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godzilla-reads · 1 year

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🐸 Maddy Kettle: The Adventure of the Thimblewitch by Eric Orchard

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

Eleven year old Maddy Kettle loves working in her parents’ bookshop with her floating toad. But when the Thimblewitch turns her parents into kangaroo mice, her whole life changes. Maddy is about to embark on an adventure to save her parents.

I loved the art and the concept of this story, but the plot was very loose and the writing was just ok. It left off open ended and I wish it had been longer to go more in depth to the story. This would be a good book for kids learning to read or first diving into graphic novels.

#godzilla reads #Maddy kettle #the adventure of the Thimblewitch #eric orchard #book review #graphic novels #reading #reads #booklr #bookworm #book blog #young readers #bibliophile

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alwayschasingrainbows · 5 months

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KILMENY OF THE OLD ORCHARD READALONG.

Ladies, Gentleman and Everyone in Between & Beyond, may I kindly introduce a honourable member of an elite Club of LMM CATS™, our new Royalty:

Sir Timothy the Cat:

Sir Timothy The Cat (Timothy to the few chosen ones Sir Timothy views as worthy of his friendship) Williamson, resides in Lindsay (Prince Edward Island) alongside his adoring parents: Mrs. and Mr. Williamsons. He enjoys being petted and praised, as well as eating first-class bacon from Mr. Robert's (his father's) plate.

Sir Timothy's favourite treat is a bowlful of fresh cream.

Sir Timothy never forgets his manners, eats in a dainty way, and purrs in a resonant gratitude.

Sir Timothy has his own special place on the kitchen bench (warning: the place is NOT to be sat on by anyone else but Sir Timothy).

The other place Sir Timothy finds agreeable is the top of the dresser, where he is able to gravely address himself to the disposal of various tid-bits.

Here are some heart-warming photos of Sir Timothy's kittenhood:

Sir Timothy showing a grand dignity from the first moments of his life! (He shall not be teased.)

Sir Timothy accepting tribute and graciously bestowing a meow.

Sir Timothy living by the rule of Confucius "Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail."

Wasn't he a handsome little lad?

But please, do not disrespect Sir Timothy, for he is a brave and courageous cat-being:

Let us hear the the cautious warning by a young gentelman, Mr. Larry West, a former school teacher of Lindsay (Prince Edward Island):

“The name of this animal is Timothy and as such he must always be called and referred to. Never, [...], let him hear you speaking of [him] as ‘the cat,’ or even as ‘Tim.’ You will never be forgiven and he will not consider you a fit person to have charge of the school." [Edit: Mr. Larry West himself had learnt this lesson too late].

Let us finish this short introduction by showing the recent photo session Sir Timothy agreed to take part in:

Sir Timothy during his daily morning exercise routine and strenght-training:

Sir Timothy enjoying his daily dose of being petted:

Sir Timothy being the subject of affection of many:

Sir Timothy during New Year's Eve Party (We love the sparkly coat! Sir Timothy is a fashion icon):

(A tip for those who want to achieve such an amazing effect: don't skimp on glitter):

Sir Timothy's daily beauty routine:

Sir Timothy enjoying his meal:

Sir Timothy having his well-deserved rest after such tiresome day:

Sir Timothy is the new member of the elite Club of LMM CATS™ - introduced via The Kilmeny of The Orchard. He is the BEST part of the novel and we love him for this!

WE STAN OUR SIR TIMOTHY! (PETITION TO REWRITE THE ENTIRE KILMENY BOOK SO THERE ARE ONLY SIR TIMOTHY AND HIS SERVANTS... I MEAN, PARENTS AND FRIENDS, PRESENT).

Thank you kindly for following our CAT-CELEBRITIES!!!!

#lm montgomery #kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #tribute to timothy the cat #i know larry said that robert wouldn't forgive eric for calling timothy “a cat” or “tim” but it fit better that timothy wouldn't #lmm elite cat club #i adore timothy #i adore all lmm cats #lmm lockdown #cats #maybe i should think of making posts for other members of elite lmm cats club???#headcanon: the reason larry had to leave his position of the school master was the fact he called sir timothy “kitten” or 'tim“#sir timothy never forgave him

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 5 months

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Big ol' content warning for sexual assault and something very, distressingly close to pedophilia. If I can on mobile, I'm gonna pop this one under a readmore.

Oh, quick addendum before we start: I'm getting very tired of the running motif of 'Larry was x but Eric was even better.' The Williamsons liked Larry but they like Eric better. Larry was a good teacher but Eric is a better one. Please, Maud, I'm begging you, stop. Let Eric stand on his own, rather than tearing his friend down to make him seem taller.

Anyway, Eric knows he loves Kilmeny now and immediately starts treating her like a child. “I am sorry you were disappointed, Kilmeny. I couldn’t come last night. Some day I shall tell you why. I stayed home to learn a new lesson. I am sorry you missed me—no, I am glad. Can you understand how a person may be glad and sorry for the same thing?”

This is a schoolmaster teaching a lesson, not a man talking to an equal. I haven't previously been seriously creeped out by how Eric talks to Kilmeny, but this is quite gross. I fear the condescension is going to skyrocket.

“Yes, very thoroughly. It was a delightful lesson when I once understood it. I must try to teach it to you some day. Come over to the old bench, Kilmeny. There is something I want to say to you. But first, will you give me a rose?”

Again, this is not reading like a man talking to the girl he has a crush on. This is, like, a parent talking to their child about mortality or something.

So Eric asks Kilmeny to introduce him to her aunt and uncle and she panics. She says they will forbid the two of them from seeing each other anymore and that they would ban her from ever going to the orchard again.

And Eric, still in schoolmaster mode, does not offer understanding, he goes, 'I know better than you and this is what we are doing.' Remember back when they first met, and he had this habit of asking her questions that were actually just orders? Yeah, that's back with a vengeance. He asked if she would introduce him, but she is not allowed to say no.

"He pitied her for the pain and bewilderment in her eyes; but he took her slender hands in his and said firmly,

“Yes, Kilmeny, I do mean it. It is not quite right for us to be meeting each other here as we have been doing, without the knowledge and consent of your friends. You cannot now understand this, but—believe me—it is so.”

Like, he's not wrong that them meeting secretly like this is not great, but he is not once considering her feelings here. He is patronizing and superior and absolutely should not be pursuing her romantically if this is how he's going to treat her emotions.

He keeps telling her that she'll understand things later. Just pat her on the head and tell her she'll understand when she's older, why don't you.

Again, the narrative has called Kilmeny a child quite a bit up to this point, but this is the first moment where it really feels like Eric is genuinely treating her like one. This is really bad given that the thing that has changed is that he now wants to marry her.

"Two great tears brimmed over in her big blue eyes and splashed down on her slate. Her lips quivered like a hurt child’s. Eric put his arm impulsively about her and drew her head down upon his shoulder. As she cried there, softly, miserably, he pressed his lips to the silky black hair with its coronal of rosebuds. He did not see two burning eyes which were looking at him over the old fence behind him with hatred and mad passion blazing in their depths. Neil Gordon was crouched there, with clenched hands and heaving breast, watching them." Oh for fuck's sake, Maud.

"She allowed herself to smile, but it was a rather forlorn little effort. She did not cry any more, but her spirits did not come back to her. Eric talked gaily, but she only listened in a pensive, absent way, as if she scarcely heard him. When he asked her to play she shook her head."

Care for her feelings? From this man? Not a chance!

“Very well, Kilmeny. Now, don’t worry, little girl. It will all come out all right.” No really though. Eric did not start treating Kilmeny like a child until he decided to marry her. This is so gross.

And then he kisses her. And she jumps away from him, scared, and runs away. And Eric thinks this: "The sweetness of that involuntary kiss clung to Eric’s lips as he went homeward, half-intoxicating him. He knew that it had opened the gates of womanhood to Kilmeny. Never again, he felt, would her eyes meet his with their old unclouded frankness. When next he looked into them he knew that he should see there the consciousness of his kiss. Behind her in the orchard that night Kilmeny had left her childhood."

In the interest of fairness, it is "involuntary" because he hadn't meant to initiate it, not because she didn't want it (although she doesn't seem to have). But the rest of it? The part where he kissed her and she didn't want him to and she will never again see him without thinking about it?

Lucy Maud, I don't think you intended to do this, but what you have written is practically assault.

#kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #In which i lose my entire patience with eric marshall #And this book starts to seriously earn its reputation

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batrachised · 5 months

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In manner and outlook she was still a child. Yet now and again she was as old as Eve. An expression would leap into her laughing face, a subtle meaning reveal itself in her smile, that held all the lore of womanhood and all the wisdom of the ages.

this is lm montgomery's version of the madonna/whore complex, like this is not a real woman lmao

#eric reads as real to me but it's because he's the worst lmao #kilmeny of the orchard #batrachised reads kilmeny #kilmeny readalong

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kristipetersenschoonover · 2 years

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Looking for an audio scare? My short “February Thaw” is on the DON’T FALL ASLEEP podcast!

I’m thrilled to announce that my short story, “February Thaw”—which was published earlier this year in Dark Moon Books’ Horror Library Volume 7—is now available on Blood Bound Books’ Don’t Fall Asleep podcast! There are several ways to listen, so (more…)

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abyssal-zone-stares-back · 2 months

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For a little fic, what about Eric and going to one of those farms where you can pick your own stuff (apples, corn, etc.) and having a grand old time, maybe petting some animals? Male or gn reader perhaps? -W

You turn around to look at Eric and see him shivering slightly. It seems the sweater he’s wearing isn’t thick enough to protect him from the chill. You wordlessly pull off your jacket and put it around his shoulders. He protests immediately. “Hey, n-no this is yours, I won’t t-take it from you.”

You can’t tell if his stutter is from the shivering or his natural nervousness. “Eric, I’ve lived here my whole life, I’m used to the chill. You aren’t, now keep it.” You gently push the jacket back into his hands and he puts it on, the leftover warmth from you wearing it still lingering on it. You turn back to continue walking, noticing him snuggling deeper into the jacket out of the corner of your eye.

“Eric, what apples do you want next?” He looks up at your question. “What apples, um, the sweet ones?” You nod. “The sweet ones it is,” You aren’t exactly sure what counts as a sweet apple but you know that it is not the granny smith ones. Red delicious perhaps? They’re pretty sweet.

You lead the way down the rows of trees, reading the signs to find the apple you’re looking for. You pause for a second, pulling Eric down an aisle to let a hayride pass. The two of you picking a few of the apples there and putting them into the bag, you continue on your way.

You don’t find the apples you’re looking for because you decide to go back. Eric is shivering again. “Eric,” He turns to you, an apple in his hand. “I’m getting cold, do you want to head back and get some hot chocolate or something? I think they have bunnies we could pet.”

“Y-yeah, that sounds nice, do you think they have cider?” “It would be weird if an apple orchard didn’t have cider.”

#abyssal writing #abyssal asks #markiplier egos #eric derickson x reader #eric derickson #soft boi hours

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bokettochild · 8 months

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with my father's funeral today and your perchance to write excellent "Wars/Time/Sky going dad", felt like telling you about a rather fitting song for any of the Link-Dads (although im mostly focusing on Sky and Legend)

it's called "My Father's Eyes" by Eric Clapton. he wrote it as his whole life, he never met his father. one lyric from it "I feel like a bridge that was washed away. My foundations were made of clay" made me think of Legend and how although he had his uncle, you do have part of him longing to have had parents at some point. knowing they love you helps, but it's quite different when they're gone forever

trust me, i know

another fitting line was "As my soul, slides down to die, how did I lose him, what did i try? Bit by bit, I've realized. That he was here with me, I looked into my father's eyes." it reminded me of when Legend realizes that Sky is pretty much his dad now. even though he never had his father, he looked up and saw him in Sky

it's a great song, my dad loved it

I'm sorry I didn't get to this over the weekend when you sent it, but as soon as I could, i sat down and listened to the song.

I don't know why or how I came out writing what I did, but I hope it helps at least a little (I think you were asking for a story? Sorry if I read this wrong)

Anyways, my brain's been trapped by the last update, and the song made me listen to other similar ones and I got this

Midnight Skies

Legend won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel jealous when, the moment they arrive at Hyrule castle, Four runs and jumps into the arms of the first knight they see. Not that he’d freely admit to said jealousy though as it churns in his gut when the man swings their smallest hero around with a deep laugh before settling small feet again to the earth and ruffling already mused and messy blonde hair. Height aside, there’s enough resemblance; something in the eyes and the set of the jaw, that leaves no doubt as to the fact that the armored soldier is their smithy’s father.

And doesn’t that just sting.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t let on anything over dinner, as not one but two men sit to their smithy’s side, father and grandfather all too eager to hear how their boy has been, egging stories out of the heroes and sharing some of their own. All while Four groans into the table and tries, desperately, to discredit all present and deny any and all accusations. Legend manages, somehow, to smile and laugh along, all while something dark twists inside his gut, hating the smithy for the way the other hero groans and complains about father and grandfather both.

As if he isn’t the luckiest one among them to have both.

Time’s father was a tree, or so the joke goes.

Twilight was raised by a whole village, the local blacksmith taking primary care of teaching him as he grew up, but even then, the relationship isn’t exactly father and son.

Warriors keeps any word of family held close to his chest, but the brief mentions in past imply that any father he knew was distant and typically drunk.

Wild doesn’t remember being a kid, much less having a family.

Wind was raised by his grandmother.

Hyrule’s father was gone before he was ever born.

Sky was an orphan raised in the academy by the elderly housekeeper and her husband.

And well, Legend had his uncle. For all of eight years before Ganon’s knights killed the man in a sewer beneath the castle. And even after the triforce brought him back, the man was... different.

It hurt.

Four’s father is warm. And when the smithy splits, four persons now rather than one, all are greeted by color and treated with fondness.

Uncle could never understand why he’d changed. Why the little boy who had wanted to run an orchard and live in the country would suddenly wake up crying most nights. Why warm hugs were fought off in panic. He’d been startled when Legend couldn’t stand to so much look at a dog, never mind pet one. There’d been endless confusion, and on some nights, he’d overheard Uncle talking with the Elder’s wife. She’d come up to check on them, on him specifically, but they’d both thought he was asleep. He wishes he had been. He'd never have heard Uncle admit he didn’t know how to handle him anymore. He'd never have heard the man call him a stranger.

Legend had set out the next day, claiming to visit Zelda.

A visit turned into a plea for anything to get him out, which itself turned to a mission to Holodrum to find Din.

Some days, he regrets having left.

The house was empty when he came home. He’s still not exactly sure what happened, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he hopes, wherever he went, that Uncle’s life got easier without him.

Sometimes he wishes he’d fought back the screaming of his mind and just allowed strong arms to wrap around him one last time. Wishes he’d hid it better. Realistically, at nine years old, there was no way to hide the demons in his mind. Not while living in a little one room cottage. Not when Uncle stayed up late anyways, or late for Legend anyway. Now, nine o’clock hardly seems late at all, especially when sleep evades him so often, but back then, it’d seemed so very late indeed, especially in winter.

Sometimes, when Warriors takes out his pipe or someone cleans their sword, he can almost smell the heavy tobacco and sword grease scent the old knight always carried on him. Even now, sitting in Four’s house, the smell is everywhere. Grandpa Smith smells just like him, and doesn’t that just rub it all in deeper? Doesn’t watching the little touches, the hands on shoulders, the hair ruffles, the slaps of the back that nearly send the smithy flying, just make his heart scream and fists clench with the desperate urge to punch the smithy in his smiling face.

Four just had to have it all, didn’t he? And the smithy doesn’t even realize it.

Legend excuses himself as soon as dinner is over.

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, is careful to smile and duck out when the others are all talking. It’s just all too much to stand and watch, and it hurts a part of him that he thought he’d numbed ages ago. So, the moment he gets out, a breathe of relief escapes into the night air around him.

He’s fine.

No really, he is. He’s fine.

Gnarled fingers catch old wood. The roof over the forge isn’t low, but it’s lower than the one in the house, and with the slope of it, so common in add-ons, it’s easy to hoist himself up onto the thatching, to settle back against weathered straw and stare up at the skies.

The night is a cool one, but any breeze there is exists in only a whisper, and he manages to not shiver against it as he lays, tracing constellations and finding long familiar ones.

Well, until he remembers how Uncle had been the one who’d taught him how to find them, then it’s ruined.

He’s not mad, he really isn’t.

But it does hurt.

It hurts like finding his parent’s house. Like knowing they were alive for years, that they weren’t dead like everyone said, or at least not when they’d said it. They’d been out there; lost, but thinking of him, and if he’d only come sooner, set out instead of lingering, innocent and clueless at home with Uncle, he might have had a chance to meet them.

Legend pushes himself up, arms wrapping around his knees as he stares to the stoney path that leads to the forge door.

Did he have his mother’s eyes? Before the dark world’s transformations changed their color for good? Did he get the pretty crystal blue from her? His father? Zelda has the same color as he used to; which parent did she get it from? They’re almost each others’ reflections, past scars and pain, the streaks of silver in her hair and the creases beneath his eyes. Life hasn’t been kind to either of them, but they had each other.

He wishes they’d had more.

He hasn’t been around as much as he wishes, but they’ve sat up and talked about it once or twice. What were they like- Zelda once mused into his arms- their parents? Was their father tall? Was their mother pretty? Do they have his nose? Which one had slender hands? Which one did the two of them get their sharp ears from? Who was the strong one?

And when the sun had set lower, and it’d been too dark in the keep for them to see each other anymore: would they have loved them? Would they be proud? Would their parents have looked at what they’ve done with their lives and smile? Would they be sad?

He’d never said it, kept it close, but tonight, staring up at the sky, Legend wonders if they would have understood.

Or maybe they would have been like Uncle, and the fate that got its claws into their children would have made them turn away in despair as well.

His throat hurts.

“Legend?”

The voice is soft, but it makes him start all the same. He hadn’t heard the door open at all, but there’s a shadow on the path below, framed in the light from the open cottage door.

Quickly, he runs a sleeve over his face. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but he checks just to be sure. After all, you can never be too cautious around other people. Especially adults.

“Vet?” the voice repeats, a tick of concern in it.

For a moment he debates just waiting for them to go in again and give up. He’s tired of people, and he doesn’t want to deal with whomever it is. He thinks it’s Twilight, that or Warriors, because the voice isn’t rough enough for Time, and the shadow is too tall for anyone else.

But after the time on the road that they’ve had, after he’s scolded Wild and Hyrule both for wandering off so often, he doesn’t exactly have the right to let the others worry. Not when he’s scolded so much for them doing the same.

“Up here,” it’s more sigh than call, drawn out reluctantly as he hunches forwards a bit further, chin settling on his folded arms.

The shadow on the path shifts. There’s the sound of everyone in the house still laughing and talking, but it fades as the door falls shut, the light and thus the shadow below disappearing with the noise.

He breathes again. They went in. He’s alone again.

He kind of wishes he wasn’t.

“You alright?”

So, he isn’t? Legend straightens, looking down below the thatching and catching sight of sideswept bangs and dark eyes. Twilight’s stare is shadowed, by his hair, the light, and some emotion the veteran can’t name, but it’s intense. If he hadn’t been fixed by it so many times before, it would make Legend squirm. It doesn’t though. He’s had the rancher up his tail enough before to be used to his stare. Scolding him for bullying Sky (he’d just been frustrated, but who even cared really?) for snarking back, or teasing Time. Twilight’s stare was on him almost the whole time he got turned into a rabbit, and while it wasn’t nearly as stern, it held a similar weight. Now it’s more similar to the night after that horrid battle with the shadow. Twilight’s eyes aren’t harsh or accusing, but there’s something warm in them for the brief moment he can see them before the man disappears beneath the awning.

Callused hands catch the beam at the edge of the rood, and it’s only a moment or so before the rancher is swinging up in front of him, puffing and grinning crookedly as midnight blue eyes catch his own. “Up for some company?”

He shrugs, but motions to the roof around him, settling further into his slump.

Twilight’s smile fades into a frown in moments. “Something bothering you?”

He shakes his head.

Dark brows draw low as the rancher swings up fully, crawling across the roof before settling at his side, heavy eyes fixed on him all the while. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles into his arms, but even as he says it, he knows Twilight won’t believe him.

The rancher’s hand lifts from the roof, hovering between them, uncertain.

Legend turns his stare back to the path below them. “’m just tired, rancher. ‘s fine.”

Heavy eyes scream disbelief more than words bother to utter.

Legend shifts, curling a bit tighter and setting his jaw, gaze fixing on the ground below. If he doesn’t look, Twilight’s pained stare can’t make him talk. If he doesn’t move, maybe Twilight too will give up and just walk away. It would make trying to sort his head out easier.

“Ledge, hey, talk to me.”

The rancher’s voice is so soft it physically hurts.

“You’ve been tense all evening, bunny-”

And that is just the breaking point because that’s Uncle’s pet name for him! He can’t help the way he turns, scowling, ready to hiss that Twilight cannot call him that, only to pause as predicted at the man’s heavy stare. Twilight looks all so familiarly pained, like he does when Wild’s struggling with his memories or Time’s being especially harsh. He’s never seen it directed at him though.

He's not sure what to do with it.

Dark hair sweeps forwards as the older man shifts, leaning against his own raised legs to mimic the veteran’s pose, stare heavy and seeking, but not expectant. “Did something happen?”

It takes a moment for him to remember to respond, but when he does he shakes his head quickly. Breaking eye contact helps, and he drops his gaze back to the path below, chin settling in the folds of his sleeves to stop him glancing back.

“Well somethings eating you.”

Not anything that’s the rancher’s business though.

“You’re not normally this quiet.”

That earns a look. A scowl that has Twilight chuckling, deep and throaty, shoulders shaking as the man turns glittering eyes back to the path.

Legend follows his gaze. There's nothing down there, but at least it’s something to look at. He needs that; if his mind doesn’t settle on something he just knows his thoughts will spiral out to places even he doesn’t recognize.

It’s quiet for a moment, only the deep sounds of Twilight’s breathing and the rustle of trees filling the air around them, and despite himself, Legend tunes himself to their sound, matching the rancher’s breath with his own until his heart slows a little in his chest and some of the knot that’s curled there loosens. It’s only then, as he matches the pace of the other, that Twilight breaks it to speak.

“Almost makes me miss home.”

“Ordon?” He’s not sure why he asked.

The rancher nods. “Yeah.” There’s another little chuckle, the shaking of the rancher’s head as he moves to lean back against his arms, eyes drifting upwards towards the sky. Legend tracks his stare, turned upwards to the Ancient Beast; the stars of its eyes twinkling extra bright against the expanse, as it stares down as though to meet it’s match. He huffs a little at the thought, silent, and turns back to stare at the path below them.

There’s a few stones missing on the left side, cracked and overgrown on the right.

It needs repair.

“I’ll bet Uli’s singing the baby to sleep right now,” the rancher muses, smile fond and lonesome. “Colin will have drifted off ages ago, and Rusl is probably still out in the forge, getting the last of the fall work done before the snow sets in.” The man hums, rolling his shoulders. “Goat kids’ll be nearly grown about now, ready for slaughter.”

Legend winces, and it earns another laugh from the man as sparkling eyes turn down to him again, grin still present but all too aware. “How about you? What will it be like at home for you?”

He debates answering, before at least deciding it’s not worth it to let Twi keep pushing. “The trees are probably ready for harvest. Orchard will be all full of fallen fruit right about now.”

“And?” the other man prods.

The veteran shrugs. “Fields are probably being cleared. I dunno, I’m not a farmer.”

“What is your family probably doing?”

Something sharp and bitter inside whispers ‘lying in graves’ but he keeps that to himself, instead answering “don’t have one.”

Again the soft smile fades, warm eyes all too pained, all too knowing, all too frustratingly warm as he sits and tries to ignore them. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s life.”

“So you have no one?”

Silence.

“Not even a friend somewhere, waiting for you to come home?”

He shrugs again, he’s not sure. Zelda is out there, but she knows he’s gone and won’t be expecting him back. Syrup and Irene might notice he’s gone, Gully will, but they won’t be waiting either. They all know he comes and goes like the autumn wind, there one moment and gone the next. It’s almost a saying back in Kakariko that if you see the hero you’d better catch him before he fades away, as there’s no telling where he is from day to day.

Seeing as there’s no place to linger for long, he doesn’t know what they expect.

Twilight twists around, gaze heavy and eyes sorrowful. “Is that what it is? Seeing Four at home?”

He huddles down a bit furtehr, as though the flinch off the blow the words deal.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” And it’s less question than it is sigh, the rancher turning back to the sky, pain still present in midnight blue, the stars dimming within. “When there’s no one at home waiting-”

“Do you have to rub it in?”

Twilight starts, flushes slightly and moves to rub at his neck. “Sorry.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbles into his sleeves, fingers gripping tight in dark folds. “’s just how things are. No point crying about it.”

“Makes things awful lonely though.”

As though Twilight needed to tell him.

Legend curls just a bit tighter into himself, eyes falling shut. It’s childish, but a part of him hopes that if he closes his eyes, Twilight will just go away and stop reminding him of it all. “Don’t you have a champion to be wrangling right about now?”

The thatch beneath them rustles, betraying some sort of movement from his companion, but this time he has the sense to keep his eyes shut as Twilight answers, has the sense to leave himself in the dark as to the look on the other man’s face, or what he’s doing. “Wild seemed pretty content to sit and listen to Time trying to out match Leon and Mister Smith.”

“And you weren’t content to stay with them?”

There’s a soft little hum and then “I wanted to be out here with you.”

What the actual-

“Why?”

“Because.” As though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

And it seems like to Twilight it must be, because when he lifts his face to stare at the man, bright eyes are turned up towards the sky, face peaceful and undisturbed, even as Legend stares in utter and complete confusion. He keeps staring too, waiting for Twilight to admit some real reason, or to look at him and laugh at him for believing the words, but the man doesn’t. Twilight just keeps watching the sky, gaze darting from one constellation to another until at last the man frowns, face creasing in confusion as he stares upwards.

Curious, Legend tries to follow his gaze. He has to edge a bit closer to the other man, but the flick of an ear is the only response to his motion, so that even when he's only a few inches away, there’s no complaint.

When he looks up, he sees the Holy Maiden cradling the moon in her arms.

“Four said there’s something round the moon,” it’s like Twi knows he’s looking too, although he knows there’s been nary a glance spared his way since last words were spoken. “but I can’t fathom what the heck it is.”

Legend huffs. “It’s the Holy Maiden.”

“The wha?” Twilight’s smile is almost infectuous.

He rolls his eyes, leaning a bit closer to trace the stars, showing the rancher how they mesh and weave into the image. “It’s Lolia, goddess of the Mirror World.” His hand falls, and it’s only then he realizes just how close he’s pressed himself to his brother’s side, Twilight’s gaze on him though stops him from shifting away, almost wary to move at all as the man watches. “She’s Hylia’s reflection.”

There’s a furrow in dark brows, but nothing said. Rather, an arm comes up around behind him, warm and solid against his back.

He's not sure what prompts him to continue, gaze trailing up to stare at the crescent cradled in star formed arms. “They say that when darkness first fell on the world, the people were afraid the world was ending, so Lolia crafted the moon to give them light and assurance, even on the longest and harshest of nights. They say she holds it up herself each night to give promise to her people, and whenever it’s light fades, she renews it so they’ll never be without.”

“Always just thought it was a big rock in the sky,” comes the answering hum.

Legend snorts.

The arm behind him shifts, lifting to settle around his shoulder and pull him closer as the rancher’s other hand points upwards, towards the Great Triangle. “What about that bunch over there.”

Laughter escapes him despite himself at the man’s incompetance. “You really were brough up human, huh?”

He’s expecting some scolding or huff, but Twilight just glances down, arching a brow expectantly.

Legend rolls his eyes and gives in. “it’s the Great Triangle, the stars that point the way to Hyrule Castle. Once upon a time, they say the Triforce was formed up there.”

~~~~~~~~~

#lu legend #lu twilight #ketto writes #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #cantankerouscanuck my beloved #best wishes with you friend #i hope you find healing

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no-where-new-hero · 5 months

Text

Thinking about how Kilmeny of the Orchard and Anne of the Island are the only two is Maud’s books that have the Name-Place but the place itself is less specific. Usually it’s houses or towns, but these two are untied to property or specific location in ways I find interesting. Not sure what that says about Anne of the Island—except that it’s part of a progression from House-Town-Province (?) to show Anne’s growth. But for Kilmeny, it really reduces her to this unreal woodland sprite who bears no resemblance to real womanhood in Eric’s eyes. I’m very curious about what exactly her family situation is but we’re a far cry from the usual clans and ancestral homes I’m used to. A Maud Heroine without a firm sense of self tied to place is a strange Maud Heroine indeed.

#kilmeny readalong #kilmeny of the orchard #lm montgomery #lmm lockdown

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alwayschasingrainbows · 3 months

Text

"I can't marry an ugly woman, you know," thought Penny plaintively."

(Penny Dark from Tangled Web by L. M. Montgomery)

vs:

“Oh, yes, I am sure I could never care for an ugly woman,” said Eric, laughing a little as he sat up."

(Eric Marshall from Kilmeny of The Orchard by L. M. Montgomery)

Headcanon:

Penny Dark is older Eric Marshall in disguise. Kilmeny wouldn't have had him, so he had changed his legal name and managed to convince Darks and Penhallows he was a distant relative (which, let's be honest, wasn't really that difficult, because Darks and Penhallows lost the count a long time ago.)

#lm montgomery #tangled web book club #tangled web #Penny Dark #Eric Marshall #kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #Ok I also dislike Eric

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birindale · 3 months

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As we enter the second wave of toys, a new She-Ra and Swift Wind have to be explained to the consumer, so Adora and Spirit wander through an interdimensional portal into a beautiful land called Crystal World. Josh is there.

Transcript/Image ID below the cut

[Image Description: 14 comic pages from the She-Ra mini-comic, “Across the Crystal Light Barrier”.

Cover: Starburst She-Ra stands with arms spread high to show off her sparkles, Crystal Swift Wind at her side. They’re standing atop a mountain made of glittering crystal, beneath the Princess of Power logo. At the bottom of the page, “Across the Crystal Light Barrier” is written and actually outlined, though still definitely not the color I would have gone with. Beneath that, in a small font, it reads, “Illustrations: (copyright symbol) Mattel, Inc. 1985 Hawthorne CA 90250 U.S.A. PRINTED IN HONG KONG. All Rights Reserved. (registered trademark symbol) and TM designate U.S. trademarks of Mattel, Inc.

The coloring style from this issue on becomes more pastel, and the gouache is blended more, giving it a softer feeling.

Page 1: A pink caption box reads, “Outings in Etheria are always very special and today’s picnic had been no exception. Adora smiled as Josh and Bow leaned against a fruit tree, the picnic basket empty and their bellies full. Spirit and Arrow stood nibbling at the lumps of sugar Glimmer held out in her hand.” Which pretty much covers the illustration. Adora is sitting on a blanket with the empty picnic basket.

Josh was apparently slated to be the Robin to Bow’s Batman at one point, but he never did get an official design, so this is just ‘generic blond man’. A second pink caption box at the bottom of the page contains the credits, “Produced exclusively for Mattel by: Writer… Tina Harris & Eric Frydler. Penciler… Jim Mitchell. Inker… Todd Kurosawa. Colorist… Charles Simpson. Editor: Joan Dumbauld & Lee Nordling”.

“Want to race, Adora?” asks Glimmer. The composition on this page is leaps and bounds over the previous issue. Whatever Jim Mitchell was doing between waves one and two, I appreciate it.

“Sure! Come on!” says Adora.

End Page 1.

Page 2: Adora and Glimmer mounted up. The second Bow fired his starting arrow, they took off! Galloping down the orchard path, they disappeared from sight. Neck-in-neck [sic], they raced against each other. Adora and Glimmer sped over field and stream, dashing wildly along the winding path.” So apparently we’re just going for outright narration. That’s cool. Kind of a weird decision in a comic, but I’m not a cop. Bow shoots his starting arrow and the girls take off, Adora on Spirit and Glimmer on Arrow.

A beautifully colored panel of the race in partial silhouette.

A rounded white caption box reads, “Suddenly, a mysterious burst of light appeared from nowhere!” and we see Adora rear back on Spirit, who balks at a stylized glow.

End Page 2.

Page 3: A pink caption box reads, “Adora and Spirit slowed their pace. Startled, Arrow bolted, throwing Glimmer from his back”. Arrow is rearing and our heroes are walking sedately into the light.

End Page 3.

Page 4: A lavender caption box reads, “Rounding the bend, Josh and Bow hurried to see the race’s finish. They found Glimmer on the ground and helped her to her feet. "Where is Adora?" Bow asked. "I don’t know," Glimmer replied. "She just disappeared!" "Over here!" Adora cried. I’ve crossed the Crystal Light Barrier." Missed some quotation marks there. Another reason not to use them in caption boxes. Adora and Spirit’s silhouette is distorted by the field of light and Josh’s hair is brown now.

“Spirit and I are lost in a strange and wondrous land!” says Adora.

End Page 4.

Page 5: A lavender caption box reads, “There Adora and Spirit stood, across a bottomless crack. "Arrow and I will save you!" Bow exclaimed. Glimmer begged him not to go and Adora breathed a word of caution. "She’s right. It’s much too dangerous. We’ll have to find our own way back to Etheria."" Adora and Spirit stare down into a foggy abyss, surrounded by crystal.

“Come on, Spirit! Maybe we can find someone to help us,” says Adora.

End Page 5.

Page 6: A pink caption box reads, “Adora and her faithful steed wandered for many miles. Above them shone a bright rainbow sun. All around them, jewel-like mountain tops and petrified flowers glistened under the strange light.” over an illustration of exactly that.

“How beautiful!” says Adora, smiling.

End Page 6.

Page 7: A lavender caption box reads, “Soon they came upon a dazzling sight–a glittering herd of horses, unlike any they had ever seen before! Each horse had a color all its own–and each one shone like crystal! "Spirit, look!" Adora cried. "We’ve found help at last! But who can these beauties be?"" Adora points at a group of seven sparkling steeds, each with a pair of feathered (crystalline) wings.

“We are the Guardians of Crystal World,” says a voice from off panel.

“Who…? What…?” asks Adora, looking around.

End Page 7.

Page 8: A lavender caption box reads, “The voice belonged to a sleek, crystal horse named Crystal Moonbeam. Adora quickly spoke to him. "We came across the Barrier and now we can’t get back." The lavender stallion nodded. "Recrossing the Crystal Light Barrier is certainly most difficult."" And I have to tell you, this horse is not lavender. His toy is a translucent violet, but this comic has him a soft periwinkle, cut through with orange light because he’s made of crystal.

“Quite soon, you and your horse will become like us,” says Crystal Moonbeam, ominously.

“You mean we will turn into crystal?” asks Adora. Neither she nor Spirit seem thrilled at the possibility.

End Page 8.

Page 9: A pink caption box reads, “Crystal Moonbeam nodded gravely. "Yes. Anyone who touches the ground of Crystal World must change." But Adora hadn’t changed at all!” There was plenty of room for dialogue boxes saying this. Why even make this a comic?

“I haven’t stepped from Spirit’s back,” says Adora. “I haven’t touched your world."

“Then, there may be a chance,” says Crystal Moonbeam.

End Page 9.

Page 10: A lavender caption box reads, “Dashing to his herd, Crystal Moonbeam returned with a sparkling filly. "This is my sister Crystal Sun Dancer," the lavender horse whinnied. "She knows the way across the Crystal Light Barrier."" The still distinctly un-lavender Crystal Moonbeam introduces them to a slightly smaller, yellowy orange horse.

“But to cross the Barrier again, you must have the power to fly!” says Crystal Moonbeam.

“The crack is too deep to risk crossing it any other way,” says Crystal Sun Dancer.

End Page 10.

Page 11: Adora raises her arms and becomes Starburst She-Ra, with a long flowing cape with two wrist loops. Swift Wind becomes Crystal Swift Wind, a transparent pink plasticine version of himself. Herself? What are Swift Wind's pronouns this wave? The horse is see-through now. They have wings and a golden pleather mask, complete with unicorn horn. Light and sparkles radiate off the pair of them as they transform.

A pink caption box reads, "Adora unsheathed her Sword of Protection at once and raised it to the sky. In an instant, she and Spirit were transformed. Crystal World echoed with her powerful cry. "For the honor of Grayskull, I am She-Ra!"

End Page 11.

Page 12: "Swift Wind! Walking here in Crystal World has given you a crystal sheen!" says She-Ra, smiling as she reaches around to touch Swift Wind's face.

A pink caption box reads, "Crystal Sun Dancer, Crystal Moonbeam, She-Ra and Crystal Swift Wind glowed with an unearthly energy as they leaped toward the deep opening. With a brilliant burst of color, they broke through the Crystal Barrier and vanished—gone!" as we see all three winged horses take flight, Swift Wind carrying She-Ra, surrounded by glowing and sparkles.

"We'd better change back fast before our friends find out our secret!" says She-Ra, dismounting from Swift Wind and spreading her arms to show off her new starburst cape. Crystal Moonbeam and Crystal Sun Dancer aren't in frame, but they're still around, I promise.

End Page 12.

Page 13: A pink caption box reads, "Meanwhile, in Etheria, Bow, Glimmer and Josh had been looking high and low for Adora and Spirit. Suddenly Bow heard a rustling sound behind him." Right, Josh is here. I forgot about him already. He's a brunet now. He's holding onto his belt and kind of pouting at the panel gutter, while Glimmer stares forlornly at her staff (here a pink and blue rendition that looks more like a clock than the toy-accurate rose-with-jewel). Bow looks over his shoulder at the approaching Adora, Spirit, Crystal Sun Dancer, and Crystal Moonbeam. A mountain range towers behind her, and the few trees we can see are full of orange… bubbles? Transparent fruit? They've missed a few of the leaf portions. Sloppy work, Skip, but you were dealt a poor hand here.

"Adora! Where have you been? We've been worried," says Bow, with an uncomfortable smile.

"Oh Bow! I've been in a wonderful land called Crystal World," says Adora. These last two panels were just close-ups, but the backgrounds have some really beautiful gradients on them. It really seems like they were going for more of a 'storybook' feel from this wave on.

End Page 13.

Page 14: A lavender caption box reads, ""Tell us, Adora, who are your new friends?" Bow asked. Adora made introductions all around and Glimmer fairly gleamed. "Oh Spirit, with your crystal coat, you're more beautiful than ever!"" Josh and Arrow smile on as Glimmer and Bow greet the new, shinier version of Spirit. Adora has an arm slung around Spirit's neck, while Crystal Sun Dancer and Crystal Moonbeam watch with smiles of their own.

"It is exciting to see another land…" says Adora.

"But it's so much better to come home to my friends!" she finishes, in the traditional red used for a minicomic's 'moral'. So… I guess the moral is don't wander into interdimensional portals? Traveling might seem cool but you're going to enjoy going home way more? Who knows. Bow, Glimmer, and Josh have all shuffled places, but they're crowded around Adora now, horses nowhere in sight. Everyone's smiling contentedly.

End Page 14.

End ID]

#minicomics #motu #across the crystal light barrier #adora #bow #glimmer #josh #spirit #arrow #crystal moonbeam #crystal sun dancer #crystal world #she-ra #swift wind #crystal swift wind #wait aren't people going to notice that their friend's horse and she-ra's magic steed are both crystal now #does ANYONE care about maintaining a secret identity anymore?

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arizonapoppy · 9 days

Note

Hi! 🐝 maybe... "The Other Man" (canon of your choice, although the first character that came to my mind was... Neil Gordon from Kilmeny of Old Orchard. But of course, feel absolutely free to create a fake story summary based on any fandom you like). Thank you in advance! I hope you'll have a lovely day :)

Thank you for the ask! These are fun!

The Other Man

Neil Gordon was often described as skulking. Or sulking.

But what people didn’t know was that he was actually lurking.

There’s a difference.

You see, Neil was a secret agent from an arcane and powerful entity in Montreal known as Chateau Bois de Flambeau.

He was hot on the heels of a known dangerous fugitive, Eric Marshall. He had a lead that Marshall was about to carry out a job on PEI. After much groundwork, Neil was about to apprehend him.

But all was for naught when Kilmeny tipped off the suspect and allowed him to escape.

But a Gordon always gets his man. This is the Rest of the Story.

——

Anyone else want to send me an ask?

#asks #kilmeny of the orchard #Gordon. Neil Gordon.#alwayschasingrainbows

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hypertextdog · 11 months

Text

no, no. i'm a POSTSTER. it's diff. and you would NEVER understand. YOU'RE a poster. at best. and a Poseur at avg. iff we're being real. you die cause of organs and your heirs get material things -- whatever. like that will last. ever heard of "half life" idiot ? no yea no no yea no definitely yea no yea no but like entropy? you know entropyyea. yea,yea thats the idea. yea the thermodynamic kind not the informatic. yea. i mean in some dialectical s they're actually different,manifestations of the same idea. but yea soWHEREAS i die cause of adventurous happy-go-lucky attitude and drafts fly out from in me like confetti -- i die in public, blood and chunks everywhere and outside snd 100, 120 children all frilly and well dressed and bored out of their minds, hip hip hooray and they explode from their picnic blankets and apple orchard Jamborees and dying greatgrandparents hospital embraces, they come to where my corpse is littering out draft after draft into the public water supply drafts like "making a beautiful girl argue for her right to listen to t swift and if she uses even 1 fallacy i hijack the flight we r on", uncaptioned link to decade old mystery ytp "scout [tf2] gets gaylifted" with only a "#real" to its.name, higher level stuff like "me when i see a hottie: hey cream puff, see some thing you like / him: ugh / hot guy but not to me (narrating sultry as he types a tweet super slow with his meatfingers): Never read marx, but I lowkey and sincerely think i got the gist ffom Bluey / hottie: NEED😻 / me: ugh" too and that sort fo thing. and the children catch them -- the posts -- like bubbles or dandelion, they're the talk of the town, they trade them like gogos crazy bones, they all go out to recess and leave notes on my posts, and even after i am gone i am loved. and i have left behind a blogger's legacy. and you leave behind, what?-- years from now. cash? house?. yea. whereas tormented boarding school youth, hampered + still moving on from squilliam in 2023, clambering inside following 1oclock bells? they make frantic desperate deals of my posts like on last 2mins of sharktank, after my late drafts are banned for proving a "distraction in class" -- lie groaning hungry for postmortem notes and faves in the dark bottom drawer of the teachers desk. and the invisible hand of my postster's legacy, my guardian posting angel reaches down and compels a junior boardingschool misbehaveant, blond and bracesed and he doesnt understand what hes getting himself into, to sneak inside with phoneflashlight during lunch or labor day or yes perhaps even schoolclosed for prolonged duetoweatherconditions. and Eric locates these moribund posts while urbexing, and photocopies and uploads them to his living blog on the night and in fact at the very moment of the first ever "poster's eclipse" in lgbt history. such that within days, my dead ass goes viral

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 5 months

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Eric is heartbroken and doesn't know how he can go on living. He sleepwalks through his life and can't care about anything. But he is also growing stronger through that pain:

Out of that fiery furnace of agony Eric Marshall was to go forth a man who had put boyhood behind him for ever and looked out on life with eyes that saw into it and beyond.

Now there's several ways to take this, but the interesting one for me is that Kilmeny put girlhood aside and became a woman when Eric kissed her and Eric put boyhood aside and became a man when Kilmeny refused him. It's a clear vision of the distinction between men and women: girls become women when they discover sex and boys become men when they go through hardship.

There is a funeral and so school is closed. Instead of going to the funeral -- which is presumably why the school is closed? So people can attend the funeral and mourn together? -- Eric goes back to the orchard. He doesn't expect to see Kilmeny there, but still he can't keep away. Even when specifically ordered out of fairyland and told not to come back, he can't help trying to sneak back in the back way, just one last time.

He crosses Neil Gordon, who does not acknowledge him, and at long last we get the best line in the book, the one I have been so looking forward to: Eric had entered into a new fellowship whereof the passport was pain. Exquisite. Chef's kiss. 10/10, no notes. It's such a bad metaphor it has looped back into near brilliance.

Oh hey, it is September now! Official confirmation from the narrative. Eric and Kilmeny have known each other for three months, for the curious.

The orchard was very silent and dreamy in the thick, deep tinted sunshine of the September afternoon, a sunshine which seemed to possess the power of extracting the very essence of all the odours which summer has stored up in wood and field. There were few flowers now; most of the lilies, which had queened it so bravely along the central path a few days before, were withered. The grass had become ragged and sere and unkempt.

I do genuinely really like this bit. The orchard is withering away as its people are filled with sorrow. I really wish there had been more personification of the orchard like this. Definitely the best descriptions in the entire book are of the orchard itself. In those, we see the Maud who will make a career of description and tying her characters to their settings and breathing life into the physical environment.

Eric wanders through the orchard and falls into reverie, re-living all the good times he and Kilmeny had here. So deep in thought is he that he does not notice that Kilmeny has arrived, to do the same thing. She does not expect Eric to be there, since it's the middle of the day during the school year. Kilmeny, like the orchard, like Eric, is suffering physically from the pain and heartbreak. She is pale and diminished and a shadow of herself. We get a description that would not be out of place in a Victor Hugo novel:

Years seemed to have passed over the girl in those few days. She had drunk of pain and broken bread with sorrow. Her face was pale and strained, with bluish, transparent shadows under her large wistful eyes, out of which the dream and laughter of girlhood had gone, but into which had come the potent charm of grief and patience.

So Kilmeny spots Eric in the orchard and, before she can even come to terms with her feelings at seeing him again, disaster strikes!

Behind Eric Neil Gordon was standing tense, crouched, murderous. Even at that distance Kilmeny saw the look on his face, saw what he held in his hand, and realized in one agonized flash of comprehension what it meant.

Oh no! Neil is about to kill Eric! By the time Kilmeny closes the distance between them it will be too late and the axe will have struck! What can she do?

Kilmeny shan't marry the Prince!

#kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #I'm kind of enjoying this now actually #When eric isn't being the worst and people aren't being hella racist about neil #It's almost a fun pulpy melodrama #Sadly the afore mentioned two things are like 80% of the book combined

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batrachised · 5 months

Text

The boy, in particular, had a distinctly foreign appearance, in spite of the gingham shirt and homespun trousers, which seemed to be the regulation, work-a-day outfit for the Lindsay farmer lads. He had a lithe, supple body, with sloping shoulders, and a lean, satiny brown throat above his open shirt collar. His head was covered with thick, silky, black curls, and the hand that hung down by the side of the wagon was unusually long and slender. His face was richly, though somewhat heavily featured, olive tinted, save for the cheeks, which had a dusky crimson bloom. His mouth was as red and beguiling as a girl’s, and his eyes were large, bold and black. All in all, he was a strikingly handsome fellow; but the expression of his face was sullen, and he somehow gave Eric the impression of a sinuous, feline creature basking in lazy grace, but ever ready for an unexpected spring.

👀

#lusty maud montgomery #also eric you seem very interested in this lithe supply young man with a beguiling mouth #lmao #kilmeny of the orchard #batrachised reads kilmeny #kilmeny readalong

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