Manorian family fluff

This fic started as one of @itach-i‘s headcanons, and she told me I could write it out! I consider it a continuation of my first Manorian family fluff post you can find here.

[A Long Day - Gratuitous Manorian Family Fluff]

It was nearly eight o’clock by the time Dorian Havilliard entered his royal chambers. He’d spent the last few days in tedious end-of-year fiscal meetings going over Adarlan’s various budgets. He was mentally exhausted.

He crossed the ornate common room and padded through a door that led to he and Manon’s private rooms. Once inside, he crossed the small seating area to Gavin’s room. He gently opened the door. The dim lamp light from the hall softly illuminated his son’s face. Gavin was fast asleep. A tiny, stuffed wyvern tucked into his arms.

Dorian smiled, and shut the door. He hated when he missed bedtime.

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English Gold Noble, King Edward III, London mint, C. 1369-1377

The obverse with Edward standing on the deck of a ship, facing the viewer and brandishing sword and shield, decorated with coat of arms of England and France. The legend reading: EDWARD DEI GRA REX AIIGL’ 7 FRAIIC D hYB. The reverse with ornate cross with lis at ends and E in center, surrounded by crowned lions. The legend reading:  +IhC AVTEm TRAIISIEIIS P mEDIVm ILLORVm IBAT.

The obverse image of Edward within a ship is believed to have originally been designed to commemorate the famous Battle of Sulys, one of the opening clashes of the Hundred Years War and one of England’s earliest and most famous naval victories. In the brutal hand-to-hand fighting Edward was wounded by a crossbow bolt, yet he ultimately led the English in a crushing victory against the supposedly superior French fleet. Such was the scale of the victory that for years afterwards the English joked the fish were speaking French because of the number of bodies in the sea. No doubt those who handled this coin were reminded of the jest and the scale of this momentous victory.

greaterdog  asked:

what do you think the sword in the Monster title might symbolize?

Well… It’s not only a sword, it’s also the Christian cross. All together — the weapon of a holy warrior. Then, the story of chasing Johan is essentially a story of Tenma’s crusade.

“As befitted the sword’s growing position as a status symbol, the swords of the Crusader knights were easiest distinguished by the design of the hilt and pommel. The simple cross-guard was curved towards the blade and the pommel bore ornate cross-shaped motifs representing the church under which the Crusaders served.”

Stay with Me; Don’t Let Me Go

Inspired by: Ashes of Eden

Sam pursed his lips at the stained glass window above him. It was a myriad of colours, shdes of pink, yellow and blue that all complimented the other. He regarded the ornate cross that hung just below it.

He was faithful, wasn’t he? He was. He prayed to Gabriel every day. And the end was coming. He knew it. He couldn’t fight anymore. Not without Gabriel. He needed him.

 He couldn’t keep up the lie, the lie that he didn’t miss the cocky bastard because he did. He remembered back, back to when Gabriel first cupped his jaw and kissed him, both of them melting into each other’s touch, as if a muscle was being untensed that neither had even noticed was tense.

He remembered every morning when sunlight had streamed through the crack in the curtain and Gabriel had grumbled something that probably wasn’t even English, rolling over and shoving his face under the pillow. He had Sam beside him make a similar noise and a familiar weight rested over his waist, tucking round to his stomach, and he would feel himself be dragged across the bed into Sam’s arms like a teddy bear. Gabriel would out a weak protest as Sam held him. Sam was always cuddliest when he was sleepy, whether it was 7am,midday, or 10pm.

 “G’morning.” Sam would mumble, nosing at Gabriel’s hair, inhaling the coconut scent of his shampoo. Gabriel often tipped his head back slightly and made a noise back that was meant to resemble a greeting. Gabriel was not a morning person. He wiggled in Sam’s grip a little, slotting himself more comfortably against the larger man and Sam chuckled, thumb tracing circles on Gabe’s bare stomach.

And he’d remembered his soul.

 The demon blood.

 Lucifer’s true vessel.

 He wasn’t worthy.

“I’m not worthy of this!” he shouted at Gabriel, hands in fists in his own hair, towering about the angel who looked heartbroken. “I can see my soul, and I am not worthy.” hot tears slid down his cheeks as he saw some on Gabriel’s face too. This was where Sam was wrong. Because Gabriel could see his soul too. And he was thinking the same time. He wasn’t worthy of Sam’s purity, goodness, the lack of selfishness that nearly got him killed time and time again. “You need to leave. Before - before I hurt you.”

 “Is this - Sam - no - baby -”

 “Don’t make me draw an angel repelling sigil.”

A flutter of wings and Gabriel was gone, a golden feather curling to the floor. Sam followed it, knees crashing to the floor as a ragged sob ripped through him.

“Are you with me Gabe?” he whispered, staring at his hands. “cause-” he stopped again, taking in a ragged breath. “If you are, I can’t hear you.” he dropped his head, forehead thudding on the pew. “Are you with me? I can’t feel you Gabriel. I feel like you’ve gone… and I just… I wanted to say something. That I’m sorry. Stay with me Gabriel. I - please, don’t give up on me, don’t let me go.” he looked at his hands, the small silver band still wrapped around his right middle finger, a gift from Gabriel. No, it wasn’t an engagement present but it was similar. “Because without you… there’s nothing left for me. Nothing at all. Dean - he has Cas. I don’t have anyone. And he doesn’t need me. Please just - stay. Don’t let go.” He stood up, leaving the church, not seeing as the weak white sunlight melded into a pale gold.

He didn’t go ‘home’. Nothing was home without Gabriel. He looked up at the sky, the dusk settling in. Soon it’d be nighttime, the darkness would swaddle him, air so thin he couldn’t breath. And the light at the other end would grab his shirt, dragging him toward it, with desperate unbreaking will. Maybe the light was Gabriel. He could hear voice as well, ghosts. Tainted. Boy King. Vesel. My vessel. Boy with the Demon Blood. Soulless. Tainted.


Sam closed his eyes. Nothing left to be afraid of. He peered up at the sky, tears in his eyes, a silent call for his angel. “I’m still calling for you Gabriel. No matter how much you might be trying to ignore me up there. I’m still calling.”

Dreams. Gabriel in front of Sam, hands held out to him.

 “You’re here. Are - are you with me?” Sam stammered, and Gabriel nodded, but no words came out. “I can’t - I can’t hear you.” the Gabriel in front of him shimmered, and he grabbed at his shirt, pulling him closer. “Gabriel, are you with me - I can’t - why can’t I feel you?” he pressed his hand to Gabriel’s cheek. He wasn’t there.

Sam woke up, tears on his face. He wiped them away angrily.

 “Hey kiddo.” he sat up faster than ever, spotting Gabriel standing in the corner of the room, hands in his pockets. Sam flung himself at the angel, hands twisting in his jacket. face burying in the coconut scent hair.

 “Gabriel.” he breathed, lifting him by the thighs and clutching him tighter with a sob. “Stay with me. Don’t - don’t let me go. Cause - fuck, Gabriel, there is nothing left of me when you’re not here, just, please, stay.” Gabriel nodded as they kissed, desperate and messy, the unique taste of the other almost drowned out by the salty taste of tears but neither minded. Gabriel was back.

maad-as-raabbits  asked:

You should totally write one of them just totally watching every move the other makes (totally checking out their ass during training) and them just being so hopelessly in love that Roxy and Merlin are just finally like "WE GET IT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER BUT STOP STARING IT'S GETTING ANNOYING"

The gun was still hot in his hand as Eggsy lowered his arm, all six rounds successfully landed in the first two rings on the target.

“Well done, Galahad,” Merlin praised, scribbling something on a clipboard. “Lancelot, you’re up next.”

Roxy took a breath and nodded, stepping forward and taking the gun from Eggsy as he passed. He gave her a grin which she returned with a small smile, taking her place at the end of the range. She slipped on her safety glasses and loaded the gun, glancing behind her briefly to look at Merlin. He was standing with his hands behind his back, a frown of concentration on his face, nodding once at her in encouragement. Her lips twitched.

She aimed down range, one eye squeezed shut, letting out a breath slowly and carefully, measured. As her breath left her, she fired the gun a quick six times, recovering from the recoil with ease. She lowered the gun with parted lips, looking down range. All six were within the first ring. Three a perfect bullseye.

“Very good, Lancelot!” Merlin was actually smiling as he walked to stand next to her. She turned to smile at him, proud, disarming and putting the safety back on the gun as she set it down. His hand touched her shoulder, rubbing there casually in what could easily be written off as praise. But Roxy knew better. She sighed, leaning towards him almost imperceptibly.

“They’re at it again,” he muttered, leaning closer to speak under his breath and look at her from over the top of his glasses.

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