🔥 🔥 🔥

now you will burn in hell.

[antipyre]

#ANTIPYRE  ⁠—  independent, private, selective, and mutuals only ffxiv based multimuse. loved by cole. currently iconless. spoilers and triggers will be tagged. canon-divergent. must read carrd before following.

[antipyre]

(crawls back around on here like a weevil) Sorry i was awol for like a month a lot has been going on

[antipyre]

hello valerian community

[aleport-a-deactivated20231007]

i think emet selch is a milf 🤔

[antipyre]

@hisburial  //  a flower for you.

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@songbite   //  let’s dance until the sunrise.

[antipyre]

finally doing the ew healer role quests myself and having thoughts (not just watching a video) 

i do like the detail that, while pushing people away, she still finds that she wants comfort. the way the wol goes “i need to heal you” and she resigns going “ok make it quick” and then when she stops herself from becoming a blasphemy and asks for you to stay with her for a bit... i dont know what im trying to get at but im very fond of her vulnerability because as we knew her in stormblood she was trying to take all matters into her own hands so her people could be freed (the garlean brainwashing (via propaganda and how her parents were) i think its nice to see that part of her growth is leaning on people (and also accepting the harsh consequences of her actions) . 

[antipyre]

haha valerian you are banging my great grandfather

[antipyre]

( don’t r*blog ) I love her

[antipyre]

[nothingbutunlost-deactivated202]

Lol it's me

[antipyre]

i really really do adore val’s relationship with life/death in and of itself because it’s just... val wants to die, but she wants to live too. she wants to live for the sake of hydaelyn because she knows it’s her duty and she wants to see it through to the end. she loves mankind and wants to see it live but at the same time she sternly believes that, because her body is how it is, how it continually rots and she has to find a way to take in aether that she has to steal it from others so that she can move and function. she can’t actually die even from her aetherspurn due to the interference of the echo and how it keeps her alive- she just... continually rots. she could decay all the way to bone but her soul would still remain until the echo fades (granted, getting to this point would take some time.) 

and from there when we get into how she feels about being alive. she wants to finally know peace again because she knows there’s something horribly wrong with her. she feels that she’s not even a person anymore. it shows in more or less every action she takes, how she’s physically incapable of sleep and feeling tired, how she’s just... “living.” i’m struggling to find words but i’ve thought about it and, genuinely, she would feel better having an ardbert-like existence. her body rejects her and it leads to some level of complications in how she even exists in the world with the echo acting as glue to keep her together (both spiritually and physically.) i’m rambling now but she’s so fun because her identity baffles her and she doesn’t know what to consider herself and it makes her hot

[antipyre]

@flowerwept​ asked:

A frown settles deeply on Fandaniel's face, chin propped up in his hands. He's unsure when Hythlodaeus's shard had traveled back to Elpis, if she had yet, or if it was still yet to happen. But Valerian's visage irritates him. Perhaps because now Fandaniel isn't Hermes, clutched in the vice grip of his selfishness. He sighs, drumming fingers against the side of his face, and a bitter smile surfaces. "You should have told him." You should have just told him how ugly you feel. Hermes: so absorbed in his own pain but unwilling to accept that he was. "About the festering rot in your heart."

          what was he talking about? the festering rot, to whom? what did this ascian know about valerian? stoicism is replaced with shock, if only for a moment, fear gripping her chest.

          “  ...aha.  ”  and she’s colder now than ever, the grin she had not reaching her eyes, empty and sinister. half-lidded, almost mocking, almost threatening.  “  and who are you speaking of?  ”  head tilts almost innocently, her fingers intertwining and a villainous face unmoving.  “  i haven’t the slightest what you mean... is my heart so twisted?  ”  it is, it is, she knows it is but she feigns ignorance all the same in front of a man she holds no respect for. a body she’s not sure is hers tilts forward, suddenly at that. face to face with the ascian, wide eyes peering into his.   “  and if so, for what reason should i tell anyone anything?  am i not allowed to have secrets?  ”

          fingers reach for the shorter man’s face, nails digging into a corpse’s skin. grip feels that she wants to tear his off, rip off the skin and remove that smile on fandaniel’s. it bothers her and she can’t pinpoint why.  “  so i will not tell anyone anything,  ”  a deeper voice, a harsher tone  —  darkness within her bleeds out as she wishes he would. ambiguity brings out a fury in her. a life which is out of her control, a fear of rejection from those she vaguely cares for, a lack of anything which she can hold onto for dear life... 

          akin to adding oil to a fire, her frustration burns brightly. whatever he knows, she doesn’t like it. she doesn’t like it at all.  “  i will not tell anyone anything and let them think of me as the saint they wish me to be.  ”  for what else can she be? 

          inhale. exhale. breathe deeply, do not have fear. hear her words, feel her love, think of what must be done. you are nothing more than an extension of her. valerian rationalizes it, boiling emotions now simmering. if she had been to elpis prior, there’s a chance she would’ve agreed with what he said. maybe she would have also thought it would help him to know, for hermes to see the wretched pieces of what little she held left in her... but she hadn’t been there. she hadn’t. 

          slowly does valerian release him from her grasp. horrible, horrible. disgusting. vile. she should know better. in how difficult she is to anger, how difficult it is for her to lash out... fandaniel had found a way. it could be a shared yearning for oblivion that annoyed her, or maybe it’s merely a talent of his. was it fun for him to see her like this?

          a flick to fandaniel’s forehead to leave one final scratch. she hates him, she hates him so much.  “  don’t mention that again,  ”  states the warrior of light who’d only moments prior clawed at his face.  “  as it’s for the sake of everyone that i do not.  ”  who wants a hero who sacrifices their people?

[antipyre]

aleport​.

━━━ starter for @antipyre​     ⭐     elidibus for venat !

it’s strained ,     the way that their expression compresses .     beneath carmine ,     beneath the weight of everything that had been left upon them .     they are too young ,    words that many have spoken on their behalf ,     they are too young and yet as the sky burns before them they have never felt so weightless .     bright ,     hot ,     burning ,     it’s all too much but it doesn’t feel beyond them ,     not even for a moment .

themis’s gaze does not move ,     if you can even still call them by that name .     they do not falter ,     they do not stray away from venat’s own expression .     perhaps she could tell ,     that even now they were no longer themself .     that whatever had happened began to eat away at what was once a dear companion ,     that the frayed edges of whoever ‘themis’ used to be had begun to unravel .     they were elidibus ,     and this was merely their duty .

“     you really won’t change your mind will you ,     venat ?     ”     the words are spoken quietly ,     and yet carefully ,     delicately and filled with purpose ,     importance .     they’ve had this conversation before ,     many times before ,     and yet ever did her answer remain the same each and every time .     “     there is no other way around this ,     you of all people should be aware of what we must do to save our star .     ”

           venat cannot look at them. she finds she’s unable to meet their gaze, to see what themis had become, to see the way they are no longer themself. she wishes she could cry what few tears she has left. the final days has left her dried, the blaze surrounding them taking as many lives as the beasts they’d seen. it hurts most when she knows why this is, that she cannot have prevented what will happen to themis, that she is left powerless in the aid of elidibus. she cannot bear to look at them by the vice of guilt. this had to happen. 

          struggling still to find her words, composure merely remains an illusion for the former azem. perhaps her actions to come are to satisfy her own arrogance. it is unbearably selfish, after all, finding that she will be revered as though she’s a god. just as themis has taken their mantle, so too shall she soon be required to. venat so desperately hopes that it’s not too late, that she could reverse this, that the days which they’d spent laughing and enjoying themselves... how funny it is, in the face of the apocalypse, that she remembers the good times more. so deeply does she desire to reach out and treat them as she used to. there is no more laughter found here.

          “  i won’t.  ”  and it pains her to abandon her friends  —  pains her to defy them all, to do similar to what elidibus has. to become the heart would mean to lose herself. she knows that she must do this for her own peace of mind.  “  you know that already, don’t you? that i can’t agree to the path they’ve chosen.  ”  yet still she removes themis from this. as a knife stabbing through her heart, she cannot bear to speak of what they’ve agreed to. not yet. venat can’t do it yet.  “  there is always another path we can take, elidibus.  ”  her face felt hollow. she doesn’t know what expression she has anymore.  “  this... isn’t the answer.  ”

[antipyre]

pov you are her little pogchamp

[antipyre]

[antipyre]

flowerwept​.

Hermes flinches where he kneels:  “Please don’t say that.”  The words come out brash and immediate with little time to regret them. How can one such as he be beautiful when even the flowers reject him? When they wilt and wither in his presence no matter his attempts to reflect good cheer on the world? And what even is beauty? It certainly wasn’t something Hermes and his fellow Amaurotines could agree upon. Not even Hythlodaeus. Hermes’s figure hunches further, the sun illuminating his back and casting a long shadow before him. All he can do is stare at the encroaching void.  “It is not true.”  Why is he being so cruel? Valerian had only meant to ease the ache on his heart. Hermes knows this, and yet…

“I am filled with fear.”  He’s speaking fast now, perhaps trying to prove to Valerian that he is not beautiful or something like that, although he can’t be sure of his intent either.  “And I know I do not belong. And to console my own ego I created Meteion. It was pure selfishnesss.”  One of his hands reaches to the ground to stabilize his wavering figure, palm meeting shadow.  “That is not beautiful.”  Breath hitches.  “I–made a promise. That I would not bind another creature to this earth…but how quickly I forget myself…”

          outright rejection of her belief comes as a surprise, eyes wide if only for a brief moment. perhaps her words were more insensitive than she’d expected. valerian stays quietly, letting the ancient speak what he believes, listening as best as she can when she could hardly understand the plight. far too lofty are the abilities of the ancients for her to fully comprehend and, frankly, she cares little about details. as far as she understands, it is the stress of bringing someone into the world for a reason which hermes found far too indulgent... the air between them is silent, save for the sound of herself adjusting her position. wondering what could be said, what could make this any less odd for them. instead, she speaks vaguely what she believes.  “  to you.  ”  a voice that struggles to find its own warmth, comfort difficult to come by for someone so fleeting.  “  it is selfishness to you, but i think otherwise.  ”           seated on green grass  —  a soft breeze truly makes this place feel almost like paradise. almost. she knows it better than the biased testimony of an ascian she’d received.  “  even if the intentions are cruel, would the end result not matter more than intent?  ”  a smile tries to find its way on valerian’s face but it’s difficult, for she knows full well. the end justifies the means and so too are the reasons. did it matter how many lives she trampled on for her own sake if it meant that what hydaelyn wished for would be seen through? not at all. she tells herself this every time.  “  you care about them all. you care despite why they’re each created. you don’t perform your duty half-heartedly. is that not enough?  ”  she turns away from hermes, turns away from someone who felt too kind for her. there was a feeling that, maybe, she shouldn’t be the one to say this with hands embodying death. she’s a liar.           “  that is what i find beautiful.  ”  her laugh is hardly one at all.  “  and i’m... envious.  ”  of his love, his adoration, his devotion  —  his feeling which spans more than obligation. valerian could not remember those days.