Zelink Week 2024 | Day 4 | Echoes of Wisdom | Enchantment
The connection to the prompt seemed far more obvious to me when I first thought of it, but I still think there's merit to Link being pulled into a spell while Zelda is breaking free of hers for this one.
@zelinkcommunity
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For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable:
- Matching messed up hands built for holding
- Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton
- Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded
- Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions
- Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells
- Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne
- Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder
- Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne'
Use how you will
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Re-draw of my first sketch from this fic. I cannot find the post.
'Elbows on the wooden surface, Shikamaru leaned forward, pathetically gesticulating floppy fingers as he spoke to the barman. His sharp nose jutted out of his profile, reddened with what seemed to be sunburn, and a little ball of hair sat knotted at the base of his neck. Stray hairs, not long enough to reach the hair-tie holding it in place, fell out to frame his face and ears, and below the little silver hoops in them hung a small pair of orange-padded earphones. Their colour was striking against his pale skin and dark hair, and Temari followed their cord down to his jacket pocket, where it disappeared entirely.
[...]
As quickly as it had hit her, the image of the little boy faded, and in its place stood a man: a fully grown man ordering a drink at a bar and plucking a cigarette from the pocket where his headphone cord disappeared. [...]
Shikamaru had grown up. When exactly, she couldn’t pinpoint — maybe when his father had died, maybe during their first night in Rome, or perhaps even before — but the fact remained that he had. There was stubble on his chin, stubble that was neither patchy nor short enough to suggest he’d just forgotten to shave.'
Grandmaster ao3 by @notquitejiraiya
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