Chapter Text
When the timers appeared, the world was outraged. Everyone was demanding answers, when a member of the Justice League stepped forward and admitted fault.
A young Zatanna admitted that she had messed up the pronunciation of a spell that would find someone’s soulmate. She missed one syllable and instead made a timer that would count down to someone’s death.
When she tried to reverse the spell, she only activated the soulmate aspect of the spell. Suddenly the timer on each person’s wrist had a dual purpose. They either counted to when you met your soulmate or when you died, and you didn’t know which it would be.
The public outrage went to astronomical levels, so she cast one more spell on the timers. She made them completely invisible to everyone but the owner, people could only see their own timer.
Marinette was eight when the timers appeared. She didn’t understand what was happening, all she knew was that she woke up one day with a number on her left wrist. All of the problems with Zatanna happened in a span of three hours, while Marinette had been asleep.
After discovering what the count down on her wrist meant, she couldn’t have been happier. It meant that in 12 years, when the numbers hit zero, she would meet her soulmate. She never considered that it might be her death, whether that was from pure optimism or ignorance was debatable.
However when she became Ladybug six years later, the timer’s became a problem in and of itself.
Chat Noir was certain that they were soulmates, his timer still had 74 years left after all. He pestered her relentlessly about the timer, after all she only told him that her timer was for her soulmate meeting.
One specific night he stubbornly demanded that she tell him why she was convinced that her timer was for her soulmate. He went pale when she yelled that if her timer was her death, she would die in six years. He never brought it up again.
After defeating Hawkmoth three years later, Marinette decided to graduate early. She wasn’t sure she could handle staying in Paris after seeing the streets painted red in the final battle. Which brings Marinette to her current situation in Gotham City.
Marinette woke up to her work alarm blaring rudely, like the mean piece of machinery that it was. She slapped the snooze button half heartedly, curling back into her blanket.
When the snooze alarm went off exactly nine minutes later, she almost threw the alarm across the room. It was her day off for heaven's sake, it had no right to be so loud and...alarming. Wait. Why did she have the day off. It was something important. She knew it was.
She sat stewing in her thoughts for three minutes, slowly waking up as she thought too hard. She sat up to stretch, she knew she wasn’t going to remember if she didn’t look at her calendar.
She sat there, staring at her wall filled with pictures of her with her friends. Ugh, why couldn’t she remember? Standing up and actually looking at the calendar was the last thing she wanted to do. Groaning, she ran her left hand through her hair and froze.
The timer.
It only had two hours left. OH SHOOT.
HOW COULD SHE FORGET THAT SHE ASKED FOR TODAY OFF BECAUSE IT WAS HER SOULMATE DAY??
No longer half asleep, Marinette launched out of bed and dashed to the closet.
Today was the DAY. Not just any day, but the day she had been waiting for most of her life.
The perfect outfit she had laid out the night before was sitting in its pristine glory, the perfect mix of comfort and MILF energy.
She pulled on the high waisted corduroy pants, the dark red color was practically her signature at this point. Her black lace blouse tucked in showed off her slim athletic figure. Paired with her favorite pair of doc martens, black boots with dark red roses embroidered into the (vegan) leather.
She looked hot and she knew it.
The greatest part of her outfit?
She could and had beaten the crap out of someone while wearing it.
She moved to her hair and makeup. She took her hair out of the french braids she had slept in, the waves looked pristine. Her hair must have known how important today was too.
And for the makeup? Literally just mascara. She didn’t understand how Chloe was comfortable walking around with a pound of makeup on. Besides, foundation would cover her freckles, and those were one of her key features.
A frantic buzzing from her phone took her attention away from the mirror.
It was probably Alya spamming her.
She took out her phone, and was greeted with...THIRTY FIVE NEW MESSAGES??
One from Adrien just read, “Hey Mari! Best of luck today!!”
Two were from her boss, “I’m so excited for you! Whoever your soulmate is, they are extremely blessed”
And the rest were from Alya. Instead of reading them, she just decided to call her best friend.
Alya picked up immediately, clearly she had been waiting for the call, “MARI! Today’s the DAY!!!”
Marinette recoiled from the sudden volume, “I KNOW,” Mari’s enthusiasm matched that of Alya’s, “I’m finally going to meet my soulmate. Or die. One of the two”
“Mari! Don’t even joke about that!”
Marinette grinned devilishly, “I know, I know. It’s not THAT funny”
A deep sigh came over the line, “I really wish I could come with you Mari”
Marinette softened, “I know Al, but you couldn’t just skip work”
“Yeah yeah. If I wasn’t just an intern at the Gotham Gazette, I might be able to write it off as a slice of life article about soulmates so I could come with you”
“Al, your job is more important than being there to see me meet my soulmate”
A distinct grumbling filled the line, Mari laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it”
After a few more minutes, the two hung up. And as soon as Alya wasn’t on the phone, Marinette was hit by anxiety like a brick strapped to a truck on the highway.
She was going to be fine. It was just the day she met her soulmate. No problem right?
No, it was a definite problem. What if she reverted back to her middle school days? If she started stuttering in front of her soulmate, she might pass away.
Her brain decided to take a dive into all the hypothetical situations. What if they didn’t like her? What if they were platonic soulmates, not the romantic story she always wanted? What if she actually did die????
Ugh, no this was stupid. Why was she so worried?? She slapped herself to bring her brain back to reality. She was wasting time.
She sprinted outside her apartment building and was greeted with the sounds of Gotham City in the morning: honking, swearing, and the unreasonably angry sounding footsteps of people walking to work. She checked her phone. 9:02 AM. She had thirty minutes until the timer went off. Thirty minutes to kill.
Marinette sighed. There was no reason to just stand there and wait. She walked to the bike rack, unlocking her precious pink cherry blossom bike. She had opted out of buying a car when she first arrived in Gotham, and had instead bought a custom bike for commuting, which was one of her better ideas as the bike had become her pride and joy.
She hopped on, and brushed aside the realization that she had left her bike helmet in her apartment. She would be fine, it wasn’t too crowded today.
Also the bike helmet would ruin her hair.
Wait hold on, what if she died in a bike accident because she wasn’t wearing her helmet??
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, that wouldn’t happen, her timer was for her soulmate. She knew it was. It had to be. She couldn’t even consider the idea that she might die in thirty minutes.
She put her purse in the small basket on the front of her bike, clasped the basket lid, and started her casual ride through the city.
It was times like these where she was truly grateful that she moved to America. Yes, the crime rates were ridiculous, and the people often rude, but it felt more like home then Paris had.
Marinette took a turn down a street she wasn’t entirely familiar with and noticed the car that had been behind her had followed.
It was just a coincidence. But it wouldn’t hurt to test her theory, right?
She took the next right turn. They followed. She felt her heart start to race in panic. It could still be a coincidance. It HAD to be a coincidence.
She turned again. They followed. She muttered under her breath, “oh shit”, her breathing shallowing out. She sped up, and started twisting through alleyways to ditch the car.
A man called out, “Hey don’t be difficult, we just want to talk”
Marinette was fully panicking now, her timer must be running out. Was she actually going to die? As she sped up, she heard footsteps following her through the curves and streets. Dang it, they started following her by foot!
She turned down a slim road, seeing too late that it was actually a steep hill that was blocked completely by an old building with frosted windows covering the sides.
She tried to hit the brakes, but she was going too fast. Her bike stopped, but she kept going. Launching over the handlebars, she braced herself for impact as she flew through the frosted window.
The dark thought hit her as she crashed through the glass, I guess I really am about to die.
A loud obnoxious voice rang through the air, “...Reacts to losing another son to me”
She opened her eyes to prepare to land. Rolling to absorb the shock of the fall, she didn’t quite process her surroundings.
She stood up and started rapidly cursing in French, the glass shards around her had cut up part of her outfit, the only injuries were her sore shoulder that had taken most of the fall impact and cuts on her neck.
The obnoxious voice startled her out of her thoughts, “Oh lookie here Boy wonder, did you ask for a baguette delivery?” a hideous chilling laugh followed the man’s words. A laugh every Gothamite knew.
Marinette whipped her head up and made eye contact with the Joker. His grin impossibly large and impossibly disturbing.
If she had thought the crash would kill her, she was certain now of her inevitable death.
Impulsively she checked her wrist, a few seconds were left. No no no no no no no no she couldn’t go out like this. The police wouldn’t find her body here, she would be lost forever and her face stuck in a permanent grin, and-
A younger masculine voice cut through her thoughts, “HEY WATCH IT!”
She looked up to see the Joker pointing his BANG gun right at her. The laughter cut through her very being. She dropped to the ground, the sound of the bullet hitting the wall behind her would haunt her for years, hawkmoth had nothing on this monster.
Wait, the voice.
Where did it come from?
It came from...him.
She whipped her head to a boy around her age tied to a chair, wait. Was that ROBIN??
His forehead was bleeding, and he was looking past her at the Joker. He turned to look at her, and her timer went off as their eyes met. And right as another gunshot filled the air.