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Personne Sait Comment On Fait Des Papas by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-05-11
“Alexei, I fucking told you to never call me again, you fucking piece of—”
“Am I speaking with Ilya Grigorievich Rozanov?”
Ilya went silent immediately. That was not his brother’s voice. Nor was it Katia’s, his sister-in-law. It was an aristocratic, cold voice. He went completely still.
“Yes.”
“I’m calling from the Child Services Department, Ilya Grigorievich,” the woman continued, and Ilya frowned deeply. “Your brother Alexei Rozanov and his wife died yesterday in a car accident.”
Twice in his life, Ilya had felt like this. The ice around his heart melted just enough for the numbness to vanish and give way to a sharp, stinging pain. It lasted only two seconds before he managed to compose himself. He didn’t want to feel anything for Alexei, so even if Katia’s death carried a trace of sadness—she was a mess, but she always tried to smile at him and cook warm meals for him when he visited Russia—, he dismissed the feeling entirely.
“So what?”
“You are the only living family member of their daughter. Your brother named you as her legal guardian, Ilya Grigorievich.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 116,221
- Chapters:
- 9/12
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76439116
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Scott took his sunglasses from the side pocket of his backpack and put them on. His phone vibrated. He pulled it out and there it was: a picture of Kip and Elena from across the street. Kip smiling, Elena pouting. Below it, the caption: "Please don't die crossing this sea of people."
Scott laughed to himself, put the phone away, and pushed the door open.
The screams of excitement crashed over Scott like a wave. Fans crowded the sides of the path, many with tears in their eyes, others with their arms reaching over the metal barricades, everyone wanting a piece of that night. Happy shouts celebrating the victory, hoarse voices declaring their love for the team, words of pride and admiration. Scott smiled slightly, giving a general wave as he walked, sharing looks of gratitude to both sides – until the smile froze on his face.
"THEY TURNED HOCKEY GAY?! SERIOUSLY?! FUCK YOU, HUNTER!"
The voice cut through the air like a blade. Scott swallowed hard, his eyes finding a compact group on the other side of the metal barricades. Not happy at all. Men, mostly, their expressions twisted with hate, being held back by the police officers doing security.
"HOPE YOU DIE, YOU FAGGOT!"
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 134,743
- Chapters:
- 14/14
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80835121
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“Is she sleeping?” “Yeah, she’s out like a light.” He places a kiss to the back of Ilya’s neck. “She’s a good baby.” A contented hum leaves Ilya, then he turns around, scooping Shane into his arms. “And you’re a good dad.” “I still can’t believe that’s real.” Shane brushes his fingers over Ilya’s cheek, as if grounding himself to reality. “I can’t believe she’s ours.” Though it’s dark, he can see Ilya’s smile. “Lily Rozanov-Hollander.” He presses a kiss to Shane’s nose. “Has nice ring to it.” Five years after their marriage, Ilya and Shane decide to expand their family.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,750
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77153006
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Ilya carries around photos of his adorable family in his wallet and is happy to show them off to anyone who asks, or to anyone he asks and they are forced to say yes.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,424
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77056971
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The Canadian-Russian Godfathers (or Wyatt & Lisa Become Parents) by liljenrocks
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
Wyatt and Lisa Hayes adopt a baby girl and ask Shane and Ilya to be her godfathers.
- Part 3 of The Centaur Family
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,538
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76600851
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When their son comes home with split knuckles and a suspension for throwing the first punch, Shane and Ilya just want to know one thing: what did the other kid do to deserve it? Or in which the Hollander-Rozanovs learn that raising good kids sometimes means teaching them when the rules are worth breaking. Shane’s phone rings at 12:39 PM on a Wednesday, which is already strange because people don’t usually call during the day unless something’s wrong. He’s in the kitchen making Sachiko’s favorite snacks for when she gets home from school — apple slices with that specific brand of almond butter she likes, the one with honey — when he sees the number. Ottawa West Secondary School. His stomach drops. “Hello?” “Mr. Hollander? This is Principal Matheson from Ottawa West Secondary.” Shane sets down the knife he’s been using, his hand suddenly unsteady. “Yes?” “I’m calling about Viktor. There’s been an incident at school today, and we need you and your husband to come in immediately.” “An incident?” Shane’s voice comes out higher than he intends. “Is he hurt? Is he okay?” “He’s not injured, but there was a physical altercation, and-” “A physical altercation? Viktor?” Shane almost laughs because the idea is so absurd. Viktor, who cried for an hour when he accidentally stepped on a snail when he was nine. Viktor, who mediates arguments between his friends instead of participating in them. Viktor, who’s never even raised his voice at his little sister despite her sometimes stealing his things and hiding them around the house. “Yes, Mr. Hollander. Viktor punched another student. We have a zero-tolerance policy for violence, and-” “We’ll be right there,” Shane interrupts, his heart hammering. “Twenty minutes.” He hangs up and immediately calls Ilya, who answers on the second ring. “Solnyshko, I am at store. They are out of the good pasta, the one Vitya likes. Should I-” “Ilya.” Shane’s voice cracks slightly. “We need to go to Viktor’s school. Now.” The line goes quiet for a beat. Then: “What is wrong? Is he hurt?” “No, he’s—they said he punched someone. They said he was in a fight.” “Vitya?” Ilya sounds as disbelieving as Shane feels. “Our Vitya?” “That’s what they said.” “I am coming home now. Two minutes.” Shane leans against the counter, his mind racing through possibilities. Viktor’s been quiet lately, maybe a little withdrawn, but Shane had chalked that up to typical teenage stuff. Hormones. Growing pains. The universal adolescent need to assert independence from one’s parents. Had Shane missed something? Had they both missed something? The front door bangs open, and Ilya strides in, still wearing his jacket, car keys jangling in his hand. “Okay,” Ilya says, slightly breathless. “Okay. We go now. Is probably mistake, yes? Maybe is different Viktor.” “There’s only one Viktor Hollander-Rozanov at that school, Ilya.” Ilya runs a hand through his hair, which is still thick despite being in his mid-forties, though there are silver threads now mixed in with the light brown curls. “Then is mistake in other way. Vitya does not fight. Is not who he is.” But Shane’s remembering the way Viktor went quiet at dinner two nights ago when Sachiko asked him how school was. The way he’d pushed food around his plate and said “Fine” in a tone that clearly meant it wasn’t fine at all. Shane had meant to follow up, had meant to talk to him, but then Sachiko had spilled her juice and the moment had been lost in the chaos of cleanup and bedtime routines. “We should go,” Shane says quietly. The drive to the school is tense. Ilya’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and he keeps muttering things in Russian under his breath. Shane catches “ne mozhet byt” more than once, which he knows means “It can’t be.” “Whatever happened,” Shane says, trying to convince himself as much as Ilya, “There has to be an explanation. Viktor wouldn’t just hit someone for no reason.” “Of course not,” Ilya snaps, but Shane knows the anger isn’t directed at him. “Our boy is good. Is sweet. Is-” He struggles for the word. “Is gentle.” Shane’s throat tightens. Viktor is gentle. He’s the kid who brings home injured birds and nurses them back to health in shoeboxes. Who reads to Sachiko every night before bed even though she’s perfectly capable of reading to herself. Who still, at fourteen, will curl up next to Shane on the couch during movies and rest his head on Shane’s shoulder. The school parking lot is half-empty, most students still in afternoon classes. Shane and Ilya walk quickly toward the main entrance, and Shane notices the way Ilya’s jaw is set, the way he’s holding himself like he’s about to step onto the ice for a crucial playoff game. “Let me do the talking,” Shane says as they approach the main office. Ilya shoots him a look. “When have I ever let you do all talking?” “Ilya, I mean it. We need to stay calm and-”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,803
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76338821