#kiarcheo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purrpickle · 2 years ago

Text

Here, have some more Royalty AU!Mon headcanons and thought dumps!

...Followed by another fanfic scene drop under the read more because of course. (...Can't really call it a ficlet anymore with the combined writing I've done so far.)

(Again, I can't post links without tumblr eating this, but you can search Royalty AU!Mon on my blog and find the other parts of this 'verse if you want context.)

First, more guest ideas that I agree with completely from @kiarcheo that I will incorporate into the 'verse. Thank you!

Now mine because of course I couldn't stop thinking about it either. These jump around a bit as they are highly indulgent of how my brain works.

While Mon has access to quite a bit of money, she's been living without it for years, held in an account that she can only get into for emergencies, probably needing to go through her father until she reaches a certain age (I'm thinking 25?). This was on purpose, and something Mon grew up with, so her feelings of being a sugar baby and being unable to get Sam a birthday present are real. It's only when she's in England and attending to her duties that she has money to spend because she pretty much has to to be presentable. So that scene in Ep 5 where she left the party because she felt so inferior is real. She's never had that kind of money in Thailand, so for her, that inability to provide for Sam like she thinks she should is her truth.

Mon's social media accounts are pretty well managed, due to Mon having to submit her posts to her father's own social media management team first (one of the things he asked her to do when she started getting into Facebook and Instagram and Twitter, etc.). Mon doesn't mind, really, knowing the probability of her accounts getting recognized because of something she accidentally posts or something that wouldn't be good to be blasted on news outlets years later goes down. Besides, when she turned 16, she negotiated to be the only one capable of signing in to her accounts for personal privacy sake, so none of Sam's 'Wanna suck mouth' or 'Bragging. I. Did. It. With Mon' gets seen by anyone other than her (or the friend group), anyway. It's practically second nature now, sending off her ideas, especially when she gets a response pretty quickly, but there are times where she wishes she could post that pic or this TikTok, except it makes her much too recognizable or not presentable.

The only picture she's managed to get approved of her and Sam is one where Mon's slightly behind her, her laughing face pressed against the side of her shoulder as Sam gives an unamused glare at Tee behind the camera. Mon hadn't really tried to submit too many, even though she wanted to celebrate her lover, because not only did Sam not really care for putting her own picture up online (versus the staged ones Tee, Kade, and Jim did), but Sam was recognizable herself, and potential diplomatic fallout was always a real worry as well. Instead, all her other pics are safely stored on her phone and backed up.

(Ironically, knowing that her own social media accounts were tempered and not a truly full illustration of who she was, Mon had still genuinely believed Sam's were because they matched up so perfectly with the teenager she had known and idolized.)

Speaking of photos, Mon knows she can't do anything about Tee, Kade, Jim, or Yuki (or sometimes Nop or her coworkers) taking pictures of her and posting them themselves, but she's managed to make it clear to all of them what kind of photos she doesn't want them to put up, and by and large her combination of earnest puppy dog eyes and firm requests pulling on their better natures (hah!) does the trick. Of course a few slip through and all Mon can do is hope they get buried and never see the light of day. (I'll let you use your imagination what those could be.)

Mon had wondered if Kade had recognized her when they first met, having known the actor had spent time in Europe, but what she didn't say during the interrogation had told her she hadn't. Which is nice. Kade is a dramatic sweetheart, and aside from telling everyone when she saw her and Sam kissing, she's been a very good friend. Mon had even mused to herself that if her secret ever got out, Kade would probably be the one who would understand it the most due to her lakorn work.

Mon always has to have her phone near in case it's a message or alert from her father or to her in capacity of a member of her royal family. She's so used to checking each alert or vibration as soon as they sound that it doesn't matter where she is or what she's doing. Very rarely does she turn her phone onto Do Not Disturb, but she has the important numbers set to ring anyway. She knows Sam thinks it's because of her being part of Gen Z, and to be honest, Mon plays it up a little. She has to when she does things like:

A vibration, and she's pulling her phone up in the middle of a presentation she's giving about Diversity Pop. A ding! and she's pulling back from Sam's arms to reach over to the bedside table to check Facebook. A ring, and she's excusing herself from the meeting between her, Sam, Kirk, and Noi to discuss her coming back to Diversity, reappearing twenty minutes later with a tight stressed look on her face that only changes into a new tight stressed look when she's informing Sam later that night that she has to fly to England the next day to take care of some things with her father.

((Under here is where the continuing fic is. Again, kinda rough because I'm trying to not let myself get too obsessed with making it perfect with these exploratory scenes.))

Sam stood up, crossing her arms as she turned to stare at Mon still sitting on the couch. "I thought you weren't going to England."

Mon looked up at her. "I'm not moving there, Lady Sam."

"Then why are you going?"

It was Sam's churlish tone, a step away from becoming angry as she obviously fought to keep from being accusatory, and Mon sighed, nodding. Leaning forward to reach out and slide her hand down Sam's rigid arm, she gently tugged her a little closer so she could use her in suggestion of needing to pull on her to stand up, Sam stubbornly lightly swaying with the motion as if in protest.

Once she was on her feet, Mon managed a smile at Sam, stroking her hands up to wrap around her tensed upper arms. "Lady Sam," she started gently, meeting her gaze, trying to put as much reassurance into her voice and expression as she could, "When I made plans to move there, my father set some things in motion for me and I need to visit him to help him undo them."

"Like what?" It was immediate. Petulant.

"I need to sign some documents, talk in person with a few people..." Studying Sam to make sure she was listening to her, Mon softened her voice even more. She knew Sam was struggling not to panic or jump to conclusions, but Mon needed to do this; needed to meet in person to explain why she wasn't fully assuming her royal status just yet like she had said she was. "My father really stuck his neck out for me, and I want to see him. Help in any way I can." Gently pulling on Sam's still crossed arms until she disentangled them to allow her to take her hands in hers, Mon squeezed them. "Even though I don't regret staying, I feel guilty. ...I have to make things right."

As much as Sam didn't want her to go, Mon didn't want to go either. Aside from seeing her father, there was nothing else in England that made her want to pull away from the lover she had just gotten back, and it hurt to think about being away from her at all. She had focused so intently on England in the past few months, even before deciding to move back, and part of her was just as afraid that if she left to go there, she would be never coming back.

Sam inhaled sharply, looking away. Her body still incredibly tense, she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut for a few moments before turning back. She stared at Mon. "And you're not staying there?"

Mon's heart cracked. She shook her head. "No, Lady Sam." She was going to do everything to make sure she came back. Leaning forward, she closed distance between them with a smile, Sam's gaze automatically dropping to flicker along her lips like they always did even if that was the furthest thing from her mind. "It should only be for a few days. A week at most." Pressing a kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth, Mon straightened back up. She wiggled Sam's hands in hers. "Once everything's settled, I'll be on the very next flight home." Mon knew she sounded more confident than she felt, and she gave Sam another smile. "I promise."

Sam looked at her intently, eyes darkening as she studied Mon's.

Mon gazed back up at her.

Please don't please don't please don't -

Sam did. She lifted her head. "No. I'm going with you."

Even though she had worried about Sam deciding that, Mon flinched, hoping she had misheard her. "What?"

Sam nodded firmly, her normal brash assertiveness suddenly filling her up again. She took over the handhold, fingers wrapping around Mon's slackened grip, tightening as she nodded again. "Yes! That's it. I'm going with you. We'll be together, and then we can even make a trip of it. Since you're already going to be flying, it will be perfect." She sounded excited, assured, certain that would solve the issues as her expression brightened.

No. No no no. Mon stared up at her in alarm. "You can't do that, Lady Sam."

Sam stopped, frowning at Mon. Her brow furrowed. "Why not?" This time, it was a little accusatory.

Mon drew in a breath. "Lady Grandmother still needs your help. I can't forgive myself if I take you away from her."

Blinking as if she hadn't thought about that, Sam dropped Mon's hands, and Mon curled them together in front of herself.

She continued. "And so does Diversity, with Yha and Chin and then myself coming back. The office needs you to keep everything running."

[[Fast forward to where Sam and Mon are sitting on the couch again after Sam argues that she doesn't need to stay while Mon sticks to convincing her she does need to stay, because I couldn't find the words and moved on]]

"I don't want you to go."

Mon knew it wasn't an order or request. It was a statement, Sam openly showing her her distress, trusting her with how she felt. Trusting her to be able to understand her.

"I just got you back. I don't want to lose you." Sam exhaled thickly, looking up to blink back tears before meeting Mon's gaze again. "Mon... Not again."

Reaching up, cupping Sam's face, Mon swallowed as tears gathered in her own eyes, her thumbs stroking along Sam's cheeks. "I know. If I could push it back any later, I would. We haven't had a lot of time together again, yet." She shook her head, sniffing. "But this is time sensitive. I have to go." Pulling Sam's unresisting head forward to press a soft, slow kiss to her lips, Sam kissing her back, Mon gave Sam the best smile she could muster before moving back in to kiss her again. "I'm not leaving you, Lady Sam." She stroked her fingers through Sam's hair, then dropped them to rest on her shoulders, Sam inhaling jerkily as she suddenly moved forward onto her lap, straddling her. Sliding her arms around Sam's shoulders and shivering as Sam's hands wrapped around her hips in turn, Mon leaned in to kiss her again. It was deeper, longer, Mon trying to press all her affection and love and feelings into it.

When Mon pulled back, Sam swallowed, expression disgruntled even as her hands slid along Mon's back, arms circling around her to pull her closer. "Mon. I know you're trying to distract me."

Mon gave her a small grin. "Is it working?" When Sam only sharpened her look at her, Mon sighed, nodding, and shifted to rest her chin on Sam's shoulder.

Going along with changing their embrace into a hug, Sam lay her head on Mon's.

Mon sat there, breathing against Sam, letting herself just be with her, something that still felt new again and special, something to hold onto with both hands in case this was just a temporary dream.

Finally, Sam swallowed, turning her chin to press a kiss into Mon's hair, her arms tightening momentarily around her. "You understood when I needed to go to Grandmother," she began, voice starting and stopping as if she was still gathering her thoughts as she spoke, "So it's only fair if I do the same for you. You spoke about love needing trust, so I need to trust you that you'll come back to me." Inhaling, Sam's voice broke when she finished in a rough whisper, "But Mon. I'm scared."

Mon's heart broke, and she moved back, taking in Sam's dark, vulnerable gaze. "Lady Sam..."

Sam shook her head, tears starting to build in her eyes again. "I'm scared," she repeated.

She didn't have to say what she was scared about, because Mon knew. It was too soon, still too raw that they had almost lost each other to the same place Mon now had to go to.

Opening her mouth, then thinking better of saying what she was going to, Mon sat up. Settling more of her weight back, towards Sam's lower thighs, she pulled Sam to her chest after a moment of her lover looking at her before closing her eyes and letting her, stroking her hair as she held her. As Sam leaned into her, wrapping around her as she allowed herself in turn to be held, it was strange, being the strong one for Sam, but Mon wanted to be that for her. Needed to show her that she could comfort her too.

"I love you, darling. So, so much. So I don't allow you to be scared," Mon murmured, calling back to the first time she slept over in what was now her and Sam's house. "Hmm? Do you hear me?" She squeezed Sam securely as she poured all her love into her voice, "We're not losing each other, Lady Sam. I'll be back here with you before you know it."

Sam exhaled, making Mon shiver as her warm breath passed through her blouse to caress along sensitive skin, and turned her head to press a lingering kiss to Mon's arm where it curled around her. "I love you too."

And for a little while, it was as simple as that.

#gap the series #monsam #sammon #royalty au!mon #khun sam #mon #kiarcheo #my fanfiction #offshoot rambly ramblings

28 notes · View notes

unicyclehippo · 7 years ago

Note

Please tell me you're writing the accidental marriage fic as a 'proper' fic. Like I rambled in tags I need to know everything! What are the seven steps exactly? How did they fulfill them? How is Kara going to tell Lena? How will Lena react? What do they do????? Please, I need it!!

yknow what i live for validation & encouragement so im gonna post a bit of it for yall tonight ok

they say that rao created the suns and stars and planets to keep him company, that he loved his creations for their beauty and order so much that he made krypton, and its people, to delight in it with him. they said—they said—he was so pleased with his children that he gave to them everything he had: wisdom, and passion, and strength, and intelligence, and within all of these gifts, his love.

she knows rao made order. a delicate, incredible dance. that rao set the rules of it all and made the music and the room to dance in, and the costumes, and the decorations, and the love and rhythm of their heartbeats—all of that, everything that exists, and somehow he couldn’t account for his tiny children running amok. couldn’t account for them making up their own rules, or for their countless missteps.

there was a stretch of time—a considerable stretch indeed—when kara hated him. because if rao had brought order to the universe, he missed a step. didn’t look far enough ahead to consider the end of his jewel, his love, his krypton.

kara read a lot when she came to earth, about religions and gods, both the divine and the fallible, but mostly she read about people. she was only thirteen when krypton—when it happened—but she remembers the quick thrum of her mothers pulse, fearful, and the way her father smiled at her with so much love in his eyes it burned, like he knew it was the last thing he would ever get to do and he wanted it to leave some kind of mark. well, it was, and it did. and she thinks a lot about choice and self and people and how it might have been easier for her if she hadn’t seen them right there. right next to her. how it still felt cruel to have seen them, and to have been made to leave them.

and the what ifs, that loud, endless wave of what ifs: what if one of them had gone with baby kal, what if they had made those stupid, stupid pods with room for two, what if her mother had never sent astra to the phantom zone, if non had never killed a guard, if kara had never called astra home, if someone had spoken up sooner, louder, more insistently, if her mother had just agreed to try, if generations ago the house of el had never even been formed—and everything stacks up on everything that came before and kara gets lost in it.

but there’s no point. there’s no point, because krypton is dead and left far behind, and that’s where it will stay.

all that remains of krypton is a fortress of toy relics, a man with her blood but the heart of a human, and shards of her dead planet. and her, still her. and there is no point in hating a god who died with the rest of her world.

years later, standing on the roof of national city’s tallest building—which isn’t catco, as much as cat might like to think it is—she hates him again.

the rain is so cold even she is shivering. head tilted up to the sky, she doesn’t both wiping away the torrent drenching her face, her hair. her cape drags heavy on her shoulders, a sopping weight, and she whips it to the side when it tangles around her ankle. the move flicks water off it like a spray of diamonds, shattering against the concrete where the rest of the water, the rest of the world, trembles at her step. she paces the roof of the building, eyes fixed on some distant point, the heart of the storm.

there comes a sound that only she can hear, and she pauses at the corner of the building. poised there, lightning cracks and illuminates her against the backdrop of a broiling, immense storm. it cloaks the whole city in shadow, clings to everything with its misted tendrils, and she is no exception. she would be engulfed in it, but for the power gathered behind her eyes—white-hot and furious.

and when the thunder drums again, like a call to war, kara’s edges are sharp enough to be a war all by herself.

lightning cracks the sky wide open. thunder follows it instantly in a boom. the wind that comes tearing flings back kara’s hair, her cape, shudders against the windows stories far below her feet.

kara clenches her jaw, braces herself against it. her eyes flash hotter.

she saw diana catch lightning in her hands once, knows better than most that many things in the world are more than they are given credit for. this storm is more than crashing particles—this is her challenge, her fight, and by everything that exists in this world, rao will hear her!

“DUAHZ VOIEHD KRYPTAHNIUM,” she yells up to the clouds.

the thunder rolls. grumbles, shatters into itself.

“TA-RRIV RRAOP-RAO RAOGRYHS PAHDH IRSTUN OSH KHAP!”

she gets no answer save the lightning that zips down toward her and kara’s eyes flash. she grits her teeth around a scream and launches herself right at it, catches it on the bands diana gifted her and doesn’t stop, punches right up through the clouds to the heart of the storm. she winds the lightning around her, grips it tight.

“rao,” she yells, voice dragged raw.

the wind is stronger here and it whips her hair across her face, stinging, and everything tastes like hot metal and salt water. she holds tight to the lightning just to feel it burn. feels the answering sting in a line down her chest, sternum to navel. “rao, ta-irstun rraop-rao pahdh voiehd? khap eiahm,” she whispers. the words are tugged from her, ripped from her lips. she wills it out, up, to the right ears. the right heart. “khap eiahm, ewuhsh gehd.”

a formal introduction; or, skulir: verb, the active form: to look, to examine.

kara is six years old when she finds out that she will have a husband. she considers it for two days, silently, before bringing it up to anyone.

a tall figure in blue—that’s all kara can see under her thin blanket—stands in the doorway of her bedroom. “your mother says you’re not well. do you want to come out from under that blanket?”

“no.”

“no?” the bed creaks as she sits on kara’s bed. “then perhaps i shall sit here with you. is that alright?” kara murmurs her assent, scoots over a little to make space in the bed. “i brought your stars, little one. are you sure you don’t want to see them? we were only partway through the primaries.” astra waits a moment for kara’s response. when it doesn’t come immediately, she offers, “you may hold the star jar, if you wish.”

kara kicks her feet under the blanket as she considers that.

finally, she pulls down the covers. “just the stars?” she asks, fixing her aunt with a suspicious look.

astra leans over, presses a kiss to her forehead. “just the stars,” she promises, and kara rolls around in her bed, bundles the blankets around herself, and thumps down into astra’s lap. her aunt pulls her close, strokes her hair back from her forehead.

“there is my darling star,” she murmurs. she activates the holo-reader—kara’s ‘star jar’—and scatters the stars across the ceiling. once it’s active, she allows kara to hold it in her little hands.

kara stays there, tucked up into astra, listening to her explaining the primary stars and astra cards her fingers down her long hair until kara’s nervous gut unclenches and she asks what has been bothering her.

“does everyone get married?”

astra’s voice falters, and then stops. she looks down at her niece, bemused by the topic change. “married?”

“fardhogh-cheh says that everyone gets married. that parents pick someone and then you have to spend your whole life with them.”

“did he put it like that?” astra crooks a finger under kara’s chin, tilts it up to look at her. “hmm, little one?” she tickles under kara’s chin and astra’s eyes, so clear and fond, are brighter than rao’s midday light. kara cuddles into her, ducks her head again. “have you been concerned about this?”

“...no.”

astra tickles at kara’s shoulder, makes her squirm. “for how long?”

“…two days.”

“i see. you do like to keep things to yourself, don’t you, little one?” kara shrugs. “well, it is nothing to be concerned about. marriage is a union between families.”

“who will it be?”

“he will be of good standing—”

“will he be nice?” kara asks, and with it comes the flood of questions that have blinded her for the last few days. “do i know them? how long do i have? what happens? do i have to get married? do i get to choose him? why do i have to get married? what does it do? is it scary?”

“these are a lot of questions.”

“i have a lot of questions,” kara agrees quietly.

“a curious mind can be dangerous, little one,”

“questions are good!” she argues, struggles to sit up and away, and astra nods. she helps kara, tries not to laugh at the bundle of a girl who wriggles away, irate at the suggestion that questions might not be a good thing.

“always. but you should share them with your family or else you may get lost in them.” astra strokes down her cheek. “and i would not like that.”

“oh.” kara waits a moment. “so?”

astra glances away, tries not to smile. “your betrothed,” she tells her niece, “will be chosen by your family, we who love you. we will not let you be bonded to someone unworthy, not when you are more precious to us than all else.”

“but what’s the point?”

“marriage is a union. do you know of shokh?”

“truth,” kara nods impatiently. “the first virtue.”

“the primary virtue, yes, on which we base all dealings. shokh is the virtue all unions are based on. a family would never agree to a union without first knowing who their beloved shall be bonded to, just as one would never agree to an alliance or business without knowing who extends their hand. it is a virtue that persists throughout a union—shokh is constant. unwavering. it is about learning and knowledge and discovery. sharing.” she hugs kara to her, strokes her hair again, out of her thoughtful eyes. “does that make sense, little one?”

“yes. but,” kara smiles, a little shy, when astra laughs. “i have more questions.”

“of course you do. share them with me,” she encourages, sets the star field aside for another night.

alura joins them later, knocking gently on kara’s bedroom door. she peeks in, relaxes against the door when she sees them curled there.

“you are feeling better then, kara?” kara nods—sheepish, small in her aunt’s arms, but she nods. “i’m so glad. you’ve had us worried. we had to call in reinforcements.”

“reinforcements?” kara sits up quickly, looks back over her shoulder at her aunt. “you’re reinforcements?”

astra laughs, throws her head back. “your parents were worried.” she lets kara go when she wriggles away from her, goes to stand defiant in the centre of the room, her little frown stern and her little arms crossed. “do not be displeased with me, little one.”

kara considers the request for a time, before she flicks her hair back over her shoulders and walks out of the room. she makes her way out of their home and down the long corridor before loud steps follow her and she breaks into a run before zor-el plucks her clean off the ground and carries her home.

“i’m mad at you.”

“it was your mother’s idea,” he tells her, in that low rumble of a voice she loves so much. she leans back into his chest—but keeps her arms folded to show her displeasure.

#tagging my stories #this isn't the full first part im just dumping this #anyway lol #enjoy #supergirl #kiarcheo

125 notes · View notes