#lapeirla

[arcanarosa]

@lapeirla

“Come out with me.”

He stepped into the room and leaned his frame over the willowy body of his wife, his cheek pressed against hers as he plucked paper and pen from her fingers. He knew she must have heard him (tripping on overgrown vines and coils of rubber tubing as he did) but she had not once looked up to greet him. Imagine, after years and years of struggle, he’s finally replaced by a couple of vials of poison and beakers.

“Come out with me,” he repeats as he pushes away her hair to better rest his chin on her shoulder. “I’ve finished my work for the day. I’m tired of looking at numbers and,” he looks at the scribbles on her paper and the measurements glance back, “-- I’m sure you are too.”

It was destiny for the woman who would dare to steal from her own aunt to follow in that very aunt’s path. He wouldn’t be surprised if sea witches just so happen to run in her family. “You can plan to poison your enemies after dinner.”

[ravirider]

@lapeirla replied to your post “@asundrop​ replied to your post “give me attention...

Prettyfolk deserve to pay for their crimes :( that's why I'm sending all this hate mail from my prison cell :(

prison you say? huh. they finally managed put you where you belong.

[ensavaged]

🔥

i think having 20 AUs and random verses that are a completely different genre than your character’s main verse is so hot and fun and if anyone tells you otherwise they’re objectively wrong 

[msktfired]

@lapeirla​ + sc!

The ocean is a calming sound for the Musketeer as he walks along the beach. Normally he does not patrol a town that isn’t Paris but needs must. There has been talk of strange sights and hysteria that has called the Musketeers to the town in search of answers. The King doesn’t like any talk of the supernatural or the mythical and so they need to find the true cause of the talk. Or, make sure that they can at least control what the people are saying.

[princesssolaria]

@lapeirla continued from here

Adora has never wanted to jump from a carriage more in her life. She almost did too- had it not been for the guards meant to watch over her. Tears burn her eyes at the young woman’s taunt, her lip trembling pitifully- even for a little girl. 

“Well someone has to do something,” Why isn’t her father stopping this? Didn’t he know that poor man would- that he’d be- “No wait! Stop!” Before she’s even aware of it, she’s halfway out the window, a strong pair of arms being the only things keeping her from running up there. A whimper, then the sobbing starts, for what else can she do? The child has never encountered such cruelties before today. Her grandparents shielded her from anything that may upset one so frail, Her parents had only ever shown her love and light. Adora hits, she kicks and screams, all while tears of grief for the man stream down rosy cheeks. Here, a child always in danger of dying, experiencing loss for the first time. 

[deoscuridad]

"You said I killed you - haunt me then." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Salazar had often likened himself (or rather his soul) to a ghost--the meandering of a lost soul across some desolate landscape seemed perfectly romantic--- Romantic in that fatalistic sort of way. Yet, he did not prefer to haunt others, save for himself. Were his thoughts not the only things keeping him awake at night? Had the emotions of a bygone era not been hushed by his melancholic soul? Even the photographs taken of him were blurred, a memory lost in time whose TRUE essence could never be captured. Even his faithful canine companions, Basil and Amaranth, who flitted from room to room like two great, shadowy phantoms seemed to reflect his sorrowful face back at him. “You may have killed a piece of me that I once thought still living --- and I may be a glutton for misery and melancholy...”

“BUT why link my haunted soul to you ? I will only INFECT you with the same woe and misery to the point that you will wish you had never asked this of me. I do not even wish for this type of HAUNTING on my worst enemy.” 

[phantombs]

smacks that lil cheek w a kiss in Sephora Lipstories shade #28 (popsicle lips babey)

She kisses him, brash and bold and teasing, and Cường allows it because he’s Cường, their darling, dreamy boy—or as she might think him, at the very least. Does she? He turns his head. Adella’s perfume hangs light in the space they keep, pleasant and charmingly subtle both, and he stares, gaze lingering on lips—vibrant, painted like she’s sucked on cherries. “Adella,” he starts. Adella. “It’s good on you. Pretty. Take it back. I’m not Adella.” And there: he cants his head again as though she can lean in, purse her lips and kiss it back. Darling man. Haven’t you heard? No refunds!

[asundrop]

@lapeirla / @travmsoldat aka the two loves of raps life bastion can eat dirt

Two fingers. 

Two words.

She looks at her teamate with the same kind of intensity one might give the second before charging into battle. The strips of paper are thrown half haphazardly across the floor and she sweeps them out of her way with a bare foot before taking a deep breath. She knows she’s got this (she’s basically been training for this her whole entire life!) and she had absolute trust in the connection she shared with partner.

They would absolutely win! The fate of their LOVE depended on it!

“Anytime princess.” The voice comes from her left and pulls her like a ya-ya back to the task at hand. RIGHT! The game. Got it!

One finger.

First word.

She cups her hand and begins to bite into an imaginary thing. Round in shape. Crisp in taste. She chews the air with delight and swallows.