Rayihaza



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    They pulled in a man, bound by his wrists and throat, the lower half of his face hidden beneath a metal muzzle. He walked with a limp, weighed down by the chains on his body and stumbled as the guards pulled at the chains viciously, just barely able to keep himself upright.

    It took a moment for the scent to fill the room. 

    Or: Rebel Leader Ilya gets captured and presented to the Crown Prince of the Empire, Shane. By logic, they should hate each other. Something's in the air that makes it hard to.

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    11 Apr 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    VROOM

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    Shane didn't know what he should say, what he could say. They hadn't talked since that night, hadn't been in contact much. Which at first hadn't worried Shane. It wasn't unusual for them to go longer periods of time without contact, and especially with the Olympics looming so close, with them both being chosen for their teams, it had only seemed logical to focus on their duties. He hadn't worried. Had lived in that blissful state of finally knowing what it felt like to be taken, of sharing the arguably most intimate part of himself with someone he trusted. Knew he could trust. Thought he could trust.

    OR: What happened during those 6 months when Ilya ignored Shane? How did that time change things for Shane?

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    30 Jan 2026

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    God. What the fuck had just happened.
    Shane pressed his head between his knees, the joints tight against his ears as he squeezed his thighs together, putting pressure on his head between his legs. Sometimes, that helped him calm down.

    But the scent of Rozanov, the phantom touch still lingering against his skin...
    ... the bite mark throbbing at the back of his neck. 

    Or: After that fateful night in Vegas, Shane is left with a huge problem. A massive problem at the centre of his neck.

    || A/N: For people worried about the Rape/Non-Con tag. It's ONLY about the Non-Consentual Claiming bite, and them fucking while Ilya is drunk (which is only mentioned, not explicitly written). NOTHING else in that regard happens.

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    09 Jan 2026

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    "Have they said anything to you? Asked you? About us?" Shane asked. He seemed surprisingly calm.

    Ilya shook his head. "No. I told Wiebe I would not be playing. He did not ask why. But said it was okay. Haas asked how it was going. Troy messaged and asked how you are feeling."

    Ilya still didn't know how Troy had figured it out. But with his performance it couldn't have been hard.

    Ilya could see the muscles in Shanes jaw tick, his own lip caught between his teeth. A breath rushed out of Shanes nose, almost a snort.

    "Okay."

    "Okay?"

    Shane nodded. "Okay."

    Or: Ilya freaked out after the Metros plane had gone down. His team had noticed... had maybe pieced some things together. Maybe it's time to be honest?

    || A/N: This is a part two to my first fic

    https://archiveofourown.org/works/77155696

    , which is the first one in this series!

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    08 Jan 2026

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    Ilya raises his hand, his fingers hovering just centimetres above Shanes freckles. Those freckles he loves so dearly. A map he wished to trace for eternity.

    Shane is cool under Ilyas touch. His skin is still so soft against Ilyas fingers, so delicate. It feels wrong. Shane is cool against his palm, and no movement twitches against Ilyas fingers. No breath being drawn. No flutter of eyelashes as he laughs. He's so cold...

    Ilya crumbles.

    || A/N: THIS FIC DEPICTS DEATH AND SUICIDE! IF THAT COULD TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ!!! DD:DNE!!!

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    06 Jan 2026