#namedafterthedawn

[sanctamater]

What is love? What does it mean to be in love

                   Love; noun: an intense feeling of deep affection.  What was love. Love was… Love was a man back in New York with brown eyes and a crooked smile. Love was a man who wore the finest suits and always ran a hand through that curly hair of his. Love was a man who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes and lips that kissed away protestations. Love was a man who had taken her to bed with promises of a wedding ring, and love was a man who had left her in the spring.  Hate was was an emotion she was far more familiar with. Rage bubbled within her stomach, cracking bleeding heart wide open and regrowing the delicate organ back blackened and twisted. It had clawed its way up from the abyss, with dirt caked between talons and malice spitting from his lips.  It had simmered, twining itself with lust like a ribbon; catastrophe had followed. So with shards of her heart in one hand had she found another; a very last hope.                                                       (Wake up, little girl.)  Marriage had changed her, hardened her. For the briefest of instances had the Prophet softened her, giving all that she wanted with one broad gesture. Redemption, forgiveness, a new life, security, and a husband. Harsh angles and gaze had melted, offering smiles full of light as heart swelled with a chorus of angels! So eagerly had she handed him the bleeding, stitched together mess, only to watch as he turned from saint to the Devil himself.   Kind smiles turned wolfish, smiling eyes hardened into scowls. This man, this hardened man was not the man she adored.  So she matched him; piece of ice for ice and glare for glare. A couple crafted of stone were they, full of holy rage and might. So she had watched as that same hand that had been extended to her destroyed men and women who dared to oppose him, dropping them into mass graves with little care or remorse.  Smile slipped ever so slowly.                                  The light died in her eyes.  A child had been demanded of her, no child had come. Every night he came; regardless of her state and unfeeling in his ways. It hurt her. What was worse, seeing him flinch from her gentle, tiny hands or the cruel way he treated her?   Ever dutiful, she strove to make him smile.  What was love? Love was a sacrifice. It was putting your own happiness behind you for the sake of another.

#dont fucking touch me #🕊️❝ sanctify them by truth: your word is truth ( headcanons. ) #🕊️❝ SHE SPEAKS IN CHANNELS ! ( answered. ) #namedafterthedawn

[undyingmother]

My dearest Gothel, It has been so long since I have last heard from you! I hope all is well in Luxembourg and that you and his grace are having a marvelous time. Things have been quiet for the moment. Mother is slowly starting to do more, the harvest is growing, and Jim is back in space unfortunately. OH! Jim proposed to me while he was here! Is that not the most wonderful thing? I can still hardly believe…sometimes I wonder if it is all a dream. I suppose you will be next, probably soon! I truly hope you are well, hopefully you can visit here soon again! Always, Aurora

— namedafterthedawn

Aurora,

I'm actually not in Luxembourg at the moment. I'm in the countryside of Germany. We're visiting Theodore's close family. I can't understand it being too quiet. For you it's too quiet and for me it's too busy. I can hardly get a moment to myself. If only we could switch for a day.

Yes, Jim told me in an earlier letter about your engagement. Congratulations, darling. I'm very happy for you. As for myself, Theodore has mentioned marriage but I don't think he is going to propose anytime soon. I somewhat hope that's the case.. As much as I love Theodore, I imagine I'll need at least a year to get used to this society before I could even think about marriage. Plus the thought of being a Grand Duchess continues to plague me.

Yes, we must definitely catch up soon. When I'm through with this meeting, we'll have to get together and have drinks. God knows I need one. Anyway, please excuse my attitude that must be burning through this paper, I've had a bit of a rough time with my presented situation. Again, very happy for you and Jim and I'll soon look for a wedding gift to give you. I too hope you are well and I look forward to seeing you.

-Gothel

ps: also excuse my atrocious handwriting.

#namedafterthedawn

[extraordinarymelody]

Aurora practically skipped up to Melody, her grin lighting up her whole face as she did so. "Melody! I have something special to ask of you. Would you do me the honor of being a handmaiden in my wedding?"

              Melody tried to find the right words. "O-OF COURSE ARE you kidding me? It would be an absolute honor."

#{ message in a bottle } #namedafterthedawn

[travmsoldat]

☆

HEADCANONS FOR YOU !

When the fairies told Aurora to "pick berries", it wasn't the first time they used that excuse to hide a surprise from her, given that the cottage is super small. She picked up on it eventually when they'd rush her out of the cottage saying "pick this" and "pick that." ~

She picked up on all the habits of the good fairies, and sometimes when she wants to distract people away from something (like a handmaid) she'll say "go do this" in the same fashion the fairies would tell her to pick berries. When she gets mad, also, for example, she does the cute little huff/hip wiggles that Merryweather does.

Despite having a lovely singing/humming voice, she really can't whistle. Phillip, who is a canon proficient whistler, tried to teach her a few times buuuut it never happened.

She had a veeeery hard time learning to ride horses at first when she transitioned into palace life, even if all animals love her and all that stuff. She still visits her forest friends every week! She has names for them and everything.

The cottage was expanded a bit and converted to a small home for orphaned children until they could find proper homes. Aurora and the good fairies visit and stay there a few days every Summer.

#namedafterthedawn #asks #reply #ask

[captainmaugrim]

Do you remember your father? What do you remember of him?

"I can only remember so much," he began, looking down at his paws as he thought. It had been a long time since he'd thought about his father. "He was the head of the pack...maybe not the best leader, but he made sure that everyone was safe and had their share. I don't remember much else about his personality, but I do remember what he looked like. He has this sort of...steel gray coat like he was made of armor. I can't remember his name though or if he thought much of me. I didn't know him for very long before he died...was killed."

#Answered Howls #namedafterthedawn

[lestroisblondes]

Are you close to your father? Which one resembles him the most in personality?

"We used to be close, because papa passed away some years ago.”

Desiree resembles him the most, they both think before they act.

#asks #namedafterthedawn

[fairmaiden-ofnottingham]

A Foreign Intruder || Aurora and Maid Marian

Marian's heart pounded in her chest as she looked around the darkening forest.  Despite the fear that began to swell in her, she kept a calm composure and urged her horse on, scanning each tree for something new, anything that would tell her that she wasn't going in circles.  But as the sun began to disappear behind the trees' shaded leaves, the darkness made this possibility harder and harder and Marian's urgency to find shelter only increased. 

A chill breeze made her beautiful brown hair dance around her shoulders, causing the maiden to pull her cloak tighter around her.  Despite her noble status in England, she had come to Germany for a different reason, a more humble reason, and her wardrobe reflected the meekness of her purpose.  Armed with her trusty bow and dagger, she wielded the freedom and independence of a commoner, which in most cases was a relieving experience.  But in this case, the lady couldn't help but wish she had not allowed her desire for independence to rule over her sense of reason...and direction. 

Marian's chest heaved up and down now as she looked anxiously from one tree to the next to the next.  The birds and animals of the forest were disappearing with the sun and time was just about out to find the town where she should have been hours ago. 

"Oh help me, Father," she whispered with desperation and reverence, "I am in great need of a miracle to amend my foolishness." 

As if in answer to her prayer, the maiden's eyes suddenly caught sight of a strange sight in the distance.  Whatever it was, it was covered by the thickness of the trees, but it was different, different than the same old scenery she had spent hours wandering through.  With a gentle kick of her leg, she urged her horse forward and squinted to get a better look.  The crunching of leaves echoed through the forest as the horse's hooves pressed against the ground, wandering closer and closer to the sight of hope. 

With sudden recognition, Marian's eyes widened and she gasped in relief.  "A roof!" she exclaimed as fear faded from her weary body.  "Oh, thank you Lord!"  With a harder kick, she commanded her horse into a run and galloped with haste towards her safety.

The roof belonged to a quaint cottage that looked just big enough to hold a small family, and certainly one who wished to remain hidden.  The walls were made of a firm stone and held several wooden windows.  No smoke rose from the stone chimney and not a single window was open, but that was no discouragement to the lost maiden.  With a sparkle of hope in her eyes, she jumped down from her horse and tied the reigns to a nearby post.  By now, the sun had completely set below the horizon and nothing but the moonlight guided her path to the door. 

After a deep, quick breath, Marian gently knocked on the door and waited.  Several long seconds passed and no sound was heard.  She knocked again, but alas, nothing.  From what she could tell of the cottage, it was empty, and in fact quite abandoned.  Usually, the lady would never be so rude as to let herself in uninvited, but in the desperation of the situation and in her exhaustion, she felt that this boldness was her only choice.  With a bit of force, she pushed the door open and entered the dark house. 

It took a moment for Marian's eyes to adjust to the new darkness, but once they did, she immediately began to search for candles.  She soon found some and lit enough of them to feel comfortable and safe in her temporary shelter.  The light of the candles revealed exactly the type of interior that she would expect.  The inside of the cottage was just as quaint as the outside and she couldn't help but smile as she walked slowly across the creaking floor and studied each little nook of the home. 

Yes, it would do very nicely for the night, she was confident, and in her security, Marian took off her dirt stained cloak and began to make herself at home. 

#namedafterthedawn #threads

[sanctamater]

What is the one thing in life you would not sacrifice for the sake of religion?

  A penitent woman was humble. A penitent woman bowed before her Lord God and husband without question, eager to be absolved and forgiven for all sins cast upon her name like stones before a whore; and sin she had. Rouged lips had whispered promises that she never intended to keep into ears, had kissed along the curves of spines and the hollows of necks. Elegant hands had wandered, tugging at shirtsleeves and fumbling with many a button in their youth; always touching, always feeling. Such earthly delights had not sparked an ounce of joy in stony heart, yet the consequences had made her week.  Whore.  Written across her brow like a scarlet letter was the word that had been written in rags and carried upon the sharp and vile tongues of others. From promising young lady to Whore of Babylon had she fallen, anointed in red dress and tight corset. Yet she kept on; for habits died hard and life seemed so unappealing when she was not the centre of attention.                           Whore.                                Whore.                                      WHORE.                                                 (What is she doing here?)                  (Look at her; how disgusting!)                                           (I know what that mouth of yours could do!)  Empire had crumbled around her like sand, and she had found herself alone. So tears had fallen; smudging lead paint and revealing that rotting core of hers and frozen heart that no man could thaw. So the temptress had frozen over, and who had yet again turned her from ice and snow to flesh and blood?  Comstock.  Carefully had he lifted her from perdition, taking her false words (for why would any man allow a WHORE into the New Eden?) into his heart and her tear-stained face into his hands, dunking the Great Whore into the river and allowing her to emerge as something pure. So she allowed herself to feel.                     (God has a plan for you, sweet sinner.)                                                   Her heart had beaten for his teachings.                                                                 And then it had beaten for him.   For God had granted her Prophet sight, and even the Lord loved the woman who still swung her hips and rouged her cheeks like a common streetwalker! But the Lord was merciful, her Prophet was merciful; second chances were bread and butter, and ever hungry was she. So greedily had she gobbled up every inch of his mercy, of his teachings.  And then she married him.  He had given her everything. Such faith and belief was resolute; a candle that could ne’er be shaken. So flesh and blood morphed to marble and plaster, a perfection from which no man could find the flaws that still haunted her in her nightmares.  She owed him everything.                     (Good God, let me give you my life!)  Through owing him everything, she owed him her life. No; if her candle was not to waver, then let the good Lady A. Comstock die a martyr. 

#ash i love u thank u for this #🕊️❝ sanctify them by truth: your word is truth ( headcanons. ) #long post for ts #🕊️❝ SHE SPEAKS IN CHANNELS ! ( answered. ) #namedafterthedawn

[paintingtherosesforyou-blog-blog]

Little thing

"Has your hair always been this -- curly?" Inspecting it closely she took a strand between her friends, straightening it before fascinatingly watch it bounce back into place. "Hmmph," Alice said, taking a step back as she admired the golden hair. "I wonder . . . do you happen to know the White Queen? Queen of Wonderland -- She has the same hair as you, except for it's white and --" She went on to continue before remembering that she wasn't supposed to talk about that. Especially with strangers. The little girl sighed in the utmost manner, like it was a great tragedy that she'd have to pull herself away from such a riveting conversation.

"Mother expect me back to tea now . . . but you really ought to tell me what happened to your hair to make it so."

#curiousity killed the cat #namedafterthedawn

[undyingmother]

⊕

Pros:

I would feel I have a child to snuggle in bed with again

It would be the first time actually cuddling with someone while sleeping in years

I think you would play with my hair and it would feel nice

Cons:

You would probably take up the whole bed, not calling you fat or anything, you just seem like someone who would claim the whole bed for herself

#namedafterthedawn

[extraordinarymelody]

A New Beginning || Drabble

            Melody paced around the spacious room, her heels clicking and echoing off the crown molding, a trail of golden fabric danced  to a fast beat between the mountain of her feet. Her eyes were dull and her fingers tapped rhythmically on her abdomen until she was reminded to stop again. Someone was always reminding her of something. Your Majesty please eat -- your majesty you mustn’t bite your nails -- your Majesty you must -- Your majesty -- Throughout this dreadful week there had been an abundance of things she needed to be reminded of, or reminded to be. In truth there had always been this vision of the raven-haired girl on the throne, for although she detested it she knew it was inevitable, but to think that a day such as that would come during her seventeenth year had been unfathomable to the girl.

                                 Her   Father    was     dead.

            His blood still stained the ancient rugs in the dining room and the smell of iron and rust was so strong in the air, Melody doubted it would ever fade. A silver dagger was found lying a few feet from his body, and his new wife and child nowhere to be found. Her mouth shifted from a downward turn to a straight-line periodically throughout the day as she went through the motions of grief, unsure if she was truly feeling them. People hurried passed in blurs, waving color clothes in front of their faces to shield from their glimmering cheeks. The sky was cloudy, as if the puffs of grey had smothered the light out and taken everything good away.

            She tasted chalk, as she tried to utter out each word, now standing in front of everyone she cared about, their solemn faces staring back at her. Ariel and Eric were in the first row, silently reminding her of what she accepted when she entered this position; for while she could change the monarchy system slightly there was no way it would totally bend to her will. Aurora and Cindy sat a few row behind them, their golden strands too brilliant to have missed. Melody gave a rare smile as her blue orbs rested upon  the most important people in the room. The monocled man and the dark haired woman that she knew so well filled her with the warmest feeling -- because in this mess of sadness they let her know that while she was lonely she was never truly alone.

     But she was alone, for with a blink the figures disappeared, having never existed in the first place. And she was left alone in the cold room, but their essence and reminders did not flee with the figures. Words flew from the priest’s holy mouth and after too many moments of silence he placed a platinum crown upon her head, sprinkled with ocean gems. She turned around to face the solemn staff, a weary expression upon her features, for perhaps she was truly home -- and set to embark upon a new beginning that she was sure was to shape her for the rest of her days.

#undyingmother #thegrandpompouswindbag #isingofthesea #namedafterthedawn #stillamemberofthisfamily #{ I tagged you if you were mentioned : 3 } #{ anyway this is why I've been posting verses } #{ so like { v; the calme before the storm } is pre this } #{ and } #{ v; everything has changed } #{ is after } #{ I did this is avoid continually self-interaction #as well as provide another kingdom to visit } #{ and allow her to accept gothel/duke as parents without guilt } #{ long post } #{ vital } #{ the devil's in the details } #long post #{ drabble }

[travmsoldat]

The Outlook is Rosy

       ⦗ ✠ ⦘There was only one thing Phillip loved and waited for every year. Not Christmas, not the Harvest Festivals, not even the pretty Portuguese princess that recently took annual visits to Carolingia. Nope. It was Oktoberfest, the 20-day long fair in Aurora's kingdom that was filled with nothing but eating, making silly gambles at horse races, and of course drinking. He went there every year since he was sixteen, and no doubt this one, ten years later, had to be made into something special. God Bless King Stefan, or whoever decided to start the festival in the first place.

       He dressed as informally as he could for the occasion, blending well with not only his fellow higher-ups, but also amongst the commonfolk of Swabia. It was with them that he indulged his drinking the most because, like his good father Hubert always said, his cup must never be empty for a second. Phillip retained his liquor extraordinarily well, but like everyone else in the world there was a point where his senses would dull and his words would become far less practiced. The merry stirring got the best of him, but it wasn't like he was putting up too much of a fight in the first place. Not that! His playful, free-spirited nature would never allow that.

       He raised yet another glass and his voice too, as it towered over the others going into the chant.

                         "May the road rise to meet you.                           May the wind be always at your back.                           May the sun shine warm upon your face.                           And rains fall soft upon your fields.                           And until we meet again,                           May God hold you in the hollow of His hand."

#THE FUTURE IS BRIGHT #we're pretending something like Oktoberfest happened all those years ago #the outlook is rosy #namedafterthedawn

[captainmaugrim]

❅

❅ - keeping warm/keeping cool techniques

Warmth: Wolf

Grim is quite keep on huddling up to others for warmth and comfort. If he doesn’t have someone to curl up against he curled tightly into himself and makes sure to cover up his nose with his tail. He’s actually quite a warm thing and radiates a pretty impressive amount of heat on his own. Of course, during the winter and cold months he has a thick winter coat to help him out.

Warmth: Human

Grim will seek out shelter and company to keep warm. He’s fond of soft, warm, clothes in these situations, but blankets are still preferable since they make him feel less constricted. He’s just as open to “dog-piling” for warmth in this form and doesn’t understand why people look at him weird when he requests platonic cuddling when it’s particularly cold.

Keeping Cool: Wolf

Grim was never fond of swimming, but if it’s really hot he will occasionally wade out into streams to have a brief cool down. He also likes to rest under the shade of trees or the cool rocks beneath the shade since they always seem so much cooler. He’s also shedding up a storm, which helps with the whole not being too hot thing.

Keeping Cool: Human

As with then he’s a wolf, Grim likes to cool down in shallow waters and hang out in the shade. He doesn’t have to worry about shedding in these situations, so that’s an added bonus. He also likes to eat ice cubes, which he doesn’t always have access to out in the woods, especially not during the hot, summer, months. There’s plenty of ice in the winter, but it’s not much use to him at that point.

#Headcanon #namedafterthedawn #Answered Howls

[fairerthansnow]

((What is Elsa's biggest goal, dream, aspiration?))

{❄} 

I would say one of Elsa's biggest goals is to repay the kingdom of Arendelle by being a worthy queen. After all, the citizens had seen some of her darkest moments (like when she ran off on the night of her coronation) and they welcomed her back with open arms. She also wants to live up to her mama and papa, since she is continuing their legacy through her rule.

#headcanons #namedafterthedawn

[fairestofallx]

#((OMG BFFS FOREVER K?!))#((german princess buddies))

outofapples;; WE'LL EAT STRUDEL AND GOSSIP AND LAUGH AT PEASANTS.

#outofapples; #namedafterthedawn