Couple Practice was- interesting to say the least. Marinette found herself struggling not to blush from time to time as they navigated the okays and things to avoid in their “relationship.” What kinds of small signs of intimacy were okay, what to stay away from, and currently, the art of hand holding.

“We should interlock fingers.”

“Hmm?”

“We should interlock our fingers,” Dick repeated, letting go of her hand, changing his grip so their fingers interlocked in the grip, as they walked. “Like this. It’s a more intimate hold.”

“Oh.”

“This feel okay? Comfortable?”

“Perfect. It’s perfect. Fits like a glove.”

“Does it now?” Dick asked, glancing over with a grin, as Marinette blushed softly, turning her head.

“Yes. It does. Now I think it’s about time you try and see if we can get those tickets,” she told him, giving two soft quizzes before letting go of his hand as they stopped outside of a small fabric store across from the tour building.

“I’ll be right in here when you’re done,” she told him. “Good luck.”

“I’ve been blessed now. Our plan will be sure to succeed.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she disappeared into the fabric store with a grin.

“Hi,” Dick greeted, grinning. “I was wondering if you could help me out.”

“I can try. What can I do for you today, Sir?” the clerk, Cindy, according to her name tag, asked.

“I know you’re booked for tonight. And I know this is totally all my fault but I’m in town for the night with the woman I love. She’s across the street looking at fabrics. We just got back from visiting her family in Paris. And I want to propose to her tonight on the tour. I know it’s full. And this is all my fault. But I was wondering if there was any way you could make space for two more people?”

“Oh, that is so sweet of you! Let me grab my manager. She’s the one to ask about all this.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem.”

Dick watched as she left, ducking into a back room for a minute before reappearing with a stern looking older woman.

“Here he is. He wants to propose on tonight’s tour before he and his girlfriend leave town.”

“I see. Well unfortunately the tour is fully booked. I’d be happy to put your name on the waitlist, but it is quite long already.”

“Isn’t there any way you could squeeze us in anyways? She’s been dying to come here since moving to the States, and it’s our anniversary of when we first met.”

“Oh please, Darlene. Can’t you make an exception just this once.”

“Rules are rules. And a soft story is not going to make an exception.”

“Oh she’d kill me if she knew I was about to do this,” he sighed, about to take a move out of Bruce’s book.

“And what is that?”

“How much extra would you want to squeeze two more people into tonight’s tour?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“A hundred each? One fifty?”

“I’m sorry? One fifty? As in one hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s only fair since I’m making a last minute request and it’d mean the world to me if you could get me in,” he told her, scribbling out a check for the promised amount. “Thank you so much. Truly. I appreciate it,” he said, smiling as he handed her the check. “6 o’clock?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“See you then.”

“Good luck tonight!”

“Thank you!”

—-----------------------------------

Marinette was grinning, soaking up all the information the tour guide was offering

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are one of my absolute best friends. I will never forget when I first met you 5 years ago today, in that alley in Gotham and you whipped me across the face with a plank of wood because you thought I was another mugger like the three you had already taken out.” Marinette felt the heat rush to her cheeks as he said that, a few soft chuckles echoing through the group as he continued. 

“Looking back on it- I think that was the moment I fell for you. Both literally and figuratively. You apologized so profoundly and then proceeded to do the same thing later that night, only reaffirming my feelings,” A soft laugh escaped as he mentioned that, only the second time had been in masks, and instead of a wooden plan it had been Lady Noire’s bo staff, her first night out. 

“Despite our rough start I found myself chasing after you, determined to get to know this fiery fashion designer from Paris who makes the best pastries I have ever tried. We have had our ups and downs. We have gone through thick and thin together. You are one of the most talented people I have ever known and you never fail to amaze me. From your designs, to your insane plans, to your baking. Everything you do you put your heart and soul into it and I can’t imagine not seeing everything you have yet to accomplish. And I can only hope you won’t ever run from me again as much as you did at the beginning, even though I know you enjoyed the game of cat and mouse. I love you. And it has taken me far too long to come to that realization. Marinette, will you do me the honor of being my partner? Will you marry me?”

Marinette nodded, taking a deep breath, cursing him silently for making her feel so emotional with a fake proposal, before giving a soft “yes” as he slid the ring on her finger before scoping her up in a hug and spinning her around. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered, as she rested her forehead against his.

“Someone’s committed.”

“I’m a performer through and through.”

She gave a small nod before meeting him half way, smiling into the kiss as he gently set her down. Finally noticing the applause of the other guests in the tour group. Several coming up to offer their congratulations and one of the workers, tears in her eyes, excitedly getting Dick’s number to send the video and pictures she took for him, saying how beautiful it was as Dick intertwined his hand with Marinette’s.

Leaving the tour was a whirlwind as the “couple” finally managed to escape, walking down the sidewalk hand in hand for a bit.

"Don't you think you were laying it on kind of heavy back there?"

"Not at all. I meant every word," he told her, she let go of his hand, freezing in the middle of the sidewalk as he continued on a few steps.

"What?"

He stopped, turning to face her, a faint blush covering his cheeks.

“I meant every word I said in there, Mar. You’re amazing, and one of my best friends, and I love you. But I don’t want to risk losing you so you can just ignore-”

She didn’t give him the chance to finish before leaning up and kissing him for a moment before pulling away. “Don’t plan on my ignoring it, Songbird. Especially after that speech you gave back there, because .”

“So where does that leave us?” he asked.

“Well you did just propose to me….”

He grinned, taking her hand once more. “We’ll get you an actual ring tomorrow.”

“And tell our families as well?”

“Yours. I want to see how long it’ll take mine to figure it out.”

She laughed. “You’re joking.”

“You have to be curious.”

“Alright, alright I am.”

“I knew it.”

She laughed, giving him a small shoulder check, before resting her head on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get going. We have a long, traffic filled drive ahead of us.”

“After you, Love.”

“Love?”

“I can not call you that if you don’t like it.”

"Who's there?" Jason was on guard. He was disoriented and in an unknown location. Was he kidnapped again? No, wait, the Jo-

A melodic giggle brought him out of his thoughts.

"Silly Jay, meeting you is always like this, isn't it?"

Ethereal. That was the only way Jason could describe her. A small fairy in a crimson, swishy petal-styled dress flew in front of his eyes. She was a red rose. He was starting to think she was part of his hallucinations. Maybe from an induced coma. There was no way a face so perfect existed in this world. Neither did fairies, his mind quipped.

"Then again, you never seem to remember," she teased in a light-hearted tone but Jason could hear the loneliness hidden underneath.

Jason flushed under her bright smile. To distract himself, he looked around his surroundings, and that froze whatever banter he thought of to cheer her up.

Here lies Jason Todd. A son. A brother. A friend.

The thing- The gravestone his hand phased through before the fairy flurried into his life was his own.

Jason Todd was dead. He was dead.

That was why he couldn't touch the object, why his vision was blurry and mind hazy, why he could see a fucking fairy that never should have existed. He had died at the hands of the Joker. After taking on the beating of a lifetime, he had borne the full brunt of an explosion. Batman was too late. He couldn't save his Robin. He was dea-

Yellow. The pixie flew so close to his face that that was all Jason could focus on. A shade so brilliant and godlike, it was like all the stars nested in a soup of liquid gold. Her eyes held an otherworldly beauty that gave such an elusively familiar feeling that Jason would have thought he imagined it had the fairy not alluded to knowing him.

"...Who are you?" he whispered, unwilling to break the bubble of the moment they shared.

She gave a feathery laugh at that, "You always ask the same questions, don't you, Jay?"

The fairy pressed a light kiss to his forehead before pulling back, saying, "I'm Marie the Pixie."

Marie. The name unconsciously rolled off his tongue as if it was coming home. And Jason just knew that it suited the fairy - no, pixie - perfectly.

"Hello, I'm your soulmate," she said with a mischievous grin before breaking into giggles as he gave her a blank stare. Somehow, as dubious as her words were, he trusted them.

"Sorry Jay," she tried to hold back her laughter. "Last time, you told me to try it like this."

She grinned at him so vividly that Jason almost wished that moment would never pass. It was as if his very soul missed her smile even if he couldn't remember her.

"Welcome to the world of the dead! But don't worry, Jay, this is only temporary. Someday soon, you'll come back to the living," she reassured him, but that only served to baffle the boy.

"Temporary?" he asked, mind swirling with thoughts of never wanting to leave this girl - his girl - behind.

She gave him a small smile, "Fate hasn't cut your thread just yet. Phantoms are a form meant only for the few destined to return."

"And I was one before? We've met before?" he said out loud.

She hummed, caressing his gravestone. "James, a war hero stuck in a decade-long coma. That was the longest we were ever together."

Jason wanted to ask why she couldn't come back with him, but he held his tongue. "...And the other times?"

"Sometimes a shadow, sometimes a ghost, a couple of times, a vengeful spirit. But only one time a phantom. And yet, still always my beloved Jay," she had a distant look in her eyes as if seeing something that wasn't there.

"James was special," she grinned at him, but Jason could see the loss in her eyes. He felt a twinge of jealousy at that. "And so are you, Jason."

They sat like that in comfortable silence against his gravestone. Now that he could focus on it, he was able to come into contact with objects again. It seemed that his pixie had grounded his mind.

"So..." Jason started with caution. "How did we become soulmates?"

A flash of emotion too quick for the boy to catch appeared on the pixie's face.

"Wanna watch the sunrise? I know the best spot! Living a couple of centuries does that to you," she laughed artificially in obvious avoidance.

"Sure." Jason let her; she would talk when she was ready, he knew.

Grabbing his hand, the pixie let her ladybug wings extend completely for the first time. The way the light bounced off the crystal-clear wings was magical to Jason. It struck a chord deep in his soul that he felt always happened when they met again. So familiar yet so achingly warm. Like freshly baked bread, which was how his pixie smelled like, his mind supplied unnecessarily.

"Come on!" she cheered, fluttering her wings faster than her prior casual glides. The pair ascended high above the clouds, and Jason's breath was taken away. The mix of reds, purples, pinks, yellows, and oranges from up above was a more wondrous view than he could have ever imagined. It felt like a scene straight out of a classic. Only the best prose fit to describe the sight.

Wow.

"Right?" the pixie giggled. Jason hadn't realized he spoke out loud.

She leaned her head against his shadowy shoulder before sighing, "It never gets easier telling you this."

"You don't have to," he assured her. She gave a wistful smile at that response. "You always say that."

She took a deep breath before saying, "I was a hero. I was Ladybug, Protector of Paris. The whole city relied on me, but I-"

"I failed them," her voice broke. "I was too weak. I let Hawkmoth win, and when he made his wish, the universe demanded a price."

"What was the wish?" Jason breathed lightly.

She gave a defeated, wry smile at that. "He wanted his wife back."

Jason said nothing, only placing his arm around her shoulders, giving her his silent comfort.

She rubbed circles onto his hand for a while before continuing, "But Emilie Agreste's soul was damaged by a broken miraculous, and fixing that required pure creation magic."

"But to pour in creation, one must take from creation. And I had to pay the price," she let out a deep, sardonic laugh. "I was erased from existence and from everyone's memory. I lost my soul to become a pixie only able to meddle with the world when the scales were tipping the balance."

She looked him dead in the eye, "Until I met you."

"...Me?" Jason blurted, astonished.

"Yes, you," she gave him a soft grin with clear love in her eyes.

"No matter what, fate can't help but love her ladybugs," she played around with the clouds at her fingertips, not looking at Jason.

"But you died," he said accusingly.

"But I met you," she looked at him, and to Jason, everything just felt right in the world. Even if he was dead. "In a world without soulmates, fate had let me meet my destiny. How can I hate her when she led me straight into your arms?"

They didn't talk after that, choosing instead to bask in the other's presence.

"Do we only meet when I die?" he broke the silence after a long while.

She hummed in response. "You stay until the world calls your soul back. Sometimes that's a day. Sometimes, a few weeks. Occasionally, a few years. Four at most, usually."

"It depends on how badly the universe needs you," she teased. "I had James for a decade during his coma but only an hour when he died. It was the middle of a war, and your presence was immediately demanded back."

"Why? Why me?"

She peered at him so intently that Jason felt she was seeing through his very soul in more ways than one.

"Our connection. My eyes are golden now, but they used to be blue. After fate had taken me, some of their power couldn't help but bleed over into my soul, and in turn, yours too. Our presence in the world, one in the living and one in the dead, balances the world in a core-deep sense."

"Then you'll just be stuck here forever?" he asked, incredulously. That was shitty treatment for a heroine said to be loved by the fucking world itself.

"Well-" Before she could respond, the edges of Jason's soul turned a blinding yellow like the sun.

"It's time," Marie said with a sad smile. "Goodbye, Jason. Stay safe, I hope I don't see you again for a while."

"Marie," Jason was panicking. He couldn't leave. Not yet. Not without her. But the yellow was burning him, and he could see hints of toxic green in his vision that was quickly blurring out of focus.

"I'll always be waiting for you."

That was the last Jason heard before he was engulfed back into the dark abyss with crisp lime lines swirling around him.

~

Back in Gotham, Jason was irritated at the ache he could feel deep in his soul. He wanted to blame it on the Pit, but something in the back of his mind told him he was wrong. He felt like he was missing something - someone, his soul whispers - but he didn't know what - who - and it was driving him insane.

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to dodge the girl who tripped into him. A crack in the pavement was precisely in the middle of the pair.

"I- I'm so sorry, monsieur."

She looked up at him, and Jason froze. For a moment, he could swear there was a surge of gold in her eyes, but he blinked and it was gone.

Her crimson lipstick reminded him of something. Not blood, but something more... cheerful. Valentine roses, he mused.

He held her arms as she wobbled, unsteady on her feet, and at the contact, it felt like everything clicked into place for the man.

He gave the petite woman a dangerous smirk. He purred, "Enchantée, mademoiselle."

The girl in his arms - his girl, his mind corrected - froze at that, flushing a beautifully deep red. He gave a husky laugh at that reaction. It was so innocent.

"Marinette," she breathed airily.

"Jason." The twinkle in his eyes he never knew he was missing was back. "Care to grab a coffee with me?"

---

Big thanks to @verymuchimmortalcat for being my beta!

 Marinette was his precious loving soulmate, she's a part of his hoard as much as he is of hers. Their hearts beat in sync. He could feel the distant frenetic desperate pulse of her heart tethered to him, completely in time to his equally pounding heart despite the distance between them. He could also feel the stinging scratches and scrapes on her hands and knees on his own, the deep ache in her muscles and bones in his, the flaring stabs across her torso and shoulders with every movement she makes in his as well, just as if those were his injuries instead of hers alone.

 She could probably feel the numb agony of the undoubtedly permanent damage done to him in this cage. How she was still able to keep going, keep fighting, with the pain slowly killing him—them—, was beyond him.

 That was how their soulbond worked, an eye for an eye, a heart for a heart, a soul for a soul, pain for pain. Bearing what the other is taking, sharing the burden of their suffering.

 A blessing and a curse, always being able to tell whether your soulmate was hiding injuries or overworking themselves to the detriment of their body. It was… it was probably a relief for her, in the time after his capture—to know the Joker's been keeping him alive.

 Marinette's heartbeat stuttered as the fight drew away from the cage and out of his sight. Heart in his throat, Tim barely holds back a desperate keel. He can't afford to distract her now—

 Electricity, surging through his body. Lancing pain whiting his vision out.

 He could barely hear her screams through the crackling around him. No, no, no, no—please.

 Maniacal laughter rang out clearly above the thundering of their shared heartbeat and the sizzling searing of electrical burns tearing through their bodies.

 And oh, oh…

  Oh no.

 If he thought the electricity was bad enough, then the five pinpricks of pain in the centre of his chest shouldn't have been noticeable.

 But it was. And brutally so. His chest. Ruptured open. Tearing and shredding apart like something was being ripped out. Or well, not his chest. But Marinette's.

 Throat constricting, he could barely breathe. The pain was so consuming. He couldn't tell if the struggle he had breathing was his or hers, or both of theirs.

 His, apparently.

 Seeing as Tim could feel it.

 The very moment his soulmate's—Marinette's—heart ceased to beat.

 That gaping agony rupturing and rending through his chest and sternum—right through to where their hearts lay in each of their chests—was painting a clear enough guess of what was happening—had happened. To her.

 “No!” He barely rasped under the restraining muzzle. Please survive! He wanted to beg her, please hold on just a little bit longer! The others must be near soon…

 The tether snapped. The bond shattered.

 “Plea—” Tears leaked from his eyes, stinging the small sore scaleless patches of skin as they dripped down his cheeks.

 The pain of her injuries faded as her heartbeat's absence grew longer.

 The Joker skipped back into view from within the wretched cage, a blue crystalline heart of a dragon, bleeding and unbeating in his hands. “Would you look at this! A pure of heart sapphire!”

 Bursting into cackles at his own words, the Joker barrelled over, grin sickeningly wide.

 The breath caught in Tim's throat.

 It… it should have killed him too. He should be dead.

 “NOOO!” He rasped again, throat bleeding from the strain. Clutching at his chest, overcome, he desperately wailed for his other half. Don't leave me! He wanted to cry out to all that remained of her, please, how am I supposed to live without you?

 His wail was cut off sharply with a wet cough. Choking on the blood from his throat as the muzzle kept him from taking any deeper breaths. 

An emptiness—hollowness, settled inside his heart. As the lonesome silence, barring the incessant laughter, persisted.

 What else? He thought to himself deadeningly—despondently, what else am I supposed to do? Without you here?

 The Joker straightened up and sneered at Tim. “Awww, aren't you having fun?”

 “No,” Tim whispered under his breath, closing his eyes and using what little strength he had left to curl up into a ball, covering himself with his clipped wings. “I just want to go home to my wife, my soulmate…”

 “Well let's fix that then! They do say laughter is the best medicine!” The Joker crowed, dropping the heart on the ground before moving out of sight once again. Followed by a chuff and a hiss of liquid gas spraying from a machine.

 Tim flinched. Expecting the worst.

  The machine exploded. The cage rocked crashing over—freeing him.

 The sounds of gunfire and batarangs reached his ears but Tim only had eyes for Marinette. Disconsolate, he slowly crawled to her and her heart with everything he had left. Fragilely, he scooped her sapphire heart up in his claws and cradled it against his chest fruitlessly, as if the proximity to his own heart would somehow breathe life back into hers. Once he reached her body, he bowed his head and let the tears spill from his eyes.

 This couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end. Not here, not now, not for her. But it was. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

 His heartbeat felt lonely.

———

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