morrigan-take-the-wheel - Tumblr blog

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hi i’m seeing no one talk about this cover??? this is HAUNTING, it’s dedicated it to everyone who’s died from the coronavirus so far especially healthcare staff i just,,,

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Morrigan

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cute date idea

decompose in a field together

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weather: rains once and remains 100 degrees 

me: ah, yes. the bitter rains of coming autumn. i must mend my heavy wool coat for the journeys across the moors of Ireland to bring a love letter to my bonny black-haired lass and stop by the peat-seller to arrange a wagon-load to keep the cabin warm and ensure the thatched roof is in good condition 

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Just Irish Things

When you’re playing cards with a lad down the pub and it all seems to be going grand, but then you notice he has hooves instead of feet and ur like ‘ah here, fuck this’

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not the first to do this at all, but

Rural Irish Gothic

• A sudden silence. You're being watched. It's not a negative feeling at all, not positive, it's just happening. Sound returns. You passed. You don't know what you passed. But you'd know it if you didn't.

• You hear a sudden rush of footsteps, close enough that you should be startled. You aren't. You look around. Nobody else reacts. Did they hear it? You say nothing.

• You become aware of your footsteps. The ground sounds hollow. You know it shouldn't be. You walk a little faster.

• You come across a fallen tree, an old one. You stop. You always do. Sometimes you tut sadly. Are you mourning its loss, or scolding it for daring to die? It's a shame, you say. It is.

• You hear a buzzing in the trees. Loud. A beehive, you're sure of it. The sound follows you. You aren't as certain, not now.

• A tourist asks you for directions. You tell them, politely. They walk away. You stifle a laugh. They don't know, do they? You can't say what it is they don't know. But they don't.

• Mostly, you don't believe the old stories. That's what you tell yourself. Part of you feels otherwise. Part of you is afraid.

• It's getting dark. The wind isn't strong, or cold, or fast. It's just loud. Louder than it should be. It wails, particularly high this time. You shiver. You bring your dogs inside. You lock the back door. You're not in danger, there are just some things you aren't supposed to know about. Nobody questions your actions.

• You see that some Hollywood horror movie is using Irish folklore. Usually the Banshee. Sometimes the Dullahan, though they don't use his name. Those Hollywood types never pay respect to the stories. They just don't get it. You feel a little sorry for them. You can't articulate why.

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Lugh: Grandpa what big eyes you have!

Lugh: What big ears you have!

Lugh: What big TEETH you have!!

Balor: You are my least favourite grandchild.

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Why is there always a law against everything I wanna do?

Balor, probably.

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Why do ppl make draw mermaids with seal’s tail and say it’s a selkie. Like no. Commit to the mystical ridiculousness that is the legend of the selkie. Beautiful ladies disguised as sentient sea sausages. Dead ass. You gotta commit. Bronagh comes out of the ocean and snakes out of a seal skin like a goddamn snake. Give me that Gaelic bodyhorror folklore or leave

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Awesome, but Outdated: Hozier is the reincarnation of Hades, the God of Death. 

Innovative: Hozier is the reincarnation of Lugh, a member of the Tuatha de Danann who is a youthful warrior, king, and saviour, associated with skills, crafts, and the arts alongside oaths, truth, and law. 

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Cú Chulainn (to anyone at all, ever): Keep it up, wise guy. I'm always going to be taller than you once you're lying unconscious on the ground.