#this magic moment

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Earl Grant - This Magic Moment - Decca - 1966

#witches #moments #occult #vintage #this magic moment #decca records #decca #earl grant #stereo #vinyl #1966

[longtransfer]

#original photography #this magic moment

[yolowritter]

Plagg's past holder is...Not Great™

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to another post! This here is a little something I cooked up for Plagg in "A Case of Ladybug Luck". To give some context, I very much consider the Kwami to be Gods, and treat them like it. So when the story moved towards exploring them further, I decided to write a piece of Plagg with a past holder. Yes, Sullivan's name is a Dark Souls 3 reference. I'm a nerd, sue me. Actually don't, I can barely pay for my readers' therapy. Anyway, this can be read as a standalone, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to post! Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Emotional manipulation, extreme apathy, plague and disease, and mass-genocide. Abusing Cataclysm is very dangerous to others.

A man sits on an old throne, inside a forgotten, crumbling keep. The roof has long caved in on one side of the chamber, letting the rain and thunder slip through the many cracks. The halls of this castle are silent, without so much as the squeak of a mouse to interrupt the heavy breathing echoing in the wind. His face is covered by a cracked helmet, one adorned with the faceplate of a panther’s skull. And the rest of the body rests inside an ever-rusting suit of black plated armor, decorated at the knees and shoulders by silver claws. Those very arms extend to wrap around the body, as if in a tired, pointless gesture of protection. Pontiff Sullivan sits upon his dusty throne on an eerily quiet night, with only the occasional strike of thunder to shatter the silence.

Beyond what tired eyes can see lies the rest of the keep, a forgotten Lord’s castle than once stood tall and proud. Moss and tangled vines have begun growing on the exterior walls, most of the windows blown to pieces by howling winds, and not a single soul’s footprint to be found. Rather, all Plagg can see with his endless eyes are the harsh claw marks on the ground, another result of his master’s choice of adornment. On the bottom side of Sullivan’s boots lay the jagged claws of a fierce black panther, a terrifying beast whose presence haunts every speck of air the God of Destruction can perceive. By his rough estimate, Plagg guesses it must have been at least two decades since even a stay cat set foot inside this old keep, at the top of a small hill overlooking a small town. Even the massive greatsword laying against the throne’s arm has been gathering dust, slowly eroding with the passage of time.

His master does nothing but sit on this very spot, has not moved in what the Kwami thinks may be weeks or even longer. All ‘round the ancient castle lay dark scorch marks of pure Destruction, one of which is visible through a half-crumbled wall just a few halls away. The howling winds continue to tear the keep apart one stone brick at a time, and Plagg is left only with memories. He recalls the battlefield, those very fields just outside the main gate. Said former testament to human engineering now lies ajar, with worms slowly eating at the wood it’s mad of. But once, many years ago, it had been the sight of war. Sullivan, then a young and determined knight, had finally gathered whichever friends could be mustered to retake his ancestral home from the boy’s uncle. Plagg cannot remember for the life of him if they were actually ever related by blood. Yet…the Kwami cannot find reason for the detail to matter. No, instead his jumps to Sullivan’s bravery and courage, to the sheer presence of shining gold that almost three hundred men had rallied behind. A kind smile and encouraging words had appealed to morals and knightly conviction once, the same features now lay hidden behind a faceless mask.

That boy…is gone now. Plagg knows as much, but is still tethered to this shell of a man, a shattered reflection of valiance twisted into nothing more than self-righteous foolishness. That was why, in the pride of his old age, Sullivan had sent his servants and knights all away to far-off lands, back when a single sliver of goodness still nested in his heart. The breastplate’s tattered cape billows in the wind as the Pontiff finally stands, armor crafted by the magic of Plagg’s Miraculous creaking with every movement. The Kwami feels himself strain as much as the metal plates, having held Sullivan’s pitiful existence together for so long that he, a literal God, has begun to long for the separation that so defined his kin before first contact with humanity. Truly, even being formless once again would be preferable to this horrible stagnation that permeated the very concept of Destruction.

With great effort, a single step is taken, and then another…and another…and another, until eventually the aging Pontiff’s legs have carried them both across the deserted halls and up a staircase that’s barely stable enough to hold a single man’s weight. It’s then, overlooking the surrounding lands from high above, that Plagg finally sees it. His Destruction, the echoes left behind by that great Cataclysm which brought Sullivan and his comrades victory, a gain in which the Kwami had once gladly shared. It’s been so long since he’s observed the full scope of that battle, if only because no mortal should be able to do the same. And yet, the Pontiff takes deep, ragged breaths as he gazes to the black flickers lining the grass, almost as if marking the ground with timeless scorches. Plagg feels it too, the subtle way in which they tremble in warning. He’s already known of course what any deviation from the throne-watching entails, but now it’s fully confirmed.

In the town below, a single traveler rests at a tavern, coughing lightly as if to clear his throat. Not a soul suspects, fewer have even heard the rumors, but what is death if not the slow, methodical destruction of physical matter? What is impending doom, if not something Plagg can feel? The stormy night goes on, and a blinding flash of thunder splits the skies as Sullivan begins to raise his arms. Trembling old bones and half-shattered armor both creak in protest, much more resistance than the God of Destruction can bother mustering. Still, the Pontiff manages to raise his clawed gauntlets up to an opening in the crumbling watchtower’s stones, and murmurs the word under his breath.

Cataclysm. A notion that Plagg had once been proud to personify, when that very same power had turned a legion of bloodthirsty, half-mad men to dust right before Sullivan’s eyes. The Kwami had used it then in desperation, this flicker of divine power. To save his Holder, a brave man he’d grown far too attached to for anyone’s good. With golden hair to match the aura surrounding the young knight, and green eyes glimmering with brilliant rays of hope as banners were raised in victory…Plagg had failed to see the darkness skulking underneath. That same evil was now made manifest in wisping black smoke ‘round the old Pontiff’s clawed arms, with a pained grunt as viscous veins of inky puss flickered to life all across his body.

The once rosy tint of the boy’s cheeks had long been stolen, replaced with a pale, ghastly complexion fit only for the horror stories told about the many creatures which had great aversion from the sun. Plagg hadn’t bothered to learn what the folktales were calling them this century. The black energy crackled all through Sullivan’s body, sapping both his and the Kwami’s lifespans to bring forth the very power that even a God like him had grown to fear. Of course, Plagg had heard the justification countless times, so many that he had truly began to lose count faster than Sullivan lost his mind. Yet it mattered little, when the dark mist of Cataclysm spread throughout the air, carried by howling winds all the way to its unsuspecting victims.

A raspy cough nearly tears through the Pontiff’s lungs, and he desperately clutches a crumbling wall to stay upright. “It’s a mercy, Plagg. They are all sick, and I am the cure…” he speaks the words with a conviction the Kwami once admired, and falls silent once more. In the town below, the Plague has begun to spread, from the traveler to the innkeeper, and then to another. The swirling dark mists flood the air around the slumbering villagers, and Plagg feels each and every bright soul disintegrate into absolutely nothing, leaving naught but tiny specks of ash.

#miraculous ladybug #a case of ladybug luck #ao3 fanfic #plagg #past black cat holder #kwami as gods #abuse of miraculous powers #can you tell im mentally ill #and a menace to society? #but hey thats just a theory #anyway yeah #I'll post more acoll soon #just wanted to share #this magic moment #of ripping off Dark Souls

[music-addiction-disorder]

#lou reed #this magic moment #lost highway #o.s.t. #1997 #david lynch #Spotify

[guerrilla-operator]

Lou Reed // This Magic Moment (The Drifters cover)

This magic moment While your lips are close to mine Will last forever Forever till the end of time

So why won´t you dance with me? Hey baby Why won´t you dance with me?

#lou reed #this magic moment #lost highway #rock #experimental #protopunk #glam rock #art rock #noise rock #tunes #audio #favorite songs ever #cover #the drifters #Spotify

[giresthoughts]

‘Forever’, Aug. 2009, model Maddy, ph Erik Gigengack

#black and white photography #this magic moment #lou reed

[lisamarie-vee]

#the drifters #this magic moment #vinyllove #1960s #b&w

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

#marcille donato #falin touden #farcille #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #tw blood #tw body horror #tw gore #as a normal farcille fan this revival has been on my mind since i first read it and getting to watch it is like yippee!! #like messy revivals are everything - the consequences that will haunt u for the rest of the time they are alive #the initial hopeful moments where it all seemed well but quickly descend to That not being the case - losing not only the bit of evidence #evidence that your dream may work out but also someone you deeply care about in the process… marcille my Beloved #ofc wholly thruout the journey - at the forefront of it - getting falin back was the most crucial point but so wuickly :(( it was lost #on the other end its crazy to think about the compoments of falin now - human - dragon (dungeon) - marcille’s magic and desperation #the food the crew cooked (digested) - she is made of many parts!! #also i did not realize how medical it feels to draw smth like this. i dont usually explore the inner parts or use a lot of blood #in my work so rendering everything and looking up refs it felt quite magical (?) #ruporas art

[1day1movie]

This Magic Moment (2016) Gentry Kirby, Erin Leyden.

#This Magic Moment #Gentry Kirby #Erin Leyden #1day1movie

[genkinahito]

My Mother’s Eyes, Iruka wa Furadansu wo Odorurashii, 365DAYs＋, This Magic Moment, Metameta, Sylvanian Families the Movie: A Gift from Freya, Japanese Film Trailers

Welcome to the third and final trailer post of this week. You can find the first one here and the second one here. Okay! I’m going to be taking a break for the winter period and will just be posting about trailers and a few films reviews. As stated in previous weeks, it’ll be a video game and enjoying food Christmas with a couple of reviews to round out the year. Before that, I have a film…

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#365DAYs＋ #Iruka wa Furadansu wo Odorurashii #Japanese Film Trailers. #Metameta #My Mother’s Eyes #Sylvanian Families the Movie: A Gift from Freya #This Magic Moment #Youtube

[sboochi]

Pretty sure "ease him" doesn't mean anything but I'm NOT rewriting that now >:/

First >> Next

#good omens #bbc merlin #aziraphale #crowley #arthur pendragon #merlin #magic omens au #crowley stop trying to look cool this is NOT the right moment #this took 16 hours im not even joking #entirely my fault bc i insist on drawing the speech bubbles manually #tune in for next part for some thrilling action! (more hostility) #my art #long post

[roughwighting]

Momentous

It’s just the three of us. My boyfriend, his best friend, and me. We are a threesome. I love Jim, I think. He’s handsome, athletic, and he treats me like a flower. But I really like John, Jim’s best friend and roommate. He’s a thinker, a philosopher, a Henry Thoreau look alike, only better looking.Continue reading Untitled

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#boyfriends #college life #college town #Henry David Thoreau #momentous #mountain #mountain living #Pennsylvania #prompt: write about something momentous #the Universe talks #this magic moment

[giresthoughts]

‘Forever’, 2009, ph Erik Gigengack

#Maddy #Lou Reed #This Magic Moment #Oele #Twente

[call-me-schmidt]

#music #this magic moment #jay & the americans #i tag everything

[lisamarie-vee]

#doc pomus #mort shuman #the drifters #this magic moment #save the last dance for me #rock and roll hall of fame