#connachta | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thepastisalreadywritten · 7 months

Text

Story and photographs by Ronan O’Connell

September 26, 2023

In the middle of a field in a lesser known part of Ireland is a large mound where sheep wander and graze freely.

Had they been in that same location centuries ago, these animals might have been stiff with terror, held aloft by chanting, costumed celebrants while being sacrificed to demonic spirits that were said to inhabit nearby Oweynagat cave.

This monumental mound lay at the heart of Rathcroghan, the hub of the ancient Irish kingdom of Connaught.

The former Iron Age center is now largely buried beneath the farmland of County Roscommon.

In 2021, Ireland applied for UNESCO World Heritage status for Rathcroghan (Rath-craw-hin). It remains on the organization's tentative list.

Rooted in lore

Spread across more than two square miles of rich agricultural land, Rathcroghan encompasses 240 archaeological sites, dating back 5,500 years.

They include burial mounds, ring forts (settlement sites), standing stones, linear earthworks, an Iron Age ritual sanctuary — and Oweynagat, the so-called gate to hell.

In the 1800s, the Samhain tradition was brought by Irish immigrants to the United States, where it morphed into the sugar overload that is American Halloween.

Dorothy Ann Bray, a retired associate professor at McGill University and an expert in Irish folklore, explains that pre-Christian Irish divided each year into summer and winter.

Within that framework were four festivities.

Imbolc, on February 1, was a festival that coincided with lambing season.

Bealtaine, on May 1, marked the end of winter and involved customs like washing one’s face in dew, plucking the first blooming flowers, and dancing around a decorated tree.

August 1 heralded Lughnasadh, a harvest festival dedicated to the god Lugh and presided over by Irish kings.

Then on October 31 came Samhain, when one pastoral year ended and another began.

Rathcroghan was not a town, as Connaught had no proper urban centers and consisted of scattered rural properties.

Instead, it was a royal settlement and a key venue for these festivals.

During Samhain, in particular, Rathcroghan was a hive of activity focused on its elevated temple, which was surrounded by burial grounds for the Connachta elite.

Those same privileged people may have lived at Rathcroghan. The remaining lower-class Connachta communities resided in dispersed farms and descended on the site only for festivals.

At those lively events they traded, feasted, exchanged gifts, played games, arranged marriages, and announced declarations of war or peace.

Festivalgoers also may have made ritual offerings, possibly directed to the spirits of Ireland’s otherworld.

That murky, subterranean dimension, also known as Tír na nÓg (Teer-na-nohg), was inhabited by Ireland’s immortals, as well as a myriad of beasts, demons, and monsters.

During Samhain, some of these creatures escaped via Oweynagat cave (pronounced “Oen-na-gat” and meaning “cave of the cats”).

“A whole host of fearsome otherworldly beasts emerged to ravage the surrounding landscape and make it ready for winter.”

Thankful for the agricultural efforts of these spirits but wary of falling victim to their fury, the people protected themselves from physical harm by lighting ritual fires on hilltops and in fields.

They disguised themselves as fellow ghouls, McCarthy says, so as not to be dragged into the otherworld via the cave.

Despite these engaging legends — and the extensive archaeological site in which they dwell — one easily could drive past Rathcroghan and spot nothing but paddocks.

Inhabited for more than 10,000 years, Ireland is so dense with historical remains that many are either largely or entirely unnoticed.

Some are hidden beneath the ground, having been abandoned centuries ago and then slowly consumed by nature.

That includes Rathcroghan, which some experts say may be Europe’s largest unexcavated royal complex.

Not only has it never been dug up, but it also predates Ireland’s written history.

That means scientists must piece together its tale using non-invasive technology and artifacts found in its vicinity.

While Irish people for centuries knew this site was home to Rathcroghan, it wasn’t until the 1990s that a team of Irish researchers used remote sensing technology to reveal its archaeological secrets beneath the ground.

“The beauty of the approach to date at Rathcroghan is that so much has been uncovered without the destruction that comes with excavating upstanding earthwork monuments,” Curley says.

“[Now] targeted excavation can be engaged with, which will answer our research questions while limiting the damage inherent with excavation.”

Becoming a UNESCO site

This policy of preserving Rathcroghan’s integrity and authenticity extends to tourism.

Despite its significance, Rathcroghan is one of Ireland’s less frequented attractions, drawing some 22,000 visitors a year compared with more than a million at the Cliffs of Moher.

That may not be the case had it long ago been heavily marketed as the “Birthplace of Halloween,” Curley says.

But there is no Halloween signage at Rathcroghan or in Tulsk, the nearest town.

Rathcroghan’s renown should soar, however, if Ireland is successful in its push to make it a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The Irish Government has included Rathcroghan as part of the “Royal Sites of Ireland,” which is on its newest list of locations to be considered for prized World Heritage status.

The global exposure potentially offered by UNESCO branding would likely attract many more visitors to Rathcroghan.

But it seems unlikely this historic jewel will be re-packaged as a kitschy Halloween tourist attraction.

“If Rathcroghan got a UNESCO listing and that attracted more attention here that would be great, because it might result in more funding to look after the site,” Curley says.

“But we want sustainable tourism, not a rush of gimmicky Halloween tourism.”

Those travelers who do seek out Rathcroghan might have trouble finding Oweynagat cave.

Oweynagat is elusive — despite being the birthplace of Medb, perhaps the most famous queen in Irish history, 2,000 years ago.

Barely signposted, it’s hidden beneath trees in a paddock at the end of a one-way, dead-end farm track, about a thousand yards south of the much more accessible temple mound.

Visitors are free to hop a fence, walk through a field, and peer into the narrow passage of Oweynagat.

In Ireland’s Iron Age, such behavior would have been enormously risky during Samhain, when even wearing a ghastly disguise might not have spared the wrath of a malevolent creature.

Two millennia later, most costumed trick-or-treaters on Halloween won’t realize they’re mimicking a prehistoric tradition — one with much higher stakes than the pursuit of candy.

85 notes · View notes

trans-cuchulainn · 1 year

Text

#when will i stop making stupid polls. not yet

87 notes · View notes

caemthe · 3 months

Text

@corrchoigilt said.º

“Tell me how it tastes.” Cú urges as he offers a spoonful of chocolate to both Emer and Ferdiad as soon as he’s able to corral them both into the kitchen. His tone says ‘be honest’ but his expression makes it quite clear how proud he already is of his work. So much so, he apparently couldn’t wait much longer for them to try it. ‘I didn’t say who it was for,’ he might say but . . . it’s rather obvious isn’t it? And even if they didn’t quite like it . . . getting their opinions would just mean he could make it perfect for his wife and heart companion before giving it to them.

Valentine day's celebrations had Chaldea more lively than usual, a detail that Emer picked on since approximately a week before the fated day arrived. And plenty of the heroic spirits were determined to show their appreciation (and maybe even romantic interest?) to the Master on this particular day. Perhaps she would've been among the ones competing to make the most impressive chocolate just to show that she could but, the truth was, that she burned water in a good day. Emer picked her battles wisely, so she kept her distance from the kitchen as much as possible and took the opportunity to hear all the gossip and possible couples (and disasters) that would result from this day.

So it was quite surprising when her dearest one dragged her to the kitchen alongside his heart-companion. She shared a glance with Ferdiad, who clearly was just as confused as her, and wondered how dangerous it was for her beloved to have his two lovers in the same room. Or perhaps he didn't take such in consideration because of how excited he appeared to be? A question she didn't have to ponder about for long, as soon she was presented with a spoonful of chocolate.

Her smile widened as she stared at the expectant look from her husband, but she and Ferdiad didn't make themselves wait much and tried a bit of the chocolate. She wanted to take as long as humanly possible before giving her review just so she could continue looking at those expectant eyes. (How long would it take for Cú to realize that she's messing with him?) "It's rather difficult to give a proper rating when the sweetest of treats already stands before us," is what Emer ended up saying without thinking about it much. "My love, as delicious as your cooking is, one can't really take a moment to appreciate the finer aspects of the flavor when one's eyes already are being delighted."

Perhaps that wasn't what Cú wanted to hear... or expected... at all.

But that was exactly what Ferdiad thought as well. How was he supposed to tear his gaze away and focus on anything else when his heart companion was being so cute? "I think it's part of the experience. The taste buds are delighted at the same time the eyes' are." A reply Emer liked and immediately agreed to. One would think that the Saber and Assassin had known each other for a long time, knew each other well enough to read the other's mind or guess what the other thought with just one glance, but that wasn't the case at all. It's just that, when it came to a certain Caster, they always thought the same.

"It might taste even sweeter if it's on you," the Connachta joked as he smeared a bit of the chocolate on his heart companion's cheek. But, swift as always, Emer leaned in to lick it off her husband's cheek before he could clean it off. It wasn't intentional, but Emer and Ferdiad knew how to work together. So before she could hear any whining from Cú, he placed a bit of chocolate on the Caster's lips. Needless to say, Ferdiad didn't waste a second to tilt his heart companion's face up and kiss them breathless. "Indeed, it's much sweeter like this."

Ferdiad's deep blue eyes met the honey-like eyes of Emer and, again, without saying anything to each other, the two reached the same conclusion, they had the same idea. Their eyes acquired a dangerous glint to them, and before they could be questioned, Ferdiad swept Cú off their feet and carried them out of the kitchen while Emer placed a few spoonfuls of the chocolate in a bowl and tagged along. It might be quite the tiring day for a certain Ulsterman.

#corrchoigilt #ask. ° ( delivered. )#emer. ° ( assassin. )#ferdia. ° ( saber. )#/ he's so cute skelly wth aaaaaa #/ but also kjhjkjhghj he keeps setting himself up for 'failure' ywy

2 notes · View notes

fragmentedink-archived · 11 months

Text

Iron Wrought Courts:

Connachta

Annwyfn

Khentii

Itzamnás

Anzan

Mokoš

Nyambe

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #iron wrought

3 notes · View notes

sorrelchestnut · 2 years

Text

Tagged by @bemusedlybespectacled, I have a lot of reports to procrastinate and no meetings to waste time on, so hit me up!

Rules: “Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DND campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!”

I recycle my active WIP folder pretty aggressively or I'd just get overwhelmed, but this is everything I've worked on in the last year or so:

Cry Havoc [Fallout 4]

Sharp Edges [OFMD]

HOLD FAST [OFMD]

Thimblerig [OFMD]

Polaris [OFMD]

Music from a Farther Room [CP2077]

Time in a Bottle [Deathloop]

On the Rocks [Deathloop]

God's Own Country [RDR2]

Call of the Wild [RDR2]

a parliament, a conspiracy, a murder [Dishonored]

The Rat Queen [Dishonored]

every key and kite [Dishonored]

Tagging @merulanoir, @magifrog, @natilieal, @connachta, @akilah12902, @fieldbears, @takiki16, and anyone else who wants to do it!

#askmeme

14 notes · View notes

swiftstigmata · 2 years

Text

been tagged by @bourgeoix to show the top five songs in my on repeat playlist! absolutely exposed by the fact that miley is in there but also no further comment xxx

tagging @connachta @getmean @brownbicon @beholdingslut and @percybysshes mwah!!

#.txt #the chain is the next one down and i also didn’t include my boyfriend’s single that we stream overnight for takeaway money xo

11 notes · View notes

yeats-infection · 2 years

Text

hi team, here are some very nice recent things that i wanted to share with you:

pinkelderberry translated my story theme from an imaginary western into ukrainian: Мотив із уявного вестерна. if you would like to support pink and other ukrainian women and people who can get pregnant who have been displaced to countries where abortion is illegal or otherwise difficult to access, they recommended checking out abortion without borders.

also, i wrote two stories for a little OFMD exchange run by the discord crew: amaranthine for @connachta and haunt you down for @et-in-arkadia. and @anaisaarts made this amazing fanart for amaranthine. thank you so so so much!

#my fic #our flag means death

10 notes · View notes

xtruss · 7 months

Text

The unassuming entrance to Oweynagat cave, in Rathcroghan, Ireland, belies its central role in ancient Irish history. It‘s known as a gateway to the demon-filled underworld and the birthplace of the Samhain festival, the traditional roots of Halloween. In 2021, Ireland applied for UNESCO World Heritage status for the archaeological site. Photograph By Ronan O'Connell

Inside The Irish ‘Hell Caves’ Where Halloween Was Born

Go in search of the ancient royal capital that spawned our favorite night of the dead.

— Story and Photographs By Ronan O'Connell | September 26, 2023

In the middle of a field in a lesser known part of Ireland is a large mound where sheep wander and graze freely. Had they been in that same location centuries ago, these animals might have been stiff with terror, held aloft by chanting, costumed celebrants while being sacrificed to demonic spirits that were said to inhabit nearby Oweynagat cave.

This monumental mound lay at the heart of Rathcroghan, the hub of the ancient Irish kingdom of Connaught. The former Iron Age center is now largely buried beneath the farmland of County Roscommon. In 2021, Ireland applied for UNESCO World Heritage status for Rathcroghan (Rath-craw-hin). It remains on the organization's tentative list.

The current archaeological site of Rathcroghan displays an artist’s impression of the temple that once stood there. It was the main meeting place of the Connaught kingdom 2,000 years ago. Photograph By Ronan O'Connell

Rooted in Lore

Spread across more than two square miles of rich agricultural land, Rathcroghan encompasses 240 archaeological sites, dating back 5,500 years. They include burial mounds, ring forts (settlement sites), standing stones, linear earthworks, an Iron Age ritual sanctuary—and Oweynagat, the so-called gate to hell.

More than 2,000 years ago, when Ireland’s communities seem to have worshipped nature and the land itself, it was here at Rathcroghan that the Irish New Year festival of Samhain (SOW-in) was born, says archaeologist and Rathcroghan expert Daniel Curley. In the 1800s, the Samhain tradition was brought by Irish immigrants to the United States, where it morphed into the sugar overload that is American Halloween.

Dorothy Ann Bray, a retired associate professor at McGill University and an expert in Irish folklore, explains that pre-Christian Irish divided each year into summer and winter. Within that framework were four festivities. Imbolc, on February 1, was a festival that coincided with lambing season. Bealtaine, on May 1, marked the end of winter and involved customs like washing one’s face in dew, plucking the first blooming flowers, and dancing around a decorated tree. August 1 heralded Lughnasadh, a harvest festival dedicated to the god Lugh and presided over by Irish kings. Then on October 31 came Samhain, when one pastoral year ended and another began.

Rathcroghan was not a town, as Connaught had no proper urban centers and consisted of scattered rural properties. Instead, it was a royal settlement and a key venue for these festivals. During Samhain, in particular, Rathcroghan was a hive of activity focused on its elevated temple, which was surrounded by burial grounds for the Connachta elite.

Those same privileged people may have lived at Rathcroghan. The remaining, lower-class Connachta communities resided in dispersed farms and descended on the site only for festivals. At those lively events they traded, feasted, exchanged gifts, played games, arranged marriages, and announced declarations of war or peace.

Festivalgoers also may have made ritual offerings, possibly directed to the spirits of Ireland’s otherworld. That murky, subterranean dimension, also known as Tír na nÓg (Teer-na-nohg), was inhabited by Ireland’s immortals, as well as a myriad of beasts, demons, and monsters. During Samhain, some of these creatures escaped via Oweynagat cave (pronounced “Oen-na-gat” and meaning “cave of the cats”).

“Samhain was when the invisible wall between the living world and the otherworld disappeared,” says Mike McCarthy, a Rathcroghan tour guide and researcher who has co-authored several publications on the site. “A whole host of fearsome otherworldly beasts emerged to ravage the surrounding landscape and make it ready for winter.”

Thankful for the agricultural efforts of these spirits but wary of falling victim to their fury, the people protected themselves from physical harm by lighting ritual fires on hilltops and in fields. They disguised themselves as fellow ghouls, McCarthy says, so as not to be dragged into the otherworld via the cave.

Despite these engaging legends—and the extensive archaeological site in which they dwell—one easily could drive past Rathcroghan and spot nothing but paddocks. Inhabited for more than 10,000 years, Ireland is so dense with historical remains that many are either largely or entirely unnoticed. Some are hidden beneath the ground, having been abandoned centuries ago and then slowly consumed by nature.

That includes Rathcroghan, which some experts say may be Europe’s largest unexcavated royal complex. Not only has it never been dug up, but it also predates Ireland’s written history. That means scientists must piece together its tale using non-invasive technology and artifacts found in its vicinity.

A hillside path leads to Keshcorran Caves in County Sligo, which, according to Irish legend, were gates to hell and connected to Oweynagat. Photograph By Ronan O'Connell

“The beauty of the approach to date at Rathcroghan is that so much has been uncovered without the destruction that comes with excavating upstanding earthwork monuments,” Curley says. “[Now] targeted excavation can be engaged with, which will answer our research questions while limiting the damage inherent with excavation.”

Becoming a UNESCO Site

This policy of preserving Rathcroghan’s integrity and authenticity extends to tourism. Despite its significance, Rathcroghan is one of Ireland’s less frequented attractions, drawing some 22,000 visitors a year compared with more than a million at the Cliffs of Moher. That may not be the case had it long ago been heavily marketed as the “Birthplace of Halloween,” Curley says. But there is no Halloween signage at Rathcroghan or in Tulsk, the nearest town.

Rathcroghan’s renown should soar, however, if Ireland is successful in its push to make it a UNESCO World Heritage site. The Irish Government has included Rathcroghan as part of the “Royal Sites of Ireland,” which is on its newest list of locations to be considered for prized World Heritage status. The global exposure potentially offered by UNESCO branding would likely attract many more visitors to Rathcroghan.

But it seems unlikely this historic jewel will be re-packaged as a kitschy Halloween tourist attraction. “If Rathcroghan got a UNESCO listing and that attracted more attention here that would be great, because it might result in more funding to look after the site,” Curley says. “But we want sustainable tourism, not a rush of gimmicky Halloween tourism.”

Those travelers who do seek out Rathcroghan might have trouble finding Oweynagat cave. Oweynagat is elusive—despite being the birthplace of Medb, perhaps the most famous queen in Irish history, 2,000 years ago. Barely signposted, it’s hidden beneath trees in a paddock at the end of a one-way, dead-end farm track, about a thousand yards south of the much more accessible temple mound.

Visitors are free to hop a fence, walk through a field, and peer into the narrow passage of Oweynagat. In Ireland’s Iron Age, such behavior would have been enormously risky during Samhain, when even wearing a ghastly disguise might not have spared the wrath of a malevolent creature.

Two millennia later, most costumed trick-or-treaters on Halloween won’t realize they’re mimicking a prehistoric tradition—one with much higher stakes than the pursuit of candy.

#World Heritage #History | Culture #Ronan O'Connell #Ireland 🇮🇪#UNESCO #Oweynagat Cave #County Roscommon #UNESCO | World Heritage Status | Rathcroghan (Rath-Craw-Hin)

0 notes

toinghaeilge · 6 years

Text

What the Hell, Galway

When I wrote Notable Irish Toponymy, I had not realised that Muckanaghederdauhaulia had been dethroned as the longest single-word place name in Ireland. If you remember the post or know this place, you’ll know it’s in Galway.

In fact, five of the top five longest Irish place names are in Galway. They are now:

Bullaunancheathrairaluinn: Ballán an Cheathrair Álainn Inishmore, Galway

Sruffaunoughterluggatoora: Sruthán Uachtar Log an tSamhraidh Ballynahinch, Galway

Loughaunbarnaheskabaunia: Lochán Bairr na h-Eascaide Báine Ballynahinch, Galway

Sruffaungolinluggatavhin: Sruthán Góilín Log an Tafainn Ballynahinch, Galway

Templeancheathrairaluinn: Teampall an Cheathrair Álainn Inishmore: Galway

The first one, Ballán an Cheatrair Álainn means “bullaun of the Four Comely Saints”. The Four Comely Saints, or an Ceathrar Álainn, was a collective name for Fursey, Brendan of Birr, Conall, and Berchán, four saints in the early Irish Christian church reported to have been buried on Inishmore.

The same goes for number five on the list—Teampall an Cheathrair Álainn, the temple of the Four Comely Saints.

As for the rest, there is only one that’s definitively translated:

Lochán Bairr na h-Eascaide Báine Pool at the top of the white quagmire

Plughoge and Leabrannagh Mountain North, a townland in Barony, Co. Donegal tops the list for the longest multi-word place name in Ireland. Its Irish name is given as Sliabh Phlochóige agus Leadhb Reannach Thuaidh: which roughly gives 'Hollow Mountain and Starry Strip North' or, following its English name, 'Hollow and Starry Strip Mountain North'.

#gaillimh #connachta #áit go léir #suimiúil #dún na ngall #ulaid #naomh #reiligiún #sanasaíocht #tírdhreach #imeachtaí staire #imeachtaí-staire

0 notes

conchobarmacnessa · 6 years

Text

keeping up with connachta? dead it’s keeping up with ulaid now.

#ooc.#connachta? we dont know them

3 notes · View notes

leupagus · 2 years

Text

I got tagged! For a writing meme!

I never get tagged, this is so exciting! The excellent @connachta, whose fic you should go read right now, tagged me for Out Of Touch Thursday, and in keeping with the apparent theme I’m so out of touch that I don’t actually know what Out Of Touch means in this context. But the general idea seems to be to post something in the fic you’re working on, or one of the fics you’re working on. So here you go:

"Whatever, we do this and we stay alive, all right? Both of us."

"And then what?" Frenchie demands, keeping his voice as low as he can. "We escape? You think we can just steal a dinghy and row ourselves to freedom, is that it?"

"I don't know, maybe," snaps Jim. "It's not impossible."

"It's… fairly impossible, mate," Frenchie says, as gentle as he can. He forgets that Jim's not a sailor, and probably thinks the whole Caribbean's the size of a small lake.

"Okay, then we wait for a rescue," Jim says, stowing the knives in various pockets and sheaths.

"A rescue from who? There's nobody—" Frenchie stops, trying to comprehend the depth of Jim's idiocy. "You can't possibly think think that Stede Fucking Bonnet is going to sail back into our lives and, what, suck Blackbeard's cock good enough that he gives up his life of crime," he says, disbelieving. "Can you?"

Jim shrugs. "Never underestimate the power of a good cocksucking, I always say."

Frenchie wants to tear his own head off. "Okay, granted, but we don't even know if he's still alive! Or where he is! He could still be at that fucking privateer camp, for all we know!"

"So we find out for sure!" Jim hisses, getting as far up in his face as they're capable. It's hard to remember how short Jim really is; they take up more space than most. Maybe it's the hat. "And who knows, Oluwande might find us instead — the rest of the crew, they were marooned, not murdered, remember?"

"Marooning is just like, lazy murder," Frenchie says, because if he had tuppence for every deserted island in the Caribbean that was riddled with skeletons from some poor marooned bastards, he'd have three shillings sixpence.

"Sure," Jim says, waving a hand, "But it's not like Blackbeard killed anybody. So—"

"He killed Lucius," Frenchie snaps. Some part of him enjoys how Jim startles at that. "I suppose that don't count, since Lucius wouldn't exactly be captaining a ship. But yeah, he killed somebody."

"He killed Lucius?" Jim asks. It's the first time Frenchie's ever heard them sound… small.

"Pushed him overboard, the night before he went insane. Maybe that's what did it, I dunno." Frenchie didn't even find out for a few days after the rest of the crew was forced off; it was Fang who told him, sniffling and asking if the boy's lovely drawings had been thrown overboard, too. "Point is, you made this deal with someone who's not got a great track record as it concerns our former co-workers."

"Maybe," says Jim, and swallows. "But Oluwande's gotten out of bigger messes than a little involuntary island vacation. He'll figure something out. And we've got to be ready for when that happens, okay Francés? You with me on this?" They make to spit on their palm.

It's common enough, even if he's never been a particular fan: a spit and a handshake, a deal between pirates, mutually beneficial and hard to break. "Is that what you did with Blackbeard, then?" he asks.

Hard to break, but not impossible.

Jim looks back at him for a long moment, then pulls out one of their knives. "Fine," they mutter — and make a small cut on their thumb, pressing the blood into their palm. "We both stay alive, whatever it takes," they say, holding the knife out to Frenchie, handle-first.

He takes the knife and does the same to his thumb, flinching only a bit. "Whatever it takes," he says, ignoring the bile rising in his throat as he takes their hand, "We both stay alive."

Tagging @angryonabus, @whetherwoman, @kiraziwrites, @praycambrian, and @auntieclimactic!

#FRENCHIE+JIM=BEST FRIENDS FOREVER #honestly writing them together is so fun they're both such hissing cats #ficcage of interest #boys in the band ordered boat drinks #our flag means death motherfuckers #ofmd fic

55 notes · View notes

trans-cuchulainn · 1 year

Text

The trouble is, he's from Connacht.

The trouble is, the rest of them have been pretending, since day one, that it doesn't matter. Leave provinces behind, they say, we're in Alba, we're on Scáthach's island, it doesn't matter who your father is or who your people are or where you'll be going back to at the end of this, for we're all brothers under Scáthach and that's what matters.

But they're wrong.

Láeg knows that it matters, has felt that itching certainty since the day he met Cú Chulainn and knew that glory was worthless compared to spending the rest of his life fighting at this boy's side. He kept that quiet, of course; he's not fool enough to wave his feelings like standards on the battlefield until he knows victory is assured. But it gnaws at him, endlessly, this knowledge:

I want him, and he is Ulaid.

Cú Chulainn, for his part, seems to care little about this. He has his friends: Lugaid, from Munster, and Fer Baeth, from Connacht, and Fer Diad—

Well. Fer Diad is Connachta and Fer Diad is trouble and Láeg knows this, innately, deep in his stomach. He's not gifted with foresight but sometimes, when the wind is right and the gods of his people feel closer than usual, his instincts whisper to him of danger and betrayal and grief, a bitter taste in his mouth. And Fer Diad tastes of grief, right enough, endless as the ocean they crossed to be here.

oh no it's Writing Fic On My Phone At 2am time again

#this fic is. okay it's a mess #it's connacht láeg but it's NOT d.iv.2 láeg #it's an au where láeg didn't grow up with cú chulainn #and was gonna be a champion but then got... derailed #it has to be uhhhh earliest version of tochmarc emire to work #because láeg is in the later versions #but the first one he's not in so it's canon compliant to that? i guess #nobody cares néide just call it an AU and be done with it #my writing

11 notes · View notes

caemthe · 1 year

Text

Post Nimhe Eire | Berserker of Victory

During the Nimhe Eire Lostbelt, the spirit core of Conall Cernach from Proper Human History was shattered, erasing his existence from the Throne of Heroes. Therefore, there was a general shock among the people when Chaldea’s summoning system picked on a familiar yet distinct readings. And so once again the wolf rose.

Height: 1.79m / 5′11ft Source: Celtic Mythology, Ulster Cycle Region: Midluachair Alignment: Chaotic Evil Gender: Female

‘She who is as strong as a wolf’ No one was a brave as Conall Cernach, who never went a day without beheading a Connacht warrior in battle. So terrible was her rage that each night she slept with a severed head under her knee. No land had not felt the fury of her slaughter. There was not a man of Connacht, whose son, brother or father she had not slain.

While her deeds, looks and personality are essentially the same as the Berserker that was previously summoned, the life and experiences led were heavily influenced by the fact that she was a woman in the Iron Age. She had the same ‘miraculous’ birth and prophecy of slaughter as her Proper Human History counterpart but, instead of almost being assassinated upon birth, her uncle Cet requested King Conchobar to marry her to a faraway land so she wouldn’t be able to fulfill the prophecy. King Conchobar agreed to keep the ‘peace’ between Connacht and Ulster and arranged a marriage between the Ulster princess and a Pictish king.

The marriage didn’t last long as, years later, Conall would return with the severed head of her husband tied to her belt and her four infant sons. While usually that would mean that she would go back to being the property of a male family member, she insisted that she still followed her husband’s commands and answered only to him. If one wished to defy the word of the severed head man. they would’ve to talk on equal terms, which meant become a severed head themself or suffer the consequences of defying his authority.

While a mercenary leader rather than an Ulster warrior, Conall often aided Ulster in war and, true to the prophecy, killed more than half of Connachta during her lifetime. And just like her Proper Human History counterpart, she had 6 wives (technically, they were married to the severed head tied to her belt) and her four sons became kings, earning her the title of Mother of Kings.

Once in Chaldea, she was quickly asked to not walk around with the severed head of her husband tied to her belt as it was a grotesque sight.

tag:: au. º ( máthir. )

- - visual reference under the read more - -

#conall. º ( berserker. )#au. º ( máthir. )#oc art.º #/ i am weak and biased but tbh fate should've added a feral female warrior that actually looks like a feral warrior long ago #/ anyway the main differences in design between male/female conall is that her war paint is more feminine and she doesn't hide her-#/ heterochromia. but yeah still 100% enemy of shirts and annoyingly loud. sorry not sorry

7 notes · View notes

chocolatesawfish · 2 years

Text

Hetalia World Stars The Ulster Cycle

(Cw: death and historical inaccuracy, ho!)

Once upon a time (the late Iron Age, specifically) there lived two sisters on two islands. The elder was named Britannia, and the younger, Hibernia.

Each sister bore five children. The sons of Britannia were Cambria, Caledonia, Loegria, Monapia and Dumnonia. Later, they were called Wales, Scotland, England, Mann and Cornwall. The children of Hibernia were Ulaid, Laigin, Connachta, Mumu and Mide. They were later to become Ulster, Leinster, Connacht, Munster and Meath.

After the passing of their mothers, the usual inheritance struggles broke out. Of the ten contenders, some were more favoured by geography and demographics than others. England and Scotland surpassed their kin in the east, while Ulster, Connacht and Munster rose to prominence in the west. The arrival of the Norsemen upset this whole, delicate balance of power.

When the Viking raids began to strike the coasts of Britain and Ireland, the response of Hibernia's children was to put aside their differences and consolidate a common front. An entirely unintended effect of this cooperation was the birth of a nation.

Emerging from the unity of the five provinces, Árdríocht na hÉireann, the High Kingdom of Ireland, stepped onto the scene. Though not directly of Hibernia's blood, he was still a sibling to them, and symbol of their resistance to foreign rule. And this talismanic determination would soon be put to the test.

Young Ireland reached the peak of his potential under that most famous high king, Brian Boru. With the battle of Clontarf, the Northmen ceased to be an issue, the ever more ambitious Leinster suffered a setback, and Munster seemed set to rule as most powerful of the five provinces. In a sad twist of fate, Brian Boru's death & the resulting fragmentation of his achievements led to the dwindling of Munster's power, leaving Connacht and Ulster as the major players on the island. Ireland attempted to keep them in line, but going behind the others’ backs, Leinster invited a foreign force to their island, ultimately sealing all of their fates.

Almost from the moment Wales set foot on the Emerald Isle, things spiralled out of control. Young, impressionable and filled with religious fervour from his time with Norman France, he reinstated Leinster in the position of power she craved, and proceeded to go much further. The campaigns of this invader drew Munster and Meath’s ire, and they attempted to force him into retreat, but with continental tactics and technology, Wales was a foe like none they’d fought before. Soon, an all-island battle royale was raging, with even Leinster burned by the dragon she had unleashed. Things were only resolved when England stepped in, using his princely authority to recall Wales, but the damage was done. In England’s view, the only way to stabilise the situation was to take charge himself. And so began the eight hundred years of colonisation.

The retreat of the Normans bought the five provinces, and Ireland as a whole, some breathing space, but it wasn’t to last. With the ascendancy of the House of Tudor, England exerted his control ever more fiercely, and the provinces, one by one, were either killed outright or had their power broken, and gradually dwindled away. All except Ulster.

All the provinces had their reasons for resisting, and resist they did. Whether they met their end at the tip of Anglo-Norman lances, or were felled by starvation, disease and internal strife, Leinster, Munster, Connacht and Meath fought till their last breath. Ulster prided himself as the finest warrior of all the island, but this wasn’t the sole reason he had held dominion for so long. He was pragmatic and shrewd, and saw no purpose in discarding his life for a lost cause. When he was defeated despite doing all he could, he reasoned that there was no disgrace in an honourable surrender, and submitted to his new lords.

With the Flight of the Earls and the winnowing of the last vestiges of his Gaelic culture, Ulster entered a period of profound mourning. The loss of his language, his traditions, the very soul of the nation, was enough to break his heart. He had acquiesced willingly, but on many occasions he regretted it, berated himself, questioned whether things could have gone differently. He was too subdued to make a fuss as England began moving settlers in, new customs and ways of life supplanting the old. It would take the arrival of one more nation on the island to break Ulster out of his downward spiral.

Scotland stood out from his brothers, yet there was something so familiar about him. He had none of Wales’ fervour, none of England’s offhand brutality, but was quiet, dignified and resolute. He was the single most impressive man Ulster had ever met. He could never put his finger on quite why his cousin’s arrival touched a chord with him, but deep down, it was because Scotland was everything he wished he could be. Here was a man who had stood up to England, Norway, had even, fighting at the side of his mother, held back the Roman Empire himself.

Ulster recalled Scotty’s face vaguely and fondly. Back in their youth, in untroubled days, they had crossed the North Channel to visit each other’s houses, romping through the Scottish Highlands and the Glens of Antrim. Although they had drifted apart as times changed and new challenges arose, they had tried to keep in contact. Scotland’s gallowglass warriors had been instrumental in countless Irish conflicts, and his campaigns under the Bruce family had provided an invaluable counterweight that kept Norman England in check.

Scotland was someone Ulster could actually talk to. Proud of his Gaelic roots and equally as nostalgic for their childhood, they had much to bond over. Ulster grew in confidence. The hollow absence of his old way of life still hurt, but with Scotland, he began to learn about the experiences of others, try new things and broaden his worldview. Eager to impress, he almost unwittingly began to adopt Scotland’s mannerisms, from his dress sense to his speech patterns. With trepidation and excitement, he even made the monumental leap of conversion, taking up his cousin’s Presbyterian faith.

For a time, life was good. Ulster and Scotland settled into their new life together, their cultures syncretizing and their love for each other deepening. Gradually, they ceased to see each other as cousins, and Ulster became the fourth brother of the British Family. But what of good old Éire?

While Ulster prospered, his little brother suffered. Too weak to be seen as a serious threat, he escaped the fate of the provinces, though he fought just as valiantly. After the conquest, England set up a colonial administration in Dublin, made some perfunctory attempts to “civilise” the country and promptly forgot about him. Left to his own devices in a devastated landscape, Ireland experienced a tempestuous adolescence. Retreating west and living off the land, he came to resent all things British, but most of all his misguided sellout of a big brother.

Every so often, this discontent flared into violence. In the Irish Rebellions of 1641, 1798 and of course 1916, Ireland lashed out against the establishment, with predictably tragic results every time. What’s more, his land became a battlefield of larger powers, with the Williamite-Jacobite War seeing the Netherlands and France arrive to bolster their respective Protestant and Catholic allies.

With clockwork consistency, Ulster was caught in the middle. With how often he was at the centre of the conflict, he began to internalise that it was really all his fault, even when the wars were only a symptom of larger, Europe-wide machinations. Now, at least, he didn’t have to rely solely on himself. Whenever danger loomed, his brother was there, a staunch defender against all comers. In 1641, when Ireland laid waste to the province, Scotland sheltered Ulster behind the barricades of County Down and fought Ireland to a standstill outside them. Bizarrely, Ireland found himself allied to England when Arthur’s doppelgänger, Oliver, appeared on the scene, joining forces with Scotland and Ulster in his quest to depose the monarchy.

After the Williamite War, things returned to some semblance of normality, but discontent still brewed beneath the surface. The social structures of the Protestant Ascendancy excluded both Catholics and Presbyterians from government in favour of Anglicans, so while England extended his rule around the globe, Ireland, Scotland and Ulster languished in relative obscurity. For Ireland, this was a chance to recuperate and plan for his next uprising, while for the other two, free from the duties of politics, it was an opportunity to rebuild their lives together and continue to develop the Ulster-Scots identity of their community.

Yet another disaster was the Potato Famine. Scotland returned to his ancestral highlands to try and alleviate the suffering there, and Ulster stood on his own for the first time in hundreds of years, struggling to care for a devastated population. Worst-hit of all was Ireland. The starvation, the disease and the inaction of the British government was more than he could bear. He departed on a coffin ship for America.

In his absence, Ulster integrated himself further into the Anglo-Celtic family. But Ireland didn’t plan on staying away for ever. Returning across the Atlantic, having met diverse groups of peoples and been imbued with new ideas of nationalism and self-determination, he made one final push for freedom.

In keeping with this new spirit, he took a step unusual for him and dealt with the British government on their own terms. They were happy to receive him, as they much preferred a feisty but ineffectual political partner to a hostile and volatile colony. Ulster, though, was much aggrieved, not comprehending how they could show such favour to one who had been such a constant thorn in their side. With jealousy and unsettlement eating away at him, Ulster dug his heels in. Every push for greater autonomy that Ireland made, every concession granted to him, resulted in Ulster proclaiming in ever-stronger terms that he would never abandon his family.

And then, some damned foolish thing in the Balkans, that which the Great Powers dreaded, came to pass. It was 1914, and Europe was in flames.

England, Scotland and Wales threw all their might into supporting their continental allies, with the Irish right beside them. Ulster was attempting to prove his steadfast loyalty, while Éire was hoping that by being there in their hour of need, the British would reward him with independence. The war, however, only forestalled a proposed autonomy bill from being implemented, and Ireland’s frustrations grew. They spilled over in the Easter Rising, crushed like all before it, but sticking in the public imagination due to the cruelty with which the British suppressed it.

Once the war was over, Ireland saw his chance, and now, at last, he was successful. He automatically assumed that his brother Ulster would be coming with him, and was aghast to discover that he had no intention of doing so, a plain truth that Ireland had willfully blinded himself to. Their division, evident for so long, was now official, and Ulster took a new name for himself.

Northern Ireland.

17 notes · View notes

luciusspriggss-prev · 2 years

Text

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

Fanfiction Recommendations: Part 1/? (a small collection of fics, there are more but I didn't want to post too much at once)

General Themes:

Post S1

Fix it

Edward x Stede

Happy/Hopeful Ending

General Audience(1) - Mature(2) - Explicit(4)

**My personal favorite thus far** HALF AGONY, HALF HOPE - lyricl Chapter 7/7 Tumblr account: @connachta Tags - explicit, finished, slow burn, angst, introduced OC's, ed's pov, romantic letters, happy ending

The first letter appeared only a few weeks after Stede left him alone on that beach. Ed burnt the first, and the second, and the third. But they kept coming. Or: how Edward Teach got a pen pal, reunited with an old friend, lost a first mate, gained a new one, learned something about seagulls, asked for some fashion advice, found Stede Bonnet, found himself.

--------------------------------------

**a close second for favorite fic** TO ASK A SEA STORM'S ADVICE - Caseys_Crying Chapter 1/1 Tumblr account: @latest-obsession Tags - general audience, finished, angst, Ed's pov, hopeful ending

Though Ed might act as the Kraken now that Stede's left him, when he is alone at night he is always Edward Teach. Open, vulnerable, and bare, just a boy in his heart, broken and scared. Most nights consist of quiet cries to love and loss, but on the stormy ones, Ed finds himself calling to the lightning and thunder to answer the question he can't let go of. "He loves me? He loves me not?"

--------------------------------------

I WILL INDULGE THE OTHER - GriffinGreen Chapter 1/1 Tumblr account: ? (if you know please let me know so I can properly tag) Tags - mature, finished, angst, suicide attempt, fantastical, happy ending

He thought he had lost everything he could when Stede abandoned him on that beach. He was wrong. When news reaches the Revenge of Stede Bonnet's untimely demise, Edward Teach dies. The kraken is born. A story of monsters, and love, and grace.

--------------------------------------

TO THE END OF THE OCEAN - AFrenchFanWriter Chapter 7/16 Tumblr account: @afrenchwriter Tags - mature, not finished, slow burn, angst, realistic

1718. Still the Golden Age of Piracy. Now free from his old life, Stede Bonnet, aka the Gentleman Pirate, set course for his ship, his crew, and a life full of adventure alongside his newfound love, Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard. Things did not go as planned...

--------------------------------------

THIS OCEAN BETWEEN US - Sarah_hadeschild Chapter 7/9 Tumblr account: @sarah-hadeschild Tags - explicit, not finished, angst, Stede takes care of Ed

Three months after Stede Bonnet abandoned Edward Teach at the dock, he manages to track down the Revenge once more. His plans to make amends fall away, however, when he discovers that Edward has taken ill in his absence. Care and pining ensue.

--------------------------------------

THE STREAM IS LONG - way_visceral Chapter 9/9 Tumblr account: ? (if you know please let me know so I can properly tag) Tags - explicit, finished, angst, suicidal thoughts, both during season 1 and post s1, happy ending

A retelling of most of season one through Ed's point of view. Shit gets sad, and horny, then sad, then horny again. There's some happiness sprinkled in there too. As well as a reunion.

--------------------------------------

LOST ON YOU - Crowley_KingOfHell Chapter 19/19 Tumblr account: @crowleykoh Tags - explicit, finished, angst, introduced OC, Ed's jealous, happy ending

Stede Bonnet may have found (most of) his crew, but they're a long way from civilization, and the Gentleman Pirate has no idea what has become of his beloved. Edward Teach has been buried at sea, a sacrifice to wake the Kraken in Blackbeard. He will be taking out his pain on everyone that makes the mistake of crossing his path. Izzy Hands finds out quickly that the monster he's awoken is well beyond his means to control, nor can he protect himself from it.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #edward x stede #fanfiction #fanfiction rec list

18 notes · View notes