#pls validate me

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

We've only just begun (a Mon-el introspective? Idk dont ask me) (Rhea's wedding plans succeed)

Mon-el jolts from his misery when the door to his cell clicks open, and shoots to his feet when he sees Lena Luthor on the other side. He blinks in surprise.

"How...?"

Lena flashes an access key, apparently palmed from some soldier's gauntlet. Her smirk is flat and humorless. "You should really have a talk with your guards."

Mon-el scowls. "They're not *my*--"

"Whatever," comes the dismissive retort. "Coming?"

Mon-el is certainly not staying. But he's not about to let Lena Luthor take the lead, either. He overtakes her brisk pace in a jog, and though she huffs with derision, she thankfully doesn't protest. Kara's heroics have rubbed off on him enough to know that if Lena got hurt while he lagged behind... well. The less said about that, the better.

Mon-el manages to take out the few guards they run into on the way to the nearest transmat pad, but their disappearance is noticed just as Lena swipes the access key across the final sensor keeping them from their escape.

A siren blares, echoing in the empty corridor. Closing themselves in the transmat chamber is no better-- there the pulsing wail of the alarm presses close around them, even as Lena surges towards the control panel.

"Damn it!" she curses, fingers flying over the control board. "Shit!"

"They shut it down remotely?" Mon-el guesses correctly. Lena glares at the console. "We're trapped then."

"Maybe not!" Lena shouts over the klaxon. "If I can--"

The door opens behind them, admitting a squadron of guards who swiftly spill into the room. Mon-el smoothly disarms one, then floors another with a strike to his sternum. He knows all he can do to aid their escape is to buy Lena time--

Three guards pile on him at once, driving him to the ground. In moments he's restrained in manacles and pinned to the floor with a knee digging sharply into his back.

"Step back!" a guard barks at Lena, aggression plain in his posture.

Lena ignores him, jaw tight as she focuses on her task. In horror, Mon-el watches the guard level his staff weapon at Lena, preparing to fire.

"Step back!" the guard bellows again.

Again, Lena ignores him, even when the weapon at her back whines with a building electrical charge. Mon-el twists against the guard pinning him, to no avail. Finally, he sags.

"Lena," is all he says.

At the sound of his voice, Lena's fingers pause. Then her eyes close for a long moment, lips thinning into a tense line. Finally, she lifts her hands from the controls, and steps back.

In an instant, the guard seizes her by the arm and yanks her away. She gives a cry of pain as she stumbles, her bare feet scuffing against the floor.

"Careful!" Mon-el snaps, even as his own captors heave him to his feet. The guard flashes him a glare, which Mon-el meets with all the haughty authority he can muster. "The queen won't be pleased if you damage her."

The man scowls, but his grip relaxes ever so slightly. Mon-el meets Lena's eyes briefly, and finds a heady mix of irritation and despair staring back at him.

"Let's go!"

The guards march them from the room. Mon-el expects them to be escorted to the throne room, where his mother would chide them like children, but to his surprise, his escort turns back towards the cells. Lena's, however, turns the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Mon-el shouts, digging in his heels to try and maneuver back towards Lena. "Stop!"

"Mon-el!" Lena calls back, twisting desperately against the grip on her arm. She knows that separation would leave them both vulnerable. "Let me go!"

But no one listens. As the distance between them grows, Mon-el cranes his neck to look over his shoulder towards Lena, only to have his stop plummet when he sees her growing terror. Unable to do anything more, Mon-el draws on the only reassurance he has to offer.

"Supergirl will come!" he shouts to Lena, even as her captor turns them around the corner out of sight. "She's coming!"

---

Kara doesn't come. Not soon enough, anyway. He waits and hopes while he sits in his solitary cell, while he wonders if Lena was unharmed, when a pair of servants deliver a set of fresh finery to dress in.

"For your nuptials," sneers one of the two guards now posted at the cell door.

When he's dressed and finally escorted back to the throne room for the ceremony, Mon-el is relieved when Lena trails in just a few minutes later. She'd been given the same treatment, her dark gown traded for one of the richest red-- the color reserved for the very highest of rank. It is the color of Rao, and a symbol of his approval for the ceremony to come.

Lena seems defiant as she stalks towards the dais where Mon-el stands, but as Rhea commands the broadcast to begin and starts her speech, Mon-el feels Lena trembling beside him. He looks at her from the corner of his eye, and sensing his gaze, Lena looks back with apprehension in her eyes.

He hears Lena swallow thickly when Rhea orders them to face each other, and the fingers Mon-el takes in his own shake with the power of her thundering heartbeat. He wants to offer reassurance, but has none to give. This is happening, and nothing either of them can do will stop it.

A priest winds a silver ribbon around their joined hands, binding them together in the sight of Rao and his witnesses. As Rhea declares their marriage firm and final, Lena blinks, spilling a single tear down her cheek.

The broadcast ends, and Lena yanks her hands from Mon-el's the instant the ribbon is removed. She scrubs the tear away with the heel of one hand, swallowing again to steel herself as Rhea approaches.

"You performed beautifully, my dear," his mother says. She reaches out to brush Lena's cheek, who sharply pulls her head away from the touch. Rhea tsks. "Ah, well."

She turns to address them both. "I would have allowed you to spend your wedding night together, however after your little escapade, I don't trust that you won't cause trouble."

With a clap of her hands, the guards step forward once more, gripping them both tightly. Mon-el keeps his attention on Lena, watching as her gaze goes flat-- numb.

"I'm sorry," Mon-el says before Lena is dragged away, and he himself soon after. It echoes in his ears as they return him to his cell, and thunders in his head when his helplessness closes in around him.

I'm sorry.

----

Supergirl arrives a week later, after coordinating resistance against the Daxamite soldiers on the ground. When she arrives in the cell block where Mon-el waits, Kara's brow furrows in alarm.

"Where's Lena?" she demands.

"I don't know," Mon-el replies dully. "She may be in the royal wing, but I'm not--"

"Let's go."

Kara barely spares a moment to wrench the doors apart before marching away, and Mon-el is all too willing to follow. Backing Supergirl is something he can do-- now, he can finally help. He leads them to the most lavish of the court's chambers, correctly guessing that his mother had extended her the luxury of a high noble.

Within the chamber they find Lena, now changed from her red wedding gown to robes of deep purple. Between that and the way her hair is styled in the fashion of Daxam's courtiers, she looks every inch a Daxamite princess.

Lena turns from the window at their entrance. Her gaze bounces between them briefly. "Supergirl."

Kara is already closing the distance between them. Mon-el sees the way her arms lift to embrace Lena, only to redirect midway to grasp her friend by the shoulders.

"You're all right?" Supergirl asks.

Lena nods. "Yes, thank you."

Mon-el wonders if Kara can hear the distance in Lena's voice. If she does, she gives no indication as she shifts to the task at hand. "Let's get out of here."

Taking Lena by the hand, Kara guides them both from the chamber. With Supergirl as their escort, not a single guard can stop them: each one ends up crumpled at their feet, senseless or dead-- Mon-el isn't sure he wants to know which.

To his surprise, Lena slips her hand from Supergirl's after the second guard goes down, scooping up his sidearm as she follows the hero's path. The fact he hadn't thought to do the same pricks at Mon-el's pride, as does Supergirl's swift dispatch of any opponents they run into. But he keeps it to himself, aware that they are only this close to freedom because of Kara's help.

The alarms sound a few corridors away from the transmat room, and Lena's shoulders stiffen. "They'll have locked down the consoles," she says stiffly. "But if you can--"

"We don't need the consoles," Supergirl delivers with a smirk. She plucks a small fob from beneath the neck of her suit. "Different exit strategy."

At that, Lena's features spread into a conspiratorial grin, and for a moment Mon-el feels entirely out of place. Then Supergirl turns to him, nods, and cocks her head towards the end of the corridor.

"This way."

They make it to the far end of the ship without Lena having to fire a single shot. Reaching a deserted room, Kara guides them inside, then clicks the button on her fob just once. Instantly, the ship melts away, and the world coalesces around them once more into an entirely different scene.

Suddenly-- still-- attuned to Lena, Mon-el registers the moment Lena realizes where she is. Her eyes widen in surprise, scanning the icy fortress around her. In that scan, Lena's gaze lands on a tall, slender woman who must have activated the device to bring them home. In an instant, Lena's features shutter once more.

"Mother."

The woman saunters forward, and in her regal stature and haughtily bemused features, Mon-el sees his own mother. And just like with Rhea, Lena recoils when her mother reaches to touch her cheek.

The woman sighs at her reaction. "Even now, Lena?"

"Don't pretend you're here out of the goodness of your heart," Lena snaps.

"I'm here for you," her mother delivers firmly. "For my daughter."

"So you'll leave without me?"

At this, the woman frowns. "They are the reason this happened, they cannot be trusted!"

She reaches for her daughter's arm, only for Lena to wrench herself out of reach.

"*I* am the reason this happened, mother," Lena hisses. She glances guiltily towards where Kara has stiffened in surprise, but powers through. "*They* are the ones who will help me fix it."

"That's absolutely out of the question--"

"Your opinion means nothing." Lena bristles with obstinance, as though all the resistance she'd been unable to enact on the ship had found its outlet in this moment. "Now leave, so the rest of us can go home."

The woman scowls. "You're making a mistake."

"Not this time," comes Lena's firm reply, only for her mother to lift a knowing eyebrow.

"We'll see."

---

Once the woman leaves with her henchmen, Supergirl removes her cape to wrap it around Lena, whose thin gown offered little resistance to the Arctic cold. Lena accepts the gesture with a thin, shivering smile.

"Thank you."

Kara nods in reassurance. "Let's go home."

Outside a DEO helicopter waits for them with a pilot standing by. The trip feels long to Mon-el, spent in awkward silence seated between his girlfriend and his new wife.

Wife.

That means something to him, he finds. He watches Lena carefully throughout the ride, though she largely ignores him in favor of staring out the window. Supergirl, for her part, studies the both of them. The helicopter lands twenty miles from National City, not trusting the Daxamite fleet wouldn't shoot them from the sky on approach.

When they disembark, Mon-el sees Lena's look of surprise when he turns to help her down from the helicopter. But after that moment of hesitation, Lena accepts his assistance by placing her hand in his.

The last leg of their journey is spent in the back of an SUV, and Mon-el's shoulder brushes Lena's as they speed down the interstate. When the National City skyline comes into view, Lena stiffens at the columns of smoke still rising from the city. It looks like a scene from one Winn's movies, but it's not. It's real, and from the way Lena barely seems to breathe, the reality presses on her just as heavily.

They arrive at the alien bar with little fanfare. But even the quiet embraces Alex gives Kara and Winn gives Mon-el leaves Lena standing pointedly alone. Upon seeing Lena draw Supergirl's cape more securely around herself, Mon-el extricates himself from Winn's tight hug.

"Perhaps you have some clothes more comfortable?" he asks. Winn follows his gaze, seemingly only then noticing their final guest.

"Oh!" he chirps. "Yeah, of course! Hi, Miss Luthor."

Lena offers only the smallest upturn of her lips in gratitude. Her eyes flash to Mon-el, her features inscrutable in the barest of moments before she allows Winn to lead her inside. Mon-el almost follows, but lingers when Kara does. They finally embrace, and Mon-el releases some of the tension he'd been carrying with a sigh.

"Thank you," he murmurs quietly.

"I saw the broadcast," Kara says. When she pulls away, her face is creased with worry. "The wedding. Are... are you okay?"

Mon-el pauses, and realizes he doesn't quite know how to respond. For want of an answer, he deflects.

"Lena spent the most time with my mother," he says, half jokingly. "She's the one you should worry about."

Kara frowns, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "I can worry about you both."

"I'm fine." As he says the words, Mon-el can feel how untrue they are. He tries again. "I'll be fine when my people have left this planet for good."

Kara's gaze searches his, but thankfully doesn't push any further. "Now that we have you both back, we might stand a chance."

---

Their chance, as Mon-el had long suspected, is entirely Lena. When Mon-el follows the team to the DEO, Lena parts ways, heading for L-Corp. That she would go to her place of business instead of her home carries a meaning Mon-el can't quite define. Perhaps it is to Lena what the throne room is to his mother: a place of power, control... both of which Mon-el is certain Lena feels the need to regain.

Even so, he's relieved when she returns just a few hours later with a plan. His heart drops when he learns that plan is to poison Earth's atmosphere with lead, but when his gaze connects with Lena's, he finds no malice. If anything, she seems reluctant to offer the plan, clearly a last resort.

"We won't need it," Supergirl declares. She is sure of two things, where Mon-el is only certain of one: Supergirl may win the Dakam-ur, but Rhea will not honor it.

For the first time in his life, Mon-el wishes he'll be wrong.

He isn't.

---

Supergirl is the one to press the button, but it's Kara who says goodbye. Her eyes are full of tears, and even as he chokes on the air in his lungs, Mon-el wants nothing more than to wipe them away.

"I'm a better person, because of you," he coughs thickly. "Kara, please..."

"I'm sorry," she whispers hoarsely. "I'm so sorry."

Mon-el shakes his head. There's nothing to forgive. Instead, he has a request of his own.

"Take care of Lena."

Kara stares at him, confusion clouding her tear-filled gaze. "What?"

"She's going to need you," Mon-el gasps. "And you'll need her in return. Let her be what I couldn't."

"Mon-el..."

"Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her... I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to be the person she needed me to be. The person you both needed me to be." He wheezes painfully, every breath a thousand knives prickling his throat and lungs. "I should have stopped the wedding. You would have."

Kara shakes her head, but Mon-el knows. Had it been Supergirl in his shoes, she would have thought of some way to thwart the ceremony.

He should have thought to challenge his mother to the Dakam-ur himself, right there on that dais.

"Don't let Lena blame herself," Mon-el continues. "And don't blame yourself either. You made the right choice."

He doubts Kara believes him now, but in time, in the months or years it takes for the ache to fade, he knows she will. It is the right choice.

His final goodbye is a wave through the shuttles window as it lifts off the ground. Pre-programmed to exit Earth's orbit as swiftly as possible, he soon loses sight of Kara as the pod lifts through the atmosphere and into the dark of space.

In that void of expanse, Mon-el knows that whatever else, the two women he leaves behind will be fine. His wife and the love of his life will find their way through, together.

[airbuzz2007]

oh the misery, everybody wants to be my enemy! (based on the arcane opening disks)

[saintsylestine]

My friends - I'm writing a fanfic about a Lamenter who has seen too much, feels too much, and definitely doesn’t go to therapy.

is Kaelor a hot enough name for that kind of emotional devastation or do i need to up the syllables?

[coquettefrancaise]

be honest you guys... do people go searching for/enjoy Eris fics??? I can't seem to get that ginger out of my head 😭

[nappyzzzztommy]

just a lil femboy trying to survive in a world that doesn’t appreciate soft thighs and thigh highs… smh. send love or send snacks. uwu. either work.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

I watched Robert Pattinson’s Batman on the plane ride home and zoo wee mama i was going fucking feral I really want to write for his Bruce 🥲

[lost-khione]

I occasionally take time to watch SPPs of different cards and record them. I came across this unique Fusionic Stars SPP of Kuro

First of all, it doesn't have the gold sparkles border which is characteristic of 4* SPPs. And for a Fusionic Stars SPP, this one is different since from observation, NY songs' SPP have 3 default choreos and each character just get either of those.

For reference, you can check SPP of Nazuna, Natsume and Chiaki -- these 3 feature the 3 default SPPs

[naavi-0]

First drawing post YIPPEEE !!! Ft. my oc Ilara 🤭🤭 literally how do i post here 💀

[failedsoldier]

i think i might make a comeback but i’m 75% positive if i do it’s gonna be on a multi-muse blog because i don’t have the energy or time for single muse blogs at this point

[iloveplayrehersal]

Anyone else ship these two

[lochlanratliff]

i know it’s mitski day but does anyone else go here

[lilyissuswritings2]

Poll

If I, theoretically, started posting Ninjago OC content(more story focused and something I have been working on for a year and already have a 181 script page for season one ready)....

Would any of you be interested?

[suttonite]

gonna wait until tomorrow to update (sidenote: i'm glad i waited bc as i was writing this post i went back and added a small paragraph to jeremiah's pov)

[orbitganymede]

18+, MDNI

asking ghost out on a date is…odd to say the least. utterly bold and fearless of you if someone was to ask other people on base, you’re big balled they say. the masked assassin had given a gruff “no”, clearly uninterested as he turned away and lit a cigarette as if you’re nothing but a nuisance. you’d shrugged your shoulders and went on with your day, what could you do? you’d tried.

but now ghost is interested, you’re the first person that’s approached him, usually he’d have to find hookups at bars or he’d have to resort to making his sergeants do their unofficial duty of stress relief. he refuses to leave you alone a mere week after you asked him. opting to sit next to you in the mess instead of haunting his usual corner, not that he’d make conversation. this went on for a few days before he decided to be the bold one and placed his obscenely large hand on your thigh. you’re confused to say the least, he’d denied your invitation to dinner, and honestly you’d prefaced it in a way that could have been taken as just the bedroom. but here he is hand so close to your crotch that the gesture couldn’t possibly mean anything but his want to try you out. you let it slide, let him fondle you, what bad could come from letting this mountain of a man take you back to his and give you a few, hopefully earth shattering, orgasms?

That’s how you end up with your ass in the air, stretched impossibly wide around his cock, little ah ah ahs falling from your lips, with him telling you to shut up, take it, you asked for it, pet. and after, when you’re trying to steady your breathing, clenching sporadically around nothing but his warm spend inside you, he’s on his phone, googling how quickly a marriage license can be drawn up.

[violentbirds]

*kisses fan art on the forehead and then tosses it into the void*

Another star wars illustration for that one discord im in that obsesses over an ao3 series where Luke is hired to work on Vader’s ship and slowly de-corrupts Vader… but instead of turning him “good” he just sorta turns him feral. (Arguably, that is Anakin’s natural state.)

[katebeckets]

how to say "I love you" in x-files [100/?] ⤷ 7.02 — “The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati”