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I love everything about this video. Ben Walker explaining how to pronounce "Gil Galad". Charles Edwards quoting the Ring poem in Black Speech. Lloyd Owen softly saying Namarie and Ben "It's sexy and it gives me the chills!"
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Considering this is my first time writing one of these, I’m starting with a small batch of characters and who better than the elves of TROP? But I’m very much open to writing for different characters within Tolkien’s world and, of course, from TROP! Actually anyone who walked on Middle-Earth. The Valar? Sure, why not!
■ Calculated, laced with challenge, and guarded vulnerability. Galadriel flirts like one might wield a blade. Testing for weakness, dancing just close enough to wound or woo.
■ She stands tall, unyielding, but when intrigued, her eyes betray her. They soften not with warmth, but with recognition. You’ve caught her interest, and now she watches you like a predator circling its prey… or a queen considering a subject for her court.
■ Cool and clipped, but with sudden flashes of dry wit. She’ll challenge your intelligence with a single eyebrow raise or a quip like, “Is that truly your best argument?”
■ She rarely touches. If she does, it’s fleeting: a brush of fingers as she hands you a blade, the press of her palm against your chest to stop you in training. These touches linger in your mind far longer than in hers — at least, that’s what she pretends.
■ She will only allow flirtation if she senses you're her equal. She doesn't seek comfort — she seeks conviction, someone who might dare to stand beside her, not behind.
■ When she finally lets her voice drop — lower, more intimate — you’ll hear it for what it is: a fortress opening its gates an inch. “You… surprise me.”
⇢ ˗ˏˋElrond
■ Quiet reverence, layered in intellect and gentle affection. Elrond flirts the way rivers carve stone: slowly, patiently, but with undeniable effect.
■ He tilts his head when you speak, eyes gleaming with attention. His hands fidget when he’s nervous: tugging at sleeves, smoothing scrolls, brushing imaginary dust from books.
■ Soft, warm, laced with dry humor and the kind of intelligence that flatters without boasting. “You know… I find myself quoting you more than I’d like to admit.”
■ He always makes space for you in a crowded room. He’ll guide you gently by the elbow, offer his cloak before you ask, and pour your tea while distractedly scribbling notes about the way your eyes reflect starlight.
■ Elrond doesn't flirt for pleasure, he does so instinctively, seeking connection. He wants to understand you completely. Every word, every silence, every unfinished sentence.
■ He’ll give you something irreplaceable — a poem from his youth, a story no one else has heard — and say, almost shyly, “I’ve kept this… waiting for the right person.”
⇢ ˗ˏˋGil-Galad
■ Subtle and perfectly timed. His words are carefully measured, but his presence says everything. He flirts with restraint and watches to see if you notice the moment it cracks.
■ He never approaches too directly. He waits until your eyes meet across a corridor or hall — then inclines his head, ever so slightly. If he steps closer, it’s intentional.
■ Regal, eloquent, slow. He crafts compliments like wine — rich, refined, and meant to linger. “You wear the dusk well. It favors your kind of quiet fire.”
■ He never touches first. But if you brush against him, his response is deliberate. A slow turn of the hand to catch yours, a thumb brushed across your knuckles as if in contemplation.
■ Gil-galad has learned to love without showing it, to yearn without leaning. His flirtation is a series of calculated risks; each word carries weight. Each glance is a signal, a lock awaiting a key.
■ When he speaks plainly for the first time without titles, without strategy, it will shake you. “I have led armies. Held kingdoms. And yet… I find myself wondering what you think of me.”
⇢ ˗ˏˋArondir
■ Quiet, present, and deeply emotional. Arondir doesn’t flirt with words — he flirts with devotion.
■ He always notices your discomfort before you speak it. He will reposition a chair so the sun doesn’t blind you. He will step between you and danger without thinking. And he will never mention it.
■ Rarely speaks without meaning. When he says something personal, it feels like the world has paused to hear it. “You are… unlike any path I’ve walked.”
■ Carves small tokens for you. A leaf from a tree that only blooms once a year, your name etched in Quenya on smooth wood. He leaves them without ceremony, then pretends not to notice when you find them.
■ His love is not showy, but it’s constant. He’ll watch you with the kind of gaze that says, I would wait an Age for you. And mean it.
■ The moment he finally touches your cheek, eyes locked with yours, is the moment he’s decided — silently, permanently — that he is yours.
⇢ ˗ˏˋCelebrimbor
■ Excitable, intense, and terribly earnest. He flirts by accident… and then makes it worse by being too sincere.
■ Hair tousled from long nights in the forge, hands stained from work, he runs fingers through his hair when nervous. His eyes light up around you and he doesn’t hide it.
■ Fast-paced, bright, layered with admiration. He’s always a little breathless around you, like you’ve thrown off his rhythm. “Wait, wait, you don’t think this is brilliant? Look - look at this, tell me that curve isn’t perfect. I based it on your — well. Never mind.”
■ Constantly gives you things: a chain he meant to throw away but thought looked “nice,” a ring he insists is “just practice,” or a sketch he swears wasn’t you (it was).
■ He falls fast, and deep. But his fear of being used makes him hesitant to admit it. So he’ll bury affection in gifts, conversation, and genius-level distractions.
■ He’ll give you something unfinished and whisper, “I want you to be the first to see it… even before it’s perfect.”
I’ve turned a blind eye for a long time. I served your father, but now I see where this country is headed. Collapse. And I won’t walk that path any longer.
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Hi guys, been a while I know 🥲 but here is the next chapter 👀
Warning (will be for the whole story!): fight scenes, smut, torture, unprotected sex, fluff, jealousy, graphic description of violence, possessive behavior, Dark!Rayner (might add some more later)
Rating: 16 (might go up in a few chapters, but it‘ll be posted at the beginning of each)
Characters: Michael Burnham, Rayner, Tahal, Breen, Tilly and many more will follow
Chapters: 2/?
Summary: Michael is thrown into a world of chaos and survival of the fittest and finds someone who she thought lost, but he is not the same...
That was one of the first things Michael noticed as she slowly regained consciousness.
Dusty. Hot. Dry.
She was somewhere on a planet, in the middle of nowhere. Without the right equipment, which she would have had on the Discovery or anywhere else, she wouldn't be able to determine exactly where she had landed.
The planet's sun beat down onto the ground of the planet. Even though Michael didn't want to look up, perhaps she could make out something in the sky. Another second planet, which turned out to be a second moon. But all there was, was a bright, white, and hot point staring down at her.
Around her were rock formations that reminded her of home, back when she had been a child living with her parents. Back then, she had gone with them to the Grand Canyons. It had only been an expedition by her parents to leam more about these rock formations, but for her, it had been the greatest adventure.
Michael swallowed hard.
The heat was already causing her problems. It was as if she were walking through a vulcano, it was so hot. She tried to shade her eyes with one hand so she could look for a good spot to find some shelter from the heat.
But she found nothing.
So she started walking, hoping she could still find something.
But even after what felt like hours of walking across the planet's scorching plains, without a sip of water, her legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed.
Michael just lay there. Her eyes closed. Her thoughts consumed by only one person.
Rayner.
She had loved him, still loved him, and now he was gone.
Forever. And she was stranded on this damned planet, thanks to Tahal, just to leave her with this pain. But hey, maybe she'd die here, then she'd be back with Rayner. Could enjoy life after death with him.
A sad laugh escaped her lips.
But then her ears registered a sound that didn't match the strong wind sweeping over her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and glimpsed something in the distance, rapidly approaching.
Michael tried to sit up, but she was too weak to do anything.
The thing came closer and closer until Michael could make out what it was: a speeder with hooded figures on board. It stopped right in front of her. The two figures disembarked and approached her. From above, they examined her. They spoke to each other, but the cloths protecting them from the wind and heat prevented Michael from understanding what they were saying.
Then they grabbed her and took her to their speeder.
Even though a fleeting thought crossed Michael's mind to try and free herself, it vanished immediately. She had nowhere to go. Without any friends, without anyone she could trust, she was subservient.
The people brought her across the landscape in a speeder. The hot wind whipped around her ears. Michael had no protective gear to shield her from such weather, unlike these people. She would most likely have died anyway if they hadn't found her.
The speeder lurched as they drove over a dune. Michael's head slammed against one of the metal railings meant to stabilize the vehicle. The pain shot through her body, forcing her to open her eyes. She immediately closed them again as sand flew into them.
Michael didn't know exactly when they stopped gliding across the planet's hot plains, nor did she know precisely where she was when they halted and someone grabbed her arm to pull her to her feet. Blinking rapidly, she adjusted her eyes to the dimly lit surroundings. It was a complete disaster, as she could see nothing more than chunks of rock. They were arranged in such a way as to create a tunnel into the mountain beyond. Even now, Michael could feel the chill.
Two armed men approached the small group. Their attention was entirely focused on Michael.
One of them even grinned at her.
"Arahk, Benben! Who have you picked up this time?"
"Doesn't look like a desert mouse, that's for sure," the grinning man remarked. His gaze slid up and down Michael's body. His eyes took on a dark hue, sending shivers down Michael's spine. It was as if she were being stared at by a Predator. "How about you bring her to me in the cell level?"
Michael had no idea which of the two was Benben or Arahk, but they both moved closer to her as the words left each other's mouths.
"You can forget about that right now, Johnny."
"Exactly," the man to her left agreed with his partner. "You know perfectly well that most new arrivals, especially the women who don't immediately scream 'alien,' have to be taken to the General first."
For a second, Michael thought she'd seen annoyance on Johnny's face, but a forced smile appeared on his lips.
"Sure, of course, I forgot." He stepped aside and gestured invitingly toward the gate. "Then I won't keep you any longer."
The two men, Arahk and Benben, each took one of Michael's arms and led her further through the tunnel. Daylight was beginning to fade, and one of them even had to light a small lamp attached to his wrist.
They continued walking until they reached a large, iron gate. A dull thud sounded from within, and a few seconds later, the gate opened. Something squeaked, as if it hadn't been oiled in a long time. But given the sandstorms and the aridity Michael had witnessed here, she wasn't surprised.
They stepped through the gate into the mountain's interior. A chill immediately enveloped her, a far cry from the heat outside.
Several armed men watched them go, some eyeing Michael with surprise, if not curiosity. Had these men never seen a woman before?
"Let's put her in one of the higher cells," Benben said to his companion as they reached a fork in the path, with a staircase leading further up.
"You really think so? She might be plotting something," Arahk said suspiciously, his grip on Michael's arm tightening so much that she had to stifle a hiss. "What if she's with the resistance and she was only out there to throw us off the trail and then strike from here?"
Benben snorted. "Fine, if you insist, we'll bring her down. But you know the Admiral will want to interrogate her himself when he gets back from his meeting."
The two men helped Michael down the stairs. The further down they descended, the colder it became. Goosebumps spread all over Michael's body, and she already missed the warmth that awaited her outside the mountain.
The mountain's rock was encased in metal plates and other metal tubes down here. It didn't seem very stable, judging by what she saw. To reinforce her suspicion, a piece of the rock crumbled and trickled to the ground.
"Come on, I don't want to be buried here," grumbled Benben, who must have seen the small pieces that had fallen off. "You know how unstable this mountain is."
"Yeah, yeah, don't get your knickers in a twist," Arahk teased immediately. He rummaged in his jacket pocket, then cursed again. "Shit, I forgot to take the key."
"You idiot, you know that if you lose it, the Admiral will have your head cut off."
Arahk shot Benben a withering look. "Shut the fuck up." His gaze shifted to one of the guards stationed at every other light-up entrance, phaser in hand. Thinking about an escape plan would be utterly foolish until she knew the procedures here.
"Hey you, come here and open the cell."
The guard approached without a word, took out a keycard, and slid it through the slot. There was a series of beeps before the cell door hissed open.
"Get in."
The two pushed Michael inside, and the door closed behind her.
Darkness.
Once again, she found herself in complete darkness.
She cautiously continued into the cell, taking slow steps, until she reached the opposite wall.
There, she slid down it, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her head on them. She hoped that whoever this admiral was wouldn't kill her immediately. Because if there was any resistance, she might find refuge there.
———————
Michael wasn't sure how much time had passed before the cell door opened again, after they had at least given her something to eat.
This time, it wasn't those two men who had brought her here. But they were still armed and handcuffed her.
They went back the same way until they reached the point where they had last gone downstairs, instead of up the stairs, where there were presumably more cells, if she believed what the men had said.
The passage was narrow, so one of the men walked in front of her and the other behind. Escape was impossible. Michael saw several other passages leading further into the mountain until they reached another fork in the road.
There were so many that Michael wasn't even sure she would ever find her way out again if she tried. This mountain was a veritable labyrinth.
Michael was so lost in thought that she almost collided with the man in front of her when he stopped in front of a door. The man pressed a button, and a moment later the door opened.
Michael blinked a few times, as the light inside was brighter than what was being diffused by the lights in the hallway. She was led inside, and flanked by the two men, they stopped in front of an empty desk. It was overflowing with papers and other data pads. For a moment, Michael found it fascinating that this person used paper.
"You're the person two of my men picked up in the heat of the planet."
Michael froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened when she heard the words. But it wasn't the words themselves that made her react that way. It was the voice. The one she could have picked out from a thousand others. The one who, over the past few years, had repeatedly toid her how much she loved her.
And then the person came into view, and Michael thought she had died in the heat of the planet after all.
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