Sebilini
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Na koronację nowego króla Polski Marcina Jaskuleckiego zamiast prymasa przyjeżdża sam papież Piotr II, dawniej Jakub Adamczewski. Wieczorem papież przypomina królowi o dawnym zakładzie.
- Language:
- Polski
- Words:
- 2,232
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 28
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No one knows how or why it happens. Suddenly, all over the world, people become infected. That day marks the start of a zombie apocalypse, the end of the world. The Vatican is no exception.
Abandoned for the forseeable future
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“Stanford? Wha- Oh, fuck!”
And then, a bolt shooting out of a crossbow. A big, red stain. A loud thud of a body falling over. Stanford Pines took a step back as he watched his brother, Stanley Pines, choke on his own blood, trying to pull out the bolt sticking out of his throat. Stunned, he lowered his weapon, helplessly watching as the man lying in the snow struggled to take a single breath and fail.
******
Stan gets shot by Ford and fucking dies. Ford tries to fix this. Pretty standard Frankenstan AU premise that gets developed more.
Abandoned for the forseeable future.
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Catching your crush of 40 years spying on you under your door by Sebilini
Fandoms: LEGO Ninjago (Cartoon 2011-2022)
10 Mar 2025
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And there he was, the esteemed sensei Garmadon, squating on the floor, trying to pretend that he wasn't just now looking through the gap under the door and just adjusting his shoe. Clouse looked down at him with a confused expression.
-’... What are you doing?’- he finally asked.
- ‘Um, tying my shoe’- Garmadon answered, looking away.
- ‘Your shoes don't even have laces, what a stupid fucking lie. You were spying on me, Garmadon.’
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Clouse defeats Garmadon and chains him down in the basement. He's about to leave him to be eaten by his pet, but he changes his mind at the last moment.
Recent bookmarks
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The choices we make, or others make for us, change who we become. Or do they?
Julian Bashir was meant to be a doctor. But when his augment status nearly comes to light at Starfleet Academy, he pivots—quietly, strategically—into engineering, hiding among Starfleet's remote outposts. His latest assignment: a contested Class-P planet, where the days stretch to 27 hours and the company is limited to a handful of observers… including one Garak. Charming. Cryptic. Dangerous?
Cut off from the rest of the galaxy by atmospheric interference, Julian finds himself navigating more than the frigid planet surface. As he and Garak find themselves in close quarters—and closer conversations—the outpost begins to fail. Hidden agendas surface, and a fragile alliance may be the only thing standing between survival and ruin.
A ‘butterfly flaps its wings’ AU where Julian and Garak cross paths years before the events of DS9.
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Bill returns to his painting, and Ford recognizes it as the same work from his last visit. More stars have been planted, and Bill has flourished them in depth and detail. He’s about to comment on the piece, but Bill pierces him with something completely unexpected first.
“When are you destroying Euclydia?”
a one-shot based off @orxinus' "euclydia rises" au, a universe where multi-dimensional war criminal ford pines meets simple artist bill cipher.
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Ford-mania: The Multidimensional Stanford Pines Meetup! by gAdgEt920
Fandoms: Gravity Falls
09 Nov 2024
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WARNING:
In a secluded branch of O’Sadleys there’s a little get together of different interdimensional versions of the Criminal Entity “Stanford Pines.”Residents are advised to FLEE the scene immediately and call the Axolotl Counsel when you’ve come in contact with this Criminal.
DO NOT ENGAGE THIS ENTITY AT ALL COSTS
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“I want to try,” Fiddleford says, gentle and windswept, “to be something good for you.”
Hope is a silly thing. It has burned Stan one too many times, and yet Stan keeps letting it, fool that he is. “Okay,” he agrees, and folds their hands together. It’s a clumsy fit: Stan’s fingers are thick and calloused, Fiddleford’s spindly and bitten at the nail. “Let’s try to be something good.”
Stan and Fiddleford try to be something good. It takes them thirty years. Companion piece to meltwater pulse, but can be read as a standalone.
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Stan jerks away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not going to be second-best,” he growls, eyes dark. There’s a certain angry defiance in Stan that’s enrapturing, white-hot like wildfire. “I know I’m not as good as him, but I can’t—” His chest heaves. “I won’t do that to myself.”
Fiddleford reaches up, tracing the curve of his cheekbone. And it only takes his touch for Stan to fall apart again, to tremble like a newborn calf.
Beautiful, Fiddleford thinks.