#ββ π
π΄π½π°π³π΄ππ. drown your sorrows in black waters. β β
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the current venadeus (viii) never entirely wanted the position, anyway. his idea of power had been much more of the human kind - something militaristic, but he died before he could achieve it and scrambled at the opportunity to continue living. but the continuation never lived up to his mortal dreams. he had, and still has followers, but they bore him. nothing more than play toys for his fits of boredom. and now, pushing on eighteen centuries of being a god when he never really wanted to be one, he hates it more than ever. which is why he bears down on iovita as hard as he does. he is a dream-walker, a dream-maker, and he plagues theirs near-constantly. memories of their near-death experiences, dreams of possible deaths. he does not care about the wickedness of his dreams. if he must show them a dreamed death at the hands of someone io loved or has loved, then he will. and he tells them, in no uncertain words, to accept it already. iovita never slept well to begin with, but they really don't now. they drift sometimes, during their waking hours, and have to be reeled back in slow. dreamless sleep is a blessing, but it gets rarer and rarer as the months go on. it starts to get a little harder to keep the lines separate - what was a dream, what was reality. are they awake now? they woke once, and woke again, and someone's hands were on their throat, and then they woke again -
#ββ πΈ. we are never what we intend or envision. β©β©#πΌπ°πΈπ½ π°π±πΎππ. and if you make it out alive hold that bloody head up high.β β#ββ π
π΄οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½π°π³π΄ππ. drown your sorrows in black waters. β β#unreality tw
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venadeus is a unique god. a god at the outskirts, who through every generation has only pulled a small, secret following despite their power. venadeus is a blood-right. first-born offspring meant to inherit a throne, a title, godhood. the venadeus who sired iovita is the eighth one, and took the title from his mother. when he did, the domain changed from her own, god of anger, to something different. god of violent magic. when iovita eventually takes the title and becomes the ninth venadeus, their domain will change, too. god of destructive nature. the violent, brutal side. try as they might, no venadeus yet has shaken the inherent bloodletting of their line. violence and fury is a lingering curse. there's no timeline where they don't take venadeus's deal. iovita wants to live, despite the times where their mind may tell them differently. they want to live out of spite. they want to live for freedom. they want to live so that they can find peace. whether that is a violent path or a quiet, amicable one depends on who they surround themself with. iovita has a bad habit of equating the path to peace with violence.
#ββ π
π΄π½π°π³π΄ππ. drown your sorrows in black waters. β β#ββ πΈ. we are never what we intend or envision. β©β©#πΌπ°πΈπ½ π°π±πΎππ. and if you make it out alive hold that bloody head up high.β β
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last of my tags
#ββ π
π΄π½π°π³π΄ππ. drown your sorrows in black waters. β β#ββ πΌπ°πΆπΈπ². iβm not the old town crier iβm the one who sets it all on fire. β β#ββ π°π΄π. i found a way to steal the sun from the sky. β β#ββ πΈπ½ππ΄π πΌππ½π³πΎπ. burned it to the ground and the sky turned red. β β#ββ ππ°π
π΄π³. itβs who we are that keeps me believing. β β#ββ πΌπππΈπ². oh they sing all day and they haunt me in the night. β β#ββ πΏππΎπΌπΎ. bring all your things and we will build a pyre. β β#ββ ππ΄π»π΅ πΏππΎπΌπΎ. i make up names i might have had. β β#ββ πΈπ½π±πΎπ. canβt lift an old curse. β β#ββ π³π°ππ· π²πΎπΌ. a life spent talking when my epitaph would do. β β#ββ πΎπΏπ΄π½. i scream and shout like this just to prove to the world that i still exist. β β#β πππΈππΈπ½πΆ (πΈ. πΌπ°πΈπ½). bitter blood builds our prison cell. β β#β πππΈππΈπ½πΆ (π°. π³π΄ππ). bitter blood builds our prison cell. β β#β πππΈππΈπ½πΆ (πΈπΈ. ππ΄ππΏπ΄π½π). bitter blood builds our prison cell. β β#β πππΈππΈπ½πΆ (πΈπΈπΈ. πΌπ΄π). bitter blood builds our prison cell. β β
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