pattycake17
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The first time Iwaizumi gets shot down from the sky by a heat-seeking missile, he still has seven hours left in the dream. He dies slowly in the wreckage of his Japanese fighter jet, the shrapnel in his gut poisoning his blood even as his skin boils black and oozes through the cracks of third degree burns. He lies there, gasping desperately for air, and all he knows is the cold, clawing of fear and pain and a loneliness so acid it almost drowns out all the rest.
The taste and shape of Oikawa’s name hovers on his lips as he jerks awake.
After that, Iwaizumi keeps a gun strapped to his chest whenever he is under, and every time he wakes up, gasping from the imagined pain of a bullet to the brain, he thinks of Oikawa and the contagious naiveté of academia, and he thinks of good intentions.
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Note: No extensive knowledge or understanding of the Inception movie is required for the enjoyment of this fic.Bookmarked by pattycake17
21 Mar 2026
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"Max has dumped me five times. But what have I done? Huh? Have I despaired? No. I’ve marched back into battle, and I’ve won her back every single freaking time."
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Or all the times Max broke up with Lucas, and all the times he fixed it.
Bookmarked by pattycake17
01 Jan 2026
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It’s late in the morning when Zhou Zishu steps into the common area of the hostel. He's greeted by an unfamiliar interior, which should be right, after all, not even a full day has passed since he found the place, but what should be his minimum recognition of the place after a night and getting an extensive walking tour from the receptionist is stripped to nothing; like it’s his first time seeing it all over again. He would be generous to himself and assume he somehow stepped into a different building — a museum for ancient China probably or a showroom of the same concept — but it is, undeniably the same building. Although very noticeably, the sofas and bean bags that cluttered the common area are replaced with furnished wooden benches and tables, the shared kitchen that is initially his goal for the morning to get a cup of coffee has disappeared, and guests in heavy robes and elaborate headpieces sip their teas in one corner where the Americans had spent the whole afternoon day-drinking just twelve hours ago.
or — zzs books a room at a cheap hostel for a month and instantly regrets it the next morning
Bookmarked by pattycake17
22 Dec 2025
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“he hadn't said ‘kill them.’ not yet. he’d said ‘find.’ which meant lurking. it meant waiting. it meant using the brain that everyone said was broken, instead of the rockets that everyone knew worked just fine.”
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the undercity is built on secrets, and now, those secrets are for sale.
modern au timebomb. silco survives the tea party, post season 1. :)
Bookmarked by pattycake17
12 Dec 2025
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"the kiramman estate was everything jinx hated. snow everywhere, blindingly white and quiet, like the world had been wrapped in cotton and then bleached. the cabin, or whatever the fuck this glorified log mansion was, sat there. huge and dark wood, with windows that already had that cozy, fire-lit orange glow."
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modern au, timebomb-centric christmas fic! a week with jinxs best friend, a family truce standing on thin ice, and stupid holiday traditions. what could go wrong?
Series
- Part 1 of season / holiday fics
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- English
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Bookmarked by pattycake17
11 Dec 2025