#Hasur

[angy-brows]

Can I just say I love how chaotic hasur is. Like I feel they'd put on a persona around everyone. I imagine leshy finding out there true nature and hasur thinking 'oh great I fucked up.' Meanwhile leshys just like.... Y.E.S.

[deleuzional-tradtrender]

If hasur cultists existed in the modern day they'd say take the yellow pill instead of have you seen the yellow sign send tweet.

"My friend won't shut up about this play and I think his politics are getting weird, he keeps ranting about the 'imperial dynasty of america' or something." "Sounds like he's based and yellow-pilled"

[sup4cid-g-1rl]

në çdo rrethanë të jetës sime, që nga ushqimi që ha, do më duhet me se s'bën të jem pranuese, të jem the bigger person, to struggle, të toleroj atë që unë vërtet dua, të pranoj shumë pak sepse aq mund të japin për mua. pse ma shpif të shoqërohem me njerëz? kjo është pse, sepse gjithmonë më duhet të jem në këtë mut pozite ku jo se s'mar aq sa jap mbas, por nuk mar pas atë që realisht kam nevojë në një mënyrë të caktuar dhe pse herë është e dukshme ajo që unë kam nevojë e shumë herë e shpreh, nuk ka rëndësi. e kjo mbase jo sepse ata nuk duan, por nuk dinë. e kjo ma shpif. ndaj rri vetëm. ndaj dua të jem akoma dhe më shumë e zonja e vetes sime, sepse njerëzit janë kokshkretë, të paktën këta që unë kam hasur. duan vetëm të gllabërojnë, e familja ime ma rikujton shpesh këtë gjë. të japin një indicie se duan të të ndihmojnë, vetëm për ta dhjerë. a thua se kjo gjë i fal kënaqësi, por aq dinë ata e kjo është e dhimbshme dhe e pështirë. edhe në shoqëri duan të zhvatin, po, edhe ato më hyjnoret e bëjnë. mbase thjesht duhet të jap më pak, sepse atë meritoj unë, të jap më pak e të mar më shumë, sepse përherë kam dhënë dhe jam shkelur. kjo është natyra instiktive e qelbur e primale e qenieve në tokë. fundërrina të fëlliqura, posi unë dhe ti.

- "Kanibalizëm" / Shadow's Lady 222 / 06.04.2025

[phighsces-en]

#njezarfpapusull

🫀

Sa e sa her ta kam then ku ke qen me pare si sna ka hasur kjo jete e kushedi sa te kam pritur , kushedi sa kam menduar sa endrra kam thurur . Erdhe krejt paprit erdhe pak vrullshem , kaluam disa momente , shkembyem disa shikime , humba ne syt e tu , rashe pre e jotja , rashe per ty , u bera e jotja me at shikim por jo per nje moment per me gjate shpresova . Kisha shume frik ,nuk shikoja para por vetem e shqetsuar e doren ne zemer vazhdoja qendroja me koken nga mbrapa , ah sa frike kisha sikur vec ta dije . Me sigurove , mu gjinde aty ku ste dija ku ste prisja , me tregove me shum nga cdija me shum nga cprisja . Me more prane , me qendrove prane , me bere pjese te dites tende , jetes tende , zemres tende . Ndihem se kam zene nje vend aty nje cep goxha te ngrohte , sa e mjer ne mend se sdi te te shpjegoj te te tregoj me fjale sa mire nddihem sa e lumtur ndihem . Thashe nje cep se ke nje zemer shume te madhe e ke mbushur me njerzit me te dashur per ty per njerzit e tu familjen tende e dashmirsin tende . Jam shum me fat qe te kam ,sdi ckam ber per tet merituar .thua ti ,e them dhe un shpeshhere, pastaj te dy kthemi tek zoti e falenderojm ate se un e ndjej friken e di qe edhe ti kur peshperit lutjen e ndjen at frike . Nuk e flasim , nuk e dgjojme ama e ndjejme ama nuk ekziston e ska nevoj ta diskutojme. Je gjithcka cka skam un e jam gjithcka cka sje ti me plotson si gjysme hen , je si natyra qe mqetson , je busull qe morienton , je i vetmi qe me njeh ne cdo dimension !

[wanderingmind867]

Remember my Sims 4/Sitcom story idea post? If you don't, I just reblogged it. And if you do, here's a continuation to it. Meet the five main characters (at least as of the series premiere), the McLellan family!

Hasure Udonda/Hector McLellan: Our alien and leading protagonist. Hector is a shy, socially awkward man, befuddled by the weird world of earth society. He's not a bad man, but he is lost and confused. He dresses incredibly out of place for a modern man, he talks like a robot sometimes, he tries to fit in but doesn't do a great job of it. His adoptive earth family adores him, because he is a kind man who grows to care about them all. But he is also a man who wants to get back home to his parents and family, so he's really caught in a dilemma.

When Hector eventually falls for the budding entertainer who nobody else seems to appreciate, he becomes even more conflicted about what to do with his life. As he falls in love and gains a boyfriend on earth, he doesn't know how he could possibly be expected to leave earth behind and abandon his adoptive family and his boyfriend. In the end, he gets so lost and conflicted that only his alien parents coming to him can help him solve the dilemma. He's truly a man divided between worlds.

Martin McLellan: Martin McLellan is a family man, deeply in love with his wife Jeannie. But Martin's commitments to his family are sometimes strained, since he's also a scientist working at the town observatory. Some people in town deride him as a kook, but Martin is so sincere and kind that nobody can ever actually hate him. They mind consider him a loon, but they'd never call him a jerk or evil or unkind. Nobody can speak of unkind word of Martin, he's just so sincerely optimistic and good hearted.

Martin is the reason Hector gets taken in by the family. Martin saw Hector's spaceship hurtling towards earth through the observatory telescope, and he tracked the path of the ship until he managed to find it out in the new mexico flats. There, he helped extricate Hector from the crash site and led him to his family's new home. Martin was so excited he couldn't help but enthuse about it to his wife and kids. A real life spaceman! With them! Martin had always been dreaming of this moment, but he never thought it'd actually come! And all because he took this new job in New Mexico, uprooting his family from their home in Minneapolis.

But Martin's the one responsible for helping renovate the house to include Hector. He's also the one who most loves having Hector around. Him and Hector frequently exchange knowledge and information, and Hector even helps Martin out at his workplace in exchange for help getting back home. They grow to have a really deep bond, and it's really something to behold once the two of them have started talking about science to each other.

Jeannie McLellan: Jeannie McLellan is the homemaker of the family. A lover of all things gourmet, Jeannie was a high profile chef in Minneapolis when she happened to see some of the waitstaff at her restaurant bad-mouthing a customer for his eccentric habits. This customer ended up being Martin, and it made Jeannie fall in love at first sight. Rushing to his defense, she successfully defended his honour. And then an average night at work quickly became a first date with the weird alien obsessed scientist living in town.

One thing led to another, and Martin and Jeannie became proud parents to two adorable children. Both of them adore their children, and they love gushing about them to anyone who'll listen. But lately, Martin and Jeannie have been struggling with their relationship. Jeannie feels stifled at home, since she's permanently bound to the role of homemaker and mother. She wants to be a chef again, damn it! She wants to make delicious food for the people again! So when Martin moves the whole family to New Mexico for his work, it's almost the last straw in their relationship. They still love each other dearly, but they don't know how to make it work.

It's into this situation that Hector the strange alien visiter arrives. With Hector now there to help with the kids, Jeannie successfully persuades her husband to let her go back into being a chef again. So by the end of Season One of the TV show, Jeannie is successfully running and operating her own restaurant again. But now she's not just a leading cook. Now she's a lady who's 100% in charge of her own business! And to think, it never would've happened without Hector…

Although Hector initially doesn't get along with Jeannie (food on his homeworld is very different from food on earth, and he once accidentally insulted her cooking), the two of them slowly became like family to each other. It's slower than it was with Martin, but by the end of Season One or Two, Hector and Jeannie are pretty much family just the same.

Darrin McLellan: Darrin McLellan is the oldest of Martin and Jeannie's two children. Ten years old at the start of the show, Darrin is almost the complete opposite of his father. Lonely and pessimistic, Darrin dresses in almost all black (or at least black and white). He's only nine, but he acts like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. An oddly intelligent kid, but one burdened by a melancholy far beyond his years.

Hector coming into the family actually turns out to be really beneficial for Darrin's development, since they're both just as shy and socially awkward as each other. An alien from the far reaches of space and a lonely nine year old boy end up far closer than anybody would've ever suspected. Hector almost grows to see Darrin as his real nephew. When Hector learns Darrin was bullied at school for being different, he almost ends up using his technology to take revenge on the bullies. Darrin talks him down, but the two of them might be the closest members of the family (even closer than Hector and Martin).

Samantha McLellan: Samantha McLellan is the youngest member of the McLellan household. Only seven years old when the show begins, Samantha is a very sporting and sociable young girl. In contrast to her brother Darrin, Samantha is a complete social butterfly. She has almost dozens of friends. People just love her. She's a sweet girl who's nice to everybody, and she makes herself well known amongst the community. Her family has only been living in New Mexico for about a month, and already Samantha has friends all over the neighborhood.

When Hector joins the family, Samantha takes it upon herself to try and introduce him to earth culture at large. Since she's only seven years old, she almost completely overwhelms Hector with information. She makes him stress and awkwardly force himself to be something he's not, but she doesn't do it intentionally. She's just a seven year old girl with far too much energy on her hands. It's not her fault Hector seems to enjoy spending more time with Darrin.

But even though Samantha initially feels like Hector loves Darrin more than her, that would be disproven by the end of the first season. At the season finale (maybe around the 30 episode mark), Hector helps set up Samantha's birthday party, and even buys her a gift straight from the heart (with deep meaning and sentimental value). And in that moment, Samantha finally realizes Hector loves her like a member of his alien family (thus wrapping up a season long storyline).

PS: If you know what Martin, Jeannie, Darrin and Samantha are all referencing, them congratulations! You know about as much tv show trivia as me, someone who's read wikipedia pages on way too many old american sitcoms. And you get commendations for recognizing my little joke.

[xhemilbeharaj]

Shkenca nuk e spjegon/ Vrima misterioze dhe e përsosur rrethore në Alaskë

Krateri Savonoski është një gropë e rrumbullakët në jugperëndim të Alaskës, të cilën shkencëtarët prej kohësh kanë hasur vështirësi ta shpjegojnë për shkak të mungesës së provave gjeologjike. Megjithatë, ekziston një shpjegim shkencor për këtë mungesë provash, kështu që mund të themi me siguri se kjo vrimë nuk është as një fenomen mbinatyrore dhe as një krijim alienësh. Krateri ka një diametër…

[kercovanet]

VLEN: Urojmë fitoren e madhe të Kurtit në zgjedhje

Koalicioni VLEN ka shprehur urimet për fitoren e madhe të Lëvizjes Vetëvendosje dhe Kryeministrit Albin Kurti në zgjedhjet e para të rregullta në Republikën e Kosovës. “Në një Kosovë, që vitet e fundit është përballur me sfida dhe vështirësi të shumtë që keni hasur gjatë qeverisjes, fitorja e Vetëvendosjes dhe Kryeministrit Kurti është një mesazh dhe sinjal i fortë për Kosovën dhe të ardhmen e…

[justmilktea]

Hans hariku masih berat

Bagaimana denganmu? Katanya dua orang berpisah yang berat itu berdua, apa iya?

Hans apa benar hasur selesai?

Besok aku ke jogja doakan aku tetap baik2 saja ya.

[almasmoons]

Georges Braque: Pionero del movimento cubista

Desde un modesto aprendiz de decorador en Le Hasure ' Hasta un pionero revolucionario del cubismo junto a Picasso, la vida de este artista estuvo llena de triunfos y tragedias.

Georges Braque nació el 13 de mayo de 1882 en Argenteuil, cerca de París, Francia, de padres Charles y Augustine. Su padre, que era un pintor aficionado y su abuelo antes que él, dirigía un negocio de decoración de casas, que es sin duda de donde surgió el interés de Braque por la textura y los efectos táctiles de la pintura. En 1890, la familia se mudó a Le Havre, donde Braque asistió a la escuela pública local y, a menudo, acompañaba a su padre en expediciones de pintura.

Inicio de una nueva era

Fue durante 1907 conoció a Pablo Picasso, quien lo invitó a visitar su estudio. Braque quedó profundamente afectado por la visita, especialmente cuando vio la obra innovadora de Picasso: Les Demoiselles d'Avignon.

Pronto quedó claro que había una afinidad inmediata entre los dos artistas y pronto siguió una amistad íntima y camaradería artística. Colaboraron estrechamente, intercambiando ideas casi a diario y comentando con frecuencia el trabajo de cada uno.

Es imposible decir cuál de los dos fue el principal inventor del nuevo estilo revolucionario de pintura que más tarde se conocería como cubismo.

Eso sí, el golpe liberador lo dio Picasso con las Damas de Avignon.

Pero, fue Braques quien, en gran parte por su admiración por Cezanne, aportó gran parte de la temprana tendencia hacia las formas geométricas. Entre ellos desarrollaron las ideas que impulsaron el desarrollo de este nuevo estilo artístico.

En mayo de 1908, Braque y Picasso expusieron por primera vez sus pinturas cubistas en el Salon des Indépendants de París.

Su trabajo recibió críticas mixtas de los críticos y algunos lo denunciaron porque desafiaron las formas convencionales de representación, como el uso de la perspectiva, que había sido la regla desde el arte renacentista.

Durante el verano de 1908, Braque realizó cerca de Marsella pinturas que mostraban su determinación para dividir las imágenes en partes diseccionadas.

Los volúmenes de losa, el colorido sobrio y la perspectiva distorsionada en sus pinturas de este período son típicos de la primera parte de lo que ahora se llama la fase Cubismo Analítico.

En otoño de ese mismo año, Braque mostró sus pinturas en la Galería Kahnweiler de París, lo que llevó al crítico de arte parisino Louis Vauxcelles a hacer su comentario sobre los "cubos" que darían este estilo de pintando su nombre.

Casas en L'Estaque, 1908 /// Botella y Pescados, 1908

Posteriormente, en 1912, el cubismo evolucionó hacia el "Cubismo Sintético". En esta etapa, Braque y otros artistas introdujeron elementos de collage en sus obras, incorporando materiales como papel, cartón y tela en sus pinturas.

Fue durante este año que Braque creó lo que generalmente se considera su primer collage de papel al unir tres piezas de papel tapiz al dibujo Fruit Dish and Glass.

El tema se volvió más central, más importante con menos énfasis en los planos contrastantes.

Braque también experimentó con la representación de instrumentos musicales, naturalezas muertas y paisajes en su obra. A lo largo de su carrera, su estilo evolucionó, y en la década de 1920, incorporó elementos más realistas y figurativos en sus pinturas, alejándose gradualmente del cubismo puro.

La contribución de Georges Braque al movimiento cubista es significativa, y su influencia perdura en la historia del arte. Su enfoque innovador y su colaboración con Picasso fueron fundamentales para el desarrollo y la difusión del cubismo en el panorama artístico del siglo XX.

[dylbianews]

Gruaja që u bë e famshme në Shihemi në Gjygj flet për herë të parë… “Nuk kisha pi kokrrat, Zonja Eni më tha shaje.

Vjollca e cila u bë e famshme me shprehjet e saj në emisionin “Shihemi në Gjyq”, ka treguar vështirësitë që është hasur pas daljes televizive.   Në një intervistë për “Real People” në Euronews Albania, Vjollca tha se ditën që doli në televizor nuk kishte marrë qetësuesen dhe sipas saj situata i doli jashtë kontrollit.   Vjollca theksoi se të gjithë të afërmit i bërtisnin dhe e shanin, gjë e cila…

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Cloud City, Chapter Eight - a Malevolent AU

Sit, witch. It’s the Defiler.

And oh, Asenath’s face.

She already looks tired. Now, at these words, she goes dead pale, making her stubble stand out, making the kohl around her eyes seem bruisingly dark. “Oh,” says Asenath, and falls into her chair as though unplugged from her power source. “Well, that sucks."

AO3 || Masterpost

---------

They go to the station. Arthur knows this part, has done this part a thousand times.

He does not expect the psychic paper to catch fire the moment he tries to transfer what he knows.

That… is new. That is frightening. His left hand grips his right while they try again, but no—it’s not the paper’s fault. The second and third sheets burst into flames, too.

Whatever this etheric resonance is carries so much power that it cannot be recorded in the usual way.

It makes sense. It’s somehow tied to the violent death of seventy-eight victims. It would be too much. Still, Arthur feels irrationally embarrassed. The coppers are giving him strange looks, wary ones, and who the hell knows what they mean?

“Hey,” he says to one who passes by. “Has someone called Asenath yet?”

He gets a shrug and the back of that guy’s head.

Arthur is so damn tired.

Finally, they dig a memory stone out of storage—old thaumaturgy, and not cheap, but also durable, so he holds that and concentrates to transfer his new memory.

The memory stone cracks.

“Fuck!” he says, and the cops echo his curse as they take the broken stone away.

What’s he going to do? Should he leave? Can he? Will Parker let him? If he can’t transfer the essence, there’s no point in staying here. He stands.

Three officers converge on him.

No one says he’s under arrest. No one puts him in cuffs, or anything; but they shuttle him into a small office, give him a cup of black coffee, and leave him there alone.

There isn’t even a window in here.

Arthur feels drained. He sits in the chair they gave him, slumped, hands around the coffee he can only feel with one palm, trying to focus his remaining eye on the rising steam, on the bubbles on the coffee’s surface, on any of the little sights he used to take for granted.

Crying at the police station is not a thing he’d like to do, and he does his best to keep it under wraps.

Right, says Hasur. Are you ready for the bad news?

“What, don’t think you’re being overheard now?” Arthur can’t help snapping.

No. Parker’s not here. Nobody’s near you, and it’s chaos out there.

It is chaos out there. Arthur’s not sure what is so special about this etheric resonance, but its existence seems to have sounded a metaphorical alarm. There’s shouting, phone calls, people running by—

“All right. Guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

What I saw in that last room confirms that someone got hold of The Revelations of Gla'aki.

“The what?” says Arthur, hoarse.

Books. They are filled with blasphemies and foul things and spells and rituals that weaken the boundaries between your world and ours. While they have some useful things, like the Pentacle of Planes for protection, most of those books are just dangerous.

“How many copies are there?”

None and too many, all at once. They’re dream-books. You can burn every copy you find, but someone will always dream another.

“Dream-books. Great. Chasing your tail,” Arthur mutters.

Yes. And—

“And what?”

The reason Hastur stopped becomes clear: the door opens, and Asenath walks in. “So. You burned up some psychic paper. That’s a thing.” She closes the door behind her.

“Asenath,” says Arthur, deeply relieved.

“Don’t sound so happy to see me,” she says. “You’ll make me think you’re likeable.”

“Ha… yeah.”

Sit, witch. It’s the Defiler.

And oh, Asenath’s face.

She already looks tired; whatever she was doing while Arthur was scouting murder sites must have been big. Now, at these words, she goes dead pale, making her stubble stand out, making the kohl around her eyes seem bruisingly dark. “Oh,” says Asenath, and falls into her chair as though unplugged from her power source. “Well, that sucks.”

I saw signs of spells from The Revelations of Gla'aki. I saw rot. I saw the lingering effects of perversion.

“Fuck,” says Asenath.

If it were only that.

“Fuck,” she says again, and runs her hand through her hair. Her nails—still chipped—are all different colors now. “Okay. Okay. Sure. Might as well be this.”

“Someone going to tell me what the Defiler is?” says Arthur.

Wait, Hastur warns.

The door opens. “All good here?” says Parker.

“We’re good. Off you go, darling,” says Asenath, making shooing motions.

Parker pauses, but then he goes. The door shuts.

Asenath waggles her fingers at it.

All the sound from out there immediately stops.

She looks smug as hell.

“What did you do?” Arthur says.

“We can talk now without being overheard.”

Powers sure must be nice to have . “Great. So what’s the Defiler?”

“Did Hastur even try?” she said.

You’re far better at explaining, he says, completely smooth.

“I’m not, but you’re enjoying this too much to stop, aren’t you?” she says.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Somebody tell me.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Don’t call me boss.”

Asenath gives him the sassiest grin he has ever seen in his life. “Whatever you say, boss.”

How had he thought this playfulness was attacking him all that time? How? “Stop being likable, yourself,” he adds. “Explain.”

The sassiness fades. “He’s bad, Arthur Lester. The Defiler is a deity of perversion and rot. Loves things like orgies ending in cannibalism, specifically targeting children.”

Arthur stares at her. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“He’s one of the reasons the gods sealed themselves away,” she says. “He has no self control. If he comes through, he’ll wreck everything. He wouldn’t even hesitate. Wouldn’t hold back. By the time he was done? Even souls wouldn’t be safe; he likes to shove them into the in-between spaces, so they’re trapped between life and death, in eternal limbo.”

“So he’s like the devil, but real?”

“None of these beings are good or bad, Arthur Lester. To be moral, you have to have choice. They just… are what they are. You might as well get mad at the wind for drying your eyes.”

“Great. So why don’t the others stop him?”

She sighs. “They are. That’s why you have the glass of Leng and the Dagger of Obsidian and Blood. That’s why you have the Summon you have. You know Hastur isn’t normal, right?”

Nicely phrased, witch. Hastur sounds pleased.

She shrugs. “Some tar, I don’t care to stick my fists into.”

You certainly seem to want to stick something somewhere.

“You big flirt!” she says, batting her eyelashes.

Arthur has no energy for this. “How can you joke after what you just said?”

“Sorry, Arthur Lester,” says Asenath. “I keep forgetting this is your first extinction event. It’s not my first. Or my second. Or my tenth.”

He stares at her. “How do you handle it?”

“Eyes on the prize.” She shrugs. “Eventually, I get to go to the Mother. It’ll all be worth it.”

That’s a lot to think about. He doesn’t have a prize to eye; the torment of Faroe’s murderer is already part of this, and beyond that…

Right, he’s distracting himself. “So what you’re saying is, them ‘stopping’ one of their own from destroying the world they claim to love so much is just… picking some guy.”

“Oh, honey,” says Asenath. “That’s half the fun. Nobody knows what you’ll do. They’re probably taking bets. They’re certainly watching. Neither your success nor failure are inevitable.”

“Great,” he mutters. “That feels great to know.”

“Don’t doubt yourself so much. Hastur chose you. The Mother chose you. You’ve been given opportunity and tools, and… well. I know for a fact that you’re stubborn enough to pull it off.”

He doesn’t doubt himself. He just knows what he is, deep down, and it’s nothing to write home about. “My stubbornness isn’t my best quality.”

“It might be.” She takes his hand, raises it, and kisses the back.

Magick tingles, spreading rapidly from her lips, covering his hand to the wrist and pulsing in time with his heart.

Arthur stares. “What did you just do?”

“One of the few protections I can give that’ll mean anything,” she says. “Some hours of energy without having to eat. You’ll be okay for a while yet.”

It seems so small, and he feels small for thinking it. “You can do more. Fuck, I sound ungrateful, and I’m not, but you’re Asenath Waite. You can do more!”

“I have restrictions,” she said, almost gently. “I’m a representative of the Mother, and so I can only get so involved. If I push too hard, it’s considered cheating. I’ll simply be removed.”

“Removed?”

She shrugs. The smile is tired, old; still spicy, still crooked. She’s not done, but she’s already made her peace if removal happens.

If the worst happens, and she goes to the Mother.

He doesn’t miss that she’s more ready to die than he is. That’s definitely a change from when they first met five years ago. “The Mother… saved everyone from the Fire of Y?”

“No, they all did that together, and it was a pain in the ass. They won’t do it again, Arthur. There’s no one coming to save us.”

Great. Now he wants to cry in the police station again. “You say that like any of this is fair. It’s not.”

“It’s not. It’s fun to them, and we can’t change it—so we might as well make do.”

He sighs and leaned forward, hanging his head.

Asenath is silent.

So is Hastur.

Arthur gets it. All this talk of nature and morality, success and failure… he gets it. He has to choose to do this. If he chooses to fuck around and let the world end, that’ll be it. They’ll just watch. It’s all on him, and they picked a lousy horse. “Five years ago,” he says evenly, “I would’ve let this happen. I would’ve died screaming, but with a smile on my face, knowing whoever killed my daughter was dying, too. You know that, right?”

Asenath looks stricken. “I didn’t know it was that bad. I’m sorry.”

Yes. I did.

Something about that answer bothers him. “Hastur,” Arthur says slowly. “Did you… choose me on purpose for this role?”

No. You were a Contractor strong enough to let me get eyes on the situation. I didn’t even know how long you would last. Your mental recovery , as lovely as it’s been, is incidental. I did not know you’d be chosen to do this.

Arthur goes very still. “So you thought I might blow up in a week.”

It was a possibility.

And Asenath gets it before Hastur does. Her eyes go wide. “Oooh, shit,” she says, low.

“Then you already knew who murdered my daughter, or you couldn’t risk not fulfilling the Contract.”

Silence.

Asenath has one hand over her mouth.

“Didn’t you?” says Arthur. “Didn’t you?”

Yes.

Arthur supposes—the part of himself that still functions, like an echo of mind—that it is in Asenath’s favor that she doesn’t just walk out of the room. She looks horrified, shocked, gutted, both gutted and pitying, but she stays.

The rest of him is so angry at Hastur that he cannot think.

He can’t hit Hastur.

He doesn’t want to hit Asenath.

He can’t do anything. Maybe it would be a good idea to leave. He stands.

Asenath starts to speak, then stops. She gestures, as if to say, you do what you have to do.

“I guess that’s the wisdom immortal experience gets you,” says Arthur, and walks out the door.

#

Parker is right there—he’d been leaning against the wall, arms crossed—and he grabs Arthur the moment he appears.

“Let go,” says Arthur, low and rough, sounding like a complete stranger.

“No,” says Parker. “You said there were going to be more murders. Three more, right? If there’s even the slightest chance we can get more information out of you to prevent those, you can’t go.”

Had Arthur mentioned how many murders were required for this? Probably. It didn’t matter. Not right now. Arthur has to go. He can’t run from Hastur, but he feels like he needs to try. “You’re not listening. I need to get out of here. Now.”

“No.”

Were they really doing this? “You don’t have any reason to hold me. I’ve broken no laws.”

“Well. You did trample all over six sealed crime scenes.”

Arthur gawked at him. “You were the one who unsealed them!”

“Was I?”

“Parker, this isn’t funny.” He tries to pull away.

Parker’s grip on his arm is like iron. “I don’t want to lock you up. Not after everything. But if you try to leave again, Arthur, I will.”

This could not be happening. “Parker, I’m serious. Let go.”

He does not.

Arthur can’t stay here, with Hastur inside him, can’t stay still with what he now knows. He jerks back.

Arthur, don’t. If you stay calm, we can sneak away. Arthur! Calm the fuck down!

So that did not calm him the fuck down, and Arthur does the exact opposite.

It takes the coppers nearly eight minutes to wrestle him to the floor.

(chapter nine)

[angy-brows]

I'm worried that if I call hasur cute he'll crawl out of the screen to kill me.... chaos cat.

Eh, more of a slightly amused indifference.

[possessive-crowley-central]

When Aziraphale and Michael have their cute little angelic sleepovers, they both have a stuffed animals that they stuggle with. Aziraphale has a snake and Michael has a stuffed frog. They just sleep so much better with their stuffies. Their demons will tuck them in together and hand them their stuffies. CROWLEY: That’s good, all nice and tucked in. Here’s your snake, angel. // HASUR: Be a good girl and let Aziraphale hold you, princess. There we are, very good. Here’s your frog, Michael.

Omf the stuffies is a ahhh ye s like, on the side of the stuffed frog it has the letter H stitched into it, as the snake one azira has that has the letter C stitched, it's always there when they get ready to sleep, it doesn't take them long and their knocked tf out 🤣❤️

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Most princes become dukes when married. Does this mean Duke Hasur is married? (Good omens)

Hmmmm that's an inch-resting question-

[jlilycorbie]

Happy WBW, lovely! Not sure why, but today I'm asking about fashion?? What does the fashion-- I'm talking high, street, or anything else-- look like in your world(s)?

Happy (very belated) Worldbuilding Wednesday! (Sunday?) Thank you for the ask!

I'm not great at visualizing things, and in real life I've learned to appreciate fashion, but in a sort of distant way? Like, I have friends who care deeply about it, and hearing/reading them talking about it taught me a lot about how interesting it is, but I still don't know much about it.

Still, I tried to think about what fashion would look like in the untitled fantasy WIP. (I'm trying to think more about Bad Fences, but there isn't a lot to talk about fashion-wise. It's set in modern America. The fashion is modern America. I guess I could dig in some with the Wyldeborns, since they're a big queer family, so their fashion is a bit off from the population at large, but Barbara is an older white lady who wants to talk to your manager.)

Clothing all over the world in the fantasy WIP is about practical use, protection, and decoration. Modesty isn't really a factor, not like we know it, and clothing and accessories aren't typically gendered.

The Huudzairen primarily influence fashion on the Alinay Steppe, where most of the first half of the story takes place. They're unicorn antelope centaurs, and at least the members of Ciraeg Miren really love sparkly things. All over the steppe, jeweled hooves and jingly, flashy anklets are common, both because they're pretty and because there's lots of snakes. Of course it's fun to also coordinate layered bracelets and flashy necklaces and decorations for their horns. Their fashions and clothes rely more on linens and wools and silks and other woven materials than fur or leathers or other animals products, though those aren't rare. They'll often wear elaborate woven belts and tops that drape over their shoulders, where their hair is thinnest and they're most likely to sunburn. They'll also wear drapes over their hindquarters, mostly for decoration. Their clothes are often heavily embroidered and jeweled, and you can typically identify a Ciraeg by the specific patterns and colors they use. People who are native to the steppe and have feet instead of hooves will usually wear sandals if they wear shoes at all.

Zaya's from Castravandt, which ranges from the edge of the steppe up through the Castravi mountains. She's specifically from the foothills, further south where it's warmer. Tattoos are very common, and they're both decorative and can identify people in different ways. Zaya has a tattoo on the side of her head that identifies her as ba hasur, which loosely means hero.

Dragon leather is common, and you can tan it the easy way, which loses most of the color, or you take make the time and effort to tan it in ways that preserve the color. Zaya has dragon skin boots that are brightly colored and elaborately patterned, and when she's hunting, she'll wear a lot of leather mostly to protect her. In her part of Castravandt, linens woven in bright patterns are common, and decorative clothes tend to be loose and flowing. As you get to different parts of the mountains, you'll find a lot more leather, fur, and wool. The leather can be different colors from dragons, or it could be more common leathers that have been dyed or painted and/or tooled.

Castravi people tend to have darker skin and long, pointed ears. Hats are common, both broad-brimmed hats to protect from the sun designed to protect their ears, too, and warmer fur hats also designed to accommodate their ears.

The Nyctine Mountains are very hostile, full of thorns and sharp rocks. The people there are (mostly) very isolated. Everyone wears not just shoes, but boots, and you won't see people barefoot or wearing sandals or even soft-soled slippers. The clothes are almost all leather and fur, and they cover more of your body than most other places for safety reasons. They tend toward lots of greens and browns, but people wear splashes of color that echo the local flowers, birds, and butterflies. Leather and wood are elaborately tooled and carved, and they accessorize a great deal with shells, feathers, bone, wood, and other natural materials. Most metal goods arrived by trade, and you won't see a lot of decorative items made from gold, silver, iron, bronze, copper, etc, as they typically value more practical metal items like knives. At least among the Kopaulinok Folk, who are the Padanche people who show up most in the story. I suspect the Chikehru Folk, whose territory is more in the foothills and who interact a lot with the Huuzairen, have a lot more decorative metal jewelry and a lot more jewels and precious stones.

The Loghani people live inside the Nyctine Mountains. When you meet a Loghani person outside their caves, they probably look pretty drab, with close-fitting clothes typically made of silks and linens. Inside their caves, though, the clothes and jewelry is bioluminescent or phosphorescent and delicately patterned.

Tsalta is a big, vertical coastal city and a thriving trade hub. You'll see fashions from all over the world there, and different trends easily appear, are absorbed, or quickly disappear. One thing that's consistent: all the colors. The city itself and the people there make everywhere else in the world look drab. There are lots of silks, including sea silk, which doesn't exist in our world. The merfolk make and trade it. Clothes are loose, layered, and dyed all sorts of colors, both solid and patterned. Lots of things are jeweled or sparkle, and tiny Tsaltich dragons, which are patterned more like butterflies than their typically solid-colored and larger cousins, are popular and beloved pets. It's safe and common to go barefoot in Tsalta, but you'll see lots of sandals and soft-soled slippers, too. Sandals are typically also bright and jeweled, and slippers are usually elaborately embroidered. Face and body paint is also super common.

Since Djaetyrot got erased, most of its fashions have also disappeared. You can see some echoes of it in places where there are still a lot of Djaetyli people, but those fashions got absorbed by the community around them. It's hard to say if those old fashions will come back and be embraced by the people who returned when/if Djaetryrot is restored or if they'll end up creating something new.

I've got vague ideas about some other locations, but I don't think they'll appear in the book, so I haven't really worked out those details. I kind of feel like I'll need to write more stories set in the world, even if none of the characters from the current story appear, just so I can explore more of it.

[xhemilbeharaj]

”U kërcënova se fola shqip”. Bebe Rexhës i ndalohet hyrja në avion, qan në aeroport (vidio)

Të qenurit shqiptar i ka hapur punë në Mynih këngëtares Bebe Rexha. Ngjarja është një skandal i paprecedentë. Këngëtarja shqiptare me famë botërore, Bebe Rexha është hasur me një bllokim në një nga fluturimet e kompanisë gjermane të fluturimit “Lufthansa”. Ajo është ndaluar agjenti i sigurimit të aeroplanit veçse i ka folur në gjuhën shqipe, duke menduar se ai ishte shqiptar. Rexha publikoi një…