Death Battle fanfic info: 1.22 2012 Link vs Cloud by 1228248, literature
Literature
Death Battle fanfic info: 1.22 2012 Link vs Cloud
Link vs Cloud Aired Sep 14, 2012. Link: Link VS Cloud (2012) | DEATH BATTLE! (youtube.com) “They’re two of the most iconic swordsmen in videogame history, known for taking on things way out of their league.” “Link, the champion of Hyrule.” “and Cloud Strife, guardian of the Lifestream, and orphans.” Scenario -arsenals taken from respective fighting franchises -said arsenal’s attributes and specs taken from all canon sources -best possible armor taken from all canon sources -no outside help (summons, fairies, etc.) Link Link is the legendary multi-incarnate hero of the Hyrule Kingdom. Humble and brave, he’s battled the forces of evil for over 10 generations. Background Age: around 17 Height: around 5’7” Bears the Spirit of the Hero Left-handed Skilled in boxing and sumo wrestling Multi-incarnate Humble and brave The Spirit of the Hero bestows the unbreakable will and combat prowess of each previous owner. Master Sword AKA Goddess Sword Crafted by the goddess Hylia Repels
Chapter 23 New Routine At 6:30am, Shai exits her bedroom ready to take on whatever obstacles Monday may put in her path. She is dressed and ready for her first round of physical therapy this morning. As per her PT notes, she is wearing clean, comfortable clothing that is breathable and soft to the touch: black yoga pants, a much-needed sports bra, and a teal v-neck t-shirt. Her hair is pinned up and back with numerous barrettes, combs, and bobby pins, but, aggravatingly, they still cannot contain the loose curls sprouting in all directions. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit she was a bit nervous about her new routine. Xander made the stretches look so effortless, but he is an able-bodied man who does these demonstrations for a living. She is a woman with a bruised and battered tailbone who is performing these exercises without the assistance and guidance of her physical therapist. Still, between Xander's repetitive instructions and her extensive note-taking, she should
Chapter 22 Burning Embers, Flying Sparks Shai wakes early on Sunday in good cheer, the dreamy threads of sleep broken by her high spirits. She clambers over her crumpled duvet and mounds of pillows in her exuberancy to begin her day and instantly regrets it. Pain erupts in her lower spine like a long dormant volcano exploding rock and fire into the atmosphere. Forced to observe greater restraint, she sits up, turns on the lamp, and swings her legs over the side of the bed. Her body wishes nothing more than to express her happiness by springing to her feet and proceeding to her bathroom with a bounce in her step and a twinkle in her eye. But due to the nature of her condition, she will sadly have to forgo the lively pace and settle for a slow progression. There are several elements influencing her mood this morning. The brand new easel standing prominently in her room, the beech wood's pale cream colour enriched by the oil finish. The final sketch of her bouquet propped against the
Chapter 21 Hearth and Home Shai's elation at sleeping soundly through the night into Saturday's mid morning is immediately eclipsed by the timpani section of hell's orchestra pounding away on either side of her head. She curls into a ball, pulls the duvet over her head, and curses her low tolerance to alcohol. She was so looking forward to today, like a child anticipating Santa's bounty on Christmas morning. Her new easel and art supplies are scheduled to be delivered this afternoon. Now she must deal with a host of hangover symptoms interfering with her plans. She makes a mental note to exercise better restraint when drinking with Dr. Moreau and the general and crawls from the security of her bed. She flicks on the light switch in the bathroom and cringes as the LED bulbs blare through their lampshades from either side of the mirror. She fumbles for a wash cloth from the glass cabinet and walks over to the sink to vigorously wash her face. Once finished, she continues on with the
Written on Her Back - Chapter Four by ProjectHYPOCRISY, literature
Literature
Written on Her Back - Chapter Four
Chapter Four: Think About the Good Times (and Never Look Back) "I said, "Tell me about what is real." ― Esmé Weijun Wang, The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays ----------------- I remember I was never too far from my mother's hand. Attached at the hip, dad would tease. Kathelyn would scoff. When I lost that handholding, I conceded to the wills of others. I became vulnerable and soft, like a newly hatched bird. I lost a part of myself, bigger than I realised. I desperately tried to find something that would fill that hole but nothing was enough. Even him. Especially him. They told me he died in Nibelheim -a terrorist attack -Avalanche, in fact. That's what they said officially to the public that ate up the story of the great hero Sephiroth and how he died in the line of duty, just like he should. People will accept what confirms their biases, it just so happened that in this case they believed a hero needed to die at the hand of an enemy; an enemy that never really existed. I
Written on Her Back - Chapter Three by ProjectHYPOCRISY, literature
Literature
Written on Her Back - Chapter Three
Chapter Three: Ghosts are Waiting for You
"I've got quite a vivid imagination and I'm easily overwhelmed by sensations and things that are beautiful or scary. I don't think I've ever seen a ghost - I think I'm probably haunted by my own ghosts than real ones."
-Florence Welch
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There's a place in everyone too dark for you to venture. I never understood why I kept this pendant, cradled in my palms. I assume my desire is to keep it close, even though that reason is lost in the abyss.
I was seven. I liked skipping rope and guilting people as I let fake tears streak my face. It had been three days since she picked m
Written on Her Back - Chapter Two by ProjectHYPOCRISY, literature
Literature
Written on Her Back - Chapter Two
Chapter Two: Frozen Waves Where the Past Comes Back to Life
"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."
--Lewis B. Smedes
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"You know, I don't blame them."
"Who?" I snapped out of a trance, the boat bobbing up and down across the inky ocean. We were well across the ocean now, the shore disappeared long ago into the black abyss of the midnight. Jofrey assured us he could drive his boat in the night despite Kathelyn's concerns. I wasn't willing
Written on Her Back - Chapter One by ProjectHYPOCRISY, literature
Literature
Written on Her Back - Chapter One
Chapter One: Runaways
"When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago."
― Friedrich Nietzsche
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"Do you remember when you were born?" Her voice like nails on a chalkboard, like a screeching halt of a turntable. When I said nothing, she continued, uncaring, "you were so hideously mucked up. Crying until I thought your lungs were about to burst."
She changed my dressing on the bed wound that festered on my side. I lay still, feeling very little as she peeled away the gauze from moist flesh. "I'm not sure you can stay here like this for much longer, Helena."
I reached for her hand, pleading, "n
Written on Her Back -Prologue by ProjectHYPOCRISY, literature
Literature
Written on Her Back -Prologue
It is dark. And cold. I am alone.
I can't remember much, only that it had been some time since I moved. How long, I wasn't sure. I dreamt of distant waves crashing ashore, the warm crackling of long field grass waving from side to side, the perfect melody. But that all seemed so far from me, like I lost it long ago in some fire, a fire that claimed the life I once knew. Now I was here. In a bed that wasn't mine, in a room, I did not ask for, with drugs in my veins that I did not cocktail. I can't speak to oppose them. I can't move to avoid them. So I lay down, staring at the ceiling, praying that I'll forget today too.
I will, however, neve
Pairing: Cloud x Zack, slight Aerith x Tifa. Warnings: None. Extra: Hybrid AU. EDIT: I forgot to add that I gathered inspiration by the many beautiful gifsets of ZackSoldiers, so please go and follow them! ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ 🐾 Aerith couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before her. Placing her basket of flowers on the kitchen counter; she put her hands on her hips as she watched her daft overgrown German Shepard hybrid wiggle his backside as he stared out of the window with noises of glee leaving his lips. “I take it that pretty blonde is out for his afternoon stroll again?” she asked and Zack jumped slightly as he had clearly been far too into his own world. “I didn’t think I’d be attracted to a Spaniel,” Zack grinned widely causing his owner to simply roll her eyes with a playful smile. Aerith approached him with her hand held out, fingers delicately stroking his fluffy black ears which, in turn, made the hybrid push into her touch. A