#serhan

[serhansert8]

Serhan Sertdemir is a successful 3x Founder, investor and motivational speaker. Discover more about Serhan Sertdemir by visiting his website.

[clarkkantagain]

brennan aldred and rashad serhan in pet shop boys loneliness dir. alasdair mcclellan

[ratatoskryggdrasil]

Serhan & Murat

[garadinervi]

Mai Serhan (مي سرحان), "What Is This Palestine, Anyway?": Two Second-Generation Palestinian American Women Negotiate Roots and Routes, «Journal of Palestine Studies», Volume 52, No. 4, 2023, pp. 53-64 (text and pdf here) [Institute for Palestine Studies, Beirut]

[nastasyafilippovnas]

Now, when Neslihan said “what happened to suffering for love”, did she mean Asi or Rüya?

[sab-teraa]

I TOLD YALL ALAZ WOULD NEVER CHEAT!!!! He is a romantic! Doesn’t matter the status of the relationship!!! He will stay loyal!!! Exactly! Exactly!!

[weirdpexels]

Photo by Jannet Serhan

[billkill]

Uzay, Ates ve ogullari.

Çocuğun biyolojik babası Ateş, taşıyıcı annesi Alara.....uzayın genlerine güvenmiyoruz. O yüzden biyolojik babanın Ateş olmasına karar verdik..

[brother-genitivi]

crying sobbing throwing up bless you modder MorningAngel for giving us wonderful hairstyles bc LOOOOOOOOK

mods used in screenshot: 1 2 3 4

[yzareenxiv]

Owner of a Lonely Heart

The end of winter, the Winter Solstice, her suppressed time of heat, the freezing winds of the First Umbral Moon and the celebration of love that occurred during it, all of that had passed with Zareen living two- no, tell it true, three lives.

The main life, the good life, was in the here-and-now. Watching Sarang and Ravi and Mede and Terbish and Nekhi grow, visiting with her friends and family, her carefully crafted tribe, and watching as they welcome their own children and grow and change and endure their struggles and growth. In this life, she smiles, she laughs, she loves as fiercely as she can, she dances and sings. It is a good life.

But it is a lonely life. She is surrounded by love, this is true. But she cannot help but feel the ache in her heart- the locked and barred connection in her soul that will never again be opened, the emptiness of the place that has held one, then another, then another, sometimes more than one at the same time, sometimes a single precious presence. It’s so terribly scarred, that part of her, damaged to the point where it is a jagged hole, surrounded by sharp edges and broken pieces that could too-easily pierce or tear at that unwary. She hides it well- after all, the rest of her life is fulfilling in ways she had stopped even dreaming it could be. But it’s there… and sometimes it aches and fills her with a hunger that has turned on itself, sinking sharp fangs into itself and singing in agonized and joyous screams as the venom races and burns through her veins.

That is the second life. The life of blood, the life of the Hunt, the life of chasing down whatever prey she can find- with or without someone at her side- and bleeding it, tormenting it, terrifying it past the point of fear into blindness and then descending upon it as a vengeful, reckless, terrifying creature whose humanity has been shredded away just as the hide of it’s prey has been. She eats of hearts and livers, she bathes in blood, she slips through the minds and souls as a mad goddess to bring ecstasies of agony until the very last moment of consciousness.

Innocent beasts do not interest her in this, though she will hunt them to protect her private sanctuaries and the people in the village that she retreats to sometimes. This second life is reserved for those the Sin Eater marks. Those that the bounty bills mark. Those that the Void has marked. They are shown the Jaguar with her heart turned inside-out and all those jagged edges pointed out to devour flesh and sorrow and too-late-repentance and finally, sometimes, the soul. She is not so twisted that she drinks in opposition to her laws as Sin Eater- but she also will forego a lesser prey for one that she knows she can keep back from the River in justice.

Those are the two lives she lives in the world. In the here-and-now. In the place of flesh and blood, laughter and sorrow, where the sun rises and sets and the moon rises and sets and the stars glitter.

The third life is the secret life. The third life is in her mind, though at times it bleeds through in nightmares and flashbacks that steal her breath or her attention during the day until she realizes she’s being looked at or spoken to and can escape back into the first life. The third life is the Labyrinth, where she has yet to find the door yet can spy through more and more cracks and crumbling walls. Never yet has there been a hole wide enough to step through and she is grateful for that for she knows herself- if she sees it, it will torment her curiosity until she tries to cheat her way into ‘just dipping a toe’ and perhaps losing herself altogether. For this reason, too, she does not seek the door too fervently. There is more than enough to see. She remembers, now, in a strange and detached way, that when she fell into the Void she was brought to a palace, a realm inside the Void that seemed enormous and always at war with it’s neighbors. Her time, she knows now, was roughly split into interminable eras: First, she was an animal, a beast used to hunt and harry prey at the whim of beings she could not understand. She fell into this role too-easily at first, until pride returned, and with it reason and knowledge. She began to learn the language of her masters, listening, always listening, and planning, her cleverness against their complacency. Second, she was a slave. A step above a beast, living in the palatial estates of whichever being held her metaphorical leash. That was the worst time, the time she endured the most, the time she moved from master to mistress to master, a living creature to twist and bend and use in whatever manner they wished for she was so easy to heal. As a slave, she learned of the transactional nature of the Void. As a slave, she learned survival in ways she had not had to learn upon the Source. As a slave, she had found her limits and been forced past them once she had been lifted to serve the nobility and been subjected to their unique and exquisite cruelties. They knew what she was, saw her too-clearly, and she suffered. Third, a servant. As she had suffered, she’d learned. As she’d learned, she’d begun to make impressions. As she’d made impressions, she’d learned more. Her speech became refined, her keen huntress mind now stalking the halls of the body politic. She learned the art of subtlety, of flattery and lies and inner machinations. Of hiding behind lowered eyes and a smooth tongue and watching obliquely as her suggestions became her master’s ideas and were carried through into successes and failures. At last, in a moment of boldness that could have been her undoing, she’d struck. Fourth, a noble- a position stolen just as the natives of the Void always stole them from each other. She walked the halls a different woman, a spy, breaking shackles in secret and laying in place plots and plans and traps with a delicate skill while wielding power ruthlessly and perpetuating the same agonies upon others that she remembered suffering herself. This was the worst to remember, this was the best to remember. These memories held the Zareen of the here-and-now entranced sometimes as she watched a woman that was herself but not herself- a twin… no, a doppelganger- move through that world in ways that Zareen herself had never mastered in this life.

She didn’t realize that as the memories surfaced, so too did some of the elements of that otherself. Moments where she would gain an aloof mein, calling to naughty children with the imperious tone of royalty that brooks no disobedience. Moments of silence where she found herself watching people in the cities and identifying them effortlessly as greater powers and lesser, simply knowing what she should do to ingratiate herself and make ally or crush enemy. There were the bad moments, too, of course. The moments of slavery, of being the hunting beast, of being the victim of torments. A barking laugh while she waited for her turn in one of the fighting pits reminding her of the Houndmaster… that had ended in her being pulled from the still body of her opponent and banned for a moon for acts she truly could not remember. She’d visited a brothel once, seeking to ease the ache in her loins and the itch in her skin for violent delights, but glimpsing a ham-fisted fool and a whore merely acting the part had made her so ill she’d rushed from the place and been violently sick. Which isn’t to say that the submissive who craved the darker side of sex and mastery was gone- truth being that she wanted it even more. Once she’d had a taste of too-far, she ached in a true and physical way sometimes to come close to it again. A private ache that she endured as the one she trusted to fulfill her desires, who enjoyed fulfilling her desires, wrestled with himself.

Three lives. One woman. Zareen knew something was going to give, eventually- those moments of slippage would likely get worse, or more frequent. Or the Labyrinth would seal itself away again and she would lose access to a part of herself that she wanted to know and understand despite the risks. Or the jagged part of her heart would start to devour the joy that she found in her first life- or cause her to become addicted.

She couldn’t help herself, it seemed. One way or another, she was always back to dancing on the edge of the blade, keeping time with whirling dervishes of song that flung her back and forth, leaping and landing on her toes with every beat of her heart a beat of the drum.

[yesilhaber]

İklim krizinin yarattığı yeni tehlike: İstilacı türler

Avrupa Birliği (AB) kaynakları tarafından yayınlanan akademik bir makalede istilacı türlerin Avrupa Birliği’ne (AB) ekonomik maliyetinin yaklaşık 148 milyar dolara ulaşacağı hesaplandı. İklim Masası’nın duyurduğu çalışmaya göre, istilacı türlerin gözlemlenen maliyeti 28 milyar dolar seviyesindeyken, önümüzdeki yıllarda hem bu türlerin popülasyonlarının hem de sebep olacakları zararın katlanarak…

[bernamegeh]

Serhan Asker Kimdir Hayatı

Serhan Asker, 1974 yılında Hatay’da dünyaya geldi. İlk, orta ve lise öğrenimini Gaziantep’te tamamladı. Ankara Üniversitesi İletişim Fakültesi Gazetecilik Bölümünü bitirdikten sonra Almanya’da siyaset muhabirliği dalında master yaptı. Gazeteciliğe 1995 senesinde Milliyet gazetesinde başladı. 2000 senesinde TRT Haber ve Spor Yayınları Dairesi Başkanlığında politika muhabiri olarak televizyon…

[ratatoskryggdrasil]

Serhan & Murat

[cemyafilmarsiv]

Cemil Şov (Barış Sarhan)

[nastasyafilippovnas]

Güven really just declared his feelings for Neslihan even though he has a pregnant wife at home?! WTF.

[darkyayincilik]

İnmenin belirtileri nelerdir?

İnme, damar tıkanıklığı ya da kanama nedeni ile ortaya çıkan, ani gelişen belirti ve bulgulara verilen isimdir. Halk arasında “felç” olarak bilinir. Kocaeli Şehir Hastanesi’nde görevli Nöroloji hekimi Uzm. Dr. Serhan Yıldırım konuya ilişkin önemli bilgilendirmelerde bulundu. İNME (FELÇ) NEDİR? İnmenin dünyada en çok karşılaşılan üçüncü ölüm sebebi olduğunun altını çizen Dr. Yıldırım “İnme aynı…