Itslinadarling



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    In the early hours of Saturday, the Hockey world was ablaze with the news that Ilya Rozanov was dead. Killed in a tragic car accident leaving behind a slew of devastated fans and a grieving husband still reeling in shock.

    The news also came as an incredible shock to Ilya when he awoke that same day, hungover and bleary, but very much alive. 

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    19 Feb 2026

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    "Ilya had loved him through his worst moments. Ilya had helped him find a therapist when he’d collapsed on the floor of their hotel bathroom after losing a particularly brutal game, scratching at his chest. Ilya had held him, even when Shane yelled at him because there was panic crawling under his skin and he felt as though it might claw its way out. Ilya had told him it was okay; that it didn’t make him a bad player to resent the spotlight sometimes, that it didn’t make him a bad teammate to hate the team when they were too loud and too drunk and too physical, that it didn’t make him a bad person to need space to breathe. Ilya saved him.

    And look what you give him in return. You’re a shitty husband, Shane Hollander.

    You don’t deserve his last name."

     

    -

     

    content warnings: discussion of mental health, depiction of a panic attack, depiction of invasive medical procedure, depiction of violence (generally non-graphic), use of hate speech, depiction of a hate crime

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    10 Feb 2026

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    His outstretched glove hangs there, frozen, as the noise of the arena mutates into a ringing buzz. Then he’s moving, pushed away by Marlow, and then Boston’s goalie. There’s a flurry of movement, a trainer with a towel, more blood dripping onto the ice, and he just. Stands there. Staring.

    Ilya is helped off the ice. Shane doesn’t even tap his stick.

    Remember when Sidney Crosby caught a puck with his jaw? That doesn't happen to Shane. That happens to Ilya.

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    06 Feb 2026

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    Shane Hollander knows he’s not a small guy. Years of hockey and workouts have built up his muscles, and lucky genetics from his father’s side places him just shy of six feet. He’s checked hockey players half a foot and several pounds more than him, knocked Scott Hunter into the ice in the one fight he’s ever actually thrown hands in. But as much as Shane loves the game, the fast movements, passes, and team camaraderie, there were times where he could only feel regret at following the path of athletic fame. He puts on the media smile he practices in the mirror as he brushes his hair each day, uses the bright lights of press conferences to erase his view of the audience, and keeps his answers simple and focused on hockey.

    The number of people outside the arena still makes him feel crushed in on all sides, small. Eyes trained on his face, cameras flashing, pens and cell phones being passed into his hands. The itch of it all settles under his skin.

    ~

    @OttawaPoliceDispatch: Police have been dispatched to a house alarm in Galetta, On. Possible break in, destruction of property.

    @OttawaOfficialPoliceDepartment: Recent Missing Persons Report filed for Shane William Hollander at 9:25 pm in Galetta, On

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    03 Feb 2026

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    “Ilya,” he clarified, wincing as he swallowed, his throat feeling like he’d eaten a fistful of glass. “I need to call Ilya.”

    He fumbled around for his phone, desperately needing to hear his fiance’s voice. Together, they could figure this out. They’d make a plan. Ilya could drive with his parents from Ottawa and–

    But Ilya wasn’t in Ottawa. He was in Russia.

    No.

    No.

    They’d kill Ilya in Russia. They’d kill him, or arrest him, or– or–

    Oh god, they’d kill him.
    __________________________________________________________________________

    A family emergency means Ilya is in Russia when Hayden's FanMail video ends up on Twitter, outing them to the entire world. It, predictably, ends horribly.

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    16 Jan 2026