I_AM_Panicking_At_The_Disco



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    Tim wakes up inexplicably in his two-year-old body. Which: odd. But just think, how many people would kill to have an opportunity to redo their life! And Tim has so much he wants to change, so much he wants. He wants to feel important to Bruce. He wants to be Dick's favorite. He wants Jason (his childhood hero) to think he's cool. He wants Damian to need him. And really, is it manipulation if his family benefits from it?

    Or: He was halfway through the second trash can, when a startled “Good lord” caught him off guard. Tim glanced up, the rhythmic sucking of his pacifier coming to a still at the sight of a black Rolls Royce idling at the side road that lead to Wayne Manor. Alfred was staring at him from the over the car top, aghast. “Master Bruce, it’s not a raccoon.”

    From the back seat, Bruce Wayne stared at him. Tim stared back.

    Or: Tim is side tracked by his actual childish needs and wants, gets a whole bunch of his nannies fired, terrorizes his parents with a series of petty revenges, is an honest employer of one (1) newly minted murderer for hire, endears himself to – and thoroughly weirds out – the Waynes, and is generally just a petty, manipulative, vindictive, smol boy.

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    17 Dec 2024

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.

    Bonded.

    He was bonded for life.

    "Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."

    ----------

    Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.

    (tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)

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    12 Dec 2024

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    The plan was simple, really—Danny would pretend to be Izuku’s quirk. Izuku would go to U.A., become a pro hero, and they would get to help people together.

    Said plan became a lot more complicated when factoring in two things: one, a semi-immortal bastard who could take and give quirks at a moment’s whim; two, Izuku had told said bastard’s archenemy he was quirkless.

    And guess who appeared to have suddenly manifested several quirks thanks to Danny’s help?

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    09 Dec 2024

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    "...what?" Arthur asked blearily as the boy set down his food. Merlin didn't even pause as he went to the dresser and tossed some more clothes out of the cabinet. "You... You have an apprentice?" He repeated and squinted. "Why?"

    "Oh, you know," Merlin shrugged, tossing a tunic on the bed "In case I die or something." He said. The boy blinked before glancing over at Merlin with pursed lips.

    "You're not dying, are you?" He asked and Arthur had to shake his head to try and keep up with the conversation.

    "I don't think so... But you can never be certain." Merlin told him with an air of stoicism. Arthur scowled. Honestly. This was ridiculous. Clearly, this was his servant's newest attempt to get out of work (or at least work less).

    "Merlin, you're not getting an apprentice." Arthur told him. Merlin stopped to look at the king.

    "I am. I have. He's right there. Say hi, Daegal."

    "Hi!"

    Or

    Daegal lives. Merlin takes him on as an apprentice. Arthur isn't sure what's going on. Mordred is also mad for some reason.

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    06 Dec 2024

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    The body of a Prince was not like anyone’s. His hand only ever held others in a firm handshake, and rarely without gloves. Sometimes he would raise the delicate hands of noble ladies to his lips for a brief kiss, but it was all out of propriety. He rarely touched others, but what was even rarer was others touching him. The only ones who dared were his knights, and even they only smacked his shoulder or patted his back in friendly roughhousing. Gripping each other’s arms before battle was the most heartfelt touch they exchanged. Lingering soft touches were not done. Any lingering touch on his person could be interpreted as political movements. After all, Arthur’s body wasn’t his own. It never had been. He was Camelot’s first and foremost. Even above his own needs and wants.

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    05 Dec 2024