versaillesbee - Tumblr blog

[versaillesbee]

[versaillesbee]

rewarding myself with food every time I finish a task>>>>

[versaillesbee]

WE FOUND THEM GUYS

Thank goodness oh my gosh. They were in a backup I had previously disregarded

finally I can rest

fuckkkkkk I lost my writing notes AGAIN. I had all types of fantasy spells and lore I created written down and now they’re just gone. I must have moved them but I have NO IDEA where and I use so many different apps and websites to keep all of my notes they’re gonna be impossible to find I’m crying real tears

(no I’m not I’m lying)

[versaillesbee]

Katara 🌕!!!

This urge to draw her probally came from the new atla live action. Idk if it's going to be good by my expectations are lowering with every new information we get. And i hate the whole art direction of the series. And don't even get me started on the costumes.

But putting that aside, ever since i watched atla 2 years ago, i couldn't wait to draw all the characters in digital medium ( : And here I am, finnaly doing so.

The patterns, tattos and jewerly are inspired by inuit coulture ( i know its not really accurate).

Anyway, I hope you like this piece

[versaillesbee]

Be furious.

Be absolutely enraged.

Images put together by wearthepeace on Instagram, found them here

[versaillesbee]

Found these but lost other ones SAVE ME

it’s for one of my fanfics where Lizzie and Hope have a lil affair and live in domestic bliss behind her husband’s back PLEASE LORD

fuckkkkkk I lost my writing notes AGAIN. I had all types of fantasy spells and lore I created written down and now they’re just gone. I must have moved them but I have NO IDEA where and I use so many different apps and websites to keep all of my notes they’re gonna be impossible to find I’m crying real tears

(no I’m not I’m lying)

[versaillesbee]

where does the trauma end and I begin?

[versaillesbee]

Hello! my fundraising is slow, my time is limited, I don't have enough reach, I really need your help, could you help me spread the word or donate what you can?

I need medication for life to prevent my lungs from collapsing, this implies permanent treatment with steroids, oxygen therapy, control of oxygen in the blood and antibiotics to prevent the development of bacteria in the lungs.

I'm afraid I have to insist on this because it may be the only way to get my treatment.

I need medication for life to keep my lungs from collapsing, this costs around $700 per month.

Things are really tough on me,I can’t afford. Please donate🖤

Oh my love I’m sorry I can’t donate but hopefully posting this can lead you to someone who can. Please help this person out if you can!

[versaillesbee]

The United States of America, Germany, Britain and France support the terrorist Zionist-Israeli entity and have made the children of Gaza a testing ground for their destructive weapons.

[versaillesbee]

The amount of "what's a reblog gonna do" responses to the global strike for Palestine/Gaza, disgust me. YOUR REBLOG IS GOING TO SPREAD AWARENESS. You are uplifting the voices of those lost and grieving from this heinous genocide. You're NOT being asked to march in the streets of the Gaza Strip. Your reblog, matters. It echoes through screens and radiates through the airwaves. Don't let them be forgotten simply because you're choosing complacency over a 10 second effort of a reblog. Silence is betrayal. Complacency is death.

For Palestine/Gaza!

[versaillesbee]

sim just had a baby and they immediately tried to give it to Vladislaus who is a nurse??? at the hospital???

[versaillesbee]

I’ve been looking for this methan fancam to “are we still friends” for like months WHERE IS IT

[versaillesbee]

This is a beautiful way to think of it— you just changed my whole perspective on self insert stories

more than i even like self inserts i love the power of the second person perspective. like from a literary standpoint, the discomfort of you is so deeply appealing to me. it forces the reader to engage with a story in a way it is not required from other perspectives. i like it literature and in video games and in art. i like when a story challenges my concept of self and tells me: forget everything. this is a story about you (disambiguation)

[versaillesbee]

fuckkkkkk I lost my writing notes AGAIN. I had all types of fantasy spells and lore I created written down and now they’re just gone. I must have moved them but I have NO IDEA where and I use so many different apps and websites to keep all of my notes they’re gonna be impossible to find I’m crying real tears

(no I’m not I’m lying)

[versaillesbee]

Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish

[versaillesbee]

being asexual and experiencing arousal is sooooo weird cause like I’ll be feeling it physically but it won’t really translate mentally especially when I’m intoxicated cause I’ll be standing there and 30 minutes later it’ll click like OH that’s why my cooter cat is throbbing

[versaillesbee]

WIP

Hayley has nightmares about it still.

That morning, that night— the hours blurred between waking and death, wandering and grieving. It started in the wee hours, just before the sun rose and joined the moon as it faded into the sky.

She remembers the smells. She remembers the sounds.

Bits and pieces of gravel pricking her hands from when she managed to scramble away, only to be caught and dragged into the church on her back. The scent of rain hanging in the air, another storm on the horizon. She remembers the high ceilings and the wooden arches, plaster and concrete echoing her screams back at her. Klaus’ voice reverberating as he called for her accompanied by her baby’s cries before it all just… went away.

Unbeknownst to her, Klaus had enlisted Davina to place a protection spell on her, one Elijah witnessed in use by Sabine.

She remembers the silence when she woke up in the church, covered in sweat and blood. How it felt when life punched its way through her chest, but not without the reminder of what death had been like in the soreness of her muscles, the stiffness in her bones. It took her body a second to realise it was… back. That she was alive. Awake.

There was a hollowness that greeted her during her introduction back to life. It took the place of that fluttering feeling that she was used to. The one that created an ache in her ribs with the downward pull and a pressure in her pelvis as her due date neared. The one that told her the baby was still there, still alive, growing everyday and moving about inside her.

Where is her baby?

A dark thought had grown in her mind before the memories had barreled back in. That maybe she had lost her in the pool that night, that it was all a dream. Or maybe the baby didn’t make it after the birth and they had put her back to sleep so she wouldn’t have to endure the stress of it. Or maybe they killed them both right then and there.

But then she remembered seeing her. Holding her. This pale, screaming thing covered in blood and vernix, looking up at her with clouded grey eyes. How she fussed and flailed in her arms, shrinking from the candles and flourescents. She remembers seeing so much of Klaus in her, and then the look on his face, the tears shining in his eyes as he looked down at them.

Their little creation. A perfect mix so small and tiny she barely fit in the crook of her arm. She’d been so afraid. It was too soon. Too soon for the contractions, too soon for her water to break.

But there she was anyway, seemingly healthy and kicking like a goat.

And then they took her away. First the witches and then her father.

For 8 months all Hayley had of her daughter was memories. Dreadful, violent memories.

The blood shed at her birth from rolling heads and slit throats and Klaus promising and delivering on rivers of it flowing from their enemies.

The attempted sacrifice at dawn when vengeful spirits stood between the mother and the newborn, waiting for her to join them on the other side mere hours after her birth.

The time spent afterwards when Hayley held her and shared in her cries, trying to feed her with milk that hadn’t yet come in, changing her with diapers that wouldn’t fit.

How Klaus had taken her out of Hayley’s arms, with pursed lips and glossy eyes, and spirited her away.

Every night for 8 months she dreamt of it all; sleepless nights turning into days wracked with grief, with worry not knowing where in the world her baby was. For 8 months she did not see her child. She did not get to see her grow, to hear her babble and cry, to see her gummy smile and hear her laugh. For 8 months all she had of her daughter was that day. All she had of motherhood was that day.

So when Dahlia tells her she is pregnant again, Hayley breaks.