#ivantill fic

[skzkiof]

For Ivantill prompts can I request maybe something where Ivan tries to care of Till who is in a depressive episode. It can be post-round 6 where they both made it out or pre-round 6, but either way Till is struggling with his mental health.

1.8k; accepting ivantill prompts

“I know the healer said you were fine…” Mizi paused, side-eyeing him, “but you were still shot in the side, you know.”

Ivan ignored her, focusing on getting down the hallway without stumbling. If he stumbled even once, he knew Mizi would drag him back to his room. “You said he wasn’t eating.”

“I—” Mizi sighed, shoulders slumping. “I did, and I’m realizing maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”

It was his turn to side-eye her, “I would’ve never forgiven you.”

“Mm.” She let out a huff of air that sounded almost like a laugh. “I know you’re worried. So am I. But this isn’t exactly surprising, Ivan.”

He paused. “We were saved. He’s safe.”

“You’re both safe,” she corrected firmly before visibly softening, reaching out to grasp one of his hands.

He let her, staring into her eyes. The difference was almost startlingly; no longer did she have the bright eyes of the girl he had known. The kindness was still there, he surmised it always would be, but the light had dimmed.

“It isn’t as easy as just getting saved,” she said quietly. “That doesn’t undo the damage. Especially—” She paused, looking away for a moment. When she looked back, she squeezed his hand. “He still saw you get shot, Ivan.”

He stiffened a little. “It was just a flesh wound.” He tried to tug his hand away; Mizi held on with a surprising tightness.

“You have always underestimated yourself, Ivan,” she looked almost sad, and it made his skin feel itchy all over. “He cares for you. Deeply.”

Finally he managed to free his hand, ignoring the too-loud thumping in his chest. “I need to see him.”

“Okay,” she agreed easily now, smiling with that same tinge of sadness that made him feel too exposed.

-

Ivan opened the door and peered inside. He wasn’t too surprised to find Till asleep; Mizi had also informed him that he was sleeping most of the time.

Gently he shut the door behind him, wincing when the metal hinges creaked loudly, but one glance at the bed and it was obvious Till was still asleep.

Walking to the bed, he admired Till for a silent moment. He found himself counting his breaths before stopping himself with a firm shake of his head.

He didn’t need to worry about that, not anymore. Till was safe.

Slowly he eased himself into the chair by the bed. For a moment longer, he sat there and watched Till. At first glance, he looked peaceful, but after a while Ivan started to notice little details—a tiny furrow between his eyebrows, a twitch in his jaw—that made him realize that might not be the case. Even in sleep, he seemed haunted.

He was safe, but he didn’t feel it. Or believe it. In the end, that was all that mattered.

Ivan thought back to what Mizi had said. Had he been the cause of this? Surely not. Ivan being shot in front of him was hardly the most traumatic thing Till had ever experienced.

It was only when Till made a muffled sound in the very back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a sob that Ivan forced himself to move. Leaning onto the side of the bed, he reached out and brushed his knuckles against Till’s jaw.

Even that featherlight touch was enough to have him scrambling awake, tangling himself in the blanket as he hurried to sit up. Ivan quickly leaned back, giving him space.

After he calmed down, Ivan noticed two things: his eyes were dull—even duller than they’d been on stage—and the dark circles under them were so dark he looked sick.

“Hey,” he greeted. For once, he understood what it felt like to be unsure of what to say.

Till stared at him. Once it was obvious he wasn’t going to respond, Ivan glanced around. He found what he was looking for on the bedside table.

“I heard you haven’t been eating,” he continued, grabbing the bowl. It was a mix of fruits. Mizi had mentioned something about it being easy on the stomach and refreshing. Obviously Till hadn’t felt the same way.

Till still said nothing. Ivan ignored the tightness in his chest.

“You’re recovering,” he said. “You need to eat.”

Still nothing. Ivan swallowed. He needed to tread carefully, he knew that, but that was more of Mizi’s expertise. He usually never thought twice about what he was going to say or do.

Just as he was opening his mouth to try again, Till sniffed once and said, “I should be mad at you right now.” Ivan’s mouth snapped shut. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he wasn’t going to interrupt. Till breathed out slowly. “But I don’t even have it in me.”

Ivan gently set the bowl aside. “I’m—”

“If you apologize, I’m going to start crying.”

Ivan pressed his lips together. Till hadn’t even cried on the stage, or immediately after, but Ivan wasn’t going to test him.

“I…” Till looked down; Ivan followed his line of sight and watched as Till fidgeted, nearly drawing blood with how roughly he was picking at his cuticles. He resisted the urge to stop him. Not yet. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Ivan.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he assured, and he meant it. They were all a little screwed up, but wasn’t that to be expected? “You’re just upset.”

Till let out a wet sounding scoff. “Upset?” he repeated with an intensity that made Ivan feel a little shaken, “I know what upset feels like, Ivan. I’ve been upset. This is—this is like I’m going to burst. Any second.”

“If you do,” Ivan placed his hand on the bed, though he didn’t quite touch him, “I’ll be here for you.”

Till sniffled. “You kissed me on stage without consent but now you won’t even touch me?”

“I’m working on bettering myself,” he replied easily. It was a joke as much as it was the truth. He had no intention of betraying Till’s trust again.

Till let out a pitiful attempt at a laugh. Without a word, he placed his hand palm up on his thigh, a silent invitation. Ivan hesitated for only a second before he slid their hands together, fingers intertwining. He spotted a bloody patch on Till’s thumb from where he had obviously picked at the skin too much.

“I should be relieved,” Till continued after a lull in conversation, so quietly Ivan could barely hear him. “I should… I’m lucky. I know that. I just—”

He paused, glanced at Ivan quickly before looking away again, jaw tight.

“You can tell me.” Ivan squeezed his hand. He hated knowing Till was still suffering. He was naive for ever thinking it was going to just disappear if they somehow got to safety. Even back when they were children, it was a foolish dream.

Till shrugged weakly. “I… You can’t get mad.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Ivan breathed in. “I won’t.” A beat. A skeptical look from Till. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Till looked ahead, staring at nothing, just the blank wall across from them. “I kind of wish I had died.”

Ivan made an effort to keep his voice as calm as possible, “I’m glad you didn’t.” Then, “I wouldn’t have let you.”

He saw Till smile out of the corner of his eye. It was small, a little sad. “Obviously not,” he agreed quietly. “You let yourself get shot for me.” He shook his head. “I am—um. Thankful,” he said, “I know it doesn’t seem like it. It’s just—”

Ivan waited, knowing he just needed time. Ignored the heavy thumping in his chest, the sudden urge to vomit.

“I think it’d be… easier,” Till’s voice grew a little more shaky with every word, “I don’t know. To not. Deal with any of this.” Ivan didn’t comment on the growing wetness in his eyes, or the tremble in his jaw. “It’s like, I’m expected to be thankful. Or–or something. And I am, I mean.” Till cursed quietly, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s hard to explain.”

Ivan brushed his thumb over his knuckles. “Try?”

Till opened his eyes, just enough to glance over at him. Swallowing thickly, he looked ahead again and shook his head. “I don’t know… Now I have to learn how—how to deal with this shit. Sometimes surviving is harder, I think.”

It was odd. Ivan had never really thought of it like that. What after would look like for them.

“You’re not alone,” he said finally.

Till nodded, scrubbed roughly at his face with his free hand. “I—I think I need a little more sleep.” He sniffed. “I’m tired.”

Ivan glanced at the fruit. “Okay,” he agreed quietly, “but you have to try to eat when you wake up, even if you don’t feel hungry.”

For a moment, Till didn’t answer. Ivan tugged on his hand lightly.

“Till,” he said. He waited until Till finally glanced at him. “I never really cared if I lived or died.”

His eyes widened, just a little. Ivan thought back to the first day he had met Till, the first moment he realized Till was different. Maybe the others hadn’t realized it, but he had. Somehow he had made Ivan feel alive, despite all odds.

“But I always cared that you lived,” he continued steadily. “As long as you’re here, I’m satisfied.”

Till sniffed. “I don’t want to hear that,” he said wetly. “I don’t want you to die. For me or anyone.”

“Okay,” Ivan agreed easily. “How about this, then?” He took Till’s hand in both of his, cradling it with care. Like it was the most important thing in the world. To him, it was. “No matter how hard it is, or how bad it gets, we hold on for each other?”

Till let out a pitiful sound. “That’s really—” He looked away. “That’s really fucking cheesy, even for you.”

“Want to know the worst part?” Ivan whispered. Till eyed him. “I mean every word of it.”

Till snorted. It wasn’t a laugh, not quite, but it was enough for now. Ivan grinned, bringing their hands up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to Till’s knuckles. He made a face but didn’t pull his hand away, which just made Ivan feel more emboldened. He moved up and pressed a kiss to Till’s wrist; his skin was pale, even for him, nearly translucent, probably from being locked away underground and malnourished.

“Answer the question,” he breathed against his skin.

Till shook his head. “You’re—I can’t believe you sometimes.” He reached up with his free hand, hesitated for a second, before pressing his hand into Ivan’s hair. “Okay,” he agreed softly.

Ivan felt the tightness in his chest loosen, just a little.

[eratosword]

(is this as good as it gets?)

“You said sex is—” He takes a deep breath and ignores the heat in his cheeks. “That it’s a stress reliever. Right?” “I believe I did,” Ivan says, nodding, and then he still waits for Till to elaborate. Is he stupid? Is this not clear enough? Till averts his gaze, frowning, and he scratches his head aggressively. “I need to relax, okay? Are you going to help me or do I have to look for someone else?”

ivantill enter a fwb situation. it goes as well as you could expect.

16,925 words. complete. rated E for explicit sexual content. written for @/yamscooper for the ivantill exchange!

[atrophiedemotion]

it's my heart that you're stealing

read it on ao3

ivan/till. alternate universe- modern setting, college/university. friends with benefits, feelings realization.

rated M (subject to change). 3,010 words. 2/?. warning for weed/recreational drug use.

summary:

What comes out of his mouth ends up being, "Should we kiss?" It's only when Till sees the confusion in Ivan's eyes that he realizes Ivan wasn't inside Till's mind and reading his thoughts for the past few minutes. He should probably clarify. "Not right now. Just like, in general, you know?"

While high at a party, Till suggests being friends with benefits to Ivan. Things become complicated when Till's own feelings get involved.

[questerine]

CHAT. i just finished reading all the worlds a (alien) stage by @realfakedokja and it genuinely altered my brain chemistry. PLEASE GO READ IT AND SEND 8970 KUDOS IT IS SO GOOD IT MADE ME KICK MY FEET AND GIGGLE UNCONTROLLABLY.

[kuroartsdotcom]

She gestures to the window and Ivan pauses to look at his reflection. He still looks largely the same as a couple days ago, thin and pale. But he looks better in a way that he can only describe as refreshed and most of all, his hair remains curly but neater.  Seeing it now, it sparks something in him that he can’t describe. Only something along the lines of ‘Oh, there I am.’ He’s never thought that before. There’s a lot he wants to tell her, feelings welling up inside of him. He wants to tell her about how he’s never had someone care for him so tenderly before. That no one has ever cared how he felt about how he looked. That for the first time, he’s looking at a reflection and sees himself instead of the empty void that he’s always been.  In the end, all he can bring himself to say is, “Thank you, Hyuna.”

I love this fic.

[evannotoven]

Desiderium | IVANTILL

Ongoing, Chapter 1/?, Words 9k: Friends to Lovers, Emo!Till, Jock!Ivan, College Au, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings

𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘ Fic Link Here 𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘

Ivan had never experienced love before. Usually, his crushes were short and fleeting, but with Till… It was different. Ivan thought throughout his entire life, his sister would be the only person to truly understand him. But when Till came along, he made Ivan feel new to the language that made up his entire being. Like translating text over and finding nuances to words you never would have known beforehand. Until someone took a close look at you and appreciated you in full. After only a few months together, Ivan doesn’t remember where he began or where Till ended anymore. They were emulsified.

Everyone thinks Till and Ivan are dating, which is impossible when Till is in love with Mizi. Hijinks Ensue.

[missdema]

Ivantill fic

⊱ Salt In The Wound ⊱ Link

⊱ Tags: Fluff, Angst, Established Relationship

⊱ Words: 1,028

[bluemoonscape]

Heavily heavily HEAVILY inspired by @rockwgooglyeyes' Ivantill art

Love you rock <33

[cum-villain]

ALIEN STAGE FREAKS GATHER ROUND I HAVE SPICY IVANTILL

[collectingavenuesmwue]

Alien stage created a new generation of fic searches 😔😔

PLEASEPLEASEPLWAPLSPELs GO READ THIS

[kuroi-kotoba]

There has been a nagging feeling in the back of his head from the very moment he could form a conscious thought. A piece of him is missing before he even notices. All he has are dreams, most nights filled with a black-haired boy with a blurred-out face - his source of comfort and pain.

Link click: Seek out the signs that precipitate desires: Shooting stars, falling objects

[skzkiof]

writing an ivantill zombie apocalypse au and having the time of my life so here's a little teaser for u guys :D will this trope ever stop hitting? the answer is no!

As the seconds ticked by, his vision adjusted more to the dark and he realized the man was not at all what he’d been expecting. His face was expressionless - he looked more like a doll than a person - and he was surprisingly clean, dark hair falling softly over his forehead and skin clear of any dirt. Till dropped his needle with a quiet clang on the hardwood floor. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed before he even realized he was talking. Immediately he flushed, feeling like an idiot. The man pressed the blade closer to his skin with narrowed eyes. He felt something wet on his neck and realized it was blood. He was so dead.

[eratosword]

HOW TO DEAL WITH GRIEF, a comprehensive guide

STEP ONE: CONSIDER YOUR POSITION STEP TWO: GO BACK   (The world insists on taking Till away from him. A step-by-step guide of how Ivan fights back).

1,550 words, complete. written for @littencloud9 for the ivantill exchange!

[atrophiedemotion]

53! For the writing game :)

hi geo!! thank you for the song! i love the bad suns cover of lovefool :) okay, this one is very silly and kind of ooc ivantill that very much got away from me word count-wise.

words: 1,108. rating: t (for swearing). tags: humor, established relationship, misunderstandings. no warnings apply.

"Ivan broke up with me."

Mizi jumps up at Till's unexpected arrival, taking a few worried steps towards him. Sua seems mostly unbothered, giving him a once over to check for injuries (or damage to their door, Till can't really tell). It's quiet for a moment, Mizi and Sua both looking at Till while Till stares resolutely at the wall in front of him.

"Um," Mizi starts, ever the most comforting presence in Till's life. "Are you sure he did?"

Scratch that, then. Maybe she's given the job over to Ivan at this point, even though Ivan is obviously doing a pretty shit job at it right now.

"Do you think I'd be over here if I wasn't?" Till retorts, resigning himself to slouching on their loveseat, folding in on himself to drive the point in.

Sua gets up with an audible breath, shutting the door and returning to her place on the couch. "Alright," she begins, "what did he do? Because I'm fairly certain Ivan wouldn't break up with you unless he was being blackmailed. Or, like threatened in some way." At the incredulous look she receives from Till, she rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine, Till. That's great. You're single now, go find someone better. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Of course not." Till grumbles, throwing his head over the back of the seat cushion. He hates going to Sua for advice. She's always right, and awfully annoying about it. Unfortunately, going to Mizi meant going to Sua, too.

Mizi, bless her, still looks unendingly confused.

"Till, I don't want to downplay whatever happened, but can you walk us through it?" She asks, settling herself on the arm of the loveseat. She puts a comforting hand on Till's shoulder, but Till only felt it as a weight sinking him further into the cushion.

"Okay," he breathed, psyching himself up for making a fool of himself. No, he reminds himself, Ivan made a fool out of him. "Well, we had a date planned today. At the coffee shop on third?"

Mizi and Sua nod in acknowledgement. They look like they're on the edge of the their seats. Mizi, especially, looks worryingly close to slipping off and landing half on him and half on the floor. Having their full attention on him like this is a little disorienting, if he's being honest.

"And, uh, we planned to meet at four, after his shoot, but he didn't show up. I stayed there until six." Their eyes widen, but they gesture for him to continue instead of commenting.

"He's never been late to a date," he tells them. "He's always early, actually. But he never showed. And," he says emphatically, "and he hasn't answered my calls or texts. And then I texted his manager, and she said Ivan had already left for the day around one."

His friends just look at him, more confused than anything.

"So he has to be dumping me, right? Ivan's never done anything like this. He always answers my calls." Till huffs a breath through his nose, trying to cover up the frustrated tears welling in his eyes.

"Till," Sua says, voice grave and serious. "You're being a dumbass right now."

Well, ouch.

Sua continues before Till can get- rightfully- defensive. "Ivan would never do this, you're right. I'm more concerned about something being wrong with him than him breaking up with you."

Oh. Oh shit.

How did he not think of that?!

Till shoots up immediately, on his feet so fast it was as if his seat burnt him. "Oh fuck," he breathes, "what if something's wrong? What if he's hurt? I have to go to his apartment. Now."

So he does. He doesn't spare another second for wondering, he's out of Mizi and Sua's apartment like that, with nothing more than a, "Thanks!" thrown over his shoulder.

The drive to Ivan's apartment is short, what with Till driving ten over the speed limit the entire time. When he arrives, Till is out of his car so fast he almost forgets his keys, and definitely forgets to lock it. He's a mess at Ivan's door, bypassing knocking and going straight for unlocking it with his spare key.

Ivan's apartment is eerily quiet when he enters. Till walks in cautiously, eyeing his surroundings as if he doesn't practically live here. It looks normal. Meticulously neat sans some of Till's drawings and a few instruments, but normal. Like Ivan isn't home at all.

The worry grows in Till's stomach, his mind writing him a horrifying story of Ivan being out with someone else, maybe one of his model friends- when he hears it. A snore.

Is- is Ivan asleep?

But Ivan doesn't snore. Oh, god- what if he is with someone else?

The thought propels Till further into the apartment and to Ivan's room. He throws the door, left ajar, open unceremoniously, and freezes in his tracks at the sight that greets him.

It's Ivan, just Ivan, asleep in his bed, looking like shit.

Well, Ivan never really looks like shit, at least in Till's opinion, but he certainly looks off. His shoes are still on and he's fallen asleep on top of the covers, still clad in the blazer and dark khakis he undoubtedly wore to work. His face is visibly flushed, cheeks pink and forehead sweaty, and Till vaguely registers the snoring compared with his appearance and- oh.

Oh.

Ivan is sick.

Ivan didn't ditch him, isn't planning on breaking up with him. He's just sick.

Sick, and stupid enough not to come to Till about it.

Till approaches, placing a gentle hand over Ivan's forehead. Hot. Figures.

He pushes sweaty strands of Ivan's hair away from his face, and finds that all of the tension in his body has loosened.

"Idiot," he murmurs fondly, cupping Ivan's face. "Let me help next time."

He carefully takes Ivan's blazer and shoes off, then brings the blanket up over him properly. Next is a damp rag placed on his forehead, and then Till is in the kitchen texting his mom to make sure he's getting the soup recipe right.

It's the least he can do, he thinks. He's not exactly used to relationships, definitely not ones with someone like Ivan, who cares so much about Till and so little about himself. He has to remind himself, sometimes, that he is Ivan's priority, not Ivan. And that Ivan would overwork himself sick if he wasn't checked up on.

Till hopes Ivan can taste his unspoken apology in the soup. It's the first step, of many, he'll be taking to make sure Ivan knows he's Till's priority.

-

the sillies being silly! the song made me want to touch on till's insecurities in a humorous way, since the bad suns version is a lot more upbeat. and that turned into till mourning their relationship that hasn't even ended, lmao. i hope you liked it geo <3!! and anyone else who stumbled upon it ofc

[moshaeu]

from a breath before the fall

[evannotoven]

Desiderium | IVANTILL ch.5

Ongoing, Chapter 5/?, Words 44k: Friends to Lovers, Emo!Till, Jock!Ivan, College Au, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings

𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘ Fic Link Here 𓂃 ࣪⋆💿˚ ༘

Ivan felt like he was on a cloud and floating through the atmosphere. The only thing that was holding him down was Till’s gravity. His warmth was a vice that had sunk its fangs into his very flesh down to the bone. And he loved the way he felt like he’d never be let go. He wanted to tell him. He needed to tell him. But his mouth couldn’t form the shapes of vowels and consonants of anything palpable. Vocal cords were cut, frayed, or pulled until they started to rip apart piece by piece. There wasn’t even a script he’d prepared ahead of time. Just the echoes of sentences he’d formed in his head but never committed to memory.

Ivan decides to confess.