yusicrumbs

[yusicrumbs]

Glitched Voices | "Fighter" Till x "Courier" Ivan

[ Idea Post! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o ]

A futuristic/fantasy au inspired by some of the elements of Soul Eater! Humans now possess a unique skill for weaponry to fight off aliens.

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[ Couriers ] - Humans who bear the specialized weapons for the Fighters they are connected to. The weapon can only be brandished by their connected Fighter.

They are blessed with excellent memories that allow them to provide information in support of their Fighters.

[ Fighters ] - The frontliners connected to Couriers. Their bond with their Courier brings the creation of their specialized weapon to life.

They have a high pain tolerance and pick up physical activities pretty quickly. They are typically under restraints due to temperament.

= = = = = = = = = = =

There was always one. Just one person that a human became connected to throughout their life time. As either a courier or a fighter, these connections were born between those with a strong desire to protect and to support.

Till, now having been a fighter fourteen years, strayed away from the bright-eyed newcomers that arrived on the frontlines to fight the segyeins. He had long forgotten the name, the face—just about everything of the person who stood by his side as his courier.

Couriers were the only ones that could bear the weapon for a fighter—their bodies held the weapons oriented specifically for the fighter...and now Till had nothing. It had been fourteen years since he became a frontline fighter.

Five of those fourteen years had been the time following his courier's death. But, Till stood on the frontlines, now even leading a group against the impending threat of the aliens with nothing more than an ordinary weapon.

Until the day arrived where he met a stray courier...one bearing the smile and a scarlet speckled gaze that struck him as familiar.

"Pleasure to meet you."

He donned the collar of the segyeins and held an empty smile that shed no lights of joy. The strange courier guided Till's fingers to his chest, revealing the weight of his presence with a hollow stare.

The connection activated between the two of them.

Till brandished his weapon from within the courier—the same weapon that his deceased courier provided him with. But, rather than feeling relief, Till felt rage.

"You said you burned his body. You said that there was nothing!"

"You took me too his gravesite! What was in that urn?!"

Fourteen years as a fighter.

Five years grieving for his courier.

Till was thirty by the time he realized that the officials in charge of those bearing "connections" would toss them aside at the drop of a hat.

"We sold his body to the segyeins."

Those assholes.

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old idea! sci-fi based world~

[yusicrumbs]

Happy (or not) belated cure anniversary

[yusicrumbs]

Bourbon Memories | Mafia Till x Undercover Cop Ivan

[ Idea Post! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o ]

After spending years undercover, Ivan had finally made his way into the top brass of the Edelweiss Group—the wealthiest crime syndicate in Anakt City that was notorious for its weapon trades—and stood with the Boss's inner circle.

A lot had changed since he began his journey of infiltrating this group—Ivan always sighed whenever the thought of returning to his normal life at the station came to him.

But his job was never supposed to come easy. Hell, he had heard so many tales of undercover cops working to the point they became criminals themselves.

However, his motivation to become an undercover cop rested elsewhere—it's what fueled his commitment to this nearly six year operation. Every night—no—anytime he closed his eyes he would see the past.

The past where that 'he' existed.

The past where 'his' fingers—ones typically rough and ready for a fight—moved gracefully over the strings of a scarlet guitar as a smile touched 'his' lips.

It was a time where Ivan would smile alongside him, soaking up the notes of his beautiful melody that would muster up the loose lyrics of a faded story, and relish the moments they spent together.

It was a time where the news of that devastating traffic accident and the fact that nothing was left of 'him'…didn't exist.

However, fate had led him to the Edelweiss Group's doors as the news from that accident left Ivan with one piece of information: the Edelweiss Group's name was tied to cause of it.

It's been eleven years since the accident. Ivan was ready to find some answers—to know the name of the person who led the group that had its name leaked on the news.

But as the doors opened to the top brass meeting, Ivan's eyes widened, his hand faltered, and he was left without words.

That familiar head of gray-hair greeted him again. A smile—one so different yet similar to the one in his memories—greeted the group.

"Welcome, newcomers."

His hair, his eyes, his smile—it was all the same.

Only the ashen fingertips of a whirring mechanical arm broke away from the memories.

Ivan's lips parted, a sudden release and emptiness lingering in his limbs.

And his voice pushed to say the name that had been a forbidden word for eleven years.

"Till."

The year Ivan turned seventeen became a changing point in his life. The year of his twenty-eighth had brought another spark of change.

"Till… Till…"

The boss of the Edelweiss Group was the boy from his memories.

His dearest Till.

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Mafia AU my beloved....

[yusicrumbs]

Nameless Light | Nowhere-Inspired!

The fire crackled with a blazing light, leaving the trails off warmth to reach out and touch his skin. But it wasn't enough. It didn't stave off the frigidness that stained his bones and cursed his nerves.

It was pointless.

The cold was too much. There were only a few people surrounding him now—the others had gone off and now sat in the stretches of shadows with a hollow look in their eyes.

He wondered if they were alive.

Alive. It was a strange word.

So many of the adults he heard in passing held onto the words 'life', 'alive', and 'survive' as if they were difficult to achieve.

All they had to do was sit in front of a fire and eat and drink when they had the chance. It wasn't hard.

It wasn't hard…but ever since he saw those glittering spots marking the skies that time…'life' seemed to have taken on a different form.

There were spots of lights in places he never expected there to be. Lights lit up the eyes of the kids around him when food arrived.

It made him believe that, perhaps, 'life' wasn't such a tragic tale after all. Maybe there was a word for this attachment—he didn't know what it was called—but the light lingered in his life…and he found himself secretly searching for more.

Even just a look, a brief look, would give him some semblance of this unknown word. Did he want to understand it? He wasn't sure. But he wanted to see it, observe every detail, and hold the image in his mind.

Those 'lights' that redefined 'life' for him. What were they?

Then he met him. The one who basked in the light, living with a voice abundant with the comfort and warmth that those crackling flames once provided him.

What made him capable of such things?

He couldn't understand.

Each year that passed since the canvas of those glittering skies, the idea of 'brightness' and 'light' became so foreign. Upon entering the gaze of the aliens, 'darkness' and 'cold' became strangely reassuring to him.

It was what he knew.

It was what he understood.

It was the only thing he was good for.

His smile brought delight to the aliens. His 'kindness' brought smiles to the other children of Anakt Garden.

Maybe he was destined to live in a monochrome world. Maybe that was the story that was written out for him.

But as the rain fell on his face and the sharp sounds of something reached his ears…Ivan felt a final release.

As the chill of the bloody waters seeped into the thin shield of his clothing, he was 'glad'. He was 'happy'. He was 'satisfied'.

The one who understood the light—

Till—would live. He would live in a bright pathway enhanced by the power in his voice and the strength of his actions.

Till was so brilliant and bright as if he were the sun.

Ivan merely relished the fact that he was allowed to even be near such a vibrant individual.

He was sure that, if he closed his eyes while laying under the pressures of the falling rain, that he would hear it.

The sounds of cold winds and crackling flames.

But…he didn't mind.

He got to see that light one last time.

…

If only he knew what it was called.

END.

[yusicrumbs]

Smile of Peace | #tiivweek - Side Story

( Weeping Vows - Day 5 #tiivweek submission - Extra! )

As the grass warmed and the sun fell asleep, time faded past the one with a hazy gaze.

[ Angst | Death | Ex-Soldier Till x Angel Ivan ]

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Till grew up seeing his mother as the strongest person in the entire world, often smiling at her strength and persistence in land ridden with war.

So, the day she became an angel—he believed that angels were the strongest in the entire world because his mother was one now.

"Mom's strong."

—Ivan didn't feel strong.

"Mom was courageous."

—Ivan didn't feel courageous.

"Mom was everything to me."

—Ivan wished he had remained nothing to Till.

If he was nothing to him… Till wouldn't climb that hill every morning, dragging an ailing leg behind him as he made his way up the slope.

If he was nothing… Till would've ran off and lived his life after the war had ended.

But Ivan stood helpless, empty, hollow—guided by nothing but the ghost of his living days tracing his ring finger. It burned with the searing embers of responsibility and promise—a promise that Ivan could no longer fulfill.

He could only watch, wait, and hope.

Hope, plead, beg—something—that Till wouldn't wither away in that field of scarlet flowers.

Each day, a part of him faded—died—and became nothing.

First it was the valor in his eyes.

Then his health.

His warmth would be next.

"Till… Till please…!" Ivan begged, groping the air in attempt to reach him—reach Till and tell him to move on with his life.

To move on from him.

But Till wouldn't look at him.

He couldn't. No matter how much Ivan silently pined for his gaze, Till wouldn't be able to look his way anymore.

Days passed with Ivan's desperate words meeting the empty air that consumed Till's light.

Was it his fault? Was it his selfishness that caused this?

Was it because those deep wounds of emotions lingered in the living world beyond his death that Till was now suffering?

"Till, please forget."

"Till… Please move on…!"

Sunrise turned into sunsets, days turned into weeks, and the eerie tranquility that fought against Ivan's unreachable words continued to consume Till whole.

A part of him twisted and churned, burning at the sight of Till shifting from that valiant soldier he remembered…

…to a person who could no longer sit to stare out into the horizon.

His cheeks grew hollow, skin a ghostly shade—the colors of the vibrant nature seemed so much more alive while framing Till's ailing features.

It hurt.

— "Please…"

It hurt so much.

— "Please, Till…!"

He wanted to scream—but there would be no one to hear him.

"Ivan," Till whispered with a heaving chest, bringing Ivan's gaze to his shadowed eyes. "Ivan… Ivan…" he murmured, turning his face towards the little rocks that marked the grave for Ivan.

"Till—"

"Ivan… Does the sun shine where you are?"

A lighthearted smile touched Till's lips as gasped for a short breath. "I hope it does… I really hope it does…" His lips seemed to tremble, his trickle of emotion getting caught by the dying sun.

"Till…" Ivan reached out, desperate to hold something warmth—alive.

Nothing. There was nothing he could do.

All he could do was nestle by Till's side as the lingering warmth from the sunlight blanketed him from the coming night.

He could only watch, wait, and apologize.

Like all the years up until that point.

"Till… Till…" Falling into the grass beside the one with faded breath, Ivan leaned in close—burrowing into the shape of Till's shoulder.

"I'm sorry." —It hurt so much to breathe.

"I'm sorry…" —It hurt to keep his eyes open.

"I'm so sorry… Till…" —Everything was in pain.

"But… Thank you…" —Something was easing up.

"Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions." —He felt free.

--------------------------

Late morning had already arrived by the time someone found him—a farmer dragging a cart through the path at the base of the hill.

Stepping past wilting petals, the farmer approached the lingering shape of life, eyes widening at the sight.

Then he took of his hat, held it to his chest, and bowed. "A fallen soldier…" he murmured, gaze tracing the form marked by old wounds before reaching the sharpened jaw marked by ailing health.

"How peaceful he must've been."

A faint smile traced the fallen soldier's lips, eyes shaded by the unknown source of a single white feather. As if a spirit, an angel, something—had come and whisked him away into a place of eternal peace.

"Good night, dear soldier."

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Gahhhh! I just had to write a side story for Day 5!

Thank you for reading this extra story!

[yusicrumbs]

Weeping Vows | #tiivweek - Day 5

When a lifetime of longing turns into an eternal promise for the one bearing those trembling hands.

[ Fantasy AU | Angst | Death | War ]

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As ashes filled those cloudy skies, Till coughed as smoke began to invade his lungs and hold him captive. The sounds of the bellowing war grew numb on his ears as he fought the strain of his wounds to get back on his feet.

He took a deep breath.

I need to live.

Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the smile marked by a snaggletooth—one brightened by the sun and decorated by the blooming red flowers of times past.

Once the war began, the two of them made a promise to each other:

"Let's meet by those red flowers once more."

Ivan was taken away by the imperial army—his affinity for fire magic put him on the front lines of the war while Till had to claw his way to the top.

The top was where Ivan was.

The top was where they would have a chance to live.

To go home.

But, before Till realized, years had passed under the strain of the vicious war—it made him wonder if that field of red flowers still remained.

Despite the doubt, he still pressed on. Fighting, screaming, begging for the day he could escape this hellish place and return to the place he adored.

One more day… Just live another day…! Till held onto those words as if they were an unforgettable spell.

A spell that would lead him back to happier times and azure skies.

And that day came back to him. Briefly.

He saw Ivan for the first time in three years at the frontline camp just before the battle many were calling "The Final Fight."

"Till…" Ivan murmured with a smile.

But the Ivan that stood before him ripped away the daylight of Till's memories. Despite the spotless white cloak he wore—a shade now dappled with the dancing shadows of the midnight fires—there was something empty, lost, and misplaced.

This was not the Ivan that Till remembered—that Till wanted to meet again.

The sight of him twisted those fantasies of sunny skies and blooming fields and brought Till back down to the sounds that consumed his every day.

Screams. Cries. Pleas.

He took a deep breath—gasping for air as Ivan continued to approach him with that unforgettable stride.

"Till… Till…" Ivan continuned to whisper as he took Till's hands into his own with that "smile." Rubbing his fingers acrossed Till's bandages Ivan lifted his gaze, moving his hand to brush back the messy ends of hair framing Till's face. "Thank you for being alive."

Those words alone made Till pull Ivan into a tight embrace, weeping in memory of who he once was. Whatever form he took on—Ivan was the only one who could lessen the weight of Till's wounds. The only one who fed him the belief that life would get better and the world would heal.

"Ivan…" he whispered at last, voice raspy from the days he spend in the midst of scorching flames.

Till tightened his grip on the back of that white cloak, staining it with the abyssal shades of his uniform. "Don't let this be the last time we see each other… Please…"

The more Till lingered in Ivan's embrace, the more he realized the weight of Ivan's words.

"Thank you for being alive."

It was as if Ivan never expected to survive the war up until that point. He didn't see himself in the future under the brilliant skies that Till was dreaming of.

He would linger behind, watching the dazzling sights framed by their ashen reality.

Till received no response to his words—Ivan was soon called away by their superiors and pulled out of that embraced he hoped would last forever.

But, as he watched Ivan's figure fade into the depths of the midnight camp—he felt uneasy.

Like Ivan would disappear into those smoky tendrils and never return to that flower field full of promises.

So he ran after him, dragging his battered wounds to reach Ivan once more.

"Ivan—!"

But Ivan spoke first.

He didn't turn around. He lifted his gaze to the hollow skies.

"I'll see you under the sun again, Till."

And then time faded, "The Final Fight" unfolded with such fierce intensity but Till found himself staring at the mages that filled the skies with their magic.

The day their enemies admitted defeat was the day Till learned that Ivan had disappeared.

He choked on his racing heart, panic numbing the words spoken by his fellow soldiers.

Where would Ivan go? Was he alive? Was he waiting for him?

Till curled his trembling hands into shaking fists and turned his gaze to the distant horizon.

The sunlight kissing the hilltops left a viridian hue on his gaze and, before he knew it, Till had taken off running.

"I will see you under the sun again, Till."

During their childhood, they often played on hilltops blanketed by the warmth of Mother Nature and those red flowers Ivan adored.

So Till pushed forward, dragging himself to take towards those hills—those memories—to reach the place where Ivan was.

= = = His hands were cold, but his smile—his smile was just like the one Till remembered.

The one he had held onto.

As Ivan laid in the bed of scarlet blossoms, Till couldn't help but adore how absolutely perfect he seemed.

"Ivan… Ivan…" he whispered. The name did not provide him solace like before—Till felt himiself crumbling away with each word he spoke.

Please don't die… Please don't disappear…

He begged and begged, pleading to anyone who would listen.

But nothing changed. Ivan's hands remained cold and his smile decorated by red flowers marked the world forever.

As the emptiness began eating away at Till, he took his trembling hands and revealed the treasure that he had been holding onto throughout the entire war.

His mother's rings.

"Ivan… Ivan…" he whispered again, taking those cold fingers into his shivering grasp and slipping the ring on. Till took a deep breath, gasping under the weight of unfamiliar emotions, and held onto what was left.

To hold on what was left of himself.

What was left of the world.

What was left of Ivan.

"Ivan…" Till leaned forward, bringing Ivan's face to his as tears began to speckle his cheeks.

"Will you meet me under the sun again in another life?"

Those were the only words Till could muster as he laid his first and final kiss upon Ivan's icy lips before their memories were buried forever.

=====

For the Day 5 Fantasy | Weddings & Funerals submission for tiiv week! I only worked on two prompts, but I enjoyed every moment of it!

Thank you for reading!

[yusicrumbs]

Shooting Star | #tiivweek - Day 7

When the balance of "forever" is broken, the presence of "freedom" takes on a new shape.

[ Rock AU | Getting Together | Injuries | Hurt/Comfort ]

= = = =

Till was eight years old when he first met the one who would reshape his life. The moment he laid eyes on that abyssal gaze glowing with touches of scarlet—Till could see the vibrant red blooms that he fell in love with during past seasons.

Ivan was the name of this new flower.

He became an irreplaceable presence in Till's life, altering his shadow to take on a new form and becoming his one and only. But, years passed before Till realized how truly precious Ivan was. He had lived blind to Ivan's affection for years and it wasn't until they were separated for some time that Till's gaze was finally cleared.

As he followed the dazzling stream of stagelights, Till's eyes brightened at that unforgettable gaze that stained his memories. The gaze that reflected something endless—like those scarlet blooms he came to love.

Love?

Till held onto the rhythm of his heartbeat as he consumed the weight of Ivan's gaze, voice, and song. An unfamiliar heat touched his cheeks—flaring when he locked eyes with Ivan—and Till took a deep breath.

Love didn't feel quite right.

It didn't capture how breathless he felt in Ivan's presence or how priceless those old memories became. There was something more—something more meaningful.

His grip tightened around the strap of his guitar case.

What is it? What are these feelings?

Till continued to ask himself those questions as he reconnected with Ivan and their lives became integrated once more. But, unlike the past, something about Ivan felt distant, empty, hollow—as if he would slip past Till's fingers if he didn't hold on tight enough.

So, months into their reconnection, as the two of them walked down the city streets after a night of practice, Till froze.

He watched as the chromatic traces of the citylights seemed to take Ivan away—sweeping up all the memories he fondly looked back upon and held onto.

"Ivan!" As his heart began to play the priceless melodies of times past, Till ignored his burning cheeks and took a step forward. "Can… Can I be selfish?"

His voice was small—like a young child fearing something unpredictable.

"Can… I hold onto you forever?"

= = = = [ Ivan POV ] = = = =

Three years had passed since Ivan had reconnected with Till—two since the two of them started to date. Every day felt like a dream, especially after Ivan joined Till's band with Hyuna and a few others.

Those days of aimlessly longing for someone out of his reach were over.

"Can I hold onto you forever?"

Ivan found himself smiling whenever he remembered those words—his chest bubbling with delight at the memory of that moment. Since the day he met Till as a young eight year old child, he had been captivated by his entirety.

The strength of his rebellious voice, the certainty in his words, and the sheer passion in his craft.

Ivan gazed upon Till's free spirit like those stars decorating the distant night—a blinking light that he vowed to keep alive.

So why?

Why did Till disappear?

He had left town almost a month ago, saying that he was going to visit his mother in the countryside, but there were no updates since he texted Ivan that he was on his way back.

What happened? Where did he go?

Ivan tightened his grip around his phone as he traced his weary gaze to the calendar on his wall—a month had passed.

Still no news.

Is it… Is it me? he wondered, holding his shaking hands while chewing his lower lip. Were these last two years really a dream?

Another week passed—Ivan continued to drown in the thoughts of "what ifs" as worry consumed his mind.

Until he received a phone call that made him toss everything aside. "Till…!" Ivan took off down the city streets where he had shared pleasant moments with Till.

Passing the places where the grabbed late-night snacks or hummed to the melodies Till was putting together, Ivan reached those rusty red steps and played a desperate song with each step.

"Isaac! Isaac, is he—"

"Get out! Get the fuck out!"

As a violent CRASH echoed out of the apartment that stood with the door hanging open, Ivan took careful steps before running into Isaac stumbling out of the room.

"Wha— Till!" The band's drummer turned around, ready to head back inside, but the door shut behind him with a SLAM.

Isaac sighed in defeat, gaze falling to the shattered glass on the floor before meeting Ivan's worried eyes. "Oh… You made it…"

Ivan took a slow step forward, tucking his trembling fingers into his palms as Isaac crouched down to pick the glass off the floor.

"What… What happened?" Ivan asked, his voice small and shaking. "Is… Is Till in there?"

With that one question alone, the tale of Till's disappearance unfolded in fill. It was speckled with bits of Isaac's uncertainty—sorrow—and Ivan strained his ears to listen.

A car accident.

Till had gotten into a car accident on his way back from the countryside and was hospitalized afterwards. Ivan didn't even need to ask "why" regarding Till's lack of communication when he heard the next few words:

"His hands… He damaged his hands."

Those skilled fingers that moved magically along the neck of a guitar—holding onto the frets with ease—were now tucked away under layers of the harsh reality.

Till's love for the guitar—one that he believed would last forever—was taken away in the blink of an eye.

Isaac left Ivan in front of Till's apartment with the promise to return the next day, but Ivan stood dumbfounded.

The freedom, the strength, the passion that he adored in Till was now about to wither away.

"Till…" Ivan reached for the doorknob, but it stood stiffly. Locked.

Placing his hand on the door, Ivan closed his eyes, hearing the faint sounds of Till's grief spilling out of the apartment. "Till. It's Ivan."

A sound shifted against the door and Ivan opened his eyes, lowering his gaze as the memories of the past came back to him.

"You said you wanted to hold onto me forever, Till. I… I could've slipped away during that month you disappeared, you know?"

No response.

"I'm sorry about your hands… I-I'm just so glad you're back, Till…"

His thoughts trailed back to the times where Till would stand on the playground, singing songs and playing all sorts of fake instruments. Ivan adored the sheer passion in his eyes—the joy that Till put toward music.

It was everything to him.

It was his entire world.

A painful silence consumed a moment, but the door soon drifted open with a slow creak. Ivan traced his gaze up from the darkness of the apartment, past the stark spots of white, and rested on Till's shadowed gaze.

"Till," Ivan whispered.He reached out for his hand, then froze briefly before moving his fingers to cup Till's cheek. "Till... Look at me."

As the warm trace of tears trickled past his fingers, Ivan's gaze softened as Till's glassy eyes revealed itself past the shadows of the night. "I... I don't know if I'll be able to play the guitar anymore," he sobbed, shakily lifting his bandaged hands to touch Ivan's against his cheek. "I'm sorry, Ivan... I'm so sorry...!"

Stepping forward, Ivan took Till into his arms and buried his face into his shoulder. Till's heartbeat paced itself with a steady rhythm—a sound that Ivan missed falling asleep to. He was here. He was alive. Till was with Ivan again. "Till... Don't be sorry," Ivan murmured with a soft smile, turning to brush away Till's tears gently.

"I'm not dating you for the band. You caught my gaze because of your free spirit."

Like the lights of a shooting star burning bright—Till glowed fabulously under the night sky when he pursued his passions. The passion that Ivan adored and held onto during the years apart.

"My dearest shooting star…" Ivan peppered Till's jawline with kisses as he took in his gaze again. Softening at memories that trickled back into his thoughts.

"You'll find your light and shine once more."

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Thank you for reading! I'll update tumblr gradually but check out my twitter @/sericrumb for more things alnst!