Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Planet Status: Warrior World. Queen Maxima presiding.

MAXIMA: "Let it be known that, during any diplomatic conference on Almerac, excessive displays of affection are strictly forbidden."

KARA (grinning, already holding Mon-El's hand): "Define excessive."

MON-EL: "Yeah, is kissing during a formal toast excessive? Because that's kind of our thing."

MAXIMA (dryly): "Yes. That would qualify."

KARA (whispering): "She didn’t say we couldn’t hold hands though."

MON-EL: "Loophooooole!"

(They hold hands the entire meeting, Kara sitting on Mon-El’s lap during the final signing. Maxima visibly twitches.)

The chamber was vast—carved stone and echoing voices. Almerac’s diplomatic hall looked more like a battle arena than a council room, complete with obsidian weapon displays and hovering droids monitoring behavior. Kara and Mon-El had been seated across from Queen Maxima and her entourage, though they very quickly made it one seat.

"Mon-El, scoot closer," Kara whispered, already swinging her legs over his lap.

"I’m as close as physically possible without fusing into you," he murmured back, wrapping his arm around her waist.

MAXIMA: "Your Highnesses, I ask again—does Daxam or Krypton have a position on the mineral trade routes proposed in Section Seven?"

MON-EL: "We agree, but only if Kara gets to name one of the new mineral lanes."

KARA (cheerfully): "Snuggleway Alpha."

ZOR-EL (over holo-call, facepalm evident): "Kara, please. We’ve talked about branding."

ASTRA (cutting in with a growl): "You’re not naming trade infrastructure like a plush toy aisle."

NON: "Unless we’re exporting pillows."

MAXIMA (gritting her teeth): "This is a formal proceeding, not a honeymoon."

KARA: "Why not both?"

The final treaty was signed with Mon-El holding Kara’s hand while she doodled little heart-shaped stars on the edge of the formal documentation. Queen Maxima’s aides reportedly had to take stress breaks after the fourth time Mon-El kissed Kara’s temple mid-speech.

Later, Maxima was seen muttering, “I should have banned eye contact, too,” while updating her planetary diplomatic guide.

Back aboard their ship, Kara sprawled across Mon-El’s chest, kicking her feet in the air like a teenager.

KARA: "One down, thirty to go. And I think we made a stellar impression."

MON-EL (smirking): "If by stellar, you mean Maxima nearly called security on us? Then yes."

KARA: "Mission success."

Chapter Text

Colu—home of the hyper-intelligent Coluans and the origin planet of Brainiac. Their society is built on logic, order, and efficiency. No wasted time. No emotional entanglements. Definitely no public displays of affection.

Unfortunately for Colu, they had scheduled Kara Zor-El and Mon-El of Daxam.

Their arrival was marked by a silent docking procedure, perfectly executed by automated drones. The ship's AI announced, “Welcome to Colu. Emotional expression has been deemed inefficient. Please adhere to our behavioral parameters.”

"You hear that?" Kara whispered, elbowing Mon-El. "They made a robot tell us not to be cute."

Mon-El grinned, catching her hand and giving it a dramatic kiss. "Scandalous. That should deduct at least 0.2% efficiency."

The Coluan diplomatic committee stood at the edge of a pristine plaza, their luminous green skin glowing under the artificial sky dome. Leading them was High Thinker Vron, whose expression remained perfectly neutral as he addressed the couple.

"Welcome, royal emissaries. Be advised: displays of romantic or emotional nature will disrupt our societal efficiency. Please remain a minimum of twelve inches apart."

Kara and Mon-El looked at each other.

Mon-El raised a brow. "We literally can’t be more than five feet apart. You know, bondmate magic..."

"We're in the early stage of the Pairing," Kara added, gesturing vaguely. "Separation causes dizziness, nausea, and tragic levels of yearning."

Vron blinked once. "Noted. Remain within five feet, then. But please refrain from—"

Mon-El interrupted, grabbing Kara around the waist and spinning her in a slow, overly dramatic dip. "Flirting? What flirting? This is just... graceful cooperation."

"And diplomatic synergy!" Kara declared, poking his nose as he dipped her lower.

Back at the DEO, watching from a diplomatic broadcast, Alura Zor-El let her head fall into her hands.

"Why are they like this?" she whispered.

Astra crossed her arms and huffed. "I trained Kara better than this. Clearly Mon-El is the problem."

"Excuse me?" Rhea snapped from her seat beside Alura. "My son was a model prince before your daughter infected him with whatever Kryptonian nonsense this is."

Zor-El sighed. "Can we focus on the mission instead of who corrupted whom?"

On the ground in Colu, Kara and Mon-El were now seated across from the Coluan delegates at a negotiation table.

"Let us discuss the alliance terms," Vron began. "Colu proposes a mutual defense pact, regulated information exchanges, and access to Daxamite and Kryptonian star charts."

Mon-El nodded. "Sounds great. But only if you throw in one more thing."

Vron frowned. "Which is?"

"An official Coluan holiday," Kara grinned. "Called... I dunno, Hug Day?"

Vron's processing screen behind him flickered red.

"Joking," Mon-El said quickly, holding up his hands. "She's joking. Probably."

"Possibly," Kara added, smirking.

Vron exhaled. "The alliance will be approved pending signature. Please sign here. And refrain from nuzzling the datapads."

Kara, already halfway into resting her head on Mon-El's shoulder, froze. "Do forehead touches count as nuzzling?"

"Yes."

"Drat."

As they signed the treaty, one Coluan aide muttered to another, "Are we sure these two aren't a virus in humanoid form?"

As the diplomatic shuttle departed, the Coluan planetary network updated its universal protocol document:

New Interstellar Law on Colu: "Kara & Mon-El Clause" - All future romantic diplomatic envoys must be reviewed for excessive clinginess, levity, and illogical behavior.

In the cockpit, Kara leaned on Mon-El's shoulder and giggled. "We’re making galactic history, babe."

Mon-El grinned. "We should put that on our next diplomatic crest: 'Making Treaties & Trouble Since Day One.'"

"And maybe a little embroidered heart."

"And sparkles."

Somewhere in the DEO command center, Jor-El groaned, "By Rao, they're only two planets in..."

Chapter Text

Planet Status — Environmental Vanguard. Council of Elders Presiding.
BARVEX: "Let it be known that affection-based emissions are strictly prohibited in the Forest Halls of Barvex. The wildlife reacts... poorly."
KARA (already nose-to-nose with Mon-El): "What kind of emissions, exactly?"
MON-EL: "Because I’m told I emit pure charm."
BARVEX ELDER: "Emotional pheromones. Heart-rate spikes. Giggling. Please don’t giggle."
KARA (whispering): "We are so getting banned from here."

Barvex smelled like moss, rain, and judgment. Thick jungle foliage blanketed the Council Hall, which was, in fact, a massive hollowed-out tree. Bioluminescent vines glowed softly along the bark walls. Birds chirped in rhythmic patterns that Barvexians insisted were diplomatic signals.

High Elder Rhayl, whose beard was braided with bark and ivy, stepped forward and bowed.
"We welcome Krypton and Daxam. May your intentions be as pure as unpolluted springwater."

Mon-El bowed back, tugging Kara slightly forward with him.
"Of course, Elder Rhayl. Our mission is pure. Pure chaos—er, collaboration."

Kara added brightly, "And we’re really excited to be here! Your flora’s beautiful. So are your bioluminescent bats."
She waved at one fluttering above. It screamed and flew directly into a tree.

A junior elder winced. "You may want to moderate your excitement. The forest reacts to emotional surges."
"Well, that explains my hair frizzing," Mon-El murmured, batting away a static-charged flower.

A branch above them popped open, spraying glowing pollen into the air.
Kara promptly sneezed into Mon-El’s shoulder.
Rhayl frowned. "Please refrain from exchanging spores."
Mon-El blinked. "That wasn’t intentional."
Kara grinned. "We're just allergic to rules."

From a high-up hologram projector, Alura Zor-El’s voice echoed faintly.
"Kara, sweetie, please—we’re three planets into this. I am begging you to take one of them seriously."
Kara waved at the sky. "Hi, Mom!"
Mon-El leaned in. "Wave with both hands, she loves that."
Kara obeyed, then immediately lost balance and fell right into Mon-El’s arms with a giggle.
A small flock of birds exploded out of a nearby tree.

Back on Krypton, Astra glared at the broadcast screen.
"This is undisciplined. Kara knows better."
Non nodded grimly. "If this were military procedure, she’d be on latrine duty for a month."
Rhea threw up her hands. "You’re all so serious. Maybe a little affection wouldn’t kill your forests."
"Actually," Zor-El chimed in, "on Barvex, it might."

Back in the Forest Hall, Rhayl cleared his throat, then motioned to the negotiation scroll—a literal scroll made from bark parchment.
"The alliance proposal includes: environmental defense clauses, shared wildlife conservation protocols, and the anti-poaching initiative."
Kara nodded. "All sounds good. Except one thing—"
"Here we go," Mon-El muttered, grinning.

Kara beamed. "Can we name the joint forest patrol after us? Like... Team Hugbug?"
A small animal in the rafters fainted.

"Absolutely not," Rhayl snapped, vines on his staff curling slightly.
"Okay, okay, backup plan." Mon-El offered a wide grin. "How about Snuggle Brigade? Hugonauts? S.W.E.E.T.: Super-Warm Environmental Enforcement Team?"
One of the junior elders fainted.

Back at DEO HQ, Kal-El dropped his head to the table. "I think my brain short-circuited from secondhand embarrassment."
Jor-El stared at the screen, horrified. "Are they... branding the alliance?"
"They’re always branding something," muttered Astra.
Rhea sipped her wine. "It’s innovative."

Eventually, the treaty was signed—though only after Kara convinced a Barvexian elder to let her use flower ink to draw tiny vines around their joint emblems. Mon-El added a heart.
As the Council glared, Kara leaned back into Mon-El’s chest and sighed. "That went well."

A glowing fern beside them wilted.

As the diplomatic shuttle lifted off, Rhayl turned to his aide.
"Update the planetary behavioral protocols. New clause: No romantic entanglements allowed within twenty kilometers of negotiation sites. We’ll call it the Hugbug Exclusion Zone."

Back on the ship, Kara sprawled across Mon-El’s lap and flipped through a holographic photo of the tree treaty.
"That one vine I drew looks like a snuggling ferret."
Mon-El laughed. "Symbolic. Ferrets mate for life, right?"
"That’s swans."
"Whatever. Close enough."
He kissed her cheek.
Outside the window, a Barvexian tree shed its petals like it just gave up.

At DEO HQ, Hologram Rhea sighed deeply.
"Can I just say... Snuggleon Prime is starting to sound better than diplomacy."
"Agreed," said Alura, groaning. "Let’s give them their own planet and keep them contained."
Zor-El: "You think that'll stop them?"
Kal-El: "They’ll start diplomatic podcasts."
Astra: "Or worse. Matching uniforms."
Non (quietly): "...I kind of want one."

Next Planet: Durla. Status: Shapeshifter Civilization. Cloaking rituals required.
MON-EL: "So... they change shape based on emotion?"
KARA (smirking): "Good thing we’re a walking emotional disaster."

Chapter Text

Planet Status: Shifting Shadows. Durla is a planet of shapeshifters, renowned for its espionage expertise, stealth tech, and extreme emphasis on discretion and emotional control. Durla doesn’t just frown upon public affection—it doesn’t even have public affection. Because on Durla, anything expressive is exploitable.

As the diplomatic cruiser descended through Durla’s misty upper atmosphere, Kara was already braiding her hair back, bouncing slightly on her heels in anticipation.

KARA: "Okay, okay. Ground rules—no dorking out, no affection, no being in love in public. Got it. Totally got it."
MON-EL (suspiciously calm): "So, business only. Fully professional."
KARA: "Professionalism is my middle name."
MON-EL: "Pretty sure it’s Zor-El."
KARA: "You get what I mean."

The ship's ramp hissed open, revealing a delegation of identical figures—tall, slate-gray beings with expressionless faces, standing at precise intervals. One of them stepped forward and morphed mid-step into a more humanoid form: long dark coat, silver-lined robes, emotionless eyes.

DURLAN ENVOY: "Welcome, emissaries. On Durla, form is function. Emotion is camouflage. Closeness breeds vulnerability."
KARA (smiling too brightly): "Nice to meet you!"
MON-EL (nudging her gently): "She means—uh—'Acknowledged with neutral intent.'"
KARA: "Right, right. Super neutral. Like soup."

They were escorted into a dimly lit chamber, walls shifting subtly in hue as if reacting to breath and sound. No seats. No decoration. No temperature variation. Kara reached for Mon-El’s hand automatically.

DURLAN ENVOY (instantly): "Please maintain a minimum of six inches distance. Any physical contact will be read as a strategic signal and may provoke political misinterpretation."
KARA (whispering): "You know what I heard? 'Make strategic signals.'"
MON-EL (whispering back): "I mean, diplomatic sabotage is technically an act of war… but also sounds kind of fun."

The Durlan began the formal address.

DURLAN ENVOY: "We seek alliance through covert intel sharing and mutual cloaking tech enhancements. Non-emotional collaboration is imperative."
MON-EL: "Sure, totally emotionless. I, for one, am a joyless robot of diplomacy."
KARA: "Confirmed. I've never smiled in my life. This isn’t a smile. This is a war grimace."

Behind them, the DEO broadcast feed had gone entirely silent. Rhea was rubbing her temples like she was attempting to erase her brain through pressure. Astra was mumbling something in Kryptonian that likely translated to "End me."

ZOR-EL (from the broadcast booth): "I should have arranged solo missions."
JOR-EL (with a deadpan sigh): "And deprive the galaxy of Snuggleway Alpha?"
ALURA: "They’re infectious. This is galactic plague-level affection."
ASTRA: "I have trained elite soldiers with less attachment than those two display while reviewing tactical maps."
RHEA: "I once watched Mon-El eat dirt as a child, and this is somehow more embarrassing."

On Durla, Kara and Mon-El had found the loophole.

KARA: "Wait. So we can’t touch, but can we mirror each other’s body language?"
DURLAN ENVOY: "Technically… yes. Mimicry is foundational on Durla."
MON-EL: "Fantastic. Prepare for synchronized diplomacy."

For the next forty-five minutes, Kara and Mon-El flawlessly mimicked each other’s movements. Crossing legs at the same time. Folding arms in sync. Blinking in a matched rhythm. When one tilted their head, the other mirrored it instantly.

At one point, a Durlan aide quietly hissed, "Are they mocking us or mating?"
No one could answer.

Finally, after the documents were presented, Kara stood at perfect posture and announced, "We will now sign... with perfect formality and zero emotion."
She signed the paper, then winked.
Mon-El added a heart next to his signature.
KARA: "Professional heart. Symbolic of interplanetary synergy."
DURLAN ENVOY (blinking too fast): "You may depart."

As the ship left orbit, Kara flopped into the co-pilot seat and groaned happily.

KARA: "That went great!"
MON-EL: "Honestly, we’re getting really good at this."
KARA: "They didn’t arrest us. So. Win."
MON-EL: "What do you think they'll call the new clause in the Durlan diplomatic handbook?"
KARA (grinning): "Operation Emotional Saboteurs."
MON-EL: "Or 'The Hugplague.'"

Back at the DEO, Kal-El had taken to staring blankly at the monitor.

KAL-EL: "I used to think I was the embarrassing cousin. I miss those days."
NON (grumbling): "I will take a team of soldiers to Thanagar before I babysit them again."
RHEA: "Why do they act like the universe is their wedding reception?"
ASTRA: "Because they’re unstoppable."

As the cruiser shot into hyperlight, a new transmission pinged across the universal diplomatic network:

⚠️ New Policy: The "Hugplague Accord" — Any species known to exhibit extreme mutual attachment should be reviewed for psychological warfare risk before formal engagements.

Kara sipped her smoothie and reached for Mon-El’s hand.

KARA: "Next stop: Earth."
MON-EL (deadpan): "Surely that planet won’t have weird rules."
KARA: "Oh, Earth loves us."
MON-EL: "You say that now."

And somewhere in the DEO hallway, Winn muttered, “We’re so doomed.”

Chapter Text

Planet Status: Overly familiar. Earth is the home planet of Kara Zor-El’s adopted identity—Supergirl—and Mon-El’s previous residency. It’s full of coffee, chaos, and confused humans. Earth is also the only planet where their PDA is considered ‘cute’ instead of ‘strategically destabilizing.’ That doesn’t make it safer. Just more… documented.

The moment the diplomatic cruiser hit Earth’s atmosphere, Kara was already texting Alex.

KARA:
on our way down! pls hide any breakable objects + warn the president we’re feeling snuggly <3
ALEX:
you’re LITERALLY representing the galactic council
KARA:
exactly. hugs = diplomacy.
ALEX:
...mom’s watching this.

The DEO launch bay was filled with high-ranking officials, journalists, scientists, and—God help them—Cat Grant with a camera crew.

CAT: "Smile, Supergirl. Let’s make intergalactic peace look marketable."
KARA: "Peace is very on-brand for us."
MON-EL (smirking): "So is public cuddling."

The ramp lowered. Kara and Mon-El descended hand-in-hand like royal diplomats… from a rom-com.

President Marsdin greeted them in a sharp navy suit and forced smile that screamed please don’t kiss in front of Congress again.

MARSDIN: "Welcome back to Earth, Emissaries. You look… close."
KARA: "Emotion is the universal language!"
MON-EL: "And we’re fluent."
ALEX (off to the side): "We are going to get sanctioned by ourselves."

The pair were escorted into a press room full of blinking cameras, bright lights, and one lone White Martian ambassador who looked absolutely done with everything.

Kara launched into her speech, completely unsupervised.

KARA: "As representatives of the Galactic Unity Accord, Mon-El and I have traveled across solar systems, kissing in the name of peace—"
ALEX: "—Working in the name of peace—"
KARA: "—and we come home to Earth bearing a message: love knows no planetary boundary!"
MON-EL: "And diplomatic immunity is a beautiful thing."

A journalist raised her hand.

REPORTER: "Kara, how do you respond to the viral footage of you and Prince Mon-El slow-dancing in zero gravity on Rann during their funeral procession?"
KARA: "Okay. To be clear, it was a commemorative float. And their music is very misleading."
MON-EL: "It sounded like a waltz. We waltzed. It’s called cultural integration."

Meanwhile, the Daxamite and Kryptonian parents were gathered in a UN observation booth.

ASTRA: "They are Earth’s problem now."
JOR-EL: "I take comfort in that."
RHEA: "I had such high hopes."
ZOR-EL: "They’re in love. Deeply. Disgustingly. Resiliently."
ALURA: "They’re what happens when you mix sunshine and sleep deprivation."

Back on the stage, Mon-El tried to present a gift to Earth.

MON-EL: "In honor of Earth’s support of intergalactic diplomacy, we present this artifact from the Tormax Nebula—an orb of eternal resonance."
KARA: "It hums when it senses affection!"
(It immediately started humming like a dying whale.)

CAT (aside to the camera crew): "Get that soundbite. That’s going viral with a Lana Del Rey backing track."

Then it happened.

Someone shouted: “KISS FOR PEACE!”

Kara blinked.

Mon-El blinked.

Then they shrugged… and kissed.

Hard.

Dramatically.

With dip and twirl and twinkly music that wasn't even playing but somehow felt like it should’ve been.

MARSDIN (through gritted teeth): "I will personally write the ethics report for this."
ALEX (screaming into her communicator): "J'onn, initiate fire drill. Now. N-O-W."
J'ONN (telepathically): I tried. They're stronger than the sprinkler system.

Somewhere in the shadows of the DEO, Brainy just stared at his data tablet and muttered:

BRAINY: "At this point, I’m just charting the social destabilization metrics. For science."
LENA: "Are the numbers high?"
BRAINY: "Let’s just say there’s now a fandom. With merch."

By the end of the day:

• Kara had declared National Hug a Hero Day.

• Mon-El had accidentally signed Earth up for a “Universal Affection Accord.”

• And five different planets sent strongly worded letters saying:

  “We will not be attending any peace talks that involve twirling.”

Back aboard their ship, Kara kicked her boots off, stretched, and smiled.

KARA: "Earth was the easiest one yet."
MON-EL: "We only broke one law this time. Progress."
KARA: "I call that growth."
MON-EL: "I call it love."

Outside their window, a new alert pinged across the Galactic Diplomatic Network:

⚠️ New Protocol: All Earth-based diplomatic visits must now include romantic conduct disclaimers. Earthlings are... enthusiastic.

The camera cut to Cat Grant already selling “Snuggle Diplomacy” t-shirts.

ALEX (watching the footage):
"...I give up."