#if I decided to write him as fighting the Empire rather than succumbing to it the story would still end the same

[brassandblue]

Having a lot of Thoughts about Arthur’s retirement from the Royal Navy not too long (roughly 10-15 years) after the conclusion of the Napoleonic Wars and how his personality/mental and emotional health did a sharp decline over the next 50 years. Like, imagine, it’s the 1820s, and you feel that politics are beginning to really hamper the thing you’ve put your heart and soul into supporting for the last 100+ years. You start to become disillusioned, recalling how one of your greatest maritime heroes had to fight the Admiralty for appropriate pay for his men and himself; you call how you’ve had to do much the same. 

It occurs to him that he has to really consider his future now, if it isn’t already too late-- he is a distinguished member of society at last, an Admiral, a Duke, and the facade of the elite is one he finally wears naturally after decades of crafting. What good can he do, out there at sea? He feels he needs to be at home, or at least out surveying the colonies, protecting Britain’s (his) interests. He’s had his royals, his government, the Admiralty, echoing the constant refrain of what is expected, what is needed of him. And what is needed is more. More money, more land, more power, more class, more knowledge, more charm, more charisma, more and more, more, more--

He thinks he’s up to the task of becoming That without losing himself and he sold his soul, debased his own principles in the attempt. In abandoning the Navy, despite it being an institution in and of itself, he cast away the virtues that he’d held while in it: Loyalty, consistency, discipline, frugality, moderation, commonality. He dove headlong into trying to meet impossible expectations and decided it was better to turn a blind eye, to enable the subjugation of others, and to profit off blood, than to be considered a failure.

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[certifiedskywalker]

Don’t Imagine Ben Solo - Revisited

In honor of TROS and Ben Solo, I decided to visit the first piece of writing that went big on my blog. You can click HERE to read the original piece I did.

This piece follows from the start of The Last Jedi to the end of The Rise of Skywalker ((TROS spoilers are under the cut))

Don’t imagine the hope in Ben Solo’s heart when he sees Rey through the Force.

Don’t imagine how to him, Rey reminds him of the family he left behind; the family that Kylo Ren kept him from.

Don’t imagine how, every night, Ben Solo is plagued by the ghosts of those he hurt. 

Don’t imagine the screams, the cries, the faces of those he couldn’t save; those that Kylo Ren killed in his search for some inner peace in the darkness.

Don’t imagine the conflict that bubbles up in Ben’s chest some nights when he fights sleep. Conflict is all he knows, aside from the voices in his head. 

Don’t imagine how he hears a voice that sounds familiar.

Don’t imagine how Ben struggles to place it. It’s not his father, not his mother, or his uncle; although it almost sounds like Luke’s. 

Don’t imagine how Ben Solo sees Anakin Skywalker but does not know who the man is. He does not recognize the true face of his grandfather.

Don’t imagine Anakin reaching out to Ben, telling him to take his hand and come back to the Light with him.

Don’t imagine that Ben’s heart, still in the hands of the Darkness, is Kylo Ren’s heart too.

Don’t imagine how Kylo, how Ben, sees Anakin and thinks about Rey. Maybe, if he gives her his hand, he won’t be alone in the Darkness.

Don’t imagine, don’t you dare think about how lonely Ben Solo is trapped in Kylo Ren’s mask. 

Don’t imagine the hope that grips Ben like a vice as he slays Supreme Leader Snoke. Maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late for him after all.

Don’t imagine the twinge of guilt Ben feels as Kylo Ren’s thirst for power overwhelms the goodness in his soul.

Don’t imagine, try not to see the similarities extended hand as Kylo Ren reaches out to Rey; little does Kylo Ren know, but he is sealing Ben’s fate.

Don’t imagine that the “please” that escapes his lips comes from some lost part of Ben Solo yearning to no longer be alone.

Don’t imagine the fear, the anger that devours him when Rey refuses.

Don’t imagine how that anger melds Kylo Ren and Ben Solo together to the point where the Fallen Jedi doesn’t know where his good heart begins and the Darkness ends.

Don’t imagine how lost Ben Solo feels, how, for a moment, when he sees his Uncle’s face, he succumbs to the Darkness. 

Don’t imagine how Ben Solo goes quiet during the duel with his former Master. 

Don’t imagine how everything he told himself, the hope of seeing his family again, how it died as his body fought against his Uncle.

Don’t imagine the strange sort of relief that floods through him when Luke’s Force projection fades away.

Don’t imagine the moments later when he feels his Uncle’s life Force dwindle.

Don’t imagine the panic in his chest at the thought of seeing his mother.

Don’t imagine the regret, pain, and anger twisting in his gut as the Millennium Falcon flies off to safety. He doesn’t know if he wants to go with them or shot out of the sky; he does know, but he won’t ever admit it.

Don’t imagine how he waits, after the battle of Crait, for any sign of the Resistance; Ben Solo couldn’t live without them. He thinks it’s the fight against them that keeps him alive.

Don’t imagine the day Ben hears that Palpatine’s voice in his head, ringing loud and true; the day he hears that the Sith is still alive.

Don’t imagine how Ben Solo screams to stop himself, to stop Kylo Ren from trying to find him. Ben Solo remembers what his mother had told him about the leader of the Empire; he remembers what his Uncle had told him about Darth Vader’s Master.

Don’t imagine how desperate Ben Solo is to not feel alone.

Don’t imagine how he fights and kills just to find a way to the Dark Lord of the Sith. He had a plan to get Rey on his side, to never feel alone again, but he needs to dive headfirst into the Dark to do it.

Don’t imagine the resounding loneliness that he created for himself, how it starts to eat him alive the more he pushes away. 

Don’t imagine how quickly he takes the deal Palpatine offers him. He only takes it in the hopes of showing the galaxy that he is not as evil as he seems; or as evil as he believes himself to be.

Don’t imagine how the truth of Rey’s lineage gives him hope. Because how can something so good come out of something so bad?

Don’t imagine how, each time he sees Rey through the Force, a piece of Kylo Ren is chipped away because the girl he has spent his time chasing knows just how to wear him down. He knows that it is because his mother is training her.

Don’t imagine how Ben can almost feel the Light on his skin again.

Don’t imagine how his heart aches when Rey denies his hand once more. 

Don’t imagine how he feels more and more alone with each passing hour.

Don’t imagine how hard Ben Solo tries to break free only to be pushed back by the threat of something darker, more sinister than anything before.

Don’t imagine all of the old ghosts he feels reaching out for Ben as he walks along the ruins of the Death Star.

Don’t imagine how he recalls his dream and that man, with the familiar voice, reaching out to him. Maybe Ben knew him somehow from his Uncle’s stories.

Don’t imagine how, with each strike of her saber, Rey chipped away at Kylo Ren’s armor, at his mask, leaving Ben’s soul exposed.

Don’t imagine how in the moment when Kylo was about to end it all, killing Rey and the last bit of hope, Ben opened himself up to the Force long enough for an attack.

Don’t imagine how the blow that came was not the attack he was expecting.

Don’t imagine how Ben felt Leia’s hand against his cheek as she gave herself to the Force; she simply wanted to see him again.

Don’t imagine how Ben barely felt Kylo Ren’s lightsaber plunge into his gut because the pain in his heart was so, far greater than anything else. 

Don’t imagine the feeling of safety he felt as Rey gave him a part of her life Force; the first act of kindness he had felt in years.

Don’t imagine how when Rey told him that she wanted to take Ben’s hand, how he realized that pushing away his family and falling into fear rather than destiny was his biggest mistake. 

Don’t imagine that, as Ben watches Rey fly off, he feels more lost than ever. The only thing he knows in that moment is that he wants to see his mother but he can’t.

Don’t imagine that Ben wishes so hard to see her that he ends up conjuring up another past ghost: his father.

Don’t imagine how the conflict within his chest boils over the moment he looks into the eyes of his father; it is like he is suddenly back on the bridge inside Starkiller. 

Don’t imagine how Ben wants to tell Han that he loves him; but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is “Dad”. 

Don’t imagine how Han understands and how, after years, he finally can see his son, his Ben Solo standing strong before him. 

Don’t imagine how, as he throws his red saber into the sea, Ben Solo washes his mind free from the clutches of Kylo Ren and the Darkness that followed him.

Don’t imagine how easily Ben climbs the ruins of the Death Star with a renewed sense of strength. The piece of life Force Rey had given him and reinforced the Light’s claim to his body and soul; rebuilt himself for good. 

Don’t imagine how as he flies off to Exogol, he feels a sense of warmth wrap around him and two blue, celestial hands moving to guide his way to the Sith homeworld.

Don’t imagine the whisper Ben Solo heard as he flew towards his destiny, towards his fate: “You will bring a balance to the Force. You will finish what I started.”

Don’t imagine Ben listening to the voice of Anakin Skywalker and knowing that he was hearing his grandfather. 

Don’t imagine how quickly Ben ran to Rey with the Force and his ancestors at his back. There was something more to fight for now.

Don’t imagine how, with every blaster bolt fired and slashing strike, Ben Solo became more and more attuned with the Force and Jedi of the past. 

Don’t imagine how Ben fights Palpatine’s draining of his life Force; he fights it for Rey, for those fighting in the skies above.

Don’t imagine how when Palpatine calls him the last Skywalker, Ben feels a twinge of pride before being hurled down under the planet’s surface. He was as his Uncle and mother were before him; a Skywalker and strong.

Don’t imagine how the voices of Jedi past call out to him as he falls, how they tell him to reach out and climb. The last Skywalker must rise.

Don’t imagine the harrowing climb up.

Don’t imagine the ache in Ben’s chest when he sees the Sith throne destroyed and Rey’s limb body before it.

Don’t imagine how Anakin’s words echoed in Ben’s head: “You will finish what I started.”

Don’t imagine how Ben knows what that means now, what the truly means. Ben knows that his family story must end, but it can not end with him; it needed to be better this time.

Don’t imagine how Ben takes Rey into his arms like a gentle thing.

Don’t imagine how tight he hugs her; the first hug he had given in years.

Don’t imagine that the last time Ben hugged someone, it was his mother the day he left with his Uncle. 

Don’t imagine how that memory brings tears to his eyes.

Don’t imagine how, without needing to hear the ghosts of Jedi past, Ben knows what he must do.

Don’t imagine Ben Solo giving back that life Force Rey gave him.

Don’t imagine the relief Ben felt when Rey opened her eyes and gasped.

Don’t imagine the guilt on Ben’s shoulders as he looked into Rey’s eyes. He had killed ruthlessly for so long, ignored the life he could have had.

Don’t imagine how Rey kissed him.

Don’t imagine how that kiss reminded him of all his missed chances and worst mistakes.

Don’t imagine the bittersweet smile that spread along his lips.

Don’t imagine the sense of peace that fell over Ben Solo in his last moments.

Don’t imagine that the voices in his head finally quieted and that the last bits of Darkness fled from his soul.

Don’t imagine Ben falling back into the light to rise with the Force for the last time.

Don’t imagine how things could have turned out differently.

Don’t imagine, don’t think about the life Ben Solo could have lived if things had unfolded in any other way.

Don’t imagine it, for Ben Solo is at peace. And that is enough.

[natsubeatsrock]

The Rewrite of Fairy Tail: Bonus (What If? #8)

What if Natsu and Lucy fought each other with magic?

I can't tell why this is something I haven't seen much speculation on. I've seen tons of people talk about Natsu turning evil and being saved by Lucy. I've seen tons of stories where Lucy ends up fighting Natsu, usually after kicking her off the Strongest Team. 

But not too many people talk about the serious prospect of Natsu and Lucy fighting in the context of canon. I don't know that this is something I've seen anyone seriously consider. So, in honor of Nalu week, I decided to think through how that would work. (Never ask me to do anything like this ever again.)

This scenario could be based on a specific scenario that I'm not entirely sure is likely for me to consider. During the last arc, Natsu succumbs to E.N.D's control and fights Gray. I could imagine someone reworking the scenario to have Natsu and Lucy fight. However, that's too big a stretch for me to consider for a very specific payoff - having an all-out fight between the two main characters of the series. While I like that idea, I don't know if I could or should make that gel.

Of course, that isn't to say there's no reason to think a fight between Natsu and Lucy is only to be a fun idea for fans. There's a moment in the Avatar arc where both Natsu and Lucy are willing to fight with each other. Of course, this goes nowhere and we don't get a fight between these two. 

But what if they did?

If I wanted to write this, I'd personally place their fight at the end of the Alvarez Empire arc as an epilogue. There's not much of a change to their powers before and after that arc, aside from Natsu's trump card (which I don't know how to handle in the rewrite proper). It's just easier to have that battle without that issue from over their heads and all their cards on the table for readers to see (and writers to abuse).

Now, it would likely be a less serious fight than anything from that arc, but that's not a bad thing. After all, Natsu and Erza's fight near the beginning of the series was similar to this and was able to draw the attention of the entire guild, with Makarov officiating it. Natsu's even said that he prefers to these kinds of fights than actual life or death battles.

This is an interesting idea for reasons that should be obvious. This is, or at least should be a rather interesting idea. It's not like this is a Death Battle headline fight. But I can't think of too many times when characters argued to be the main characters fought on purely friendly terms. Either they don't fight, one of them becomes a bad guy or mind control is a factor in their fight.

This isn't to say these ideas don't have merit. Mashima's even used some of these ideas himself.  However, fans fight over how fights between characters would go for a reason. We want to know what it would be like if Jellal fought Laxus or Erza at full strength in earnest. (I originally wrote this before Laxus and Erza fought in the sequel.) For the most part, we don't expect characters in Fairy Tail to die, so we don't have that as a serious concern.

Now, a serious concern some may have is the actual prospects of a Natsu vs Lucy fight. For many, this is an easy win for Natsu. He's the one who has more practical combat magic and experience. A lot of Lucy's fights are ended by Natsu. Many of the ones that don't have him in the conclusion end via some form of outside shenanigans either helping her (Urano Metria in Nirvana) or hurting her(most Grand Magic Games fights).

Allow me to do go off brand for a minute and talk about some of Lucy's advantages in this fight against Natsu.

The biggest advantage is the mental aspect of the battle. Even as I think Natsu's incompetence is exaggerated by fans, I can't say that he's at the same level as Lucy in this aspect. This is especially important considering she might be one of the few people that are close enough to Natsu to find a weakness that can be exploited in a fair fight. Of course, this is a fun twist on that complaint of Lucy being sidelined in fights she and Natsu are in. In a few of those fights, she comes up with important strategies that come at decisive moments, in their fights.

So the fight I'm setting up is a classic brains versus brawns scenario. Can Lucy out strategize Natsu or will he power though with his superior combat skills? That's something worth playing out. I wouldn't give my answer the winner of this here, even as I have an obvious favorite for this. Though I can even imagine a few ways this would play out, as opposed to some other fights in this series.

The reason this is only a hypothetical scenario is that it would feel disconnected from the actual end. I'm willing to spin a scenario where Lucy and Natsu decide to fight each other for fun. But, no matter how hard I try, it's hard to connect it reasonably to the end of the series where I'd put it. It's especially difficult considering a few of the ideas I have for rewriting a new ending. And, if I want a sick fight scenario, this is the only time to put their fight in.

One of the fun things in thinking through the dynamic between Natsu and Lucy is seeing the kinds of amazing things that happen in the series because they are together. I've said this before but the series only happens because we have both of them. For all the issues I have with how they're written, I love to see how they interact with each other.

Based on Part 2

What If? #1 | What If? #2 | What If? #3 | What If? #4 | What If? #5 | What If? #6 | What If? #7

[lurafita]

King!Steve/Healer!Peter

Born from this prompt: Remember to link prompt!

There might be some grammar mistakes and typos in this, because I’m uploading this without reading it five additional times (as is my usual M.O.). But I’m a bit pressed for time right now, and if I don’t upload this now, it will probably take me a few days to do it. I hope it’s not too bad, but please point out any mistakes I have made, so that I will have an easier time to correct them later on.

FANTASY AU

I'm taking some liberties with the way the characters talk here. Usually, when you have an environment with Kingdoms and knights and the like, you expect the story to have a certain... etiquette? Or, well, a certain kind of speech. Now, writing in a foreign language is already a challenge at times, but adding a kind of formal speech that is only seen in history books and period pieces, is simply too difficult for me to even attempt. So, since I'm not writing a historic period story, but rather a fantasy one with magic and the like, I think it's okay for me to have to characters speak in a more modern way (with words like 'fuck' and 'cool' and such), even though the plot doesn't play in a modern environment.

Spideyshield; King!Steve/Healer!Peter 

The grand palace doors sprung open with an echoing bang, as first knight and commander of the Kingdom's army, Sir James Barnes, dragged his heavily  bleeding friend and King, his majesty Steve Rogers, into the entrance hall.

Two of the guards rushed forward to assist, but he paid them no mind.

“PETER!” He cast his gaze to one of the servants who was watching the scene with wide, shocked eyes. “You! Alarm the royal healer! Get Peter to the west wing immediately!”

The servant ran off to do as the knight had ordered, while the other guards helped Sir James to carry their King to the castle's healing chambers. The blond King, almost unconscious by this point (in no small part due to the head wound he had suffered), tried directing his head to look at James.

“Nooo... dn't tell Pete... he g'nna be cross wit me...”

James adjusted his hold on the slightly bigger man, which elicited a groan from the King.

“You can bet your fucking ass he is gonna be cross with you! I'M fucking cross with you! Of all the stupid, crazy shit you could have possibly pulled out of your royal ass, you go and do this!”

The guards and servants surrounding them weren't even shocked to hear Sir James speak to their King like this. The commander of the knights was one of the few who could afford such a disrespectful tone with their ruler.

The King tried to respond to his friend, but his speech was slurred so much, that the words were completely unintelligible. Thankfully they had reached the healing chambers at this point, and carefully lifted the man onto one of the beds. Just in time, it seemed, as running footsteps could be heard, preceding the royal healer who burst into the room.

The panicked light brown eyes landed on the first knight immediately.

“James! Where is-” then the younger man spotted their wounded King on the bed. “Steve!”

He rushed forward, the white robes of his profession fluttering, dainty looking hands already emitting the warm glow of healing magic.

Since the King had finally succumbed to to unconsciousness, Peter directed his question to James.

“What happened?”

Seeing the brunette's healing touch at work was always a bit of a marvel to the knight, so it took a second for him to shake off his awe and answer.

“One of my men had overheard what he believed was a gathering of slave traders in one of the empire's bars. And you know how Steve is about slavery. He insisted on investigating things himself. Only took me along because I threatened to kick his kingly ass if he didn't.”

The guards that had helped Sir James carry the King, took up a post outside the room, while two servants carried different supplies for the healer's use, as well as new clothes for the King.

“We found their lair, but as we were about to leave to come back with armed troops, one of the slavers pulled one of the children forward. They were about to...” He averted his gaze, the act too heinous for him to voice. By the look on Peter's face, he got it anyway. James cleared his throat. “I told Steve to go and bring reinforcements back with him, but stubborn fool that he is, he charged. Idiot took a blow to the head while warning me about an attack from my blind side.”

The knight shook his head ruefully as he watched the still form of his friend on the bed with fondness and guilt. Before he could spiral into self loathing, Peter's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“You know he wouldn't want you to blame yourself for his injury. His decisions and actions are his own, as King, and as a man. Beating yourself up over it would belittle his sense of responsibility.”

James couldn't help but smile.

“How many times has he said those words to you, for you to be able to repeat them almost verbatim?”

The younger man grinned a little as well, and the magical shine around his hands diminished slowly.

“I have lost count. It is hard to argue with him.”

“Don't I know it.”

Confident that his magic had sealed the head wound, Peter let his hands hover over the rest of the King's masculine body, trying to see if there were any more injuries that needed his attention. When he found nothing of greater concern, he nodded to Steve's handmaid (an older gentleman who had waited patiently in a corner of the room), to start cleaning and changing their King. Then he turned to James.

“What about you? Here, sit down on this bed. Let me-”

The knight help up a hand.

“I'm fine, Pete. Just some bumps and scratches. Nothing worse than I get from the training session with the guards, or his royal dumbness over there. He good?”

Peter nodded.

“The injury looked more severe than it was, but head wounds always bleed a lot. He had a concussion, but my magic has taken care of that. He should sleep for a few hours, but then he will be good as new. What about the people you freed from the slavers?”

“I alerted one of the city guards we passed as I dragged Steve's ass back here, so they should be taken care of. The troops most likely took the people to the normal healers, and threw whoever had survived of the slavers to rot in the cells.”

And while compassion and kindness was as much a part of Peter's very core as his magical ability to heal, even he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the slavers. The brunette himself had been a slave, once, and witnessed first hand the cruelties of those that held people's life and freedom in their hands. He would forever be thankful for the fact that his former 'owners' hadn't done their research, when they decided to sell Peter to the newly crowned King of the Brooklyn lands. Steve had wasted no time with implementing a new law in his kingdom, one that outlawed slavery, by threat of execution. But Peter's captors hadn't known that, and they had paid for their ignorance with their lives.

King Rogers, Steve, had taken Peter and the other slaves in his group in, had made them free citizens of his kingdom, and made sure they had a home and a means to support themselves. The younger man, back then still in his last teenage years, had been so grateful, that he had revealed his healing magic to the King. The healing touch was rare, as unlike other magic, it couldn't be learned, no matter how skilled the wizard or witch who attempted it.

Steve had offered him the position of royal healer (offered. Not ordered, not demanded, not forced), and over the years, Peter's deep felt adoration for the man had grown into love.

“Maybe I should take a look still.” His voice was unsure as his eyes flickered to the bed where Steve, now cleaned of any blood and newly dressed, was resting. He felt conflicted. There might be people in the regular healers chamber that were hurt. Especially the children. Yet he didn't want to leave his King's side.

James seemingly knew what was going through the slighter man's head, as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to go down there and get the report from the guards anyway. If I see someone in need of your help, I will send for you.”

Peter brought his hand up to give the broader one on his shoulder a squeeze.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Only a handful of people were allowed to call Sir James by that nickname. Peter was proud to be one of them.

-

Steve woke to the familiar sight of the royal healing chambers (he wasn't the kind of King who could just sit on his throne and let others fight his battles, so he was very used to getting hurt), and the (just as familiar) sight of Peter having fallen asleep on a chair by his bedside. He sighed. Steve hated worrying the younger man like this, to the point where Peter fell asleep in what had to be a pretty uncomfortable position.

He quietly got out of bed, and tested his limbs. Just as usual, Peter's magic had taken care of all his aches and pains. He felt good as new. He kept his steps light and soft as he went around the bed to kneel before the sleeping healer, then carefully snaked his arms under Peter's knees and behind his shoulders and lifted him up.

Peter felt so delicate in his bigger, stronger arms. So much more lithe, when compared to the wide chest and shoulders of the blond King. It made Steve want to keep him there, cradled in the protection his muscular arms offered, shielded from everything that might harm him.

He thought about lowering Peter into the medical bed, so as not to risk waking him up (the younger man was always exhausted when he had used his powers on someone. He had said it was normal, that healing someone always took a lot of energy, as he was technically working against nature's course.)

But it felt wrong to not have the younger man close right now. Maybe it was because of the slavers they had found and fought. (Slavers. In his Kingdom. He hated the very thought of it.)

When one of the scumbags had dragged the small boy up front, and opened his trousers, he had felt so reminded of the day Peter had been brought into the Kingdom, presented to him like some plaything. Peter had been a slave, once. Had lived the life that the people he and Bucky had managed to free today had been threatened with. The memory of that fact nearly broke his heart.

So he adjusted his hold on his healer into a more secure grip, and still careful not to wake the younger man, made his way out of the room. The guards posted beside the door stood to attention as their King passed them, happy to see both their ruler and royal healer well. Steve passed a few more of his servants, guards, and even Bucky, on his way to his chambers, with his precious cargo held in his arms.

All of them had smiled and curtseyed at him, glad to see their King on his feet again, but aware to not voice their joy, as to not wake the sleeping healer. Bucky, of course, had given his friend a truly shit eating grin, while looking at Peter and wiggling his eyebrows. Naturally, Bucky knew all about Steve's feelings for their magical healer, and took great pleasure in needling Steve to make a move already.

And Steve had been thinking about doing just that more and more. His people already loved Peter, and would celebrate their union.

When he got to his room (the door having been opened for him by Phil, his handmaid, he stepped up to his big, lavishly decorated and soft bed, and oh so carefully lowered Peter down. He gently rearranged the younger man's limbs to get him under the covers, and then laid himself down beside him.

Night had already fallen, and it was dark out. While Steve didn't feel particularly tired after his healing sleep, he still didn't feel comfortable with leaving Peter's side, and relished in the chance of laying next to him.

He softly stroked two of his fingers along Peter's forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind the younger's ear. Peter was beautiful. His skin light and soft, slim but perfectly curved lips, little dimples that could be seen even in sleep. But he was also so much more than just a pretty face. Peter was warm, and giving, and kind, and funny. Loyal and  trusting and just too lovely for this world. How could Steve not have fallen for him?

Then Peter moved, and for a moment, Steve thought his heart was about to stop, as the brunette scooted closer, tucking his smaller body right into the King's embrace. Still deeply asleep, Peter's subconscious had likely been attracted to the source of warmth from another human body. Not that Steve minded.

He wound his arms around the healers body, pressing him a little more into his own, and thought he felt a soft sigh against his collar bone.

Then and there, while slowly being lulled to sleep by feeling the other's heartbeat against his own chest, Steve decided that he would start courting Peter officially the very next day. But right now, he would let himself bask in the scent and warmth and feeling of having his love in his arms.

The End.

[loyalflutist]

Fifth Time Around (Prequel) (f!Byleth x Edelgard)

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Words: 3,568 Summary:  The Divine Pulse is a powerful ability granted by Sothis to turn back the hands of time. However, with each cycle, Byleth is one step closer to being by Edelgard's side. Upon receiving her happy ending, what happens if Byleth decides to strive for the impossible with another Divine Pulse?

*This is a prequel to the upcoming Final Fantasy Type-0 x Fire Emblem: Three Houses crossover series. However, it can act as a standalone Edeleth OS.

A/N: This is more for my own guilty pleasure and making my own food since no one seems to be writing about this crossover. I decided that a prequel should be in place in order to set the mood and circumstances for the series. However, this OS can act as a standalone Edeleth fiction, so one can read it without any need to read the series. I had fun writing this! Kind of makes you wonder if there's ever going to be a revelation route for this... but at the same time, makes you not want it. Hope you enjoy it! I enjoyed writing it. 

Next Chapter: [to be edited]

----

It has been exactly five months since she had been a professor at Garreg Mach Monastery. It has been exactly one day since her departure from Garreg Mach Monastery. It has been exactly five hours since her encounter with the Knights of Seiros and Adrestian Empire’s troops. It has been exactly three hours since she lost Jeralt in the clash. It has been exactly one hour since she last saw Edelgard von Hresvelg.

A shudder ran down Byleth’s spine, the seated professor pressing the Sword of Creator close to her chest. Byleth, Sothis, and a few surviving members of Jeralt’s battalions currently hid out under a stony shelter, the thunders roaring ferociously in conjunction with the pouring rain late into the night. They were fatigued and sustained numerous injuries. (Were it not for the lone healer in their group, they would have all succumbed to their wounds by now.) Byleth wearily stared at the man-made fire as her remaining comrades slept against the wall; the shadows continuously danced amongst the rocky terrains of the ground with each flickering of the flames. Byleth struggled to stifle her yawn.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Byleth glanced at the nearby floating girl. Sothis, the all-powerful and all-knowing goddess, had features riddled with concern. When Byleth shook her head, Sothis loudly exhaled.

“It’s unfortunate that the war has begun much earlier than expected,” Sothis murmured with arms crossed, her gaze now elsewhere. “As expected of that child.”

“…Could I have been the cause of it all?”

“Perhaps.”

“…”

It crushed her. This fifth cycle amounted to nothing more than tremendous agony and unwarranted heartaches.

The first time, she sided with Dimitri because of his beliefs.

Byleth liked him. He was a young man for a brighter future. Dimitri was always so gentle with his comrades. He was always a people's person. The way he carried himself drew Byleth towards him. However, his true nature would leak out on occasion, his startling dark demeanors overwhelming the instructor. When Edelgard initiated the war, the Faerghus prince bellowed out as if he were a beast. His words coated with poison and burning lust to tear Edelgard’s head off her shoulders… Had it not been for Byleth’s presence, he would have spiraled into nothing more than a man seeking vengeance for everything that went wrong in his life.

“I grow weak when I face you…”

Edelgard’s final words struck something deep within her chest. It didn't help that Edelgard intentionally lowered her guard and held back on her strikes. That nearly caused Byleth to falter in her final attack as she, Dimitri, and the Blue Lions watched the vermillion lord fall. Surprising how a single sentence, a timid, almost quiet remark would be so powerful.

At that time, Byleth did not understand what Edelgard meant to say. Or rather, she chose not to understand what Edelgard meant to say.

The deadlocked war finally settled to a conclusion. Members from the Kingdom of Faerghus all cheered for their well-deserved victory. As for their professor, Byleth did not wish to continue her service under Dimitri’s ruling. It was time she earned her rest as well.

She proposed to Mercedes. It was her first love and the older female graciously accepted the proposal. They retired to the outskirts of the Kingdom of Faerghus. Mercedes would volunteer and run a charity organization for the orphanages throughout Fodlan. Byleth would tend to their farm and place food on the table. A simple life many yearned for. The two remained married until Mercedes died from old age.

As Byleth merged her soul with Sothis, her god-like longevity eventually outlasted all her comrades. The world moved forward and she is by herself. Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea would occasionally visit her, but not for long. They too would pass on from this world. And at that very moment, she found herself staring at the nameless, worn tombstone where Edelgard von Hresvelg laid to rest.

“…”

Byleth soon laid down next to the buried emperor. Could it be because she's lonely all these past decades that she decided to visit an old enemy? But why this enemy? Why this particular person and not someone like Claude? A melodic tune that's closely related to the little vermillion princess’s voice softly hummed in the air. It lulled the retired instructor into a deep slumber and encouraged her to be enveloped in the warmth of the song. If only Byleth could turn back time… If only she could ask Edelgard what she meant by those uttered last words…

Byleth closed her eyelids, sleeping by Mercedes and Edelgard, and never awakened.

Yet it appears the Divine Pulse worked in her favor. When she cracked opened her eyes, she found herself staring at Jeralt. Originally, Byleth expected to be finally sent up to the heavens. After prolonged periods of life on earth, the ex-mercenary yearned for nothing more than eternal slumber.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Turns out, Byleth’s physical appearance not only reverted back to its original state, but the female also stared in horror as the entire day began to slowly unfold itself in a predictable manner. Every interaction, every movement, every reaction… It was as if she turned back the hands of time!

“Did I surprise you?” Sothis later appeared. She bopped the mercenary on the forehead and smiled. “I’ve given you another chance to deal with those regrets.”

The Divine Pulse is a wonderful ability. Byleth was sure she would not waste this opportunity.

The second time, she sided with Claude because of his plans.

She respected him. Claude’s endeavors, track record, and perky attitude colored him in a brighter light compared to the Blue Lions’s House Leader. Yet his carefree personality hid a rather sly version of himself. The young man was not as foolish as he appears to be. Questions that were meant to be answered finally unveiled themselves that surrounds Those Who Slither in the Dark and the Church of Seiros. Byleth was also one step closer to figuring out Edelgard’s feelings and opinions towards the now-Golden Deer’s professor.

Unfortunately, Byleth found herself fighting not just against Edelgard again, but against Dimitri too. The three nations that once stood in the practice field for a friendly tournament five years ago now fight for survival and bloody victory. Weapons were tossed and exchanged. Blows landed and missed. The number of casualties steadily rising to unfathomable degrees. Byleth tearfully steeled herself when she faced members of the Blue Lions. Many of them mourned and expressed grief when she tore them apart, the tears running down her face as she impaled her Sword of Creator into Dimitri’s chest plate.

“Professor… why…?”

Those were the last words from the person that she ringed in her past life. Byleth wailed into the ironic sunny day with Mercedes in her arms. Endless tears spilled forth from the professor as the crimson gash that penetrated the holy maiden’s chest continued to flow with magma fluid. She had struck down students from the previous cycle with little hesitation due to a lack of familiarity. Yet when it came to the Blue Lions, she did so with a heavy heart. Byleth leaned forward and buried her face into the soiled woman’s shoulder, her weeping almost never-ending. It devastated her to murder the one that she once called her wife.

Claude had to pull her back to reality with a slap on the shoulder. The young man knew the heavy burden that rests on her shoulders as it did for everyone in the Leicester Alliance. However, it would be unfair if she were the only person left behind. Everyone had no choice but to recover. With that in mind, Byleth eventually recuperated and regained her strength to move onward.

“I wanted to walk by your side…”

Those words were different from when she was with Dimitri, but those words still haunted her. The two had finally faced one-on-one with each other and Byleth was the clear victor. But Edelgard had begged for her to be slain by Byleth. If anything, she wants Byleth to be the only person to kill her, and so she delivered.

Blood slowly trickled from the Sword of Creator’s tip as the professor stared at the fallen emperor. Then, Byleth grit her teeth.

Why did Edelgard have to say this? She still couldn’t understand what she had meant by those words. If Edelgard wanted to walk by her side, why can’t Edelgard just drop everything and join her and Claude’s vision for a better future? Or is Byleth simply deluding herself again and wished to look away from the damages she had done?

“…”

After the war had ended, Byleth found herself married to Claude, though this was more of a political move in order to maintain peace and balance between Fodlan and Almyra. They’ve never had any children and simply passed the royal title of Almyra to the next heir. For Byleth, she continued to act as an important figurehead for Fodlan well after the natural death of Claude and her comrades.

She eventually finds herself looking at the same nameless tombstone again. Here lies the young girl who wishes to be by her side and someone she had to kill once again. Byleth brushed her fingertips on the stony exterior as her eyelids closed once more. This lifetime came to a standstill with the passing of the Enlightened One from Fodlan, her funeral held for countless days.

Yet once more, Sothis turned back the hands of time. "You still have your regrets, don't you?"

The third time, she sided with Rhea because of circumstances.

This was more so out of anger and frustration from Byleth. The instructor, usually so composed and collected, flew into a fury when she realized the dangers Edelgard had posed against the Church of Seiros. Having to choose between the two women, Byleth bore the blunt end of the former Black Eagle’s House Leader attack, her arms shielding the holy maiden from further harm. Disappointment and sadness colored the white-haired’s features. She looked away, retracted her axe, and bit the bottom of her lip. Dorothea had come up to cast a healing spell on the professor as Byleth trucked through the pain.

Byleth taught the Black Eagles and she finally spent time with Edelgard. Why would Edelgard do this?! She stepped forward and sternly demanded answers from Edelgard. Couldn’t there have been another way to resolve the growing tension between the church and her?

The recently-ascended emperor chose to say nothing. Instead, Hubert and Edelgard forcefully retreated from the premise via teleportation, their silence the only answer provided at the time. That was the last she had seen the pair. After all, it wasn’t long until the neon-haired woman fell into another five-year coma once again.

Deep in her unconscious thoughts, Byleth frequently repeated the same question over and over: Why did she protect Rhea, but not Edelgard? Byleth would not be able to get an answer out of herself any time soon… and she would never as she found herself repeating the same course of action as the second time around.

“I wish we could be something more…”

They were out of breath, lacerations of varying depths scattered among their exposed skin, and their gaze ever so penetrating. Edelgard could barely raise her head, her hands using the Levin Sword as support for her weakened figure. Byleth’s relic trembled when she raised the weapon high above her head. Though she was grateful not to have met with Claude nor Mercedes in this route, the pent-up emotions that swirled and muddled together exploded in a single outcry, the blade flying down with startling power.

When the serrated edges came to contact with the emperor’s head, a sorrowful smile crawled on the lord’s lips. The instant Edelgard collapsed, so did Byleth, the tears dripping onto the dirtied pavement. That obliterated the dam that Byleth desperately tried patching up. She clawed at the ground and pounded the rough terrain until her fists were bruised and bloodied.

Why…?

Why?

Why?!

WHY?!

JUST WHY?!

WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE AGAIN?!

“EL!!!”

Had it not been for Dorothea, she would have committed suicide on the spot, the opera singer pulling her back to reality. If anything, Byleth finally realized why Edelgard had uttered those tragic last words, and she regrets learning about it. New regrets had bloomed in place of old ones.

Byleth’s internal struggle continued to grow and it became even worse for her psyche. The truth of Byleth’s birth and her origin nearly spiraled her sanity out of control. Once again, had it not been for Dorothea, Byleth would have offed herself. It was almost laughable that every single cycle she went through, she was subjecting herself to a new form of torture. New knowledge meant new forms of pain. Just how much more can she take?

After the war and slain of the Immaculate One, the professor desperately married Dorothea, their love burning for lust and relief from the war with their severe PTSD. Their relationship had become parasitic in hopes of tending to each other’s scars and unhealed wounds. It took another five years for them to stabilize their attitudes and, finally, fell in love beyond physical euphoria.

“…”

Unlike the previous times, to which she lived for hundreds to thousands of years, the neon-haired woman laid in her sickbed. Not even 20 years ticked by and Dorothea is forced to watch her passionate wife succumb to a mysterious illness. Delirious fevers plagued the few unlucky ones in the remote village from the Adrestian Empire and Byleth had caught it. No treatments were available to cure her of the disease. She was bound to die in a sickly manner. Dorothea stayed by her side up until the time of her passing, her songs lulling the weak warrior into another slumber.

“Fourth’s time the charm, Byleth. Don’t mess this up.”

Sothis was right. The fourth’s time the charm. Byleth’s fingertips dug into the palms of her hands as she greeted Jeralt once more upon reawakening.

The fourth time, she sided with Edelgard because of love.

Finally… finally! It was the cycle that Byleth had dreamed of achieving and ridding of the original regrets that gnawed at her when she was with Dimitri. She stuck by Edelgard’s side like glue from beginning to end since the first time they’ve met. When it came to choosing between the two women again, the professor did not hesitate to choose the young house leader. Edelgard was colored with shock, but Byleth wasn’t. Instead, she immediately greeted the student with plenty of support for her endeavors. Of course, this infuriated Rhea, driving her into the corner and lashing out at the two in future events.

The battles were harsh and Byleth struggled to kill those that had once been her students. Dimitri’s battle cries and lamentations drained her of energy alongside Mercedes inevitable death and Claude’s banishment replayed in her head over and over again. At least Edelgard had always remained by her side during those difficult moments. The young vermillion emperor would hug Byleth as the instructor crumpled into a messy heap. Soothing messages empowered the ex-mercenary for one more day. It was for their future and Byleth fought hard for their future. They were going to make it. This was especially prominent when they fought the Immaculate One and defeated her.

When Byleth died, Sothis departed from her body and provided enough life force to revive the originally-still born woman. Byleth was immediately greeted with a kiss from Edelgard once she had awakened from the temporary loss, the professor’s eyes glistened with a range of emotions. It turns out that she has finally found her happily ever after.

“I’ve originally thought that I would walk on this road on my own, but then you came into my life.” Edelgard extended her hand outward. She took her professor’s hand and brightened her features. “Now, we can walk together. I love you… Byleth.”

Their marriage came to fruition after they wiped off Those Who Slither in the Dark and war criminals with some help from their comrades. Progenitor God no more, both females had adopted a daughter child, and peacefully died in each other’s embrace from old age.

Warmth had embraced them into the heavens. Their hearts were always connected with one another and they would always be together.

Yet there was a tug. Byleth felt torn apart from the comfort of her third wife and spiraled into the darkness once again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Byleth nodded, her navy hues weary from the anguish she bore through. No amount of weight in the world would be able to appropriately describe the impact the four previous cycles would have on Byleth. It was all to achieve the ending she desired with Edelgard von Hresvelg.

But what about those that she had loved previously?

What about Mercedes, her first wife? The one she first fell in love?

Or what about Claude, her first husband? The one she and he worked so hard to maintain peace and a steady relationship between Almyra and Fodlan?

How about Dorothea, her second wife? The Dorothea from the time she sided with Rhea was distraught from an early loss of her lover?

Then, there are her old comrades. The students that she had taught, the allies she had made, the friends she had met in all four factions… Isn’t it possible for everyone to achieve their happily ever after? Is it possible to save them all from their impending doom?

“I can’t promise you that it will end well. Are you willing to give up your current happiness and peace for a near-impossible fate?” Sothis grimaced when the young woman agreed to one last cycle. The female reached out to touch Byleth’s chest. She lowered her head and muttered, “This is going to be a cycle that will change everything.”

And so, it did change.

Thunder continued to boom in the background. Byleth was startled awake from her nap, her head raised. She rubbed one bagged eye and managed to hold back a profound yawn. Just as she had awakened, so did Sothis. The green-haired readjusted her posture mid-air and stared at her host.

“Is this all a mistake?” The hoarse voice that crackled out of Byleth was out of character. Tonality that would’ve brimmed with confidence and brevity was reduced to uncertainty and anxiety. When Sothis remained silent, she added, “I’ve thought removing myself from the monastery would’ve worked. I thought… I thought I could come back and encourage everyone to openly communicate their problems.”

The mercenary felt her foot twitch as she shifted the weight of her arm onto the relic. “I’m a fool. Even dad died.” Byleth unconsciously smirked. “What’s to say about my other students? They ended up fighting each other in the end, blind to the very end.”

Gruesome blood splattered the field, every flick of a weapon having produced the grimy substance onto the greeneries. Returning in hopes of achieving an almost impossible reality did become impossible. The dream of a happier and more gleeful ending is nothing more than a fleeting wish. Persistence may be the key to success as Sothis was more than available to use the Divine Pulse a number of times for her host. Byleth is free to abuse the power with the guidance of the goddess. Yet the previous four cycles had done a number on the woman.

Sothis recalled the worrisome nature of Byleth when they began the new academic term. She had naturally chosen the Black Eagles House in order to revitalize and restart her relationship with Edelgard. Unfortunately, past red strings of fate wind around her pinkie with three other students, causing the professor to relapse into a potential romantic relationship with Mercedes, Claude, and Dorothea. It was not surprising to see Edelgard, Mercedes, Claude, and Dorothea’s relationship with Byleth become estranged thanks to past commitments.

There were also the nightmares that had plagued the instructor. Post-traumatic stress disorder had gotten severe enough to strangle Byleth into submission almost every night. She would desperately cling to her pillow and violently shiver underneath her blanket. Incoherent mumbles blubber out of her mouth as if she were possessed by the ghost of her past. If it weren’t for Sothis soothing the ex-mercenary, the teal-haired would never be able to retain her sanity.

The goddess watched her host immediately jump to her feet. Sword of Creator readied, Byleth glanced out of the shelter and into the dark, wet field. Two of the five mercenaries stirred from their sleep. When they spotted their leader in an offensive posture, they scrambled and posed similarly to her. Byleth’s knuckles whitened as she dryly swallowed.

“I have no choice but to see this through.”

She raised the now-brightened ancient blade at the approaching enemies. When she took a step forward, an arrow suddenly slammed into her shoulder. The pain receptors delayed its delivery as the chilled rain numbed her body, Byleth reeling her unaffected dominant arm back. Those Who Slither in the Dark raised their weaponries and prepped their magical spells once Byleth and the two warriors ran in their direction.

Sothis face contorts to pure horror when their assaults were exchanged. “Child… You should’ve listened to me before we did this.” Then, she squeezed her eyes and glanced away.

[terryblount]

Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition – Review

The Tales of, or just Tales, series has always occupied something of a weird blind spot in the résumés of even the most hardened JRPG fans in the West, and I am no exception. Indeed, these games have faithfully preserved so many of the most recognisable motifs of this genre through release after release. Yet, somehow, they have slipped under my radar time and time again.

When the definitive edition for Tales of Vesperia was announced, it felt like fate reaching out its hand. While the game initially launched during the glory days of the Xbox 360 and the PS3, Namco Bandai has now made their 2008 classic fully compatible with current-gen platforms. They also sweetened the deal by adding extra goodies that were originally exclusive to the Japanese release.  Suddenly I could no longer ignore the signs that my moment had finally come to dive into this beloved series.

The world of Terca Lumireis is overrun with monsters, and each city is protected by a barrier generated from a blastia.

After spending what felt like a 59-hour holiday in the mystical world of Terca Lumireis, the adventures I had with Yuri and his band of misfits have left me with fond memories. There were certainly more than a few opportunities where I couldn’t help but sigh with frustration. However, a potent combination of confident storytelling, some unique mechanics and characters that I could actually care about made me question why it took so long for me to try out a Tales game.

Heads and Tales

Tales of Vesperia is truly a master class in how to retain a player’s focus on the main story line. Much like Dragon Quest XI, which I reviewed a couple of months ago, the plot in Tales of Vesperia is what acts as the key driving force behind the gameplay since everything seems to feed really naturally into the overall adventure. Completing every objective always felt like I was adding more pieces to the puzzle of a bigger picture.

This is Yuri, and there is an old guy at his local pub who keeps mistaking him for a girl…

Given that this game could easily take around fifty hours or so to complete, the story is understandably something of a slow burner, which could potentially be a hard sell to some players. Rest assured though, it is written very well, and several exciting twists turns in the narrative will undoubtedly feel more than rewarding to players that are willing to stick with the game’s more placid narrative pacing.

The actual plot is centered on Yuri Lowell – a dishonoured knight from the imperial legion in the capital of Zaphias. While lounging in his bedroom window like only an anime teenager can, his downtown neighbourhood was abruptly flooded with water. Seems some lowlife pinched the ‘aqua blastia’ which is a magical device needed to regulate and control the water supply to the slums. He wakes up his pipe-smoking dog, Repede, and the duo set off to where the culprit might be hiding.

Seriously, his dog smokes a pipe, and how this poor pooch somehow succumbed to a tobacco addiction still leaves me sleepless with questions at night. In any case, retrieving a magic stone from a petty thief should be a cakewalk for an ex-knight right? Wrong. What is any JRPG without some unwitting hero stumbling into a major calamity?

The Imperial City of Zaphias, and this is the ‘impoverished’ part of town. Anime’s can be so idealistic…

Somewhere during his efforts to capture the thief, poor Yuri ends up in the slammer. However, no prison can hold him, and it is during his escape that he meets a noblewoman, named Estelle, who shares his passion for running from the authorities (and bizarrely coloured hair). She urgently needs to find a mutual friend of Yuri’s named Flynn, who happens to be located in the same direction as the thief’s getaway. The duo, along with Repede, therefore decide to make an impromptu little road trip together into the wilderness beyond the city.

From here, the little fellowship travels from one location to the next only to find themselves constantly one step behind both Flynn and the blastia thief. It’s not all bad since every location reveals more to Yuri and Estelle about a deeply entrenched conspiracy surrounding both the stolen blastia, and the iron fist of the Zaphias Empire. Needless to say, they soon find themselves unavoidably drawn into a much bigger mission in which the very fate of Terca Lumireis might be at stake.

Estelle trying her best to give a high five.

As per usual, the friends that help them throughout their travels ultimately end up joining their little clique until the group is big enough to form their own guild. They decide to name their guild ‘Brave Vesperia,’ and first to join is Karol, a young boy exiled from another guild and thus eager to prove himself as a fighter. A feisty blastia scientist, Rita, joins the group shortly after since she sees their journey as an opportunity to learn more about the blastia.

Flynn also joins once the gang finally catches up to him, along with three other characters named Raven, Judith and Patty. I cannot disclose much about the these characters without giving away some crucial story moments, but it is worth noting that the writers did a superb job of keeping me uncertain with regards to their true identities and intentions. It certainly set the stage for some rather interesting surprises later on.

The devil is in de-tales

If I had to summarize Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition, I would say that it plays like entering your own anime epic. Many aspects of the game, from its narrative mechanisms to its combat style, impart a distinct cinematic and theatrical feeling to the player. As such, the game is generally a mix of pretty standard JRPG content, but with a distinct visual edge which has always given the series its unique identity within the genre.

The most obvious implementation of its anime pedigree lies in the game’s visuals. Tales of Vesperia has been rendered in a colour-popping, cel-shaded style which, even ten years later, looks great. A few shockingly bad in-game cut scenes have unfortunately survived the transition to the current generation, but they are few and far between thankfully. Besides, you are bound to forget about them entirely when you see how well the game’s graphics complement the fully animated cut scenes (also equally gorgeous).

Yuri fighting his buddy Flynn, but I won’t spoil why

The visuals are accompanied by an arousing and diverse soundtrack that is always in sync with what’s on screen. Combat scenarios generally received thumping rock beats, while exploration was augmented by classic orchestral symphonies, but the cherry on top is the opening song. It is called ‘Ring a Bell’ by Bonnie Pink and trust me, it will be firmly stuck in your head by the time the game is done. Go give it a listen.

True Commitment to Story-telling

As I mentioned, Tales of Vesperia shows its commitment to being a cinematic-driven adventure in how the game takes a more linear narrative approach. Whether it involved infiltrating a mansion of a corrupt official, or helping a town repair the blastia that upholds a protective barrier against monsters, every objective represented a key albeit sequential component in how the story plays itself out.

This effectively means that the game offers very little side content outside of the missions related to the main story, and I can imagine fans of fuller and more ‘looter-centric JRPGs’ might be left wanting here. For me, on the other hand, it was refreshing to play through a role-playing game that placed its story so front and center. Besides, if you ever get tired of blastia and the cast prattling on, there are recipes to create, battle strategies to refine, and ample opportunities to fight monsters for some extra XP on the side.

Apparently this is a series known for its beautiful and lush graphics.

Speaking of prattling on, Tales of Vesperia has got one of the chattiest casts I have ever encountered in a game. It is not exactly a problem (unless this kind of thing irks you) since the dialogue and interactions between characters have been written and localized rather well. The lengthy conversations between Yuri and the gang is in fact one of the most crucial ways in which the game conveys their personalities to the player, as well as colouring in the lore and history of Terca Lumireis.

The interactions between Karol and Rita were particularly a highlight of the game since they were really funny. Karol constantly pipes up with something stupid to say when the adults are talking only to be silenced by Rita with a firm head jab. It represents the kind of slapstick comedy I used to love while I was watching the Bleach anime series.

And here we have the resident mage Rita. This is one of the few scenes she is  not assaulting/teasing/whacking/chasing Karol.

Of course, additional but entirely optional interactions between characters are presented to players via the ‘skits’ that have become a fan favourite in this series. These are essentially delightful little intermissions in which the different characters have a brief tête-à-tête with one another.

Classic example of the skit

The skits could involve one character sharing their knowledge on a certain area or just throwing some good old fashioned shade at one of the others. They serve only to endear the characters to the player and are totally skippable, however I laughed my way through nearly all of them since they exhibit the same quality of writing as the rest of the game. It is yet another aspect of this game that demonstrates that classic Tales dedication to making its cast memorable and relatable.

The Linear Motion Battle System

The combat is where things get a little different, and, as any Tales veteran will be happy to tell you, it is here where the series makes its sharpest departure from the rest of the genre. Whereas all the heavy hitters from the JRPG founding fathers opted for the classic turn-based gameplay during battles, Tales games have since their SNES days had a more active system that looks like a permutation from a hack ‘n slash game.

In the case of Tales of Vesperia, it means the player must attack, guard and use magic against the enemy in real time, usually with the help of three squad mates. The battles are not random, and like many modern games of this kind, players can circumvent (read: run away!) from enemies that you would prefer not to engage.

A typical scenario would involve you seeing an enemy either in close quarters or in the over world map. Once the enemy has been engaged in combat, the game then moves everyone into an arena of sorts, with the camera adopting a side-long perspective not unlike a fighting game. The player then locks onto any chosen enemy, and proceeds to pummel them with a mixture of light melee attacks, as well as more powerful, magic-fueled assaults called ‘artes.’

Your rating is based on how much damage you avoided, combo hits, damage given, etc.

There are even rudimentary combos to be chained from connecting your character’s light and heavy attacks, and the higher Yuri (and the others) level(s) up, the more artes and finishing moves become available to him. Several short cuts have also been added to the D-pad which allowed me to change the overall strategy of my party on the fly, and you can really get into the nitty-gritty of tailoring your own unique strategy. By the time the game places you toe-to-toe with the boss enemies, changing between strategies is utterly indispensable.

For example, Rita is primarily a mage class with magical attacks while Estelle is a powerful healer. During normal grinding and lesser enemy encounters, they can certainly hold their own right next to you with sword and shield. However, during boss fights I tailored a preset where both characters kept their distance while focusing on the party’s health once their own HP dropped below 75%. Once I got the hang of all the systems and subsystems at work in the combat mechanics, the action-packed fighting became a delightfully intellectual affair much like a menu or turn-based system.

Alas, even once I began to feel sorry for the Pokemon-esque monsters for the swiftness at which I was mowing them down, I couldn’t get over how clumsy the system felt at times. If Yuri was not specifically locked onto the enemy closest to him, he often missed with his sword which left him striking stupidly at thin air in the middle of the battle arena. Making matters worse is that the controls are not the most responsive either meaning that combos are more a question of luck rather than skill.

Lastly, I also found most boss fights to be somewhat unfairly difficult in comparison with the rest of the game play. This is a matter easily solved by simply switching the combat difficulty to ‘Easy’ in the in-game settings (which I did a lot). Still, it feels like the developers could have done a little more to prepare the player for the jarring contrast in difficulty that so many of the boss encounters represent.

The 3D over world map. You can even camp out in the open for one night.

These are not exactly deal-breakers in the grand scheme of the combat system. Yet, it is disappointing to know that with a little tweaking and refinement, the already decent and unique trademark of the series could have elevated a great game to a nearly perfect status.

To be or not to be…

Tales of Vesperia is like the paradox of JRPGs in that it hosts so many familiar elements of the genre, yet it clearly shapes its own identity through its stylistic choices. Whereas other JRPGs feel like the seasoned old business magnates in their crisp suits, this game feels like the new, hip kid on the block wearing urban fashion.

Some more senseless violence! The ring on the left shows the edge of the combat arena.

This is not the first JRPG to be so consistently driven by its story, nor is it unique in its presentation. What I feel is special in Tales of Vesperia is how gracefully it pulls all of these elements together. This game will never allow you to become too preoccupied with one particular aspect of the overall experience on offer. Instead,  it is a well-rounded adventure which demands to be consumed in big, greedy chunks at once.

If you have been playing turned-based JRPGs since the days you were still using a potty, and you feel no immediate rush to venture too far out of this landscape, you might have a hard time warming up to this one. However, if you believe variety is the spice of life, and you are willing to test the barriers of what this genre can do, look no further. This game is in no rush to overwhelm you with complexity which makes it a compelling choice for old hands and newcomers alike.

  Supports up to 4K resolution

Cel-shaded beauty

Engaging story

Relaxing gameplay approach

Strong characters

Excellent score

Brilliant localisation

Several cut scene animations

Combat controls

No option to quick save

Difficulty spike with bosses

          Playtime: 57 hours total. For the single player campaign

Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using Nvidia GTX 1070, i5 4690K CPU, 16GB RAM – Played using an Xbox One Controller

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