possessingtheproperspirit



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    Shane grabbed a teaspoon from the drawer next to him and dipped it into the sauce, turning to face Ilya with his hand cupped underneath it to catch the drips. As he moved around the island, Ilya’s pulse picked up again and his brain smashed together a montage of nights like this from some imagined future. Shane cooking for him in their kitchen, offering his creation up for Ilya’s judgement. Maybe there would be a nice playlist on. Maybe the pasta would be actual pasta, not chickpea. Maybe they’d be cooking for more than just the two of them. Christ.

    Balancing on the cusp of a something new, Ilya boards a flight to Shane's cottage for two weeks.

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    1/1
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    27 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    And yeah, Shane knew that Ilya hadn’t been okay last time he was in Russia, but Ilya had had the very real excuse of a funeral to blame things on. Ilya had downplayed it as much as he could, and Shane hadn’t been there; he’d heard the fatigue and he’d seen Ilya’s tired smile, but he hadn’t felt the way Ilya’s hands were cold the entire time he was there, hadn’t seen through the screen the way Ilya dropped eight pounds in three weeks, hadn’t kept time when there were twenty hours in Ilya’s day instead of something closer to sixteen. Or, on the flip side, for the week or two after, when there had been approximately ten conscious hours in a day.

    It was one thing to see something. It was another to feel it in your hands.

    Ilya and Shane are so, so happy for their first year married. They’re playing in Ottawa together, they’re fucking winning, they’re together and out.

    So now, after a year, Ilya should be fine. He should be great. He should not be flinching at small noises or nearly punching people off the clock or feeling like he’s drowning whenever he’s not on the ice.

    Or: Ilya Rozanov, meet your PTSD.

    Language:
    English
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    13/13
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    23 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Instead of Shane, it is Ilya who suffers a concussion during the Boston-Montreal game in April 2017. Dazed and agitated, Ilya briefly starts speaking and responding only in Russian and the medics can’t calm him down. Luckily, Shane started studying Russian after Ilya spoke to him in Russian on the phone from Moscow. For no particular reason. Certainly not because he’s fallen in love with Ilya Rozanov.

    In Montreal with lingering concussion symptoms, Ilya is advised not to fly home for a few days, and the hospital won’t release him without assurances that he has someone to stay with him until his symptoms improve. Luckily, Shane conveniently has a condo in Montreal no one knows about and a few days before he has to travel again.

    But Ilya’s symptoms don’t resolve after a few days. Which is okay; Shane can handle it. He can take care of Ilya, study Russian, lead his team into the playoffs, and keep Ilya’s continued presence in Montreal a secret. He can do everything, no problem. He is Shane Hollander after all.

    or

    A whump fanfiction that is secretly a fix-it.

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    English
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    49,003
    Chapters:
    20/20
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    30 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

    -
    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

    Language:
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    90,801
    Chapters:
    12/12
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    23 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya had told Shane to leave because they needed space - they needed some room to catch their breath so they could talk about things properly. So they could say sorry and fix the mess they had made. But one day apart stretched into two, into three, into a week, and suddenly Shane was on the other end of the phone, saying, ”Maybe this isn’t going to work, Ilya.”

    At least Ilya is good at that part; he’s an expert in being left behind.

     

    (Or, Ilya and Shane breakup. Then the Centaurs’ plane almost crashes.)

    Language:
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    13 May 2026