#Seventh Sword

[linux-evangelist]

Literally Nnanji

if i had absolute power i would be really chill with it actually. i would never corrupt absolutely. i would keep it real niceys. heart

[sealeneee]

Warden Mahariel — Seven of Swords

commission by @artwins

The Seven of Swords indicates theft, betrayal, deception and trickery. You may be trying to get away with something and are sneaking around behind other people’s backs, hoping to go undetected. The Seven of Swords could also imply that you are trying to escape from a situation that is not working for you anymore rather than dealing with it head-on. You may attempt to run away from commitment, responsibility, hard work or love. You may procrastinate, letting problems slip and become worse because you do not want to deal with them. Sometimes you just have to face what has to be faced.

[vanhelsingapologist]

leave my heart to the damned as you build me a bed in the earth

[evilasiangenius]

The Nephilim

"Why don’t you tell me why you are considering disobeying?” Aziraphale said gently, and Crowley could not help but feel a little twinge of strange emotion at the kindness and warmth in the Prince of Hell’s voice.

“I...” Crowley gulped. “Er, uh, that is...I...”

“Yes?” Aziraphale’s expression was soft, and the way the sunlight gleamed upon those blue eyes, Crowley felt as if he were staring into the sun-dappled sea, and his breath caught at the beauty.

“Just don’t know if I can do it, that’s all,” Crowley muttered.

“Do what?”

“You know...er...eh...” Crowley waved his hands vaguely in the air. “That thing…the...”

“The begetting?”

“The begetting,” Crowley agreed, miserable.

“Perhaps you should ask an expert,” Aziraphale suggested. “Why don’t we call up Asmodeus and ask him? He is after all, a specialist in these matters.”

Crowley turned a few different and interesting shades, and it made Aziraphale take closer notice.

“What’s wrong? Why shouldn’t we ask the demon of lust what to do? It is his department, after all.”

“Um, er...just don’t want to trouble him?” Crowley said lamely, mentally scrambling for an excuse. “He is an important Prince of Hell after all.”

“Quite right. Whereas I am an unimportant Prince of Hell,” Aziraphale teased, amused at the angel’s embarrassment.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Mortified, Crowley stumbled over his words. “I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just that I um...uh, it’s fine if it’s you. I’d appreciate your input, because you are an important Prince of Hell and would... I mean, if you could give me some suggestions. Uh. We needn’t bother anyone else?”

“Well. It’s not so daunting, my dear, once you recall that all animals do it too,” Aziraphale explained in a reasonable manner, pleased by Crowley’s words. “And right now with a corporeal body, you are part animal as well. We all are, really. Just let the animal part take over, that’s easy to do.”

“...guh?” Crowley asked.

“And of course, we must not forget that the Almighty has given out the commandment to be fruitful and multiply.”

“Was that a commandment proper or-?”

“If it weren’t, I would think that the animals and humans would not be so fruitful and mutiplicitous.”

“Oh. Oh! You’re right.”

“Of course I am. But that’s not the problem is it?” Aziraphale intuited. “You’re...shy aren’t you?”

“Shy? Me? Naaaaah. Course not, I’m not shy, that’s ridiculous-”

“Here. I’ll show you something that can help get you started.” Aziraphale held out his hand, offering it to Crowley, and for the first time Crowley noticed the black crown of a ring that Aziraphale wore on the pinky of his right hand, twisting tentacles curved around a round finger.

Crowley glanced up and realized the Prince of Hell no longer wore his crown of meteoric iron on his head. It seemed strange to see Aziraphale uncrowned, and he realized that he had grown accustomed to Aziraphale, so much so that noticing a change in his appearance was unsettling.

Crowley reached out, letting the Prince of Hell take his hand.

“Humans need warming up. You can’t just go straight to begetting my dear, you must build up to it,” Aziraphale said. “May I?”

“Yes.”

And taking Crowley’s hand in both of his, Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s palm that Crowley felt all the way down to the bottom of his feet.

“Ah…!”

“And then, you get closer.” Aziraphale kissed the tips of Crowley’s fingers, one at a time, before turning his hand so that the Prince of Hell could kiss the inside of his wrist, sending shivers sliding over all of his skin.

“Closer yet,” Aziraphale breathed, and a fiendishly strong arm wrapped around Crowley’s waist, pulling him close. Before he could panic, before he could pull away, soft lips pressed against his throat, and a strange sound came from deep inside him that Crowley had never heard before.

“And then you give them a kiss,” Aziraphale pressed his lips lightly to Crowley’s lips, a faint touch of flesh upon flesh that ended as quickly as it began.

Crowley’s lips parted with a breath, and for a moment he did not know where or when or even who he was, just that the sky was awfully blue but not the deep blue of the demon lord’s eyes.

x

[smallest-turtle]

still thinking about the scions who had complete whiplash in stormblood seeing deidre so hurt and angry trying to 'prepare' haurchefant when he's on the first for 'how shes changed' only for him to just be like 'you know that white magic is also a forbidden art right? that shes just been doing this entire time?' like yeah he Does have some Specific Context to dark knights being scary but also shes BEEN doing illegal classes SINCE THEY MET asdfghjkl. Honestly thank GOD she has a real weapon now!!! IT WAS SCARIER WHEN SHE ONLY HAD THE STICK

[lucien-calore]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HALLOWEEN BABY!!!!

[beetleye]

lil shadow doodles as i fall back into an old fandom !!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 19

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞!" Harry's voice kept calling out the dead elfs name. I didn't even have a chance to say or do a single thing to save the elf. I could only sink to my knees by Harry's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Bill, Fleur, Dean, and Luna came over after some time, probably to assess if we were hurt since we weren't moving. 

Harry noticed them and said, "Hermione? Where is she?" 

"Ron's taken her inside. She'll be all right." Bill said softly. He glanced over at me, then back to the dead house elf in Harry's arms. 

Harry looked down at Dobby before pulling the sharp, sleek blade from his chest. He pulled his coat off, covering the small, childlike body with it. 

Bill made a few orders of the others. Dean helped Griphook into the house, Fleur hurrying after them. 

"We can bury him." Bill said gently to Harry. 

"Uh huh." Harry agreed, sounding distant. 

"Just give him a moment." I mumbled, wiping away the tears that were forming in my eyes. I really hated my pregnancy hormones. 

"I want to do it properly." Harry suddenly spoke. His voice was strained, full of pain, sorrow, grief, and guilt. "Not by magic. Have you got a spade?" 

Bill said nothing, only standing to go and retrieve the said spade, before returning to give it to Harry. 

I waited outside with Harry, the pregnancy spell having dropped since I was no longer apparating. I felt rather large as I sat there, on the rock, but I wanted to be here, since I couldn't help. Besides, I was going to have to sit through many more of these, I was going to have to get used to it. 

Eventually, Ron, Dean, and Trang joined us. Trang didn't have Remus in her arms, so I had a based assumption that my son was in the house. 

"How's Hermione?" Harry spoke the first words since Bill had left us alone. 

"Better, Fleur's looking after her." Ron responded, before the two young men simply jumped down into the hole with spades to help Harry finish the grave. Trang meanwhile, sat down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had never met Dobby, but she knew how much the house-elf meant to Harry and me. 

When they were done with the grave, Harry wrapped Dobby up tighter in his jacket, Ron gave him his shoes and socks, while Dean placed a hat on his head. I slowly undid the scarf that was around my neck, handing it to Harry, who helped put it around his  neck. Trang produced gloves, which were placed upon Dobbys' hands. 

"We should close his eyes." Luna said softly. I flinched a little, my back having been towards them. I turned to see that Bill, Fleur, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Trang were all there, Trang holding Remus in her arms. I felt a sudden, unwarranted stab of anger at Ollivander and Griphook. They should've been out here for Dobby's burial. 

Luna knelt down, her fingers moving Dobby's eyelids until they covered his glassy, unseeing eyes. I was suddenly struck funny by the realization that Dobbys' eyes were green. Maybe the universe had something against green eyes and they just all needed to die. 

Harry and Dean climbed out of the grave, looking down at the small body. I wondered if it would feel the same, looking at Dad and Tonks. . .  No they'll be fine. They'll be fine. I tried to convince myself, forcing myself to focus solely on Dobby. I had had a plan and Dobby simply had not worn the shielded clothes I'd created. Dad and Tonks and Severus would be different, I would deal with them directly, not second-hand. 

"I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?" Luna said, and then without waiting for a response, said, "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now." 

"Yeah. . . thanks, Dobby." Ron murmured. 

"Thanks." Dean followed. 

"Good-bye Dobby." Harry said in a tight voice. 

Bill lifted the dirt with his wand, letting it settle into the hole, forming a mound of sorts. 

"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked as the others started to make their way back to the house. 

"Sure." Bill murmured, patting Harry on the shoulder. 

I hesitated, looking down at the rock I had been carving into a headstone with words carved into it. When I had been writing the words on it, they had made sense in my head, painting me a picture of sadness and yet love at the same time. Now, staring at the words, they didn't make any sense: 

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝐸𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎

I scoffed silently to myself and dropped the rock in the dirt, walking past Harry, joining the others in the house, leaving my words to wear away for years to come. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 standing in the foyer of Griphooks bedroom when Harry came up the stairs with Bill, Ron and Hermione. I went to stand aside, but Harry shook his head. "I want your advice in here." 

I glanced over at Hermione, who gave me a small smile.

"In here." Bill said, opening up the door to his and Fleurs' room. It was a beautiful room, with colours that matched the sea and sand outside. I realized now that I had never actually been to the sea, though I had always longed to go. I supposed I could make the most of this visit, though I now wished it was with Severus and Dad as well. 

Hermione took a seat besides the dressing table, Ron sitting on the arm of the chair. Harry moved to the window, turning his back to the beautiful view outside to lean against the sill, his arms across his chest. The familiar flicker of pain in his eyes told me that his scar was hurting again. I'm sure if I had still been wearing our mums' locket, I would've felt the same pain against my chest. 

Bill came into the room with Griphook in his arms, gently putting him down on the bed and Bill left without another word. Now that Griphook was in the room, I decided to sit on the loveseat, the babies in my stomach kicking hard now. I put a hand against my stomach, rubbing it gently, hoping it would soothe them. 

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed. How are your legs?" Harry asked. 

"Painful. But mending." 

I looked at the Gryffindor sword that the goblin held in his hands, clutching it with reluctance, as though he already knew what we were asking for, though I knew that wasn't the case. 

"You probably don't remember-" Harry started, but Griphook interrupted. 

"-that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts? I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous." There was a long silence, where the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. I knew who won when Griphook continued, "You buried the elf. I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door." 

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I wouldn't regret. I wouldn't even have to feel that I needed to berate him for not showing up to the funeral if I had just been able to save Dobbys' life. 

"Yes." 

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." 

Harry rubbed his scar as he questioned, "In what way?"

"You dug the grave." 

"So?" 

Griphook didn't answer, so I did. 

"Certain ah, species don't expect Wizards to take the time for a proper burial for those we are supposed to see as 'below us.'" 

Griphook gave me a look that said he didn't like my way of explaining it, but it had been the nicest way of putting it that I had been able to see. 

"Griphoook, I need to ask-" 

"You also rescued a goblin." 

"What?" 

"You brought me here. Saved me." 

"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" I heard the impatience in Harry's voice. 

"No, Harry Potter, but you are a very odd wizard." 

"Right. Well I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault." 

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry like he had gone mad, while Harry's eyes flickered just a bit. I hoped he wasn't in too much pain, but that was a big hope. 

"Harry-" Hermione started, but was interrupted immediately by the goblin. 

"Break into a Gringotts vault? Impossible." 

"No, it isn't. It's been done." Ron quickly backed Harry up. 

"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." There had to be some sort of poetic justice to that. 

"The vault in question was empty at the time." The goblin snapped, clearly offended. "Its protection was minimal." 

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful. It belongs to the Lestranges." 

If Hermione and Ron hadn't been looking at him like he had a screw loose before, they most certainly were now, as they exchanged a glance. 

"You have no chance. No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours-" 

"Thief, you have been warned, beware- yeah I know, I remember," Harry interrupted "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?" 

"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers." 

"Wand-carriers." Harry repeated. 

"The right to carry a wand, has long been contested between wizards and goblins." 

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands." Ron replied. 

"That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!" 

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either, you won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never-" 

"It doesn't matter. This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature-

Griphooks laugh made the hairs on my arms stand up. "But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?" 

"We do! We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!" 

I felt uncomfortable with both her words and the way she sat up straight, her eyes bright and passionate. I physically cringed where I sat, feeling weird about it. 

"Don't call yourself-" 

"Why shouldn't I? Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys'!" 

I thought for effect she might pull her robe arm up, to show where Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. Considering that would've had greater effect to punctuate her words. Instead, she simply showed the thin line across her neck, not to deep, and already healed into a scab. 

And don't get me wrong, I'm sure that hurt like a bitch. But I feel that the dramatic effect would've been a lot better. 

"Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?" Ron fidgeted and I rolled my eyes. "You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!" 

True. I definitely wanted revenge for my parents and for ripping my entire family apart. 

"What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside of it is a fake. This is the real one. I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there." 

"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault is it? Perhaps you've seen the other things in there?" 

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers." 

He stroked the sword as he spoke, his beady black eyes darting between the four of us. 

"So young, to be fighting so many." 

"Will you help us?" Harry asked. I could hear a baby start to cry downstairs and knew that I needed to depart. "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblins' help. You're our one chance." 

"I shall. . . think about it." Griphook said. 

"But-" 

"Thank you." Harry said softly. 

"I think, that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me. . ." 

"Yeah, of course." Harry said, leaning forward and taking the sword of Gryffindor from where Griphook had laid it down. The four of us left the room, my skin prickling as I turned my back to the goblin. 

"Little git, he's enjoying keep us hanging." 

"Harry, are you saying what I think you're saying?" The crying grew louder. "Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault?" 

"Yes. Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about." 

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?" Ron asked. 

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts. He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him." 

He rubbed his scar. Trang came up the stairs, carrying Remus, who had stopped crying so loudly, but still whimpering slightly. 

"I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me. . . except for Hogwarts." 

"You really understand him." Ron said after a moment, as I took Remus into my arms. I bounced him just a little, before looking up. 

"Well, and also Bellatrix and him had a daughter together." I said nonchalantly, without thinking really. 

"He what?" Ron exclaimed vehemently and Trang choked out. 

"I thought it was obvious." I said, then cooed to Remus, "Let's go down and play with toys." I turned and walked back down the stairs, Trang tailing me closely. 

"What was that all about?" Trang asked. I explained the conversation to Trang as we made our way to the living room, before turning to other conversation as Bill came into the room. 

"I suppose you can't tell me what you're doing here either?" Bill asked. 

"Oh, actually, it's quite simple. You-Know-Who was going to be where Trang and I have been hiding out. We left hours prior to that visit, and I figured here was a good place. Sorry for the intrusion." I explained quickly, putting Remus down on the floor now that he'd stopped crying. I had brought a few of his favorite toys with us, and I put them down next to him now, which he immediately picked up and started to play with. 

"It's alright, I'm just glad you guys are safe." Bill said, still surveying me as I gingerly sat down on the couch, putting a hand over my stomach. "Er- Snape?" 

"Oh, uh yeah." I mumbled quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Twins, possibly." 

It was silent for a moment and then Bill said. "I get it. I mean, not Snape, hearsay, but uh, the love part. . . it's hard to stop loving someone who already had your heart." 

"Yeah, it is." I murmured. 

"Your rooms are upstairs." Bill said. "We put you and Trang in with Hermione." 

"Thank you, Bill." I said softly. "We appreciate it." 

Bill nodded and then continued on his way. 

"So what's the plan?" Trang asked lightly. 

"We pretend we're on vacation. Spend our days down at the beach, help cook and clean so we're not overbearing guests, and then a week before Harry and the others leave for Gringotts, we'll leave for Hogwarts. The future there is a little fuzzy admittedly, but it seems like a sound plan." 

"Understood. I'm going to go lay down, I'm pretty tired." Trang said softly, standing up. She squeezed my shoulder and headed upstairs. 

I continued to sit in the living room, lost in thought, until Harry strode out of the house, Hermione and Ron tailing after him. 

Flashes of visions played in my head. Severus was bustling down the steps of Hogwarts. . . meeting with Voldemort. . .Severus headed back up the stairs after Voldemort instructed him to do so. Severus would attempt to look out the window, see what the Dark Lord was doing, but he could not see him. . . he had casted a Disillusionment charm. And Harry was telling Ron and Hermione the same things I was seeing. Ron was bemoaning the fact that they hadn't gone after the wand. 

But everything would work out somehow. I could see the vague image of a person finishing Voldemort inside Hogwarts. Which would most likely take place in June although I didn't know the exact date. It could even possibly be late May. I was only predicting June since all of our other escapades had happened in the last month of school. 

I stood, gripping the couch arm as I felt the dizziness of doing so. Black dots danced across my vision and I waited until they were gone to move again. I made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Trang was fast asleep and I saw that Bill had fashioned a makeshift crib in the corner for Remus. I laid my son down in the crib, putting the small blanket over him, tucking his favorite stuffed animal in with him. 

"Goodnight sweetheart." I murmured, before climbing into the bed closest to him. 

I fell asleep quickly, big green eyes imprinted against my eyelids and Dobby's voice echoing in my ears. 

⬅️➡️

[jenjensd]

Just so people know, if anyone has Xbox Game Pass or purchased Power Wash Simulator and enjoyed it, please know pieces of video game history are on there now. Jobs from Lara Croft and Midgar (FFVII) have multiple free downloadable levels with little lore bits in the messages and it’s really fun okay?

[neriyon]

The Sword dedicated to You ♪

Bonus screens: softest boi and a fullbody shot

A friend mentioned Hawu'li would make a great idol and now the thought lives rent free in my head.

[obeetlebeetle]

#fun fact: I can put all their weapons in a display case because every single cavalier is dead (via @bugcowboyart)

Blades of the Cavalier Primaries Displayed for your Appreciation

In house order from top to bottom. I’d be happy to explain the choices if anyone is interested!

[mobagewithweapons]

mito hanyuda is wielding a sword!

[sermna]

"My name is Cytherea the First," she said. "Lyctor of the Great Ressurection, the seventh saint to serve the King Undying. I am a necromancer and I am a cavalier. I am the vengeance of the ten billion. I have come back home to kill the Emperor and burn his Houses. And Gideon the Ninth..." She walked toward Gideon, and she raised her sword. She smiled. "This begins with you."

I did my best and that's what matters here folks

[nonasuch]

Miss Universe National Costume 2024, Part 2!

Splitting this off into a new post so I'm not clogging up everyone's dash quite as much.

Miss Malta is some sort of environmental protection Sailor Scout. I think the giant bow would look better on the back of the skirt but otherwise this is solid.

It has just come to my attention that I skipped over Miss Albania and several other A/B countries, back at the beginning. I sincerely apologize! She went to all this trouble putting together a Fifth Element cruise ship passenger costume, and I nearly missed it.

Miss Armenia, in what even I have to admit would be a legit Princess Leia fit.

Miss Bahrain, adding some green to her Gold And Vaguely Historical look, along with what is either a comically large prop chalice or an upside-down lamp.

Miss Bangladesh appears to believe that adding two plush tigers from the toy store around the corner from the pageant venue will conceal the fact that she is just wearing a tiger-print evening dress. Miss Bangladesh is incorrect.

Miss Belgium. Girl. No.

Miss Belize let the seventh-grade art class do her whole costume, which was a bold choice.

Okay, I think that's everyone I missed! Back to alphabetical order. And I should have to rely less on shitty screenshots, now. Some countries were benefiting from the low resolution, tbh.

Kind of feel like Miss Maldives had a luggage mishap and she's just wearing the outfit she packed for a slightly dressy dinner.

Miss Martinique's costume would honestly have looked better in the shitty screencap version. The construction is... bad. It's bad.

Feel like we're in a little bit of slump here. Miss Mauritius did not stick enough butterfly appliqués to her gown to conceal that it is, in fact, just a regular evening gown.

Slump officially over! We are so back. Everyone say thank you, Miss Mexico.

I would like this better if it had just committed to the giant skirt and not felt the need to make it a Sexy Miniskirt look. Sorry, Miss Moldova.

Miss Mongolia wanted to stand out from all the other gold armor on stage, so she decided to a) wear cooler armor and b) bring a bow and arrow instead of a sword. Great work, Miss Mongolia.

Starting to feel like I'm picking on the smaller countries that probably don't have a huge pageant culture or the budget for really elaborate costumes, but on the other hand Miss Montenegro's costume is super low-effort AND the fabrics look cheap, so what am I supposed to do?

Okay, this looks like a pretty standard Miss Universe Sexy Bird, yes? Well, THIS is how Miss Myanmar entered the stage:

She had to fight her way out of that thing! God only knows what the visibility was like in there.

I think the hat is doing most of the heavy lifting to keep Miss Namibia's costume from being Just An Evening Dress, sadly.

Oh, yikes. It's more obvious in motion but Miss Nepal's bodice looks like it's made of craft foam and it fits real weird. The rest of it looks a little like she got together with Miss Cyprus and a pile of tablecloths for a sewing bee last night, I'm sorry to say.

Miss Netherlands has chosen a Tribute to Delft. I think if I were in charge of this costume I would do a much fuller skirt that falls from the waist, instead of the weird trumpet-skirt-with-hoop we've got here. And, obviously, I would make the windmill on the bodice actually spin.

It looks like she's having some issues keeping the wings and peplum in place, but I really like Miss New Zealand's costume from a design perspective. It at least slightly resembles the bird it's supposed to be (New Zealand fantail) and I think the feather pattern is meant to be in a Maori art style.

Miss Nicaragua is a Sexy Cathedral, which I think might be a Miss Universe first and is definitely a big old step closer to drag.

Okay, pausing here to get the next batch ready.

[evilasiangenius]

The First Meeting

Dark copper hair gleamed in the sunlight as the angel looked out over the wall, down at the vast desert below, brilliant white wings tilted in counterbalance as the angel peered over the edge.

The angel didn’t initially notice that from behind him came the slithering and squirming of tentacles as a creature made it up and over the mighty wall, suckers propelling the great mass of the beast forward. But the angel did notice once it was upon the wall and the octopus’ skin flexed through a multitude of shimmering colors as it stood on a pair of legs, becoming an angel. A fallen angel, with striking pale hair in sharp contrast to the black feathered wings that unfurled behind him.

“Wait, aren’t you…?” Intimidated, the angel backed up as the Fallen strode forward in in his black robes lined with dark blue, the gleaming silver embroidery of the border reflecting all the colors of Creation. Upon his head he wore a twisted crown of black meteoric iron, in the shape of tangled tentacles.

The angel stared at the Fallen’s robe; it was the blue of the deep sea or perhaps the blue of the deep heavens, and something about that sent a shiver through the new corporeal form that the angel had been melded into.

“A Prince of Hell?” The Fallen looked amused. As he spoke his skin slowly pulsed through a multitude of colors; amber, obsidian, copper... “Yes, of course. Aziraphale, Seventh Prince of Hell. Lord of the Octopuses, Member of the Dark Council. A Lord of Hell. And you are?” With each word, Aziraphale slowly strode forward, his blue eyes fixed on the angel who retreated at the demon’s advance.

“Oh damn, a Prince of Hell. This wasn’t in the training.” The angel’s hands clapped over a rebellious mouth.

Aziraphale’s lips moved into a broad smile as he chuckled. “That’s what I am. Tell me, who are you?”

“Crowley. An angel. A Servant of the Lord God. Angel of the Ninth Choir of the Malachim. Third from the last row, five over from the end, you can’t miss me, I’m the tallest one in that row. Usually sing the middle voice so it’s really just the same note over and over most of the time-”

“You weren’t doing your job, were you? I hear there’s a big fuss going on about the humans getting kicked out of the Garden. Really, what a thing to do for a first offense, seems awfully unfair to me.”

“I, I don’t know? I wasn’t on duty then, I was just put on duty now and-”

“So where's that sword of yours? Didn’t they issue you a sword? I’ve seen them before, big flaming buggers, ready to smite?”

“I...I, well, uh, I was never issued a sword? I’m just a low-ranking angel, standing in for someone more important.” Crowley’s mouth moved into a nervous smile, and the angel slowly began to inch away from the Prince of Hell.

“Oh? No sword?” Aziraphale brightened.

“...no sword,” Crowley drooped.

“Excellent.”

As the angel backed away from the Prince of Hell, Aziraphale stretched out a black-feathered wing as Crowley nearly stepped off the end of the wall, gently nudging the angel back to safety.

Startled, Crowley nearly tipped over again, but once more Aziraphale righted him.

“Tricky thing, this gravity business,” Aziraphale said gently. “You’ll have to be more careful; you can hit terminal velocity rather quickly if your wings aren’t ready to fly.”

“Yes, tha-”

“No, no need to thank me. Best not. Even a Prince of Hell could get into a spot of trouble were one caught saving angels. Let’s just keep this between you and me,” Aziraphale winked.

Crowley felt hot and cold all of a sudden, both at once, realizing what had happened. Had a discorporation happened so soon, so quickly after being issued a corporeal form, it would have been a major disciplinary breach and the thought of what consequences would have come down in head office sent a shiver through the angel. But perhaps discorporation would have been preferred; everything was so much worse than the angel could have imagined now that Crowley was in a bind, doubly indebted to a Lord of Hell within minutes of being assigned to Earth.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Crowley.”

“Sure thing,” Crowley said politely. “It’s nice to meet you too, Lord Azir- uh, or is it Prince, erm-”

“Let’s dispense with the formalities. Just as I’ll call you Crowley, you may call me Aziraphale.”

“All right.” A hint of a nervous smile touched Crowley’s lips.

“Oh how lovely,” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley.

“Gkh?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale’s eyes lingered on the angel before turning to look up to the iron gray sky. “It’s starting to rain.”

As the Prince of Hell stretched out his arms to welcome the falling water, he stretched out a black-feathered wing to shelter the shivering angel from the coming storm.

x