#that 3 years after their relationship fell apart alicent still is reaching out and supportive when rhaenyra is giving her nothing

[criston-cole]

#hotdedit #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #alicenthightoweredit #rhaenicent #myedit #idk i find it much more emotional and compelling to see them go from where they started to where theyre gonna end up #that 3 years after their relationship fell apart alicent still is reaching out and supportive when rhaenyra is giving her nothing #and that even after her father pushes she's reluctant to try to advance her son over her former friend #kinda gay

[legolasbadass]

A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever​

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug. 

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021! 

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl​ @i-did-not-mean-to​

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#trsb21 #tolkien reverse summer bang #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #thorin fanfic #thorin x oc #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #a lifetime apart

[crime--europe]

On 22 January, 2018, in an apartment in Moscow, Russia, a drama broke out. 19-year-old Artem Iskhakov, a student of Moscow State Technical University and 19-year-old Tanya Strahova studied the same course at University. For a long time, the pair were bound by friendship, or rather, Tanya insisted on this and did not give Artem any chance of romance. Artem was madly in love with Tanya, but he did not have enough confidence to tell her, and kept his emotions to himself. The two friends began to rent an apartment at street Kazakova house 3 building 4 in Moscow together. It seemed nothing foreshadowed the upcoming disaster, but the girl began to show feelings for Artem’s roommate. This, of course, hurt Artem even more and he fell into a terrible depression. He began to go to a psychologist and take pills. From day to day, resentment and anger increased like a snowball and in the end, the emotional heat reached its apogee.

At 03:40 Artem sat in the kitchen, drank and waited for Tanya. Thoughts about the massacre of his lover were an obsession in his head from the very beginning of January, but Artem decided to do it this night. He thought everything over and over again. The front door opened and Tanya went into the corridor, where she wandered to her room to sleep. At that moment, Artem ran up to her and punched Tanya in the face. Tanya fell to the floor and Artem continued to punch her five more times. Tanya shouted “go away”, as blood began to drip from her mouth, but Artem did not go away, he began to strangle her and at some point Tanya lost consciousness. “My heart kept on beating, I decided quickly, while I was still warm, as they say, at her.” Having finished my business, I realised that my heart, a bitch, is still beating, “Artem wrote in the story. After the first rape took place. Holding his hands on the pulse of Tanya or a while, he took a knife and cut her throat, and then plugged the dying student’s mouth with pantyhose so as not to hear the wheezing of the damaged trachea. Blood splattered the whole floor in the corridor, but Tanya was not dead yet. Artem then decided to plant the blade of the dagger between Tanya’s ribs twice. It was over. After Artem eventually killed Tanya, he took her phone and began to talk to Tanya’s friend’s on Telegraph, pretending to be her.  This communication prompted him to perform another rape of Tanya, but this time with a dead and cold corpse.

Slightly sobered, Artem began to make a farewell report about how he committed the crime, about what feelings he felt for Tanya. Artme also left messages for friends, sisters and parents, and Tanya. Despite the fact that he began to gradually come to understand the horror of what he had done, in the morning, having eaten sandwiches for dinner, Artem went to Tanya’s room again where Tanya’s cold corpse lay and engaged in sex with her. Later that day, Artem committed suicide after leaving a long farewell note on his VK profile.

The message that Artem left on his VK account. Hello, guys. my name is Artem Iskhakov and I want to tell a story about what happened tonight. 

22.01.18 03:40 I killed my neighbor. and fucked. twice. perhaps I will do it again, but it starts to cool down, slightly unpleasant to smell and not as narrow as it was the first time. Why did I do this? I do not know, because I’m tired of listening to her fucking explanations on why she’s against drinking with me and seeing how she tries to drive to my friend, how they communicate in class and realize that I’m not that good, so that we had at least some similar relationship with her. I was hatching this idea somewhere else from the first days of January and picturing in my head how this happens. then I was fucking off myself. very much ohuel. very very very much. and then came the fact that Tanya did not eat until the summer, because the parents do not have money to repair now and I fucked up again. How did it all happen? she returned home, I was sitting in the kitchen, she started to go to her room and I punched her face, she fell to the floor. I hit several more times, she bleeds from her mouth and she starts asking me to leave. I did not go, lol. I began to choke her. During this, she still continued to say something like “go away.” At one point she clearly lost consciousness, but her heart continued to beat. I decided quickly, while it was still cold, as they say, fucking her. Having finished my business, I realized that my heart, a bitch, is still beating. then I held my hands on my neck again - zero effect. Then I took the knife and cut her throat. I do not know how well I did it, but the blood was decent. Ich, the pulse still remained. Then I took a knife and stuck it to my left between the ribs two times. then I pogizdel with sasha in the cart from her phone, fucked again and decided to go write this text. people are surprisingly tenacious, as it turned out, or I did not have enough physical strength to strangle her quickly. even at some point, I pushed her pantyhose into her mouth, so as not to see the blood and not to hear any strange sounds that continued to emanate her body. and, and even pulled the throat of one of the ropes I was buying to try the shibari with her. ironically, yes? Well, okay, such details are important only to all the fucked perverts. to try with her shibari. ironically, yes? Well, okay, such details are important only to all the fucked perverts. to try with her shibari. ironically, yes? Well, okay, such details are important only to all the fucked perverts. Now there will be a piece with words to people. order is in no way connected with the importance of people. as comes to mind, so I write. Mozhaev - you are an asshole. I hope you do not get up any worse with any of your friends. fucking fuck, pizdzha for a relationship, you could fucking take and stop talking to her for a while, so she calmed her fucking feelings. and die your chsv, it’s not cool Ilenko - free yourself from the shackles of whit. it’s not yours, you will not be happy with it, start your psychological state and be a fucking dude Kocheshkov - that untold story - I fucked vita somewhere in May. Be a good girl. Let’s sit down? Vita Salahova - free yourself from the chains of Dima. it’s not yours, you will not be happy with it. your constant skinheads on the garbage and your desire to hide in front of him is the most obvious example of the fact that everything is fucking Vanya Galushko - I hope the army will not affect you as a person and you will be a crocheted boy Sister - do not grow a dumb cunt, I implore Michael Yurievich - I did not tell you much and at some point even lied that it was bad and hard for me. probably, it was not worth it to do and everything would have turned out differently, but alas, and what was done, it’s done. you are a good psychologist and I am glad that I dealt with you Artem Sergeyevich - I do not understand why you ignored me the last couple of times when I wrote to you, but it does not matter. Thank you for giving me the contacts of a psychologist and writing out the pills, thereby at least somehow easing my life from Vita from Peter - I was an extremely fucking friend, whatever one may say. you are very cool and good, forgive me for all the times when I did you bad. especially for the situation when I came to St. Petersburg and we did not meet. I hope all your problems are solved and you will live a fucking life of Lida - we have not communicated very much, but you seem very nice and sweet girl, stay with her and I hope everything will be all right for you. if you read this, give it to the psychologist. Timur - forgive me for coming to you and making you listen to it all. it is a pity that we did not have a classic fraternal relationship. I love you Parents - I’m a complete disappointment for you. I was a drug addict, constantly lied to you and did not love you, but almost hated, even though you did only good things to me, but such is life and such a person. you brought me up as a good person, but I turned somewhere wrong in life. do not blame yourself, please Tanya’s parents (if you somehow get it) - forgive me for having deprived you of your only child. I loved her, very much, but Tanya was too selfish and that’s why it all happened. you are very good people. I really, really hope that you will have the strength to go through it. once again, forgive, even such a forgive and you can not Alice - I behaved like a complete asshole in relation to you. I’m sorry for everything and I hope you’ll all be fucked Colleagues from work - you boo guys. I hope my shit code can be sorted out by anyone and will support a single window and smbp. Lech - you bitch guy. Ilya - you too cunt, do not get drunk, please. the rest - fuck and everything will be cool. Alina - forgive me for fucking the brain with talk about the tanya. The rest - forgive me if I made you some kind of fuck or something. live pussy and do not be such a fucker like me. You know, at this moment I realized what kind of fucking I did. I felt cold and my hands began to shake even more, hehe. my God, this is fucking, fucking, corpse. but now I have nothing left but to collect my strength and get drunk. it is very easy to kill a person, but to realize it is not. but now you can check whether there is life after death. very much I want to go to bed and understand what will happen to me after all these events. I used to love her. his fucked love, but he loved. oh yes, I’m still relatively drunk, not in shit, of course, but still. an extremely ibanskie act on my part. I’m a terrible person. I plus a minus all about it spoke, and you did not trust. I fucked on the idea of ​​fucking Tanya so much that I killed her. Of course, this was not the main reason, but the fact that I raped her cooling corpse, says a lot. probably, I’m an unhealthy person mentally. although which is probably lol. really want to watch what will happen next. she was so cheerful when she went to escort Dima, eh. the author of the song “we are possible” is a fucking asshole, a couple of times to hear your fucking psyche, you perceive it as a call to action. extremely incoherent nonsense. also, sorry for all the typos and stuff in this text. I’m too lazy to re-read. in my opinion, I lived a life full of boredom. astin, basil, I’m coming to you, my dear friends. in fact, I do not really want to die, because, my God, there’s so much more to do in this fucking world, but the situation is such that I’m hardly going to jail from prison, and if I do, I’ll get to Durk, and this even more fucked up. fuck this way to live, in short. I’m thinking, hang myself, open the veins, or try to stick a knife into my heart for once or twice or three. it is very difficult to choose. or even under a train to jump. she has such a thin neck. and cool breasts. I’ve told, that I love her? but I even will not live until 20, heh. my world began to fall apart a few months ago and now I completely destroyed it. revolt from the ashes - a lie. I’m not trying to justify myself. what I did was awful, but I did what I wanted and thought fit, because I can fuck. could. I’ll go out the Buters. I will enjoy it while I can. Ate and fucked her again, fuck. lie down to sleep for a few hours. Slept. it’s very funny how the brain starts to generate thousands of reasons to live when you start thinking about death. so much, just fucking. she is now in the next room, and I sit and smile. I’m not sure that I even had a shock, it’s strange. The first time the idea of ​​killing someone came to me in class at 5-6, when a fly came to me, we played in a computer, and when he left I thought that it would be very cool to strangle him with a wire from charging for a laptop and throw the body on stairs. I lived with my demons and tried to fight. did not work out. I’m too weak-minded person, and it’s all pathetic attempts to justify myself, I guess. now I throw thoughts out of my head. in the last, I hope, again. my last code is a server that will host this paste and show the text after a while.

It’s a bit sad that I never got my GP in 80k. and do not get it. and I will not look at the new vidos on YouTube. fucking, I just want to disappear from the real world and watch everything from above. she’s so cold, huh. like her heart towards me. I would like that everything would turn out differently. the last almost two years. that we continued to be together, so that my roof would not go, so that there was not all this epic with Mozhaev, so that there would not be her stupid husband. funny, he is now a widower. you know, when I strangled her, I did not have a drop of regret and doubt. and it is very exciting. WHAT TO FUCK WITH ME NOT SO AND WHEN IT STARTED. before that I did not punch anyone in the face with all my strength. I regret my decision. almost. I thought I would cut myself as usual and calm down, but something went wrong. I wonder how much you fuck at reading. I would be fucked. my aggression was able to find a way out. the final chord. I can not even sob even now. it’s amazing how to just lose all of humanity in yourself. I do not know, after what time the corpse begins to smell, but I hope that by the time when everyone is sleeping, I will not exist any more. too much hope. again in a dream to tend begins, fuck. and his hands tremble a little. funnily enough, today I even did something at work. I wonder how much I will be a great loss for the team.

I’m still thinking about the chances of a normal life if I do not get drunk. any? likely. I do not want to go to jail, I will not take it there. I no longer have a purpose for existence. For a while, it was a desire to take care of the thane and return it, and now I myself have deprived myself of this. and her parents deprived them of their beloved daughter. they are good people. that’s before whom I really feel a little ashamed, so it’s in front of them. I have fucked all the moral settings. tear almost flowed out. I remember how, under acid, I realized all the crystal purity and beauty of love. that’s what my brain turned into. what have I become. sorry. I can not atone for my sins. I’ll go kiss the thaw in the cold forehead and prepare. she lies there dead and cold with no moving fingers. what have I done, fuck. fucking fuck. how much I want to say more, but I do not know what else to add. 

if you have, or someday, a friend / girlfriend who / will suffer so much for someone, beat him up in fuck and try to explain that such communication will lead to nothing good. it just destroys you and ravages your psyche. I ruined the happiness of several people, and for what? in the end there is only one emptiness that will swallow me up. it is extremely curious to see the reaction of all the persons connected with us, but no, I must die. I. must. I hope, all will turn out. there was the last cigarette. There is no way back. this paste is the quintessence of attention. but what to do. remember something good about me at least sometimes. I did not think that everything would end like this. finish the last and leave. It is a pity that she will not be able to watch her TV series in an embrace any more and chat. Once again, forgive me for everything. and no one should blame himself and think that you overlooked or something, no one would have thought, I’m sure I can do it. Zero emotions. I comprehended Zen. drink it because I’m in hell. Farewell. goodnight, sweet princess. 01/22/18 15:55 

I’m standing on the legs that are knocked down. With the realization that I’ve done it. The knife was stuck in the abdominal cavity of the one I loved with all my heart. 

Put at my funeral “Der Golem - No” fuck, but I completely forgot that there is a message timer. Ul. Kazakova, 3k4, I do not know the apartment number, like 31 or 32 or 33, but this is the first floor in the entrance to the left. Call the cops. 55.763497, 37.658109 The password from the Sberbank application is 08080, from the rocket is 4104, on the cards too 4104, the remaining passwords are jktirijngt, JKTRIjngt5512 (and any variations with the permutation of the digits and the caps), on the laptop you can make pass ls in the console, password from the password store on the laptop - jktirijngt, I’ll take off the phone with the phone, perhaps. the password from the tannic laptop is 741852nh, suddenly there is something important there. from my laptop - root / jktirijngt

Crime scene photos here.

#True Crime #Russia