#eliza reign

[alannacouture]

Aww…remember when The CW was fun?

[queencvbra]

thinking about how there are so many normal teenage things Tory doesn’t understand because she’s been basically living unrestricted since she was 13, even more so after her mom’s sickness got worse and there was no way she could enforce any kind of parenting on Tory

[keptflame]

why are half of the deleted songs in hamilton better than some of the ones that actually made it in the show???

[corroded-hellfire]

AYW Eliza Question

We know Eliza is loved for her divattude 🩷

But does Eliza soften her divattude for certain family members? Like, she's sweeter with Mommy reader compared to Eddie. I have a feeling she's completely soft for Pappy Wayne.

Her divattude! I love that 🥰

Eliza has her moments of calm sweetness and stubborn sassiness with everyone in the family. But there are certainly members of the family who bring out particular traits in her that others don’t…

You are a hundred percent correct that Eliza is just the softest for Wayne. She gives him cuddles and hugs and always acts like a little angel with him. That doesn’t mean Wayne hasn’t seen her beating her brother over the head with her rag doll a time or two, though.

She’s definitely sweeter when she’s with her mommy than anyone else. Eliza loves everyone’s cuddles, but there’s something special about being curled up with her mommy. Nothing like her mama’s hands smoothing over her hair or rubbing her little back to make the small girl feel like sugar and spice and everything nice!

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s Luke. There’s something about him that brings out Eliza’s wild side. Yeah, of course there are times when he messes with her first, but that doesn’t always have to be the case. Luke could just be minding his own business, when out of nowhere comes this tiny tot running at him full speed and leaps on him. Those two definitely to the most rough housing. It’s not long before Eddie went from saying, “Be careful of your sister.” to, “Be careful of your brother.”

With Ryan and Eddie, it’s honestly a crap shoot. If she’s tired, not feeling well, or just in a low key mood, Eliza is sweet little snuggler. But when she’s got that energy, damn, you better get ready. She’ll be waiting with a surprise attack. Eddie tends to bear more of the brunt of these things than his oldest son, though. Eliza can switch on a dime with Eddie. From cuddles to wrestling in the blink of an eye

May Eliza and her divattude reign for all eternity 👑

[fatehbaz]

Christmas pudding [...] [is] a boiled mass of suet - a raw, hard animal fat [...] often replaced with a vegetarian alternative - as well as flour and dried fruits that is often soaked in alcohol and set alight. [...] [I]t is a legacy of the British Empire with ingredients from around the globe it once dominated [...].

Christmas pudding is a relatively recent concoction of two older, at least medieval, dishes. [...] “Figgy pudding,” immortalized in the “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” carol, appeared in the written record by the 14th century. [...] During the 18th century, the two ["plum pottage" and "figgy pudding"] crossed to become the more familiar plum pudding – a steamed pudding packed with the ingredients of the rapidly growing British Empire of rule and trade. The key was less a new form of cookery than the availability of once-luxury ingredients, including French brandy, raisins from the Mediterranean, and citrus from the Caribbean.

Few things had become more affordable than cane sugar which, owing to the labors of millions of enslaved Africans, could be found in the poorest and remotest of British households by mid-century. Cheap sugar, combined with wider availability of other sweet ingredients like citrus and dried fruits, made plum pudding an iconically British celebratory treat, albeit not yet exclusively associated with Christmas.

Such was its popularity that English satirist James Gillray made it the centerpiece of one of his famous cartoons, depicting Napoleon Bonaparte and the British prime minister carving the world in pudding form.

In line with other modern Christmas celebrations, the Victorians took the plum pudding and redefined it [...], making it the “Christmas pudding.” In his 1843 internationally celebrated “A Christmas Carol,” Charles Dickens venerated the dish as the idealized center of any family’s Christmas feast [...].

Three years later, Queen Victoria’s chef published her favored recipe, making Christmas pudding, like the Christmas tree, the aspiration of families across Britain.

Christmas pudding owed much of its lasting appeal to its socioeconomic accessibility. Victoria’s recipe, which became a classic, included candied citrus peel, nutmeg, cinnamon, lemons, cloves, brandy and a small mountain of raisins and currants – all affordable treats for the middle class. Those with less means could either opt for lesser amounts or substitutions [...]. Eliza Acton, a leading cookbook author of the day who helped to rebrand plum pudding as Christmas pudding, offered a particularly frugal recipe that relied on potatoes and carrots. [...] The high alcohol content gave the puddings a shelf life of a year or more, allowing them to be sent even to the empire’s frontiers during Victoria’s reign [...].

---

In the 1920s, the British Women’s Patriotic League heavily promoted it – calling it “Empire Pudding” in a global marketing campaign. They praised it as emblem of the empire that should be made from the ingredients of Britain’s colonies and possessions: dried fruits from Australia and South Africa, cinnamon from Ceylon, spices from India and Jamaican rum in place of French brandy.

Press coverage of London’s 1926 Empire Day celebrations featured the empire’s representatives pouring the ingredients into a ceremonial mixing bowl and collectively stirring it.

The following year, the Empire Marketing Board received King George V’s permission to promote the royal recipe, which had all the appropriate empire-sourced ingredients. Such promotional recipes and the mass production of puddings from iconic grocery stores like [Sains-bury's] in the 1920s combined to place Christmas puddings on the tables [...].

---

All text above by: Troy Bickham. "How the Christmas pudding, with ingredients taken from the colonies, became an iconic British food." The Conversation. 8 December 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Image and caption shown unaltered as they appear published by Bickham along with the article's text.]

[changingplumbob]

Bob Pancakes (He/Him)

My Sims and their Spectrums

Romantic Orientation: Alloromantic, Panromantic Sexual Orientation: Allosexual, Pansexual Gender Identity: Cis Male

Bob took some time to realise he liked more sims than just female presenting ones. He was always happy to lay back and let others take control. With time he realised he didn't only think about females taking the reigns, but males to. He was chill enough to not be bothered with labels, simply saying he was attracted to people. And so it might have stayed if he hadn't fallen for Eliza.

[imwall-e]

Until we meet again : Chapter 1

Pairing : TB!Arthur Morgan x Reader

Warning : MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAY THE GAME, major character dea•th, tuberculosis, angst, (tell me if I forgot some), reader but external POV

A/N : I wrote this a few months ago and finally decided to post it. I'm really proud of this chapter, my best work so far (imo). I first wrote it in French and mostly used Deepl to translate the text, and even if I re-read it, they may be some mistake so don't hesitate to tell me! This is not beta read. This is my first work for the Red Dead fandom and I hope it's good. Consider liking, rebloging or commenting if you like my work (and feel comfortable with that of course).

The atmosphere of Beaver Hollow was already being felt long before we arrived at the new camp. The area was dark, damp, stinking. It was as if it were haunted. Cursed. As for the cave, it was a concentration of all that, only worse. Once home to a local gang nicknamed The Rejects of Murfree, it bore indelible traces of the horrors it had harbored. The smell outside was unbearable, but inside was a vision of dread. Blood was visible from floor to ceiling, pieces of decomposing corpses smeared all the way down to its entrails. Impossible to settle inside.

Where just a few weeks earlier the gang had been celebrating their exit from the snowy mountains, and everyone was ready to give their all to make a new place a comfortable place to live, now there was no laughter to be heard. Not a smile was to be seen on any of the faces. Only whispers, distrust, fear and death reigned.

And Arthur… his coughing fits were becoming more violent, and more frequent. His skin was pale, contrasting with the blue of his eyes, which betrayed his illness and fatigue.

Outlawed, hunted by the Pinkertons or opposing gangs like the O'Driscolls, he'd been shot at many times. And yet, he was dying of tuberculosis. A fucking disease. After all, he'd probably earned it with the life he was leading… had led. His punishment for beating up Mr Downes. A good man, always ready to help others even though he didn't have much.

Arthur, who'd never done anything right. Or so he thought, but she was always there to remind him otherwise. After Mary, after Eliza, he never thought he'd fall in love again. Then she'd come along, and offered him more than he thought he deserved.

Arthur had met her while hunting. She was wearing a long white dress. At first, he thought he saw an angel. Then their eyes met. He saw the fear in her eyes and decided to put down his bow. He introduced himself and she gradually seemed to calm down. After a few minutes' silence, she finally told him her name. Her voice trembled, but she'd asked for his help: she was supposed to be getting married that very day to a man she'd never met. But what she was looking for was freedom.

She wanted to travel. To discover. To live. And Arthur had offered her all that. For five years, they'd been happy together. Arthur had even proposed to her while they were still in Blackwater. But they'd kept it a secret until things got better.

Unfortunately, the moment never arrived.

Micah was a traitor. And Dutch had blindly followed him, going so far as to question the words of John and Arthur. He'd rather believe a dangerous madman than those he considered his own sons.

Arthur should have left after the Blackwater massacre. Hosea had tried to warn him when they'd all fled to Colter. Or he should have let Micah hang at Strawberry. If only he'd been willing to open his eyes to what Dutch had become. To his true nature. If only.

But it was too late now, and there was no point in dwelling on the past. Now he had t o protect those who remained. Tilly had already taken Jack to safety. Abigail was safe thanks to him and Sadie, and the two women had left to join Tilly. Mary-Beth and Karen had probably escaped too. She was the only one left. And he knew exactly where she'd be safe.

He helped his young fiancée onto her mare, then settled down behind her. He wanted to smell her hair while he still could. He wanted to hold her close. However, time was running out and lingering was a luxury they couldn't afford. The person he was looking for was passing through the Annesburg area, but they'd better get moving fast. He nudged the horse's flank to move it forward, and whistled for the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings to follow.

The journey wasn't long, but it went by faster than he would have liked. A dilapidated house appeared in the distance. Arthur had exchanged a few letters with the man who had taken an interest in his bleak landscape, a man he had helped not long ago. He was standing outside, setting up his camera. His gaze wandered to them, and he soon recognized Arthur.

"Mr. Morgan! I'm so happy to see you again! As you may have noticed, I've given up taking pictures of wildlife. I'm now content with the magnificent landscapes" exclaimed Albert, warmly greeting the man who had helped and saved him on numerous occasions. But his familiar enthusiasm soon disappeared when he saw the young woman's tears and Arthur's sickly pallor. "What's the matter?" he asked worriedly, abandoning his camera.

"Mr. Mason, I need you to…" but Arthur was interrupted by a coughing fit causing him to cough up blood as he stepped to the ground. "I'm dying and I'd like you to take care of my fiancée."

The young woman tried to smile at Albert, but knowing that the man she loved would soon be leaving her was too much to bear. It dashed all memories, all hopes of a better life with her cowboy.

"I'm sorry I haven't written to inform you, but recent events haven't given me the opportunity," Arthur resumed after helping his beloved off his horse.

The tears continued to roll silently down the cheeks of the woman who was to become Mrs Morgan. She was silent now, staring into space.

"Mr Morgan…", Albert didn't know what to say. This kind man, who had come to his aid so many times, was going to die. He could see the sadness in the lovers' eyes. And Albert saw only one way he could do something for them: "Don't worry, I'll take care of mademoiselle."

Arthur was relieved: she would be safe. She would live. He turned to her: she seemed no more than a ghost. But she had to fight. For him. For her. For them.

"I love you, Princess," he began, taking her in his arms. "More than you can imagine. I wish I'd said it more often. I regret so many things. But I promise we'll meet again. Not in this life, unfortunately, but in another. I'll find you again."

"We… we… we didn't even have time to get married," she managed to articulate between sobs, the crying resuming in earnest following Arthur's words.

"It wasn't our time. Now you must stay with Albert. Live, princess. Do it for me. I'll always watch over you, but promise me you won't let yourself die."

"I… I promise, Arthur."

That was all he needed to hear. He had to go now. He had unfinished business with Micah, but also with Dutch.

The sun was setting as he rested his forehead against hers. His way of kissing her for the last time, wanting to avoid her contracting tuberculosis too. He squeezed her hands and heard her whisper "I love you, Arthur".

He gently let go of her hands and she kept her eyes closed, not wishing to watch him go. To tell the truth, she was so focused on remembering his scent, his laugh, his voice, that she didn't even hear him mount his mare and gallop away.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky had darkened. A storm was approaching. Arthur was gone. Only Albert remained, looking after the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings. He knew she wouldn't move immediately, but it was time to go. He'd better get back to the cabin he'd rented before nightfall.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sorry but we must leave now. Tomorrow we'll go to Rhodes, my house is close to the city."

"Of course," was all she could reply, her gaze fixed on the mountains.

The journey to the cabin Albert had reserved was silent. The storm was roaring in the distance. She held back from joining Arthur. But she had to keep her promise.

Without Arthur, life would be difficult. Her heart would be broken forever, but she had to try. And one day, they would be reunited. She had to believe that.

The rain finally came, falling on her cheeks and mingling with her tears. She couldn't stop thinking about all those mornings she'd wake up alone. She couldn't accept that he wasn't coming back. Ever.

"Mademoiselle?" Albert's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "We've arrived. You should try to eat something and get some sleep." He didn't know what to do or say.

She followed him silently. Inside, she sat by the window, where she could see the mountains near Beaver Hollow. Soon, she closed her eyes, tears still flowing.

Her mind took her to a river in the middle of the woods. The light wind gently moved the leaves on the trees. She was wearing a long white dress. A branch cracked, startling her. But it was only Arthur, wearing the hat he always wore and the blue shirt she loved so much.

"You're beautiful," he said, and she threw her arms around his neck. "Dance with me?" Was there an answer other than "yes"?

And, each immersed in the other's gaze, they danced. Without stopping, they talked about their future: having a ranch, raising horses, starting a family. A quiet life away from traitors and the Pinkertons. Just them.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, princesses," he replied, kissing her tenderly. A deer passed by them. Then nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, she knew Arthur was gone.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Albert and the young woman began their journey to Rhodes.

"I think you'll like Rhodes very much, mademoiselle. It's much quieter and warmer since the Gray and Braithwaite families, two rival families, entered… well, since they left."

The young woman smiled at the mention. It brought back memories that were certainly recent, but seemed so long ago. But her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared as she recalled Sean's death.

Then came Kieran's turn. Hosea. Lenny. Eagle Flies. John. And Arthur.

Sensing that she wouldn't talk any more than she had the day before, Albert decided to talk to her about anything and everything, in the hope of distracting her from the sadness that overwhelmed her, even if only for a few minutes.

"The landscape is also much brighter. Annesburg offers beautiful scenery, but it's a very dark, eerie area. Rhodes is nicer, warmer."

Albert was right: the further they got from Annesburg, the fresher the air seemed, the more colorful and welcoming the surroundings.

She glanced back one last time, to where Arthur had remained. Her heart sank. She felt she was abandoning him. But she had to stay strong.

Finally, Rhodes appeared before them as the sun tinted the sky orange, ready to give way to the moon.

"Miss, look!"

A majestic deer had stopped in the middle of the road, staring at them with its big dark eyes.

"It's the first time I've seen one approach like that. They're usually very frightened," Albert continued.

The deer approached the young woman and rested its muzzle against her leg. She gently touched its large antlers, then the animal moved away, disappearing among the trees.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

I hope you liked this first chapter!

[vintagetvstars]

Queen of the Graveyard Slot (2/2)

Vote for which Round 3 banished hottie will have the chance to take on the reigning Queen of the Graveyard Slot, Sherilyn Fenn, for the crown!

The winners of these polls will go on to a Final and the winner of the Final will go on to challenge Sherilyn Fenn!

No propaganda this round, you have 1 day to vote with your heart!

[steamyearlgray]

Did you talk about Hellmark 4 yet?

I have not, omg. I was hoping someone would ask about this, thank you so much.

So Hellmark 4 (otherwise known on AO3 as Match Made in Hell) is Primo’s story in the Hellmark universe.

It takes place in 1988, first in London then in Rome, NY (where I have set Ministry HQ). Primo is 19, Secondo and Terzo are 6, and Copia is about 6 or so months old.

Currently it’s 5 chapters long on AO3. I’ve got two versions of chapter 4 and 5 because I lost a shit ton (I mean like 7-10) followers on the fic after I posted them that I haven’t recovered. Also replaced those chapters because I couldn’t got through with killing off a baby.

H4 is doing the worst (statistically speaking) out of all of the hellmarks but I do have to say this is probably the best out of all of them. (I think no one wants a pre-papacy Primo/the boys where they all have actual names other than their papal names)

Which breaks my heart because I’ve really poured time and effort into this one and created a bunch of sweet moments. We have moments with Secondo’s mother and Nihil doing a shit job of parenting.

I’ve thrown the summary and link below the art of you/anyone else is curious about Hellmark 4. (I’ll even throw the new piece I made for it here, I was going to wait until I finished the fic to share it but eh. We know how the story ends anyways)

“Our dark lord made a match for everyone, Dante."

“Is Papa your match then, Mama?”

"I used to think so. I’m sure you’ll meet yours soon enough.”

There is a curse placed on Nihil’s unholy bloodline.

Despite this, he pushes for his oldest son Dante (Papa Emeritus I) to settle down in a vain attempt to continue their reign. Dante is barely grown, when the proposition is made: an arranged marriage.

Eliza is the daughter of one of Nihil’s highest-ranking European cardinals; a man hungry for power and influence in the American branches of the ministry.

Can their cursed union flourish?

[inkedroplets]

19 rich girl please! :D

19. While editing, did you kill any darlings? What were they?

Oh, one must always kill their darlings. It's so funny that by its very nature, fanfic is so very self-indulgent but I've never felt that it means you can't avoid killing your proverbial darlings. There's probably too many to list but I'll list a few. I originally envisioned Sam as Lena's "Guy in the Chair" But it never felt right. I don't think Lena would ever want to draw Sam into that world especially after everything with Reign. One leftover idea that kind of survived that culling was catching Lena in the midst of patching herself up and seeing just how broken and beaten months of vigilante work has been on her body. It really was a very sweet scene but I just felt that Lena would always be incredibly wary of such a situation occurring and Sam had enough on her plate already to keep it. The anti-alien hate groups were initially a lot more than just background plot. It was originally one of the only intersecting plotlines between Metropolis and National City. And there is a throwaway line about Kara never meeting her new neighbors that was a remnant of that.

Eliza chuckled. “I didn’t even get a chance to ask you last night. How do you like your new place in Metropolis? Your new job?” “Well,” Kara said, not quite sure where to begin, feeling as if each part of her life that she wanted to share with Eliza was something altogether too long and complicated to fit into a normal conversation. “I like it just fine. It’s a bit bigger than my place in National City was. Neighbors are quiet. I actually haven’t ever met them… But I guess that’s a good thing?”

Initially, Kara's neighbors were going to be part of the anti-alien terrorist group, keeping tabs on her. I did like how it was beginning to play out but I honestly thought it worked better as this kind of invisible threat that never really registered with anyone. They were trying to operate under the radar and it felt more realistic for them to succeed because of that.

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Another try at @deepperplexity 's Rickmas prompts. Time for some sweet Colonel Brandon <3

December 10: Snow Prints

Colonel Brandon x Female reader

_______________________________________________________

Christopher loved this time of year. Everything was covered by a blanket of soft snow, casting a peaceful spell over the countryside. It had snowed steadily the night before, and today the clouds were high and thin, muffling the sunlight into a cool glow. He was riding his horse across the foothills near Delaford when he saw the tracks of another horse crossing the hill ahead of him. Part of him was curious as to who the rider was. None of the neighbours he knew were much for winter rides. The snow prints continued ahead of him for a bit before they suddenly devolved into a flurry of hoof prints and displaced snow, and a distinctly person shaped dent in the snow. The unfortunate rider had clearly been thrown, and by the footprints had walked in the same direction as their runaway mount. Christopher saw the footprints and the drag marks of a winter cloak trail off down the hill. The rider must be unharmed enough to walk, but it was still a fair hike to any nearby houses. He urged his horse down the path of the tracks. He should check that they were alright, maybe needed help getting home.

It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the person ahead of him. Clad in a dark blue cloak with a hood pulled up over their head, trudging across the snow-covered field. The person turned when they heard Christopher approaching, pulling back the hood as they did so. It was a lady. Christopher was stunned as he looked at her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Locks of her hair had come loose from its style and curled softly either side of her face and her beautiful eyes shone with life. “Hello.” She said. Christopher mentally shook himself, “Hello Miss.” He swung down out of the saddle, and took a few steps towards her, “Are you alright? I saw the tracks up the hill.” “Oh. Yes, I’m alright.” She laughed softly, a bit embarrassed “My horse spooked. A bird flew up from the snow in front of him and I fell when he reared up. No real damage. Thank you for your concern though, Mr…” “Brandon,” He bowed his head, “Christopher Brandon, miss.” She smiled brighter at him, “Colonel Brandon? I believe you know my uncle and aunt, George and Eliza Coppersmith?” Christopher remembered his friends, the Coppersmiths telling him about their niece from London who would be visiting over the winter, “Yes, they did say their niece would be visiting. Although I hardly expected to run into you out here.” “I couldn’t resist taking a ride today. It gets so stuffy in London, and the snow today looked so clean and the air so fresh. But I haven’t ridden in a while, I think I’m a bit out of practice.” Christopher felt enchanted by the brightness of her smile and the bold way she spoke. But then he remembered that they were standing in the middle of a field, standing ankle deep in snow. “It’s quite a walk back to the Coppersmith estate. I can give you a ride back, if you are agreeable with riding double.” He offered. “It’s very kind of you, I accept.” In other circumstances, getting on a horse with a man you’d just me might not be a good idea. But you’d heard your uncle talking about Colonel Brandon, that he was a true gentleman of good character. Now having met the man, you felt that was not exaggerating.

Christopher helped you up to sit in front of him on the horse, one hand on the reigns and the other carefully placed on your waist to hold you steady, he set the horse at a walk towards your home. The two of you spoke softly as you made your way to and alone the winding road. You had never been this close to a man, other than at dances, and it was unlike anything you’d felt before. You were sat with your side resting against his chest, his strong arm around your back keeping you held safe. The feeling of being held like this stirred a warmth inside your chest. You looked up at him as you talked, he was a remarkable handsome man. His strong Romanesque features were countered by soft hazel eyes and his deep, rumbling voice wrapped you up in an embrace all its own. He made you feel relaxed and excited at the same time.

Far to soon, you thought, you arrived at your aunt and uncle’s house. As you approached the entrance, a young stable boy came hurrying out from the side of the house, “Miss!” He called excitedly, “We were worried, your horse came back ten minutes ago without you. We were heading out to look for you.” Christopher was helping you down from the horse and you immediately missed his closeness. “It’s alright, Toby, I’m…” before you could finish answering, your uncle came hurrying out. “Thank goodness, you’re safe. What happened? Are you harmed?” “I’m perfectly alright, Uncle. My horse spooked and threw me. Fortunately, Colonel Brandon found me and helped me home.” Your uncle reached out and shook Christopher’s hand in gratitude. “My heartfelt thanks, Brandon. I’m glad it was you that found her.” You ducked your head a little to hide your smile. You were also very glad he had found you. “It’s freezing out here,” Your uncle continued, “Won’t you come in, Brandon? Join us for some tea and warm up.” Chrisopher’s eyes looked to you quickly before accepting his offer.

After your aunt had equally fussed over you and you’d quickly changed out of your snow crusted riding clothes, the four of you passed a good part of the afternoon in the drawing room. You and Christoper kept ending up in conversations of your own, something your aunt and uncle couldn’t help but notice and feel happy about. It was getting late in the afternoon when Christopher left, needing to head back to Delaford before it got dark. You walked with him to the door, wanting to stay in his company as long as you could. He stopped by the door, fidgeting nervously with his hat in his hands, “I’m so very glad to have met you today.” “As am I.” Still fidgeting with his hat, he said, “I’m hosting a Christmas party on the 21st. I’ve already invited your aunt and uncle. I would be honoured if you would be my guest.” “I’d like that very much.” Christopher’s smile was the most beautiful you’d ever seen, “I was also wondering if you would permit me to call on you again?” You felt your cheeks warm. You’d been so hoping he would ask. “That would be wonderful. Would you perhaps come to lunch on Wednesday?” Christopher gently lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, “Until then, my Dear.”

________________________________________________________

(Ended a bit abruptly but I was having trouble trying to reach a good ending)

[princesscatherinemiddleton]

The Working Royals of the British Royal Family: A Series

Full name: Camilla Rosemary (née Shand, née Parker Bowles) Title: Her Majesty The Queen Birth: 17th July 1947 at King's College Hospital, London Current Age: 75

Camilla is the wife of the reigning sovereign, Charles III. Previously married to Andrew Parker Bowles (m. 1973), Camilla has two children - Thomas Henry Charles Parker Bowles (born 18 December 1974) and Laura Rose Lopes (née Parker Bowles) (born 1 January 1978). After divorcing Andrew in 1993, Camilla married Charles in 2005, in a ceremony attended by all four of their children. She is now the proud GaGa to her ten grandchildren: Prince George, Princess Charlotte, Prince Louis, Prince Archie and Princess Lili, through her marriage to Charles; and Gus, Lola, Freddy, Eliza, and Louis, through her children.

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING’S MAIN EVENT: March 1990

“THE MACHO KING” SPEAKS OUT

By TOM HOFFMAN PHOTOS BY JOHN BARRETT

[Randy “Macho King” Savage acknowledges his “loyal subjects” at Madison Square Garden.]

“Oh yea! Oh yea! No more king, moronic, simpleton, halfwit Duggan! Oh no! Finally, true royalty on the throne!”

That was the only voice that could be heard throughout the whole dressing room area at the Portland WWF TV tapings. Everybody was silent, fan favorites were stunned at Jim Duggan’s loss of his crown. So proudly “Hacksaw” paraded around the ring with his prized possessions. Some admired him, although others just thought him a buffoon, but nobody would deny he was tough. 

Ted DiBiase was standing nearby smiling up a storm. Brother Love moved next to him and said, “That “ Macho Man” has so much love in him. So much love in him for his fellow man and now for his subjects.” DiBiase replied, “This is a proud day for wrestling. A true King has been crowned, whenever he needs me I’ll be there for him, in fact I'll make sure his royal brow doesn’t have to break a sweat.”

Suddenly Sensational Sherri came running down the corridor and jumped into Savage’s arms. “We did it! We did it, my macho God!” Savage abruptly cut her off and nearly threw her to the ground. “We did it?! I did it! Oh yea! Me and me alone, nobody had to help the “Macho King” in all his macho glory! Don’t start turning into a sniveling woman, and get out of my face, I have plans to make!” Savage stepped into a nearby room and slammed the door behind him. Looking over in my immediate direction Sherri said, “He has plenty of work to do! My number one man has plenty of work to do. The true king and queen will have no more disturbance, oh yea!” Virgil then proceeded to escort everybody out of the immediate area. 

Randy Savage’s “friends” were sure that he was not disturbed until his coronation. The man who would be king was following in such a distinguished footsteps as seven-time NWA World Champion. Harley Race and martial arts expert Haku. Already being a former Inter-Continental Champion, as well as a former WWF World Champion, Savage has the credentials to escalate the “crown” to a high position in the rankings. Already “the Macho King” Randy Savage has defended his crown as the main event all over the country on top of the Ultimate Warrior’s title matches. True, the holder of the crown is a well-respected man, but will fans and wrestlers alike accept this as a new form of championship? When Harley Race was king, Bobby Heenan bestowed the honor on him because of his background and respect, but this had no real bearing on Race’s position in the WWF, he had to prove himself, just like everybody else. Haku received the honor, finally, when he defeated and knocked Race out of WWF competition but Hulk Hogan defeated Race at an earlier time. Does this make Hogan “King” Hogan? No, it doesn’t, it shouldn't. Duggan certainly did not deserve the honor of being king, he was more like the court jester. During the Duggan reign, the crown and kingship became a foolhardy campaign. With 2x4 in hand and yelling to the fans, with a cape and crown and that all too familiar stupid look on his face, how can anybody look anything but idiotic? Ironically, Randy Savage as the “Macho King” breathes life into this all but useless honor. Here is a man who truly deserves it and who can reign supreme over his subjects. But it is still not right that the honor of the crown be defended over a prestigious championships such as the Inter-Continental belt, let Savage again prove himself worthy of the main event stays he lost when he came out in the short end of the stick with his feud with Hulk Hogan. Right now, the new “Macho King” of the World Wrestling Federation does not deserve all the attention that he is receiving, a fact that the “Macho King” quickly denies, “Ooo yea! In Everybody’s eyes I am still the World Champion, yea! I was robbed by that oversized buffoon (Hogan) and that no good jezebel, Elizabeth! No one can defeat Macho Madness, oh no Mr. Duggan, that’s a fact that you and all those poor peasants out in the audience must face, yea! The macho King will reign supreme in the WWF forever!”

[Savage used Queen Sherri’s pocketbook to knock out the former “king”, Hacksaw” Jim Duggan.

Savage takes the easy way out, pinning Duggan, who is still out cold.]

Soon, it was time to move on to more important issues. If the WWF insists on making the crown a “championship”, who will be suitable challengers? “Randy, what about future challengers, say men like “Rowdy” Roddy Piper? Do you still have some unfinished business with him?”

“Mr. Reporter, Mr. Reporter, you hit the nail right on the head! Soon “rowdy” Roddy will pay the pier, yea, and that piper will come in the form of the man with the most machismo in the world of wrestling, yours truly. Oh yea, he’s tough, he’s a tough man to stand up to the Ravishing one (Rick Rude) like he did. But soon, he’ll have to move on and I’ll be waiting. Once upon a time, Piper had his “Ace” in the hole (“Ace” Bob Orton), but now I have my Queen in the hole, if you know what I mean.”

Queen Sherri finally made her illustrious presence known, slipping out from behind the “Macho King”, she cut into the conversation almost immediately. 

“Mr. Reporter, Mr. Reporter, you have to show proper respect for his Royal Highness, the “Macho King”! Bow before your king!” commanded Queen Sherri. 

I really did not want to demean myself and lower my head to the “Macho King'', but with men such as Virgil, Ted DiBiase, The Widow Maker, Dino Bravo and The Big Boss Man looking on, I felt i had no choice but to comply. Just as I started to insult my whole family heritage, Savage blurted in, “That's enough! This loyal subject has proven his friendship and respect towards the “Macho King”, you may rise.”

Now that we had all the preliminaries out of the way, I decided to delve deeper into his relationship with Queen Sherri. “Randy, what kind of arrangement do you and Queen Sherri have? Is it strictly professional. Or what?”

As soon as these words came out, I knew it was a big mistake as Randy started to shake. 

[Queen Sherri helps her man back to his feet, after the match.]

“What are you doing Mr. Reporter?! Are you spying for that jezebel, Elizabeth?! Or are you just too nosy for your own good?! Oh yea, you would like to get all the answers, all the answers to all the important questions, delve deep into the “Macho King’s” subconscious.”

“But that’s my job, to find out as much as I can and present the facts to our readers.” By now I decided to take a safer road and concentrate on his career. “Randy, how long do you suppose it will take you to drive Duggan out of wrestling?”

A grin from ear to ear came over Randy Savage’s face, “Now that’s more like it, oh yea! Not long at all, he will fall to the”Macho King”, there is no room for the two of us in wrestling.”

“What about men like the Ultimate Warrior or Dusty Rhodes?”

“What do I need with the Inter-Continental belt anymore?! I am royalty, I rule over all you insects, the “Macho King” and Queen are the number one combination in wrestling! Oh yea, bring them all on, bring on all corners that will challenge the “Macho King” even if they are champions.”

“The Ultimate Idiot? I can wrestle rings around him, oh yea! The machismo of the “Macho King” will send him back to outer space, or wherever he came from. Dusty Rhodes? He epitomizes the degrading derelicts that the “Macho King” has to put up with every day. Oh yea, Dusty, the American Dream, soon you will bow to the one and only rule, the “Macho King”!”

“There’s talk about Al Perez, new here to the WWF, but not new to the readers of Wrestling’s Main Event. He’s really turning quite a few heads, and he says one of his targets is you!”

The theme music started up for the new king of the WWF and he was all ready to proceed down the long stretch of aisle leading to the battle zone. “Al Perez? Oh yea, the “Macho King” has heard things about him. But oh no, I am not yet ready to soil my hands with the likes of him, but soon he will bow down to the true royalty!”

Both Queen Sherri and the “Macho King” pampered into Savage’s crystal scepter as it glowed from the lights shining above it. Savage started shaking even more than before, looking somewhat like a volcano ready to blow it’s top. “Forward! To the danger zone! Battle awaits the “Macho King���!”

Four minutes later, Randy “Macho King” Savage returned to the dressing room area, with his crowd firmly planted on his head. Sherri followed closely behind, “I told you he’s the greatest, oh yea, he’s the “Macho King”!”

A shout bellowed out from Savage’s sweaty locks, “Woman!”. And, immediately, Queen Sherri scampered down the hall after her number one man. 

Who will finally defeat Randy Savage? Being a former Inter-Continental Champion and a former World Champion, he does not want to become a former king. Being at the top, one gets used to the best in life. For over four years in one form or another, Savage has been one of the top seeded wrestlers in the WWF. It’s come to the point where the “Macho King” will do anything not to fall from grace… anything.

[demonsfate]

Theorizing some more so bare with me but I wonder if there used to exist more devils? Like back during Azazel's reign, I wonder if there used to be far more than just two (or three now I guess) devils.

in this ancient depiction, we see two devils along with Azazel. (Also note how they appear naked? Another reason why I don't believe Angel Jin and True Devil Kazuya are wearing armor). Humans are bowing to Azazel, which implicates this is when Azazel ruled the earth.

Here we see somebody (a Mishima?) fight a devil that resembles Azazel... but they appear to be four headed. This might be a higher up Devil, hence it's unique form compared to the others devils, and the fact it looks more like Azazel.

The warrior has been shown to have slain this demon(?).

Another devil the Mishimas are fighting. This one looks very similar to Kazuya's devil form, interestingly enough. Except this one may have had an older host (see the gray eyebrows and beard). This may match my previous theory that every devil has a destined purpose, and this devil's could've been similar to Kazuya's devil - hence why he has a similar appearance.

There's nothing that really indicates that there's an abundance of devils running around at once. Buuuut... it would make sense if Azazel was a leader, he'd have more than a few servants around at a time. It would also make sense as to why we ended up with so many humans that can combat against demons. We have the Mishimas who were apparently devil hunters. We have Claudio's exorcist group. We have the Kazamas who possess a power to subdue the devil within. Iirc, all of these groups / clans seem to have existed for centuries. Along with the Hachijo clan (who are devil gene carriers.)

I also believe that Eliza is a devil / something from Azazel, too. Maybe in the Tek universe, vampires are a branch of Devils (such as a four headed devil apparently existing). Because she REALLY does have a lot of similarities with devils when you look at her. The golden eyes (something Devil Jin had in renders for some reason, and Unknown had them.) The taste for blood (Devil Jin loved eating people). She may lack wings, but she has horns and those black markings (seriously, I don't recall many vampires in other medias having horns)? Her color scheme is similar to Devil Jin's, too. (Granted those are typical goth colors) To top it all off, she has beef with Claudio's exorcist group, too. Sirius or whatever the fuck they're called. And y'know... they're usually known for going after devils. Eliza appears to be immortal being 1000+ years old and having no aged. Meanwhile, devil gene carriers (Jin and Kazuya) seem to age normally. But.. again, she could be a different kind of devil. Maybe a stronger one / one that doesn't depend on a human - born body considering Azazel is also likely thousands of years old.

So I think that perhaps there used to be lots of devils, varying of different types, that were essentially Azazel's servants or soldiers. But then humanity entered a war with devils when they decided to rebel against Azazel. Killing most of the devils in this war with the exception of Eliza, and some Hachijo clan members.

With the exception of 8, ever since 6, Devil Jin has always had a knight outfit. This also makes me feel that this represents that devils were indeed servants / warriors, and that there might've been some war between humans and devils that broke out centuries ago when humanity overthrew Azazel...

[gwydionmisha]

Song of the Worm Cook, Eliza

THE worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there.

Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome.

I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me.

Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

[strnza]

ELIZA  MARTELL,    princess  of  dorne  -    the  dornish  rose.  🥀

dripping  in  sunlight,  valor  and  passion  -  every  day,  she  watches  the  world  pass  by  with  a  sunset  hue.  eliza  wants  for  nothing  and  strives  for  greatness;  willing  to  stop  at  nothing  to  make  what  she  does  in  this  lifetime  matter  more  than  a  loveless  marriage.

third  daughter  of  the  current  standing  house  martell  and  second  youngest  sister  to  dornish  ruler,  prince  qoren  martell,  princess  eliza  martell’s  ever-bleeding  heart  has  a  reputation  of  its  own.  her  kindness  and  empathy  know  no  bounds,  though,  her  impulsivity  reigns  dominant  in  all  her  actions.  she  acts  with  her  heart  over  head,  always,  and  her  siblings  look  to  balance  that  impulsivity  in  the  court  of  dorne  -  myriah  (@godsdefied),  the  middle  martell  child  and  elder  sister  of  eliza,  looks  to  protect  her  younger  sister  where  eliza’s  love  knows  no  bounds.

her  concern  is  not  ruling  for  the  sake  of  power,  it  is  being  at  allegiance  with  &  beneficial  to  their  people.  when  one  thrives,  all  do.  she  disdains  all  that  the  iron  throne  stands  for  -  conquerors,  bloodshed,  war  and  greed.  if  there  must  be  power,  let  it  lie  in  the  hands  of  the  people  -  at  minimum,  let  it  not  lie  in  the  hands  of  one  man  or  woman  on  a  distant  throne,  removed  from  the  reality  of  many.

she  is  a  well-connected  voice  for  the  smallfolk:  perpetually  sneaking  out  of  her  gilded  tower  and  connecting  with  the  people  around  her.  speaking  up  for  those  who  can’t  speak  for  themselves  and  using  her  power  to  the  advantage  of  those  who  truly  need  it,  eliza  is  truly  a  worthy  ally  to  hold  -  underestimate  her  at  your  own  risk.  her  resistant  and  rebellious  spirit  all  stoke  the  flames  of  a  wild  heart.  even  in  the  worst  of  people,  eliza  can  find  a  heart  deserving  of  love.

eliza  is  well-learned  in  a  variety  of  skills  &  talents  at  the  behest  of  her  parents;  she  can  read  &  write,  is  very  fond  of  music,  painting  &  similar  arts  of  self-expression,  and  loves  traveling  to  places  beyond  the  droves  of  dorne.  more  often  than  not,  she  can  be  found  testing  the  limits  of  her  freedom,  giggling  &  scheming  with  her  sister,  myriah  &  lady  in  waiting,  inez  (@godsdefied),  or  tending  to  gardens  alongside  her  pet  tiger,  keli.

historically,  dorne  has  prided  itself  on  its  independence  from  all  external  conflict  -  various  wars  have  come  and  gone,  unrest  from  within  the  heart  of  dorne,  itself,  as  well  as  involving  others.  eliza  is  less  inclined  to  the  blinding  stubbornness  held  by  past  dornish  rulers  -  she  has  no  qualms  in  forming  new  alliances  so  long  as  dorne  and  its  people  are  continued  to  give  fair  deference  in  growing  allyships  and  aid  between  regions.  she  does  not  hold  the  same  opinions  as  others  in  her  standing  when  making  judgments  and  inferences  on  other  household  names  that  she  encounters  -  every  name  speaks  and  acts  for  themselves,  independent  of  those  who  have  come  before.

all  things  considered,  she  is  more  lenient  with  what  the  future  may  hold  for  dorne  if  it  at  all  comes  down  to  her  rule  /  power  /  influence.  do  not  mistake  this  fair  sovereignty  for  spineless  action:  when  tested,  the  heart  fights  back.  make  no  mistake,  eliza  will  always  stand  for  the  people,  culture  and  values  that  are  important  to  her.