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One of the coolest things to remember is that because prey animals have eyes on the side of their head, they are looking at you when they're in profile, not facing you! Hot tip for artists and animal lovers!

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Madame Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun on Louis XVIII, or the comte de Provence, the younger brother of Louis XVI

The portrait I made of Monsieur favoured me with the occasion to become acquainted with a prince whose wit and learning one could extol without flattery; it was impossible not to find pleasure in the conversation of Louis XVIII., who talked on all subjects with equal degrees of taste and understanding.

However, for the sake of variety no doubt, at some of our sittings he would sing to me, and he would sing such common songs that I was unable to understand how these trivial things had ever reached the court. He sang more out of tune than any one in the whole world. “How do you think I sing?” he asked me one day. “Like a prince, Your Highness,” was my reply.

image: a chalk drawing of Louis XVIII, or the comte de Provence, attributed to Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun/source

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Madame Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun on Louis XVIII, or the comte de Provence, the younger brother of Louis XVI

The portrait I made of Monsieur favoured me with the occasion to become acquainted with a prince whose wit and learning one could extol without flattery; it was impossible not to find pleasure in the conversation of Louis XVIII., who talked on all subjects with equal degrees of taste and understanding.

However, for the sake of variety no doubt, at some of our sittings he would sing to me, and he would sing such common songs that I was unable to understand how these trivial things had ever reached the court. He sang more out of tune than any one in the whole world. “How do you think I sing?” he asked me one day. “Like a prince, Your Highness,” was my reply.

image: a chalk drawing of Louis XVIII, or the comte de Provence, attributed to Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun/source

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… On the 23rd [of September] Her Royal Highness played piquet with M. le comte de Provence. M. le dauphin was present, holding a baguette in is hands, and amused himself by hitting the comte de Provence’s arm with it. The prince became impatient and after a few warnings, which did not stop this teasing, M. le comte de Provence jumped on the baguette and tried to tear it away from M. le dauphin. The quarrel heated up; but Mme la dauphine seized the baguette, tore it to bits and ended the dispute.

–Ambassador Mercy to Maria Theresa, 14 August 1772

(Or: The time the future Louis XVI whacked his brother with a baguette until they got into a fight and Marie-Antoinette had absolutely none of that nonsense.)

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From the memoirs of Louis de Bouillé, on the comte de Provence being told about the royal family’s capture after their flight from Paris:

“He listened with an imperturbable calm, an impassive coldness, fro which he only emerged to ask me a few vague questions and from which I was no less revolted than surprised. I do not know if, as he says in his Relation, his tears “which had not been able to flow in the first instant had come to relieve him” before my arrival, but what I can assure you is that we saw no trace of it in his eyes, perfectly dry like his heart, and that only their usual expression of falsity could be noticed, through which escaped some spurts of treacherous satisfaction.

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narrator who's terrible at social cues & describes every facial expression as "unreadable"

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a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

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Glad Midsommar mina bekanta

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Math is really tiring, im so glad i finally get to relax and do some knitting and crochet and i oh god oh my what the fuck

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just a guy and his surprisingly literate lion bestie

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just a guy and his surprisingly literate lion bestie

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in the end, i don't think it matters who is messmer's father. he grew with godfrey, we can totally believe he was raised by godfrey. they both share an appetite for war and blooshed. they both are loyal to the bones. both great warriors and commanders. things you also learn from influence and familiarity as well.

the game makes a good job in making me more interested in their relationship than to know who actually is messmer's father.

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I know I’m late, but now this meme is officially…eternal……

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Imagine the mental states of some of the bosses in Elden Ring? No matter how bad these people are, I feel so bad for them. They’ve been subjected to the worst tortures any fictional universe can have.

Radahn? Can you imagine how awful it felt for his mind to slowly be ripped away from him, year by year? Even if it made him harder to charm…. Imagine the pure pain. The loss. The worry that maybe Leonard won’t make it, or worse, he’ll kill Leonard. He’ll release the stars when he can’t think anymore. Perhaps, maybe, he’d die at some point from the rot. Of course, maybe, he knew his Great Rune would burn at the rot and keep his body, but not his mind, going.

Mohg and Morgott? The Omen twins. Do I really need to go into this? Imagine, being cast into the sewers and being told you’re lucky for not nearly being killed as soon as you were born. Your dad can’t save you, even if he should and wanted to, lest he face the literal wrath of a god. Your mother hates you, you don’t know why yet, and it’s all scary. You’re around bigger omens, who are angrier at the world than you are yet. For Morgott, he gets to watch his brother’s horn grow INTO his eye, all while horns grow out of above his eye, half blinding both of them. For Mohg, the slow pressure of having that horn stab into his eye, and having no way to remove it without it getting infected in this sewer water. After you get out, the world you loved is crumbling, the Frenzied flame needs someone to gaurd it, Leyndell doesn’t have a ruler anymore.

Godfrey? He’s not allowed to have emotions. Everything he wants to feel, wants to get out, ultimately suppressed by Serosh. He wants to yell, he wants to sob at Morgott’s death, we see this, but he can’t, Serosh took that ability from him. Even if Serosh mourns for him, it isn’t the same. Say he’s a warlord, a general, but he still has emotions. He’s human, just like the tarnished. He’s steeled against losing comrades, not the child he never had the chance to spend time with and hoped to see once more. His wife betrays him for what reason? He doesn’t know. He’s cast away, told to die or else he wouldn’t have his strength back, and sent OUT of the land of the Erdtree.

Take a moment in this horrible world, to think what your tarnished is doing, and ask, how much pain have they wrought? Should an uprising be against them?

No I’m not voting against you destroying the world, i’m asking you to look at it from a character’s perspective. Is your character doing it just for the sake? How terrifying is this tarnished? This immortal force, coming to kill you, and all you can do is hope and prey they give up attacking you or don’t absolutely need to kill you yo reach your goal. Because the Tarnished is an omen of destruction, they don’t give up no matter what you put them through.

The world of Elden Ring is so scary to look at it from within. To know the doubt, to know the eternal pain, the everlasting stalemates, and this force of reckoning that runs across the land causing mass destruction…. Yet this force is called your savior. Wouldn’t you try to destroy us too?

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In the spirit of Thanksgiving, how would a dinner night with Queen Marika’s family go? What dishes does each demigod bring, what antics do they pull throughout the night, and who’s being forced to sit at the kid’s table?

*The room is silent save for the picking of food and the ticking of the clock. Marika sits at the head of the table, eye bloodshot and heavilly bagged as she waits, WAITS, for something to happen*

Radagon: ...So... Radahn... how's you latest campaign going?

Radahn: ...Where's Godfrey? I was told Godfrey would be here.

Radagon, putting his head in his hands: Son, I'm trying here.

Rykard: Sorry, dad, I don't think he can hear you over the sound of the fucking divorce papers.

Zoryas, a baby at the moment: Bleh! *clangs spoon against bowlk, wanting more pudding*

Rykard: One moment-

*Ranni takes the opportunity to scoop up baby Zoryas and cuddles her. Zoryas yawns and goes to sleep in Ranni's arms*

Tanith: How are you better at that than me, sister-in-law?

Ranni, look Radagon dead in the eye: MY mother showed me how. She's a good mother

Leonard, the horse, next to Radahn: Neigh!

Radahn: Good point, well made Leonard!

Miquella, at the kids table int he corner: Guys, can we please come to the main table? This plastic chair is hurting my ass.

Malenia, sitting with him in a chair that's comically too small: My legs are getting cramped.

Radahn: OBEY MY RESTRAINING ORDER YOU LITTLE CREEP!

Mohg, from his seat: MINE TOO!

Miquella: I SAID I WAS SORRY!

Messmer: THIS IS THE FAMILY YOU ABANDONED ME FOR, MOTHER?!'

Marika, her concentration finally breaking: I ABANDON A LOT OF FAMILY MEMBERS, MESSMER! YOU AREN'T SPECIAL

Godwyn, as the fight continues: One dinner. I'd like one dinner-

Melina: It's a fools hope, brother.

Morgott: ...Where is father, though?

Melina: I think he said something about catching the main course-

*the doors burst open. Godfrey, bare chested, carries two giant goats over either shoulder. Nepheli is beside him, also carrying a goat*

Godfrey: WE BRING THE MAIN COURSE!

Nepheli: FRESHLY SUPLEXED THIS MORNING!

Radahn: WOOOOOO!

Melina: There they are.

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In the spirit of Thanksgiving, how would a dinner night with Queen Marika’s family go? What dishes does each demigod bring, what antics do they pull throughout the night, and who’s being forced to sit at the kid’s table?

*The room is silent save for the picking of food and the ticking of the clock. Marika sits at the head of the table, eye bloodshot and heavilly bagged as she waits, WAITS, for something to happen*

Radagon: ...So... Radahn... how's you latest campaign going?

Radahn: ...Where's Godfrey? I was told Godfrey would be here.

Radagon, putting his head in his hands: Son, I'm trying here.

Rykard: Sorry, dad, I don't think he can hear you over the sound of the fucking divorce papers.

Zoryas, a baby at the moment: Bleh! *clangs spoon against bowlk, wanting more pudding*

Rykard: One moment-

*Ranni takes the opportunity to scoop up baby Zoryas and cuddles her. Zoryas yawns and goes to sleep in Ranni's arms*

Tanith: How are you better at that than me, sister-in-law?

Ranni, look Radagon dead in the eye: MY mother showed me how. She's a good mother

Leonard, the horse, next to Radahn: Neigh!

Radahn: Good point, well made Leonard!

Miquella, at the kids table int he corner: Guys, can we please come to the main table? This plastic chair is hurting my ass.

Malenia, sitting with him in a chair that's comically too small: My legs are getting cramped.

Radahn: OBEY MY RESTRAINING ORDER YOU LITTLE CREEP!

Mohg, from his seat: MINE TOO!

Miquella: I SAID I WAS SORRY!

Messmer: THIS IS THE FAMILY YOU ABANDONED ME FOR, MOTHER?!'

Marika, her concentration finally breaking: I ABANDON A LOT OF FAMILY MEMBERS, MESSMER! YOU AREN'T SPECIAL

Godwyn, as the fight continues: One dinner. I'd like one dinner-

Melina: It's a fools hope, brother.

Morgott: ...Where is father, though?

Melina: I think he said something about catching the main course-

*the doors burst open. Godfrey, bare chested, carries two giant goats over either shoulder. Nepheli is beside him, also carrying a goat*

Godfrey: WE BRING THE MAIN COURSE!

Nepheli: FRESHLY SUPLEXED THIS MORNING!

Radahn: WOOOOOO!

Melina: There they are.