#King Phillip's War

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Andy's love for and dedication to this history has shone throughout this series. You really feel it, and it just makes these videos extra special.

Also, s/o to Embracehistoria for those maps.

[pistachio-2]

tourists visiting massachusetts looking at the attractions

[theaterchemy2]

The lack of a winter Kamen Rider crossover movie has got me thinking that we don’t really need a Gavv x Gotchard crossover.

Gotchard’s story ended in a way that makes it difficult to create an epilogue that can also cross over into Gavv’s currently ongoing narrative. Bias for Gotchard aside, the story ending with Houtaro and Rinne’s graduation ends up creating a bookend for Gotchard’s story as a whole. Things can happen in between the TV show finale and the VCinema, but unless Hasegawa and the writing team are expecting to ass-pull a threat that was on par or worse than Geryon is unlikely. And even then, how would that connect to Gavv’s narrative? They just killed Sheeta, and there hasn’t really been a narrative break that you could slot the crossover into. Jeep’s out for revenge, and Nylev’s conspiring with Suga about something. I guess you could have Rango or Glotta doing something, but usually the movie’s there to feature a celebrity guest. Like the only thing I could see being a hook for Gavv is Lage9 becoming Vram in a post-credits scene.

The continuity snarl just makes all the recent winter movie lineups just so… off. In Revice x Saber, Touma had already given his sword back to the Sword of Logos, but now he has it again? And Geats x Revice makes no sense from a timeline perspective. Somehow the Igarashis had a fourth kid in the three months since the end of Revice, okay, a bit of a leap, but okay. Then the villains of the Revice side of the story are… what exactly? They’re… aliens. They’re not even demons? You know, the whole motif of Revice? Of ALL the reasons to have Ikki resurrect Vice and become Revice again, it’s ALIENS?! Not like a Giff cultist leftover? Hell, you could even use Orteca as the villain and have him actually matter! But nah. ALIENS! And they’re just working for the villain of the Geats side of the story, Colus, a former Game Master of the DGP. Colus’s inclusion in the movie makes way more sense than just ALIENS. Oh, and Keiwa also has an inner demon. This won’t matter until the last arc of Geats, but… LOOK! KEIWA WITH AN EARRING! Oh, and Michinaga’s not dead, but he was supposed to be dead in the Jyama Gardens… weren’t the DGP on a manhunt for Ace? Wasn’t Giroli fired as Game Master? Oh, Michinaga’s dead again. Bye bye, Tinkywinky~

Honestly, the winter movies really took a narrative dive when they stopped using the Movie Wars format with Ghost x Drive. Drive’s main story ended with Mr. Belt sealing himself away and all Roimudes eliminated. And both VCinemas feel narratively satisfying, Chase’s story being a side story that fits in with Drive’s timeline, and the Heart/Mach story acting as the epilogue after Shinnosuke’s retired from being a Rider and Gou’s making plans to resurrect Chase (and possibly Heart, Brain, and Medic). But then for the Ghost crossover, the Roimude commanders and Chase are resurrected as a part of a butterfly effect only to disappear once more when the time travel un-travels, ON TOP OF Mr. Belt waking himself up for the final fight only to go back to sleep. That’s also not accounting for Heisei Generations 1, where Gaim crashes into the sealed Drive Pit to wake up Mr. Belt AGAIN just so we can have the five Riders fighting together. Narratively, having Drive the Rider show up in a crossover where he’s not a summon makes no sense and is unsatisfying.

Speaking of unsatisfying, Reiwa the First Generation. OH BOY MORE TIME TRAVEL! Oma Zi-O Sougo reset the timeline as well as his and his friends’ powers, so now he, Geiz, and Tsukuyomi are all normal teens. But wait, no, we need their original personalities for the crossover! Oh, and the Zi-O villain is… a Super Time Jacker Swartz had left over from before he died. Sure. The changes in the timeline make sense because Another Zero-One, but then after the final fight between Sougo and Aruto (???), the Zi-O trio are back to being ordinary high schoolers without powers? And they get their powers back for the Geiz VCinema and whatever the hell Inoue was cooking for the Decade VS Zi-O specials.

OH WAIT, HEISEI GENERATIONS FOREVER! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! HOW MANY TIMELINES ARE THERE NOW?!

The recent Sentai crossover VCinexts, too. What is happening? The last Sentai crossover movie that I actually enjoyed was probably Kiramager VS Ryusoulger, only because the story makes sense. It’s set after Ryusoulger’s ending, but during the events of Kiramager, and each character being present works with how the former ended and how the latter’s narrative worked. Okay. Cool. Surely they can keep that up for the rest of the Reiwa era, right?

Zenkaiger VS Kiramager: I thought that Zenkaiger established that each Sentai had their own world? But now the Kiramagers are just here? Oh, and why are all the Sentai Reds from Gokaiger up to Ryusoulger here? (RIP to Shishi Red’s suit).

Donbrothers VS Zenkaiger: Okay, Tarou’s done being the leader because he lost his memories- no, wait, he’s back. And Jirou being leader now makes sense, i guess- why is he a dick now? Didn’t his two personalities work things out? Oh, they killed Sonoi… No, it’s okay, it’s fine, I’m FINE WITH THIS! And now Zocks is the main antagonist, no, wait, why is there a Wald? DIdn’t all the Tojiru Gears get destroyed? At least we got Stacey and Hakaiser in the roll call…

King-Ohger VS Donbrothers: Uh huh. The Donbrothers are just… on Terra. No space travel or anything. At least they resolved Sonoi’s unsatisfying death- IT’S GII!

King-Ohger VS Kyoryuger: So… they reset the world of King-Ohger to put Gira in evil clothing. And Daigo just happened to be there when Jeramie was finishing his retelling of the main King-Ohger narrative so he can pull the Gaburimix Shooter out of nowhere to restore the kings’ memories. I think King-Ohger in Space made more sense- wait, why is Tsurugi here? Wasn’t Kyuranger in another universe from the main Sentai world? Oh hey, Kingranger’s here, cool.

Hell, any time the Gokaigers have appeared after the end of the TV show in 2012 with all the Ranger Keys again just… doesn’t make sense? Did they make time to go and collect all the keys one by one? How did they do that in Go-Busters VS Gokaiger? It makes more sense in Strongest Battle, since we see Akaranger lending Marvelous his key, but then in Ten Gokaiger, how does the government have the keys from the Go-Busters to Kiramager teams if they’ve been fighting all these other threats?

Back to the main point, I don’t really see any way that a Gavv x Gotchard could conceivably work, and part of me is relieved that we won’t. You can’t bring back the Sisters, because then what was the point of their deaths? There’s no way there’s another evil alchemist that no one knew about, since the Alchemist Union is basically rebuilt without the three stooges from the main story. And with how the Stomach company is set up, there’s no way Rango is hiding another unknown sibling or family member to act as the main antagonist. Not when the former is willing to throw out his own siblings if they’re not working hard enough. (I can see Dente going “Oh, yeah. Them. I forgot about them for a hot minute. Anyway, they’re SUPER evil, be careful Shouma. Want a potato chip?”)

Taka from Kotetsu Toys Japan made a good point about the Outsiders event - the impact of certain characters showing up in the miniseries or in contexts that don’t make narrative sense lessens the actions that happen to them in their home series. What was the point of Fuwa’s death (?) if Horobi’s back? Why did Evolt choose now of all times to return? Desast is back, but so is Brain? Wasn’t he still being restored by Gou? Why’s the Orphenoc King there? GODDAMNIT GENM’S BACK AGAIN?!

[yanderefarm]

yandere butler introduction

cw;; violence, age gap, nsfw, mommy kink, public sex

His name is Phillip Hemlock and he's 52 years old.

He's been serving your family ever since you left for boarding school and is incredibly loyal to them.

Before becoming a butler he was a sorcerer's slave and he would be experimented on regularly. This is where the scars around his neck come from.

The scar on his chest used to be a branding but when he escaped he scratched it out himself.

He's actually a talented sorcerer as well but he's never received an education for it.

He has a major soft spot for you especially after your parents untimely death. He's so proud of you for always being strong so he wants to gently take care of you and let you be more childish.

He's good at knowing exactly what you want before you even know you want it. If you're starting to get cold he'll be wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Right when you think you might want a snack he's there with a tray of snacks.

You get treated incredibly gently by him. No one else does.

If a servant makes a mistake they will be forced through vigorous training even if it hurts them until they get it right.

If a noble tries to insult you or makes you uncomfortable they'll receive enough poison to make them incredibly sick.

The only person he can't be hostile towards is King Emil so no matter how much he wants to he's just forced to stand and glare.

He can't get away with killing nobles every time so he does it very sparingly. Only if he feels they've done something unforgivable.

He's good at cooking, cleaning, dancing, fighting, and piano. He'll also learn any skill you want so he can entertain you.

Your happiness is the most important thing to him because he loves you so much. He never expects your love in return because he is just a lowly servant but he wants to be by your side forever.

It would hurt but if you did decide to get married to someone but as long as you don't try to elope he'll accept it.

If you try to elope he'll be forced to take drastic measures.

You are the duke of the north in Emil Landorr's kingdom. Your castle stands as a line of defense against the northern monster lands.

It also shares a border with the enemy theocracy but the north is too cold and monster infested to be a point of war.

The previous duke and duchess died in a carriage accident quite randomly but there is some question of the actual randomness of it.

Your castle is a fortress and the second largest in the whole kingdom. Only the king's is bigger.

Not a lot of nobles are willing to brave the cold and the monsters that's why you're not bothered as much by them.

Phillip is the other reason they tend to leave you alone.

nsfw

Phillip really enjoys having his chest played with especially having his nipples sucked. He'd like to gently pet your hair and encourage you to suck more.

He definitely has a little bit of a mommy kink. He's incredibly embarrassed to be called it but it turns him on so much.

He's so embarrassed to want your body he feels like a pervert. At first when his feelings started he swore that his love was pure and innocent. Then one day he accidentally overheard you touching yourself and his view changed.

He likes listening to you touching yourself and slipping his hand into his pants to pretend like you're touching him instead. If he ever heard you say his name while you were in the middle of it he'd cum so quickly.

He struggles sometimes to remain professional while he's bathing you or helping you get dressed. He tries to commit your body to memory for his fantasies later. If you catch him staring he'll be even more embarrassed and ashamed.

Sometimes he uses magic to conjure up a version of you to help him get off.

He has a surprising amount of stamina and resilience for his age. He can ride you.

He's a sadist more than a masochist but he enjoys having his hair pulled.

He'd honestly enjoy any punishment you decide he deserves if that's what you want.

He'd also like to punish you a little bit. Especially if you're reserved and not spoiled, that's a punishable offense in his book.

Loves a spoiled brat darling. You want him to do everything? You want to cling to his chest while he rides you? You want to misbehave and be bossy even when he's in charge? Everything for you.

He likes any position where he can see your face. He dreams of looking into your eyes while you breed him so full and he tells you that you're such a good boy.

He also loves for you to leave embarrassing marks on his neck. He'll cover them up but he likes the danger of it.

He likes public sex for that reason too. Fuck him where the other servants could see their manager being turned into a sloppy whore. He'll be trying so hard to keep quiet while he's almost cumming from every footstep he hears.

He feels like a pervert if you bring up the age gap but it also turns him on to be degraded by a younger man. He's supposed to be mature but here he is a pervy old man getting bred by his beloved master.

[quess-art]

Character Design for Princess Leah, mother of Silver

Design notes & Headcanons!

We very limited information about Leah so most of my choices are headcanons

Her princess design is based on King Henrik's colours which I assume are the colours of royalty

Since the Knight of Dawn's hair colour is Aurora's, Leah's hair is based on Prince Phillip's hair colour

Leah's dress is based on Aurora's and Aurora's mother's dresses in the Sleeping Beauty movie, especially the veil, dress cut, and accessory shape (modelled after Aurora's crown)

As the Princess of Dawn, many see Leah as a kind and beautiful princess who is always surrounded by butterflies attracted to her spirit

Although she isn't unkind, she has a sense of pride and petty vengeance. Many don't know that pretty-looking insects aren't the only critters around her

Like how Silver attracts animals and woodland critters, Leah attracts insects and arthropods. To an extent, she can communicate with these creatures. Thanks to this, crops grown on this land are bountiful and infestations are extremely rare

Leah is usually seen working in the castle so she uses the time surveying farmlands as moments of respite from maintaining the royal image (she also learned a lot of swears due to this)

Almost like Silver, when she sleeps, she's dead to the world. She's gotten used to waking up with her little friends crawling around/on her. When her future-husband was assigned to be her guard, he nearly had a heart attack the first time he saw this

She has 3 creatures she's especially close with: Albert XLI the silk moth, Ravanche the centipede, and Paon the jumping spider. She planted Ravanche multiple times on Henrik when they were younger when he was being stupid or annoying

She almost used her again when she saw Henrik antagonizing her husband but he stopped her. She constantly reminds him that he has already repaid the royal family for taking him in when he was younger but his sense of integrity and knighthood always seeks to repay the kingdom

But she is no knight or fighter. When the war ravaged the lands and fae-human relations broke in part due to Henrik's foolishness, she was separated from her knight and husband throughout the war

[usagi-zakura]

So... there's one thing in Epic the Musical (and I guess the myth that inspired idk never read the Odyssey) that just kinda bothers me...

The people of Ithica says they need a king...they've been without one for 20 years... that's how long its been since Odysseus left for war...

Penelope has a lot of suitors who presumably are trying to get the throne... but that's...not how monarchies work... Maybe its changed in those ancient times but marrying a Queen doesn't make you a King. There's a reason Elisabeth II's husband was called Prince Phillip.

If the King dies or in this case goes missing the throne won't pass to whoever marries his widow. It goes to their eldest son... Telemachus.

Literal children have been crowned king before, Henry VI got crowned at 8 months... and Telemachus should be considered a legal adult even by modern rules, and especially by ancient rules when you're basically considered an adult at 15... He's at least 20...

So why isn't Telemachus just crowned king? Why entertain the suitors at all? Tell them to fuck off, or go bring their daughters instead to ask for Telemachus' hand in marriage..

Or does Ancient Ithica just run on very strange laws of inheritance?

[local-crying-boy]

ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

How they are like in a relationship pt2

Characters included: Alex Keller, Philip Graves, Nikolai, Hadir Karim

A/n: I don’t know a lot about other CoD characters that I have not written this headcannon for, so I apologise for my lack of knowledge and that the others are missing <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alex Keller

Our little American is the sweetest man here.

He’s one respectful, kind and loving man (not like the others aren’t) but he’s the type who just knows what’s going on with you by a simple look

He calls you names like ‘baby’ ‘sweetheart’

He’s got a list of jokes he wants to tell you, and has told you the CIA one a few times in hopes that it does soon become funny

Loves it when you tell him stupid jokes as well

Phillip Graves

Pet names like ‘sweetheart’ ‘honey’ ‘doll’ ‘baby’. Stupid little ones you expect southern Americans to use (for obvious reasons)

He doesn’t like leaving for missions when you and him got together, he wanted to be with you and give you all the love you deserve

So, since he can’t always be there, he would drown you in gifts and affection the minute he got home.

He usually tries to show this all the time, but you know that sometimes he just simply comes back completely and utterly mentally and physically exhausted.

He can’t say much about what he does, but he can still somewhat confine in you (as much as he insists he’s okay)

Nikolai

King of forehead kisses. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He’s talk asf (well, he’s taller than me and I’m short asf), so he can just tower over you and plant soft kisses over your head.

He’s older too, so he’s screaming major respect and being a decent man that you might not find in younger lads (for example the boys my age -.-)

He was also reluctant at first to be with you, his age was one thing as the age gap between you and him was a little too large for his liking.

However, you heavily grew on this man and he couldn’t help but FINALLY admit his feelings.

RUSSIAN NICKNAMES

Most of the time you don’t know what he’s called you, but, hey-ho, at least it’s something.

Has, at least once, insulted you in Russian without you knowing and covered it up as a pet name (you never heard him call you it more than once)

Hadir Karim

Hadir knows how it feels to loose those who are close to him, he’s practically lost his entire family due to the war going on in Urzikstan.

When he first met you, he wasn’t planning on falling in love with you, let alone date you.

However, one things leads to another and the two of you ended up getting together (yipeee)

His worst fear is losing you, after everyone he’s lost, he doesn’t want to lose another.

If you’re a solider, he’s mostly watching out for you when you’re fighting, waiting for the moment that he might have to jump in and make sure you don’t die.

It’s an extreme, of course, he knows you are completely capable of taking care of yourself, but caution didn’t kill the cat, curiosity did, and he’s happy to admit he’s not curious to see if you could survive the worse of the worst.

Speaks little sentences to you in Arabic, he doesn’t care if you understand or not (he hopes that, one day, you’ll be able to catch onto certain phrases and words)

Masterlist

[dear-ao3]

its 3:24 on a saturday morning and my partner and i are passionately discussing about the importance of the king phillips war, the seven years war, the revolutionary war, and the war of 1812 in understanding the american civil war

[perry-the-platypus-f1cs]

FIC IDEAS

AHEM I AM HERE TO CURE THE COD FANFIC WRITERS WHO HAVE WRITERS BLOCK

YANDERE SOAP. please I have not found a SINGLE fanfic about yandere soap I need my deranged boi

2. Necromancer Phillip Graves with his shadows as his thralls/undead soldiers. I'm just think of a silly little fic filled with side quests and dragon fightings stuff

3. warlock Ghost and familiar Soap, spookie bois doin stuff for king Price and lord Garrick fighten wars and stuff :)

4. Naga Gaz and concubine Price. that is all I will say.

5. Cultist Soap falls in love with Catholic Graves . religious trauma ensues.

6. god of death Ghost and god of war Soap.

Happy writing!

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : Fights, battle, deaths, injuries, graphic details of fights, arrow, assault, violence, ANGST ANGST ANGST.

A/N : I promised angst guys, here it is 5.1k of pure action, angst and battle. There will be one last chapter after this one sooo be prepared.

꧁ Chapter 8 : A Warrior’s Cry ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

She moves like spring across the earth

With every step, a song takes birth

Her hair, the dark of twilight skies

Her gaze, the place where heaven lies.

The day began with whispers in the wind, a chill that made the air feel heavier than usual. The distant call of a horn shattered that uneasy calm, echoing through the stone corridors of Ashmore Castle. The castle’s servants paused in their duties, heads turning toward the sound with dread creeping into their hearts.

Anakin stood atop the castle’s walls, gazing out at the fields stretching toward the horizon. What he saw made his blood run cold.

A tide of soldiers moved like a river of death toward the castle — French banners unfurling in the morning light, alongside another sigil that struck him with bitter recognition.

The crest of King Phillip.

Anakin’s chest tightened with rage. He’d known betrayal was inevitable, but seeing it before his eyes — seeing your father march toward Ashmore with war in his heart — was a wound deeper than any sword could inflict.

"Count Aulbry," Anakin growled under his breath, recognizing the man leading the charge.

A soldier ran up to him, panting. “General Skywalker, the gates won’t hold long. The French advance swiftly — with siege engines. We are outnumbered.”

Anakin’s eyes never left the battlefield. His voice was steady, but his heart was pounding. “Sound the alarm. Every man to his post.”

The soldier saluted and hurried off. Moments later, the horn blared across the castle grounds, the mournful call sending soldiers scrambling to their positions.

Inside the castle, you were in the great hall when the horn’s cry reached your ears. Your heart stopped for a moment. Fear gripped you — not for yourself, but for the life growing within you.

A servant rushed in. “Lady Skywalker, they’re coming.”

You rose to your feet, steadying yourself against the table. You felt the weight of your unborn child as if it anchored you to the world. The thought of danger had never felt so terrifying before — not until you had someone else to protect.

“Where is he?” you asked, your voice calm but urgent.

“The General is on the walls.”

Without hesitation, you made your way to him. The halls were chaotic, filled with soldiers arming themselves and servants running to secure the castle’s valuables. You moved through the madness, your heart hammering in your chest.

When you reached the battlements, you saw him. Anakin stood like a statue of war, his cloak billowing in the wind, his sword at his side.

“Anakin!” you called out, rushing to him.

He turned, his face softening when he saw you. But there was a storm in his eyes — a rage he could barely contain. He closed the distance between you in a few strides, his hand cupping your cheek.

“They’re coming,” you whispered, fear lacing your voice.

“I know,” he said softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “Your father is with them.”

The words stung more than you thought they would. Your father. The man who had sworn to protect you. Now, he marched with enemies at his side, determined to tear apart the life you’d built with Anakin.

“Why?” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

Anakin’s jaw clenched. “Because peace doesn’t serve men like him. They crave power, not harmony.”

You touched his face, feeling the tension in his muscles. “What will we do?”

“We fight,” he said simply. “We hold this castle. And if they take it — we burn it to the ground before they ever claim victory.”

Outside the castle, the French siege engines began their relentless assault. Stones crashed against the walls, shaking the very foundation of Ashmore. Soldiers scrambled to defend the gates, arrows flying through the air in deadly arcs.

Anakin turned to his men, his voice steady despite the chaos.

“Hold the gates! Do not falter!”

He kissed your forehead in silent reassurance, even if his eyes were on the gate. But his mind wasn’t entirely on the battle. It was on you.

And he knew that before the day was done, he would have to confront your father — not just as a king, but as a man who had betrayed his own daughter.

The deafening sound of battle echoed across the courtyard of Ashmore Castle. The clash of swords, the grunts of men locked in mortal combat, and the constant thundering of hooves filled the air. Anakin stood at the forefront of the fighting, his sword an extension of his fury. His men, loyal to him through countless battles, followed his every command, striking down the enemy with precision. But his mind was not on the battle itself.

His heart pounded in his chest, every strike of his blade fueled by the thought of you — of your safety. The castle was under siege, French soldiers overwhelming the castle’s defenses, and even though he had ordered you to the safety of your room, the thought of you unprotected gnawed at him. His senses were strained, pulling him back to the keep, back to where you were.

But as the battle surged forward, his men’s cries drew his attention back to the fight before him. Count Aulbry led the charge, a scowl etched onto his face, his forces relentless. Anakin’s gaze hardened. He met Aulbry’s eyes across the battlefield, and in that instant, the enemy commander knew that a reckoning awaited him.

With a roar, Anakin charged forward, cutting his way through the French soldiers, his eyes burning with determination. His blade moved like lightning, severing limbs, slicing through armor, and leaving chaos in his wake. But even in the midst of the violence, his mind remained fixed on you — on the looming danger of your capture.

And then, through the chaos, a familiar sound reached him: the distant cry of a soldier. A cry that brought dread to his chest. His eyes snapped towards the castle keep.

Your father had arrived at the front gate.

Anakin’s heart seized. His worst fear had materialized. He knew that the attack was not just about land or power anymore — it was personal. You were the target. And with that realization, a raw, unrelenting anger surged through him.

His voice rang out, a battle cry to his soldiers: “Protect her ! NOW !”

He turned, his sword held high, before cutting through the chaos toward the castle’s entrance. But as he rushed forward, he saw the faces of his men — his brothers in arms, some of whom had fought beside him for years — they, too, knew the stakes. Their faces reflected the same understanding.

“Get to my wife, NOW !” Anakin shouted again, his voice a growl as he forced his way past the remaining enemies. His sword cleaved through the ranks as he tore toward the keep, but he saw that his soldiers, quick and disciplined, had already pushed forward. They were surrounding the door, fighting with every ounce of strength to protect what Anakin held most dear.

And then he saw you — there, at the door, struggling against the pull of his men, your father’s soldiers pushing toward you. A soldier had already drawn his sword, his eyes locked on you, intent on dragging you into the chaos.

“No!” Anakin’s voice cracked through the air like thunder. “Stay back!” He roared at his men. “Get her inside !”

But it was too late. Your father’s forces had broken through. Anakin’s blood ran cold as he saw a soldier raise his blade above you, his intentions clear.

Without thinking, Anakin launched himself forward, his sword flashing in the sun. He cut through the nearest enemy with ease, knocking the man’s sword from his hand before sending him crumpling to the ground. His men closed ranks around him, forming a protective barrier, but not before Anakin saw you — terrified but determined — stepping back into the shadows of the keep.

The fury in Anakin’s eyes grew, the rage bubbling up from a place deep within him. His body was a whirlwind of violence, carving through any man who dared to stand in his way. His rage was the fire that fueled his every strike. He was no longer fighting for victory. He was fighting for you, for your life.

His soldiers fought with equal ferocity, shielding you from harm as they dragged you back into the keep, as far from the madness of the battlefield as possible.

“Do not let them near her !” Anakin roared one final time. His voice, ragged with fury, was heard by his men as a battle cry.

The last of the French forces were driven back, falling to the might of Anakin’s men. The gate wasn’t sealed shut, and the soldiers who had shielded you now stood at attention, their eyes on their general, whose chest heaved with exhaustion and rage.

In the chaos that followed, Anakin’s eyes searched the keep, his pulse racing. He knew that the worst was yet to come. The French were not done. But at least for now, you were safe.

The chaos of the battle raged outside the stone walls of Ashmore Castle. The distant clash of swords, the roar of men, and the acrid scent of burning wood filled the air. But inside the darkened chamber where Anakin had sent you for safety, a terrible silence hung — an omen of what was to come.

You sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding with worry. Anakin had kissed your forehead before he left, promising he would return. He had placed soldiers outside the door, men loyal to him, sworn to protect you and your unborn child. But even as you sat there, you knew this castle was no sanctuary. War had no boundaries.

The sound of footsteps in the hall made you rise to your feet. The door creaked open, and for a brief moment, relief washed over you — until you saw who stood in the doorway.

King Phillip.

Blood splattered his cloak, and his sword dripped red. Behind him, the bodies of Anakin’s men lay crumpled in the corridor. The sight of their lifeless forms twisted your stomach, but Phillip showed no remorse. His eyes locked on you with the cold detachment of a man who had long abandoned any sense of familial love.

“Father…” you whispered, stepping back.

Phillip’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “My daughter.” The words dripped with mockery. “Or should I say, the traitor’s wife?”

Your heart clenched with fury and despair. “What have you done?”

Phillip strode into the room, his boots leaving bloody prints on the floor. “I’ve taken what is mine. This castle will fall. Your husband will fall. And you…” He paused, tilting his head. “You will finally serve your purpose.”

You shook your head, backing away until your legs hit the bed. “I have no purpose in your schemes. I chose my life. I chose Anakin. You cannot take that from me.”

Phillip’s eyes darkened. “Chose? You were never given a choice. You were born a woman — a disappointment from the very first breath you took.”

The words hit you like a dagger to the heart. You had always known you were not the son your father wanted, but hearing it spoken with such venom tore open old wounds.

“You speak of me as a disappointment,” you said, your voice trembling with anger, “but it is you who has failed. You’ve betrayed your blood, your country. You’ve thrown away honor for ambition.”

Phillip’s gaze hardened. “Honor? Honor is a fool’s dream. You think your husband fights for honor? No. He fights for power — the same as any man. And you…” He took another step forward. “You are nothing but a pawn. A tool to be used, discarded when your value runs out.”

Tears burned in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Anakin loves me. He fights for our child. That is more than you could ever understand.”

Phillip sneered. “Love? A weakness. A distraction. And it will be your undoing.”

Silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You saw now the man your father truly was — not a king, but a coward. A man who would sacrifice anything, anyone, to grasp at power.

“You speak of me as a disappointment,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. “But it is you who will die alone. Forgotten. Unloved.”

Phillip’s eyes flickered with something like anger, but he quickly masked it with disdain. “It matters not. In the end, history remembers power — not sentiment.”

He paced slowly in the dimly lit chamber, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out of the narrow window overlooking the chaos of battle. His voice, cold and biting, echoed through the room as he finally spoke, his words dripping with disdain.

“A daughter…” he began, his tone laced with frustration. “What use is a daughter when I had hoped for a son? A son who would carry the blood of the French crown and lead our armies to victory. What is a woman but a vessel to be married off for political advantage, a pawn in a game of power? You should have been born a son. But no, I am burdened with a daughter who will never understand the true weight of ruling a kingdom.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, eyes narrowed. “A woman like you is nothing more than a tool for diplomacy. You will marry, bear children, and your name will be swallowed up by whatever alliance I decide. The world is not kind to those of your sex. Do you understand that ?”

His gaze was harsh, as if he truly believed his words. But you, defiant as ever, stood there with your arms crossed, barely fazed by the cruel tirade.

With a small smirk, you leaned casually against the wall, your eyes flicking to him as you replied with unshaken confidence.

“Well, Father, it’s a shame you didn’t get the son you wanted. But I suppose we can’t all be as useful as you’d hoped. I may not carry your precious crown, but I can certainly outsmart your decisions. So, if you want to talk about usefulness, perhaps you should ask yourself why you rely on power and not wisdom.”

Your words were sharp and biting, not the least bit respectful, but laced with a hidden satisfaction. You knew well enough that the king's opinion of you held no weight anymore. He had underestimated you for far too long.

“Perhaps if I were a son, I’d actually have some dignity. But seeing how you’ve handled your kingdom, I think I’m better off just being your daughter, don't you agree ?”

The silence that followed was heavy, and the king’s fury simmered beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to retort, but the coldness in your voice left him without words.

As he turned to leave, his final words echoed through the chamber:

“Pray that your child is a son. Perhaps then, France will find use for you.”

And with that, he left you standing there, trembling with fury and sorrow.

But even as tears fell from your eyes, your resolve hardened. You would not let his cruelty define you. You would fight, alongside Anakin, for your family, your love, your future.

The battle outside raged on, but within your heart, a new battle had begun — a battle to break free from the chains of your father’s betrayal.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

A son may bear the sword of fate,

A daughter, too, has strength innate.

In your eyes, no difference lies,

For both are stars in equal skies.

The sound of footsteps grew louder outside your chamber, and a sudden shiver of dread ran through you. You had heard the chaos in the distance, the shouts and clashes of battle, but this was different. You knew something was wrong—your instincts screamed at you to move, to do something, anything, before it was too late.

As the door burst open, you saw him. One of Edward’s men, his cruel smirk matching the malicious gleam in his eyes. He stepped forward, clearly intending to drag you into the fray, to use you as leverage against Anakin. You glanced around the room frantically, heart pounding as your gaze fell upon the vase on the nearby table.

Your hands trembled as you snatched it up. You weren’t a warrior, not like Anakin, but you knew what you had to do. Your child—your unborn daughter—depended on you. There was no way you were going to let this man harm either of you.

With a burst of adrenaline, you swung the vase with all the force you could muster, hitting him squarely across the face. The impact was so forceful that the vase shattered, the pieces scattering across the stone floor. The man stumbled back, dazed and howling in pain, but you didn’t stop. The sound of his angered growl only spurred you forward.

You moved fast, faster than you had ever thought possible, and in the chaos of the moment, you acted out of pure survival instinct. Your teeth sunk into his cheek, a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grip as he struggled to keep hold of you. Your heart raced in your chest, your hands trembling with the desire to protect your child at all costs.

But before you could break free, he backhanded you. The blow was swift and brutal, sending you crashing to the floor. Your cheek burned with the force of the strike, your head spinning as your body hit the stone.

For a moment, everything was hazy. You could feel your body aching, but you refused to surrender. You had to keep fighting.

The clash of steel filled the air, echoing through the walls of the castle as Anakin fought valiantly against the tide of enemies. His eyes, locked on his target, never wavered, his every strike calculated with the precision of a master. But beneath his sharp focus, a quiet panic began to gnaw at him. The threat wasn’t the soldiers charging him from all sides—it was you.

He had sent you to the safety of your room, surrounded by a handful of trusted soldiers. Yet the storm was too fierce, and Phillip’s men had other plans. Word had reached him only moments ago that his King himself had issued an order. Target Anakin. Make him pay for his betrayal. And so, as the castle became a battlefield, French men were relentless, determined to eliminate their enemy, and with him, the heart of the rebellion.

But in the chaos, something far worse awaited.

From the far corner of the courtyard, Anakin saw a flash of movement. His heart lurched. His soldiers were engaged with the enemy, trying to keep the courtyard secure—but something wasn’t right. There was no sign of you. His breath caught in his throat as he sprinted towards the courtyard, his eyes scanning every corner for you.

It wasn’t until he saw one of Edward's men dragging you out of your room, dagger raised with cold intent, that his world turned to fire. A primal fury coursed through him, blood roaring in his ears as he watched you struggle against your captor’s iron grip. His voice, low and guttural, broke through the chaos.

"Not her. Never her."

The man holding you smirked, savoring his moment of power, oblivious to the storm that was about to descend upon him. But as soon as the words left Anakin’s mouth, his soldiers fell back, giving him a clear path. The rage was unstoppable, and in a blur, he reached the man in mere seconds. His sword cleaved through the air, swift and lethal, severing the dagger-bearing hand in one smooth motion. Blood sprayed across the ground as the man screamed, his weapon clattering to the stone floor.

Anakin wasn’t done. His rage was too consuming, his need to protect you too fierce. He pushed the man aside with an almost inhuman strength, his eyes never leaving you, locking onto your trembling form. "You’ll never touch her again," he snarled, before turning his attention to the soldiers around him. He moved like a tempest, hacking and slashing through Edward’s men, showing no mercy. His only focus was you.

The remaining men hesitated, realizing too late that their lives were forfeit. Anakin’s fury was unstoppable, his every move fueled by the terror and desperation of seeing you in danger. He cut through them with brutal efficiency, his blade moving faster than their thoughts could keep up. The courtyard was alive with screams of men falling, but all Anakin heard was the pounding of his own heart and the sight of you—alive, but shaken, still clutched in the hands of the soldiers.

With one final roar, he reached you. He pulled you into his arms, your body trembling against his chest as his hands checked you for injury, though his mind was far beyond that. The soldiers around them lay slain, the hallway quieting in the aftermath of his fury.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was rough, desperate, yet tender as his fingers gently cupped your face. His eyes searched you for any sign of damage, any trace of harm.

"No," you whispered, still in shock, but safe. "I’m fine, Anakin."

Anakin exhaled in relief, though his anger hadn’t yet subsided. The fire of his fury was still burning in his chest, still threatening to consume him. He pulled you tighter into his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I’ll never let them take you," he muttered, as if promising the heavens themselves. "We need to get you out of this wretched castle."

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

In the quiet of the morning sky,

You soared, a dove, so free and high.

Your wings brushed the dawn’s first light,

A fleeting glimpse, then out of sight…

The castle had become a slaughterhouse. The once-proud walls now echoed with the clash of steel, the cries of the fallen, and the guttural shouts of men lost to the madness of war. Anakin fought like a tempest, his blade a blur of silver as he cut through his enemies, his every movement fueled by a single, all-consuming purpose: to protect you.

You were at his side, not as a helpless bystander, but as a part of his resolve. He had insisted you stay close, knowing that if anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself. Yet, there was a fire in you, a desire to not be hidden away, to stand with him as the world crumbled around you. And so, you fought by his side, armed with the courage of someone who would protect her unborn child at any cost.

The castle’s once-beautiful courtyard was now choked with the bodies of fallen men, soldiers loyal to the French and to King Edward, tangled together in a brutal testament to the chaos of betrayal. Anakin’s face was set in a mask of grim determination, the veins in his neck bulging as he swung his sword with deadly precision, cutting through one enemy after another. His focus was absolute, and yet, his thoughts were consumed by one thing: you. His heart beat for you, for your child, for the future he wanted to build with you. The fury of the battle around him was nothing compared to the fury he felt at the thought of losing you.

“Stuck by me,” Anakin growled as he fought, his voice strained with pain but filled with an undeniable authority. You had seen him in moments of great emotion before, but never like this—never with the fury of a man who would tear the world apart to keep his family safe.

You nodded, keeping close to him as he dispatched his foes with the precision of a warrior who had seen too much bloodshed. Every time you saw him strike, your heart skipped a beat. There was something so raw, so primal in the way he fought. It was as though each strike carried the weight of every threat to your life, to your child’s life, and to the future he swore he would give you.

But then, in the middle of the battlefield, you saw him. Count Aulbry.

The man who had once been a false ally, a shadow lurking behind the politics that had shaped this war. Now, he stood before you, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. He was surrounded by his men, but there was something about the way he looked at you—something darker that sent a shiver down your spine.

Anakin saw him at the same time, his eyes narrowing with hatred. Aulbry had been one of the key figures behind the betrayal, one of the men who had manipulated the French forces into attacking England, sowing chaos wherever he could. The Count had blood on his hands, and now he would pay for it.

Anakin’s voice was low, but you could hear the anger in it, the growl of a man who had seen too much and would see no more. “Stay here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. His grip on his sword tightened, his eyes fixed on Aulbry. “I’ll deal with him.”

Before you could respond, Anakin was gone, cutting through the chaos with the skill and speed of a predator. You had never seen him like this—so consumed by rage, so focused. But it was a rage that had a purpose, a fury that burned for something more than just revenge. It was a fury that burned for you, for your future.

The two men met in the center of the courtyard, swords drawn. The sound of their blades clashing rang out, a thunderous noise that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them. Aulbry was skilled, no doubt, but he was no match for Anakin’s raw power and experience. Each strike from Anakin seemed to drive Aulbry back, his blade faltering with each blow.

“You betrayed me!” Anakin shouted, his voice booming across the battlefield. “You betrayed her! You betrayed everything we stood for!”

Aulbry sneered, his own sword raised in defense. “Your loyalty means nothing, Skywalker. You’re a fool, just like all the others. You’ll die here, just like the rest.”

With a roar, Anakin lunged, his blade cutting through the air like a lightning strike. Aulbry barely had time to raise his sword to block, but the force of Anakin’s strike was too much. The Count staggered back, and before he could recover, Anakin drove his sword through Aulbry’s chest with a brutal, unforgiving motion.

The Count’s eyes widened in shock as he collapsed, his life draining from him. Anakin stood over him, his chest heaving, his sword dripping with blood. But even in victory, there was no satisfaction in his eyes. There was only the fire of determination, the need to protect the one person who mattered most.

But in the midst of the victory, a sharp pain shot through Anakin’s side. He gasped, stumbling back a step, his sword still clutched tightly in his hand. You rushed to him, your heart catching in your throat as you saw the blood beginning to pool around his waist.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice gruff, his breathing shallow. He gritted his teeth, eyes scanning the battlefield even as he clutched his side. "Stay with me," he added, pulling you close.

You placed a hand over the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but there was no time. Anakin’s soldiers were still fighting, and the castle walls were starting to close in around you. His men fought valiantly, but it was clear that the tide of the battle was shifting.

"We need to go," you urged, trying to pull him away from the carnage. "We need to leave now. You’re hurt, Anakin."

Anakin shook his head, his voice laced with determination. “I’m not leaving. Not now. Not until you’re safe.”

You could see the strain in his eyes, the fatigue beginning to set in, but his resolve never wavered. He had always been a fighter, but now, there was something else in his eyes—a need to protect you and the life growing inside of you.

"Stay close, my love." he commanded, his voice low but firm, barely louder than the shrieks of battle around them. He reached for your hand, pulling you toward him, and in a fleeting moment, he pressed his lips to your forehead, feeling the weight of everything he was fighting for in that one touch.

But the calm was fleeting.

Anakin’s eyes scanned the battlefield once more, instincts on high alert. He had defeated Aulbry, but this wasn’t over yet. They weren’t safe. Not yet.

Anakin’s breath came in ragged gasps as he slashed through the enemies that stood between you and the side of the castle, his every movement driven by an unrelenting need to protect. The bloodied battlefield stretched out before him, and yet, all he could see was you. His gaze never left you, watching as you gathered your strength beside him, a brief moment of calm amid the storm. You bent down to pick up his sword, unaware of the danger creeping closer.

Suddenly, a faint whistle cut through the chaos—almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Anakin's eyes flicked upward, narrowing as the sound grew louder. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The distinct, chilling sound of arrows in flight.

Before he could react, you were still, your focus entirely on the weapon in your hands. His heart leapt in his chest. No. He spun around, instinctively reaching for you, desperate to shield you, but his injury—a searing gash in his side—slowed him.

Time seemed to stretch as his body screamed for movement, but his limbs betrayed him. In the blink of an eye, the arrow sliced through the air.

He turned just in time to see it, the glint of the arrow’s tip aimed directly at you. His eyes locked with yours in an instant, his breath stolen by the sight.

And then, it was too late.

The arrow struck with brutal precision, embedding itself just under your heart.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

…I reached for you, but you took flight,

Leaving me to face the endless night.

Like a dove, you flew away,

And with you, my heart did stay.

[jo-the-cosmic-being]

Light of my life

Pairing: Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word count: 8 hundred something

Warnings: mention of blood, death, just emotional pain in general, crying (is that a warning?) fluffy hurt-comfort or something idk

Sum up: your man is traumatized and you are the only one who can make him forget the horrors

Note: did I just write my first fic ever? It’s literally 1:30 ohmygoodneasss I cried while writing so pls enjoy and sry if it’s bad ♡

(Oh and you are wifey nowww)

(Divider by fairytopea)

After the bloody mission was over, and all Phillip was surrounded by was dead men, he felt a sudden wave of relief and the tension of war slowly began to leave his body. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and all he could think about was his beautiful wife. The only person who can fully calm his mind and take away the burdens he had been carrying for a while. If your were there, it would be a lot easier but for now, just thinking about you was enough to fill his heart with peace.

He was almost smiling at the thought of you probably sleeping peacefully at home, he knew you were safe,-not as safe as you would be if he was next to you-but he had no reason to worry about you now. What snapped him out of his daydreams was the sudden ringing of a mobile phone.

His eyes opened quickly at the sound it made and he stood up weakly to follow the noise. He found it in the other room of the burnt down building, in the pocket of a soldier. A shadow. He sighed and knelt down to take a look at the ringing phone but it suddenly stopped. He unlocked the phone and saw that it was a call from the dead man’s mother. He took a deep breath and gave up fighting his tears. This was just too much. It has been worse but he couldn’t take this any longer.

He didn’t have the nerve to call back the mother to tell her what happened to her son. Not now. Or ever. Maybe he can pass this task to someone else if he gets out of here alive.

Without thinking too much, Phillip sat down at the cold and dusty floor of what remained of that building and began to type in the first number that came to his mind. Yours.

He didn’t even think it through, he completely forgot it was 4 in the morning-probably less at where you live- he didn’t even think about that maybe that damned phone was what gave away their position earlier that day. All he wanted was to hear your voice. A break from the torture.

You woke up to your phone ringing. All alone in your king sized bed, wrapped into both of your blankets, you woke up slowly and you cursed in your mind whoever dared to call you that late… it was an unknown number, you had never seen it in your life. You tried to wipe all the sleepiness away from your eyes before picking up the phone.

“Mrs. Graves” you said with a tired and somewhat annoyed tone.

You didn’t get an answer back immediately because your man on the other end of the call was a bit taken off guard hearing his own last name that you two have been sharing for 2 months now. He smiled so widely, with all the blood and dirt in himself he almost looked like a psycho but he have never felt more in love.

“It’s me, darlin’” he spoke really quietly, you could hear that he was excited to speak to you but you could also catch that he was extremely exhausted.

You gasped and sat up suddenly, your eyes wide open like cherry pies.

“Phil are you okay? Oh my gosh-“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because he quickly tried to calm you down with some “I’m fine”s and “don’t worry”s which weren’t true but he didn’t wanted to scare you.

“I just wanted to hear you” he sounded desperate. He needed you more than anything.

Without asking anything, you started to speak about your day, what did you do, who did you meet. If you listened closely, you could hear him chuckle at your report of what the neighbors did this time. You told him that your dog is missing him too and you told him about the places you took him for a walk to. Your voice sounded calm and he could hear you smiling. But you were fighting against your tears. You had to stay strong for him now. You can never know when will it be your last conversation.

He didn’t speak a word, maybe he just couldn’t. But when he saw the light of a rescue helicopter and he heard noises, he knew it was time to say goodbye for now.

You heard that too, unsure if it was threat or he will be saved so you paused and your voice cracked while you tried to finish the conversation with the only thing that was in your mind right now.

“Please come home.”

“I love you” he said without waiting for a response, he already knew what you would say.

💋

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (18/∞) ♛

↬ Countess Wynn's Meander Tiara

The majority of the tiaras in the Sunderlandian collection were inherited through members of King Louis V's family, mainly previous queens Matilda Mary, Anne, and Katherine. This meander tiara however represents the current Wariwcks' French heritage, as it belonged to Queen Irene's mother, Marguerite Wynn. Countess Wynn was born in 1914 as Marguerite Delphine Lucie Chevrier. She was the eldest of four children born to industrialist  Phillipe Édouard Chervrier (1880 - 1950) and his El Salvadoran wife, Consuelo Romana Gomez (1892 - 1979). Margurite's family claims ancestry from both French and Spanish nobility, although the bulk of their impressive fortune was derived from Phillipe's ceramics factory in the south of France. Much of Margurite's early life was disrupted by the First World War, during which the Chevriers settled in Mexico City with Consuelo's sister. Following the war, Marguerite flourished in high Parisian society, becoming well-versed in the arts and fluent in several languages, including English and Spanish. Expected to marry into the French aristocracy, Marguerite made waves by instead marrying John Wynn (1911 - 1973), a career soldier from Sunderland whose great family had fallen on hard times following the deaths of John's three older brothers in the war. When the couple met in 1931, John was on a mindless trek across Europe, in search of a wealthy bride. Despite their differing backgrounds, Marguerite was smitten by John's optimism and good humour. The pair married a year later, with John even converting to Catholicism to appease Marguerite's parents. Their wedding was held at the Chapel of the Palace of Versailles, one of the last grand society affairs of interwar Paris. The tiara, which featured a Greek key design punctuated by a central emerald-cut yellow diamond, was among Marguarite's wedding gifts. The jewel is ambiguous in origin but is agreed to be an early twentieth-century creation, likely from Cartier. It became a useful tool in Margurite's arsenal as she erupted in Sunderland as one of the country's wealthiest society ladies. Pearlie, as she became known, was noted to be arrogant, intelligent, and ravishing. Pearlie is more "royal" than the rest of us combined. She drenches herself in jewels as if she were the ghost of the last Tsarina. — Queen Katherine, 1970

The Countess owned the tiara until 1968, when she gave it to her youngest daughter, Lady Irene, also as a wedding present. Irene's marriage to the future King Louis V was Pearlie's greatest life achievement and she became increasingly boastful. Maman Wynn, as she was called by the press and public, was known to meddle in royal affairs, especially the personal lives of her daughter and son-in-law. By the early 1980s, she was on bad terms with both. Irene was never seen wearing her mother's tiara, but she kept it in her own personal possession for almost thirty years. In 1997, Irene continued the tradition by gifting the tiara to her only daughter, Princess Jacqueline, ahead of her wedding to Lawrence Belmont. The wedding was coincidently the last public appearance of the old Countess Wynn. She died peacefully at Chester Palace the same winter. Since then, Jacqueline has worn the tiara regularly at state functions and in official portraits. It's among the princess's most cherished pieces.

The Countess Wynn wears the tiara in a portrait, circa October 1943, eight years before the birth of her youngest daughter, Queen Irene

HRH Princess Jacqueline wears the tiara while attending a gala dinner & dance in July 2026

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Yorktown

The Siege of Yorktown (28 September to 19 October 1781) was the final major military operation of the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). It resulted in the surrender of British general Lord Charles Cornwallis, whose army had been trapped in Yorktown, Virginia, by George Washington's Franco-American army on land, and by Comte de Grasse's French fleet at sea.

Storming of Redoubt 10 During the Siege of Yorktown

Eugène Lami (Public Domain)

War Comes to Virginia

In the spring of 1781, as the American War of Independence approached its sixth year, the British came to Virginia. 1,500 British troops under the command of the American turncoat Benedict Arnold landed at Portsmouth in January, going on to capture and burn the city of Richmond. Arnold was joined two months later by 2,300 more men under Major General William Phillips; together, Phillips and Arnold defeated a Virginia militia force at Blandford in late April before going on to burn the tobacco warehouses at Petersburg. They remained in Petersburg as they awaited the arrival of Lord Charles Cornwallis, who was marching up from North Carolina with 1,500 men, the survivors of the costly British victory at the Battle of Guilford Court House. Cornwallis reached Petersburg on 20 May, several days after General Phillips had died of a fever. Arnold returned to New York in June, leaving Cornwallis in sole command of the combined British army, which numbered over 7,200 men.

Cornwallis was not supposed to be in Virginia. Indeed, Sir Henry Clinton, commander-in-chief of the British forces and Cornwallis' superior officer, had ordered him to merely suppress Patriot resistance in the Carolinas. A task that had, at first, appeared easy enough soon turned into a quagmire, as Patriot and Loyalist militias tore each other to bloody shreds in the South Carolinian backcountry. All the progress Cornwallis had made in pacifying the country quickly unraveled after two defeats at the Battle of Kings Mountain and the Battle of Cowpens. Even his eventual victory at Guilford Court House left a bitter taste in his mouth, as he had lost over 25% of his army and had allowed the elusive American general Nathanael Greene to slip through his fingers. It was clear that his strategy would have to change if he wanted to win the South, no matter General Clinton's orders. His solution had been to invade Virginia. Greene and the Carolinian militias counted on supplies and reinforcements from the Old Dominion; should Virginia fall, Cornwallis calculated the rest of the South would fall with it.

Now, with the strength of Arnold's and Phillips' armies added to his own, Cornwallis put his plan into motion. He first struck toward Richmond, sending a small American army under Gilbert du Motiers, Marquis de Lafayette, running, before dispatching raiding parties into Virginia's heartland to seize supply depots and disrupt lines of communications. Lt. Colonel Banastre Tarleton and his dreaded British Legion were sent to Charlottesville, where Governor Thomas Jefferson and the Virginia General Assembly had relocated after the burning of Richmond; warned of Tarleton's coming, Jefferson and all but seven of the legislators managed to escape into the mountains mere minutes before 'Bloody Ban' arrived to apprehend them. Finally, on 25 June, Cornwallis' main army arrived triumphantly in Williamsburg. It might have been the start to a glorious conquest – had Cornwallis not received fresh orders from General Clinton the very next day.

American War of Independence, 1775 - 1783

Simeon Netchev (CC BY-NC-ND)

The orders were for Cornwallis to suspend military operations in Virginia. Clinton had learned that a sizable French fleet was sailing up from the West Indies, and he feared that New York City (where Clinton himself was located with 10,000 men) was its target. Cornwallis, therefore, was to go on the defensive, march to the nearest deep-water port – Clinton recommended Portsmouth or Yorktown – fortify it, and wait there for further orders. Cornwallis was deeply frustrated by these instructions, as he believed that it was in Virginia where the war would be won. Nevertheless, he did as he was told. He marched out of Williamsburg, pausing only to lay an ambush for Lafayette's pursuing army; the resulting Battle of Green Spring (6 July) bloodied Lafayette's force but did not destroy it. Cornwallis pressed on, ultimately choosing Yorktown as his destination. By 6 August, he had landed his troops there and had begun to fortify both Yorktown and Gloucester Point, just across the York River.

Continue reading...

[castielsprostate]

like. it’s lovely that you’re enjoying the deadpool/wolverine shipping. but it’s still a marvel movie. i thought we were supposed to be boycotting marvel bc they have an israeli character?

hm. i already spoke about this but im just gonna be honest. you cannot deprive yourself of every. single. fucking. thing. and i am so fucking tired of policing people that are already doing shit for enjoying a single thing that isn't even involved with it.

i dont really talk a lot about what i do, because i dont think i have to justify how i live my life (something about good people dont have to brag about how good they are), but im already boycotting mcdonalds, im already boycotting starbucks, sodastream, burger king, phillips, airb&b, as much of nestle as possible, and every other company i can reasonably boycott. im donating to fundraisers and pleas for help. i donate to the pcrf. i donate to demining ukraine. i donate to greenpeace and a national cancer fund. i go to protests and demonstrations, i participate in community efforts, i share resources and fundraisers and verified information. im rallying for voters, i'm involved in my local community's green party. you dont see what i, or my friends, or other random internet users, are doing behind the scenes.

i am stretched fucking thin, my bank account is dwindling to keep up with everything. im going through insane health scares right now, chronic pain, anxiety so severe i want to fucking die, and a major chronic depressive episode to top it all off, i. am. exhausted.

you cannot deprive yourself of everything because when you do, there'll be nothing left of you. and who the fuck are you going to help then? the world is still happening, it's still turning despite the wars and genocides, despite the rising death toll of climate change, despite the threats to democracy. all we can do is put our effort where our mouth is, and take care of ourselves.

[afurtivecake]

normal regency au where visander returns to the wrong universe, one where magic and the dark king remain forgotten, but doesn't realize it. he wakes up to the whole regency society thing and meets his (new) fiancé who looks too much like that bastard sarcean to be a coincidence and he's convinced that "phillip" is just sarcean ver2.0 and this is all just a sick farce designed to humiliate him and to keep him from the real war. meanwhile, phillip is literally just a regency dandy who's never worked a day in his life nor ever expected to do anything serious like inheriting his father's title and lands and now he suddenly has to do that on top of having a high-maintenance fiancé who seems to HATE him even though he's been trying to be very polite to her???

[mackdizzy]

[my gift for @thecooleraveragejamm , for @mcyt-valentines !]

Okay, so!

My giftee was interested in c!Technoblade and a playlist, so I made a little song cycle! The cycle is in 8 parts (acts) with 7 songs each, and the whole thing will take just under 3 hours to listen to, with each individual act being 20-25 minutes. I'm posting the graphics, song lists, and spotify playlists (there are 8 separate playlists) in order, but if spotify isn't your jam, isn't accessible, or if you'd rather all in one go, at the end of this post (along with some more info about the cycle) is a youtube playlist that contains all 56 songs all at once!

Act 1: World Conqueror • I'm Born to Run (American Authors) • Taking Over the World (Coyote Theory) • Aulon Raid (The Mountain Goats) • Renegades (X Ambassadors) • Ends of the Earth (Lord Huron) • Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Lorde) • Immortals (Fall out Boy)

Act 2: (We Have) The Blade • The Horror and the Wild (The Amazing Devil) • Revolution (The Score) • Riot (Hollywood Undead) • Legend (The Score) • The Phoenix (Fall Out Boy) • Raging Fire (Phillip Phillips) • Unstoppable (The Score)

Act 3: Interlude; Peer Pressure • Borderline (Tame Impala) • Angry Too (Lola Blanc) • Victorious (Panic! at the Disco) • Blood (End Credits) (My Chemical Romance) • Bang! (AJR) • Sinners (Barns Courtney) • Never Going Back (The Score)

Act 4: Die Like One • Pale White Horse (The Oh Hellos) • Point of No Return (Starset) • Let's Kill Tonight (Panic! at the Disco) • Rebels (Call Me Karizma) • Enemies (The Score) • Born Ready (Zayde Wolf) • This is it (Oh The Larceny)

Act 5: Retirement or; • Thousand Eyes (Of Monsters and Men) • People I Don't Like (UPSAHL) • Whatever it Takes (Imagine Dragons) • Under the Pressure (The Score) • Another Way Out (Hollywood Undead) • Monster (Willyecho) • Ghost (Confetti)

Act 6: Welcome Home Theseus (Minor Acts of Terrorism) • Play Dirty (Kevin McAllister [SEBELL]) • Emperor's New Clothes (Panic! at the Disco) • Wrecking Ball (Mother Mother) • Glory and Gore (Lorde) • Bang Bang (Hippo Campus) • Allies or Enemies (The Crane Wives) • Novocaine (Fall Out Boy)

Act 7: It Ends Today (I'm a Person) • Roots (Imagine Dragons) • Wolves (Sam Tinnesz, Silverberg) • My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up) (Fall out Boy) • Fire (Barns Courtney) • Wine Red (The Hush Sound) • Take Me To War (The Crane Wives) • Ready Set Let's Go (Sam Tinnesz)

Act 8: Sic Semper Tyrannis • Bit by Bit (Mother Mother) • Up The Wolves (The Mountain Goats) • Creature (Half • Alive ) • Kings (Tribe Society) • Run Like A Rebel (The Score) • The Ballad of the Broken Bones (The Low Anthem) • Hieroglyphs (The Oh Hellos) ━━━ ➼ ━━━━

I tried to pick music that aesthetically, musically, and lyrically matched c!Techno's vibes--the playlist follows his story from pre-DSMP to post-Doomsday (so not the whole thing, but a nice, peaceful ending point). The intention is for you to follow c!Techno's journey as you listen, and I think this playlist has a rather nice message about finding yourself and finding peace through rather hostile circumstances and worldviews. It gave me a lot of peace and joy to make, and I hope you enjoy, giftee and anyone else, and have fun listening! Youtube Link