#lol I hate doing tags

[abomination-catboy]

FINAL FANTASY XIV: STORMBLOOD The Abomination Review, Part 1

Okay, so here's something entirely unnecessary; a review of an MMORPG expansion that came out six years ago. Hooray!

A little bit of background; I've been slowly making my way through the FFXIV expansions, in fact very VERY slowly because my attention is being pulled in 20 different directions at any given time and this game is so very, very long. I share a Discord server with some good friends and there's a section for all things FFXIV, and opinions on Stormblood are probably some of the most divisive I have encountered so far. One friend, who we'll refer to as J, really didn't fancy it at all, whereas another friend, S, enjoyed it and thought it would be, I quote 'exactly your kind of bullshit'.

So now that I've finished Stormblood and have started engaging in horrors such as 'cartoon chocobo drags party to Computer Hell Fightclub' and 'a raid with FREAKIN' MATH in it' everyone wants to know what I thought of Stormblood. So naturally, I did the normal person thing and created a blog to write the review up on in detail. LET'S GO~

It's been ages since I actually started Stormblood, so some of my recollections will likely be off. Hopefully this will just add humour, as I don't really mind myself and will not be making corrective edits :^)

I am not American, so neither is my spelling.

Spoilers for FFXIV ARR, HW and SB and related patch content, obviously.

Introduction: Welcome to Ala Mhigo

After briefly being reminded of the overarching plot of the whole game and following the trauma of watching Papalymo explode, we're thrown into another 40-hour long sidequest as Omega Weapon ker-chunks over the wall into Ala Mhigo and Lyse-Not-Yda-in-Fact suggests this is the perfect opportunity to help her people fight back against the Garlean Empire and end the war. Cool. Cool cool cool.

This is your Warrior of Light for the trip, Yhen'a Astolya. Both he and his sparrowhawk are a little unimpressed that 'get the Weapon' has turned into 'save entire nation from a 10+ year imperial occupation', but at this point that's just #WarriorofLightThings so he's resigned to his fate. At least he's cute. None of his outfits suit his personality because the character I re-made him from liked to show off his assets if you catch my drift and I'm yet to change many of the glams but. You'll see.

So anyway, Gyr Abania. What a shithole. NO REALLY SSHH The fist map is really kinda boring, and I get why; it's hard to make a desert map too interesting while still retaining the classification of desert. And here we have a whole nation that is in mostly desert. For what it's worth I think Square did a great job with their concept, but I can't help but wonder what Garlemald saw in taking this land over. I know, I know, they think they're doing us all a favour by bringing enlightenment to the savage heathens, blablabla, like any ol' antagonistic empire. Sure. But usually that's a leading reason with other factors, you know, and things like resources and land position are taken into account. I guess it's a great and easy way to send invasion forces through to the rest of Eorzea, but what else was there?

See, other people on google wanted to know too!

The internet didn't tell me, it just kept trying to give me timelines and essays, but I'm sure I missed the answer in a section of dialogue I skipped or something.

UPDATE: I said I wouldn't do these but to avoid Experts coming in to school me, another friend of mine we'll call A has said the Garleans went through Gyr Abania cause it was the only way to get to Eorzea. And their aerial invasion failed pre 1.0, which is not content I've played. They don't have a navy, b/c they're landlocked, but they made this amazing big 'unsinkable' airship that was supposed to be able to single-handedly conquer the whole world, then Midgardsormr (or as A refers to him, Dragon Daddy) said no, and destroyed it.

Anyway.

So Lyse leads us to Rhalgr's Reach after a pretty harrowing side-quest concerning an abandoned town that was used by the Garleans to experiment with some kind of magical plant plague, which was honestly kind of interesting. The Garleans suck, man.

Rhalgr's Reach is gorgeous, a nice breathe from the drab map between Baelsar's Wall and it, but first a note on the music so far.

I enjoy the new battle music well enough; it's a mix between cowboy movie rifts and traditional eastern music that somehow really works, and also makes me feel a bit like Indiana Jones, but I'm not a fan of the national anthem of Ala Mhigo following me everywhere in different forms on the map. It's okay if it's a quiet refrain version, but when the bombastic brass comes into it, it just turns me off the flavour of the game entirely. I don't think this was intentional, its just a very nationalistic approach, which is all well and good for a story about a resistance who are clearly very patriotic trying to fight off invaders and its absolutely being used in good faith, but any band of patriotism is always a bit much for me so I played a lot of this expansion in Ala Mhihgo areas with the music turned down.

So we're trying to form an alliance, and getting resistance from the usual suspects. We get re-introduced to Arenvald around this time too, who is one of my favourite tropes of 'strong man softboi' so I take to him instantly. There's a few little battles and skirmishes, and Lyse is feeling pretty g about our ragtag little Alliance before things, as they do, go pear-shaped.

Enter Imperial Viceroy Zenos yae Galvus, otherwise known as 'golf douche'.

I cannot take credit for this amazing and hilariously accurate nickname. That would go to J. Leading up to this moment they were all 'have you met him yet, have you met golf-douche?' which honestly gave him an air of mystery he entirely did not deserve.

(seriously, I'm a cat-dad and Zenos has maybe two facial expressions, this one being his 'head empty no thoughts (but murder)' one, but the fangirls think he has a rich inner world. Nobody who owns a cat sees this face and thinks that.)

People seem to love Zenos online, and I can only assume it's because he's both pretty and disturbed; that Discount-Sephiroth face and hair, with hips and thighs so thick he probably cracks Ala Mhigan skulls between them, plus he waxes poetical about murder. You know, all the things the straight whyte girls who write yaoi love in a top.

Anyway, he's a bit of a fuckwit, and he has a fuckwit golf-caddy that he carries his extra swords in (sword-caddy?) thus the nickname, so it was a little embarrassing getting absolutely reamed by him. I was on Dark Knight too, so like, let's be real Squeenix, I would have won on sheer endurance AND edge if it hadn't been one of your fun 'you can't win this battle but have it anyway for dramatic storytelling purposes' moments that we all k̙n̘̝̻o͖̙̺̣w̷̫̞̤ ̮̙̤̝a̡̤̠ͅn͓̲̩̱͕d̷ ̦ͅͅl̶̺̪̟͚̼̣̞o̶͖̪v̘̜͎ͅè̥̮͎̘.

Our party decides that because golf-douche almost murderised all of us in one fell swoop and Lyse is still feeling pretty sensitive about the whole Papalymo thing, the best option is to travel to an entirely different and very far away nation, and help them defeat the Garlean occupation there so that a) the Garlean's and hopefully golf-douche will be distracted fighting a war on two fronts, and b) the other nation will then feel indebted to us and obligated (or strong-armed? They never quite clarify) to come help fight the Garleans in Ala Mhigo.

I am instantly a bit uncomfortable about this. It's presented both in a way that makes it seem like we're trying to do good by two nations rather than just one, but also very coldly as if we're playing war to suite our own overarching agenda, which will then force these people who have been terrorised and occupied for over a decade, to come fight another war they have less (if no) stake in.

I suppose 'the fate of the entire world and the Crystal Mother Lady' is a pretty good excuse when it comes down to it, but there's still a vibe of 'end justifies the means, and because our quest is an honorable one we'll make these tough decisions for people' vibe that just doesn't sit too right with me. These nations being freed from Garlean rule isn't the goal here, it's just a favourable side-effect of our actual plan. This feeling does lessen a little later when it's made more obvious that the whole team is very invested in helping out Ala Mhigo and Doma and it's more that we have to prove to the Alliance that it's a worth-while investment in a colder way. But towards the start, yea, felt weird.

Oh, and we met the Angy One! She's a great character, one of my fav antagonists in the expansion actually. But you don't know that yet at this point of the game, she's just a nation-traitor everyone hates, and for good reason. Actually, nobody really likes her, not even on her team, but she keeps going on ahead anyway.

Gaslight gatekeep girlboss~

I do also feel like we're leaving Ala Mhigo way too soon, before I really had a chance to become invested in it, you don't even get to finish the first map (The Fringes) and this isn't helped by the Doman leg of the game being by far more visually interesting and narratively compelling, but we'll get to that next time, in part two.

So far, a little underwhelming. Pros:

Learning more about Lyse's character, actually quite like getting to know her.

The battle music

Rhalgr's Reach design is pretty stunning

Good location names

The Hidden truth > Drawing a Blank questline

And a bit of a longer list, Cons:

The 'national anthem-esque' music

The Fringes is a boring map in visual and mechanics design

The story is slow to move

Golf-douche archetype is two-dimensional and ugh

Are we playing games with entire nations just to get to our shiney Omega Boi

Barely in Gyr Abania before being whisked away to a far more interesting area and narrative, as if the game devs didn't believe in it either.

Where the fuck are my aether currents let me fly you asshats

Entirely not ghey enough

I'll give this first length of the game a 2½/5. Until next time folks, unless the hyperfocus whisks me off forever.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 

It smelled mockingly delicious. 

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--” 

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering. 

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 

(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 

Eddie hated how good he looked too. 

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 

(Their characters were dead too.) 

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.  

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman; 

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them. 

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.) 

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 

Get him to help Harrington. 

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 

“I’m supervising.” 

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 

xXx 

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school? 

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses. 

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 

To defend his table, his club, his friends. 

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 

“How delightful. I--” 

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 

Eddie gaped. 

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy. 

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 

In Eddie’s fucking place. 

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 

Sonovabitch. 

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone. 

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this? 

Been a douchebag asshole? 

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 

“...I’m not following.” 

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 

“Not so loud, Steve!” 

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 

“Robs, breathe.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 

 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 

You know, in a gay way. 

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 

Eddie’s head exploded. 

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire. 

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn’t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[buggachat]

i do just have to say though.................... i feel like people who really really loved the movie's portrayals of the characters are adding aspects of the show characters onto them? you know what i mean? like i see people say that adrien and marinette were more likeable in the movie than the show, when movie adrien didn't perform a single act of kindness in the entire 2 hours despite kindness being a core trait of adrien in the show? marinette was normal and not particularly weird at all and just kind of a generic protagonist? were adrien and marinette actually more interesting in the movie than the show, or are you just cherrypicking the aspects of them you like the from the show and putting them on the movie characters to make your favorite amalgamation?

marinette fell for adrien not because he showed vulnerability and forgiveness and kindness and opened his heart up to her.... but because he awkwardly tried to help her up after being kind of weirded out by her? so like i guess she thought he was hot and that was basically it? chat noir fell for ladybug not because she was strong and confident and showed determination in the face of fear... but because she begrudgingly helped him up in the middle of a battle? so like i guess he thought she was hot and that was basically it? they fell for each other over just the bare minimum interactions? most of their relationship was a montage? like, did the movie do the work to convince you of lovesquare's romantic potential, or did you go into the movie already shipping them because the show had already convinced you?

thats totally a valid way to enjoy the movie ftr! i'm just saying.... idk it's weird to see people praising the movie for being "better" when i feel like a lot of the enjoyment of the movie actually hinges on watching the show as context for their characters. and i guess im just a cringe slow-burn enjoyer but i find it weird that people are using "faster" as a synonym for "better"

[adriancatrin]

katara sees her brother and bff approaching something that can make them happy and says no interruptions

based on this photo from the live action cast

[morskisir]

CRAZY EVIL BITCH!!!!!!

[littlelightfish]

I would like to remind people that Chilchuck hasn't seen his wife in 4 years.

So he maybe wasn't there to see his daughters become adults, but he was there for the majority of their childhood.

When he left, Mayjack and Flertom were 12, and Puckpatty was 10. They reach adulthood at 14, so maybe yes, he was absent when they were still kids, but that doesn't mean he didn't maintained contact with them afterwards as far as I know. The thing he uses around his neck was a gift from Flertom, and he was using it when he met Laios's party.

[saotoru]

how they eat it

dante, nero, vergil x fem reader

tw cum eating

dante

dante is sloppy. he likes it filthy and messy. the sight of your sticky cunt covered with his cum drives him so fucking feral that he lowers his mouth onto you and laps it up, moaning at how good you both taste. he knows you’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, overstimulated by the way you squeal his name and pull on his hair, but dante doesn’t care. he needs to feel you cum on his face. he wants it so bad that he whines into your cunt, slipping two fingers inside you while his lips wrap around your clit, the sensitivity bringing you close to another orgasm.

“fuck, you taste so good, angel… tastes so good when you’re covered in me. cmon princess, squirt for me, please make a mess on me…”

a hand comes to press down on your lower abdomen and that’s enough to send you hurtling over the edge, all the pressure building up finally releasing. you shake violently while dante fucks you through your orgasm, but he’s got you, licking up all you have to offer. he pulls back for a moment to admire your pussy glistening with saliva, cum, and squirt, smoothing his hands over your thighs. “good job, pretty girl… give me another one, yeah?”

nero

nero is sweet, so gentle that it’s almost teasing. he’s nervous peeling off your panties to admire your pretty pussy, shiny with arousal. he’s so awestruck that he forgets he’s just staring and his warm breath tickles, making you close your thighs instinctively, a bit shyly.

“no, no,” he says as he gently pries your legs open once more. his eyes meet yours. “you’re so gorgeous.”

“nero…”

the whine in your voice is so cute that nero just can’t help but give you what you want. he presses a kiss at the junction of your thigh, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your knees. “i know, baby.”

he loves to kiss everywhere first, softly, over both thighs and all over your pussy. he wants to show you how much you mean to him. it makes you squirm in anticipation with how slow he’s being, how ticklish his lips feel, that you almost whine again before finally feeling him press a long kiss to your clit. nero rewards you for your patience by making out with your sensitive clit, the moans it earns him spurring him on, his tongue parting your folds. he can’t get enough of your reaction, entranced by the way your hips twitch with every flick of his tongue. you’re so cute when you grind yourself against his face like this, that he can’t help but hump into the mattress, getting himself off to being used to make you cum.

vergil

vergil is actually feral. for someone who prides himself on composure and self control, he’s rough when he eats you out. he can’t help it. his burning desire to taste you is so overwhelming that all he can do is shove his face further into your pussy. he grips the soft flesh of your thighs hard and pins them to the bed, leaving you unable to squirm away from his relentless tongue. it’s too much, your clit still sore from your third orgasm but vergil isn’t done. he needs more. “your taste…” his voice is a growl, borderline inhuman. “it’s driving me insane.”

the nails digging into the flesh of your thighs become sharper, and you realize that he’s close to dting. the realization has your legs accidentally clamping around his head but vergil growls, large hands forcing you open and holding you still.

“enough. take it.”

you can’t interrupt him, not when he’s like this, not when he needs to have his fill of you. he mouths at your pussy, pressing his face into you as much as he can. slick coats his face, tongue, nose, everywhere, filling his senses with you, but it’s still not enough. he gives your clit a rough, hard lick, pleased how you writhe and whine beneath him. vergil loves how vulnerable and pliant you are, letting him make you cum again and again until he’s satisfied.

[buglaur]

this is kit, please commission some art from them on social bunny 🙏

[dovesick]

mothman in the glittering night

[snarkspawn]

some KoD/Spirealm sketches

[zwierzodudle]

every time i get prae in the roulette i put off starting gaius' questline for another month (i will never start it)

[starrysharks]

evilution

[chepib3]

something that bothers me a lot is when people write the batfam as a sort of entity completly detached from the rest of the dcu oh my god these people have Friends and relationships dick wouldn't be the same if he wasn't friends with donna or if he had never dated starfire or if he had never led the titans tim wouldn't be the same without his friends either (he was deeplydeeply affected by kon and bart's deaths that was sort of a Big deal) damian needs jon and maya etc to remember he's allowed to be a kid and jason. well jason is a lonely loser like his dad but for everyone else their relationships are very important

[funkbun]

i think it's funny how floofy n beffica are leading that Evil Grumpuses poll cause to me they're two completely different levels of "Shitty Person" lol

they're like this to me

[fenmori]

my faith is sick and my skin is thin as ever