crazy promo for Lanterns! out August 16th

The lanterns are lit, the New Year vibes are here—may your days be as bright as these festive glows! #SpringFestival

James Gunn exclusively revealed to ScreenRant that the reason Supergirl hits digital early is because of Lanterns. Any talk of box office underperformance is "nonsensical" the Co-CEO of DC Studios added.

I've heard Lanterns will have a dark turn for the DCU.

The narrow alley, adorned with greenery and small lanterns, offers a cozy and tranquil vibe. At its end lies a milk tea shop with a subtle sign that might be overlooked. 👕Delicious peach fruit salad

The lanterns are lit, mooncakes on plates – Mid-Autumn Festival vibes are warm and full of love, sending sweet wishes to you!

Faltam 41 dias para a estreia de #Lanterns

Hoi An Lanterns Watercolor Painting Original - Vietnam Wall Art, UNESCO Heritage town authenticbyclaire.etsy.com/l… #HoiAn #VietnamPainting #watercolor #wiseshopper

“Small blooms. Towering elegance.” (The flowers of the ‘Echeveria Set-Oliver’ succulent don’t bloom from the center. It sends up tall, arching flower stalks with bell-shaped flowers like tiny lanterns. The slender flower stalks can rise high, creating an architectural contrast.)

How Chinese artisans create lanterns for Cleveland Metroparks Zoo festival ift.tt/MiDRUeJ

thinking of girl dad chan and how he would paint the sun mural on his twin girls’ bedroom ceiling, hanging up two lanterns on each birthday, singing ‘i see the light’ to them each night before they fall asleep ❤️‍🩹

🍵 The Tea House opens today at 17:00 CET / 11:00 AM EST 🌸 The lanterns will be lit and a fresh cup of tea is waiting for you 🍃 Today: Spirittea Come sit with me 🍵🤍 twitch.tv/riyu_kazumi

The lanterns glow, the dumplings steam—Lunar New Year is here! Wishing you all joy, luck and sweet moments with your loved ones. ，

Man after lanterns drop all the hate gonna stop

The city disappeared behind them as the air bison rose above Fire Nation Capital, its broad tail swaying gently through the afternoon air. Below, the streets surrounding Fire Nation City Hall remained crowded with emergency wagons, White Lotus escorts, and journalists still broadcasting the aftermath of the Council's collapse. Brian's voice would soon reach every nation. Deaglan had already left it behind. Seated near the saddle, he unfolded a dispatch bearing the seal of his estate. Before leaving the capital, he had already sent an urgent order through the government's communication network. By now, his people would have begun searching every corner of Ember Island. For several minutes, only the steady rhythm of the air bison's wings broke the silence. At last, Deaglan lowered the report and spoke without looking away from the horizon. "I've instructed my people to search the entire island." Cynox glanced toward him. "The coastline?" "The coastline. The harbor. Every inn, every fishing village, every place where a traveler could disappear without drawing attention." Deaglan folded the letter neatly. "If Riven is still on Ember Island, someone will find him." "And if they don't?" Deaglan remained quiet for a moment. "...Then he never intended to stay." Neither of them spoke again until Ember Island emerged from the sea nearly two hours later. The familiar volcanic coastline stretched beneath them as Pippo descended toward the landing grounds near Deaglan's estate. Several guards were already waiting, accompanied by messengers bearing stacks of reports compiled throughout the afternoon. The moment Deaglan climbed down, one of the captains stepped forward and bowed. "Young Master Deaglan." "The report." The captain immediately handed him a leather folder. "Our search began shortly after sunrise. Patrols covered the eastern and western beaches, the harbor, the surrounding forests, and every road leading away from the estate." Another guard unrolled a large map across a nearby table. Colored markings covered nearly every district of the island. "We questioned fishermen returning from sea, merchants arriving by ferry, innkeepers, dock workers, travelers, and nearby residents." Deaglan studied every mark. "Any confirmed sightings?" The captain lowered his eyes. "No, Young Master.” Silence settled between them. "The only confirmed evidence remains the Spirit Water bottle recovered near the shoreline." Nothing else. No footprints. No witnesses. No trace of where Riven had gone. Deaglan spent the next several hours personally reviewing every report and checking the place himself. He questioned witnesses again, compared timelines, and verified locations himself rather than relying solely on written summaries. More than once, a promising lead dissolved into coincidence. The search continued until the last report had been reviewed. Every patrol had returned with the same answer. No confirmed sightings. No witnesses. No trail beyond the Spirit Water bottle recovered from the beach. The last officer finally closed his notebook. "We're sorry, Young Master." Deaglan gave a small nod. "Continue the search." "Expand it beyond the island if necessary." "Yes, Young Master." By the time the final officer departed, the sun had already begun sinking toward the western sea. Deaglan remained standing in silence before finally turning toward the manor. "Come with me." Cynox followed without asking where they were going. The corridors of the estate were unusually quiet. Servants stepped aside respectfully as Deaglan climbed the staircase leading toward the private guest quarters. He stopped before a familiar wooden door, hesitated for only a moment, then pushed it open. The room looked exactly as it had the last time its occupant had used it. Books remained stacked beside the bed. A half-finished sketch rested beneath a paperweight near the window. Nothing appeared disturbed, as though Riven had simply stepped outside with every intention of returning. Deaglan walked past the bedroom and opened another door. "The bathroom?" Cynox asked. Deaglan nodded. He reached toward a wooden peg fixed to the wall. Hanging there was a set of Air Nomad robes. Well-worn, still perfectly folded after washing. "I found these the night after he disappeared," Deaglan said quietly. "He left without them." Cynox stared for several seconds before slowly stepping closer. His expression softened almost immediately. "...These are his robes." "You recognize them?" "I do." He gently touched the sleeve, careful not to disturb it. "He always complained they were getting too small." A faint smile escaped him. “I told him to ask for a new set, but he never did.” Deaglan remained silent. "He took the clothes I gave him," he said at last, "but left these behind." Cynox nodded thoughtfully. "That means he wasn't planning to come back here." Deaglan looked toward the robes. "Or..." He paused. "...he didn't want anyone waiting for him to think he'd forgotten them." For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The room still carried the quiet familiarity of someone who had been there. Yet every object inside now felt like a memory. At last, Deaglan closed the bathroom door. "Cynox..." The Air Nomad looked up. "Where exactly did Riven come from?" "I..." He scratched the back of his head, smiling embarrassedly. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure." Deaglan raised an eyebrow. "You trained together." "We did," Cynox admitted with a small, awkward laugh. "But Air Nomads don't really introduce themselves by hometown." He thought for a moment. "I remember Master Cyandra mentioning it once. She said Riven's village was somewhere around the Taihua Mountains." He frowned, trying to recall the details. "I think... somewhere near the Northern Air Temple." Deaglan's gaze shifted toward the window, where the last light of evening had begun to fade beyond the sea. "Then," he said quietly, "that's where we'll start." Night had already fallen by the time Pippo left Ember Island once more. The journey to the Northern Air Temple would take more than seventeen hours, carrying them across nearly the entire eastern half of the world. Unlike the short flight from the Fire Nation Capital earlier that afternoon, this was a true long-distance journey, one even a sky bison could not shorten. Wrapped in heavy traveling cloaks against the bitter mountain winds awaiting them farther north, Deaglan and Cynox settled into the broad saddle as Pippo climbed steadily above the clouds. Below them, Ember Island gradually disappeared into darkness until even the lights along the coastline became distant specks swallowed by the sea. The first hours passed in silence. The moon rose high overhead, painting the endless ocean silver as Pippo followed ancient air routes Air Nomads had traveled for centuries. Occasionally, the great air bison let out a deep, contented rumble before continuing onward, never slowing, never straying from the invisible path its instincts knew by heart. Sometime after midnight, they crossed the narrow stretch separating the Fire Nation from the Earth Kingdom. The sea gave way to rugged coastlines, winding rivers, and sleeping villages whose lanterns looked no larger than scattered stars across the land. Farther inland, forests stretched endlessly beneath drifting clouds, broken only by mountain ranges rising like dark silhouettes against the night sky. Neither man felt compelled to speak. The silence carried no awkwardness. It belonged naturally to the journey. Only when the moon had begun its slow descent toward the western horizon did Cynox finally break it. "You asked where Riven came from." Deaglan looked over from where he had been quietly watching the passing landscape. "I've been thinking about it." A faint smile crossed Cynox's face before he turned his eyes back toward the stars. "You know... Air Nomads disappear differently from everyone else." Deaglan waited. "We don't usually run." The wind caught Cynox's hair as Pippo glided through another bank of clouds. "We drift." For a while, neither of them said anything more. Then Cynox continued, "When an Air Nomad leaves, it usually isn't because they're trying to escape." His voice remained quiet, almost thoughtful. "It's because they believe staying would only hold someone else back." Deaglan listened without interrupting. "We don't like saying goodbye." "Why?" A soft laugh escaped Cynox. "Because goodbyes make people follow." He rested one hand against Pippo's thick fur, absentmindedly brushing it as the sky bison continued its steady flight. "Sometimes the kindest thing an Air Nomad believes they can do..." He paused. "...is leaving quietly." The conversation ended there. The rest of the journey passed in comfortable silence as night slowly gave way to dawn. By early morning, snow-covered peaks began piercing the cloud layer below. The air grew noticeably colder, carrying the crisp scent of pine and fresh mountain snow. Rivers carved through deep valleys below, and waterfalls shimmered in the first rays of sunlight. As the sun finally crested the eastern horizon, the Taihua Mountains came into full view. Ancient stone bridges stretched between towering cliffs, prayer flags danced freely in the morning wind, and temples carved into the mountainside emerged from the mist as if they had always belonged to the clouds. Nestled among those peaks stood the Northern Air Temple, serene and untouched by the chaos that had erupted inside Fire Nation City Hall just a day earlier. Pippo let out a low bellow as he circled toward the landing platform. Deaglan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the weathered stone buildings below. If Riven had truly come here, then somewhere within those ancient halls, someone had seen him. Whether they could still follow his trail... Remained to be seen.