Okay, so with the Spaghetti verse - I've put this out there before but I think you'd get a kick out of it.
Shane gets the call to foster not a fuck-off big snake, but a hognose - which the females top out at 36 inches. So Ilya hears this and is like "okay, yeah, a small snake (still big to him, but small compared to spaghetti)" only to face absolute betrayal at how spicy (dramatic) they are because "Why is he angry Shane?! Spaghetti isn't angry!:
it starts doing a rattelsnake impression at him and ilya is straight offended
he is just STANDING HERE
man learns a new appreciation for spaghetti because this new guy is an ASSHOLE
ilya stops by to look at the snakes each day because he treats it like allergy training and doesn't want to lose any tolerance he's built up, but this means anyone listening in while visiting just hears, "good morning, spaghetti. you are looking very scaly today. and mouse lump is almost gone! good work. good disgestion. hello sad dead linguini. so sad you are dead aga-oh? alive? no, dead again. back to dead. okay. good job everyone. maybe tomorrow you are alive, linguini. we will see."
a lesser-discussed fucked up thing about ai is how the sparkly symbol is used to represent ai features on apps and the like. we should never have let them take the sparkle from us. like that's OURS
sometimes a fic can just be about the age old question 'how emotionally bad for everyone involved can a threesome be when they all did in fact agree to be there'
Notable that in the books (ignoring the weird racial undertones) he is OBSESSED with Shaneâs balls. Like has odes to Shaneâs balls running as a monologue in his head.
Ilya Rozanov obsessed with #cock and balls and swallowing huge loads also CONFIRMED
I just know baby Shane loved roughhousing with David. David would throw that little chonk around and around and he would just giggle and say "again! again!"
the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13œ years now
Okay so idk Iâm back in my a/b/o bag again idk why. Anyway ! Pretty canon right like all the same but omega Shane alpha Ilya. They are hooking up casually, and itâs fun and hot but itâs clean, so clean. They are ! Careful ! No biting, scenting but only during sex and strictly never ever any sex around heat/rut. Not even the week before their scheduled times off to have them if it overlaps with the times they are playing against each other.
Anyway. Itâs pre tuna melt, like close to it- maybe a month or two before and Ilya is in rut. Heâs out for a week, Shane notices, his absence from his games- ârut leaveâ their texts silent.
Shane canât help it but heâs been thinking more and more and more about what Ilyaâs ruts look like, who he spends then with, if he spends it alone, if he does spend it alone- does he have toys he likes to use, what ones, what does he think about. Does it ache like Shaneâs heats do- does he feel cold and lonely after unsatisfying fake satiating with toys that imitate knotting. Does he crave the feeling of a warm body with him. Does it draw out, body desperate to mate, string out every opportunity for it to happen. Does he enjoy them, feel powerful and strong, in control, more himself in rut- heâs heard itâs like that for some. ïżŒ
Ok and so Shaneâs tucked up in bed one night, half asleep as he keeps his eyes open to catch the last of his chapter.
And then his phone rings- and itâs, itâs Lily ?. Worry and thrill shivers in his gut, and he bites at his lip, lets it ring out a few more times. his mind races, calculates that Ilyas ruts must be short, wonders what on earth he might want. Shane couldnât stop himself from knowing, from needing to know. He always needed to know with Rozanov, it was undeniable to him somehow. He swears, snatches his phone up, presses answer and cradles it to his ear.
âRozanov?â He asks when the line is quiet for more than five seconds. Then, a hot panting breath, a slick wet sound that makes goosebumps prickle up over the back of his neck, heat turn in his stomach and then- then the slick sound again, again, another heavy pant low through the phone.
Shane almost swallows his tongue.
âRozanov?â He says again, but his voice is dry and catching and soft through the phone and itâs answered with a low rumble, one that makes Shaneâs chest twinge.
âShchenokâ the foreign word makes him frown, and he makes a soft questioning sound.
âWhat, what do you want?â Shane asks, fingers reach up to pinch at his bottom lip, chest hot and tight at the desperate sound of Ilyaâs breathing.
âPuppyâ he translates and the nickname makes Shaneâs lips part, his cock throb and start to fill. Heat a dark rush on his cheeks.
Puppy. The one thing they let slip. Rozanov said it sparingly, often in the depth of orgasm, when his knot was securing inside Shane, cum filling the condom.
âRozanov- I. Whatâs? Whatâs going onâ he swallows around the whine fighting up his throat, the way it makes his eyelids go heavy, think of the way Rozanov usually says it to him. âMy puppyâ âgood puppyâ âgoing to fill you puppyâ âfeel so fucking good puppyâ against his ear right in the peak of his orgasm.
âWhere are you puppy?â Ilya sounds drunk, words slurred and soft, mumbled.
âAt homeâ Shane answers, flat and honest.
Ilya whines, a sad sound in the phone, a sound Shane has never heard the alpha make before.
âNeed youâ Ilya exhales, and then he cuts into rambling Russian, the slick sound picking up.
Shane is listening shamelessly, phone pressed to his ear and fucking Rozanov is calling him in his rut? Shane scrubs a hand over his eyes. Things with them are already so impossible. So- so. Shane sighs and hears Ilya let out a small moan.
âCome here. I have my knot. For you, puppy, to fillâ his words are stilted, accent so thick- like when Shane first met him all those years ago, he sounds far away- out of it- high.
âI canâtâ Shane answers, swallows hard. âIâm hours away Rozanov, itâs your rut, we- we canâtâ he exhales, shakes his head, trying to tell himself that. They canât.
Ilya growls. And the sound makes Shane bite back a whine, shove his fist again his mouth.
âdonât want?â Ilya asks and itâs a taunt, itâs horrible, it makes Shaneâs stomach ache. The wet sound of Ilya working himself is quicker, messier and Shane thinks of Ilyaâs hand around his cock, of him fitting a toy over his pretty thick cock, of pushing his knot into it.
Ilya starts whining in Shaneâs silence, a low horrible sound that makes anxiety twist in his stomach. That makes him want to go to him. To make it feel better.
âNo- itâs not thatâ Shane confesses, sure that Ilya wonât remember this anyway- must have been in some thick haze to have even called him in the first place. They had their rules, this was breaking one, clear and obvious.
âWhyâ Ilya grunts and Shane exhales hard, drops his head and presses his fingers firm into his eyelids.
âItâs. Rozanov Iâm in Montreal, youâre in Boston. I canât get thereâ
âFuckâ Ilya grunts low and angry and more Russian, jumbled words that Shane canât follow but they sound so pretty, even if they are garbled and frustrated.
âIt. hurtsâ Ilya grits out. âWonât. Wonât stopâ he huffs.
Shane is so hard he might die and his head is spinning and he feels starving and dizzy and he fuck- heâs so fucking wet, he can feel it between his legs, messy and slick.
âKeep making knotâ Ilya continues. âKnot for puppyâ he croons and Shane almost drops the phone, bites down so hard into his own fingers they throb.
âI just want. Fucking need to- I Wantâ Ilya rambles Shane interjects, nervous of the end of the sentence.
âGive me your knot then, alpha, please, itâll make it better okay? Let me hear youâ Shane asks, heart thundering in his chest wild and rampant.
Ilya croons, mumbles a âyes yesâ before itâs slurred and spacey Russian, words Shane doesnât know.
Shane feels his own cock pulse and he pictures Ilya there, over him, mindless. His need desperate as he ruts inside of Shane, hands and mouth pulling at him biting him, pinning him on his knees, presented up to his alpha.
Fuck. Shaneâs hands might be shaking.
âPlease alpha it will be better if you cum, if you give me your knot yeah? Itâll feel all betterâ Shane says in a soft tone, clenches his thighs and relaxes them, squirms at the hard throb of his cock pushing against his sweats.
âPleaseâ Shane says again and Ilya cums then, a harsh desperate whine, shaky moan that draws out and leaves Shane feeling raw, chest cracked open. So so wet oh god fucking wet itâs dripping down the backs of his thighs.
Ilya goes fuzzy in the line then, almost complete Russian, happy croons and a few sad sounds, ruffles of sheets, fabric. One soft utterance of âpuppyâ before Ilya falls asleep. Shaneâs hand is numb wrapped hard around the phone, legs heavy and mind reeling. He hangs up when he can make himself, fits a hand around his cock over his cock and comes in three squeezes of it, making the mess inside his sweats even worse.
Shane can only hope Ilya was as faded in his rut as he seemed to be, that he wonât remember it. What Shane said.
Shane is relived when Ilya sends him a normal out of the blue text two days later, no mention of the call at all.
sometimes u headcanon a character as a sexuality but then also ship things that contradict that. sometimes you ship things you would NEVER EVER want in canon. this is because these things are fun and silly and not legally binding.
Yeah I don't know where some people got this idea that fanfic is always like, auditioning to replace canon or being posited as "better" than canon, as opposed to people just borrowing the characters to play with in the sandpit for a while before putting them back in their box
sometimes when I hear the question âdo you prefer shane or ilyaâ I feel like Iâm meeting king Solomon and heâs asking if Iâm cool with cutting the baby in half
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