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#also i messed up the lettering :
raytorotits · 1 year
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couldn't stop myself from doing lettering for the first time in ages. sometimes the emotion is more important than the technique
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generic-internet-name · 7 months
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Hey remember when i bound the first half of from the archives? well i've finally done the rest! and honestly i am so proud of it. i tried some new things with the binding, and i am almost completely happy with how it turned out! the only improvement for next time would probably be actually measuring things.
thank you @sixteenth-days for writing something so good i needed to physically bite it.
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denzartriste · 2 months
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Lulahhh!!! The hands were drawn first try everybody clap look at me go
There's something off about her design i just know but until i draw again i wont be able to fix it so im dealing with it, i really like her shirt thought everyone can compliment the shirt and beanie that's encouraged
myct physically disabled week. Day 2, sign language + HoH/Deafness
I headcanon tallulah as being both mute and deaf to some extent. And she communicates through sign language and writing things down :)
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shalom-iamcominghome · 5 months
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I've gotten to the part in learning alef bet where I'm using parts of my mouth/throat I never really... had to use, and it's so exhausting😭 (looking at you, ר and ח)
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dearshelby · 6 months
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Question - What's Arthur's middle name? Because I could swear all the brothers had Michael but apparently not, because this is a screenshot from the show itself in season 4
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Idk, maybe it's William?
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zannolin · 8 months
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(re-ish)watching ncis in 2023 is like came for the murder and crime solving, stayed for the absolutely unhinged tiva plotline
#zanna talks#ncis you beautiful mess of a show#like yeah it's blatantly nationalistic and Very post9/11 and us military propaganda#it likes to be misogynistic and xenophobic and try to play it as a joke#sometimes gibbs will do things that make me feel ill#and also it looooves praising cops and idolizing the maverick mentality and villifying defense lawyers#um point being it's got a lot of flaws and if i hadn't associated it with childhood nostalgia i'm not sure i could have made it far enough#in my rewatch to hit the point where it actually feels worth it past being a good distraction when i feel bad#like the point where you watch tony really start to grow and the plotlines get better and the relationships deepen etc#but man when it hits it hits#wild to watch it as an adult and realize actually the tiva stuff was there all along with effort put in and it wasnt just me making it up#75% of the time theyre just sniping at each other and being annoying coworkers but sometimes they give u a glimpse#not just of how good thye are as a dynamic but just the mcrt in general?#tony burning the letter from jeanne and trying to let go after realizing his team is like his family??#them being the ones to get ziva out of somalia and not her shitty bio dad and sticking up for her when she wants out???#them always believing in each other when they get framed ?? thanksgiving together??#coworkers as family is highly unrealistic in this day and age and maybe just in general but im willing to allow it bc man. they care.#sorry this got. away from me. what was i even talking about#ncis
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batwynn · 10 months
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Hi! Feel free to ignore this if it's annoying, I was just revisiting Return to Sender which was one of my fave fics for a long time & noticed there were chapters I hadn't read so I read it all again (still as heartfelt as always, u did such an amazing job with it and I'm thankful u shared it) but I saw the last 2 chapters don't load on ao3 nor are they here so I was wondering if there's any place to find them? Would love to read them if possible if not I'll keep cherishing the ones we got x
Ah shoot, I’m really sorry about that. AO3 refused to work properly no matter where I hosted the images, and I’ve tried every possible way to do it so they don’t vanish and every month AO3 would change something and the link would fail.
I did upload (I think, it’s been a while so I might be wrong 🥲) the entirety of the letter fic , that I had completed, on here somewhere, but the links on tumblr were also not behaving at the time and some got lost along the way. I believe I still have the files somewhere on my computer, and since Tumblr allows 30 images in a post now I can try re-uploading what I have in 1-2 posts. Fair warning, though, I might have lost some of the images over the years. 😭 I’ll do my best, though!
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ubashaaa-archived · 2 years
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been drawing a LOT of giorno while on this trip. giorno sweep.
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ultravioart · 1 year
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okay yes maybe a TEENY bit of angst But Peepers is so interesting to me bc he probably thinks he's doing something that would make lord hater happy, by ruling the galaxy. Or at least, the plan would let Peepers be by Hater's side at the end of things (fame, fortune, cheers) which he thinks would make Lord Hater happy. Literally planning to obliterate and subjugate anyone who disses his sir. But love can't be forced. Peepers thinks it can. Hater knows it can't, but wishes it could be. But all that aside, the idea of Peepers being almost irredeemably bad, only saved by the fact he is absolutely smitten/in sappy hearteyed puppydog guy love aka atrociously ENAMOURED with Lord Hater will never not be funny to me?? Like, one day he sees this dood, the most amazing thing to grace existence, and within a millisecond is like "yessir, you DO deserve all the stars in the sky" and then literally goes out into space to give Lord Hater all the stars in the sky.
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norstrum · 6 months
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Music Recs!!! [x2]
Since the poll was 50 50 I decided to list all 10 here then rb it next week so anyone who wants can check out 5 now and 5 later or however many.
1. Quiet by szri ft. Kafu, Gekiyaku, & Nurse Robot_Type T
(Contains: flashing, eyestrain)
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I actually clicked on this song because I liked the visual but half the time when I do that I end up feeling mid about the song. So when I clicked on this one I thought: "Please can I like this song." *songs plays and I get blown away*
I loove how there is everything happening at all times and lyrics and voices sound so strong and powerful especially at the second chorus!!! It gets me every time. I wish I could find an eng tl for it :,)
Also!! If you like this song, you'll like its prequel with the same video warnings, Anaphylaxis ft. Kafu & Gekiyaku!!
2. Kuta Ballerina by 溺底ナイ ft. Gumi
(Contains: minor flashing, could maybe be eyestraining? Idk)
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The tune is so catchy and my fav part is around the 2 minute mark :D It's so underrated....
3. [No title] by Hya ft. Kasane Teto SV
(Contains: flashing, eyestrain, general horror vibes and visuals, jumpscare-type visuals)
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This one rocks so much it dives straight into rap and I'm like hell yeah!! and the lyrics are so scathing I love it!!! Also it has fucked up love in it that's my jam!! This is my second song with Teto SV and she sounds soo amazing I love how versatile ppl can get tuning her.
I'll put the rest below a cut bc the post is getting long :O and I talk a lot :) pls also check out the ones below the cut they are all so great!!!!
4. Nightless City by Fake Type ft. Kankan
(Contains: flashing, eyestrain)
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You know that one tumblr post talking about how some songs are like breaking in shoes, and you have to listen to them a few times before you start to really like it? That's me but somehow with all Fake Type songs!! Like if I get past like 20 repeats I suddenly go wow this rocks. And this does rock.
I'm also obsessed w the main character's design plus the video effects and the lyric typography and I don't even read japanese it's just that awesome <3
5. Circus Panic!!! by 32ki ft. Hatsune Miku
(Contains: Frequent cuts to black, then back to the pic again, but not flashing per se?)
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A while ago every song I listened to felt completely flat and boring till I realized it was a me issue and then when I slept it off this was the first song I listened to that I enjoyed so it was really revitalizing for me. It has so much energy and I especially like the break into hardcore fast dubstep-esque section :3 and the end where it gets faster ever so slightly bit by bit you don't notice it till the end... so good!!!
6. Devil's Devil by zensen ft. flower & Kafu
(Contains: Some sudden cuts to black)
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The balance between lyrics and cool ass instumental section is very epic :D Idk the plot but based on everything I see I imagine it to be like "us kids of some rich royal guy want to summon a demon that's kill our dad for us so we can inherit his fortune and rule together" or something ghfjdh... I appreciate the eng words shown throughout lol
7. Viper Viper by Fushi ft. Reml
(Contains: Cuts to black, so much eyestrain, minor animal death (rat/mouse), minor blood)
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I have never heard of Reml before this song but I like her voice!! Also like the energy in this song!!!
8. Manhattan by wotaku ft. Shiki
(Contains: flashing, gunshot sound + gun visuals every so often)
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Honestly this one is really cool <3 I'm really impressed with the bar visual as well. Like.... that's all 3D??? WHAT?? So epic. There's also a Meiko cover in the description of that vid for the Meiko fans out there.
9. Self Proclaimed Angel by Katachi ft. Tsurumaki Maki
(Contains: flashing, eyestrain (mostly at the end))
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Never heard of Tsurumaki Maki before this song either but like omg..... the tuning is sooo good... and the song has a unique structure that I really love!!! And ponkansoup MV 👀 very epic I always like their MVs and also songs. And I also like story songs a lot!! So really a banger all around!!!!!
10. Diabolic Swing by t+pazolite
(Contains: eyestrain & flashing)
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T+pazolite my beloved their songs always rock!!! I'm obsessed. Cute anime girls!!! This too is yuri (destroying the whole DJ club) Yayy <3
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uuyuomi · 3 months
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greetings mae!! it is i ~
i saw your reblog to my sappy post the moment i woke up and i was just internally sobbing lmao but! i am here to not just thank you for your kind words and very felt statement regarding the fontaine brainrot ( as a music girlie, the music hit me harder than the actual lore itself /gen ) but also send my best regards for the new year to you!
happy new year mae bubs 🤍 you are such a sweetheart and i am so thankful i've gotten to be moots with someone not just talented, but incredibly kind as well! i remember almost shedding a tear when i saw your reblog to one of my fics, reading the tags and almost going (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)
here's to 2024 treating you kinder than 2023 ever did bub (⁠/⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠(⁠-⁠ω⁠-⁠) remember to take care, treat yourself to many nice things to your heart's content and most importantly — the best with it all. you're getting back to writing, no? i believe you're very talented, and i believe in your capabilities just as much, so remember to not rush on the process, alright? otherwise 'zuha will be giving you a lecture regarding your time ( in the /lh style like the kind soul he is )
take care bub, and happy new year once again 🤍
— signed, ayame.
ugh, ayame always leaving the kindest of messages in my inbox i swear (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥) i could go back and forth with these interactions all day long with her but we’ve both got days ahead filled with writing to complete so i’ll leave that for another day! /hj
thank you for your sweet words girlie and being called talented by you and your encouragements AHHH stop </3 but right back at you and more!! let’s hope 2024 is smooth riding from here on out!
( side blurb: kazu is totes the type to give those light hearted lectures & man, let me tell you, the amount of times i’d be receiving those is unfathomable. come out crying in the end—not in a bad way more like “omg youre so right i feel so guilty” kind of way—while he’s just there going ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ & giving reassurance/comfort )
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raayllum · 2 years
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Here we see Rayla at age 8 thinking it’s her fault and weakness that she couldn’t defeat an evil adult sorceress single handedly, to being ‘too weak’ to be an assassin, routinely de-valuing herself unprompted (after all, why can’t she and the egg both matter?) and putting all the blame when things go wrong on her shoulders, believing that Callum and Ezran will be just fine in the mission without her, that she always expected to lose Callum someday and just didn’t want it to be “like this,” believing she’s fully deserving of her banishment and that there’s something fundamentally wrong with her, that her guilt over a mistake she didn’t even make is driving her to stay at the Spire to die, and that after spending a whole comic having nightmares about Viren hurting Callum, she feels it’s her responsibility to take down Viren, because...
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and she can’t let that happen again. 
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atlantic-riona · 1 year
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Exile of the Sons of Uisliu
A (long! very long!) retelling of the tale, Longes mac nUislenn (“Exile of the Sons of Uisliu”), an Irish tale from the Ulster Cycle of medieval Irish literature. Written for the Four Loves Fairy Tale event by @inklings-challenge.
Notes: I’ve published part of this before, though right now I can’t find the post. I finished it for the challenge, as it fit well with the themes. It was originally intended to be a retelling that made it easier to approach medieval Irish literature for those who felt intimidated by the often more archaic translations. As such, it sticks very closely to the two sources I was working from, though events from both get blended together in a way that weren’t, strictly speaking, present in both tales. See the end of the story for sources (with links!) and further notes about the adaptation process.
Pronunciation: “Derdriu” = “Deer-druh,” Noisiu = “Nee-shuh,” “Cathbad” = “Kah-vuh,” “Conchobar” = “Kon-cho-var” (with the “ch” as in “loch”, though I’ve heard various other pronunciations as well, Leborcham = “Leh-vor-cham, Cúchulainn = “Koo-chull-in”, “Uisliu” = ish-loo, “Eogan” = “Oh-wen”, and “Medb” = “May-uhv”. The other names should be less tricky, but let me know if you have problems with them.
This is the story of Derdriu.
Of beauty in death.
Some say the story begins before she was even born, at her scream from her mother’s womb. This is somewhat true; it was indeed this scream that caused the men of Ulster to rise from their beds and demand to know its origin. And it was this scream that caused her mother to press her hands to her face and deny any knowledge of its origin, despite the fact it came from her own womb. Indeed, it was this scream that caused Cathbad, the great and wise druid, to set the question of its origin at rest.
He said, “It is your daughter, woman. Her loveliness will surpass all others; her green eyes and tall form will cause envy among queens and desire among kings. Men will slaughter for her and over her, and heroes will do great deeds in her name.”
He said, “She will bring great evil to our land.” Then he fell silent and no more was said on the subject.
And some say the story begins when Deirdre entered the world for the first time, innocent of her great power and tragic fate. Again, the druid Cathbad prophesied of the evil that would follow in the girl’s wake, of jealousy and war and exile. And of death, of beloved children and heroes alike.
“Her tale will be famous,” he said, “as famous as the graves of the men who fought for her and the men who come after her.”
Hearing this, the men of Ulster cried aloud, “Kill the child! Kill her!” For they did not wish to see Ulster and its people suffer such a fate.
“Wait!” came one voice from the crowd. It was Conchobar, king of Ulster. “This girl won’t be killed; I want her for myself. I’ll make sure that no man sees her before we are wed, so there will be no fighting. And so that there will be no jealousy either, no woman will see her.”
No man present defied him.
And so Derdriu was taken away and raised by foster-parents. True to his word, Conchobar let no one else see her-except for Leborcham, who was Conchobar’s messenger and a satirist. It was she who acted as nurse and teacher to Derdriu. Besides them, Derdriu had no contact with anyone or anything from the outside world.
A lonely life for anyone, to be sure.
Years passed, and Derdriu, as predicted, grew into the most beautiful woman in all of Éire. Her hair was yellow as a warrior’s cloak, and her eyes were green as the land she walked on day after day; her lips Parthian-red and her teeth pure white. She saw no one but her foster parents and Leborcham, who had grown very fond of the girl.
One winter day, Leborcham and Derdriu sat outside watching her foster-father slaughter a calf for their supper. The blood from the calf stained the snow, and a raven swooped down to drink it.
Derdriu was struck by this, and said to Leborcham, “I'd like a man such as that: hair as black as a raven, cheeks as red as blood, and body as white as snow.”
A familiar story, is it not?
Without thinking, Leborcham replied, “Then may you have success, for there is one close by. Noisiu son of Uisliu is the man you’re seeking.” Then she fell silent, for she had remembered that Derdriu was bound for Conchobar’s bed.
“I want to see him,” Derdriu said.
“You musn’t,” Leborcham said reluctantly.
“If I don’t, I’ll be sick.”
This went on for some time, until Leborcham agreed to lead Derdriu to where Noisiu was. However, she refused to do anything more than that, for although she was fond of the girl, she could see nothing but harm in encouraging anything further.
Noisiu’s habit was to wander the ramparts of Emain Macha, the place where Conchobar and the other Ulaid gathered, chanting to himself. The chanting of Noisiu and his brothers was said to increase the milk of any cow that heard it, it was that pleasing to listen to. And for any man or woman who heard their chanting, they at once felt peace and happiness.
Do not think that the sons of Uisliu were skilled only in chanting or other such arts. Their skill in battle was renowned; they were swift and strong, and if the three brothers had to fight all of Ulster at once they would be so skilled with their blades and so able at defending one another that it would be a long time before their defeat.
And they were honorable, too; it was their honor that would be their downfall in the end.
Having gotten Leborcham to tell her of this tradition of Noisiu’s, Derdriu made a plan.
Noisiu was walking along the ramparts alone, chanting, when Derdriu came up to him. As though she intended to pay him no attention or recognition, she strolled past him, his fine voice making her heart beat faster.
Noisiu stopped his chanting and watched her go by. When she made to pass him entirely, he said, “That is a fine heifer going by.”
“As well it might,” she said, and turned to face him. At seeing her beauty, he recognized her for Derdriu, King Conchobar’s future wife. “The heifers grow big where there are no bulls, you know.”
“You have the bull of this province all to yourself,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. “For you are to be wed to Conchobar himself.”
She tossed her head. “Of the two, I’d pick a game young bull like yourself.”
“Cathbad’s prophecy,” he said. “Have you forgotten it?” When she made no reply, he reminded her: “He said you will bring death and destruction to the men of Ulster. Your marriage to Conchobar is the solution to that.”
“I don’t want the men of Ulster or Conchobar,” she said and looked at him. “I want you.”
He shook his head and made to leave, although he did not wish to.
“Are you rejecting me?” she cried.
“I am.” 
She darted around in front of him and gripped him by the ears. “If you don’t take me with you, may shame and mockery fall upon you!”
“Leave me alone!”
“You’ll do it!”
“Woman, I will not!”
“My name is Derdriu,” she cried, “and I love you, Noisiu son of Uisliu! I loved you before I knew your face or form or voice, and now that I have seen them I love you even more! I will love you until the day I die!”
He reached up and pulled her hands from his ears. “Hush, or you’ll wake the whole of Ulster! Already the warriors inside exclaim and reach for their swords.” But he did not let go of her hands.
“It seems to be their recurring reaction to me,” she said, and they looked at each other without saying anything.
Perhaps Derdriu’s story begins here, where she and Noisiu made plans to slip away later that night when the sons of Uisliu and their company departed Emain, with Derdriu planning to hide amongst the women. Of course Noisiu’s brothers, Ardán and Annle, came with the two, and it was they who suggested seeking refuge with another king of Ireland. 
Whatever the start of the story was, this point was certainly the beginning of the end for all four of them.
They traveled from king to king, from one place to another, hunted by an angry Conchobar and all his warriors. Finally, in order to be free, they left Éire and escaped to the land of Alba.
They had no friends there, and so settled in the wilderness. Despite the fact that she was once again living with only three other people for company, Derdriu was happier than she had ever been. The brothers hunted for game, and when that ran out, they raided for cattle.
It was to be expected that the people of Alba rose up against them. As has been said before, the sons of Uisliu were skilled in many things, and cattle-stealing was certainly one of those things they excelled at. The people of Alba, however, excelled at disliking those who stole all of their livestock and food, and were certainly willing to do something about it. Both sides were well-matched, despite the brothers being greatly outnumbered. But the brothers were sick of fighting, and they searched for an alternative.
So they made an offer to the king of Alba: they would stop stealing cattle and in return, he would hire them as his soldiers. It was a good offer, and the king accepted it.
Noisiu and his brothers built their houses among the other warriors, but were careful to build them so that Derdriu could not be seen from the outside. For they did not wish for her beauty to bring them the same kind of trouble they had tried to escape in Éire. And for a time this worked.
But then, one day, the king’s steward came by early in the morning when everybody was asleep. He saw Derdriu and Noisiu sleeping peacefully, and even in sleep, Derdriu’s beauty struck him silent.
The steward went to the king, who was sleeping. The steward said, “My king, my king, I have found the perfect woman for you. She lies with Noisiu son of Uisliu even now, and she is a woman worthy of any king in the world. If you kill Noisiu now, you can have her to wife.”
The king declined to have Noisiu killed, saying, “Go instead and ask her every day in secret if she will leave Noisiu and wed me.”
And so every day the steward came to visit Derdriu while the brothers were away. And every day, she turned him down. At night, when the brothers returned, she told Noisiu of the steward’s visits.
“This is a bad business,” said Noisiu, “but I can’t see what there is to be done about it yet.” For if they offended the king, they could not return to Éire, and where else could they go? So the visits continued.
As Derdriu refused the king’s advances day after day, the king tried a different tactic. He ordered the brothers into fierce battles and set dangerous traps for them in the hopes that they would be slaughtered. But the sons of Uisliu were so skilled in battle and so clever that they always ended up unharmed.
Finally, the king grew weary of all this. “Try her one last time,” he told the steward. “Then we’ll kill the sons of Uisliu and take her anyway.”
The steward did as the king commanded. He said to Derdriu, “Listen. If you don’t do as the king wishes, he will gather up all the men of Alba and slaughter your beloved Noisiu and his brothers. Is that what you desire? Rather, by going to the king you may save their lives.”
It is not known what exactly Derdriu said to him after that, but it is certain that it was yet another refusal. The steward went away angry, and told the king that Derdriu had rejected him yet again. The men of Alba were called. Derdriu saw that they were many in number, too many for the sons of Uisliu to defeat without terrible cost.
Noisiu, Ardán, and Annle came home and Derdriu told them what the steward had said.
“You must leave,” she said. “If you don’t leave tonight, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Ardán, the youngest brother, said, “Will you not be coming with us, then?”
Annle, the middle brother, said, “It would certainly be a waste of all our efforts so far if she did not.”
And Noisiu, the eldest brother, said, “Do you not think we can protect you?”
So Derdriu went with them. They left that very night and traveled over the sea until they reached an island that was between Alba and Éire. The king of Alba pursued them with many men, but the sons of Uisliu fended them off in a series of battles deserving of their own heroic legend.
The news of the exiles’ flight from Alba reached Éire. Everybody said to Conchobar that it would be a great shame if the sons of Uisliu fell to an enemy king in an enemy land by the fault of a bad woman. “Forgive and protect them instead, Conchobar, and let the sons of Uisliu come home,” they said. “It is better to do this then to let them be harmed by enemies.”
“Very well then,” Conchobar said. “Let them come home. I will guarantee their safety. Send for them.”
“Who will take the message?” they asked.
“It is well known that Noisiu son of Uisliu will only come in peace to Éire again if he is brought by one of three people: Cúchulainn son of Sualdam, Conall Cernach son of Amergin, and Fergus mac Roich,” Conchobar said. “I will choose one of them.”
He took Conall aside and asked him, “What would you do, Conall, if I sent you to bring the sons of Uisliu back to Éire and through some cunning and betrayal-not my own, of course-they were slaughtered despite your promises of safety?”
Conall answered, “Any Ulsterman, no matter who he was, would fall at my hand. No man would escape my wrath.”
“That is a good answer, Conall,” Conchobar said. “But I see you will not be my choice.”
Next he asked his nephew Cúchulainn the same question. 
Cúchulainn was more perceptive and answered thus: “I swear that if you were to ask me to do such a thing, and to bring them home to be slain by you, I would take no bribe from you, great though it might be, in favor of taking your own head for such a deed.”
“I see that you do not love me either, Cúchulainn,” Conchobar said, and sent him away.
He called Fergus over to him and asked him the same question.
And Fergus said, “I swear not to attack you yourself, but if any Ulsterman should attempt harm on them, death and destruction will meet that man by my hands.”
“You will be messenger, Fergus,” Conchobar said. “It was you who had the best answer.”
So Fergus mac Roich was chosen as messenger. He sailed to their island, accompanied only by his son Fiacha, but could find no traces of the exiles. He made a loud call for them. Derdriu and Noisiu were playing fidchell, and both heard Fergus’ shout. 
“That is a man of Éire shouting,”said Noisiu, looking up from the board.
Derdriu recognized it as Fergus’ voice, but said, “No, you are mistaken. That is a man of Alba.”
Again Fergus shouted, and again Noisiu looked up from the board. “There it is again, and this time I am sure it came from a man of Éire.”
“You are mistaken,” Derdriu said, “and now it is your turn. Play on.”
Fergus shouted a third time, and this time Noisiu knew for certain his voice was that of a man from Éire. He rose from his seat and told Ardán to go and meet the speaker, to see who it was. For it would make them poor hosts if they neglected their guest any longer.
“I know who it is,” said Derdriu. “It is Fergus mac Roich. I recognized his voice from the start.”
Angry, Noisiu demanded to know why she had concealed this from him.
“I dreamed last night,” she said. “I dreamed that three birds flew to us from Emain Macha, and that in their beaks were three sips of honey. They left the honey with us, but took three sips of our blood in return.”
Noisiu sat down. “What do you think your dream meant?” Dreams might foretell the future or provide insight into the present, and so were not to be ignored.
“Fergus comes from our beloved home bearing a message of peace, but the message he bears is false, for a false message of peace is sweeter than honey. That is the meaning of the honey.”
“And the blood?” said Ardán, for he hadn’t left yet.
“The three sips of blood the bird took from us,” said Derdriu, “are the three of you, who will leave with him and be tricked.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” said Ardán. The others agreed.
Then Noisiu said, “Never mind that for now. We’ve left Fergus waiting at the harbor for far too long. Ardán, go and fetch him.”
Ardán, grumbling, went down to fetch Fergus. But he was much heartened to see him and his son, and kept asking tidings of Éire, and of Ulster especially.
“It’s glad we are to see you,” Fergus and Fiacha said, “and we’ll tell you everything when everyone’s there to hear it.”
And when Noisiu and Annle and Derdriu saw the travelers, their hearts were gladdened also; and they also asked for tidings of the land they missed so dearly.
“We bring the best tidings,” Fergus said. “I have been sent to bring you back to Éire. Conchobar guarantees your safety, and I swear to you I’ll see you safe to him on the very day we set foot back in Éire.”
“Don’t go,” said Derdriu to Noisiu. “It will end badly, I’m sure of it.” 
But the brothers dearly missed their homeland, and great was their desire to return.
“We will go,” they said. And even though they longed to return, they were also practical and knew they must put in safeguards. “But only if you yourself, Fergus, accompany us, as well as Dubthach and Conchobar’s eldest son Cormac, and if all three of you swear as to our safety.”
Fergus agreed to this, as it was a prudent request, given what had happened the last time the four had set foot in Éire. 
But Derdriu argued against it; she said that going to Éire would be their doom and that she felt sure their deaths awaited them there. And although the brothers pleaded and cajoled, argued and promised, she would not be swayed.
Finally Fergus said to her, “You need not fear, lady: should all the men of Éire betray you, I will fight and defeat them no matter how great their number. Their shields will be poor protection against the wrath of my sword. Of that you may be certain.”
“Friend Fergus,” she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”
They boarded the ship and set sail for Éire. As they passed Alba’s shores, Derdriu looked behind her at them and cried, “Farewell to you, O land that I loved! O land that was my home, I will miss your shores and hills, and the happy days we spent among them. O land, I will not see you again in this lifetime.”
Then she sang a lament, mourning all the places she had loved and lost. “If it were not for Noisiu,” she said, “I would not have left them.”
Dubthach and Cormac met them when they landed. The sons of Uisliu were so glad to be home that they swore they would not rest or eat until they had eaten Conchobar’s food. So the group started their journey at once.
Alas, Conchobar’s treachery knew no bounds. For he had sent Borrach mac Annte to draw Fergus away from them, and this was how he did it.
There was a geas upon Fergus, and it was this: he could not refuse an invitation to a feast. A geas was a powerful thing, and the breaking of it would lead to one’s doom.
Borrach met up with the group on the road and invited Fergus to several feasts. Fergus grew red with anger and cursed Borrach, saying it was ill-done of him to pick today of all days to invite him to a feast. Borrach would not rescind his invitations and so Fergus was caught between his promise to see the sons of Uisliu safely to Conchobar and his old geas.
“What should I do?” Fergus asked Noisiu.
Derdriu said, “Do what you want, friend Fergus. If you prefer to forsake us for a feast, then by all means do so. Leaving us is surely a good price to pay for a feast.”
“I won’t forsake you,” he said. “I’ll send my son Fiacha on with you and my own word of honor as well. And there will be Dubthach and Cormac as well.”
But Dubthach and Cormac chose to remain with Fergus, leaving only Fergus’ son Fiacha to accompany the sons of Uisliu and Derdriu.
“We give you thanks,” said Noisiu to Fiacha, “since none but our own hands have ever defended us in combat.” They were angry with Borrach, and left quickly. 
Fergus was gloomy about that but trusted that the whole of Éire could not defeat Fiacha.
“Noisiu,” Derdriu said, “I will give you some advice, although you will not listen to it.”
Noisiu drew her closer. “What is this advice of yours, O Derdriu?”
“Tonight we should go back to our island and remain there until Fergus has finished with his feast. Thus his word will be fulfilled and we may continue onward with him as safeguard.”
“That is evil advice,” Fiacha said. “My father has sworn to see you safe home today, and I am duty-bound to carry out his oath. Do you doubt his honor? If you turn back now it will be an insult.”
Derdriu was silent for a long time. At last she spoke: “Great is the evil fallen upon us today because of Fergus, since he abandoned us for a feast.” She was greatly sorrowed, for she had only agreed to come back to Éire because of Fergus’ oath to protect them. And then she chanted:
“Great is my grief that I have come 
at Fergus’ word, that reckless son of Roich.
I will lament and mourn forevermore—
and my heart is bitter because of it.
O sons of Uisliu—
your last days have come.”
Noisiu chanted in response:
“Say not such things,
O woman as radiant as the sun!
Fergus would not have fetched us
if destruction were in his heart.”
Derdriu chanted:
“Alas, I grieve for you,
O delightful son of Uisliu!
To have left our home in strange lands—
nothing good will come of it.”
They came to the White Cairn of the Watching, on Sliab Fuad. There was a pleasant glen there. Derdriu stayed behind and fell asleep. At first they did not notice she was not with them, but Noisiu, turning to say something to her, let out a cry of startlement. 
“What is it?” Annle asked.
“Derdriu is not with us; she must have fallen behind.”
They hurried back and arrived there just as she was waking up. Noisiu knelt beside her. “Why did you stay behind, Derdriu?”
“I fell asleep,” said she, “and as I slept I dreamed.”
“What did you dream of?” he said.
“I saw each of you without a head,” she said. “I grew frightened and woke up.”
“It was only a dream,” he said.
“A sad dream,” she said.
Then they traveled onward to a place known as “the Height of the Willows.” Then Derdriu said to Noisiu, “I see a cloud of blood about your head, and I would give all of you advice!”
“What is your advice, Derdriu?” Noisiu asked.
“To go tonight to Cúchulainn’s place of dwelling and stay there until Fergus comes; or to have Cúchulainn escort us with promises of safety to Conchobar.”
“I am not afraid,” said Noisiu, “so we will not do that. And we have sworn to stop for nothing until we reach Conchobar anyway.”
Derdriu sang a song, then, about the great cloud of blood she saw hanging over Noisiu’s head, but Noisiu ignored this. 
They went onwards through the familiar lands, accompanied by Fergus’ son Fiacha, until they came to the green at Emain Macha.
While they had been traveling to Emain, Conchobar had made peace with his old enemy, Eogan mac Durthacht, the king of Fernmag. Eogan was to kill Noisiu and his brothers, and any who opposed this.
So when Derdriu, the sons of Uisliu, and Fiacha came to the green at Emain, Eogan was waiting for them in the middle of it with Conchobar. Hired soldiers surrounded Conchobar so that the sons of Uisliu could not reach him. Behind them, women sat on the ramparts of Emain to watch the fighting.
Eogan and his men came to where the sons of Uisliu stood. Fiacha was standing at Noisiu’s side. Eogan delivered Conchobar’s welcome to Noisiu with a spear thrust so fierce it broke his back. Fiacha grabbed Noisiu and flung himself over him, bringing them both down to the ground. The second spear thrust through Fiacha’s body ended Noisiu. Then the green came alive with battle.
Ardán and Annle defended Derdriu fiercely. They linked their shields together and put her between them, and such was their skill that they slaughtered all those who came against them.
Seeing so many fall, Conchobar turned to Cathbad the druid. “O Cathbad, work some enchantment upon the sons of Uisliu. See their skill and how many they have slain. If they should escape now, Ulster will never be safe from them. I swear if you do this, I will not harm Uisliu’s sons.”
Conchobar’s words were persuasive in the face of all the dead strewn about the green, and Cathbad believed him. He lifted a hand and suddenly a sea, with great waves that crashed like thunder, lay ahead of the sons of Uisliu and Deirdre. Behind them, not two feet away, were the men of Ulster, waiting for the chance to strike. The sea surged ever closer, threatening to engulf them, and the brothers placed Derdriu on their shoulders so that she would be safe from drowning.
With the sons of Uisliu thus trapped, Conchobar ordered someone to kill the brothers. But no man of Ulster moved, for everyone there had borne Noisiu and his brothers great love.
But Eogan mac Durthacht spoke up, saying that he was ready to behead them both.
“Since that is so,” Ardán said, “kill me first, as I am the youngest.”
“No,” Annle said. “Kill me first instead.”
Then Eogan struck a blow that severed the heads of both on the spot, and all the Ulstermen cried out in grief.
Fergus had been told of the treachery of Conchobar, and came now with Dubthach and Cormac to Emain. They entered the green, and saw Noisiu, lying dead under Fiacha’s body, and Ardán and Annle, beheaded by Eogan.
Furious at how his oath had been broken and his son slain, Fergus gave battle to the men of Ulster. Dubthach and Cormac joined him. All three fought fiercely, and many fell by their hand that day, including Cormac’s younger brother Maine.
During the fighting, Deirdre slipped away to the far side of the green, and it was there she happened to meet Cúchulainn, returning to Emain Macha. 
“Are you here to betray us too?” she said to him. “The sons of Uisliu lie dead on the green of Emain; you may as well kill the daughter of Fedlimid and lay her with them.”
“Dead? Betrayed?” Cúchulainn asked, and Derdriu told him the whole sorry tale. At this a glint came into his eye and he said, “That is sad news indeed. Who killed them?”
“Eogan mac Durthacht,” she said. “But it was at Conchobar’s demand.”
“Let us go and find them,” Cúchulainn said, “and make sure they have a proper burial.” He had not yet realized that his foster-father Fergus was the one leading the fight against Conchobar and Eogan’s men, and so he did not join the fight himself—though if he had, it would not have gone well for his enemies.
They came to the place where the bodies lay, and Derdriu flung herself down on top of Noisiu and kissed him, her lips red with his blood. “Without the three sons of Uisliu, I am not alive,” she said. “A day spent with them was full of mirth; a day without them a day of mourning. A curse on Conchobar, a curse on Cathbad, a curse on me—I wish I had died, that trickery and floods on my behalf had not killed them!”
And she sang a song of lamentation, refusing to part from the fallen brothers, though Cúchulainn tried to persuade her to flee to safety.
There was much weeping in Emain that day; and not just for the many brave Ulstermen who had fallen at the hands of Fergus, Dubthach, and Cormac. Dubthach slew the women of Ulster, and Fergus burned Emain. Three thousand men joined them when they went to Connacht. Ailill and Medb, the rulers of Connacht, welcomed them—not out of any great love, but because of the enmity between them and Ulster. With Aillil and Medb they found protection, but the exiles’ vengeance did not stop there. There was not a single night that passed from that day without the exiles wreaking more destruction and sorrow upon Ulster.
As for Derdriu, she was with Conchobar a year. During that year she did not smile. She barely ate, she rarely slept. She rested her head on her knee and would not lift it, though Conchobar brought musicians to try and raise her spirits.
When the musicians came, she would chant:
“You say the men of Emain coming home 
triumphant is a brilliant sight to see;
I say that more brilliant was the sight
of the sons of Uisliu returning home.
Noisiu bearing mead, 
Ardán and Anle bearing meat—
a sweeter supper by far
than any at the table of Conchobar.
The airs you play today lack the music
of Noisiu, who sang like the sea,
of Ardán, who sang bright as sunlight,
of Anle, who sang like the wind in the trees.
I loved Noisiu, the great hero—
loved him to his death.
I don’t sleep, I can’t sleep—
the son of Uisliu will never return.”
If Conchobar tried to calm her, she would say, “What are you thinking, you who heaped sorrow upon me? I might live a hundred years or more, and yet even then I wouldn’t have any love for you. You took the thing I loved most in the world, and I will not see him until I die. I weary of you—I see nothing but the dark stones of the grave covering Noisiu, once so bright and beautiful.”
And if he persisted, she would say to him, “Fergus wronged us, taking us over the sea to you. He sold his honor for a drink. If all the warriors of Ulster gathered before us today, without hesitation I would trade them all for Noisiu. Do not break my heart further today; I am not long for the grave. My sorrows are higher and heavier than the waves of the sea. If you were wise, you would know this.”
One day, Conchobar tired of this and asked, “Who do you hate most?”
“You and Eogan mac Durthecht!” she said.
“Then go live with Eogan for a year,” he said.
He gave her to Eogan, and the next day the three set out for the gathering at Macha. Derdriu was behind Eogan in the chariot. She looked down, so that she would not have to see the two men she hated most. She had sworn that neither of them would have her.
Conchobar had been watching her and Eogan, and when he saw her look down, he said, “Your glance is that of a ewe between two rams, Derdriu, sitting here between me and Eogan.”
Up ahead, there was a big boulder. When she heard him, she leapt up and struck her head upon it, smashing her skull to bits, and she was dead.
Even then, Conchobar was jealous that Noisiu and Derdriu dwellt in death together, and he ordered that their graves be far apart from one another. Yet every morning, the graves were found open, with the lovers inside one of them. To keep them apart, Conchobor had stakes of yew driven through their bodies, and the graves remained closed.
This was the story of Derdriu. Of beauty in death. Beauty brought Derdriu death: the death of the sons of Uisliu, the death of many in Ulster, and lastly her own death.
It was not death itself that was beautiful. The beauty was how Derdriu lived. Destined for a tragic fate even in the womb, was there ever any escape for her? And yet she chose, again and again, to turn away from the path laid out for her. Again and again, she chose the son of Uisliu.
Perhaps that had always been her fate. Or perhaps not. Prophecies are fickle things.
Years passed. Ulster and Connacht went to war. Cúchulainn stood alone against Medb’s invading army, and was later betrayed; death, winged raven, perched on his shoulder. Conchobar heard of the death of Christ and became so angry at the injustice that blood sprang from his head and he died. His eldest son Cormac was invited out of exile to be king of Ulster, and swearing friendship with Aillil and Medb, returned—only to meet death at the hands of men of Connacht. Fergus met death at the hands of Ailill, who met death through the plotting of Medb, who met death by the patient vengeance of one of Conchobar’s sons. Emain Macha was abandoned for Ard Macha close by, which became Armagh, where Saint Patrick built his church.
Two yew trees grew from the stakes in the graves. They grew and grew, until they became so tall that they could entwine with each other at last, centuries later, over the cathedral at Armagh.
Sources: “The Tragical Death of the Sons of Usnach,” The Cuchullin saga in Irish literature, Eleanor Hull (p. 22-53) and “Exile of the Sons of Uisliu,” The Táin, translated by Thomas Kinsella (p. 8-20).
Additional Notes: Because this was meant to make the medieval tales more approachable, in parts of my retelling there may be dialogue and such that read like simplified/altered versions of the original sources. I highly recommend reading the originals, linked below, for a fuller appreciation of the tale, especially Kinsella’s, as in my opinion his translations are the most readable and beautiful of any I’ve read. I’m happy to provide more detail about the adaptation process, the history behind the literature, and the wider context of the Ulster Cycle if anybody has questions. 
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isle-of-coastanoke · 1 year
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If I remember correctly, she loves romance, yes?
A doodle/gift for @ask-knowledgekeepers aka @ask-anxious-sylveon aka Fern! Celeste Nocturne is such a wonderful and caring character of theirs. One that knows all about love for a special day like this too. I may not be that good of a doodler but I really wanted to try a bit more here. Though, I can already spot a few mistakes and weird edges. 😅 Regardless, I hope this may brighten your day. 
Oh! And a very happy belated birthday to you as well! 🎉
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spaceshipkat · 11 days
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marymekpop · 2 years
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wait there. i will go to you soon.
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