#kleyamaarki

[moonhips]

MerMon for MerMay! 🧜‍♀️ // what the water gave me by 324b2fun @kleyamaarki

[monkleya]

for the prompt game! monkleya + kissing scars 🫶🏼

the way i ran to open an ellipsus doc after getting this last night lmfao. hope u enjoy!!

(also minor spoilers for anyone who hasn't read mask of fear)

31.) kissing scars

Kleya traces the scar on Mon's abdomen almost absentmindedly. Almost. Kleya never does anything absentmindedly, everything has a purpose with her. The question lingers in the silence between them. Kleya's finger gingerly skims along the old scar, back and forth. A comforting rhythm. Mon suppresses a shiver. The bacta had healed her, but it left the scars. Ugly, permanent reminders of what had happened to her—of what she'd done. On some level, she supposes, she deserves it. Mon had always felt particularly shy about them. Self conscious in a way that she was not used to. Ashamed. Exposed. Perrin had seen them—because of course he had, there wasn't an easy way to hide them any time they were intimate with one another. He had never outright said anything about them, not the jagged one down her sternum, nor the longer one across her stomach. But they'd been less intimate afterwards, as if the scars had rendered her undesirable. Mon mentally prepares herself for a conversation she'd rather not have. Eventually, she decides, but not now. She doesn't want to relive memories she's spent a little over a decade trying to forget. Instead, Kleya shifts, pressing a feather-light kiss to the scar. It's gentle, reverent, almost, with a softness that takes Mon completely by surprise. Anything she'd planned to say dies in her throat, and it's only made worse when Kleya presses another kiss—this one firmer, but still overwhelmingly tender—to the jagged scar on Mon's sternum. As if she's trying to kiss away the shame and the ugliness that Mon has associated with them. Kleya looks up to meet her gaze, the question is still lingering in the space between them, but it doesn't seem to hurt as it once did.

send me a ship and a prompt

[moonhips]

She began to leave, only to stop when Mon called out, "Kleya!" When she turned back, Mon was standing there with flushed cheeks as she held out one of the roses from her bouquet. "It's unfortunate that I didn't buy it for you myself, but…" She shrugged, smiling shyly. "You deserve something today as well."

Kleya softened and took the rose. She twirled it in her grasp and smiled at Mon. "I love you," she said quietly.

Mon brightened. "I love you too. Now, get to class." - Collab piece for @kleyamaarki's sweet vday fic "recollection"🌹💐

[moonhips]

Coach Mon!! ⛸️ // Choreomania by 324b2fun @kleyamaarki

[moonhips]

“Simply enjoying how handsy you are when you're drunk.” — sagrona by 324b2fun Drunk handsy Mon and some cute scenes for @kleyamaarki and their lovely established monkleya fic

[moonhips]

"What was that for?" Kleya asked.

Mon felt those three words on the tip of her tongue, as they were so often these days. She swallowed them, once again, and replied, "I wanted to." Collab piece for @kleyamaarki's lovely holiday fic "those three words"! 🌿🍒

[monkleya]

GODDESS AU 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

RAHHHH GODDESS AU 🗣️ this is technically more than 100 words (255 according to scrivener lmfao) but it felt wrong to cut this to any less so. pls enjoy!🙂‍↕️

“I'm not a healer,” admits the goddess, “but even I know you cannot risk an infection.” Despite the argument Kleya wants to make, that she needs no pity and least of all from strangers, she knows the goddess is right. “Please, allow me to help you.” Kleya does not trust this, but it will do no good to die from infection before she can get this information to Luthen. So, she sighs, “Fine.” Mon motions for her to follow, leading her to a large water basin with crystalline clear water—briefly Kleya wonders how the water could look so clean if this whole place has been in ruins for so long—where she pats the stone edge for Kleya to sit. Body on autopilot, Kleya moves to take her damaged jerkin and shirt off, gritting her teeth through the pain and swallowing it down. Her left hand trembles as she reaches for one of the buckles, and she curses herself and her body for betraying such weakness. It's no worse than anything she's endured before. But a pair of soft, warm hands stop her. “Let me,” Mon says, already working the buckles and gently prying the jerkin off of Kleya. The shirt next, which is infinitely more painful—despite how gentle Mon may be—and more damaged than the jerkin. Kleya works her jaw, but a hiss of pain escapes her when the remains of the shirt tug on her arm and force her to twist in a way that upsets her definitely bruised ribs.

help me write

[monkleya]

hanahaki au 👀

bc i've separated these into Kleya Version and Mon Version (bc strangely enough they both work) im giving you what i have in my notes for the mon version lmao.

teensy tiny little snippet under the cut!!

"You didn't think to inform anyone?" Kleya snaps. "What did you think would happen?"

Mon blinks, unsure of what to say. "I don't—"

"You are too important for something like this. Do you really think anyone else would be suited for your position?" Kleya paces, ire burning hotter and hotter with each passing step. "Did you think that it would be honorable? That you would be, what, a martyr?" She spits, words like daggers aimed and ready to fire. But she stops, anger still blazing—Mon can see the wildfire in her eyes—but her voice is steady when it comes out. "The Rebellion cannot afford to lose you."

Mon knows when there are words unspoken. Knows when there are double meanings for her to pick up on. All those years as a senator, she had to learn these things. But there's something in the way Kleya says that, something that makes it sound like Kleya's hiding something underneath it.