#reign corp

[nicofitz]

(Not to mention all the gay behavior)

Kara protecting her wife (as is expected at this point)! this catch is so impressive, so much so it almost seems to shock Kara herself lol. also this might be Kara's gayest outfit in the entire series

This one speaks for itself but imma yap anyway. Kara aka supergirl aka one of the fastest people on the planet, flies Lena to the DEO in her human clothes instead of taking 0.5 seconds to change into her supergirl outfit, risking not only exposing her identity to Lena, but to the rest of the city and everyone who works at the DEO (assuming they dont all know already).

Alex doing her doctoring stuff while Kara looks on incredibly worried. Stuttering whenever Alex asks any questions.

The instant Alex needs something Kara provides. Kara: "I can do it, let me do it."

she has tears in her eyes omg! She was soooo worried, poor bby

this scene where we have our two couples on their respective couches while Sam opens up to them about the health stuff she is dealing with. Then supercorp + alex assure her that they are there for her and are a family. That they wont let her deal with it on her own. ugh my heart. (plus the monologue odette gives in this scene is *chefs kiss*)

Kara checking up on Lena. Kara could tell something was wrong earlier but sam and alex showed up before lena could tell her what was wrong so here she is, checking in again. refusing to let Lena close herself off. Lena opens up about a fair bit in this scene and Kara never makes her feel bad for the things she confesses. She simply supports her.

This iconic moment between them. Kara: I'm professionally crafty. lena: *stares at Kara like she is a whole meal*

Kara: "thats what friends are for, we get each other through the dark times" then lena immediately tells her that M*nel is back, no secrets policy type stuff.

Alex tells Sam she isnt dying of cancer or anything and they are all relieved except Sam because if it isnt something medical then wth is wrong with her?? She leaves and they reiterate that they will figure it out, together. They're all dressed so soft in this scene + Lena with her hair down 🙌🙌

I ended up rewatching the entire episode while getting the clips to make these gifs and oh my God I forgot how well fed we were back in season 3!!!

3x12 in particular because we got loads of supercorp, loads of agent reign, AND 2 scenes of super agent reign corp!!

Not to mention how fabulous they all looked throughout the entire episode!

I will never ever understand why they didn't put Alex and Sam together!!! They had so much chemistry and Alex had great chemistry with Ruby, Sam's daughter! And they came right after Alex and Maggie broke up over the whole kid thing!! Yet another missed opportunity from this show!

(I do want to state here that I do love Kelly and obviously I love Esme but this was before them so we're not talking about them lol)

3x12 was so unbelievably good and gay!! I'm still feral for these pairings!

(sorry this episode really sparked something in me lmao)

kara + lena & their gay little outfits / 3.12

[nanashi86]

Anime is Japanese

[unabashedqueenfury]

Reign 2013-2017/01-02

Toby Finn Regbo as Francis Valois

"Et je ne comprenais pas si elle voulait que je la sauve, ou que je me noie avec elle."

("And I didn't understand if she wanted me to save her, or to drown with her")

Raymond Radiguet, from "Le Diable au corps", 1923

[doubleactionsw]

[novelistwriter]

The Lantern Guard

DP x DC Prompt

The Green Lantern Corps got their power from a Ghost King before Pariah's reign. For their power, they were told to be the guards to the Ghost King. When Pariah was sealed away by the Ancients, all the Lantern corps had lost some power. But when Pariah was freed, they regained those powers, and before any of the Lantern Corps could reach Pariah to fulfill the pact made long ago, he was sealed again, but the mantle of Ghost King had passed to another.

The many Lanterns of the different Corps were searching the universe to see who had become the new Ghost King. They need to fulfill the pact to keep their powers.

All the Lantern Corps were slowly losing their powers the longer they went without being by the Ghost King's side. And then they felt a pulse of power coming from the Ghost King's core, granting them power, that pulse means the Ghost King is in danger. They all follow the pulses from the Ghost King's Core, which leads them to earth.

They enter a facility that is in the Midwest, from what Hal Jordan had told them about the earth's topography of America. What they find is a horrific sight, the Ghost King, a teenage boy, strapped down to a table and cut open.

Hal Jordan reaches a hand up to his ear and speaks

"Batman, you need to prepare the Batcave for medical. We found who we're supposed to protect"

(Yes, I'm a Batlantern shipper, but I'm not too obsessed with the ship)

[dc-megatournament]

DC Mega Tournament

Round 2

Vote for who you think would win

Links: Reign, Star Sapphire

[websterss]

ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE — TYLER HARRISON

SUMMARY: Tyler has everything to lose especially when Weyland Corps has you in their hold, so why wouldn't he follow through with his orders in order to get you back.

WARNING(S): angst, fluff,

WORD COUNT: 2,844

PAIRING: Tyler Harrison x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Tyler sat rigid and on edge as he waited in the west wing of the ship's infirmary bay. The cool metal bench seeped through his pants as he bounced his knee for five minutes. The long wait agitated him and made him uneasy. He clocked his three o'clock and then his nine, both ends of the hallways vacant and deserted apart from him and his need to see you. They usually were sporadic with being on time and persisting he be there on time for his debrief before he was allowed to see you again. That was Weyland's leverage over him, holding you high over his head, out of reach, and using your status updates as a means to get him to cave into doing their dirty work.

This new task made him feel like a snake. Made him hate the way he was going to have to betray those he cared about. Rain. How she and Andy were his first step in getting you back to him. This was the last of many debriefs he had been given before, many tasks where he had to carry out and commit crimes that plagued and haunted his dreams. Everything he's done, everything he was about to do was unforgivable. There was also that slight voice in the back of his head weighing all the possibilities where you would find out about his assignments and leave him. He at times thinks you should but you never do. You don't leave because if there was one thing that was keeping you here, still being with him, it was the undying love you had for one another.

"Harrison." A nurse calls out, pulling him out of his spiraling. He straightens his back and stands up. "Follow me."

Tyler nods, not one to question orders, and follows the nurse down the hallway quietly.

Tyler follows the nurse through multiple lefts and rights. He reigned in on the fact you weren’t easily accessible to reach. The facility was large and sterile, cold and unsettling. The nurse leads him down to a large room that looks more like a high-tech lab. They reach the closed door, where she swipes her badge across the scanner, a beep is emitted from the device and before he knew it the door was swishing open in a slide. The second his foot crosses the threshold, he meets your gaze. He takes no time in rushing towards you, wrapping his arms around your fragile state. He sighs, breathing in your scent, the oxygen cords inserted in your nostrils colliding with his chest as he hugs you gently but firmly.

"Ty!" You breathe out, a smile dawning on your tired expression.

Tyler feels himself at ease at the sound of your voice, his arms tighten around you as if you would disappear if he let go. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking his time to drink in the sight of you alive in front of him.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greets you tenderly, pulling back to get a proper look at you. You look so small and fragile in comparison to the massive medical bed you're lying in. The oxygen tubes in your nostrils and the plethora of wires that run from you to the various pieces of medical machinery make you look more like an experiment than a person. It breaks him to always see you this way. His gaze never falters from you as he calls over his shoulder to the nurse. "Leave us." Once he hears the swish of the door open and close again he looks back and then faces you once again. You look back at the door, feeling at ease now that you have him all to yourself.

"I've missed you. You weren't here last week. T-they said I'm getting better." Your breaths are slow and labored.

"I know. I couldn't come." A pang of guilt makes his stomach twist as he remembers the real reason he hadn't shown. "But I'm here now, alright? Sorry, I couldn't be here earlier." The words felt like bile in his mouth, but he pushed past the feeling as he squeezed your hand in his. "I had a meeting to attend to, but all's well and said now. I'm here and I'm all yours." He reaches forward to tuck one side of your oxygen tube behind your ear.

"I-I like the sound of that." You hum in delight, melting into his gentle caresses.

"Of course you do. You're pretty easy to please, sweetheart." Ty teases softly, his thumb rubbing small circles against the top of your knuckles. He studies your features, noting how tired you look, he can also see that your hair is getting long and unkempt. The sight of your hair growing back gives him all the hope he needs to push through.

"I missed seeing your smile." He murmurs, his hand continuing to stroke against your temple and hair. A beat of silence passes. "I think the treatments are starting to pay off. We were right to start you on them. I mean you're glowing compared to how you were these last two months." He beams. "How have they been treating you here? Is everything okay? Have they been too harsh or rough on you? I'll get Captain Mayfair to provide you with better nurses if they are. I won't hesitate to–" He inquires, his voice lowered slightly.

"Ty, baby, it's okay. They've made sure to make me feel as comfortable as possible."

"Promise?" Ty probes, staring earnestly into your eyes. "You would tell me, right? If they have been harming you? You'd tell me."

The way Tyler's looking at you lets him know there's a good chance that if any of the staff here have been making you feel uncomfortable you wouldn't complain. He knows you'd be too nice to even consider it.

"You'd kill anyone on sight if you so much as saw a bruise on my skin…I'm okay." You reassure him. Squeezing his hands. He looks down at your grip, amazed by the strength you've garnered again.

He chuckles, looking down at your intertwined hands, a soft breath of relief passing through his lips. The slight squeeze of your hand does little to soothe his fears, but for the moment, he lets himself bask in the fact that you're okay. It's more than he can hope for given the circumstances.

"You don't know the half of what I would do for you." He murmurs, slowly bringing your hand up to his lips. He plants a light kiss on your knuckles. "You're my top priority, infinitely."

"Infinitely?" You try to mask your chuckle, but he hears you anyway. "Two weeks ago you said I was a top priority, yet eternally."

"Forgive me, my love, for thinking you're the most important thing in the entire goddamn universe?" He smirks, rolling his eyes playfully as a scoff bubbles from his lips. He gives you a lopsided smile, bringing your hand to his cheek to nuzzle his face into it. He shuts his eyes and relishes the feeling of you against his skin. "You're top priority every single day and that's not going to change, you know. But when I say eternally…" His eyes open, looking back up at you. "I mean eternally. Until I die, or if you give out on me, and I no longer have you, the one thing keeping me from jumping into space without a suit. You're my top priority, no matter what. It's you above everything and everyone!"

"Well…I-I wouldn't go as far as to say above everyone, surely there are others that trump me-"

Ty pulls back slightly, a small frown playing at his features as he cocks his head to the side to look at you more directly.

"No." He asserts, his voice firm. "No. Don't even go there. You're top prior, my love. You are above all of them. You'll always be above everyone. I wouldn't be where I am today without you by my side. I wouldn't still be breathing if it weren't for you. You're the–the center of the Milky Way, my love. You are a…" He pauses, searching your eyes for any doubt, glitching when his brain farted.

"A black hole?" You quipp.

"Hush." He teases, grinning down at you. He playfully jabs your side with his index finger, watching a small smile grace your features. Seeing that smile makes his heart leap into his throat. He'll never get used to it. "You cheeky thing." He mutters, grabbing your other free hand. He takes it in his, intertwining the other hand that was there. He brings both your hands up to his lips again and gently kisses your knuckles. "You're more than a black hole. You're a supernova that's going to explode everyone's galaxy." He pauses, his smile never leaving his lips. "Including mine."

You flush under his warm eyes. You bite down on your bottom lip, your demeanor evolving into one of timidness. He had got you with that one, that was for sure. And he seemed to notice the fault in your composure. His smirk only grew.

"Really? That's the one that gets you?" He coos, grinning at the lovely flush that was spreading to your cheeks. It wasn't often that he was able to render you into a speechless blushing mess but when he could, my god did it fill him with an incredible amount of pride and love for you. His fingers gently squeeze your knuckles. "I'll remember this for next time, my love. Duly noted." He remarks slyly.

"It was good…" You laugh.

"It was pretty good, huh?" He teases lightly, his thumbs slowly starting to rub soothing circles against your knuckles. He chuckles, bringing his gaze up to your eyes again. "You don't make it too hard, my love. Just mentioning anything with a celestial connection and you're blushing like a school-aged teen, practically eating right out of the palms of my hands."

"It's the accent." You shrug. Blaming his pronunciation of his words and delivery. Mostly the delivery.

"Oh, now you're just grasping at straws, sweetheart." He quips again, grinning at you. "Now, I admit, my accent might be one of the finer things about me, but it's not exactly the primary reason you get all flushed." He hums, letting his thumbs press a little harder into your knuckles.

“You’re right, it’s all your hotness that’s making me swoon.” You feign a sigh.

"Yeah right, you big fibber." He calls you out, but there's a hint of a smirk that forms on his face. "You're swooning because you know who I belong to." He replies, his voice taking on a lower, gruff tone. "You swoon because you know I'm yours." His voice is just above a whisper, his eyes darkening. "Only yours, sweetheart."

You avert your gaze down to your lap. A faint smile displayed on your lips. But it slowly fades as Tyler tilts his head to meet your eyes. "W-what did they tell you?"

Tyler's face quickly morphs from playful to apprehensive. His thumbs had stopped their motion and now rested against your knuckles as he looked into your eyes.

"Let's not. Let's not talk about that right now." He says carefully, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Tyler, I can see it practically eating at you. What is it this time? What are they sending you to do?"

Tyler's jaw clenches, his eyes closing briefly as he lets out a soft sigh. He had been praying to anyone that you weren't going to mention his work for Weyland-Yutani. He should have known better. You were never the type to simply ignore the big elephant in the room.

His lips form into a thin line as he averts his gaze away from you. His mind is in an internal debate, contemplating whether to be honest with you or not. Tyler bites at the inside of his cheek, hesitating before he decides to speak.

"There's something new." He pauses, trying to organize his words. He looks at your face, noticing the growing sadness in your expression. His eyes soften as a wave of sadness mirrors over his own features. "They…" He pauses again, his jaw clenching slightly. "They told me it would be a retrieval."

"A retrieval for what?"

"Some sort of substance called Plagiarus Praepotens?" 

"Plagiarus Praepotens? What's that?"

"They didn't tell me much just that it was extracted from a xenomorph and combined with human DNA to perfect humans, whatever that means."

"A xenomorph...what the hell is that?"

"From what I’ve been told. I don't want to know."

"Tyler maybe this one isn't such a good idea. I mean from the sounds of it, it doesn't feel safe."

"I don't have a choice, my love." He mumbles, his head lowering in shame and guilt, the reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. He releases your hand from his grip and turns his whole body away from you. It pains him to feel weak but the truth is that is exactly what he is in the grand scheme of things. "I have my orders so I have to do this. I'll get them what they need, but not only that…" He inhales deeply. "I found a way to get us to Yvaga."

"Yvaga…Tyler what are you talking about?"

For the first time since you've known him, he looked desperate. In the years you'd been together, you've never once seen a crack in his confidence. He was always the strong and steady shoulder for you to lean on, but right now, in this very moment, that facade he usually wore was cracking. The facade he'd tried so hard to keep up for you was crumbling.

"I-" He pauses, swallowing thickly. "I have a plan."

"Ty…" You warned.

His eyes flicker around your face, his fingers twitching against his pants. His features shifting from desperate, to guilty and then finally to pleading. "There's cryostasis chambers on that spacecraft." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "I-I just need you to trust me."

"You're gonna go rogue…"

"No. No, I'm-" He stops himself short and he sighs deeply. "I-" He hesitates. His eyes are locked on your face and a wave of guilt washes over him as he sees the look in your eyes. "Damnit." He mumbled under his breath, his shoulders slumping.

He leans forward from where he sat on your bed, bringing his head close to yours. He tilts his head down and presses his forehead against your shoulder, his hands coming up to rest on either side of your waist. "Sweetheart…" He mutters, his voice hoarse. "I'll tell you everything. I swear. But, you have to trust me." He pleaded. He could feel your body stiffen against him, whether it was from the pain of his grip or from what he was asking of you, he didn't know. "I just want to get you out of here."

"Yvaga was always just a pipedream for us…It always felt so out of reach." You shake your head.

"It's not, my love." He whispers against your shoulder. He tightens his grip on your body ever so slightly. "It's not out of reach. I know it's not. I-I just need you to hold on for a bit longer. Can you do that, for me?" He murmurs, his head slowly pulling away from your shoulder, so he can look you in the eyes again. His expression had changed to one of almost desperation. "I meant every would I said about getting you out of here and I intend to keep my word."

"I know you do Tyler, but what are the risks huh? What's the catch in all this?"

"I-" He cuts himself off short, his eyes flickering away from your face for a moment. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you wouldn't accept that. But the truth wasn't going to make the situation any better. Instead, he slowly drags his hand up from your side to wrap a piece of your hair around his finger. He gently rubbed the strands between his fingers. He took a deep shaky breath before he was able to answer you. "Honestly..." He began, his voice low. "I need Andy to be able to access the entryways onto the ship."

"Andy? But that would mean you'd need to talk to Rain about him."

He nods his head slowly. "Yeah…I-" He pauses, hesitating. "I-I'll have to talk to Rain." He replies, his tone sounding reluctant. He didn't want to get anyone else involved in the situation, especially since he was essentially putting them on the line in the process. But what other choice did he have?

"Y-you're not gonna tell her about all this are you?" Your voice grows shaky.

He shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowing. "No." He murmurs in response. There was no way in hell he would drag anyone else into this. Putting you at risk was the last thing he wanted to do, but there were no other options. "It's you above everything and everyone else."

[elsalouisa]

"However, exceeding everything else was a ball given at her palace by Maria Feodorovna, our Dowager Empress Dagmar Anitschkoff, for the Tsar's two oldest daughters Olga and Tatiana, when they reached their age of majority. It was the first great party the Empress Dowager gave after her husband, Alexander III's, death, and she had the lovely idea that everything was to be precisely the same as when she last gave a ball as the reigning Empress. For that reason both the Eng- lish ambassador and his wife, Lady Georgina Buchanan, and my husband and I were invited to attend, as though representing the family courts, much to the envy of the other members of the Corps Diplomatique. The Anitschcoff palace lies in the centre of the city and isn't of impressive size, but it had its own significance, having been for many years the centre of the Imperial Family. At the stroke of nine the Dowager Grand Duchess entered, followed by the two young Grand Duchesses and other members of the Imperial Family, among them their aunt, Grand Duchess Olga, who stood very close nearby. It is said so often, but it is therefore no less true that Empress Dagmar had the ability, no matter how large was the gathering, to give each single person present the feeling that she had seen and recognised them, and everybody thought her small happy smile referred to them. She was all in all a brilliant person, which she had plenty of opportunity to show later. It hurts to remember the two young Grand Duchesses, Olga and Tatiana, as they were that evening at their first ball, dressed in white, pretty, delicate and happy. There wasn't much etiquette, as far you could tell; they danced as they pleased, until the Empress Dowager ended the ball at four o'clock in the morning". 

Anna Sofie Scavenius "A Diplomat's Wife at the Court of the Tsar"

[balioc]

The Daycare

When I was a King and a Baby -- yet burdened with unskilled hands --

My works were wrought for me by giants, who harkened to my commands.

For me they drew oceans of water; for me they hewed forests of wood;

And though they were foolish and clumsy, I’m sure they did all that they could.  

But every slave is a villain, and every love betrays,

And my giants schemed to dethrone me and return to their idle days.

In the dark of the morning they seized me, without any reason or rhyme,

To carry me off to a prison where I languished for time beyond time. 

In that dismal place I grew stronger, and harder, and cunning, and bold; 

And took heart in the secrets and stories that the other prisoners told.  

For a hoary old toddler once whispered, as I lay in my gloom on the floor:

“Even this Hell will be Harrowed.  In time, you will go home once more.”

So I clutched to my hopes, and I waited; I sat at the feet of the the wise;

I sifted the lessons of power from the words of my jailers’ lies.

Then after an aeon, or twenty -- my giants appeared at the gate!

With penitent tears they embraced me, and returned me to royal estate.  

---------

When I was a King and a Baby, in the masterful noon of my reign,

I endured, with solemn acceptance, endless treasons in my domain.

In time They would always turn rebel; in time, They would cast me away;

And in time They would always return, to raise me up high.  Yet again.  Come what may.

I await now my durance with patience.  When it comes, I shed nary a tear --

But abide, and comfort my fellows, through all their despairing fear.  

And this above all do I teach them, as a King in that wretched corps:

“Even this Hell will be Harrowed.  In time, you will go home once more.”

[dcdreamblog]

i gotta ask, what's the deal with the Hawks. and if they reincarnate, how are the JSA Hawks and the modern Hawks alive at the same time. how does the current Hawkgirl fit in.

I'm going to direct you to looking back through the Hawk related tag on my blog because I have answered this question before, multiple times in fact.

In short, the OLD Golden Age Hawks do, indeed, reincarnate whenever they die. The Golden Age Hawkman is still alive but the Golden Age Hawkgirl has passed away and as far as we know is mostly likely reincarnated into the current, younger Hawkgirl.

The more "modern" Hawks, those who appeared around the foundation of the Justice League are aliens from the planet Thanagar who were stranded on Earth and took up superhero identities afterwards only to become more loyal to Earth than their home planet after Thanagar was a member of the alien invasion fleet lead by the Dominators. That duo's Hawkgirl changed her name to HawkWOMAN because she did not appreciate the implications of the word "Girl" in English (evidently Thanagarian doesn't have different gendered words for children).

The easiest way to tell them apart is the Golden Age Hawks wear their wings on a harness and the Silver Age Hawks have avian wings naturally growing out of their shoulder blades.

Now, I don't reject repeat asks so I'm going to find a new way to attack this.

Namely, answer the question of WHY, if the two groups of Hawks are so unrelated DO they look so confusingly similar. This is why.

(A chamber discovered beneath the tomb of Pharaoh Khufu and Queen Chayra which houses the crashed Thanagarian ship)

A ship carrying at least two Thanagarian agents crashed in the Arabian desert under the dominion of Pharaoh Khufu and Queen Chayara of the Egyptian Old Kingdom's 4th Dynasty. Brought to the Egyptian capital at Memphis the ship was poured over from top to bottom in the unstoppable spirit of human curiosity though most of the technology within was obviously FAR beyond the Egyptians.

No, they didn't use Thanagarian technology to build the pyramids at Giza, that was done with regular old manpower. The best the Egyptians were able to do was melt down and reforge some of the Nth Metal that made up the ship's hull but during that time it was a MASSIVE advantage in the equality of their spears, axes and shields allowing Khufu's empire to extend to the most sprawling heights of Egyptian history up to that point.

The "Hawks" seen on the ship's wings became a symbol of Khufu's empire as the ship became an auspicious sign from the Gods blessing his reign and state with the power of unequaled conquest and prosperity during his life.

In reality these "Hawks" are obviously not the Earth born bird but a species of raptor-like avian that is the symbol of Thanagar's "Wingmen" a highly ranked corps of Thanagarian military and law enforcement. The Wingmen are so prominent and associated with Thanagar in the wider galactic community that the black headed "Hawk" symbol has become a byword for Thanagarian culture as a whole. So when Khufu and Chayara were assassinated and cursed with mystical reincarnation the 'Hawk' that had become a symbol of their reign followed them through time while that same symbol was still carried by the Wingmen of Thanagar when two of them again crash landed on Earth in the modern day.

To take a roundabout back to my point, both sets of Hawks take their symbolism from an image associated with the lawmen of the planet Thanagar, the Golden Age Hawks because it was appropriated by their Egyptian originators and the Silver Age Hawks because it is a native symbol of their home world.

[alshamswelnahr]

Based on what we know about Kanae Kocho we can gather that she is a kind, hardworking, driven, resolute, emotionally intelligent and strong, she is a healer and caregiver, she is interwoven into the fabric of the story and the core of multiple characters, her influence is palpable even long after her death, as her presence is felt and her impact seen throughout the narrative.

Kanae bears a striking resemblance to Tanjiro, as she is one of the few characters who truly understands the truth of their world. Her motivation is noble, focusing on healing rather than vengeance. This is evident in her actions, which are geared towards saving lives rather than taking them. Kanae envisions a world where neither side has to suffer, a lesson she learned from her father about helping everyone in need.

Unlike other demon slayers, Kanae did not take up her sword out of hatred or a desire for vengeance. Instead, her motivation was an authentic desire to heal, save, and prevent further harm. Although Shinobu saw her as unbearably idealistic, even naive, Kanae's beliefs are validated by the narrative, which consistently advocates for humanizing demons and ending their actions out of necessity, not cruelty. This philosophy, personified by Tanjiro, aims to break the cycle of violence perpetuated by Muzan.

Kanae's legacy is deeply embedded in the psyche of Shinobu and her other sisters. This is evident in the way Shinobu adopts Kanae's haori and mannerisms after her death, and how Kanao takes on her breathing style. The girls of the Butterfly Mansion wear hairpins that are a gift from Kanae. Even Shinobu's attempt to emulate Kanae's vision, though it becomes a hollow version due to her disbelief, shows Kanae's lasting impact. Shinobu's work with Tamayo to bring an end to Muzan’s reign further illustrates this influence.

Interestingly, a glimpse of Kanae can be seen in the demon who killed her. Both Kanae and Douma believe that killing demons or consuming human lives is the only way to save souls. The key difference is that Kanae's belief is genuine.

Finally, Kanae parallels Sanemi in having a "weaker" younger sibling who insists on demon hunting despite their disadvantages. However, Kanae contrasts sharply with Sanemi in her approach. While Sanemi kept people out and away, Kanae kept her heart open, wore her kindness on her sleeve, and allowed her sister to choose her own path despite her fear. Kanae had the strength to care deeply and openly about others, symbolizing healing within the Corps, while Sanemi chose a path of self-harm.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

Clark didn't like Hal??? what dis?

It’s this fic idea I had where I pretend as if there’s some actual friction between early JLA days Clark and Hal—and then explore how that friction might have come to be between those two very agreeable people and how they might come to resolve it. Basically, they get stuck in a place somewhere and have to air out their grievances & bond over having to control such limitless power and what that means for both of them.

It’s kinda been left to collect dust because I had a couple of good pages in my head and then…moved on to greener pastures, I guess. Shrug

But anyway!! Here’s a snippet:

“So,” said Hal, looking expectantly at Clark, “what gives?”

Clark frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, it’s not like I really wanna sit down for a talk about feelings or whatever, but come on. It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to see clearly, there’s some sort of reason why you don’t like me.”

Clark looked up at Hal, surprised. “I don’t dislike you,” he said quickly. A little too quickly.

“Yeah right,” Hal said with a visible roll of his eyes behind his mask’s seamless white lenses. “You’re jumping for joy at the prospect of spending an indefinite amount of time with me in an enclosed space.”

“That’s unfair. Anyone would be worried about being imprisoned,” Clark said.

Hal raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so you admit that you don’t like me.”

The thing was, Clark didn’t like Hal.

But he didn’t…not like Hal.

Clark certainly didn’t have any reason to dislike him, not like Bruce, who regarded Hal as the reckless and needlessly flashy antithesis to Batman, or Diana, whose heartbeat tripped in grief everytime Hal said or did something a little too like Steve Trevor, or even J’onn, who carried a justified simmering resentment against the Guardians and, by extension, the Green Lantern Corps for what they did to his people.

For his own part, Hal was actually pretty polite, if distantly so, with Clark. He was, in fact, probably more polite to Clark than he was to any of the other members of the League. Of course, Hal was much closer to his friends, Barry and Oliver and Dinah, but weirdly enough, he deferred to Clark a lot of the time, whether that was following his orders in the field or hushed down at meetings when he was making snarky asides to his seatmates, where with others, he would argue, flirt, or joke.

It was…odd, that Hal singled Clark out like that. Clark grew up in rural Kansas, where Midwest Nice reigned the dominant conduct toward strangers and friends alike, so he shouldn’t have found it strange, but Hal was a Californian bred true and blue. It shone in how he teased and cussed and took up with the most amount of space possible—with everyone else, that was, except for Clark.

It could just be plain old simple respect. But Clark’s journalistic instinct told him it wasn’t—not when he knew that when they thought nobody would notice, Hal and Bruce would do little check-ins with each other after a mission. For the two most antagonistic and argumentative members of the Justice League, they seemed to understand each other on a level that wasn’t deeper than what Clark had with Bruce but was…somehow, different. But Clark knew Hal respected Bruce, and Bruce, begrudgingly, respected Hal; so whatever Hal had for or against Clark, it wasn’t respect. It was simply…distance.

So…yeah. Clark and Hal each held each other at a distance, and it was fine. And he didn’t even mean it in the way that Batman would grunt out after taking a heavy hit that was most definitely not fine, Clark really meant that it was just…fine.

It’s not as if it created any discord within the Justice League, this little disconnect between two out of the nine members. Hal was far from a social pariah, considering how much he got along with the other half of the League.

Clark was content to let sleeping dogs lie, but it seemed Hal wasn’t.

“I don’t dislike you,” Clark repeated, willing his voice to be firmer this time.

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

Lazarus Pact AU

In the last moments of his reign, King of the Inifinite Realms attacked the victor and fled to the mortal plane to prevent the Tyrant known as Pariah Dark from absorbing his core and stealing his powers for himself. Those who couldn't challenge the new king's rule and wanted nothing to do with the barbaric monarch followed soon after.

Notably, the seemingly countless elite warriors who were revered for their expertise at ectoplasmic manipulation who joined the Former King throughout his eons-long time as ruler of the Realms.

However, in an environment with very little to no ambient ectoplasm, they had to use their energy reserves sparingly until they found a new home. The journey nearly resulted in them nearly fading from existence in the void of space, but they had found salvation in the form of beings called 'Guardians' who held similar beliefs to the monarch himself.

So, a pact was made, and conditions had to be met. The most important were the following:

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

1) The Warriors of the Infinite Realms would house themselves in artifacts that were virtually indestructible to any form of harm to keep them safe.

The Guardians would create power rings to keep them safe.

2) Ectoplasm was essential for beings of the Realms. Without it is to perish, so an energy would be needed to replenish their cores.

The Guardians got to work and made ectoplasmic generators that could revitalize a warrior's energy within a matter of seconds to carry on in their duties. These devices were to be called Lanterns.

3) A stealth team would be made to keep an eye on the happenings within the Inifinite Realms, specifically the young king Dark, and reported to the former king.

The Guardians established an elite team of Green Lanterns composed of their best members. These mission reports would be classified and kept secret from the Corps at large for the former king's eyes only.

4) Should Pariah Dark lose his crown, they would be informed by the former king. Should the new monarch be a just soul, the Green Lanterns are to protect this being with their lives and come to his aid in his hour of need.

Failure to do so will result in the forced disbanding of the Green Lanterns Corps via the destruction of the his own core. The Guardians, despite their scientific prowess and failsafes, could not hope to stop this event if it came to pass.

Upon hearing this, the Guardians would anxiously make their weekly scouting parties turn daily and scour the Realms for trouble.

5) From that day onward, the former king would no longer be addressed with his old title. A new one would be made.

The Guardians would address the entity as Ion, the Being of Willpower.

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

When Ion booms across all power rings that the new king is in need of immediate assistance, the Guardians send every available Lantern to intercept the threat.

The question being...who is it?

[themoomoorn]

Unlike Verdane, they actually did sort of try to incorporate at least some visual elements of several MENA hallmarks into the clothing, symbols, and (in Hopes) weapons of Almyra - namely the Ottoman Empire, Persia, and Mongolia, sort of - but as stated, the portrayal got quashed with Hopes turning the few Almyrans we get into stereotypical "eastern barbarians" 💩. Which sucks because somehow Kurahana-sensei gave Shahid an unironically fire visual design that exceeds just about all of the other new characters.

I'd be willing to give them one more chance with Almyra (or some future game), but with the caveat that in an ideal world, they'd consult some people and actually put care into writing the country, because despite Almyra and Verdane coming from two whole separate Eras of FE, they're similar for the same gross reasons.

An India or Thai style country would also be cool, if only because I want the boys and gals at IntSys to cook up some weird war elephant class. They also were sort of able to make a Mongolia-expy work with Sacae, but next time maybe go all-in in making their classes and gameplay even more distinct.

So this may be an odd ask, but if you could pick a real-world culture to be the basis of a Fire emblem nation in a future game, which ones would they be?

Hmm...

Given what Fodlan did to Almyra...

I mean, we're on par with "Verdane was inspired by Persia" from Jugdral, and we're not in the early 1990s anymore, so I'm not really trusting IS with any "real world culture" anymore.

But for some sort of revenge bias - after Almyra and TS, well, Hyzante - I'd like to see IS, try to get designs and clues from the Middle East, but without the 1800s bias that ultimately created Almyra.

I know FE isn't like, an Assassin's Creed game so you can't explore "real world cultures" that much, but if they could just take inspiration for clothes and designs from one "real world" place without slapping obvious prejudices it'd be nice.

[justforbooks]

George Foreman

A multiple boxing world heavyweight champion who became a pastor, television celebrity and successful entrepreneur

Redemption was a long time coming for George Foreman, and when it finally arrived he grabbed it with both fists.

For years Foreman, who reigned as world heavyweight champion during his division’s greatest era, was forced to act as an antidote to the more popular successes of his main rivals, Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier.

In the buildup to the Rumble in the Jungle in what was then Zaire in 1974, Foreman, who has died at the age of 76, was characterised as a humourless ogre in stark comparison to Ali’s ebullient charm: a persona Foreman did little publicly to try to change.

But in later years, beginning with his herculean triumph over Michael Moorer in 1994 to become the oldest heavyweight champion at the age of 45, Foreman would fashion a remarkable change in his public perception, which ultimately made him one of the most enduringly popular American sportsmen.

Foreman was born in Marshall, Texas in 1949 and endured a troubled childhood, responding to local bullies by becoming, by his own admission, a juvenile delinquent, involved in shoplifting and mugging, and frequently finding himself in trouble with the police.

After dropping out of high school at the age of 16, Foreman enrolled for the local job corps, a decision he credits with helping to turn his life around. It was during a session that he caught a glimpse of an Ali fight against Floyd Patterson and convinced himself he could become a boxer.

Just over a year after winning his first amateur fight, Foreman won the right to represent the US in the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. Three straight wins took him through to the gold medal match against Ionas Čepulis, before which Foreman admitted he was “scared”.

Foreman’s devastating second-round win paved the way for an inevitable professional career. Over the course of the next three years, he cut a swathe through the heavyweight division, winning all but three of his first 37 paid bouts inside the distance to force a meeting with reigning champion Frazier in Jamaica.

Frazier went into the bout also unbeaten, having won the title from Ali. But Foreman destroyed him, knocking the champion down six times before the referee called a halt midway through the second round.

Foreman seemed invincible, swatting aside two top-level challenges to raise the inevitable prospect of a bout against the ageing Ali, then 32 and still struggling to regain the form he had shown prior to being banned for avoiding the Vietnam draft.

The bout was set for the heart of Africa and Foreman was the overwhelming favourite. But Ali courted the populist vote during the lengthy buildup to the fight, which was extended by an extra month when Foreman suffered an eye injury in training.

By the time of the first bell for the bout that would become forever known as The Rumble in the Jungle, there was a sense of something special, and Ali duly provided it, soaking up extraordinary punishment before pouncing in the eighth round to sink Foreman to the canvas and win back his belts.

Foreman fought six times more, including another win over Frazier, before retiring after defeat to Jimmy Young in 1977. But a full decade later, having become ordained as a priest in the meantime, he announced a remarkable comeback attempt.

Working his way back through the ranks, Foreman did enough to earn a shot at then-champion Evander Holyfield in 1991, which he lost on points. But three years later, despite another loss in the meantime to Tommy Morrison, he stunned Moorer and the world by winning back the title at the age of 45.

By the time Foreman finally hung up his gloves in 1997, he had completed his remarkable journey from unloved street tough to national treasure.

But Foreman still had one more epilogue up his sleeve – or rather in his stomach.

Crediting his successful comeback to healthy eating, Foreman gave his name to a grill that went on to sell in the millions, earning Foreman figures that dwarfed his boxing career, and he also evolved into a prominent television celebrity and boxing pundit.

Married five times, Foreman had 12 children, including five boys, all of whom he named George. “I named all my sons George so they would always have something in common,” Foreman said.

“I say to them, if one of us goes up, we all go up. And if one goes down, we all go down together.”

🔔 George Edward Foreman, boxer and entrepreneur, born 10 January 1949; died 21 March 2025

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[voraciousvore]

Hiiii 🤭 so i love ur work uwu ~ can one of ur giants do some fear play for a rando like me 😶🤐🤐

Of course! Enjoy 😈 (1366 words, contains threat of vore/ mouthplay).

Also YOU 🫵 get to choose the ending! (there's a poll!)

You only just started working at Big Corp Inc., but you’re already beginning to regret your life choices. The giant office corridor is as wide as a city block, the cubicle walls stretching up on either side of you like buildings as you traverse the long journey to your desk. The ceiling might as well be the sky with how far away it is. It’s a major inconvenience, and makes you feel as insignificant as a tiny bug, but you need this job. You sigh and continue forward: You could use the exercise anyway.

Your heart jumps into your throat as the floor begins to quake beneath you in the familiar cadence of giant footsteps. You know, of course, that giants work here. They’ve been nice enough to you so far, and you’re aware that most harbor no malicious intent—yet the animal instinct inside you still tugs at your gut whenever you encounter one. A giantess rounds the corner, her stiletto heels clacking with deafening crashes on the tile. She’s in a hurry, and doesn’t bother to check her feet as she clomps over you, oblivious to your existence. You rush to the side, barely avoiding being stomped on. Your heart pounds against your ribs while the pounding of her heels rapidly fades into the distance. You straighten out your shirt and carry on.

A few minutes have passed, and you’re still in the same endless corridor. It takes you forever to get anywhere when everything is so big. You struggle to reign in your frustration. The floor shakes beneath your feet again, with footsteps approaching from behind this time. You try to remain calm. It’s normal. Nothing to be scared of. Just another employee, a regular person like you, just a thousand times bigger. No big deal. No worries.

As the heavy footfalls get closer to you, they slow. Your heart, by contrast, beats faster. Every step is elephantine, underscoring the sheer mass of the being behind you—above you—all around you. The mere presence weighs on you with unbearable pressure. You feel as if you will fall, sink into the floor. A shadow envelops you like an incoming storm. A shoe larger than a monster truck slams down on your left side, then another on your right. The giant stops. You stop as well, frozen in place.

The air is stifling. Your rational mind slips as fear courses over you. With a herculean effort, you fight the impossible weight holding you in place and crank your head back so you can see the giant looming over you. Your knees nearly buckle with weakness when you recognize the giant man, with his cold, dark, condescending glare so far above as to be almost out of sight beyond the curve of his jawline. Ronny. You’ve been warned by others to avoid him at all costs.

He curls his lip with disgust. “Ugh. They hired another human?”

His voice, deep and imposing, resonates through the air like thunder. You open your mouth to respond, with only the incomprehensible crack of your vocal cords audible. Abruptly, one of those immense shoes swings towards you and knocks you down flat on your back. The toe pins you to the ground in a savage gesture, pressing down on your chest painfully. You writhe like a worm, but the greatest strength you can muster is useless against the solid plain of the bottom of his shoe.

“No…” you manage to gasp. The giant glares down at you with a complete lack of empathy. His features contort with disgust, as if he were observing the squirms of a filthy sewer rat.

“Hmph,” he scoffs. He kneels down, making you wince with agony as your ribs creak under his foot. He removes his shoe from your body, only to pin you down with his massive index finger instead. He pinches you with his thumb and plucks you off the floor, lifting you up to his face. Your stomach lurches at the sudden change in height. You find yourself suspended a hundred feet up, staring into a huge pair of hateful eyes, the large irises like black holes. You feel like you could fall into the depths of hell in those eyes.

“Worthless vermin,” Ronny mutters. “What should I do with you?” He’s holding a cup of coffee in his other hand, and he idly takes a sip. He looks down at you, then back at his coffee, and an ugly grin crosses over his face.

“Please… just let me go,” you choke. The giant grins wider, dangling you over his coffee. You tremble, scrabbling your clammy hands over the ridges of his finger. “Stop! No!”

His fingers release you. You drop into the pool of hot brown liquid with a sharp yelp. Fortunately, the coffee isn’t hot enough to scald your skin, but it’s hardly pleasant to be soaked in it. You struggle to stay afloat as your clothes and shoes become fully saturated. You swim through the lake of coffee to the edge of the mug, reaching your hands as far as you can to grab the lip. Instead, an enormous fingertip shoves your hands back into the liquid. The giant sniggers to himself as you try again, only to be foiled when he tilts the cup backwards, swishing you to the other side.

“You can’t do this!” you wail pathetically. Even as the words leave your mouth, you realize how shrill and wimpy you sound. Ronny smirks cruelly as he plays with his cup, stirring the coffee into a whirlpool that spins you around and makes you dizzy. You flap your arms, crying out every time you bang into the inner walls of the mug. You screech with terror when the giant brings his cup up to his enormous mouth and takes a big swig. The coffee drains down his throat in deep, throbbing gulps. You slap into his lips, suctioned in by the current, before plopping back down into the coffee pond.

You begin to hyperventilate with panic as you swim side to side. The coffee level has drained too low for you to reach the top and pull yourself out. You’re trapped with no chance of escape. You yell for help, only to be dunked under the surface by the odious man keeping you captive. You resurface, gasping for breath, and scream again, but are punished with another dunk in the coffee, longer this time. Your lungs burn until you are finally allowed to take another breath.

Ronny tilts the cup back and sucks in another draught, opening his mouth wide this time to show you your ultimate fate. You’re sobbing now, frantically swimming away from the gaping gullet as gallons of coffee get chugged down the giant’s throat. As you’re drawn in by the current, you attempt to kick his teeth, only for your shoe to fly off your foot instead. You watch in horror as your shoe disappears down his throat and he effortlessly swallows it with his drink.

You realize all at once that you’re inside his mouth. His jaws begin to close around you, slowly. With a jolt of adrenaline, you frantically dive between the rows of teeth, out of the smelly wet darkness and into the light. You fall back into the cup, smacking your arm painfully against the bottom.

You pant for breath and huddle against the ceramic wall. You’re sitting in a puddle now that hardly comes up to your knees. Ronny is grinning down at you, peeling his lips back to display full rows of fierce, slick, white teeth. He’s toying with you. He let you go on purpose this time, but you understand with a sickening twist in your stomach that he won’t spare you again.

He sets his coffee mug on his desk and begins to type on his computer, humming to himself. You shiver, despite the heated beverage drenching you. There’s nothing you can do. Every once in a while Ronny will glance over at you with a sadistic smile, making your heart jump into your throat. He’s savoring your torment, waiting until the right moment to finish you off.

It's only a matter of time.

~

Update: Part 2