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The Day Link became...PART 4Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to part four (I think) in the "The Day Link became..." series! I'm Jaden und Verwelkt, your author of this story. But you can call me Jaden. Anyway, today we're dealing with...
LINK BEING REPLACED.
As you all should know, Link is the main character of the Zelda series. However, a lot of people have their Sue/self (same thing) bamf into Hyrule and either help Link, have sex, and marry or replace him all together. In this story, you will read how Link is replaced with...who else but a Sue? I mean, who else could be more powerful than the Hero of Time himself?
Anyway, Link will not be making an appearance in this edition because...well, he's been replaced. Duh. So yeah, HAVE FUN!
That said, let's have some disclaimers.
Disclaimer: I own this story, the idea, and so forth. Well, maybe not the idea of replacing Link...as others have done that loooong before I decided to parody it. Link and co. Link and co. belong to Shigeru Miyamoto and Nintendo. I own "Raevyn"
Outsider"Outsider" by Jaden und Verwelkt
I hate you,
I want you to know.
You're such a narcissist,
stuck in your own
the flames engraved your name
onto the shallow grave.
You're an outsider,
Don't know what's going through your own head.
You think you know me
but you really don't.
You're just an outsider,
You never knew me
Like you thought you did...
You're just an outsider to your own emotions;
Sometimes you wish you were dead.
You're just an outsider
You never knew me
and sometimes you wish you were dead.
Sometimes you wish you were dead...
I'm just an outsider to my own emotions...
Sometimes I feel like I'm dead.
I'm just an outsider to
my own emotions.
I can't feel my own heart beating.
The Day Link became...PART 3The Day Link became a Man and took a Darn Bath for once
Author's Note: Ooh yeah...part THREE of the "The Day Link became..." series! For those of you who don't know, "The Day Link became..." series is a series of parodies. Most of these parodies poke fun at clichéd ideas the badfic writers of the fandom come up with. Part three deals with the fact that, contrary to the fangirl's belief, Link does not smell like Jasmine, or the rolling green hills (even though Hyrule Field doesn't have hills) of Hyrule Field, or Roses or Axe Body Spray; he smells like monster gore, blood; is greasy, grimy and filthy; and no, his hair is not silky. His hair is greasy and all tangled and crap. Sheesh.
I do hope you fannits know that back in the Middle Ages (the time period Zelda takes place in) only Royalty had daily baths. Commoners didn't even have a weekly bath for god's sake. Link wouldn't be very clean.
So yeah, story time!
Zelda was waiting in the courtyard for him. They had an appointment at ar
The Day Link became...PART 1The Day Link Became Evil and Made Ganondorf Angry
Author's Note: Please do not kill me for this. I'm just making something rather humorous out of the upsurge of "Link is evil for some unknown reason!" fics, likewise with the "Link is evil yet there's no reason for him to be but he is anyway!" fics. I'm tired of them, so I'll just poke polite fun at them.
The summary: Link wakes up one morning and decides he wants to be evil. Only problem is, he doesn't have what it takes. Now about that villainous attire…
Link arose from his slumber one Saturday morning in the Kokiri Forest. Stretching and yawning, he got out of bed. He walked across the room, scratching his head and opening his wardrobe, which was filled with several tunics of a variety of colors.
"Hmm," he mused, pushing aside various attire and stopping.
"I feel like being evil today for a change. The only problem, however, is the fact that I don't have any villainous attire to wear," he said, searching throughout the closet-lik
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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