1 – 8 of 8 Works in Scars
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“You are vampire?” Rozanov asked, replacing his cigarette between his lips. He lit the end and took a long drag.
“Uh,” Shane blinked at him. “Half, technically. And you’re… a werewolf.”
- Part 1 of bite my neck // suck my blood
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,421
- Chapters:
- 2/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80603866
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Take me out the dark (take me home) by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-04
Ilya rounded the desk, and his heart didn’t stutter but simply stopped. For an endless second everything stilled around him. Shane had found them, his letters and his journals. And the world turned sideways slowly slipping away from Ilya’s grasp. Like someone had taken away the solid ground underneath his feet, leaving him falling indefinitely. His entire focus narrowed on the pages Shane was clasping in his hands and the shoe carton next to him.
He had always promised himself that one day he would show Shane, he would tell him about all of it. But he had never wanted it to happen like this. For Shane to just stumble across the pages that carried his darkest thoughts and simple truths of his life. Never wanted him to read those alone or ever. Because Ilya wasn’t sure he was strong enough to revisit all the open wounds he had spilled on those pages.
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Or Shane and Ilya spend some time at the cottage between Christmas and New Year’s and unravel their past once and for all.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 40,342
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76323236
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Shane stuck his hand out. “Shane Hollander.” He waited for… well, he didn’t know what. A flicker of recognition. Possibly surprise? Delight was perhaps a bit much to hope for, but maybe some kind of excitement about meeting one’s soulmate, the same giddy feeling that was swirling in Shane’s stomach just from standing face to face. Ilya Rozanov gave him nothing. Just glanced between Shane’s face and his hand like Shane had offended him somehow, before finally taking it— —and promptly turning back around to light his cigarette. In which Ilya Rozanov is the name on Shane’s wrist, but Shane Hollander is not on Ilya’s.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,638
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78667116
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The call rings through to voicemail, but Ilya doesn’t listen to the message as he hangs up and starts calling again. Only two rings sound into his ear as he shoves his feet into some shoes before the line connects. “Rozanov.” Hayden Pike drawls, “I thought we agreed to only call if there was an emergency.” “Why the fuck do you think I’m calling?” Ilya snaps, hating that he has to talk to Pike. But Pike is Shane’s best friend. He is also in the same city as Shane and can get to him before Ilya. He can stay until Ilya gets there.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,785
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77606106
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Shane nearly stops himself right there, runs through all of the ways he could navigate away from the question, but when he opens his mouth it comes right out anyway. "Was he hard on you too?" Or Ilya had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He just hadn’t expected it to be about this, hadn’t expected, or maybe simply refused to accept, that his father would somehow still hurt him beyond the grave, that the punches and split lips and broken ribs would still, impossibly, ache within him after all this time. or Shane tries to talk to Ilya about his past. It doesn't go as planned.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,313
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77575121
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He didn't know why he agreed to see Rozanov again. It was a bad idea for so many different reasons. It was risky, it was dangerous, and it would destroy them both if it got out. But there was something pulling him to the other man, a tug in his chest that Shane tried to ignore because he couldn't pretend he didn't know what it meant. If he focused, he could still feel the phantom touch of Rozanov's fingers on his skin, see the look on his face as Rozanov disappeared into a memory. Shane’s memory. Both of them knew what it meant. Shane almost wished they didn't. OR: Soulmates who touch each other's scars for the first time get to live through the memory of their soulmate acquiring them. For Shane and Ilya, being known so deeply by their rival is not the miracle everyone else says it is. At least, not for about eight years.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,709
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76988411
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For as long as Ilya has remembered, there were five letters neatly printed in the crease of his arm either in vivid black or as a ghost of his memory. He is four when he learns that it is a soulmark. He is six when he realises his parents do not have each other's names. He is eight when he works out the name is probably from the English speaking world. He is ten when he works out it is a boy’s and receives a slap across the face for asking. For as long as Ilya has remembered, there were five letters neatly printed in the crease of his arm either in vivid black or as a ghost of his memory. He is four when he learns that it is a soulmark. He is six when he realises his parents do not have each other's names. He is eight when he works out the name is probably from the English speaking world. He is ten when he works out it is a boy’s and receives a slap across the face for asking. He is twelve when he buries his hopes with his mother. Fate is what men make for themselves, hopes and opportunities his father states harshly, hand on each son’s shoulder at the funeral but Ilya sees the pill bottle in his dreams as if it is as real as the alcohol on the coffee table and thinks maybe what his father made was graves for more than just his mother. He is fourteen, fresh off international scouts noticing him for the first time, when his father takes him to a clinic with a leaking ceiling and a stone faced doctor who takes a stack of notes and a bottle of vodka, the expensive kind, and lasers the soulmate mark off him as Ilya screams and begs. He carves each letter of Shane’s name into the wooden slat under his bed as tears of pain and frustration blur his vision and he promises himself he will escape. He’s sixteen when he feels the scar at his arm tingle as he watches the Canadian junior team face off against the Americans. Shane. It cannot be. His arm tingles every time Shane has the puck. It does not matter, his father hisses, realising the same moment Ilya does, grabbing his arm and viciously stabbing his still lit cigarette into the scarred flesh. ‘That is done with, Ilya.’. His arm burns but not as harshly as the eyes Ilya cannot pull from the screen. Another burn. Another. Every hit perfectly placed for the letters that no longer show on Ilya’s flesh. He’s seventeen when he meets his soulmate, and he knows it's him, he can feel it, and Shane is so kind but Ilya has been trained to only respond to harsh demands and expectations, informing him there are many Ilyas’ in Russia. Hope blooms and he’s ready to follow, anywhere really, anywhere that isn’t back to where he came from because Shane is where he is supposed to be but he has to check and its heavy, the weight of his father’s victory when Shane says ‘yeah I guess you are right’ and leaves with his handshake and his polite smile and the remains of Ilya’s heart in his hands. He’s twenty seven when Shane tells him he’s pretty sure there are millions of Ilya’s in the world but only one for him, face set and determined as he stands barefoot and ready to fight. One arm is still in a sling and bruises are fading into his face, and to Ilya he has never looked more beautiful. Ilya got used to taking what he could get, ignoring the imprint of his own name on Shane’s foot, aided by Shane’s quirk of keeping his socks on and how shy he is in general, reaching for his clothes before Ilya has come down from the high and retreating back behind the wall only Ilya is allowed to pass. “Mine is gone, my father-” “Your father is dead,” Shane snaps, and then the anger seems to drain out of him as he grabs Ilya’s wrist with his good hand and slowly traces his hand up his arm to the crease of his elbow, touching the scarred flesh, “I’m here.” Simple. Ilya could say a thousand different things and they would be a thousand different people’s words. Shane grows nervous in his silence and takes a step back, a cold horrible feeling spreading in Ilya’s stomach when he does it. He’s blowing it. The moment he hoped for, denied he hoped for, hoped for again, and he’s blowing it. “Ilya…I get it ok? I’m weird and boring and you probably think that I’m no fun and wish it was someone else but-” “No!” Shane was the one who walked away from Ilya. Only so far though, only ever so far, as if they were not just soulmates but linked by a red string of fate carrying across the oceans, between continents, drawing them both to the ice that could unite them. Hockey has been Ilya’s downfall and his salvation, his family in ruins and yet Shane in front of him. It was the excuse for him to be forbidden, it is the very reason he probably should still be forbidden and yet it is fate. There is nothing more natural in the universe than stepping forward and dropping to his knees and pressing his index and middle finger to his own name at Shane’s ankle. “I am sorry. My mark…” “It’s still there Ilya,” Shane murmurs as he awkwardly crouches and returns his hand to its former place, over the marred skin, “It feels…right? Mine is where no one can see it. Yours is…no one would know. But we know, Ilya. We know. Come to the cottage. Give us a chance.” “I did. I said to you,” and he has to pause and regain his composure, the wall that only Shane gets passed on his side, “I tell you, many Ilya’s in Russia. That day. In juniors. I….was waiting.” “I know,” Shane murmurs, “M’sorry. I was scared. But Ilya….m’not afraid anymore.” Ilya cups his chin and feels Shane tremble under his touch, “This is a lie I think.” Shane inhales and then exhales deeply, and Ilya thinks there are many better places for this conversation than kneeling on the floor of the hotel room Ilya should have left days ago but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the city while Shane was still in the hospital. “Okay, I’m terrified,” Shane says flatly, blinking rapidly as he makes himself hold Ilya’s gaze, and no matter how hard it is with people when it matters he always holds Ilya’s gaze, “But I’m not afraid of us anymore, Ilya. Come home.” Home.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,162
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76815886
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memories of the skin by loverboysteve
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
"How did you get?" Ilya says, keeping his voice low. The dead weight of Shane's head means he's probably close to drifting off. He moves his hand from between Shane's shoulder blades to trace the raised scar tissue on his shoulder. Shane pulls back from his absentminded nuzzling. He frowns in confusion at the question, scrunching up his nose and those freckles that Ilya adores. "Wha-? Oh, that," says Shane, eyes catching on the scar on his shoulder. "Hockey, of course." — set after episode 6 at the cottage, where a discussion of scars takes place. shane finds out that some scars are worse than others.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,074
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76699991