beating and they know he’s alive and maybe that will settle their burns.

+

Ranboo is not a poet. They’ve never been much of a liar, either. So they tell the truth, plain and simple. Plain and simple, like the words Tommy is dead or I love you or because it’s you or maybe just the word stars.

+

When is the next time you will be able to say I love you? Will it be tomorrow? How will you know? What if you don’t say it at all, and you keep waiting for the next day, and what if that next day never comes?

+

Tubbo is not a poet, but he knows the gods are. The universe sits with Her crown crafted of the souls of humans, carefully glued together by tears of the sun. She sits at the top of the world, the top of whole galaxies, or dimensions. The universe sits on Her throne of mortal bones and She holds a quill and dips it in blood ink. She’ll write the lives of mortals and She'll kill them off like Shakespheare did to his players.

Perhaps the universe is Shakespeare, and maybe he is Lady Macbeth.

(On second thought, he is much more like Ophelia.)

+

The rest of the night is spent whispering secrets side by side. They're not actually secret, because Tubbo has so many stories he doesn't want to tell and Ranboo can't remember his own, but it feels like nights with a lantern under covers, under the stars. Tubbo feels like a child again, and somehow, somewhere, maybe in the crevices of the cracks of his skin, he feels a little better.

+

He wonders if tomorrow will have any meaning. He wonders if today held any.

He's not quite a poet, but grief tastes like copper and citrus.

+

Tubbo sits atop Tommy's house. The grass crawls over his ankles and links him to the ground, he wonders that if he let it, they would cover him in dirt. Flowers sprout from his blood, because he claws at his skin and he wants to get out of his re-sewn soul and he doesn't like the way his bones feel like they are made for a god's throne and he is so tired and he doesn’t think he wants to be part of the skyline anymore.

check it out maybe,.., pretty please,,., it’s the 3 month birthday of it,,.

[mayz1er]

by the way there’s a bit of a time skip from chapter 14 to chapter 15. it’s not really mentioned cuz it’s not that important, but it’s been around 3 weeks since tommy’s died

[mayz1er]

the gardener in chapter thirteen is tommy by the way that was done on purpose