“And what does this one do?” Ladybug grumbled, barely landing inelegantly on a ledge in front of Chat before speaking. She surveyed the area from her new vantage point, high enough to give a fairly good overview of the area with enough distance from the akuma to be out of its focus. There were no explosions destroying the skyline, no smoke rising into the sky, no flocks of irate animals, no pained screams. All in all, it seemed like a tame akuma, and certainly preferable to the terrible date she felt no guilt about having just made up a poor excuse to leave.
“He calls himself SoulMatcher,” Chat Noir responded, barely exposed, assessing eyes tracing the akuma’s movement in the distance, “said he’ll save the people of Paris from suffering through pointless relationships by sending them to their soulmates.”
“Well, that would have been appreciated earlier in the evening,” she huffed as she settled her yoyo back around her waist. She finally fully set her eyes on Chat, hidden behind a wall, cowering in the shadows as though the wall wasn’t several feet taller than him even when standing, and snorted.
He bolted up straight instantly, but after a second, took a step back away from the wall corner. “What? I’m being cautious,” he said defensively, then pointed a finger at her. “I have plans I want to get back to and I’m not going to miss this date. I’ve done that enough.”
Her eyes softened. “She knows…”
“But she shouldn’t have to deal with having her every important moment interrupted,” Chat cut in. “So, let’s see how quickly we can handle this, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, momentarily cowed. She may have had a terrible night and a disastrous dating life, but Chat shouldn’t suffer because of it, and neither should his girlfriend. She focused back on the akuma with reaffirmed focus, noting how he moved, trying to connect how he selected his victims. He moved past some people and then seemed to pursue others. There didn’t appear to be an observable pattern to how he chose them. “How does he send them? Dangerous?”
Chat scoffed and rested his chin on his baton. “No. From what we can tell, they just appear next to their supposed soulmate. All in all, quite tame. Nino said he didn’t even feel anything at all.”
“Nino got hit!” Ladybug exclaimed, whirling on him. “Why didn’t you lead with that? Why didn’t Alya say anything?” She suddenly grimaced and braced herself. “Did he not…”
He held his hands up in a soothing motion. “He appeared next to Alya. Thank God. Can you imagine?” They met each other’s’ gaze with matching looks of horror and synced relieved sighs. “But anyway, I contacted her to ask what she’d gotten on the akuma already and she reported to me. Head’s up, they’re already insufferable about it.” He sighed and peeked around the corner again. “Honestly, this doesn’t even need the two of us. We could probably go back to our dates and take care of him after.”
Ladybug scoffed louder than Chat had earlier, almost echoing down the street. “Dieu, no!” She pretended the snort he let out was drowned out in the latest screech of surprise.
“That bad, huh?” He was clearly trying for sympathetic, but it came across as bemused. If the tone of his voice didn’t make it clear, the twinkle in his eyes would have.
“Terrible!” she groaned. Her eyebrow arched as a person appeared out of nowhere next to someone who had been hiding across the street. The two people stared at each other in shock for just a few seconds before giving each other shy smiles and moving closer to hide together. Perfectly comfortable together. Instantly at ease. She cocked her head to the side as she considered them. “So, do we have any idea if this is real?”
“Real? Like a real akuma?” he asked slowly, his own head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out the source of the question.
“Like soulmates. And that he would be able to tell who they are.”
Chat raised an eyebrow and gave Ladybug as assessing look. He knew just about everything there was to know about Marinette, and the one thing he knew more than anything else, was that she was hopeless romantic. Exactly the kind to believe in soulmates. “Doubting soulmates exist?” he asked skeptically.
She took a beat before responding, long enough to tear her eyes from the couple and landing on a man looking around him in desperation, heartbreak evident in his movements even from her distance. “Yes,” she finally stated with less confidence than she was trying for, more like she was convincing herself than him.
“Since when?” he scoffed.
She narrowed her eyes at him in a warning that he either didn’t detect or didn’t fear, his grin widening the more her eyes narrowed. “Since ‘fate’ kept putting me in situations I didn’t want to be in. Until he kept putting guys like that,” she motioned harshly in the vague direction of the 23rd aggrandizement, “in my path.”
Chat sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Very bad date then,” he said more to himself than her. He turned to her and slapped on a brittle smile, already bracing himself for the answer to his next question. “Think Fate’s a he, huh?”
“Only a man would be this much of a bitch,” she hissed. The snort ripped out of him before he could stop it and loud enough to garner the attention of the people on the street below. He slapped his hand over his mouth and gave her an apologetic shrug, but it was enough to make her smile too, soft, but present. “Putting that aside. Any ideas on the item?”
“His phone,” he nodded. “His ex left a voicemail saying she found her true soulmate and hoped he would find his.”
Ladybug whipped toward him, eyes wide. “Voicemail? Dieu. Men and that woman. That was cruel. I’m impressed he had this much restraint.”
Chat hummed in agreement before crouching back behind the wall so he could study her for a second, his grin curling up at her annoyance. “So, was it the guy or just that you would have preferred it be someone else?”
“Both,” she answered definitively, avoiding looking at him and instead waving back at the civilians who had noticed them due to Chat’s obnoxiously loud snort. “I would have preferred it be just about anyone else.”
“Really?” he asked as innocently as he could manage, which was completely offset by his waggling eyebrows. “Because I was thinking you might have preferred one particular dark-haired, blue-eyed Bat.”
The glare she sent him was almost venomous enough to wipe the smirk off his face. “That describes every Bat except for the women… and all the Supers… except for the women still. Someone should probably investigate that. That seems unnatural,” she clipped flatly. “No, while others,” she spat out the word, “may allude to it, this guy flat out said Ladybug was a poor man’s Wonder Woman.”
Chat grimaced so hard he almost fell on his back. “Ah. Yeah. That’s…”
“Yeah,” she cut in again, absolutely no amusement in her expression.
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, head cocking to the side as he tried to form the words without repercussions falling back on him. “You know, I don’t think that’s quite what Jas…”
“So… distract and destroy?” she cut harshly in as she unwrapped her yoyo.
He pressed his lips together for a moment then nodded. “I do so love a classic. I don’t think he’ll be too hard. He hasn’t been hiding or violent.”
She nodded then threw her yoyo up in the air with a cheery, “Lucky Charm!” and held out her hand gaping at the phone that landed in her palm. “What am I supposed to do with this?” she grumbled.
“Call him?” Chat shrugged. “Ooohhh, maybe he’s your soulmate and that’s a sign!”
She glared at him and tucked the phone into her yoyo. “Just us, then?” she waved to another civilian with a heavy sigh. Civilians really needed to stop trying to interact with them while there were akumas active.
Chat chuckled. “Unless you get hit. You’re awfully exposed there, bugab…”
The scene in front of her changed between one blink and the next. She looked around frantically, trying to reconcile the change of scenery. She had somehow gone from a Parisian rooftop to… she wasn’t even sure. She was on a series of gridiron walkways over some liquid that smelled particularly foul, in some kind of processing plant.
It took almost a full 30 seconds before she noticed the two men in front of her, apparently amid a standoff, guns drawn, though not at each other, which seemed odd. “Uhhhh,” she started eloquently. The men adjusted their guns toward her. “Désolé de vous interrompre… peu importe ce que vous êtes en train de faire ici…”
“Who the hell are you?” the first man demanded.
“Did you see that?” the second man asked lowly like he was trying to keep her from hearing him, but his voice carried throughout the area. “She just appeared and started talking in tongues.”
The first man glanced over toward him, seeming to agree. “Bossman is never going to believe us.”
She looked back and forth between them, her mind still reeling. This? This is where she was sent? To these guys? They were both… okay it was probably cruel to say old and sketchy, but they were both at least twenty years older than her and… sketchy was the kindest way she could think of to describe them. What this was, was clear evidence the akuma was a fraud, because, there was no way… She didn’t deserve this! This could not be her fate.
She took a breath and let it out slowly. “English. Okay.” She nodded absently then scrunched her face in preparation for her next question. “Is one of you not a bad guy by chance?”
The second man straightened up and let out an offended scoff. “I'm not a bad guy, I just... sometimes people get in the way. It’s not my fault if…”
“So not you then,” she cut in with a highly unimpressed look. She glanced over to the first man with a resigned sigh that turned into a screech when a figure dropped directly in front of her, yet another gun drawn. She reacted instantly and threw her yoyo out, knocking the gun out of his hand and into the liquid below. “Oh!” She exclaimed in surprise as the figure’s identity registered.
“Oh,” she breathed out in relief. It wasn’t those guys she was sent to. It was him. It wasn’t the creepy men, she now realized must be goons. It was a vigilante. A good guy… ish. “Oh,” she repeated hesitantly as that thought settled in her brain. It was Red Hood. Red Hood was her soulmate. “Oh…” she let out, her voice distant even to herself. Red Hood was her soulmate. Maybe. Possibly. The akuma could be wrong. Or…
“That was my favorite gun,” Red Hood stated. He leaned over the side of the walkway, putting far more weight onto the railing than Ladybug thought was wise, watching the liquid longingly.
She squeaked again when another figure dropped down behind her. Her arm was already out to throw her yoyo, but Hood grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms before she could let go. “Easy there, tiger. As much as I’d like to see that, he’s not one of the bad guys.”
“Aw, you guys make me feel so welcome,” Nightwing cooed with a wink at Ladybug as he stepped past her. He twirled his Ekema sticks and grinned at the goons, a grin Marinette had come to know and fear.
“You brought your girlfriend to our fight?” the first goon asked incredulously.
That knocked her out of her revery. “Oh, no. No, we’re not…” she squeaked out at the same time Red Hood growled, “No.”
“No, he didn’t bring her, she just showed up to protect him. Which is strange, because usually it’s the other way around,” Nightwing quipped, proving Ladybug’s fear to be valid. Hood glared at him with a heat that could be felt through his mask.
Ladybug stepped away and stared at Nightwing’s back, her head cocking in thought. There was another option. Nightwing was here too. Her soulmate could be Nightwing. Nighwing could be her soulmate! That would be… weird. She scrunched her nose. She loved Nightwing, really, but the idea of kissing him just felt wrong. Not that she thought about kissing Hood! She hadn’t. Because he was frustrating and difficult and thought Wonder Woman was cooler, not that she disagreed, and was far too obsessed with his… “You have a favorite gun?” she asked, his words finally registering.
“Yeah,” he answered with the same incredulity as someone asking if baby aye ayes were creepy.
She stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language, which technically, he was for her. “Is that… an American thing?”
Nighwing leaned between them, his Ekema sticks twirling pointedly. “No, it’s a him thing.”
Ladybug closed her eyes, head bent toward the sky seeking patience and let out a heavy sigh. “Of course it’s a him thing.” Several beats passed before she returned her gaze to the figures in front of her, her lips quirking to the side as she considered them. No, something had to have gone wrong. There was no way…
“Right,” Nightwing chirped at the goons as he clapped his Ekema sticks together, breaking her focus. “You going to make us take the guns or…”
The goons exchanged a glance, communicating something with raised or furrowed brows. Finally they appeared to come to a resolution as, with a nod to each other, they turned back to Nightwing. “Can we watch how this plays out?”
Nightwing snorted but quickly attempted to cover it up by clearing his throat. “No. But if you come peacefully, I’ll give you an update on it.”
The goons sent each other silent signals again then shrugged. “Worth it.”
Hood stepped out of the way to grant Nightwing access to herd the goons out and toward the police. “Menace,” he grumbled as Nightwing passed by him, an insult that seemed to have the opposite effect evidenced by the smirk Nightwing shot him.
She stared after him, mentally calculating the pros and cons of all the people present, which was more likely to be her soulmate, if any of them could be other than Red Hood. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t register that Nightwing and the goons had already descended and were well on their way to the exit. Nor did she notice Hood shifting his weight from foot to foot. She remained lost until he finally spoke up. “It’s the weight.”
She blinked as her mind processed what he’d said. “The weight?” she repeated uncertainly.
“The weight distribution,” he nodded. He leaned his elbow on the steel railing; one leg nonchalantly crossed over the other. He adjusted the weight on his elbow a few times finally seeming to find a comfortable position, that just happened to be devastatingly debonair. “It was really a miraculously balanced gun.”
“Oh, your gun!” she gasped, clarity finally settling in, in an unsettling way. The akuma clearly did NOT have the abilities he claimed because she was NOT soulmates with someone who valued guns above all else. “Sorry about that. But I think it will likely appear back in your holster after we vanquish the akuma.”
“So, it’s an Akuma that brings you here, then,” he nodded. He shuffled his feet slightly to adjust his position again and distractedly wiped his hand on his pants as he gazed around in a manner she would describe as anxiously if she didn’t know the goons had already been dealt with. “Is it an akuma in Gotham or akuma sent you to Gotham?”
“Sent. He’s sending people… away” she trailed off awkwardly.
Hood made a production of looking around them, leaning harder against the questionably reinforced railing in his effort to look behind her. “So… were you the only one that’s gotten hit or…”
She scoffed and leaned against the opposite railing for only a moment then straightened instead, eying the railing skeptically. “Thank you for that amazing vote of confidence. No, I wasn’t the only one.”
“Yet I see nobody else.” She narrowed her eyes at the smirk she could hear through the mask. “What, is it sending people to their favorite place? I’m touched, Pixie, truly.” He clutched at his heart and swooned away from the railing just as it collapsed into the liquid below. They both stared at where the railing had entered the water, unable to move in their shock. “And for that,” he motioned toward the water, “for keeping me from falling in. How very lucky.”
She rolled her eyes and unsuccessfully attempted to keep her lips from quirking up. “One of us is anyway,” she scoffed.
He chuckled and motioned down the walkway for her to move ahead. She followed his lead, moving toward the stairs, confident Hood would follow and without seeing Hood’s head tilt as he absorbed the sight of her walking in front of him. “No, really, how is it deciding where to send people? Should we expect more transfers?”
“He’s sending them…” her mouth hung open as if the words were stuck trying to come out, step faltering as the realization suddenly hit her that he might find out how she got there and the longer she stayed, the greater the chance he would find out… and react.
“I need to get back,” she mumbled more to herself than him, but she couldn’t ask Chat to have Pegasus bring her home without… She almost smacked herself in the head for not realizing it sooner. She grabbed the phone out of her yoyo and called Chat in one smooth move. “Chat… oh. Perfect. Yeah, I’ll send you my coordinates, this has to have something that gives them, and give it to Pegasus.” She eyed the massive vat beneath her. “Just don’t open it too low. I don’t know what that liquid below me is and I don’t want you to find out.” She nodded quickly. “Yep, see you soon.”
She finally turned to acknowledge Hood just in time to catch him shifting on his feet. “It’ll just take him a few seconds, and I’ll be out of your hair… or helmet, I guess.” She smiled weakly, almost as weakly as the chuckle he gave, and continued walking forward.
“Right. Listen, Pixie,” he let out a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, head bowed toward the ground, taking his turn to avoid her eyes in an uncharacteristic show of doubt. “I really wanted to… I didn’t mean to…” The next words were lost in his throat as a portal opened up directly in front of her, allowing her to walk directly into it before she even realized it was there, then closed immediately behind her.
Ladybug blinked quickly at the sudden change in environment again. Before she could fully register where she was, a figure popped up in front of her causing her to squeak, jerk back, and ready her yoyo all at the same time.
“So?” Chat prompted.
She let out the bracing breath she’d taken and batted at his chest. “People have got to stop doing that to me,” she huffed. It took a few seconds for her to calm her heart and clear her mind to catch up to where she was. “So?”
“So, who’s your soulmate?” he prompted, but it came out like a tortured groan, but he was so excited about the possible answer, he was almost bouncing.
Pegasus raised an eyebrow and turned to give Ladybug his full attention. “Oh, right. Forgot that’s where you would be. Any information to share?”
She looked out over the city searching for the akuma, caring less about whether the direction was correct than that it was away from Chat and Pegasus. “Um… no way to know. There were a few people there,” she answered non-committally.
Pegasus raised a skeptical eyebrow at the same time Chat’s face fell as the excitement drained from his eyes letting out a mournful, “Oh.” His lip jutted out in a pout. “Feel drawn to any one of them in particular?” he tried, face scrunched like hope was trying to squeeze out, but he was holding it back.
She made a noise that could be interpreted as a negative, or a hum, or an affirmative, depending on one’s mood. “No, no, I wouldn’t…” she paused for a moment like she had to think if she wanted to commit to her next words, “say I was.” She tilted her head as she weighed the words, her eyes unfocused for a few seconds before snapping into focus on Chat. “You two?”
“Never got hit,” Chat groaned.
“Really?” she blurted, an incredulous look slipping out that she immediately corrected. “I mean…”
“I know right!” he groaned over her, unaffected by the tone of her question. “The one time I’d want to…” he sighed heavily and swayed against the wall. “Maybe we can wait?” he offered, hope flooding back into his eyes, which Ladybug only felt a bit bad about squashing with a flat stare. “Right, no, that would be… that would be inappropriate,” he nodded, looking away in an attempt at contrition.
“I only just got here,” Pegasus shrugged. “And I was in the university library until he called.”
Chat grunted then looked back up at her through his fringe. “Is it really so bad though? Finding your soulmate?”
Pegasus scrunched his nose. “Is that definitely what he’s doing though? We have no way to empirically prove that’s what he’s doing. There is no way to detect the soul, let alone mated souls, therefore there is no way to measure it. Do we know if soulmates exist and if so, could an akuma can actually place you next to your soulmate and not just…”
“Someone you want,” Chat asked, his mouth turned down in a pout.
“Yes!” Ladybug exclaimed, gesturing to Pegasus, but instantly pulled her hand back almost as if trying to stop her original word before it reached anyone. “No…” she corrected quickly, diverting her eyes and pursing her lips, a sound of discontent squeezing through. “Or! Or he puts you next to someone you just know. Not… not have feelings for,” she insisted, her voice sounding slightly frantic. She frowned and backed away in thought. She needed space. The empty rooftop was suddenly too confining. She didn’t have feelings for… there was no way to say who she was intended to see. It could very well have been one of the goons. Maybe they were really nice guys under the whole… henchman… thing. She winced inwardly so strongly, it manifested in her face as well. Still, it could be.
“It could be,” she repeated this time out loud, like the words needed to get out. If they were spoken, they may become real, but there were too many words. Too many thoughts whirling around and colliding, breaking apart. “The akuma could just be choosing random… finding people from… scraping people’s brains. Yes. Scraping them and choosing completely random figures. Figures that there are no deep feelings for whatsoever…”
“Oh my God,” Chat whispered suddenly, eyes wide, straightening up as a grin spread on his lips.
“No!” Ladybug warned.
Pegasus looked back and forth between them. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
Chat bolted up straight, bouncing from foot to foot in excitement that could not be contained. “Oh my God! The akuma sent you to…”
“NO!” she warned again, a finger levelled at him. She took a step back to unleash the full extent of the warning finger, like the distance could stop his words and stop his realization from settling in. “There were multiple people ther…”
She was falling before she even realized she’d been hit again. There wasn’t even the chance to brace herself for impact before she collided. But instead of the hard floor, she was caught in a strong embrace.
She looked before she could stop herself. Even as she was registering who had caught her, her mind was screaming at her not to look, to give herself time to prepare before she looked, because once she looked, she would know. And she wouldn’t be able to unknow. There were no ladybugs to repair knowledge acquired.
“Oh, come on,” she huffed, with a glare toward the heavens to accentuate her point. “He’s like twice my size and… an asshole.”
“Welcome back,” Red Hood crooned. “That didn’t take long.”
She huffed and pushed against his chest, which just served to entertain him seemingly, as his whole chest shook with laughter, thereby shaking her, though he kept her safely tucked in his arms. She turned her intensified glare at him and pushed harder, finally making her point. “Easy there, Pixie Pop, we may not be over the toxin anymore but it’s still a big drop.”
He dropped his arm under her legs, but kept his arm tight around her back, keeping her flush against him as he slowly lowered her to the ground. “So, the akuma is big and a jerk?”
She stared up at him in surprise at how comfortingly he’d held her, how gently he’d let her down, how his voice dipped when he spoke to her, how warm his arm, still wrapped around her, felt. “What,” she hummed. “Oh!” she jumped away, ignoring the twinge of loss at his arm dropping away. “Uh… yeah. Yeah, that’s what I meant.” She looked away suddenly unable to meet his eyes… even hidden as they were beneath his mask.
“Do you need help?” He stepped closer, reaching out for her. “We can pop over and…”
“No!” Her eyes snapped to him then tracked his hand as it stilled then pulled back. “Um, no,” she corrected with a more reasonable volume and met his eyes again. “Thank you. It’s not a violent akuma. Or even difficult… I don’t think. I’ve just gotten distracted.”
He looked at her for a few seconds, giving her the distinct impression he was studying her, for what purpose, she was uncertain. “The akuma’s outfit that distracting?” He crossed his arms over his chest and quirked his head to the side. “It must be pretty bad, I’ve seen some of those outfits in the past and they didn’t distract you.”
“Oh, uh, no. Just Chat being annoying,” she flapped her hands like waving away his concern, her voice a bit too forced to achieve the nonchalance she was going for.
He nodded slowly, but slowly started walking, circling her unhurriedly. “So, business as usual then.” He stopped suddenly behind her and leaned toward her, close enough she could feel vibrations as he spoke. “Except for you getting sent here. Twice now. But not the exact same place, just very close. Right in front of me both times.”
She straightened up and turned her head to track him so she could properly glare at him. This was the Hood she recognized. Critical. Analytical. Hostile. He continued his path around her only stopping again when he was fully in front of her, so close he towered over her. “How does he decide where to send people? I don’t think you said last time.”
Her glare intensified as much because of his tone as the fact that she didn’t have a good answer to the question. “It’s not really… it’s pretty ambig… um…” her mouth working through sounds as her brain tried to figure out which one to continue with, and instantly discarding the selection, immediately recognizing it wouldn’t fool him, considering his preternatural ability to tell when she was lying or hiding anything. Luckily for her, she never had to decide which one to choose.
With a squeal, she fell through the floor, this time landing hard on the concrete next to Pegasus. She looked up, just in time to see Red Hood’s shoulders relax at seeing Pegasus before the portal closed. “Unnecessary,” she grumbled, but she still took Chat’s hand to help her up.
“But funny,” Pegasus grinned.
“So, did that clear things up?” Chat asked.
“Clear things up?” her voice came out a few octaves higher than usual, her eyes scanned the area thoroughly, staunchly looking anywhere but their eyes, though she did catch the knowing smirk they sent to each other.
“That second trip,” Chat clarified, an edge of snark in his voice. “Were there fewer people there this time?”
She finally looked at them to fix them with the sternest glare she could manage. “Can we focus on the akuma, please?”
“Oh, we got that taken care of,” Chat waved his hand, but kept his smirk fixed on her.
A shocked expression replaced her stern one, her hands dropping from her hips. “What?”
“The distraction worked. Pegasus stepped in. Got the phone,” he held up the phone for her to see then broke it, the akuma fluttering away. “Just need a few ladybugs and we’re good to go,” he shrugged.
She rolled her eyes at him as she threw out her yoyo to catching it and releasing it within a few seconds. “Bye bye little butterfly,” she intoned with a quick wave, quickly returning her gaze to Chat whose smirk had dropped and his entire demeanor shifted to something more serious and decidedly less triumphant than his news warranted, at least so far. “But…” she prompted.
Chat sucked in a breath before continuing. “But, Zoe’s girlfriend was hit and didn’t appear next to her so... things are really tense now.”
“Non-magical tense,” Pegasus added in quickly.
“Yeah, so we're going to need a lot of backup and then ice cream.” Chat nodded.
“Then, maybe we can narrow down your ‘soulmate’ options,” Pegasus smirked.
Chat’s lips quirked up to match Pegasus’. “Or get you to acknowledge what you already know.”
She scoffed and detransformed. “I’ve had my fill of ‘destiny’ and ‘fate’, thank you very much.”
“I quite agree, but that is an odd take for the embodiment of Luck,” Pegasus hummed.
“She’s the embodiment of Luck,” Marinette jutted her thumb towards Tikki before handing her a cookie. “I just borrow it sometimes.”
Tikki took a large bite from the cookie and floated over by Pegasus. “And you were borrowing it when you met your soulmate so…”
Marinette glared at her, decidedly ignoring Chat’s massive grin and Pegasus’ snort. “So, the soulmate thing is real?” Pegasus asked her.
Tikki swallowed the rest of her cookie and opened her mouth, but Marinette cut in before she could start. “Can we focus on Zoe for now, please?” she hissed.
“For now…” Chat hummed, mischief still twinkling in his eyes. “But if he’s your soulmate, you’re going to see him again, and wouldn’t you prefer to be prepared?” He raised his finger to boop her nose, but, reconsidering his own safety, redirected quickly to her collarbone instead.
“Do I get to know who he is?” Pegasus asked apparently nobody, as neither Chat, Tikki, nor Ladybug acknowledged his question.
“You think I’ll have less anxiety if I think more about it?” She raised a pointed eyebrow. “And are you going to really continue to tout the soulmate angle while comforting Zoe about her girlfriend showing up in front of a complete stranger?”
Chat slowly lowered his finger and closed his mouth until his lips puckered. “Good point,” he acknowledged grudgingly.
“New plan,” Pegasus chimed in. “Chat, you get the ice cream and toppings then get some terrible movies queued up. I’ll contact everyone to come support Zoe. Ladybug, you make Zoe’s favorite cookies. You can get those done in like 45 minutes, right?” He looked between them and continued without letting her respond. “We meet at Zoe’s in an hour.”
><><><><><><><><><
“Forty-five minutes,” Marinette scoffed as she rushed to get to Zoe’s door. She was massively late, though that was hardly surprising. She didn’t exactly live close to Zoe and she couldn’t just make one batch of the cookies. This was an emergency. This was a binge worthy catastrophe. Events of this magnitude needed at least three batches and alternatives. It’s always best to have a variety of drowning-your-misery options; cookies, brownies, and chocolate tartlets.
She stared at the door to Zoe’s apartment then looked back to the multiple containers piled up in her arms, almost towering taller than her, certainly wider, in some kind of miraculous wonder of physics. She looked back and forth a few times, despair increasing just a bit with each glance, until finally she whisper hissed toward her purse. “Tikki! Tikki, can you help me?”
Tikki peeked out of Marinette’s purse and glanced around quickly before nodding at Marinette and flying to the handle, making sure it was open enough for Marinette then flying into join the party. Marinette chortled at Tikki’s excitement until she realized she’d have to figure out a way to close the door on her own. She nudged it closed with her foot, hopping on one foot when the door didn’t close easily. She kicked it, but with her restricted view, misjudged the distance and slipped, cursing internally externally as well. Her luck was not that bad. It couldn’t be.
“Careful, Marinette, those look too good to drop.”
“Dick,” she breathed out in relief, a brilliant smile curling her lips. Her luck wasn’t that bad. For once today. Until she realized it was a Gotham hero. A Gotham hero was here. “Dick,” she rasped out. “What… um… what are you doing here?”
He grabbed a few of the containers and started walking toward the kitchen. “Max called Stephanie to come support Zoe. Came along with her,” he shrugged and settled the containers on the counter for her then turned to her with a look she wished she couldn’t decipher. “Twice in one day. What are the odds?”
“Yeah,” she chuckled weakly. “What are the odds?”
“Funny thing,” he hummed as he grabbed a knife to cut the brownies. “He mentioned people were getting transported to their soulmates.” He looked up to meet her eyes, his grin sharper than the knife in his hand and far more terrifying than anything the akuma had done. “I’ll take this into the group,” he finished innocently.
Her chest started to loosen. It hadn’t been as bad as she thought it would be. It could have been far worse. “Oh, and when I said ‘came along’, I meant ‘we’, as in me, Tim, Cass… and Jason,” he tossed the statement over his shoulder like a grenade, then continued walking away from the destruction like some B-movie hero.
Marinette’s eyes widened and her chest tightened back up again, her breath coming in shallow pants, pulse pounding loud enough in her ears, she almost missed the sound of footsteps behind her.
“Jason,” the word barely passed as a sound, more forcing itself out than her speaking it. She knew it was him without having to turn around. It could be his scent that she could always identify, some combination of sandalwood and gunpowder that was uniquely him, or the pattern of his footsteps, determined, confident, and distinctly his, but in reality, she could just feel it. She could feel him near her and getting closer. She could feel him stop a step behind her. She could feel him staring at her. She could feel him preparing to speak.
It still took a moment before the words came out. “I was sent in to get bowls for the ice cream and something about plates of cookies,” he pronounced.
“Ah, right,” she chuckled high and tight. She took a beat to steel herself before turning to face him, a container of cookies held in front of her like a shield.
Jason glanced at the cookies, examining them for a second with a slight look of disdain, then looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. The offending container was perfunctorily taken from her and set on the counter next to her. He took a breath like he was preparing himself, then a half a step forward, forcing her to back against the counter, and set his hands on either side of her, bracketing her in, forcing her to face him and listen. “So, soulmates.” He stated it like an issue to be tackled, like he would say ‘So, Black Mask is hoarding an arms shipment in one of his warehouses.’
Marinette averted her eyes, suddenly noting her nails were chipped at the tips. She really needed to touch them up. Maybe she could do that, then die from the fumes so she wouldn’t have to face this embarrassment. “Supposedly,” she shrugged as casually as she could manage. “I mean, we don’t really know…”
“I don’t believe in soulmates,” he stated quietly but resolutely, not requiring volume to be devastating, like a stiletto knife to the heart.
She sucked in a breath and looked down. Her cheeks flushed deep red. She knew this would be his reaction. Even if he had believed in soulmates, she knew he wouldn’t have wanted to be hers. “Right. No, of course. I didn’t think…”
She froze midsentence again when he leaned closer, his face ghosting along her neck up to her temple, breathing her in. His breath whispered along her ear as he lingered against her temple. “But I quite like the idea of you being mine.”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “You what?” she gasped.
He pulled back just far enough to meet her eyes, the bravado in his expression faltering upon seeing the incredulous expression on her face. He took a step back and fisted his hands at his sides. “Unless you don’t…” he let the sentence linger, his voice weak for the first time.
He studied her face and posture, eyes darting as he took in all the details, all her tells, both the obvious and the obscure, from her gaping mouth to the slight softening of her eyes, the lifted posture that leaned slightly toward him. He stepped forward again. “I have a theory,” he proffered.
“A theor…” She cut herself off with a sudden muted screech as he lifted her up onto the counter, replacing his hands on either side of her and pushing between her knees. His hands slid back behind her, pulling him closer until he was towering over her, his eyes never leaving her lips. “Do you mind if I test it?” His voice was back to the rough almost growl that moved through her like a wave. She nodded mutely, suddenly unable to speak.
His eyes cut up to hers and back to her lips before gently meeting them, soft and tentative, taking some time to memorize the shape of them before deepening the kiss, becoming more insistent. She melted into the kiss something in her mind or maybe her soul snapping into place. His arms tightened around her until he’d pulled her against him, one hand winding into her hair, the other wrapping around her waist.
Too soon, he pulled away just enough to take a breath, though it came in pants, his nose brushing hers with each breath. “I think the akuma was onto something,” he murmured, his voice a breath of fresh air.
“Don’t let Zoe hear you say that.”
Marinette eeped and jerked back, causing her head to slam into the cabinets behind her. Jason pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He shot a dark glare at Adrien for a second then focused on checking her head. He eased her head to rest against his chest as he gently prodded the area she’d hit.
“Sorry,” Adrien chuckled, far too smug to be fazed by Jason’s glare in any way. “Was just checking on the bowls and cookies. I’ll just grab them and head back in. You two take your time but maybe don’t act all soulmatey in front of Zoe.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Marinette glowered then whimpered when Jason touched a particularly sensitive spot, immediately followed by a breathy hum when he gently ran his hand through her hair and down her back on his way to settling it back on the counter next to her.
“Normally,” Adrien agreed, “but you’ve been a bit,” he glanced toward Jason pointedly, meeting Jason’s eyes long enough to waggle his eyebrows at him, “distracted lately.”
Jason raised an eyebrow and turned to Marinette pointing to himself with a smug smile. “I was the distraction?”
“Don’t get cocky,” she narrowed her eyes at Jason, then turned her eyes to glare at Adrien. “You can leave now,” she hissed.
He saluted with his free hand accidentally knocking himself in the head with the plate of cookies. He pouted at the plate like it had betrayed him and left, but not before mouthing ‘I knew it’, only laughing when Marinette hardened her glare.
“It’s hard not to get a bit cocky,” Jason murmured, his voice coming out low and gravelly.
She rolled her eyes and turned her face away. “For you, I’m sure it is.”
His grin widened. “I’m apparently a distraction for the coolest, hottest, bravest person I know.” He moved his hand again, running his hand along her back, gliding up her neck, slowly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then tracing her jaw to gently urge it back to him. “I have magical powers saying I’m her soulmate.” He ghosted his nose along the bridge of her nose down to the tip. “I can’t imagine anything that would make me cockier than that.”
Breathing was suddenly a challenge for Marinette, too thin and light to fill her lungs. It was so easy to fall into his words, into the feeling being near him gave her, the warm, fluttery feeling that overcame her without her consent. But a lingering question refused to let her submerge in the sensation. “Wonder Woman saying it?” she hedged.
Jason dropped his head against hers and after a beat, let out a deep sigh and pulled back to meet her eyes with earnest, uncertain eyes. “Not even her. I won’t lie, I’d fangirl hard, but, no.” His eyes traced her face again, reviewing every curve, every muscle movement, every freckle, before meeting her gaze again. His thumb gently stroked her jaw. “I meant what I said. Nothing and nobody. Wonder Woman is cool but you are incandescent.”
The little air she’d managed to breathe in escaped in a rush. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When she opened her eyes again, they shone with possibility. “Incandescent, huh?”
Jason broke into a brilliant smile. “And fated,” he nodded.
“I think it may be,” she agreed, her smile matching his as she pulled him into another kiss.
Just thinking about it made Jason smile. He hadn’t seen it in person yet, but expectations were high. The description sounded glorious. The salesperson could barely keep a professional voice and Jason couldn’t wait for Tim to see it and more importantly, Tim’s co-workers and business partners, the people with whom he was going to have to spend the next week of sixteen-hour days in close negotiations.
The only unexpected twist was Jason having to grab the car and pick Tim up. Jason was supposed to hear about the fallout from a screaming voicemail, not witness it in person or, and this part in particular made him shiver, drive it himself, making it seem like Jason’s car, not Tim’s. Tim was supposed to be seen in the most obnoxiously, dudebro car the rental agency had to offer, not him.
Even so, Jason was buzzing with excitement to see the car Tim would be driving for the week, a buzz that instantly flattened as a familiar sound echoed throughout the car park.
Jason would recognize the sound anywhere. Growing up in Gotham, and especially Crime Alley, that sound was ingrained in his memory. He just didn’t expect to hear it on a rather quiet Parisian night in a very secure Wayne Enterprises souterrain car park.
It was perhaps the quiet of the night that made the noise stand out so distinctly, or the fortified walls enclosing the sunken car park, keeping the sound from escaping, forcing it to fill the air, reverberating throughout the entire car park. The sound of pointed destruction and the distinct sound of windshield glass cracking got him picking up his pace, rushing toward the sound that would likely be the cause for a delay in his and Tim’s schedule.
Whatever he had been expecting, this wasn’t it.
Instead of the thugs he had braced himself to confront, it was two baseball wielding women… dressed like they were going to a fancy dinner party rather than a demolition derby, and neither of whom appeared to be trying to hide their identities or actually get into the car they were standing on. It was definitely one of the strangest break-ins he’d seen. Not the strangest, he was from Gotham, but definitely unusual.
The taller woman, with orange hair and a tight purple dress that should have restricted her movements, but didn’t appear to hold her back, had a righteous expression on her face as she brought down her bat on the car’s roof. The other woman, smaller than Damian by quite a bit but looking much better in her suit than Damian ever had, with her vibrantly pink hair and a maniacal glint in her eye, had a slightly less damaging swing, though to give credit where credit was due, the fact that she was somehow standing on a car in roller blades while swinging the bat around, was incredibly impressive.
A voice could just barely be heard over the sounds of destruction. “Point made. Could you please stop now?” He had to crane his neck to see a third woman off to the side, face scrunched in resignation, arms out in front of her like she could somehow freeze the other women if she put enough thought into it. She was dressed similarly to the other two women, a sleeveless, deep grey silken dress flowed over her like molten lead. A matching ribbon held her hair back loosely from her face, occasionally catching from the air getting pushed through the area, causing it to float up and catch the light every so often, like the glint of metal. Dressed far too elegantly for wreaking havoc and yet…
Well now Jason was invested. He had to know more. The mission could wait, the story behind this had the potential to be epic. It was the Justice League’s fault for throwing it at them so last minute.
He quietly sidled up to the third woman until he was a few steps away. “Good form,” he noted dryly after a particularly effective hit by the first woman.
The third woman jumped with a yelp that echoed throughout the car park, her head snapping toward him so quickly he was surprised he couldn’t hear that as well. He almost laughed at the comically over the top response, and he would have if it wasn’t for his eyes getting caught on hers, wide, shocked, and brilliantly, endlessly blue.
The spell finally broke when she looked back and forth between him and the car, granting him control over his focus once again. He still had to shake his head to clear it, to clear her out of it and allow him back in. “Oh, we have permission to um…” she motioned toward the car and giving herself a second to figure out how to finish the sentence, which she evidently was unable to figure out how to accomplish, “do… this,” she finished with a grimace.
He just barely managed to hold in his snort at the incredible understatement as he surveyed the scene again. ‘Annihilation’ would have been an understatement. What he was witnessing would make a demolition derby proud. The headlights were both smashed, the roof had more than a few dents, and though the windshield was still in one piece, cracks spiderwebbed throughout the entire piece and was completely caved in. “This?” he prompted raising an eyebrow.
She whimpered quietly and sucked her lips in, biting them at the sound of the hood collapsing under the woman with pink hair, her stomping rollerblades finally achieving their goal. After a few seconds, she plastered a wide, plastic smile, eyes still stringently focused on the car, or more accurately, away from him. “Yeah, uh huh, yep. This,” she reiterated.
He looked back at the car and nodded along as though her story made perfect sense. “Harley Quinning a car?” he asked lightly, like he was just clarifying a point, and maybe make her smile real and get her to capture him with her eyes again.
“Yep,” she agreed instantly, her false certainty coming back, though weakly. Her eyes shot over to him, her head cocking to the side and her eyes full of curiosity. “Harlequining? What does this mean? What is harlequining?”
He straightened up instantly under her gaze, goal achieved, at least in part. “Well, it means to pulverize something… with permission, of course,” he added with a smirk, “usually with a bat.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows scrunched in uncertainty as she studied him for sincerity, her eyes darted to the car and back to him like she wanted to see if the words properly defined what she was seeing. Her expression only became more skeptical at the broad, easy smile he shot her.
“You do have permission from the owner to do this, right? That’s what you said,” he asked, eyes wide in innocence though his tone was teasing and playful. “Like for a living art exhibition. I’ve heard Paris is full of those.”
Her face somehow becoming even more strained, like she knew her next words were beyond unbelievable but had to try anyway, “Uhhhh yes?” Her eyes snapped to the car as the sound of the side mirror falling to the ground echoed throughout the car park. “Oh Dieu,” she uttered, the words slipping out unbidden, all of her gusto deflating like a sigh. “Can we stop now?” she called out loudly.
“No!” the pink haired woman called back, accentuating her statement by bringing her rollerblade down on the roof of the car.
“We told you before, he deserves this,” the orange haired woman agreed.
He didn’t even try to hold back the snort this time. “Want to try that again? This time with something a bit more believable.” He turned to face her, eyebrow raised and amused smile playing on his lips.
She sighed deeply and tore her eyes away from the destruction to face him, her expression chastised but not guilt ridden. “He cheated on me.”
Jason blinked and looked between the car and her a few times, first trying to reconcile how the damage the other women were inflicting was related to her being cheated on, and second that someone would cheat on a woman with eyes like hers. No, something about that didn’t sound right either. “Come again?”
“The owner,” she clarified, motioning toward the car, like that would clear up the owner’s identity. “He we were together for a long time. We were talking about marriage. But I found out a few weeks ago that he was cheating on me. My friends just found out. They said they wanted to give him some ‘karma’. I didn’t realize what they meant until I realized they were missing from our friend’s engagement party.”
He snickered and shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s how karma works.” He sucked in a breath at the latest hit landed by the orange haired woman but smiled appreciatively at her commitment. He nodded toward the car. “Shouldn’t you be there with them then?”
“Oh, I probably would have been when I found out,” she nodded. She leaned in closer to him like she was passing on a secret that, judging by her smug smile, she was proud of. “I destroyed his social life instead of his car. Put out screenshots of his texts with her and tagged his friends, conservative parents, aunt who hates cheating and was going to give him her apartment in the Champs-Élysées district, and the other woman’s exceptionally wealthy fiancé. Considered sending it to his work as well, but they don’t have morality restrictions and Wayne Enterprises… well, considering Bruce Wayne’s reputation, I doubt they’d care either.”
Jason winced. Both because she was right and because of the utter social destruction. It was actually just as impressive as the physical destruction he was witnessing in front of him. “I bet that was entertaining,” he smiled.
“Oh, it was,” she grinned brilliantly, her blue eyes shimmering in her excitement. Jason almost got lost in them again. “I was at dinner with his parents and aunt when I sent it to them. He got his full six names called and the apartment offer pulled. It was glorious. I left right after that, but I assume it only got better.”
He barked out a laugh and looked down, nodding, still chuckling. “Deserved,” he agreed. He looked up at her through his lashes. “Six?”
She hummed and returned her attention to her friends, now standing on the ground kicking the car. The pink haired woman crowed loudly when her skate broke the rear light. “Seems like the more pretentious a parent is, the more names they give their kid. One of my best friends has five.”
He could hear the eye roll in her voice. It made him smile more than he wanted to admit. But he wiped it off when she whipped toward him, face serious and lips pressed together in a firm line. “He’s not a jerk,” she announced insistently. She continued to stare at him until she was sure he understood, as though it were a very important point to understand. “My friend, I mean, but his parents were.” Seemingly satisfied that he did upon his solemn nod, she relaxed and allowed an easy smile on her lips.
He allowed himself a few moments to study her. His eyes grazed over her face taking in the details he hadn’t been able to see earlier, the slight crinkling around her eyes from her smile, the light blush on her cheeks, the curve of her lips. “Well, I only have two.” He extended his hand to her. “I’m Jason. Jason Todd.”
She grinned, shaking his hand, eyes shining. “Marinette.”
He squeezed her hand before releasing it and had to resist the temptation to pull her a bit closer as he did. “It’s very nice to meet you, Marinette.”
“And you,” she chirped, but the smile dropped almost instantly at the sound of yet another crack, the source uncertain. A deep sigh fell from her lips. “But my friends are a bit more physical… well, Alya goes for the total package reputation and physical, but after drinking quite a bit tonight…” she motioned limply toward them, her entire body slumping at the sight. She narrowed her eyes at her friends circling the car like sharks. “You know, I have no idea where they picked up the bats between here and the venue.”
Jason’s eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “You broke into a secure Wayne Enterprises property drunk?”
She hummed, looking almost proud as she observed her friends. “They do their best work drunk.”
He cocked his head to the side observing her. “And you?”
“I do fine drunk, but I do better sober,” she shrugged.
His light snicker turned into a full guffaw when the woman with pink hair knocked the hood ornament off the car. “Karma, baby!” she screamed.
He discretely pulled out his phone and checked the time. The after-meeting pleasantries would be over by now, the executives more than ready to indulge in the Parisian nightlife before going home to their significant others and pretend like they hadn’t. Which meant their staff would be coming down for their cars any second now. And that was a few too many witnesses for him to control. “Do you think karma will help with the video cameras?” he asked, ostensibly for Marinette, but loud enough for his voice to carry.
Marinette went pale, her eyes returning to the wide, fearful look from before. No, he definitely liked them better lit up with laughter. “Video cameras?” she eked out.
“Video cameras?” the pink haired one repeated, finally looking away from the car to frantically search the ceiling for the cameras.
“Video Cameras!” the orange one exclaimed. She looked over at Marinette, finally noticing the figure next to her. She grabbed the pink haired woman, yanking her toward the exit. She was so far away by the time she’d pulled out her phone, he could only just make out one word, “Max…”
“They run fast for drunks,” he observed, again pretty impressed with their abilities.
She hummed as she watched them move through the door to the stairwell. “Like I said, best work. The skates help. And they left me,” she huffed. She shook her head and shot him a wry smile. “I should probably go too.”
Jason nodded. She definitely should before anyone else saw her around the car, but he wasn’t ready to end their interactions just yet. “You know, there’s one thing about your story that doesn’t seem to make sense,” he stated before she could take more than a few steps.
She let out a quiet snort. “Just the one?”
She turned back toward him as she spoke but kept her momentum toward the exit forcing him to slowly saunter after her, his hands casually settled in his pockets. “My brother doesn’t cheat. And even if he did, you’re not his type… you’re a bit too…” he motioned from her head to her feet, “female presenting for him.”
Her feet faltered as she blinked repeatedly. “What?”
Jason jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the hunk of metal that an hour ago would have classified as a car. “That’s my brother’s car. Or was. Not sure what it qualifies as now.”
“No,” Marinette shook her head slowly, whether it was to assure him or an attempt to deny reality, he wasn’t sure. “Héryk doesn’t have a brother.”
“Héryk isn’t my brother,” he clarified then nodded toward the metal. “That’s not his car. That’s my brother Tim’s car. You can see the rental tag on it.” He quirked his head to the side and squinted at the car. “Kind of.” He met her eyes with a bemused look. “Because my brother is visiting. As am I.”
She finally came to a full stop, her face now ash white. Her eyes darted to the car and back to him a few times. “But…” She motioned toward the car. “Nobody else has a car like that.”
“Yeah…” he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Not a popular car. I rented it for Tim and asked for the duchiest car they had. This is what they had. Thought it was funny at the time.”
“Oh Dieu,” she whispered, the words coming out in a stuttering rasp.
“Don’t worry,” he waved her off, “he’s rich.”
“OH DIEU!” she yelled, the words echoing throughout the car park. She suddenly started fanning herself, her breath coming in jagged, strained pants. “What do you mean ‘don’t worry’. That’s worse. Rich people never just let something go! Oh, Dieu. Oh… He’s going to find me and then he’s going to sue me for everything I have… and everything I don’t have. Then when he realizes I don’t have any money, he’s going to demand my first child and the government will give it to him because rich people always get what they want…”
Jason rushed over to her, rubbing her back, his own heart suddenly racing at her response. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he shushed her. He tried to duck down to meet her eyes, but without getting down on his knees, he was still too tall, not that he wasn’t willing to do it if she needed it. “He doesn’t even like kids,” he tried with a strained smile she couldn’t see. When his attempt at humor fell flat, he tried comfort again. “He won’t do anything. It’s okay. He can cover it. Won’t even think twice about that kind of money. He’ll love the story though.”
He froze when she finally looked up, her breathing calming, because of him. He did that. He smiled reassuringly at her but got knocked sideways suddenly. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Why are you still here?” the orange haired woman exclaimed, pushing off of Jason to gain momentum as she dragged Marinette behind her. Marinette was barely able to wave to him before she was tugged through the exit door.
Jason stood there, hand still half raised where it had been rubbing Marinette’s back seconds ago, staring at the door until a sound forced him out of his stupor. It took him a few seconds to realize it was his phone ringing and a few more to actually answer it. Before he could say a dazed ‘hi’ a voice boomed through the speaker. “Jason, where are you? It could not possibly have taken you this long to get the car. I have had to make small talk with these people for the past twenty minutes! Twenty minutes I will never get back but would gladly disintegrate from my memory.”
“Yeah, got a bit distracted,” Jason acknowledged distractedly.
There was a pause on the phone. “Uh, you good there? Cuz that was… not hostile.”
Jason finally tore his eyes away from the door, but his gaze got caught immediately on a surveillance camera. He scanned the ceiling and posts. Wayne Enterprises may have excessively lax morals in their executives, but they were rigid about security. There wouldn’t be just one. “Hey, I’m going to need you to delete some footage.”
“Okay. Why?” Tim asked, voice wary from years of experience working with Jason.
“Because I asked you to,” Jason shrugged, despite knowing Tim couldn’t see him. “Level 3, the stairwell, and entrance for the last 30 minutes.”
“No,” Tim finally responded after a beat, but his voice was distracted.
Jason groaned as he opened the door. Just once, it would be nice if his brothers weren’t intentionally difficult. His life had always been hard enough without them contributing to it. “Tim, will you just…”
“No, I mean there is no footage to delete,” Tim exclaimed, barely audible over the rapid typing that could be heard over the line.
“The cameras aren’t working?”
“No, they are. Someone already deleted it.” He added before Jason could interrupt. He sounded like a combination of annoyed, impressed, and incredulous, which was fair, because Wayne Enterprises hired the best cybersecurity people in the world. They were better than the people governments hired. “Whoever did it, we should contract because I can’t get a trace. Damn, they’re fast and good. We could use that. If I could trace them, I’d offer them a job.”
“Is the information worth say… paying for a car,” Jason hedged, his voice a touch too innocent.
“If they’re as good as it looks like they are, it would be worth a fleet of cars,” Tim scoffed. It took a few seconds for Jason’s words to register. “Wait, why would I need to pay for a car?”
“Because the rental company is going to ask for payment or evidence when you tell them your car is destroyed,” Jason responded, like it was the most obvious answer ever. “Since we no longer have the evidence, you’ll have to pay.”
“The car is destroyed!” Tim yelled. His voice echoed throughout the car park, followed by a heavy sigh. “This is the distraction, I assume?”
“Related to it anyway,” he hummed and started walking toward the exit.
Tim let out another deep sigh, this one longer and more resigned. “Do I want to know what happened in the twenty minutes since you left?”
“Do you really care as long as you get the name?”
There was a pause before Tim answered, giving him time to consider. “No,” he finally acknowledged.
“Don’t ask questions then,” Jason chided. He took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t know what direction they went on, but regardless, he had a name and how many Marinette Dupain-Chengs could there be in Paris. He got to the top of the stairs before he broke. “Okay, no, ask questions, I want to tell the story.” His smile was massive as he remembered his conversation. “I also have someone I want you to fire. I don’t know the name yet, but I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”
“Along with the name of the cyberterrorist?” Tim prompted.
“Along with the name of your new Head of Security,” Jason corrected. “And maybe your new sister-in-law.” He hung up and rushed into the night, right past Tim who still had his phone up to his ear, missing Tim calling after him, “So am I doing the mission alone then?”
everyone who is not currently in the process of moving please pause and take a moment to be grateful that you're not currently in the process of moving
It lets people access scientific articles for free. This is dangerous. It helps the free flow of knowledge and reduces the competitive edge of all the people who worked really hard to have been born into a wealth.
Like, it’s literally a website where you can type in the DOI of an article and read it, without ever having to pay the publisher who exploited the author.
So, again, do not, under any circumstance, use Sci-Hub. I mean, can you imagine a world where knowledge is free and easily accessible to everyone? Even, y'know, poor people?
Libgen also has many books online, including textbooks, searchable by name, author, and ISBN. Can you imagine textbook companies not getting their hard-earned income from poor college students? Here is the link just so you make sure that you never accidentally stumble across this horrible, unethical website.
Oh, and while we’re talking about books, if you’ve managed to stay clear from Libgen, definitely don’t go to zlibrary, where you can also find a lot of textbooks, but unfortunately they’re completely free.
Another inside tip from academia: Those papers in really expensive journals that are effectively inaccessible to anyone not in a university network? Depending on the discipline it’s very likely that same paper is on a “preprint” server somewhere, with no access restrictions.
Like if you want to read basically any physics, math, or CS paper, arXiv.org will have you covered, because everyone uploads their papers there before submitting to a journal (and generally updates it after peer review). I know all of my papers are on there. This is such common practice that journals have it baked into their licensing agreements that authors retain the right to upload their work to these places.
So the next time you get hit with that paywall, you may not even need sci-hub, just click the arxiv link on google scholar instead.
if for some reason none of this works, the old “send a email nicely asking for the paper to the author” is always a good trick. remember most scientists hate the commercialisation of scientific knowledge
Many authors of papers are on ResearchGate! You can ask for papers there, if they don’t just post a copy to download. If they’re associated with a college, you can usually find their email addresses in the department directory, also.
Please save and share this info where possible. This report has since been removed by Amnesty International due to legal threats of libel from JK Rowling. This information is no longer easily accessible.
My wife pointed out to me the other day that apparently most people were literally only taught how to say Sorry and not how to Apologize or even that they are different things so here.
If all you ever do is step 1, not only did you not apologize, but people will rightfully stop believing you and start getting pissed or hurt.
Okay. I was on my beloved AO3 and I saw something that made me do a double take. So, now I really want to know…
What is your AO3 user ID?
I’m an OG user 5 digits or less
Six figures baby!
I’m in the millions…
Voting ended on12h
I’m so curious to see how long people have been on AO3! I know some people have been on there since beta/invite only, but I would love to see what the number is on tumblr!
Today I read @packetdancer's A Complete Forking Mess on AO3, and it was glorious. An AU where Jason thinks Marinette is a secret agent on the same case, but Marinette thinks he's also a Michelin food critic reviewing the same restaurants... what could possibly go wrong?
Video summary: Tiktok by @pippabarnes - clips of a person with alopecia applying colourful makeup and other decorations to a bald spot as part of very dramatic looks, narrating now her relationship to her bald spots has developed over time
yousharknotpass
izzy806
titsay
baratheonpilled
andulkaphoto
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
amandla
theartofmadeline
gummygunk
