#fashion kindred spirit

[celestialmazer]

Harvey Guillén Brings His “Big and Short” Bombshell Style to the Red Carpet

The ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ actor may only have just recently courted attention for a hot run of looks (the Met Gala, the Oscars), but he’s always been a clothes horse: “I’m like Ariana Grande: I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it.”

BY MIKEY O'CONNELL JUNE 17, 2023 10:00AM

Source: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/lifestyle/style/harvey-guillen-red-carpet-style-1235514713/

Harvey Guillén was photographed June 2 at PMC Studios in Los Angeles. He’s wearing a shirt by Daniel Velasco, who also designed the actor’s tux-inspired 2002 Emmys outfit featuring a sheer, blue pussy-bow shirt. PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

Harvey Guillén always loved to get dressed up. He cannot say the same of shopping. “Going to the mall was so hard,” says the What We Do in the Shadows star. “Somebody made a meme of what it is to be a person of size going shopping with your friends. Everyone else is like, ‘I got this cute outfit, I got this cute top, I got these cute jeans.’ Meanwhile I’m like, ‘I got this cute bracelet.’ “

Some brands and retailers have gotten better at catering to plus-size customers, but the evolution remains slow-going. Fortunately for the 33-year-old queer actor, a real sartorial standout with a string of buzzy 2023 red carpet looks, he’s now courting the attention of major labels, though not all of them are able to deliver. “They love him and want to work with him, but they are working with limited sample sizes and limited resources,” says stylist Michael Fusco. “It’s not a challenge for people to want to work with us, it’s the execution part.”

Christian Siriano is one who’s handled the execution. In March, Guillén became the first man to don a plus-size look from the designer at the Academy Awards. The pair collaborated again on a pink tweed suit for the Met Gala, a sly “fuck you” to event inspiration (and well-documented sizeist) Karl Lagerfeld. “Christian just knows how to make Harvey look great and elongate his lines,” adds Fusco. “It’s just magic.”

Even without Siriano on speed dial, Guillén is prepared for his increasingly public life thanks to a not-insignificant collection of clothing — his L.A. home boasts two full walk-in closets and four racks for overflow. A few of those looks will no doubt be sported on the Orange County native’s near-endless promotional circuit for Shadows (season five premieres July 13 on FX), DC feature Blue Beetle (in theaters Aug. 18) and a deep slate that includes recently announced New Line thriller Companion, among many other projects on deck.

You’ve had a lot of major red carpet moments this year. Is there a look you’d consider a favorite?

This year has just been back-to-back-to-back. The Oscars started that. We made so many best-dressed lists. Christian had designed for Billy Porter before, but never has he designed for a plus-size guy — so it was nice to collaborate with him on something that was new and had never been done before. The Met Gala was great. They were obviously honoring Karl Lagerfeld, but you also have to represent yourself. So I wore pink. Karl was known for not liking pink. I like loads of things that he didn’t approve of.

PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

How would you describe your first experience at the Met Gala?

I got to walk the carpet before I hosted the night for E! I’d never really put on that hat before. Maybe next time I’ll just go and do the carpet and enjoy the event. It was really cool to watch everyone come in, but it was also very exhausting to be out there in an outfit, all night, talking to people.

Working in even the most basic tuxedo can be exhausting.

Yeah! You’re just wearing Louis Vuittons, and these shoes are meant for being walked on and taking pictures — not running up the hill for hours and hours on end. I can’t even imagine it wearing heels. There’s no way I could do that for eight hours.

I’ve seen you at a couple of events wearing semi-sheer tops. Even with fashion’s easing of older gender norms, that takes confidence. Were you always so adventurous, or is this a recent development?

I’ve always been one to take risks; I just never had the opportunity to do so. It’s already hard to be confident in your own body, especially in this industry. So, if you’re going to do something, then do it full out. And then there are the people who comment, like, “Oh my God, you’re so confident in that.” Yeah, I want to feel my best in what I’m wearing. Why wouldn’t I wear a sheer top? People are just like, “Wow …” They usually assume that people who are a plus size want to cover up, not show off any skin or curves. I do the opposite. I want to show my curves. I want to show a little peekaboo. The sheer is fun.

Harvey Guillén was photographed June 2 at PMC Studios in Los Angeles. PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

What is your everyday style?

For the day, a T-shirt and jeans will be just fine. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a Christian Siriano gown to pick up bread. But I like to play with old stuff. My place in L.A. has four racks of clothes on top of two walk-in closets that are already full. I’ve collected so many pieces over the years that I’ve probably only ever worn once. I can’t bring myself to get rid of them. I have pieces I haven’t worn that are ready to go for an event. I’m like Ariana Grande: I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it. Because it’s hard to find stuff in your size! So when I find something I like, I don’t double-guess it. In the past, I’d be like, “I’ll get it later.” Then it’s gone!

The clothes that we put off buying haunt us for years.

To this day, there are these shoes that I think about. I was in Germany and thought, “It’s fine, I’m sure I can get them online.” Nope! Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’ll wake up in a cold sweat of regret. “No! The shoes!”

PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

When you’re at the mall, what do you gravitate toward?

When I do a movie or something, the costume designers will call, and it’s always the same conversation: “Where do you shop for your clothes?” Which is so interesting to me because I was like, “Where do you shop for everyone’s clothes?” The difference is they know that question is loaded because a lot of designers or stores only go to a certain size. It isn’t as easy, and then that becomes their struggle. You’d be surprised how many times I’m like, “See, the struggle is real.” I had one costume designer who gave up. They were like, “Can you just bring some of your own clothes?”

Dior’s pre-fall 2023 show in Cairo. COURTESY OF DIOR

If you have the clothes, that means they’re out there.

You can find it! You can find clothes in a size that fits everyone; you have to search. For me, the easy go-to is ASOS. They’re reliable when it comes to a big selection of sizes — and they deliver overnight — so I do ASOS a lot. I remember spending whole afternoons at the mall just looking for clothes. You find something that you like, but then they don’t make sizes past a large or an XL. They don’t think that people who are our size are fashionable. They think you’ll be content shopping at Big & Tall — which is fine if you want to shop there, but it’s very limited. Big & Tall is for someone who’s big and tall. … “tall” being the key word. I’m big and short. There should be a shop called Big & Short. (Laughs.) The average body is not a size zero, so it’s surprising to me how the fashion industry keeps pushing that idea. The average person wants to look fashionable. But that’s aspirational living, right?

“Since he’s become a badass, we tuck his pants into his boots and roll up his sleeves,” Guillén says of his Shadows character. RUSS MARTIN/FX

And, like any other industry, they want to make money. So it doesn’t make sense to ignore such a significant portion of the market.

It’s always surprising when you see, like, “Well, the sales are low this year.” Why? Sales will go through the roof if you just added two more sizes to your collection — or at least another three sizes on top of that. There’s money out there that people want to spend. It’s like in Pretty Woman. I want to walk in like Julia Roberts with a bunch of bags and say, “I came in yesterday, and you didn’t have my size. Big mistake. Huge.” I have money to spend, but you don’t get my money because you didn’t think I was worth making a garment for my body.

“I like playing with the idea of what’s gender-normal or gender-neutral,” says Guillén of his fondness for sheer items, like this Christian Siriano look for Vanity Fair’s 2023 Oscar party. JOHN SHEARER/WIREIMAGE

How would you describe your discussions with the Shadows costume designer about the aesthetic of your character, Guillermo?

Laura Montgomery, who won the Emmy for costume design, is amazing. She and I get together at the beginning of the season. Because we know what the year’s going to be like for the character, we sprinkle in something new. In season one, he’s more buttoned up. He’s almost suffocating in his own clothing. In season two, he relaxes a little bit. He unbuttons the top button. If you look at pictures of every season, he slowly starts to become the version of who he’s supposed to be — to the point where, in season four, he’s wearing Versace. It’s in a non-fashionable way, of course. That’s just what he thinks people with money should look like.

Who are your own style icons?

There are classic icons that never go away — both male and female. Audrey Hepburn is iconic. But I like the new ideas of fashion. When you look at Maluma and Bad Bunny, they’re oozing confidence, right? Maluma, even offstage, looks amazing in the shirt because he’s wearing it in a way that he’s living his best life. And I strive to do that myself. I could wear a potato sack, but I’d wear it with such confidence that people are like, “I want a potato sack.”

Interview edited for length and clarity.

[celestialmazer]

YES

[celestialmazer]

Source: https://kendam.com/news/fashion-shows/rodarte-fall-winter-2023-24-runway

The Rodarte FW23 Runway Show, New York. February 10th, 2023.

"The Rodarte Fall Winter 2023-2024 show took place inside the Williamsburg Savings Bank, where a silver banquet was set up to welcome guests. The collection was inspired by fairies, and the Mulleavy sisters' mother was commissioned to draw the fairies that were used as prints on the clothing. The fairies were depicted in a gothic style, with Siouxsie Sioux-inspired eye makeup and black lipstick.

The collection featured glamorous evening gowns, including languid jersey dresses with bell sleeves that were followed by different versions in burnout velvet with sequins or floral appliques. Black satin bias-cut dresses with 1930s-inspired Victorian details, such as V-shaped lace insets and velvet mutton-sleeve bodies with white lace trim and white lace capelets, were also part of the collection. The designers brought back their signature cobweb knits, made by hand from a collage of materials and textures. The collection also featured bulbous shapes made entirely from metallic fringe, which added an element of whimsy and fantasy to the show.

The Rodarte Fall Winter 2023-2024 collection featured a variety of textures and fabrics, all expertly mixed and matched to create a visually stunning effect. The Mulleavy sisters have always been known for their attention to detail, and this collection was no exception. The use of burnout velvet, shredded cheese cloth, and metallic fringe added depth and dimension to the pieces, while the intricate beading and lace details showcased the designers' expert craftsmanship. Even the cobweb knits, a signature of the Rodarte brand, were made from a collage of materials and textures, adding an otherworldly feel to the collection. Overall, the Rodarte Fall Winter 2023-2024 show was a masterclass in creating a cohesive and visually striking collection, showcasing the Mulleavy sisters' talents as designers."

Show Design, Direction & Production: Bureau Betak Video Production & Art Direction: Bureau Future Runway Video Director: Emily Rosser Lighting Designer: Nick Gray for Renegade

[obstinaterixatrix]

[languid] people sometimes go like ‘wow stella you really understand writing romance’ (deserved) and they wonder where my insight comes from. the answer is simply to understand misery in a relational context.

[bunastudio]

A soothing summer palette with our Chalk Pink Petal Blouse adorned with blooming flowers and the perfectly paired Fellow Traveller Pants https://www.bunastudio.com/products/chalk-pink-petal-blouse

[celestialmazer]

Ripper Street realness

St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Missouri, May 20, 1908

[sailforvalinor]

.

[mintmentos]

Watched dungeon meshi and decided adolin and laios need to meet asap

[celestialmazer]

GORGEOUS, very Les Néréides coded 💗

Necklace of Princess Khenmet, an Ancient Egyptian king’s daughter of the Twelfth Dynasty, around 1800 BC.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Who would / do they believe without question?

Unohana

The Lady Unohana has only ever had the one job.

She's not the only captain that didn't have a different path in life before they became captain- but unlike the Kuchikis and Shihouins, she wasn't raised for the role and promoted because of her blood.

Unohana was promoted directly to Captain because of other people's blood. That she had spilled. Across Several districts. Surely unhinged violence counts as, if not a career, some kind of path? In her case, no. The astonishing carnage was not a path walked, but a trail of destruction carved by her in the midst of a psychotic breakdown.

Unohana had died, badly. She didn't exactly remember her time in the living world when she reincarnated, but it was badly enough that the full traumatic impact hit, and all she remembers was standing out in the middle of nowhere, trying to get her bearings again when a twig snapped and so did she.

Then it was four years later and despite fighting off nearly an entire army, she was in prison, dying of pneumonia, and a man is offering her a job.

She has a general idea of what she's been doing and unlike everyone else she has met since her memory began again, he's impressed with it. Pleased, even- he'd like her to come along with him and do More Of That, to those archers over there.

Yachiru Unohana is fourteen years old and has met a kindred spirit for the first time, and something inside her changes forever. Yamamoto is very nearly one thousand yeard old and has met someone who does not flinch in fear from him, and something inside him changes forever.

They are not, exactly, father and daughter. For one thing, Yamamoto completely fails to realize Unohana is not an adult until several years later when they are celebrating the founding of the Genryusai academy. He offers her a cup of Sake and she tells him she probably isn't old enough to drink yet and he chokes on his own Sake hard enough to force it out of his nose. He thought she was just short! ...But Yamamoto is the first adult that actually given a damn about her, after a fashion. Unohana is the first young thing that he's really been responsible for. Neither of them have families they can use as a frame of reference, so rather than more conventional expressions of affection, they instead stick to the highest possible standards out of respect for the other.

Unohana believes anything Yamamoto tells her without question because he has never, ever, no matter how delicate it was, no matter how bad it made him look, no matter how much it hurt to say- lied to her.

Sometimes she adjusts for "Sensei might be misinformed", but she has never questioned that anything he has told her has so far as he knows been anything other than true because it's been proven over and over and over for the last millennium.

With a track record like that, you'd probably believe him too.

[sansaorgana]

— FOREVER BOUND

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — You and Mairon were created together by Eru and ever since you remained nearly inseparable. He chose to follow Melkor but you stayed loyal to your gods. Even though he was believed to be slain, you meet your soulmate once again many years later in Númenor where you serve the Valar by helping Tar-Míriel with your counsel.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I started writing this fic like two weeks ago but I got distracted in the meantime with different ideas 🤧 (Y/N) is used here as the Reader's "real" name, therefore I gave her human form in Númenor a name and that is Maneth, which apparently means Departed Spirit. The dynamic between Sauron and the Reader is lowkey inspired by that quote from Wuthering Heights – He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Also, I was very fixated on making the short prologue of this fic sound like it was taken from The Silmarillion but it was a challenge, especially when English is not my first language, so yeah, I have to admit I used "the chat" a bit to help me in the beginning (and only there) 🙈. It didn't write even a single sentence for me, though, it only helped me with reshaping the phrases to sound more like the way I wanted them to be. I have never used AI to help me write my fics, so I feel a bit weird with it but I think the prologue sounds great now, so I decided to keep it this way. However, I wanted to admit to it here because I would feel bad otherwise. Once more – "the chat" did not write even a single sentence for me. I only needed its help with finding better sounding phrases to express what I have already written all by myself and it was only for the short prologue of the story. I didn't put any warnings but I think that – if you squint – it can have a bit of a twincest vibe...? 😳 At least I thought so while writing some scenes but maybe it's just my messed up mind going into such places 🙈 The fic is quite long but I didn't want to divide this one into two parts.

WORD COUNT — 7,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FOREVER BOUND

Together were they fashioned by the thought of Eru Ilúvatar, Mairon and (Y/N), kindred spirits among the Maiar, and thus were their fates entwined. Mairon was drawn to Aulë the Smith, whose lore of crafting and forging he learned with eager mind, while (Y/N) was taken under the care of Varda Elentári, the Queen of Stars, and to her was revealed the mysteries of light and the heavens.

In those days of ancient bliss, when the first flowers were made to bloom, Mairon would gather their blossoms for (Y/N), and together they would abide for hours in fields unmarred by shadow. Often, he would craft jewels of wondrous beauty, offering them to her in token of his affection. Yet his most treasured gift to her was a ring, fair and unmarred, crafted in the purity of his early days, before his spirit turned to darker counsel.

It is said that (Y/N) wore that ring ever upon her hand, and that when Varda revealed to her the art of setting stars in the firmament, she bestowed the first star of her own making with the name «Mairon», that his light might endure forever.

In the later days, when Mairon fell to the shadow and allied himself with Melkor, he sought ever to draw (Y/N) to his side, weaving words of guile and repentance. Many times did he deceive her, and she, moved by their bond, hoped he might yet be redeemed. Yet she held fast to the Valar, and her faith remained unbroken.

Mairon's descent brought sorrow unending to (Y/N), and often she pleaded with the Valar to grant him mercy. Yet Varda would have her no longer as a disciple, for the brightness of her spirit had dimmed, and her heart clung still to one who had been corrupted. Then Nienna, She Who Weeps, took pity upon (Y/N) and took her into her care, teaching her of endurance and grief. And it was Nienna who spoke in favour of Mairon when Melkor, feigning humility, sought pardon from the Valar, for she understood well the love that bound (Y/N) to him.

Yet no reunion came to pass, for Mairon fled from the wrath of the Valar, and he vanished into the shadows of the world, so that some claimed him slain. The star that bore his name faded from the heavens, and it is told that (Y/N) wept until her tears filled a lake in The Southlands, and thus was the dark and bitter Lake Núrnen brought into being, a testament to her sorrow.

You were sent to Númenor to aid the Queen Regent with your counsel. Míriel suspected that you were no ordinary human being but she knew better than to ask too many questions. Very quickly you were promoted in her council, which was visibly making Ar-Pharazôn uneasy and suspicious of you because you had shown up out of nowhere one day, posing to be a noble Lady from Middle-earth… but who truly knew where you were coming from? 

The fate of this beautiful island given to the ancestors of these people was uncertain, though. It was teetering between glory and ruin. You were there to make sure they would choose the right path when the time of difficult decisions would come.

When you heard that one of the captains brought a She-Elf to Númenor that he had found in an open sea, you knew immediately that it was no coincidence. It was surely the very beginning of something new. Something exciting and worrying, too.

The time you had already spent in Númenor was enough for you to fall in love with the island and its people. The Queen Regent was truly your friend and you hoped for nothing else but for this realm’s happiness.

You were standing next to Míriel when Captain Elendil walked two castaways inside the hall. She-Elf you recognised immediately because it was Lady Galadriel. She, however, could not recognise you because of your disguise. At the sight of a dirty, ragged common man walking beside her, you felt an odd shiver going down your spine.

You looked down, nervously, when he looked up to meet your gaze. Your fingers busied themselves with a ring that decorated your finger for long centuries now – it would never leave you, no matter what form you were in.

You could not understand why some random human was making you feel such odd sensations as if the air between you two vibrated and caused disruption inside the room.

“No one kneels in Númenor,” the Queen Regent announced to Lady Galadriel and her new friend when they attempted to do so.

Out of curiosity that you seemed not to be able to stop, you looked up again when the man did the same. Your eyes met and you could barely contain yourself because the soul trapped inside the form you were in was about to explode.

He was no ordinary human being and you wondered if Lady Galadriel knew about it.

Who could it be, though? The Valar would not send any help for you here without warning you beforehand. Even if they would, no other Maia was able to make you feel this extraordinary way. 

No other Maia except for one.

The fingers fidgeting with your ring squeezed it tighter at the memory of Mairon. He had been long gone now and all that seemed to be left of him was that ring. Not even his star shone bright in the night sky anymore.

The only part of Mairon that still remained was not that ring, though. It was you – he would forever live inside of you like you had lived inside of him and like part of you had died the day he had been slain.

“Speak, Elf. Name thyself,” Míriel ordered Lady Galadriel and Galadriel’s eyes found yours. She tilted her head but decided not to comment although now you were certain that she could sense what kind of spirit you were.

“Galadriel of the Noldor,” she introduced herself. “Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin. Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad.”

The man she came with looked at her with furrowed brows before deciding to introduce himself as well.

“Halbrand,” he said. “Of The Southlands,” he added.

“A man and an Elf, together?” You asked as you approached the Queen Regent.

“Circumstances arose that–” The man named Halbrand began but Galadriel did not allow him to finish.

“We are companions by chance. Met on the open sea. Your captain here, delivered us from certain death,” she looked at Elendil. “All we ask is that Númenor continue his mercy and grant us ship’s passage to Middle-earth.”

The crowd gathered inside the hall began to chatter between each other. It was uncommon to see an Elf in Númenor these days and Galadriel was far from humble. Her demands were not making anyone here happy and you could sense that.

The only man whose aura you could not sense was him again – the filthy commoner.

Míriel exchanged a meaningful look with Ar-Pharazôn before her cousin spoke.

“It’s been generations since a ship of Númenor was permitted to make such a journey on an Elf’s behalf,” he told the Elf, harshly.

You wondered how Galadriel would accept the fact that here, in Númenor, she was not an authority to anyone and her presence was barely intimidating. You knew her heart was of a pure kind but it was no mystery amongst the Valar, the Maiar and the Elves that she also needed to be humbled very often but such occasions were quite rare.

“It is because of the Elves that you were given this island,” she reminded but such words only worsened her situation. “Surely you can spare a few planks and a rudder.”

Míriel looked behind to stare at your face, visibly searching for your counsel. You shook your head slightly to let her know that you did not think following Galadriel’s orders was a good idea. It did not escape Ar-Pharazôn’s eye as he shot you a deadly glance. He hated the influence you had over his cousin.

“Our ancestors were not given anything,” the Queen Regent smiled softly at Galadriel as she walked down the stairs to approach the Elf and her human companion. “They paid for this isle with the blood of their kin.”

“What the Elf means–” Halbrand tried to save the situation.

“Then if blood be the price of passage, I will pay it,” Galadriel interrupted him again and you sighed softly. “But one way or another, I will depart.”

One of your tasks in Númenor was to help rebuild the friendship between the humans of this island and the Elves. Lady Galadriel was definitely not helping you.

“I welcome you to try,” Míriel nodded.

“I have no need of your welcome,” Galadriel continued with her rude remarks and Halbrand looked at her with panic in his eyes before looking back at the guards by the doors.

“And you are quickly wearing out yours,” the Queen Regent warned Galadriel. “Guards,” she called for them.

“My friends!” Halbrand exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention and you despised it.

You despised it because your weak human form struggled once more to contain your trembling spirit. You were scared that you would be this island’s doom yourself any given moment if you suddenly erupted as if you were a volcano. Your fingers began to tremble and you lowered your gaze, pretending to be humble.

“It seems to me that our leaving presents some complications,” Halbrand pointed out. “Perhaps it’d be better if we stayed–”

“Stayed?!” Galadriel barked at him.

“Long enough, good Queen, to give you and your advisors adequate time to weigh our request,” he looked up at you.

You were holding your gaze lowered but you knew somehow that he was staring at you. You could feel his eyes piercing you through because the way he was staring was not of an ordinary kind. He was not glancing at your flesh but at your soul. You felt as if you were naked in front of him and as if there was nobody else inside this palace except for you two.

The ring around your finger seemed to get heavier all of the sudden as it reminded you one more about the only creature in this world who had known you so well and who could have made you feel similar.

“A few days, perhaps?” Halbrand looked back at Míriel and you sighed out of relief once you got free from his burning gaze.

The Queen Regent looked back at you once more and you looked up only slightly to nod at her. Ar-Pharazôn rolled his eyes but he did not disagree – at least not openly.

“Three days,” he ordered. “And the Elf is to be restricted to palace grounds.”

“I will not be made a prisoner!” Galadriel protested.

“I would sooner knee-cap a stallion than seek to imprison the mighty Commander of the Northern Armies,” Ar-Pharazôn answered ironically and the crowd laughed at her. “So, you shall be Númenor’s guest.”

You could feel the tension in the room slowly relaxing and you nodded at the Queen Regent before walking out in a hurry, feeling Halbrand’s eyes on you as you were walking out in a haste with your skirts gathered in your fists, rushing to your chambers to collect your chaotic thoughts.

You had a malicious feeling creeping up deep inside of you – no, not even a feeling. An odd, eerie certainty. And as much as you wished for it to not be true, you also wanted it to be and you felt guilty for experiencing such cursed yearning to see and touch him again. Your Mairon.

When you heard from your maid at the end of the day that the human named Halbrand ended up in jail already for starting a fight, you simply could not stop yourself from paying him a visit. You walked inside the prison area of the palace carefully as you moved quietly throughout the hall with your dress flowing behind you gently.

The man was sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall. He was smirking as he watched you with no reaction whatsoever. Once more you noticed that you could not sense his aura or predict his mood like you usually could with most creatures, even the noblest of the Elves.

“You are no human,” you stated as you stood right in front of his cell. Halbrand snorted at that and rolled his eyes. “Who are you?” You asked and he only shook his head.

You grabbed the bars and squeezed them tightly as the silence broke due to your ring clashing with the iron. The sound echoed and Halbrand turned his head around rapidly while he squinted his eyes at your ring.

“Are you him?” You asked, nearly desperately. “Are you my Mairon?”

Halbrand stood up finally and even though he seemed to be more serious now, he still had a playful smirk on his lips. He approached you with his arms crossed and you caught yourself staring at his tan, flexed muscles before you looked up to meet his sparkling eyes once more. Nothing but the iron bars between you two and it was you squeezing them tight although he was the imprisoned one.

“You would look like a crazy maniac if I was not,” he whispered, leaning in. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You were supposed to be dead…” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling warm tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed your fists even tighter around the bars as your whole soul vibrated throughout your human form.

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” Halbrand answered.

“Your star has faded away, I have cried so many tears, have been outcast by Varda because with you, some of my own light faded away, too,” you revealed in a trembling voice before opening your hazy and wet eyes. He was staring at you without playfulness now. “I know it would be better for this world if you stayed dead but I feel joy to be with you again,” you confessed.

His rough fingertips brushed the ring wrapped around your finger as he smiled sadly.

“This ring remains older than most creatures of this realm,” he pointed out.

“I have never taken it off, Mairon,” you assured him. “Nothing in this world is older than the bond between us.”

“That is quite blasphemous,” he smirked and you shook your head as you had no idea what to say to that. He was right – you should not claim such things, you were no god. But yet, whatever was between you and him – it felt so overwhelming, so overlooming. 

Your souls were entangled, made of the same stardust. You were the same spirit, the same heart, the same blood; only split in two forms and that was enough pain to be apart in that way. Spending centuries without him at all, thinking he was dead… It was like death itself.

But Mairon was back now and alongside him back was the part of you that had died with him.

“Will you tell them about me, (Y/N)?” He asked, quietly.

“I should, should I not? You are up to no good,” you sniffled your tears back and your eyes met his. You let go of the iron bars and extended your hands to cup his scratched cheeks. When you touched, you felt your whole body trembling, barely able to contain your spirit and your power.

“I am up to the greater good. You know that my path is the right one; it is the only path. My only goal is to heal,” he assured you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon the palm of your hand as you gasped.

“Up to no good then,” you let out a small chuckle through your tears. You knew him enough already to know what it meant.

You wanted to get rid of the iron bars and to kiss him. His form differed from his previous one but it was never about his flesh – it was always about whatever it contained.

You had never really kissed, though. All those centuries you had spent with each other, you had spent it on yearning and gazing at yourselves, stealing soft pecks upon your cheeks or knuckles, giving each other gifts and talking sweet to one another.

Because you knew that the Maiar had not been created to love – not like this, at least. They had not been created to know the pleasures of the flesh or its desires. They had been created to serve the gods.

Perhaps something had gone wrong during the act of your creation. Perhaps it had not – perhaps it was that part of him living inside of you that craved to be close to him at all times just like the part of you living inside of him craved to be close to you.

“Join me, (Y/N), come with me, be my Queen,” Halbrand whispered and you froze, taking your hands away immediately.

“Not even half an hour I was given to enjoy your return for you are trying to deceive me once more,” you remarked, harshly.

He had been known to tease and tempt you countless of times but your soul remained pure no matter what.

“Melkor is no more. I am my own master now but I will never be whole without you by my side,” Halbrand was the one to wrap his hands around the iron bars now as he moved even closer while you took a step back. “Varda outcasted you? I will make sure no one in Middle-earth worships her no more for you will become their Queen of Light.”

“Revenge is not what I seek,” you shook your head. “Please, Mairon, your words are like daggers. I cannot handle them,” you turned your head around as more and more of your tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Refuse me as much as you like, (Y/N). A part of you lives inside of me and that is my lightness. A part of me lives inside of you and it is the part you consider rotten. Be careful, my dear, for the rot likes to spread,” Halbrand warned you although his voice remained sweet.

“I have never considered anything coming from you to be rotten,” you laid your eyes upon him again.

“Can you not see, my sweet? They keep us apart because together we would become so powerful that we could outcast the gods themselves,” Halbrand continued and his whisper caused a shiver to go down your spine. His words were wrong… So wrong. “Together, we could be anything we wanted. We could be forged into one flesh if we wished, forever bound.”

“If you cared so much about us being together, you would let me lure you back into the light instead of trying to tempt me to join you in darkness, Mairon,” you whispered in Quenya.

“It pains me when you keep insisting that my path is the darkness. Your blind obedience to our creators is much darker to me, my love,” he answered.

Perhaps you would go on like that – and knowing you two, you could do that for ages. But you were interrupted by Lady Galadriel, who looked you up and down with curiosity as she entered the prison.

“The most trusted advisor of the Queen Regent,” she greeted you, “but the least trusted one amongst her subjects. You come from Middle-earth, they say. A noble Lady. But I have never heard of you before,” Galadriel pointed out.

“Must Elves know all about human affairs?” You challenged her and she smiled, softly.

“Human? Yes,” Galadriel answered. “There are spirits, however, that remain out of our grasp. They are no gods but nearly like them. Sent to us by the Valar when we need aid,” she squinted her eyes.

“I shall remain out of your grasp then,” you nodded and she nodded back.

“What is going on?” Halbrand whined, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms again. Putting on an act of a common man in front of Galadriel and even though you knew you should scream into her face that he was the very darkness she had sworn to fight and defeat – you chose to stay silent. Perhaps he would redeem himself, perhaps he would realise that he might be given a second chance if only he decided to choose the right path this time.

Perhaps, before outing him to the outside world, you would try to fix his way of perceiving which path was the right one.

And you knew he had been given too many chances already but your heart would never give up on him. You would forever find excuses for him and try to make it right between you two.

“You…” Galadriel approached the iron bars as she smiled softly at Halbrand. “You do not belong on this island.”

“If there’s one of us that doesn’t belong here, Elf, it’s you,” Halbrand shook his head.

“I’m not so sure of that anymore,” Galadriel’s eyes sparkled as she briefly laid them upon you. “But one thing I am now certain. You are more than you claim,” she took a step further. “I found this in the Hall of Lore,” she handed Halbrand a scroll of paper that made you squint your eyes.

He took it, pretending to be unbothered. And when he opened it, you saw a heraldry drawing, suddenly realising he was wearing a pendant with the same mark. What was the game he was playing…?

“That’s funny. I found this on a dead man,” Halbrand winked at you before he looked at Galadriel with a smirk. “Thought the pattern suited me,” he added and sat down on a bench inside his cell.

Galadriel sighed and she glanced at you, as if she was expecting you to help her. You did not move an inch, however.

“Many ages ago, a man bearing that mark united the scattered tribes of the Southlands under one banner,” she told Halbrand. “The very banner that might unite them again today. Against the evil that now seeks to claim their lands. Your lands, Halbrand,” she emphasised and you sucked on the inside of your cheeks after realising what his clever scheme was. “Your people have no King for you are him,” Galadriel kept insisting.

Your Mairon, the great deceiver, knew very well that eagerly agreeing to all of this would not be as powerful as trying to pretend to be uninterested at first. Therefore, he looked away and chuckled.

“That’s an odd thing to say to a man in a cage,” he pointed out. 

“A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common,” Galadriel claimed as she looked at you again. “My Lady, you must tell your Queen the truth.”

“No Elf will tell me what I must or I must not do,” you smirked as you shook your head at how arrogant she was. You had to play your role but even as your Maia self, you wanted to humble her. “I doubt one pendant proves this man’s heritage enough.”

“What about his testimony?” Galadriel was not giving up as she looked at Halbrand again. “The armour that ought to rest upon your shoulders weighs upon your soul, Halbrand.”

Long silence occurred, in which you were able to watch the master of deception performing his craft. The way he kept staring at the drawing, his face full of mixed emotions and confusion, guilt. The way he grabbed the pendant with his hands and brushed it gently with his fingertips. Everyone would believe him.

“Be careful, Elf,” he said eventually. “The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility,” Halbrand stood up to approach the iron bars. “For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth,” he reminded her and you were in awe how he used the bits of dark truth about himself to toy with her and test the waters.

And how oblivious she was, how eager to keep following the scenario she had already prepared for this situation to go with in her head.

“I am not the hero you seek,” Halbrand shook his head.

Indeed, he was not.

“For it was my family that lost the war,” he added.

“And it was mine who started it,” Galadriel insisted. “Ours was no chance meeting,” she pointed out and looked at you again. “No fate, nor destiny, nor any other words men use to speak of the forces they lack the conviction to name. Ours was the work of something greater,” she smiled at you and you forced a smile back.

Was she thinking that it was you who caused this meeting? Gods, if she only knew…

“You must see it,” she looked back at Halbrand.

“All I see is an Elf who won’t put down her sword,” he remarked.

“Come with me to Middle-earth,” she leaned in to be closer to him and you felt an odd sting of pain inside of your heart. Was it jealousy that another woman dared to stand so close to your Mairon…? Most likely. “And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.”

“How?” Halbrand asked, looking at her intensely. “You’re stuck on this island and you’re still short an army,” he smirked.

“That is all about to change,” Galadriel smiled and turned around to walk away.

You glanced at the man one last time before hurrying after her.

“Lady Galadriel!” You called out her name once you were outside the prison.

“My Lady,” she turned around to face you and you nearly bumped into her. “I did not expect to encounter an emissary of the Valar in Númenor, I must admit,” she bowed her head slightly. “How should I address you?”

“Here, in Númenor, you must call me Lady Maneth. In Valinor you would know me as (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and Lady Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly.

“(Y/N)...” She breathed out. “You know more than anyone else how important my task is. We must stop the darkness from spreading,” she pleaded.

“No,” you shook your head. “You must stop pushing this man… Halbrand… Into whatever you are trying to push him into,” you scolded her.

“Do the Valar have different plans for him?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It is not about him,” you winced, not wanting to discuss Mairon any longer with her. “It is about you, Artanis. You are beginning to become the very darkness you swore once to destroy,” you warned her.

“What do you mean?” Galadriel furrowed her brow as she took a step back.

“It is still cheating when one betrays a cheater. It is still a theft when one steals from a thief. And it is still a murder when one kills a murderer. Because it is not the matter of whether one deserves it or not – it is a matter of the act itself being committed. Too many pure and good souls were lost to us, driven by the desire to do justice,” you lectured her and you could feel her anger and frustration rising, however she would never dare to lash out on an emissary of the gods.

“Pretty words, that is all you can offer, meanwhile people are dying,” she spat out.

“Do you truly care about them, Artanis, or is their suffering your excuse to pick up the sword once more?” You asked but she was walking away angrily already and all you could see was her back, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor ahead of you.

You turned around once more and sighed at the doors leading back to the prison. You decided to leave Halbrand alone for the night but you worried about what would happen next. If he was about to choose the wrong path again, you would have to reveal his true self to everyone and interfere with his scheme.

Hope was all you had as you fidgeted with the ring around your finger.

“The visions are back and worse than ever,” Míriel confessed to you. “I suspect that it all has something to do with the Elf,” she added as she was trying to read your face but you made sure not to reveal anything.

“I knew that people of Númenor despised her kin but I underestimated the delicacy of the situation,” you admitted as you moved closer to the Queen Regent. “This is beyond worrying. The future of Númenor depends on your relationship with others. It is no time to make enemies instead of friends,” you warned.

“It would be an easier task to convince them that the Elves are not our enemies if only Lady Galadriel was not so…” the Queen Regent sighed, looking for the right word.

“Insufferable?” You chuckled and she nodded with a smile. “Elves differ from humans. They are not raised to be humble.”

“You know a lot about their kin,” Míriel pointed out, trying to make you confess who you truly were once more. She would never ask openly but sometimes she was teasing you this way.

“There are quite a few in the lands I come from,” you only answered.

“The lands you come from… Are they not The Southlands?” Míriel raised her eyebrows. “Like that human man?”

You took a deep breath in. If only you had known back then that your backstory would cause problems a few years later… But it was too late to change it because it would be highly suspicious.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But he is a commoner. I was a noble,” you added.

You were interrupted by Captain Elendil leading Lady Galadriel to you. She bowed her head slightly and exchanged a meaningful look with you.

“Lady Galadriel wishes for an audience,” Captain Elendil said and the Queen Regent nodded her head.

You stood still because these days she wanted you by her side always, no matter what. You did not even have to ask if you should leave or not.

“What is it?” Míriel asked when Galadriel stood on the other side of the table, facing you. She laid out two scrolls of paper in front of you – one was the same she had shown to Halbrand on the previous day and the other one was much more worn out and dirty.

“I found this in the Hall of Lore,” Galadriel informed the Queen Regent mysteriously and you allowed Míriel to see the items with her own eyes as you kept standing there with your hands clasped behind your back.

“You vex me, Elf,” Míriel looked up at Galadriel. “I welcome you as a guest and you gallop off to our countryside to steal ancient scrolls whilst your Southlander companion assaults our citizenry.”

“He is understandably quick to temper. His people are dying,” Galadriel explained.

“His people?” The Queen Regent asked, surprised.

“I believe the man you hold in your dungeons is no common brawler, but the lost heir in exile to the throne of The Southlands,” she revealed.

Míriel turned around to look at you and you raised your eyebrows slightly. You were not sure what to say to that. Should you help Mairon or interfere with his schemes? The answer was only easy for your mind but your heart wished to never cause him any trouble.

“Lady Maneth comes from The Southlands. She would know about that,” the Queen Regent informed Galadriel and the Elf looked at you, intensely.

“I cannot be sure,” you only said. “That there was a long gone line of Kings, I have known. That there are still their living descendants, I have not been aware of. That is not impossible, though,” you explained.

“His people are scattered. Leaderless,” Galadriel looked back at Míriel. “But with your backing they might unite behind his banner. And fight.”

How oblivious she was. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see floating in the air. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see people follow.

“What do you mean backing?” Míriel asked, taken aback by Galadriel’s proposal.

“Sauron was once your people’s enemy, as much as mine,” Galadriel reminded her and you moved uncomfortably. “I call on you to finish the task left undone.”

You might have hated this name more than he hated it. It brought you nothing but pain when others would address your Mairon this way – The Abhorred.

“I shall go,” you spoke, interrupting the tension between the two women. Míriel looked at you with a slight panic in her eyes because she did not want to be left alone with Galadriel but you simply could not stand being there anymore, hearing her talk about your Mairon. “I shall question that man, Halbrand. Mayhaps I will find out if he truly is what the Elf claims,” you said and Míriel nodded at you although you could sense she still felt uneasy to be left without your counsel.

You walked past Captain Elendil and went to the prison area of the palace like on the night before. Halbrand was sitting on the bench this time, with his back leaning on the iron bars. At the sound of your footsteps, he did not even flinch nor turned his head around. He did not have to. He knew it was you coming.

“Mairon…” You crouched down in front of his cell and wrapped your fingers around the bars. “Do not follow her, resist her temptation. Stay here with me.”

Halbrand turned around slowly with a playful smile on his lips as he looked down at you. You were not on your knees but it still seemed as if you were begging him.

“Stay here with you? Are you not a grand Lady on this island?” He asked.

“I can be anything I want and so can you,” you reminded him, your whisper was nearly inaudible but you did not need to speak your words out loud at all for him to hear them anyway. “We can live a lifetime here and then change our forms once more, start all over again. Over and over for the whole eternity. Far away from the rest. If I am to ever abandon my life alongside the gods, it will not be for your darkness… But it could be for this. For us.”

Halbrand stood up and the distance between you became even bigger now as he kept looking down at you with a hint of adoration mixed with pure contempt. He had to think you were pathetic and some part of him found it adorable but the other part found it embarrassing.

“It does not have to be Númenor,” you added. “We can go anywhere.”

“Let us go to The Southlands then,” Halbrand smirked. “Be the Queen alongside me.”

“You have made your decision then, I see,” you sighed and leaned in to press your forehead to the iron bars. “Will you ever love me enough to choose me over power?”

Halbrand did not like your choice of words as his eyes darkened. He crouched down as well, slowly, in a nearly threatening way. Now you were on his eye level as he looked intensely at you.

“Will you ever love me enough to choose me over your gods?” He asked.

The sound of footsteps made you stand up quickly and fix your dress. Halbrand also moved up and sat down on the bench. It was all done right in time because the guards walked inside the prison, dragging Lady Galadriel behind them. You watched with widened eyes as she was being thrown inside one of the cells.

“Don’t tell me,” Halbrand chuckled at her. “Tavern brawl?”

“Sedition,” she answered and Halbrand laughed as you gave her a scolding look.

When you joined Míriel again, she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, staring outside the window. She turned her head around to smile at you gently and then she went back to staring ahead of her.

“And?” She asked.

“He asked for my hand,” you informed her with a playful smirk and the Queen Regent turned her head around once more to look at you with wide eyes.

“The audacity…” She sighed.

“Why?” You asked her with a soft smile.

“For a commoner to propose such a thing to a Lady like you… Even if it was only to jest–”

“It was not to jest, “you interrupted her. “If he is what Galadriel claims, then he would be my King,” you pointed out and an odd feeling filled your whole body when you called Mairon your King. A malicious one but also honey-like warm; sweetly spreading throughout your body.

“You are above human Kings, are you not, Lady Maneth?” Míriel raised an eyebrow at you. It was the very first time she asked such a thing so openly.

“I cannot answer that, my friend,” you smiled at her mysteriously, “but if he chooses to follow the path Lady Galadriel pushes him onto, I might have to follow him.”

“And abandon Númenor?” The Queen Regent asked. “Abandon me?”

“I am sorry,” you sighed. “Following him might be a task much more important than watching over this island,” you revealed to her.

Even though you were not given direct orders from the gods, it was obvious that watching over Mairon was more important because keeping his schemes under control would only profit in the end for everyone, including the people of Númenor. Míriel could not be told all the details, therefore she would never understand and she would feel abandoned by you. It was the price you had to pay.

It was an excuse, of course. Choosing to follow Mairon to Middle-earth to make sure he would not go back to his evil ways and that he would use the position Galadriel was giving him to do good instead… It was nothing but a noble excuse to simply explain the fact you wanted to follow him.

It was different now, though. It was not one of those times when he had begged you to come with him, straight to Morgoth. No, this time there was a string of hope that he would truly redeem himself. And of course he would have a bigger chance to do so with you by his side.

“It seems so important… Everything happening in Middle-earth. More important than I suspected. But if even you are willing to leave my side to go back there, it means there are things happening there that are much bigger than me,” Míriel said. “I must rethink Lady Galadriel’s words now then,” she informed you and walked past you to walk away. “Just like you must rethink Halbrand’s proposal.”

“Yes, I must,” you nodded at her and looked outside the window yourself. The sun was slowly setting and the view was beautiful – you wished it would forever be like this; so peaceful and calm with pink and orange hues.

Like back in the day when you had been sitting in the flower fields with Mairon, staring at the skies, your bodies filled with no malice – only pure yearning for one another.

The orange skies of the evening sky always reminded you of his ginger hair from back then and how you would brush it with your fingers, staring in awe at how the sunlight seemed to sparkle upon it.

You were standing by the guards’ side as you watched them open Halbrand’s cell. They nodded at him and he nodded back. The guards left you with him alone and an awkward silence occurred between you two.

“There, you have it your way,” you finally said, quietly.

“You must have missed me terribly,” he crossed his arms and chuckled but you did not want to laugh.

Your eyes filled with tears immediately at the mention of all those centuries you had spent thinking he was gone forever. You lifted your wet, glistening eyes to lay them on his and he clenched his jaw as he moved slightly while all playfulness left his expression.

“Do you know why I could not be killed?” Halbrand approached you to cup your chin and you shook your head. “Because of the part of me still living inside of you. As long as you are alive, I cannot be slain,” he explained. “However, the part of you that lives within me had to suffer for all those centuries alongside me and there is not a day passing when I do not regret causing you such pain.”

“Oh, Mairon…” You gasped and threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer and hug him.

However, he had something else on his mind. He blinked slowly a few times and cupped your cheeks now with his rough hands as he leaned in to join your lips together.

For the first time in your immortal life, you finally found out how sweet his lips were. And gods, how good they felt… How right. Your souls intertwined at that moment, every missing piece finding its place as if you were forged into one body.

“Before we were created, we had been a piece of stardust in the abyss and we had been one flesh then, of that I am sure,” Mairon whispered after breaking the kiss. “I should have kissed you much earlier, my love, for I have never felt so whole before.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am glad you are kissing me only now,” you added and he raised an eyebrow at you. “For if you had kissed me like that back in the day, I would have followed you into corruption straight away. I would have worn black armour forged out of iron and I would have become Morgoth’s most zealous Lieutenant by your side – only to feel your lips on mine again,” you confessed.

Just when you finished voicing out your blasphemous feelings, Halbrand’s lips kissed you once more. This time he lowered his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. You felt him smirking when he felt the ring on your finger brushing his skin.

“Let us get married. Straight away,” he breathed out. “You are wearing my ring already. You have worn it for all eternity.”

“It would be only fair if you wore something from me as well. Something to mark you as my own like I am yours,” you pointed out.

“What would it be, my sweet?” Mairon caressed your cheek and you smirked at him a little before you reached out to the back of your neck.

You had prepared your gift for him this very morning when you already knew he would be released. There was a pendant around your neck, hidden under your dress. You took it off now and handed it to him as he slightly moved away at the sight of it.

It was a beautiful pendant surely although you made sure it would not look too feminine, so he would wear it at all times. However, what it contained inside was what truly intimidated him – it was a small portion of your light that you had sacrificed to lock in there. Wearing it could save his soul, of that you were sure. But in his eyes it surely was a form of imprisonment.

“Have you not sacrificed enough of your light for me already?” Mairon asked.

“Never enough. I shall sacrifice as much of it as I can to save you, my love,” you insisted and pushed the necklace into his open hand as you closed it around the pendant.

Mairon forced a smile as he swallowed thickly and opened his hand again to stare at the necklace before slowly putting it around his neck and hiding it under his tunic.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Quenya and you smiled back at him, encouragingly.

It had been ages since you last wore armour. Lately, the Valar had been using you more as a politician than a warrior but you still remembered the wars you had taken part of. Back then you had been on the opposite side of the field from Mairon but now you were by his side, riding your horse next to his as people of Númenor were throwing flowers at you. 

You took a deep breath in when it was time for you to jump off of your mare. What you were about to do would be equal to making a final decision about your fate – leaving Númenor meant forsaking the task that had been given to you by the Valar. However, you wanted to believe that they would value your new task even more; the one you had given to yourself. To watch over Mairon and make sure no one would know him as Sauron ever again.

He helped you to get on the ship and when you held his hand tight and he grinned at you, your heart filled with love and warmth. There was, however, a hint of worry because you knew what a skilled deceiver he could be. 

To become the King and Queen of The Southlands and to erase the darkness from that long-forsaken land was your shared goal now. Or so he had been promising you. To unite the tribes of that realm and to make sure they had a bright future. And once your mortal forms would become old enough, you would abandon or transform them to start a new life somewhere else. To heal more and more lands, more kins. 

You wanted to believe the healing would be done in the right and proper way this time because now he had you by his side.

Your new husband and an old companion smirked at you and squeezed your cheek playfully before turning around to join Captain Elendil to speak to him as the ships sailed out of the harbour. Lady Galadriel stood next to you instead and she glanced at you from the corner of her eye.

“I know it is not my right to ask about the ways of the Valar and the Maiar but why would a spirit like you marry a human and abandon the task originally given to her?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“The road goes ever winding,” you answered her. “Not even the Valar or the Maiar can see all its paths.”

“Your devotion to this cause makes me believe I was right to fight so eagerly for this to happen,” she said and you smiled to yourself. She was so desperate.

“You are right, Artanis. It is not your right to know about the ways of my kind,” you patted her shoulder and gave her a faint smile as she nodded, staring into the horizon.

You looked there, too, but your mind was absent. You were scared and unsure – some part of you nearly wanted to be as blind as Lady Galadriel because she seemed to be so certain and fearless.

You turned around and realised that he was looking at you already. And at that moment, he looked like the Maia he had been created as – so pure with that wide smile and the sun shining behind him, creating a halo around his form. He looked handsome as ever in Númenorian armour, so different from the one he had been wearing as Morgoth’s Lieutenant. 

You gave him a wide smile back, so full of love and devotion. Perhaps his star would begin to shine in the night sky once more.

MASTERLIST

[celestialmazer]

Intrigued by and enjoying the chaotic, unhinged charisma of the sort-of-very-horrible-yet-caring (and wonderfully named) character of Florian Selby.

Rain Dogs - series 1 ep 3 The Small World of Florian Selby

[celestialmazer]

The ✨ vibe ✨ 😘🤌

CHRIS PINE for Esquire Magazine (2023)

[misty-slays-blog]

I have some meta and Sauron psychology I cooked up last night and wrote down.

This idea of Sauron’s “perfect world” and his attachment to key figures like Adar, Celebrimbor, and Galadriel reflects his narcissistic obsession with control, admiration, and possession. In his mind, these people are essential to building his vision of a world that embodies his ideals of order, beauty, and power. In true narcissist fashion, he sees their rejection not as a failure of his vision or his methods, but as their failure to understand or appreciate what he is offering:

Adar as his lieutenant: Adar's refusal to submit to Sauron was surely shocking to him. Sauron must have seen Adar as the perfect lieutenant: someone with a shared dark past, capable of helping him enforce order. When Adar betrayed him, Sauron would have interpreted it as a personal affront, not as a clash of ideology. His need to have Adar by his side wasn't just about utility; it was about validation, 'cause it would have proven that even a former servant of Morgoth could see the brilliance of Sauron’s design. Adar's rebellion challenges Sauron’s perception of his infallibility, making him angrier and more driven to prove that he was right, that Adar made a mistake.

Celebrimbor as his colleague/friend: Sauron clearly admired Celebrimbor’s craft, and he sought to cultivate a partnership. He wanted Celebrimbor to mirror his own love for creation and control through the crafting of the Rings. When Celebrimbor resisted Sauron’s manipulation, it likely baffled Sauron because he saw them as kindred spirits: two craftsmen who could shape the future together. To Sauron, their shared intellect and skill should have been enough to bond them, but when Celebrimbor sees through Sauron’s deception and refuses to join him, Sauron’s reaction was fury masked by a lot of gaslighting. He saw Celebrimbor’s refusal as a betrayal of the very gifts that made him special, leading Sauron to feel that Celebrimbor failed him, not the other way around.

Galadriel as his queen/wife: Galadriel holds the most unique and intimate place in Sauron’s vision. His admiration for her power and beauty drives his obsessive desire to make her his queen. But her rejection cuts the deepest, because it's not just a political or practical refusal, it’s personal. Galadriel represents the one person Sauron views as capable of standing beside him as an equal (or almost-equal) sharing in the rule of his "perfect" world. When she refuses, it shatters his idealized vision of their potential, yet he cannot let go of her. Her refusal challenges his self-image in a way that none of the others can. Sauron’s narcissistic reaction naturally leads him to blame her for not seeing the opportunity he’s offering, fueling his descent into anger and obsession. Her rejection forces him to tighten his grip on control, but his need for her acceptance continues to haunt him.

In all three relationships, Sauron’s possessive attachment reveals a key aspect of his psychology: his need for admiration and validation, not just dominance. He sees these individuals as necessary parts of his design because they reflect parts of himself — craftsmanship, power, leadership, beauty — that he values most. When they reject him, it not only enrages him but also destabilizes his sense of superiority. Narcissists often believe that their vision is the only one that matters, and when others fail to fall in line, it becomes their fault, never his.

This unhinged reaction to rejection also makes him more dangerous, as he becomes willing to destroy what he once admired. It’s not that he wants to, but his need to preserve his self-image and punish those who oppose him drives him to extremes. In Galadriel’s case, this dynamic could become particularly poignant because her rejection is so deeply intertwined with his feelings of love and obsession.

[starmocha]

OK. I THINK I HAVE A NEW IDEA OF HOW SYLUS' MYTH WILL PLAY OUT.

"Amidst the chaos, wings flap and stir up a whirlwind of sand and gravel. On that day, the girl marked for execution unleashed the Fiend from the Abyss."

— Official summary in Where Darkshadows Fall trailer description box

This will be my third theory. Theories 1 & 2 share the same post and are very, very brief, and honestly, not as well-developed.

OK, let's get started <333

For whatever reason, MC is to be executed. I theorize that she hopes to escape her death sentence and she seeks out Sylus, the infamous dragon said to bring about Philos' downfall. Perhaps, she assumes that if she can slay him, she will be pardoned.

However, she is obviously weaker than him. Sylus, as we know him, is a very complex person. Even though he does have an imposing aura, he does not attack without reason, and he also does not attack people weaker than him.

I believe this scene we see in the beginning is MC "training" with Sylus after having been in his company for quite some time. He is not sneering at her foolish attempt to kill him but rather critiquing her mistakes when approaching her prey.

It could also explain 1) she has no weapons, 2) she's alone, 3) she attempts to strangle him bare-handed with one hand (girl pls 🤡), 4) she shows no fear or resistance when captured by Sylus, even as he comments on how easily she can be killed if he applies more pressure to her heart.

Kind of similar to how in Zayne's Snow's Embrace myth, MC was training under Zayne's guidance for quite some time, and he would often give her lessons. I feel like this is a similar situation with Sylus being a mentor of some kind.

(Also, side note: she dresses similar as him??? Feels more draconic fashion than Philos, just saying. She might have been with him for even far longer than a few measly months.)

The mark he gives her could simply be just that. A bruise that serves as a time limit for her to develop her skill and show growth. He wants to see her progress, wants to see her become stronger, so this is could serve as a motivation device for her.

Now unlike with Zayne, Sylus is more upfront about his personal feelings, so we get intimate moments like these, where it leaves little room for doubts about their romance.

We also have a memory (Secret Times, most likely, based on the others' past myth 4-star cards) of Sylus carrying MC in his arms as he flies (🎶 A whole new world~ 🎶)? They're also described as kindred spirits (a term Sylus would later echo in the main story during his first appearance). Shared thoughts and feelings? Perhaps bonding over their status as outcasts?

Now, Sylus seems to be prophesied as bringing about Philos' downfall. Could...MC unwittingly have caused this? Could something have happened that led to Sylus going berserk and decimating Philos?

I believe a "betrayal" (or assumed one, believed by Sylus) may have happened that led to their tragedy. I'm leaning more towards a tragic misunderstanding. I'll make a part 2 since I'm at my 10-pic cap on mobile 😔

[aventurineswife]

I would like to ask which of the HSR characters would be their favorite type of Goth Girl and how they interact with the goth girl reader.

HSR characters and their favourite type of Goth Girl

Hmm, that's a good question! I'm not very familiar with fashion, so I had to look up the different subtypes(?) and styles of Gothic fashion. Here’s what I came up with, but keep in mind—this is just my opinion on these specific characters!

Blade – Traditional or Occult Goth

Blade would gravitate towards a goth style that embodies the Traditional or Occult Goth aesthetic—dark, intense, and reminiscent of ancient mysteries. This style complements his own fractured soul and aligns with his sense of danger and fatalism.

Blade would admire her goth style in a quiet, intense way. He’d likely avoid compliments, but his lingering gaze would speak volumes. Occasionally, he’d make cryptic remarks about her choice of symbols or accessories, intrigued by the darker meaning behind her look.

He’d invite her on nighttime walks, where they could talk about life, pain, and purpose. Blade would share his own views on suffering and self-destruction, finding solace in knowing that someone understands the allure of darkness without flinching.

When she shares her own struggles, Blade would respond with empathy, quietly urging her to embrace her scars. He’d consider her as a kindred spirit, united by a mutual understanding of darkness, perhaps even guiding her towards finding strength in their pain.

Kafka – Elegant or Victorian Goth

Kafka would be enchanted by an Elegant or Victorian Goth style, one that exudes mystery, timeless beauty, and a touch of refined danger. A style that combines old-world charm with darker, alluring elements would captivate her attention.

Kafka would treat her as her accomplice, matching her elegance with her own polished look. She’d appreciate her ability to blend dark, regal sophistication with subtle danger and would often compliment her in her composed, low-key way.

She would revel in their shared love for all things dark and alluring, occasionally teasing her with whispered secrets and mysterious invitations, making her feel like part of an exclusive, hidden world.

Whenever the reader/she reveals a darker or emotional side, Kafka would listen intently, then offer her hypnotic words of wisdom, nudging her towards a balanced yet sophisticated approach to their emotions. She’d subtly manipulate her into embracing her elegance as armor.

Sunday – Dreamy or Romantic Goth

Sunday would be drawn to a goth style that embodies a sense of ethereal beauty and dreamy mystique, like a Romantic or Dreamy Goth. This aesthetic, filled with delicate lace, ethereal black layers, celestial accessories.

Sunday would admire her goth look as if she's an angel of the night, often complimenting the dark beauty she bring to his Sweetdream Paradise. With poetic and enigmatic language, he'd express how she reminds him of a serene vision, free from the pain of the waking world.

Behind closed doors, he’d reveal a gentler, protective side, seeing her as someone worth preserving in his dream-like world. He’d subtly ask her about her philosophy on life and pain, curious if she'd share his perspective on a reality without suffering.

Whenever she displays a darker or more melancholic side, Sunday would be there to “soothe” her spirit, gently guiding her towards his paradise—although this “soothing” might actually involve urging her to escape painful thoughts.

Robin – Ethereal or Pastel Goth

Robin would admire an Ethereal or Pastel Goth style, with softer tones like lavender and violet combined with traditional goth elements. This blend of gentleness and depth aligns with her own music and tragic past, which holds an undercurrent of beauty amidst sorrow.

Robin would feel a comforting connection with the reader’s look, as it aligns with her own aesthetic of blending light and dark. She’d often give small, heartfelt compliments, noting how her style reminds her of a bittersweet melody.

She’d enjoy quiet moments with the reader, perhaps inviting her to her studio, where they’d share their thoughts on beauty, darkness, and the ways they each express their emotions. Robin might even dedicate a song to her, inspired by her unique blend of innocence and mystery.

When the reader is feeling down, Robin would offer soft-spoken support, listening patiently and reminding her of the beauty in every emotion, treating her struggles like notes in a beautiful song that deserve to be heard.

Aventurine – Cyber or Industrial Goth

Aventurine would appreciate a goth style that leans into cyber or industrial aesthetics—think metal accessories, bold colors, and futuristic touches. This type of goth aligns with his strategic mind and love for taking calculated risks, mixing sophistication with an edge.

Aventurine would be fascinated by her bold look, often pulling her aside to compliment her style in a playful, flirtatious way. He’d likely buy her accessories, such as metallic chokers or bracelets, to enhance her look and treat her style as another high-stakes investment, always encouraging her to be bold.

With his knack for creating excitement, Aventurine would take her to the casinos or exclusive places where they could revel in the aesthetic together. He’d suggest that every encounter and style choice is part of a larger game, creating an atmosphere of thrill and risk, which he finds irresistible.

When the reader shares her darker feelings or thoughts, he’d humorously encourage her to “double down” on it, teaching her to gamble with her emotions, to transform them into something powerful and alluring.

I hope you like it! I tried my best, and it was challenging to decide styles (and writing for a female reader as I'm used to writing for gender neutral) and all, so I really hope you enjoy it 🫶❤️‍🩹