AnaVamp



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    He drives to the airport with an unshakeable urge to pull over and turn around. He smokes four cigarettes in a row before he boards the plane, then chews an entire pack of gum on the flight to try and cover the worst of the smell.

    He exits the airport half-hoping that Shane has chickened out of the whole thing. Then he spots him, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in the most boring suburban dad car Ilya has ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes on, and he’s so happy to see him that his legs feel unsteady beneath his weight.

    --

    Or, the cottage, Ilya's version: an extended ep 6 featuring my take on what happened in the gaps we didn't see.

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    24 Feb 2026

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    "A game?" said Shane blankly.

    Ilya waved his arms around as if to communicate through hand gestures. "You know, a sex game. Where we pretend to do something in a sexy way."

    "You have a... fantasy? Like, you want to act out a scenario?" Shane said hesitantly.

    Ilya snapped his fingers. "Yes. I have a fantasy."

    "What's your, um. Fantasy?" Even asking, Shane felt a hot blush rising up his cheeks.

    Ilya leaned forwards so that his lips were to Shane's ear. "I want you... to be a fan."

    Shane shuddered at Ilya's breath ghosting across his skin. "A fan?"

    "Yes, a fan. My biggest fan. And you ask me for an autograph."

    Or: Shane loses a bet, and Ilya wants Shane to pretend to be his biggest fan.

    Set Pre-Tuna Melt

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    24 Feb 2026

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    “You’re not looking,” Shane whines from the other side. Ilya turns. “Y-You don’t like it?”
    He swallows nothing, nostrils flared. There’s slick all over the omega’s chair. Ilya would lap it all up. He’d eat him, too. Leave no trace.
    But he has to break free first.
    “Let me take these off,” he clinks his restraints around for a moment, “and I will show you how much I like it.”

    or: ilya rozanov sets up an emergency appointment with a rut clinic and ends up breaking a few rules for his assigned omega.

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    24 Feb 2026

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    Shane’s immediate reaction is to say that he doesn't know when it started. He doesn’t know who his soulmate is. This is what he’s been telling himself for years, because if he stops for more than a second to think about how long he's been collecting little pieces of Ilya Rozanov, he thinks he'll spiral out of control.

    He'll hit the deck like a firecracker dropped unceremoniously onto the sidewalk, burning wildly and spiralling haphazardly, until he's fizzled out with nothing left to show for himself but smoke, ashes, and the knowledge that his soul is bound to Rozanov's.

    or:

    shane hollander spends twenty-five years not thinking about his soulmate. the drawer in his apartment filled with cigarettes, toothpaste, and awful t-shirts says elsewise.

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    24 Feb 2026

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    He looks up at Ilya, feeling so goddamn stupid he doesn’t even know what happens next. There’s dried blood all over his mouth.

    “Are you gonna tell anyone?”

     

    based on sev's beautiful art

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    24 Feb 2026