susire



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya’s eyebrows have officially made their way to the top of his forehead, mouth dropping open. Hollander, Shane motherfucking Hollander, is genuinely, actually fighting. Shane Hollander’s fists are flying into Scott freaking Hunter’s face, catching him upside the chin, and throwing his head back.

     

    “What the fuck,”

    Or
    Ilya's POV of Hollander throwing hands if he, yknow, actually threw hands instead of just sort of shoving each other

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    17 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “I feel really good about this kid, I think he could be great on your wing, he just needs some help settling in. Someone to show him the ropes.”

    “Yes.”

    The line went silent for a moment. Ilya wasn’t really sure why his coach felt the need to run this by him.

    “Rozanov,” his coach said at last. “I want him to live with you.”

    Ilya blinked, then nearly shouted into the phone. “What?”

    * * *

    or, Ilya stays in Boston, gets a rookie, and tries to figure out how to make a secret long distance relationship work while there's a Russian teenager in his house

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    16 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya, you’re playing the Voyageurs next, in Montreal. How are you feeling about that?” An ESPN mic is held to his face.

    Rozanov grins. “Really good. About time. I know we have been winning a lot, but is always the most fun to beat Montreal.”

    “The situation’s kind of changed though, hasn’t it?”

    “Is true.” Rozanov looks almost thoughtful. “It used to be the most fun to beat them because they had the best player on their team. Now…” Rozanov trails off. He chances a look to the side, as if to check if someone’s there or not. “Now is going to be fun because they are very stupid.” Rozanov’s face is very hard. Serious. Angry. Scary.

    Or: Signing with the Montreal Voyageurs should have been the best day in Jordan Bicker’s career. If only it weren’t for Ilya Rozanov…

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    13 Feb 2026

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    He is grateful, so grateful to be on this team. They are loving and wonderful, and they don't mind that his mother calls after nearly every game, or that his father sends what feels like bushels of chocolate and treats to the office, always addressed to Luca Haas and his friends, as if he is somehow a star and not just a rookie.

    “Is it always like this?” he asks once, his tongue unstuck from his teeth, his eyes shining as he glances up at Roz, soaking in the celebratory mood after a hard-fought win.

    “No,” Rozanov says, smiling at him. His stomach flips and churns, dazzled by the glittering weight of his attention. “This is special, Haasy. A team powered by love and good hockey.”

    OR: Luca Haas and love, in the years leading up to the Ottawa Centaurs Stanley Cup run.

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    09 Feb 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya was only a few strides behind Shane on the ice.

    He clocked the angle before the hit even landed; Marlow coming in too hot, too fast, shoulder high. Shane turned and slowed at the wrong moment, skates clipping, balance gone.

    Impact.

    The sound carried oddly through the arena, duller than boards, sharper than ice. Shane went down hard, helmet skidding, body twisting. And then it all happened at once. Skates tangled. Marlow stumbled over him as he fell, too. A skate’s blade flashed too close, too sharp.

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

    Shane's injuries during the Boston/Montreal game are much more life-threatening than in canon. Ilya's quick thinking and bone-deep instincts are the only reason he survives.

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    06 Feb 2026