#eiusvitaaeterna

[automotive-design]

EXEED EIUV official renderings

[unholyfates]

“ And the truth of the matter is: I never let you go... ”  The admission comes with no small amount of grief. There are few things important enough to Emeritus to warrant caring, and yet she’s always been one of them. His Diosa. Of course, he’s never done anything to deserve her. That is no surprise. He’s a selfish creature destined for great things, his flaws are endless.

@eiusvitaaeterna

[ratpoisons]

@eiusvitaaeterna replied to your photo: speaking of artwork i can’t believe i never...

Hauntingly beautiful

just like you. 

[omeg-aaa]

Hey oh! Were you aware of the fact that you're fucking fantastic? Both as a human and a writer? Cause you are.

 dhsajdkshajkdhjsakdhjksahdjksahdjk thank you for this, it really means a lot. thank you for taking time to send me this and i also want to say, are you aware that you are so sweet and always very encouraging? 

also you have fantastic writing. a high recommendation on my list. 

[feverfingers-aa-blog]

Smash or Pass + Annabelle Rose Shadows {*Runs away*}

smash   or   pass  |  @eiusvitaaeterna​

Agallant sweep of his arm. 

A bravado display of eloquence as the Ghoul announced himself, mimicking a bombast herald at a ball. “If thylady desires to know! I’d give her, pardonmy french, asmash-ing good time.”

[unholyfates]

@eiusvitaaeterna

Twenty-four hours ago he was looking for the hottest party on a Saturday night, now he’d just been shown to the most extravagant bedroom he’d ever seen. They told him it was his. “Is it to your liking, Papa?” they had asked and it had taken Santino a moment to realize they were talking to him. Sister Imperator had said something about that. He was to become a papa or apparently The Papa, to this church. Things were happening so fast that they were almost spiraling out of control. He’d withdrawn from all his classes at university, dropped his entire life at a moment’s notice to be flown to Europe. 

Something about the place seemed familiar to him, though he’d never imagined visiting any sort of place like this. Until last night he didn’t even know people worshipped Satan, but he couldn’t ignore what he’d seen, how he’d felt in the light of His Infernal Majesty. So here he was in a place they claimed he’d been born in, wondering if perhaps this was mistaken identity. The clergy assured him that there was no mistake, his blood was pure and the line of his forefathers would endure; unbroken.

It’s hard for him to sleep that first night. He stares at the canopy over his bed, sighing as he tosses his blankets aside and finds his shoes. If he can’t sleep and everyone else has retired for the night, he thinks now is his chance to explore without being watched. 

Santino grabs a torch outside his bedroom, deciding to venture to the deepest parts of the church, the ones he know will likely be the oldest, his steps echoing as he descends the stone stairway. That song from the night before still fills his head with a haze he’s yet to shake, softly singing to himself as he reaches the landing below, raising the torch to reveal winding tunnels. “I just wanna be- wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.” He pauses at the fork, deciding to go left and then right once he hits another. “And I don’t wanna end like this, but there’s a sting in the way you kiss me, something within your eyes said it could be the last time, ‘fore it’s over.” 

When he hears his voice echoing further out he realizes he must have reached the end of this particular tunnel, and he’s right. It opens up to a large room, a raised altar in the center, stone coffin resting atop it. He spots the torches set at each corner of the altar, lighting them and setting his into the placeholder so he can get a better look of this room. Unfortunately, no such luck. While his Italian has always been exceptional, the carvings are too old and weathered to make out even as he traces them with his fingers. With a quiet prayer, seeking forgiveness for his curiosity, he summons all of his strength to slide the stone tablet off the coffin. Something compels him to know its content, and he won’t be satisfied until he does. After all, he came down here for a reason.

[ratpoisons]

Vicious reminder that you are a fantastic human being - whose characters are amazing. Glad to see you back and I hope you're well. 💞

Hello hello my dear.  Thank you so much for this welcome back message, all the same to yourself and I also thank you for your patience.  It feels great to be back and it’s equally great to see you around.  Hope you’ve been well!

[ratpoisons]

          OH  HOW  HER  RAGE  STIRRED  behind  an  unfaltering gaze.     He  could  see  it  as  much  as  he  could  feel  it,   sending  the  most  pleasant  chill  down  the  skin  of  his  nape  like  an  icy  cold  touch  that  burned  as  hot  as  flame.     Powder  snow  fell  delicately  and  crunched  beneath  his  feet  as  the  Cardinal  crouched  to  pick  the  LAST  surviving  rose  from  the  churchyard's  hedgerow,   its  thorns  too  docile  to  penetrate  black  leather --- black  like  the  entirety  of  his  ensemble  so  only  his  pale,   insipid  face  was  not  concealed  by  melanoid  darkness.     As  he  rises  to  full  height  he  clutched  the  flower's  head  tightly,   allowing  it  to  disintegrate  in  the  palm  of  his  hand.     It  bled  crimson  petals,   carried  away  by  the  gentle  but  frigid  winds.     Copia  then  discarded  the  crumpled  remnants  that  were  once  beautiful  and  alluring  mere  moments  ago,   watching  them  fall  sorrowfully  before  the  headstone  of  Papa  Emeritus  III.     His  cold  smile  is  befitting  of  the  symbolism  unfolding  before  both  himself  and  Annabelle.     She  looked  so  broken  yet  roused,   an  antique  doll  with  no  function  but  still  looked  PRETTY  sitting  on  somebody's  mantle  piece.

Winter  had  come  for  the  roses,   removing  them  of  their  purpose  and  their  splendor,   just  as  he  had  done  to  her.     He  pondered  in  that  moment  if  the  year's  end  felt  just  as  powerful.      ❛ Make  no  mistake.     Even  I  wouldn't  be  so  presumptuous  as  to  deny  that  troublemaker's  fealty  to  the  third  Emeritus,   quite  the  opposite  in  fact,   considering  his  heartbroken  retreat  after .  .  . Well. ❜      Copia's  eyes  roll  downward  to  the  withered  rosehead  and  grave  as  if  they  were  taboo  to  speak  aloud.      ❛ I  just  think  he  was  too  weak  to  overcome  his  despair  and  see  the  bigger,  grander  picture. ❜      He  knows  what  he's  doing.     He's  digging  beneath  her  skin,   teasing  old  wounds  while  making  new  ones.     Calculating  incisions.      His  eyes  immediately  dart  back  to  Annabelle's  in  hopes  of  catching  a  quick  FLINCH  or  two. ❛ At  least  he's  a  lot  more  durable  than  that  figurehead  he  loved  so  much,   knowing  he's  still  alive.    Ergo,   I  suppose  I  can't  speak  too  ill  of  him.    But  I  digress.    Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  how  he's  doing?     For  yourself  I  mean.     What  a  sweet  reunion  that  would  be. ❜      He  clasped  his  hands  together,    leaning  forward  with  a  sappy  expression  as  though  he  were  in  the  middle  of  a  pantomime  act;   Sheer  mockery.     What  does  she  have  to  lose  now  other  than  the  Quintessence?     Dangling  everything  she  held  dear  at  the  precipice,   chaining  her  to  his  ambition.    All  that  Copia  had  put  into  motion  had  flourished  in  resounding  chaos.    It  came  at  a  price  for  many  yet  had  apparently  left  him  unscathed,   allowing  him  to  slot  into  place,   exactly  where  he  YEARNED  to  be --- Caressing  the  arms  of  the  papal  throne  like  the  embrace  of  a  lover  making  love  to  his  ego.     Indeed  he  was  virulent .  .  . pestilent.     And  indeed  the  Devil's  will  favoured  Copia,   cruel  as  sin.     He’d  led  Omega  to  believe  callous  fate  took  Annabelle  from  him,   to  ensure  his  constitution  would  shatter,    making  it  that  much  easier  to  shape  him  to  the  Cardinal's  agenda;   Without  her  knowledge  nor  the  Clergy's.     He  couldn't  help  but  simper,   mulling  over  what  her  reaction  might  be  to  learning  he  had  been  so  CLOSE  this  entire  time,   tortured  and  crippled  deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  cathedral's  underpass.    It  had  been  months  since  he  ceased  to  speak,   since  his  flesh  could  withstand  injury  still  festering,   since  his  eyes  held  any  semblance  of  lucidity.     Tormented  in  every  sense  of  the  word.    Omega's  laughter  seemed  only  a  distant  memory  lost  beneath  the  fetid  corpse  pile  devised  by  none  other  than  Copia.    From  the  ghoul's  mouth  nothing  remained  but  his  soul  begged  for  mercy;   To  no  avail  for  he  would  not  have  it.             Debauchery  ruled  the  Cardinal  and  his  cruelty  knew  no  limits --- Like  sickness  his  venom  acted  slowly,   rotting  body  &  mind.    Relentless.    His  smile  was  the  crescent  moon  privy  to  plague - infested  Europe  crying  out  in  a  crescendo  of  screams  and  prayer  in  vain.     His  very  presence,   a  terrible  omen.      He  enjoyed  the  sound  of  cracking  bone  and  breaking  hearts.     He  stood  hauntingly  akin  to  a  wraith  amongst  a  sea  of  graves,   snow  dusting  his  shoulders  as  he  grinned  eerily  never  once  removing  his  gaze  from  Annabelle.     It  was  as  though  he  was  staring  straight  through  her  at  an  entity  looming  over  her  shadow.    He  did  not  move.    He  did  not  blink.     His  pupils  like  needle - point  possessed  by  something  grotesque.      ❛ A .  .  . Sweet .  .  . Reunion .  .  . ❜      He  uttered  again  ( but  far  more  forebodingly )  through  his  knife  of  a  smile  though  his  face  moved  little,   taking  on  the  appearance  of  a  waxen  effigy.       ❛ You  would  do  anything  to  be  in  his  arms  wouldn't  you? ❜      In  that  moment  everything  that  enveloped  them  came  to  a  halt,   colder  and  quieter  than  before.     Even  creatures  of  the  night  seemingly  fled  their  vicinity.      ❛ Anything. ❜       He  takes  a  step  closer;   Another  BITE  into  her  inhibitions.

⊰ CONTINUED  FROM  ( x )    /    @eiusvitaaeterna​​    /    because  tumblr  wouldn’t  let  me  turn  the  other  post  into  an  editable  reblog ⊱