#i got behind in posting again

[moonfromearth]

BFF Household

I literally just wanted to use this hair on Liberty and it turned into a household makeover 😅

[skunkes]

that white boy needs to stop touching all the god damn food

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[mllenugget]

Hello I mcyt fandom-ified la Team du Lundi members and wrote a shit ton of text about it

After exhausting myself on trying to catch up on the current QSMP lore I got a sudden craving for a more familiar and fast paced kind of minecraft content and ended up rewatching all the Team du Lundi's SMP best of's I could find

And while doing so with my brain still hazed in fandom brainrot, I started picking up on minor details or info the players casually dropped, and drew parallels to the French speakers' QSMP counterparts This is going to be a long wordy post I don't even know what I am rambling about and for. Three things you need to be aware of about la Team du Lundi before reading :

Baghera, Antoine and Etoiles are the only QSMP players that are part of la Team du Lundi

As far as I remember the only two elements that suggest that la Team du Lundi's SMP could be canon to QSMP are Antoine being pressured into building another Tower of Shit, and Baghera's infamous fountain being mentioned when she was asked if her character remembers anything from her past before the island

La Team du Lundi's SMP was NOT a roleplaying server, it was just a private survival server for a small circle of friends casually playing together. So whenever I quote someone in this specific post, it is the streamer : there is no character other than the persona the streamer is usually showing on stream, but I just thought it would be fun to interpret certain situations while keeping in mind the QSMP lore. And here goes :

Baghera claims that when she was a kid she strongly believed that she could breathe underwater. The others joke about her having fins

Antoine jokingly tells Baghera he doesn’t need oxygen at all

Antoine claims he will still be alive thousands of years forwards

Antoine’s voice shifts when he wants to appear creepy

Baghera built an aquarium at her place, then helped Antoine build one at his tower, then built a giant swimming pool, then a fountain, then a waterslide- do you see a theme ?

Baghera knows that her skin is actually that of a chick and not a duckling, and calls it so here

Chat said that Baghera has a middle child syndrome, justifying that she bullies Angle Droit because Etoiles bullies her in the first place (Etoiles has also called her « little sister » in a derogatory way)

Etoiles has repeatedly asked people to play Valorant with him at least once

Here's a clip of Etoiles getting languaged in french and owing "a gifted sub in the swear jar"

Unrelated random clip of Etoiles because it creates happy hormones in me brain

Etoiles is regularly refered to as "the warrior"

Etoiles guided the whole group during an expedition to the End and he was literally glowing doing so (enchanted arrows effect) Everyone called him "the guide"

Baghera was the one who gave the final blow to the Enderdragon (and died from magic right after)

Etoiles spent most of his time adventuring in order to bring stuff and gear back to everyone for their builds

Etoiles asked Aypierre for help in order to design a redstone door for his cave which could only open upon solving a puzzle (which was egg & arrow related) (Aypierre was not a member of the server)

Etoiles built a nightclub with the walls and ceiling covered in wardenblocks making it look like a starry sky. He also rehomed Allays holding golden apples inside claiming them to be the souls working for him and that they lived there peacefuly

Etoiles jokingly talks about Antoine acting jealous and violent towards him because Etoiles told him he wanted to go and visit Kameto (who also was not a member of the server)

Baghera (along with Horty) had a rivalry with Joueur du Grenier (host of the server with admin powers) after he decided to build a massive parking lot right next to their house. They countered by covering the whole thing with dirt, followed by JDG building a factory and the two parties went back and forth. Baghera argued that it was stupid because they didnt even have cars to begin with (which is a sentence she reused when talking about Forever's roads) Also she tells JDG that he could've built a seaport instead, which makes JDG contemplate the thought of building an airport (and though he ended up never building it, I am side eyeing the French's plane crash)

At some point JDG wonders about what a roleplaying minecraft server would look like (RPZ 2), to which Baghera replies that she has a hard time picturing the thing "We'd all just build things you see ? I don't think we'd create stories, we would all just be like "I'm a builder, ah you too ? Well awesome, builders, cool"" and I find this to be hilariously ironic (fun fact : Baghera had no idea that QSMP was a roleplaying server when she first joined and often claims she would've taken a different approach with her character had she known right off the gate)

As I was finishing to write this down, these fuckers (/lh) decided to host a closure night for the server as they've never really officially did it, everyone just sort of deserted the server after a while. Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine kept referring to QSMP throughout the night, mostly talking about how weird it felt without mods. Among other meta commentary things

They mentionned Cellbit and Bad multiple times as the group was trying to solve enigmas. Antoine talked about "the cultural sharing" between communities as he taught insults to each others with Mike, Roier and Maximus in their respective languages Multiple more players were namedropped (including eggs) while Antoine was talking about how the server functions

Yes, Baghera and Etoiles kept their QSMP skins. Etoiles with his code corrupted purgatory one, and Baghera with her fading pink disheveled hair (with the addition of her cubito wearing Horty's merch)

Baghera admits that going back to this small familiar vanilla server feels like coming back home to your family during the holidays

Team du Lundi's cameos in QSMP :

Though Pomme has never canonically met JDG (even though most of her parents have talked about him to her at least once), she occasionaly breaks the 4th wall to refer to him. She once compared one of BBH's "vacation" flower shirts with his, and when Foolish and Bad asked her to elaborate (obviously not getting the reference) she proceeded to play JDG's music theme with the flute instead (Also I really feel the need to once more point out how mindblowing it is for your average french speaking viewer to have JDG's intro theme being added to the mod they use in the QSMP because of how anchored it is within french internet pop culture. Like this shit has been existing for 14 fucking years, it's part of the childhood of a lot of us, so to find a clip of British hardcore player Philza peacefuly listening to Mexican egg admin Tallulah play this theme on her flute feels like a multiverse fever dream)

Horty has been on Quesadilla Island through cc!Baghera's account, but neither of them really wanted to justify it RP wise. Baghera just wanted to give her best friend a tour of the island. Horty only got to meet Richarlyson who gave her a tour of Cellbit's castle and made her pick a room (she chose Chaos). She also chatted with Etoiles who tagged along for a bit and (this is obviously justified by it being a one-shot out of roleplay filler episode kind of night) they both already knew each other and were on friendly enough terms to bicker with one another Also she was part of the French speakers Quackity reached out to to invite on the server, but she had to decline because she was very busy at that time (and also not interested) Also also she was Baghera's teammate for that Formula 4 event, and Baghera has discussed it and showed pictures to a couple of islanders, including Richas who was very hyped about it

Another player the viewers were hoping to see on Quackity's server is Mynthos. He exists within the server with the picture of him that hangs in Pomme's art gallery, the cursed animation video that used to play in La France, as well as with Aypierre's health potion factory that bears his name

Angle Droit and Zerator are sometimes namedropped when the French speakers talk with their chat. Angle Droit frequently raids Baghera's and Antoine's streams, and though it has never been confirmed, a lot of viewers theorized that she was the +1 player Baghera and Etoiles wanted to invite on the server had they won the elections.

As for Zera, Etoiles went AFK on QSMP a couple of times in order to test some of Zerator's TrackMania maps (which he later discussed with Pac). I also remember a very trivial conversation Etoiles had with Mouse and Aypierre where he laughed about hurting his back very badly after carrying a fellow streamer during a caritative event, said event was hosted by Zerator (he's also the one judging them with concern from his desk)

I'm done.

Bonus alternative design for Angle Droit because at first I thought she was a fox then it turned out she was a corgi but then she changed it again to a fox and woop

[deoidesign]

I'll either succeed or I'll learn trying

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 95

Part 1 Part 94

There’s something wrong with Steve. His head’s full of cotton, and he feels like if he tries to lift it, it’ll be so weighed down his neck will snap. His hand weighs a lot too, fingers zinging error messages into his brain as they twitch.

Even his skin’s tight, like all his insides have grown and they’re putting pressure on his outsides until he’s fit to burst.

Opening his eyes feels like a momentous task, but he hears voices, and there’s something rough and warm clasping his hand. It’s been dark and cold for so long.

Steve opens his eyes.

The light is muted, but it’s enough that he can see the hand holding his own. He’d know those callouses anywhere. Those bitten nails. Those rings.

“You’re not Wayne,” he mutters, voice coming out choking and raspy, like he’s recovering from a cold.

He shudders, remembering the smoke and the choking. The voices cut out, a hush falling over the room aside from an annoying beeping noise Steve knows all too well. The scratchy sheets and cardboard mattress he knows with even more familiarity.

“I’m right here, son,” Wayne murmurs gruffly, from Steve’s other side.

Eddie gasps, theatrical even in a moment like this. “You want Wayne instead of me?” Steve grunts his affirmation, too tired to try nodding his head. “Why?”

“It’s tradition.”

Uncle Wayne huffs, but reaches for his other hand, holding it firmly. Wayne’s always holding his hand in hospital rooms. Steve hopes he can keep this.

He shifts his head, even that small moment making the edges of his eyes fizz and spark, but he wants to see Eddie. Needs to.

His eyes are wide and scared, dark shadows beneath them hollowing him out. There’s a cut along his forehead and another on his swollen nose, two black eyes swelling them. His eyebrows are raised, like he needs his eyes as clear as possible to be able to meet Steve’s gaze.

Steve tries to reach his hand out toward Eddie’s ruined face, but Eddie’s holding on too tight, so his fingers just futilely twitch against their constraints. “What happened?”

Eddie sobs, tears pouring down his cheeks as he drops Steve’s hand to lunge forward and bury his face in Steve’s neck, arms holding onto his torso hard enough to hurt.

Steve reaches his hand up, using all his strength to bury it into the loose hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck. It’s greasy and tangled, but Steve still winds his fingers in, rubbing listlessly against Eddie’s scalp as he sobs.

Eddie’s seat is quickly snatched up by Will. “What happened?” Steve asks again, hoping someone will respond. Will doesn’t open his mouth. He’s squinting at Steve like he’s looking for answers when Steve doesn’t even know the questions.

Steve shrinks back, but he doesn’t make it far with Eddie’s weight pinning him down, and his muscles still unresponsive.

Will’s gaze softens when he sees the twitch, and he nods, an affirmative response to the question Steve still doesn’t know.

Will pulls on their connection gently. It feels like his hands are reaching past Steve’s skin and lighting up his heart. Steve pulls right back, hoping it feels as comforting as it does for Steve.

Will’s eyes shine, but he’s smiling all wobbly and warm in Steve’s direction. “It wasn’t you.”

Steve’s fingers curl tighter into Eddie’s skull, the hairs on his arms standing on end. “What wasn’t?”

Will doesn’t answer, but he stands up, shuffling forward until his knees hit the edge of Steve’s bed. He’s looking down at Steve now, tears streaming.

“Will?” Ms. Byers calls, drawing Steve’s attention for the first time to her presence in the room. Steve can’t turn his head enough to catch her eye, but there’s something hard and warning in her voice.

“It wasn’t him,” Will reiterates, lifting his gaze to look over at her. The new angle bares his throat. Steve’s breath catches painfully, lungs seizing when he sees the bruising around Will’s windpipe.

They’re a deep purple and span the width of his throat – long reaching bruises like someone’s fingers had been around his throat.

“What wasn’t me?” Steve asks, but he already knows. He can feel it in the whirls on his fingertips.

Will looks back down at him, biting his lip before crawling atop the bed beside Eddie, pushing his face into Steve’s ribs. Steve shakes his hand free of Wayne’s, wrapping it around Will’s back gently.

He only ever wanted to be gentle with Will.

It takes monumental effort to turn his head enough to see Ms. Byers, and Eddie’s jostled in the process, but he has to see. He has to know.

Her eyes are hard and probing when they meet his. Just like Will’s had been. Like she’s trying to burrow straight into his brain and root around until she finds his culpability.

Ms. Byers has always been a soft touch with the ones she loves. It’s not a surprise when her eyes soften, and she reaches out, brushing his hair out of his eyes. She leans in to kiss his forehead.

It’s overwhelming being covered with so many bodies. But it’s warm. Steve wants to suffocate in it.

But there’s still a black hole in his brain where his memories should be; part of him is curled up small in his closet, waiting for his Mom to come back from her trip.

So, when Ms. Byers leans back, settling into her chair, he turns to Wayne.

Uncle Wayne the honest. The forthright. The dependable. “What happened?”

Wayne looks sad, but he doesn’t hesitate to speak. “It weren’t you,” he starts, raising his hand when Steve opens his mouth to protest. “But that thing that was inside ya did some damage.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Wayne’s hands are big and loose on the dirty knees of his work jeans.

“What did I do?” Steve asks again. Eddie clutches Steve tighter, snuffling as Steve pats his head.

Wayne grimaces, like he wants to protest but he doesn’t. Steve’s glad. He explains Steve disappearing into himself, the men with their guns he helped bury beneath the earth.

Their desperate attempts to bring Steve back. He remembers some of it in flickers, like a home movie of someone else’s life that’s been partially recorded over. A palimpsest. A wound.

Will’s voice reverberating through the darkness with a reverent “save you.” Wayne’s quiet, “my boy.” Eddie’s warbling, “loved you.”

The heat of skin.

A girl.

He doesn’t remember the death, or the shouting, or the pain. Like he’d hidden himself so well that only the light could get in past all that darkness.

Something in him breaks.

“I’m sorry,” he says, unsure of who he’s talking to. Will? Eddie? The people in this room? All those dead strangers? “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t you,” Will says again, tucking himself further into Steve’s chest.

He should push Will and Eddie away. He’s a ticking time bomb, a magnet for all their unfortunes. He’ll drag them both down with him.

But he’s always been weak. He pulls them in, burying his nose in Eddie’s hair and hunkering down.

Eddie starts it. He tugs on his connection to Steve. Steve tugs back, then pulls on Will until they’re all in a constant feedback loop Steve swears he can feel in his heart.

People are dead at his feet. But it’s warm, here in this room with the people he loves best.

He relaxes into the uncomfortable hospital bed, brain fuzzy, skin warm as he falls to sleep, with dreams full of light.

And warmth.

Part 96

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary

[chappellrroan]

people who still hate Joe Alwyn need to get a life asap

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out there's a big craft guild organization thing only a few hours from where I live (I saw an ad for their craft fair), and I got like half my holiday shopping done on their website, and the box arrived today! The thing I was most excited to see in person is fragile, though, and it's really well wrapped in bubble wrap and I don't want it to break when I mail it to the friend it's for, so I am not unwrapping it, but oh man the temptation is there lol I also got myself a little metal bug made of a bottle cap and some wire. It lives on my little corkboard where I put postcards and thank you cards now

[intramoon]

Nes + Erin: partners in crime & platonic soulmates & always dressed coded (+ Erin all grown-up. ;-;)

[nozomijoestar]

i really like the dichotomy of everyone respecting Nana as their friend off stage (and the darker feeling she has that they All take from her in one way or another except Karen) but inside the stage duels as performers with her as their ultimate test, they're all still prideful enough to treat it as every man's glory for themselves, making it so they can't hold a grudge against Nana outside the Revues because to everyone the Revues are Just Business and a space for words that don't belong outside it- which plays into the repression that's hurting all their relationships, they really thought of everything making this series

[jaiquill]

Oo! If ur open to suggestions, why not draw one (or more) of the lmk cast in a dress?

Kinda had fun with this XD Here you go (click for better quality)

[waspgrave]

me being nb and feeling bad that I think Taash’s whole story is a mess. I want to like them. I do like them as long as I’m ignoring The Family Friendly pirates, the irl modern words for sexuality right down to a codex entry, ‘anyone can leave the qun’ despite you complaining about it and your mother who is clearly a victim of it enough to smuggle you out, the forced binary choice to choose either embrace Rivaini culture or the Qun like ?? The cringe growling….. What is happening? Did they really need to be written in the whitest queer person way possible?

[crescentfool]

somehow i never drew the big cat from persona 3??? so here is ryoji and the big cat. as a treat.

[apollos-boyfriend]

the instant downwards spiral of danganronpa’s female characters after thh is so insane to me. like while thh has its issues and is no way perfectly written its female cast is largely treated like Normal People with real motivations and complex inner lives on par with the male cast. and then you get to literally every other game in the series and it’s like. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development. obscenely obvious pedo bait. literally 0 character. sexualized sa victim. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Thinking of the end of Zelda Twilight Princess and TP Link again

Since the start of your journey, all you've tried to do is keep your home and your loved ones safe. You hardly understood your own destiny at first, the major role you were to play in this world. Though you could never have refused the future that lay before you, it remains that it's this wish to protect your home, your loved ones, and to bring everything back to normalcy that drove you in the beginning. And it, too, remains that even though you found others to care for and had accepted your destiny (that there became a point where you embraced your role in fixing everything), that original goal still remained. After all, you, the people you care about, none of you can go home or live in safety until the threat is defeated.

What if you'd started out as a boy from a small, rural town, one who'd hardly dreamed large, but couldn't shake his curiosity in the world outside. You never wanted to leave your village for long, but you were interested in getting a chance to see Hyrule's capital, meet those people your older friend had told stories of. And then, when the monkey's paw curled and the goddesses gave you a grand adventure, all you wanted was to pave the way for everyone to be able to go home, including yourself. Once it was all over, you and everyone else could finally relax, right? Things would finally go back to normal, wouldn't they? And the children could forget the horrors they'd seen, like none of it ever happened.

But after all that... Even after shedding the hero's tunic, returning the sword of evil's bane to its resting place, and finally returning home with everyone...home is not the same anymore. You were supposed to feel safe again, comforted by the sounds of the nearby wood, the smell of the goats, and the rough texture of the pumpkins that grow in the village, but even lying in your own bed makes you restless and feel on edge. Sometimes, the children still run around the village like they used to, playing pranks on each other and playing hero, but each one of them has an air of...maturity that wasn't there before.

Colin is more confident. He doesn't follow you around or spend as much of his time watching the other kids play. He spends time telling his baby sister stories and training with his father (like you once had) to learn the way of the sword. The other kids don't pick on him as much anymore either.

And Talo. Talo thinks the village is much too defenseless now, especially after everything he's been through. He never really left the rooftops of Kakariko Village, the village lookout who was trying to protect everyone the only way he could. He's even confided in you before that he's trying to learn a weapon too, and trying to convince Colin to join forces with him as village protectors. According to Talo, Colin says there's no need to worry with you and his dad around. No better protection than a hero, right? But Talo says he knows you and Rusl won't always be around. And...maybe that's true. One day, you too will grow old with time, but something about the way Talo says it makes you feel...uneasy. As if he was seeing right through you. Was he seeing something you were ignoring, or was he really truly talking about the day in which you are no longer able to protect anyone?

Beth is still a bit boy crazy, still fancies herself more mature than the others as she had before, but there's some respect there now when she interacts with them. She refuses to tell you what she's been up to, but you've seen her working in her mother's shop, talking to Uli as she feeds her baby, reading with her father, and helping Ilia wash Epona in the spirit's spring. Ilia seems to know more than she lets on when telling you that it's a casual hangout, but you have an inkling of what it's about. Given the others, it's no surprise if Beth, too, is trying to find her place here, trying to help in some way.

Malo is perhaps the one who'd changed most obviously. While everyone had been happy to go home after the defeat of Ganondorf, Malo couldn’t simply stay the same quiet kid who'd followed his brother around. He'd built a growing business back in Kakariko, dedicated to making goods affordable to the common person and raising funds to fix up local infrastructure. He couldn’t continue to run it from Ordon (though Sera's told you that he'd made an offer on her shop). You've even been able to hear him muttering under his breath about the state of Malo Mart management, and plotting to skip town (after all, young as he is, and after everything that's happened, there's no way his parents would just let him go back on his own). As before, Malo doesn't speak to you often, but he had...said something that shook you not long ago. He'd not so subtly "hinted" that you could make an excuse to leave, and that it wouldn't be hard for him to stow away as you went on your trip. You didn't know quite what to say, but when you began to mention his parents he'd cut you off. "So you're too scared to leave."

(Are you too scared? No, of course you could leave if you wanted to. And you don't want to, do you? You're home again, which is the only place you've wanted to be since the world went to shit. It'll just take...time for you to feel okay again. No better place than home to heal, right?)

But it's...not just the kids who've changed. Fado was happy to have you back, of course (he's always said no one wrangles the goats quite like you), but he’d... Well, even though he was the one who extended the offer, he seems to fear this is beneath you, that he's tying you down, keeping you from a grander life. No matter how much you assure him this is exactly where you want to be, that you just want things to return to normal, he doesn't seem convinced.

Not to mention the rumors in the village of your feats, all the talking behind your back. You'd been celebrated as a hero when you and Rusl returned back with the missing children, and now, since you've been trying to return to normalcy, others continue to be weird around you. You're a hero (were at least), yes, but are you not the same Link the villagers have known as long as you've lived here? Do you not occasionally assist with their troubles. Do you not try to make occasional small talk as before? So why do they seem to have trouble talking to you? Why do they have so much to say, and yet none of it said to your face?

Home has changed. And even that which has stayed the same doesn't feel...correct. That which is still familiar feels like nostalgia slipping through your fingers, not the reality before you.

But then again, when you spend weeks following your old routine, trying to act as you did before, and nothing seems to get better. When you lay in a bed (your bed) that's the same as it was when you first left it, you wake up sweaty and fearful from nightmares, and you feel exposed when you should feel safe, is it home that's the problem? What about when you look at the sunset and dream of places faraway, of the people you met and the things you've seen, and it feels like something's missing (something, perhaps, not wholly unrelated to the person people you'll probably never see again)?

Ilia was the one who first assured you that this path was the right one. When she finally had a chance to relax, deal with her amnesia head on, it was reminders of home and her past which comforted her, allowed her to get better. Of course, you know she'd never just forget everything she'd been through before, and she wouldn't expect you to either, but she'd agreed that being home would allow you to heal too. That's...that's what you've been hoping.

On many occasions you think about confiding it all in her, telling her what you've been going through, but you can't go through with it. Not when she seems...happy again.

So, after weeks of letting bits and pieces slip, you finally confide in Rusl. It's a day similar to all those months ago. The sun is setting as you and he sit at the spirit's spring after a long day, and he tells you about his week. You tell him that even as things get better, they don't really get better. When you don't have nightmares of tragedy and never ending battles and failure, you're dreaming of the people and places you met during your journey. No matter how much time you spend there, or how much furniture you move around to your liking, or decorations you add to the walls, the idea of your home being home feels like you and the feeling are separated by an impenetrable wall of glass. You can see that feeling of comfort, of home, of familiarity, but you just can't quite touch it. Your house is yours, and yet you can't seem to fit in it anymore. You've gone back to normal, and yet everyone is treating you differently. You try to relax, and you just can't quite sit still, feeling like...

You finally admit that feeling you've been stuffing down to him as you ramble (something rare for you to begin with). It's not just that you can't feel safe at home, that healing is a tough process, but that you feel like there's something yet you need to do. It doesn't feel right trying to be the person you were before. The routine which should be great for its simplicity and famliliarity feels wrong, almost stifling.

Did you really think you could just go home after all you'd seen and been through, go back to that small world and cut off the rest of it, just so things could be like they were before?

Maybe it's you who's wrong. Maybe you're broken and your edges dulled and chipped so the old pieces don't fit back together anymore–

But Rusl, ever a comforting presence in your life, just hugs you. He says he cannot even begin to comprehend the things you've been through. He acknowledges how hard it is to heal. Both things you already knew.

Then...he tells you his story, that he knows how hard it is to return to all of this after such an ordeal. You are not the only person who must deal with it now. You're not alone.

And then, as you consider telling him that if everyone is dealing with this, then surely they're handling it better than you, he tells you something that causes you to freeze.

"If you need to leave, you can."

"Of course," Rusl continues, "if you want to stay, we'll support you. You don't have to pretend everything is normal. And even if you go, it's not like you'll be banished. You can always come back here, even if you can't stay."

And so you speak the words you've thought every time someone suggests leaving here, or suggests that you won't stay. "Do I have to go? Is...does everyone just want me gone?"

Rusl shakes his head. "Of course not. We all love and care about you like we always have, hero or not."

Then...why do I feel like...this around everyone? you think.

"The question is...it's not whether anyone wants to you go or thinks you should go." Then, Rusl places a hand on your shoulder, face deeply serious as his eyes lock onto yours.

"The question is: Do you want to go? Do you need to go?"

For a moment...you're speechless. You know what you want, you think. You've wanted to return home all along, haven't you? That's...all You've been trying to do since you defeated Ganondorf, lost bid Midna farewell, shed the garb of the hero and returned the master sword to its grove. But...what do you need?

"I don't...I don't know what I need," is all you say.

"...Well," Rusl says, after a moment of contemplation. "I can't tell you what you want any more than I can accurately guess what you need. And I can't make your decision for you."

"...Right." So that's it then. Either you go, admit that there's no fixing you, no point trying to fit a misshapen puzzle piece in an old hole, or you stay, keep trying to move on and get things as close to normal as you can as you have been for weeks.

"Hey," Rusl says after a moment. "Hey, listen to me for a second."

You raise your head, shift your eyes from where you'd cast them at your sandals.

"You'll be okay, Link. You've been through a lot, and it's changed you—like it's changed all of us. But, you have your whole life ahead of you, and I suspect you have more choices than you even believe."

"...Yeah."

"I may not be able to tell you what you need, but I can tell you to follow your heart. If you listen to it, it'll lead you where you need to go."

"My heart?" You sound a bit skeptical.

"I mean...isn't it your heart that got you here? You didn't undertake the journey and save your loved ones by being weak of heart did you?"

And that...that's true. With everything that was at stake (especially that which you cared about most), it was your heart that wouldn't allow you to back down, wasn't it?

In the end, you nod.

Rusl smiles. "Then why ignore it now?"

"Why ignore it now?"

The rest of what Rusl has to say goes unsaid, but...you think you get it anyways.

"Why ignore it now? Has it ever lead you astray?"

"...Thanks, Rusl," you say, finally. You don't tell him that you feel a bit better now, but his smile grows regardless.

"It's no problem, Link. Anytime you need."

And so the sunset passes into night passes into morning, and there's a weight on you when you wake up. You know, somehow, in this moment, that a decision has to be made, a potential path chosen. There's no ignoring it.

And you find her—Ilia—in the spring.

"You're...leaving, aren't you."

"I..." You haven't even put on any gear, nor unearthed that special tunic tucked in your basement, nor have you saddled Epona up yet. When you woke up, you still didn't know what it is you need.

"...I am," you say finally.

There's a moment of silence.

"I...some part of me knew you would." Then, she adds, "One day."

"...Why?"

She shakes her head. "I can't explain it. You just...you haven't seemed...quite right lately."

I haven't?

You thought you must've seemed at least fairly normal, must have with all the effort you put in.

"You're... You weren’t..." Ilia hesitates for a moment, as if afraid to say the words at the edge of her tongue. But then, she sighs.

"You don't seem happy here."

"I-I've...I've tried to–"

"I know," she says, cutting you off. "I know. I have..."

You wait for her to finish her thought, but she never does.

"Hey, Link, before...before you go... Come back to this spring. I'll wash Epona for you."

There's a bit of strain in the smile Ilia gives you, but you nod, smiling back.

It's...it's not easy to leave. It never is, and it never gets easier, no matter how many times you have to do it. And so, as you gather some final supplies, thank Rusl for his advice, and put on your gear (finally unearth the tunic you'd hidden away), you remind yourself that this isn't truly goodbye. You're just...going on a little trip, chasing your heart. You'll visit sometimes, right? It's just a little trip.

And eventually, geared up, you make your way to the spring. As expected, Ilia is there, grooming Epona when you arrive.

Out of everyone, you feel Ilia has been both the easiest and the hardest to read. Ever since everyone returned to Ordon, it made sense the way she stuck right back to the comforts of home and her old routine. She's...not all okay, but it's seemed to make her happy. And yet...there's something else about her. There's a bit of weirdness there you can't parse out, and there's something in the way she speaks that always feels like there's something going unsaid. You feel it more than ever as she turns to face you in the spring, seems hesitant about giving Epona over, even as she says that Epona is washed and ready.

Although, then again, there's something nostalgic about this moment. As you mount up Epona and Ilia asks you to take care of her, and not to take on more than you can handle.

You know the moment is here. You can feel it. It's time to go.

And yet, there's one last thing holding you back. You look down at Ilia as she begins to speak again.

"...Link, I–"

"Hm?"

Silence.

"I...never mind." Ilia waves you off, mustering up a smile. "You should... You should go. Don't let me hold you back."

You nod in response. Her expression is a bit bittersweet, although perhaps the smile you return her is just the same.

And so you take off with Epona, galloping across the bridge between Ordon and Faron. You leave her standing outside the spring, and you make a beeline for Hyrule Field, craving to feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your face.

Your wants, your desires...those deep down ones may be impossible. But it's something. Traveling, following where your heart leads, it feels familiar. It feels...right.

And once your journey begins, you think it's almost laughable that you thought that you could just go back home after all that you'd seen and experienced and...lost. At least now, though your future is uncertain, though you still can't quite feel safe, though you still can't banish the nightmares, at least you no longer feel...stifled.

At least you can be free now.