#i think thats magpie

[monets-pixels]

the quads are aging up so I can send them to boarding school too

[windupaidoneus]

i know i said good night on main. i Lied. to you. yes you. (clasps hands together) the furries. let's think about them some more why don't we. you know i kinda think hancock could be a civet or something. i think his basic pick would be aaa fox (have not decided on the subspecies but i feel like that would be a fun thing to determine for him) & less uncommon pick would be civet. & THEN we can start assigning him more interesting ones like a magpie or perhaps a bee or ant (he is industrious). a turtle would be cool too

[wolfeyedwitch]

When it's 3 years after the fact and you realize that you accidentally helped a friend name a character Tim Drake.

*facepalm*

To be fair, it's a nickname? But still. When my friend went "hey what should my character Septimus's last name be?"

I said "Drake," because fantasy setting, and it sounds cool, and why not.

It wasn't until later that we got into the whole "Septimus is kind of a mouthful, what would people actually call him?"

And that's when Tim came up as a nickname.

And I put NONE OF THIS ALL TOGETHER until just recently when reading Batfam fics because that's the rabbit hole my current fandom fixation went down via crossover introductions a la dpxdc.

I think I need to go hide in shame now.

[dawn-arts]

A lil thing for a project I'm working on...

[gammija]

This may be a silly question, but what does the acronym TMAGP actually stand for??

oh that's easy, Thousands Many-legged Ants Give-a Performance

(rlly, it's just The MAGnus Protocol! tmp was taken and i didnt like the look/sound of tmap (its not 'the map' smhsmh). Tma episodes are labeled as 'MAG###' so tmagp keeps a bit of that in as well. And a 5-letter acronym is v unlikely to cause a tagging conflict with another fandom in the future, esp with that G in there)

[mc-260627]

Ampelope deep state manifesting 796.59 voters out of thin air for this singular poll against objectively better thunderhead savanna enemy and my dear Tumblr mutual dire vulture

[gongedtornado]

KANGA THE TERRIBLE.

(ramblings in tag)

[whimsicalsesquipedalian]

Y’all, how was I today years old when I found out that THIS is what Eurasian Magpies look like?

Like all along Enid Blyton was describing these adorable little bastards twittering across the moorlands, and my uneducated Australian arse has been here the whole time imagining these beady eyed mother-fuckers

Like, I knew there was a difference…

But THIS

Unacceptable.

[many-gay-magpies]

anxiety oh anxiety. why have you come back to me

[idolmelodies]

Composer's Note #1

While none are (at present) actively hostile, it's not a guarded fact that Magpie is avoided, or in worse cases, shunned, by her legendary peers on the island. This has led to her being somewhat of a fish out of water when it comes interacting with them, sometimes reacting the very same way a mortal would when faced with an extremely powerful and/or elusive being-- despite being considered one herself.

There are some she will be less hesitant or awed by than others and some where the opposite is true. Zacian is perhaps the legendary she can still find some semblance of comfortability with, while Xerneas is the one she'll feel the most on eggshells around. Most other legendaries will fall on a spectrum between this.

This is all excluding her own of course. Magpie will always be delighted to meet another Meloetta!

[wyrmthrice]

I drew a whole buttload of ocs (and some not ocs) for a new desktop bg for me :3

[dahyun]

bison hangin out at a hotel

[dapper-comedy]

“Once upon a time, there were the wolves, and the hunters. Now, the wolves, as you well know, are of the most esteemed nobles and founders of Midsummer Meadows, and we should be so thankful! But back then, they were not quite as fortunate.”

“Well, you mentioned hunters, so I would imagine so.”

The old, weathered hare turned a glare towards Adelaide, and the mouse instantly retreated to her little notepad, pencil scribbling as if something else took her attention completely. The house sounded with rain lightly pattering the roof, wind rudely tapping against the windows; and yet the crackle of the fireplace promised warmth and safety as old hare Liesel let out a quiet harrumph, sinking herself back into her worn red chair.

“If you were half as patient as you were sharp, you’d have gotten the whole story by now, miserable urchin.” She muttered, her paws folding across her stomach, feet extending towards the fire. Adelaide was quite warm enough, her cup of tea (poured out of an obligatory hospitality) already lukewarm now, and untouched, but perhaps a chill in one’s bones came with old age. 

“So... the wolves and the hunters?” The mouse prompted. Liesel made a nasty sound, waving a dismissive paw.

“Yes, yes. The wolves and the hunters. It was miserable times, then. The wolves were mighty, but the hunters outnumbered them. For years upon years, they hunted the wolves, slaughtering them, chopping their heads off, until they kenneled the wolves into a pen. Released like toys, every winter to run, and they would hunt them again. A cruel, vicious cycle.”

Liesel stared into the crackling and popping flames, eyes half-lidded and for a moment, Adelaide was fearful she would fall asleep. But the hare continued.

“It was years of slaughter. Years of hunters playing games, laughing, tossing the bodies of their prey outside the pens, while flinging their heads inside to frighten the new pups that would be born. Until enough was enough. The head of the most esteemed family here, Lord Octavius Levisay, was gifted a dream-”

“A dream?” Adelaide interrupted, leaning forward in her seat eagerly. Her eyes had that glimmer to them, and her whiskers twitched in excitement, “From who?”

“Well, little urchin, if you waited, you might find out!” Liesel snapped. The mouse let out a huff of exasperation, settling down as the old woman cleared her throat.

“As I said, Octavius Levisay was gifted a dream, from Pan himself- You heard me!” She interrupted herself, as if anticipating Adelaide’s next words, and true enough, the mouse was near trembling with emotion. “From Pan himself. He was instructed to take the bodies of the previous prey thrown, and pluck them of their fur. From that, they would craft scarves, imbued with the magic of Pan, that would allow them to tie their heads to their necks. Then, once these scarves were crafted, and held their heads to their necks, on the first night of winter, when they would be released for the hunters to ready themselves in the morning, they would hide their scarves among the bodies in the pen, and run. When they would be hunted, as they would be, their heads thrown into the pen, they would take their scarves, tying their heads to their necks, and run once more- for good. Octavius did not say where, but if it was word from Pan, then it was a blessing they would not refuse.”

“And so, they crafted their scarves, fur glistening with magic of Pan, and the love of their lost ones, and on the first night of winter, they hide their scarves among the decapitated bodies. They were hunted, one by one, their heads chopped, and thrown into the pens. Until they were all found and the hunters ended their hunt early, for there was a blizzard approaching. But this did not stop the wolves.”

Liesel let out a sigh, her lungs whistling like a moth-eaten pipe, and her shoulders hunched up higher, her twitching nose buried in the scarf she wore indoors. 

“Taking their scarves and wrapping them around their necks, they escaped into the night. Their fresh blood stained the scarves scarlet, but did not drip. Octavius led the pack, of course, but it was not an easy journey. Even a trip or fall would cause a wolf to stumble, their head tumbling from their neck, which made them realize something. Pan had not promised the longevity of the magic- gods can be fickle like that.” The hare leaned up from her chair, spitting into the fire, earning a faint sizzle, but nothing else.

“Once their heads fell from their necks, that was it. The magic of the scarves would not bring them back. Many were lost in that blizzard, staining the snow, only to be covered by it once more by the merciless winds. But they continued. Octavius was determined to find a home and safety for his family, and for all beasts and creatures.”

There was a silence, Liesel staring into the fire, and Adelaide looked up from her notepad at last, noting the pregnant pause. This time, she made no prompt or push to continue, letting the silence settle, and making the most of the tea she’d been offered (making a face when she found it now cold).

“The Levisay descendants of today don’t know how exactly they found it. There are many different versions of that part. Some say that on the first day of spring, when the blizzard cleared, crocus sprouted into a path, and led them here. Others say that they stumbled onto a river of ice, it broke, and drifted them to the Meadows.  No one really knows. But they found it. Home. Midsummer Meadows. Of course, they named it different back then- the Equinox Fields, being spring and all. They changed it once they found the wall and the Beings behind it.”

Adelaide cleared her throat, as if asking permission to finally speak, and though Liesel seemed displeased, she waved a paw and thus it was given.

“Could you explain why the Levisay family still wear red scarf-like accessories today? Is it to honor their ancestors and Octavius, or-?

At this, the hare’s eyes gleamed, and a wicked grin crossed her features as she leaned forward in her slumped position (Adelaide was near convinced she’d slide off, relieved the hare was moving up). Her voice lowered, and so the mouse leaned closer, nose twitching at the smell of cabbage and sharp peppermint.

“You didn’t hear it from me,” Liesel whispered, her voice rushed in excitement, “Some call it a curse, others call it a consequence. It’s said that each Levisay born was born with their heads detached. They claim it’s tradition, but my great grandmother worked for them years ago, so I know! I know! It’s unclear why! Whether it be the fickleness of gods, the consequence of dodging death, or the residue of magic in their blood from their scarves... No one knows. But why else do those wolves remain clear of hazards, and keep their scarves and shawls, and dainty little handkerchiefs tied so tightly?”

Adelaide lowered her notepad to her lap, astonished. For a moment, she joined Liesel as they both stared into the fireplace. The history of Midsummer Meadows weighed heavy in her mind, questions occasionally springing up, but none spilling from her lips. Absent-mindedly she sipped at the cold tea, until, as she opened her mouth to speak-

Liesel made another nasty noise, waving her paw once more, as if waving Adelaid away. The mouse blinked blankly, baffled as to what the old hare could want, until her ears twitched- the sound of rain and wind no longer there. The only sound the house cradled was the crackle of the fireplace.

“Well.” Adelaid spoke, her word carrying some finality in it. 

Liesel did not move or speak.

“Thank you, Miss Liesel, for the history lesson.” Adelaide tried again. The hare continued to stare into the fire.

Hopping off her chair, she folded her notepad, and slipped it inside her satchel, before clearing her voice and nodding a farewell, though whether Liesel saw it or not, it was unclear. 

The mouse exited the cottage, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

The sun shone down once more on Midsummer Meadows.

[zapsoda]

there is a very nonimportant character named pica in this book and every time she is referenced all i can think of is the eating disorder why would you name a character that

[vanillabat99]

The Horrors have returned and I am Plagued By Visions yet again.

[bibleofficial]

walked up to my cousin’s step son after the wedding to see if he was doing ok & i was like ‘what u up to :D’ & he said ‘i got a new pet !’ & we looked at the table to see a yellow jacket he caught under the cup, which he described as a bee …. APPALACHIA