#kismet update

[mayz1er]

“May the gods strike me down if I forsake you.“ Dream is cruel, and that’s exactly what Tubbo needs.

AKA A NEW PRESIDENTIAL TIES CHAPTER EVERYONE CHEER LETS GO!!!! CHECK PINNED POST IF U WANT MORE FIC INFO/LINK

rb’s r very appreciated!!

[mayz1er]

BIG SNIPPET BC IM POSTING TODAY AJAKWJAKQKWAK

[mayz1er]

NEW CHAPTER OF PRESIDENTIAL TIES IS OUT WHAAATTT??

blood red presidential ties is a c!tubbo centric fic where he is/was a shapeshifter. how do u cope w all the trauma AND trauma from being a shapeshifter?!? you’ll see tubbo try!

here are my favourite excerpts!!

He would never believe it. What was the process of creating a human, and at one point did it become cruel to let them live? Tubbo doesn’t know, and he doesn’t want the answer, either.

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Maybe god is a poet. Maybe She has a desk made out of wood from stark white forests, maybe She twirls a quill dipped in blood ink and maybe She writes down her thoughts as poetry. Oh, what words do the gods write? And when do they truly have a meaning?

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But it was oddly cathartic. The two of them bonding over a missing friend. The mutual pain of a missing piece. Maybe it was poetic, Ranboo wouldn’t know. But it definitely made them feel a little less alone.

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As Ranboo glances at Tubbo, with his strange new golden iris that looks like an angels eye when they’re in the presence of the heavens, and pure white strands of hair and glowing cracks in his star encrusted skin and the most heartbreaking smile that screams love, they know Tubbo has come to the point where he is more than a friend.

Because Tubbo is so much more. He is something so much better.

Ranboo is not a poet, but if they were, Tubbo would be their muse.

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But where he currently stood, before his maker, with stitched together skin and an even more stitched together soul, he is not given the privilege of human ignorance.

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Even though Tubbo and love don’t have the same amount of syllables, Ranboo thinks they’re synonymous, anyways.

check it out!! this chapter had a lot of fluff :D (i’m lying)

(but beta reader jaz says that it’s best chapter so far, so read it!1!)

[mayz1er]

young love – a poem (poem?) from chap17 pieced back together

you are the youngest you’ve ever been.

you leave trails of stardust in your wake, growing flowers from your blood, a voice that sounds like a song and words like a cry for help.

you are the youngest you’ve ever been.

you stare at broken moons and the damage that’s come from them; splitting rock as it ravages atmospheres and all you can do is hope that it doesn’t come your way.

you are the youngest you’ve ever been.

you stare at the skyline, the stars, the heavens. startlingly, you find that you aren’t as afraid of them as you once were.

you stare at the skyline, the stars, the heavens, and you start to think of them as less than a whistle for war and more like the whisper of the kind wind.

you are the youngest you’ve ever been.

you’ve made a lot of mistakes; that’s what young people do. young people live and grow and they make mistakes that claw deep into their skin and they find ways to treat it.

you are the youngest you’ve ever been.

you’re afraid of growing up, sometimes. you’ve seen how life wears you down with each birthday. alcohol, family feuds, suicide, broken love. you’re afraid of growing up like that and then you realize you’ve done all those before.

you’re the youngest you’ve ever been.

this is young love, you’re experiencing. young love, that’s said to wear away in following decades.

this is young love, but it won’t wilt. it will only grow, older and stronger and ever so love.

you’re the youngest you’ve ever been, and the most loved you’ve felt since the universe crafted you from broken porcelain pots and flowers coiled around the earth.

you’re the youngest you’ve ever been, and the most loved you’ve felt in all your years of living.

edit: i’m clearing out my drafts and realizing i forgot to post this LMAOO i hope there r no typos

[mayz1er]

omg look and drista and tubbo!! they’re having so much fun 2gether they’re besties :DD

[mayz1er]

NEW PRESIDENTIAL TIES CHAPTER :DD THE SECOND TO LAST ONE (check pinned post for more info :D)

my favourite parts from chapter 17 (this young love):

There are no gods when you’re healing. People think there are, a lot of people think there are. A lot of people kneel on weak knees and pray with bursting veins and sunken eyes and they whisper with wilted breaths against the thin fabric of their hospital gowns.

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Healing is labyrinthian. Gods did not help Daedalus carve the maze for the minotaur.

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There was something unsaid lingering in the room. Quackity sat in front of Tubbo as Tommy rested on his shoulder. The remnants of tears that felt like rose quartz slip from water lines and Quackity looks like he’s seen god. Tubbo wants to test that theory out.

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Quackity finished the stitching, tying a knot, cutting the thread and putting the scissors down. He pointedly looked at the axe settled beside him, looking in Tubbo’s eyes. They found that they could understand each other quite well without words. Maybe it was a shapeshifter thing. Maybe it was a Quackity and Tubbo thing.

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Two god descendants sit in a room, and they watch each other with mismatched eyes. They’ve both looked death in the eyes. They look at each other, and they meet the same fate. Neither of them are holy, but maybe, eventually, they’ll be okay.

Tubbo hopes so, at least.

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There are no gods in healing. There’s only love and struggle and then love again.

hi y’all it’s the second to last chapter if i follow my outline i am very sad aboutit not not too sad so it’s okay hope you enjoy it!! and if u haven’t read it and u like ctubbo centric long fics maybe check it out :]

[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.

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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.

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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?

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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.)

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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.

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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.

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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]

updates, people, updates!!