Five people get a glimpse of Ilya Rozanov and the one person who has seen him all along.
Hayden has an infant screaming bloody murder in his ear and a toddler clinging to his leg when his best friend answers the phone on the second ring. “Shane-“
“Jesus, Hayd, what’s going on?”
“Listen, the twins have a doctor appointment Jackie and I need to take them to and the babysitter canceled last minute.” He grimaces as Amber’s cries somehow turn up a notch, “I hate to do this, man, but can you look after Amber and Arthur? It’ll only be like one hour, two, tops.”
“Uh-“ there’s a rustle, then the line is quiet and Hayden realizes he’s been put on mute. “Can I bring someone with me?”
Hayden frowns, then shrugs. “Sure, man, yeah.”
.
“Oh, hell no.”
“Hello to you, too, Pike,” Ilya fucking Rozanov says with a too bright grin and a wave. He stands just behind Shane, and Hayden has to admit it’s a smart move because he’s this close to decking him.
“Shane,” Hayden says through gritted teeth, “kitchen. Now.”
Rozanov raises an eyebrow, turns to Shane. “You let him talk like that, Captain?”
His best friend just rolls his eyes, ignoring him. The familiarity in this small moment strikes Hayden as off but he lets it go in favor of storming off into the house.
“Ilya Rozanov? Really?”
Shane hovers awkwardly by the door before he comes to lean on the counter. “I told you about the charity, Hayden.”
“Not really,” he counters, “you just said that you and Rozanov are working on it, not that you’re somehow a package deal now?”
Shane turns an interesting shade of red. “We’re not a package deal! We had a meeting set up. Then you called and- look, we thought we’d just move the meeting to your house, that’s all.”
Hayden can’t help it. He laughs.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“You want to have a meeting while babysitting an infant and a toddler? Good luck with that, buddy.”
Shane huffs. “Do you want us to babysit your kids or not?”
He groans. “I can’t believe I’m about to let that heathen babysit my babies.”
When they eventually make it out of the kitchen, said heathen has somehow managed to charm his wife and his two youngest children. In the span of ten minutes.
He hates him.
“I hate him.”
Jackie laughs at him. “He’s not so bad. The kids seem to like him.”
“They don’t know any better.”
She hums, waving out the car window at their babies, their friend, and his-whatever.
The last thing he sees is Ilya fucking Rozanov bouncing his baby girl in his arms as she giggles, while his best friend holds his son’s hand and watches on fondly.
.
When they get back, the house is quiet. Jackie beats him to the living room by a few seconds, so when he enters, she’s got a hand on her mouth and her phone in the other. “This is adorable,” his wife murmurs, grinning.
He has to admit she’s kind of right. Rozanov is sitting on one end of the couch, feet on the coffee table. He’s got Amber on his chest and Arthur curled into his side. Hayden’s best friend is curled up beside them.
Hayden walks over and can’t resist kicking at Rozanov’s feet. They hit the floor with a thud just as Jackie hits him with the back of her hand. He rubs at his chest and watches Rozanov jolt awake, eyes flying open and quickly scanning the room. His movement is thankfully minuscule and doesn’t wake the kids. “Pike.”
“Rozanov.”
“How were they?” Jackie asks, setting her purse down on the coffee table. “Hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
He shakes his head. “Were perfect angels.”
“Thank you for doing this, Ilya,” his wife says softly, sincerely.
Ilya. His wife was on a first name basis with Ilya fucking Rozanov.
This is his worst nightmare.
“Was fun.” Rozanov’s lips quirk in a smile that’s different than the ones Hayden’s usually on the receiving end of. He looks down at Amber, then Arthur. His smile disappears when his eyes land on Hayden’s best friend, but there’s something soft in the way he looks at him. It’s gone before Hayden can identify it.
He gets up, deftly maneuvering Arthur so he lays him down on the couch while still holding his sleeping daughter. It looks like he’s done this before. “Her bedroom?”
“I’ll show you,” Jackie volunteers. Rozanov follows her without a word, and Hayden is left with his sleeping son and best friend. He shakes Shane’s shoulder. “Buddy. Hey, Shane.”
Shane grumbles and moves away from his hand. He mumbles something then, “stop.”
“Shane,” Hayden snaps, a little too loudly.
Shane’s eyes snap open, then narrow. “The hell?”
“Morning sunshine.”
“Morning?” His eyes widen. “Did we sleep-“
Hayden bursts out laughing. “No, you did not sleep the whole day away, stupid. Come on, get up.”
“Hey, where’s I-Rozanov?”
Hayden looks at his best friend over his shoulder. “Putting Amber down for her nap. Jackie’s with him.”
When Hayden finishes setting up the coffee machine, he turns around to find his best friend’s head turned toward the living room.
“So, what was he like?” At Shane’s confused look, he elaborates, “Rozanov. What was he like with the kids?”
A soft smile. A faint blush. Oh, god, is this what I think it is?
“Fun. They loved him.”
Do you?
“Baby, where are you?!”
Shane rolls his eyes at Jackie’s antics. Hayden grins. “In here!”
Rozanov comes in, followed by his wife. Jackie immediately slips into Hayden’s arms, and Rozanov goes to stand stiffly beside Shane. “Ready?”
Shane nods, stifling a yawn. “Yeah.”
“Ruby, Jade, come say bye to Uncle Shane and Ilya,” Jackie calls out, and it only takes a few minutes for them to hear the patter of small feet, long enough for them to say their own goodbyes- Shane gets a hug from both Hayden and Jackie, while Rozanov gets a handshake from him and a hug from his wife that has Hayden side-eyeing her.
His little terrors come tearing down the hall and run straight into Shane’s legs, making him laugh as he bends down to hug them both at the same time. Then it’s Rozanov’s turn.
He crouches down to their level and holds out his hands patiently. He’s not phased by their unblinking stares. “Hello, girls.”
Shane, Jackie and Hayden hold their breath. Hayden doesn’t use the word terrors to describe the twins lightly. His daughters are ruthless, cutthroat-
Ruby giggles.
“You talk funny,” Jade says as she, too, giggles.
He fakes offense. “I do not!”
“Yes, you do!”
“No!”
“Yeah!”
He looks up at Shane. “Tell them I do not talk funny.”
Shane shrugs helplessly. “You kinda do.”
He gasps. “Betrayed by my own-friend,” he stumbles over the word a little, but Hayden doesn’t think much of it until he gets a look at Shane’s face- the terror is only there for a second, but Hayden sees it. He sees it and it breaks him.
Rozanov’s attention is back on Ruby and Jade. He wiggles his hands and they each take one. He shakes them, a little too vigorously, but the girls absolutely love it.
When he gets up, everyone, but most of all Rozanov, is surprised when the twins hug his legs tightly.
“Will you come back?”
It’s an innocent question, and the way Rozanov very pointedly doesn’t look at anyone in the room is telling. “Maybe,” he says honestly, then looks at Hayden, shit eating grin back on full display, “if your daddy asks nicely.”
The twins turn their attention onto him immediately.
Jackie walks his best friend and his friend to the door. “Thanks again for doing this, you guys.”
“You’re welcome.”
Just before they leave, he hears Rozanov tell his wife, “you have wonderful children.”
Story below! WARNING the story lightly depicts/ implies mental illness and violence though nothing is out right depicted (unless you count the end). A bigger heads up I am NOT a writer!!! The story is probably gonna be a bit rough and all over the place. it also meant to be just a short summary that i ended up typing for farrrrrr too long lol. I have ADHD which makes it really hard to write down stuff coherently so sorry if its lowkey ass LMFAOOOO
I really hope u guys enjoy! Banners by @saradika-graphics !
Katie’s earliest memories in South Dakota were filled with uneasiness. Her mother, Marlina Elias, was haunted by mental illness. She spoke of tall, faceless figures lurking in the corners, her wide eyes always seeming to be filled with terror. The house felt thick with dread, every silence stretched taut, every shadow threatening. Katie, the youngest, clung to her brother Liz for comfort, but nothing could hide her from her mother’s unraveling mind. When their mother disappeared into the night, Katie and Liz were left to defend themselves in the world. That loss shattered the last traces of safety, setting Katie adrift in a life that would never again feel secure.
Soon, social services arrived, and the pair were taken from the only home they’d ever known. The world outside was vast and merciless, every unfamiliar face a reminder of their isolation. Katie barely spoke, shrinking into herself as the days passed. Nights were difficult, filled with Katie asking her older brother when they could go home and when their mother would return. With every day that Marlina remained missing, the hope of finding her withered. Swallowed by uncertainty, Katie drifted through foster homes with Liz as her only lifeline. The days stretched endlessly. Every day blended into the next. Liz would reassure Katie that things would get better, though sometimes Katie couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or trying to convince himself. Katie’s grief twisted into anger as she grew, her outbursts unsettling the adults around her. Foster homes blurred together, none offering safety. At six, Social Services decided to separate the two, a decision that would plunge Katie into loneliness and despair as the last bit of structure in her life was torn from her.
Katie’s childhood was defined by instability. Trusting others only ever seemed to end in pain, so Katie learned to rely on herself and keep people at a distance. As she grew, she became guarded and quiet, preferring solitude. Katie’s antisocial behavior did not go unnoticed. Other children distanced themselves from her, while adults labeled her a ‘problem’ child after frequent fights and attempts to run away from foster homes. At twelve, one escape nearly cost Katie her life, leaving her permanently disfigured and blind in her right eye. This trauma deepened her sense of isolation. Paranoia began to take root, and Katie moved through life on constant alert, convinced that others could not be trusted, and an unsettling feeling that something was always watching her. Katie’s paranoia only intensified as she grew into her teens. While she ran away less often, the pattern was replaced by frequent visits to hospitals and therapists. Katie found these interventions more frustrating than helpful, often shutting down and refusing to cooperate. The feeling of being misunderstood and trapped pushed Katie to her breaking point. Managing to get a hold of a pistol in her foster home, she made a final, desperate escape. Choosing to either escape or die trying. This time, Katie vanished for good, leaving the State unable to find her.
With her newfound freedom, Katie would drift from town to town, state to state. Katie became familiar with crime, living on the edge of the law to survive. To her dismay, her paranoia was not left behind in South Dakota. It seemed to only grow with the walls Katie had put up around herself. At night, she would experience nightmares. Visions of a tall faceless creature, one that seemed so familiar yet distant in her mind, almost as if it was something she’d known before but had long forgotten. Then came the sickness. At first, it seemed as if there was a small cold, soreness in her head and body. She paid little attention to it until there was blood. A bloody nose every once in a while turned into a regular occurrence. Sometimes, it even devolved into a coughing fit that ended with blood in the sink and Katie struggling to catch her breath. She found herself more irritable, becoming more prone to violence than before. Then came that thing.
The faceless being, once resigned to her nightmares, was now appearing in the corner of her eye. It was everywhere, seemingly hiding just out of sight, around corners, in the shadows, everywhere. Katie did her best to ignore it, brush it off, sum it up to being unmedicated for a few years now. But it persisted.
By 18, Katie had moved farther east into the Appalachian region, deciding it was best not to stay in more populated areas. She needed somewhere with fewer people, fewer eyes able to watch. But that creature followed. Its presence increased, becoming incessant. Most nights devolved into Katie lying there in the dark, whispers from every direction reaching her, yet she was unable to decipher what they said. When she returned home, she wouldn't shake the feeling that someone had been there in her absence. Leaving Katie unable to decipher between reality and her own paranoia.
The solitude Katie once so desperately sought became uneasy. What once was just hallucinations following her became tangible. She knew she wasn’t just misplacing things; someone was following her. First, it was just small things. Maybe a book or two were gone, maybe something was moved. shoe prints outside that were too large to be hers. The indents in the mud were clear as day, as if someone was there for hours, watching. Someone was there, and they wanted her to know. Despite everything, Katie continued on. Not having much choice, stalkers or not. Returning to the temporary home as it turned to night, tired of another day of stealing and manipulating whoever she could just to survive. The sense of being watched only increased by the day, exhausting her more than she would ever admit. The air felt different, thick and heavy, silence deafening. Before Katie got a chance to look around, a creak broke through the silence. She turned around to find a figure standing behind her in the doorway to her room. The man was dressed in a tan jacket, a white mask covering his face, his eyes barely visible behind it. Katie felt her pulse leap in her chest, time feeling frozen for a moment as the two stared at each other. She lunged for a baseball bat she kept by the door, but the stranger reacted quickly. Their struggle began, bodies slamming against the wall as they fought. Every bit of anger and fear Katie had felt in the last few years, in her entire life, came out as she struggled to get on top of the man. The mask cracked as she landed blow after blow, deep grunts and hisses escaping him. Katie headbutted him, caught him off guard, and wrapped her hands around his throat. She squeezed with everything she had. The man tried to pry her off, but she was relentless. If she could hold on a bit longer, maybe she’d finally be free from the paranoia and constant fear. The man's grip loosened as he seemed to lose consciousness, but suddenly a weight crashed into her from behind. Pain shot through her head as she hit the ground, losing her breath. She saw a flash of yellow as her vision blurred, and darkness closed in. She heard muffled voices arguing before the sound of her pounding heart filled her ears. She couldn’t make out what was being said; all she knew was the feeling of gloved hands lifting her, and the certainty that nothing would be the same when she woke.
Soooo if y'all remember my post about putting Zoey in the emotional blender, this one's for you! <3 Enjoy!
Rumi’s almost done reading her novel by the gentle light of a lamp when she picks up the sound of soft footsteps shuffling across the hardwood floor. Based on the fact that she can hear Mira snoring from all the way in the living room (a fact she’d vehemently deny come morning, no doubt), the footsteps have to belong to Zoey. She’d gone to bed hours ago, and normally sleeps like a rock, so the fact that she’s upright again is… worrying, to say the least.
Rumi turns to face Zoey over the back of the couch and opens her mouth to speak, but the warm greeting quickly dies on her lips as she takes in Zoey’s tousled hair and red-rimmed eyes. Rumi sets her book down, shuffling sideways to make room for her on the couch cushion.
Wordlessly, Zoey steps around the side of the couch. Instead of sitting next to her, like Rumi expects, Zoey sinks into Rumi’s lap and tucks her head against the taller girl’s neck, curling her arms against her chest and folding her knees up nearly to her chin.
“Zo-?” Rumi whispers, cautiously wrapping her arms around her. It feels as if the moment would shatter if she spoke too loudly or moved too quickly. Like something delicate, something fragile.
“Am I-” Zoey’s voice is small, quieter than Rumi’s ever heard from her before. She clears her throat, voice sounding faintly watery. “Am I too much?”
Brainstorming and plotting with @bornunderabluemoonbaby in the tevan server while we’re on the topic of supernatural creature Bucktommy AUs but neither of us writes smut so this concept is free to a good home if anyone wants it!! <3
Repressed incubus Tommy, who is perpetually starved, getting with Buck who, as we all know, is a sex fiend.
Like… Tommy was basically starved when he was with Abby, because his nature as an incubus is tied to his physical attraction and he's gay so. it got a little better when he was able to come out, but he's been living off one night stands and a few longer relationships, but the one time he thought it was for real and he was going to tell him the big secret, buddy popped off with "you're my first not my last," just for funsies.
Anyway, fast forward to after getting with Buck. The man’s never been better fed in his LIFE.
After the breakup, though, Tommy falls back into his barely-getting-by days, to the point where he’s grounded for everyone’s safety and his coworkers are starting to get worried.
Lucy puts the pieces together and is like “Dude. Just talk to Buckley, PLEASE. He wants you back and you look like you’re gonna drop dead any second now.”
It’s a bit melodramatic, but sue her, she’s worried and he looks like shit.
Read more below the cut bc this got kinda lengthy!! <3
Tommy reluctantly agrees and goes over to Buck’s and IMMEDIATELY Buck catches on that something is wrong because you look dead on your feet, Tommy. what the HELL.
(His eyebags have eyebags and his shirts don’t fit right anymore. It’s BAD)
and then they have the most heartbreaking, self-harmy sex EVER because it's not what they want, not even close, but they have to- Buck can't stand a world without Tommy in it and Tommy just wants that with Buck one last time.
after the very first post break up hook up Buck ends up slinking out the door before Tommy wakes up— going without means sex with Buck lays him out— and Tommy wakes up alone thinking he's such a terrible person because he's making the man he loves have sex with him just to stay alive and clearly Buck is only doing it because he's a good person. it has nothing to do with the fact that Buck's a masochist and will literally give pieces of himself to receive scraps in return.
They continue to hook up periodically when Tommy needs it and hurt themselves in new ways. Tommy’s no longer in danger of dropping like a fly, but at what cost? (He and Buck are both miserable because they have each other, but they don’t HAVE each other.)
Tommy insists that Buck is allowed to go sleep with other people if he wants to. They’re not dating, it’s not a big deal. Not like Tommy can catch or give anybody anything, anyway. (Because woo, sex demon logic)
(Tommy’s trying to help Buck get over him and instead triggering that sweet, sweet RSD. Does Tommy not want him? Is this purely transactional? Is Buck only good enough to fuck, never good enough to love?)
Tommy suggests that one night, and if you listen closely, you can hear the sound of Buck’s heart shattering into a million pieces.
One day Buck just snaps and is like “either we’re together or we’re not, but I can’t do whatever [*vague sharp hand gesture*] THIS is anymore, Tommy. I can’t. I’m sorry. I know that this is literally life-or-death for you, but this will be the death of me if we do it much longer.”
(Tommy immediately jumps to worst case but buck grovels instead and they end up together properly again and in MUCH better moods. And the sex is significantly less sad.)
Buck watches as Eddie's truck vanishes around a corner. It takes another five seconds for the tears he's spent the last 10 minutes holding back to start falling.
Eddie's leaving, and Buck's still standing on the sidewalk, tears streaming down his face, hands shoved in his pockets, watching him go.
Buck’s phone vibrates in his pocket, jolting him out of his trance. He pulls it out, looking down at the text lighting up his screen.
“I heard Eddie was leaving today. Are you doing okay?”
Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Buck clicks on the notification and opens Tommy’s contact, pushing the call button.
The call barely has enough time to ring before Tommy’s voice fills Buck’s ears.
“Bu- Evan. Are you okay?”
Is he? Good question.
Buck takes a shaky breath, letting it out slowly.
“Not really, but I’m glad you reached out. Can we talk?”
“Absolutely. Meet you at our cafe in thirty minutes? I’ll pay for the coffee this time.”
