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Edward Cullen vs. Edward ElricEdward vs. Edward
Once upon a blank piece of paper, two very different characters from two very different fandoms happened to bump into each other.
One was short (but don't tell him that!), had long blond hair pulled back in a braid and wore a striking red overcoat. The other was tall, bronze-haired and wore a T-shirt with "I'm 2 sexy 4 my sparklz" printed on the front. The only traits they had in common were their genders, golden eyes, first names and the utter shock of meeting each other. Both gasped dramatically, pointed a finger at the other and yelled,
"IT'S EDWARD CULLEN!"
"IT'S EDWARD ELRIC!"
After shouting the obvious truth to the world (hey, this is the realm of fan fiction! Of course they'd recognize each other right away!), the two Edwards stood in stunned silence and scrutinized each other carefully.
Wow, he really IS as short as I've heard he is... Edward Cullen mused, scratching his pale, glistening, perfectly-sculpted chin. (Twilight fangirls across
It's About JumpingShivering, she stands
With toes curld around the edge;
Too frightened to move.
She sees her father
Holding out his arms to her,
She looks down and gulps.
The water is so, so deep
And shes up so high.
Jump! You can do it!
His words ring with confidence
That she doesn't feel.
What if she should drown?
He promises to catch her.
Can she take the risk?
He is her Father.
He never fails to catch her,
But the drop is far.
She looks in his eyes.
Her trust in him is greater
Than the diving board.
So she holds her breath.
Backing up a few paces,
She runs...and she jumps.
Faith is not a noun
As much as it is a verb.
Faith is an action;
Not about hoping,
Nor about warm sentiments.
Faiths about jumping.
The Memory TreeBut Nurse, I'm not...not...tired... The five-year-old trailed off into a yawn.
The old woman raised her eyebrows and chuckled. Not tired, eh? We'll see about that, young prince. She reached down to where he sat on the rug among his toys and hoisted him up with a grunt. Gracious, child; either I have the strength of a frog or you're getting heavier.
A frog!" he giggled, clearly delighted with the idea. Froggies! Ribbit, ribbit, rib-- He ended in a small hiccup and blinked sleepily. Nurse chuckled again and lightly tweaked his nose.
Speaking of frogs (whether they ribbit or hiccup), one of these days I'll have to tell you about Marshwiggles.
What are...what are marsha-wiggles? he asked, cocking his head to one side and putting a finger in his mouth.
Not marsha-wiggles, Caspian. Marsh-wiggles. And don't you go chewing on your fingers now, scolded Nurse, pulling his hand
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More