Clexa from any story

Lexa wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She blinked owlishly, trying to kickstart her brain into forming an answer. Finally, she smoothed sweaty strands of hair back from her wife’s forehead. “My love, that’s just not how this works. You know that.”

“Oh. So now you’re telling me what I know?”

Blowing out a breath, Lexa quite literally bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing. “No, Clarke. I just mean that this isn’t something we can undo.”

“In other words,” Raven cut in, wincing as Clarke shouted and squeezed her hand again, “No takesies backsies on the baby. No returns allowed.”

For a long moment, there was no talking. Clarke hissed and groaned and shouted and glared at her wife.

Once she relaxed again, Lexa pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “I know this seems never ending but you’re doing so well!”

Jedi bashing Warning

I love Obi-wan, but he was not the best master for a student. He became a full Jedi early and immediately got an apprentice afterwards, when usually it's a few years before a knight even thinks about getting one. He still had a lot to learn and he wasn't given any time to grieve, though Yoda would probably tell him to 'let it go into the force'. Speaking of, I really don't think the Jedi's way of handling emotion is very healthy. Look at how Anakin turned out. Why did they let a toddler be alone with a politician??? Who cares if he's a senator, most politicians are corrupt and he was like 40 years older. WHY DID THEY LEAVE A LITERAL CHILD WITH AN OLD, SUSPICIOUSLY MOTIVATED MAN? Why did Anakin feel like he only had Palps to turn to? Why didn't he have a bigger support system? Obi-wan tried, but he wasn't entirely up to the task. He didn't know what to do with a kid, especially a kid who Qui-gon was so ready to have replace him. The Jedi council didn't want to train Anakin from the beginning because he was "too old" and that probably helped with him believing the council hated him and not trusting them. So there Anakin was, close to 0 friends because he didn't have any age mates who he grew up with, a mentor who wasn't ready to mentor, and a council that he distrusted and they distrusted him in turn. Is it really a wonder how he turned out? Also, the 'no attachments' rule is absolute (excuse my language) BULLSHIT. I understand their philosophy of "being attached to someone leads to the dark side", at least a little, but what it should be is "you can have attachments as long as you are able to let them go when the time comes". Anakin's 'attachment' is what saved Ashoka and Barriss when they were buried in rubble in that one clone wars episode. The Jedi have forgotten the distinction between knowing when to stop, and knowing when continuing is what's gonna keep people from dying. They're "peacekeepers" supposedly, but what does that mean? True peace would be, as Ultron did in What If, the total destruction of everything. The elimination of the universe and all life in it. Jedi keep the peace, but there was never any peace in a galaxy where there are differences that have caused conflict and always will cause conflict. Peacekeeping is a noble but absolutely useless ideal that is utterly impossible to achieve. What the Jedi should have been was protectors. They should have protected the innocent, dug out the corrupt, ended slavery, they should have actually DONE something instead of sitting in their temple and answering to the beck and call of some government. Why the hell did they build their temple on coruscant of all places? They should've gotten their own planet and underground information web to supply their mission assignments. Be their own task force to liberate the oppressed, supply those in need, give "villains" therapy, that kind of thing. But they weren't. And Luke tried to recreate the Jedi Order (off of very, very limited information btw) so really that was gonna end badly either way. Don't hang on to the past man, should've made that hero task force. The Jedi weren't perfect like they tried to be, so don't try to be perfect. Perfection is an opinion. What you can do, is try your best. Try to be your best, do your best, and do it with the support of your friends and family. If normal people can have attachments without going off and murdering people with their guns and blasters, the Jedi could've too. They just needed a support system and a therapist or five.

And I haven't even MENTIONED ethicality of the clone wars. God that was such a mess. Thank the lord this is all fiction.

"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚, 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒏, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔."- 𝐷𝑟. 𝐿𝑦𝑜𝑠𝒉𝑎 𝐵𝑜𝑦𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑

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𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟. '𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥!' 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐨'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦, 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡-𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐭-𝐣𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞! 𝐀𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭- 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝...

𝐒𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰- 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 '𝐧𝐮𝐭-𝐣𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥'. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭.

𝐎𝐫, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫. 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐠? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐈'𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

𝐎𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬. 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐲? 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫, 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲. 𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬. 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐭. 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐝, 𝐮𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦. 𝐈'𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭.

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𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕

1935 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 '𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬' 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩? 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰. 𝐓𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐲.

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𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

1. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 18+

2. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫.

3. 𝐀𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

4. 𝐓𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨.

5. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫), 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝.

[]𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

1. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐏 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥.

2. 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬.

3. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐏 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

4. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬) 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧(𝐬)

5. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬) 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬) 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧(𝐬)

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This is a discord roleplay, pm me for the link!

a/n: sneek peak for six sentence sunday! im done with this fic, and i’ll post it soon, but here’s the reddit post where i found this! (i couldn’t resist lol) i used the post and the first comment under it to make this fic! 

post link

Her eyes widen, and she knows Chat has made the connection.

“Adrien’s Hawkmoth!”

“Marinette is Mayura!”

They pause again, and stare at each other for a lot longer than just a couple minutes.

And then Ladybug breaks the silence.

“Well,” she sighs. “Just my luck. I guess I’m in love with my mortal enemy then,”

very much like the sea,

it has its storms, it

has its tides

and in its depths it

has its pearls too.”