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Living in Paris has become anything but normal these days. But even when I think I’ve seen it all, something new happens that changes what I understand and what I don’t. 

For example, there was this one particular akumatized villain who referred to himself as the Evillustrator. He was one of the most powerful akumatized villains ever, having the ability to draw anything he wanted and bring it into existence. He was a formidable enemy for our heroes, but they eventually managed to defeat him and purify his akuma. But something went wrong. While he was de-akumatized with no issues, he was able to retain his alter ego’s form and powers. And thus, the third hero of Paris was born.

Now calling himself Mightillustrator, he joins Ladybug and Chat Noir when fighting akumas and saving the city. The public initially was unsure of his intention, but he soon proved himself to be a massive help. Within just a few weeks, the city trusted him completely, and he became just as important to Parisians as Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

As for myself, I am possibly the biggest fan of Mightillustrator in the whole city. Something about him caught my interest, and I’ve taken an interest in his adventures ever since. I’ve never spoken to him before, but from what I’ve seen from his interactions with other civilians, he seems so kind and easily likable. When I walk to and from school, I hope to see him on his way to fight another akuma and save us all once again. And as soon as I noticed several news stations’ lack of interest in talking about him, I took it upon myself to do exactly that. I’m no reporter or anything, but as a passionate writer, I’ve recorded a great many of his escapades in my journal.

Someday, I’d love to share my writing with the world. But for now, it’ll be my secret.  

“Hi Marc!”

Pencil screeching to a halt, Marc Anciel glanced up to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng leaning over him, a bright smile on her face. He blinked a few times, the last bit of his daydream fading away at the sound of his friend’s voice, and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. He leaned his arms on his notebook in a way that seemed casual but was very deliberately hiding the story he was working on. He’d probably end up scrapping this one anyway; it was just too embarrassing. “Oh, hi Marinette. What’s up?”

“I wanted to say hi to my friend, of course!” Marinette smiled, but when Marc gave her a look that clearly said he wasn’t buying it, she laughed and sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine. I wanted to invite you to the art club. We’re meeting after school today, and I really think you’d enjoy it.”

“Because Nathaniel’s there.”

“Not just that!” Marinette exclaimed, indignant. “I just think it’d be a great place for you to write. We all work on our own projects, and everyone’s really positive and supportive. Besides, we’re all from Mme. Bustier’s homeroom, and we were hoping to get some people from Mme. Mendeliev’s class to join too.”

Marc considered this. On one hand, he was sort-of-but-not-really avoiding his friend, Nathaniel Kurtzberg. He didn’t want to actually avoid him, especially after all that Nathaniel had been through a few weeks ago, but he didn’t go out of his way to see him either, as Nathaniel had been acting a little weird around him lately, so Marc was never sure how he wanted him to act in return. It was so, so awkward with what had happened when Nathaniel was akumatized, and while Marc wanted to act like everything was normal and fine, it was near-impossible after going on a date with his friend and secret crush. What if he did the wrong thing and lost his friendship forever? He’d never forgive himself.

On the other hand, having a safe place to write would be nice, much better than trying to hide underneath the stairs as he’d done for years. Artists tended to respect the wishes of other artists, not looking at unfinished work unless prompted, so Marc’s personal writing would likely stay as much of a secret as he wanted it to be. Marc’s little haven under the stairs was too public, too exposed, to get any proper work done. And maybe there were enough people in the art club that he could just not talk to Nathaniel. And it wouldn’t hurt to check out the art club for Marinette’s sake. Or his own.

“Okay.” Marc relented. “But only for you.”

Marinette grinned. “Perfect! It’s right after school, in the art room. Wait, you know where that is, right?”

“Room 33?” He could hear regret tinging his words. 

“Yes!” She clasped her hands together. “Oh, I just know you won’t regret it! And maybe you’ll even let me read some of your writing while you’re there?”

“Uh, sure. Maybe.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait!” And with that, Marinette collected her bag and began to make her way across the courtyard, likely heading to her own class. 

Marc trailed her with his eyes, biting his lip in regret. Why had he agreed to go anywhere that Nathaniel was? It was hard enough to not interact with him before and after school, when Nathaniel would wait conspicuously near Marc’s classroom, eyes boring holes into Marc’s skull like he was trying to get his attention telepathically. And Marc would say hi and run through the usual script that people conduct with people they barely know, which almost felt accurate to their dynamic now. Then they’d make empty promises to catch up later. 

It wasn’t Marc’s fault, okay? It wasn’t his fault that Nathaniel was acting weird, just staring and hoping Marc would bridge the gap that had become insurmountable between the two of them. Even if Marc knew in his heart that Nathaniel was hoping for Marc to be the first one to reach out and connect like they used to, he couldn’t do it. 

After all, every time Marc looked at Nathaniel, he couldn’t help but feel Evillustrator’s hand on his chin, head leaning closer for a kiss, a fire burning in both of their souls. An image that felt like a dream, but at the time, it was the most Marc had ever felt alive. 

And Nathaniel was completely unaware of it all.

~

“. . . and this one is Mightillustrator fighting Antibug.” Nathaniel explained, pointing the pencil sketch of his OC on one of many drawings that he’d completed over the past week. He was particularly proud of this one, having taken the vague memories of going after Chloé from when he was Evillustrator and turning them into something far more heroic and empowering. “She took over Paris, trying to replace the real Ladybug, and he’s the only one able to stand up to her.”

Jean-Pierre Monlataing, the middle-aged art teacher who was always ready to hype up his students’ projects, nodded his approval. “So his name isn’t Evillustrator anymore?”

“Well, that was his name before he turned good.” Nathaniel said, idly fiddling with a pencil. He didn’t like to talk about Evillustrator much, especially not so soon after the incident had occurred, but it was a critical part of his OC’s backstory. He had to reclaim his character from Hawkmoth, he just had to. It was his idea first, and he wasn’t going to let a real-life evil villain ruin it for him. “Now that he’s on the heroes’ side, he goes by Mightillustrator.”

“Ah, bad boy gone good. I like it!” M. Monlataing smiled and continued to flip through the drawings, fortunately not asking any further questions about Evillustrator. “These are fantastic, Nathaniel! I have to say, I know you’ve published some on the school website, but have you considered making a compilation of sorts? Or maybe a graphic novel?”

“I mean . . .” Nathaniel shrugged, setting his drawings on the table next to him. “I’ve been wanting to make a comic book or something, but I don’t think it’ll work. I’m not good with the writing part, just drawing scenes.”

“Why don’t you find someone who’s good at writing to team up with you? Then they could be the scriptwriter, and you could do the illustrations.” Alix asked, voice muffled by the gas mask she wore when working with her spray paints. “I have a suggestion.”

“I’m not asking Marc. He’s not even here. Besides . . .” Nathaniel paused, biting his lip. He didn’t know the full details of what had happened between the two of them during the Evillustrator incident, but Alix knew even less, and that’s how Nathaniel was going to keep it. He couldn’t tell her why he was suddenly acting so strange around his other best friend, and if he was being honest, he didn’t really know either. “I don’t want him to feel forced to write stories about the stuff I like.”

Mostly because Nathaniel’s drawings, when they weren’t in media res of heroic battles, tended to feature random girl characters he made up, abstractly choosing a hair color, clothing style, and giving them the role of the romantic interest for Mightillustrator, inadvertently making Mightillustrator seem like a player of sorts, but it was better than the alternative. He wasn’t letting himself get caught by someone like Chloé again. Even if everyone in class accepted his bisexuality, it made him feel safer to keep that under wraps, even in his stories of fantasy. If Chloé could so easily discover that he liked boys, what did that mean about other people he couldn’t trust? His heart was too guarded to open up to people, and the idea that anyone could discover something so personal was terrifying.

And most upsetting was the idea that his mom could find out. Famous architect Shirel Kurtzberg was known for her straight lines and straightforward life, and her idea of “straightness” extended beyond the literal. She’d made plenty of comments before when Marc was over at the Kurtzberg house, her words casual but her tone snippy and judgmental as she honed in on Marc’s makeup, clothing choices, or love of rainbows. She’d already long cracked down on his failing grades, his clothes, his future. Even his Bar Mitzvah was completely micromanaged by her. He knew that the minute she suspected he was interested in boys, there would never be peace in his house again.

But Nathaniel didn’t want to force Marc into doing the same. Marc wasn’t interested in girls at all, and Marc also probably didn’t want to spend his time writing about Nathaniel’s OC falling in love with some made-up girl. Nathaniel didn’t want to assume anything, but he figured that if Marc wrote romance ever, he probably wrote about two guys together, as Marc was semi-openly gay. Nathaniel didn’t want to make Marc uncomfortable by asking him to write about his own dreams, his own desires, and his own feelings. It just seemed like a strange thing to do. Not to mention, Nathaniel personally didn’t like the idea of asking his biggest crush to write about some fictional girls, paranoid it would give the message that he didn’t like Marc. 

And Nathaniel wanted Marc to know he liked him. He just didn’t want to tell Marc.

Alix pulled down her gas mask, amusement in her eyes. “If you say so.”

“I know so. I only draw stuff about me and the things I like. Why would Marc want to write about my OC? I bet his stories are way more interesting than anything I could come up with.”

“Don’t sell yourself short!” Marinette cut in. “You’re both so creative, you just need to put your talents together to make something even cooler than you could make separately. Maybe he would want to write about your ideas! Besides, I know Marc would love to work with you. Trust me.” 

“I don’t know.” Nathaniel sighed. “I just—I really don’t know.”

He turned back to the drawing he was working on, dejected. Sure, he was decent at art, but even though he’d never read any of Marc’s writing, he just knew it would be so much more professional than his own work—and probably a lot less reliant on wish fulfillment. Besides, he still wasn’t sure how to act around Marc these days, and it seemed like Marc had noticed, so interacting with him had become awkward and almost scary. All they did was talk like strangers, a sharp difference from their earlier trust in each other that rivaled any other friendship  Nathaniel’s ever had.

With all that in mind, how could he ever ask Marc to work together?

~

Marc stepped through the doorway, expecting to see the classroom full of students from Marinette’s class. But instead, he counted only five students other than himself. Marinette was stitching some lace to the collar of a pink blouse at a table, and behind her, Juleka Couffaine sat on a beanbag chair, playing a few notes on her bass guitar. Rose Lavillant sat criss-cross on the ground next to her girlfriend, scribbling something into a notebook with large headphones over her ears. At the front of the room was Alix Kubdel, wearing a gas mask and holding one of many spray paints that she’d been using to create a mural on the wall. And at a desk in the front—

Marc froze. So much for avoiding Nathaniel.

“Hey, Marc!” Marinette had noticed her friend’s presence and stood up to wave to him. “I’m so glad you came! I wasn’t sure if you were going to or not, but I was really hoping you would!”

Marc attempted a smile, hyper-aware of the fact that Nathaniel was now staring intently at him, his eyes slightly widened. Did Nathaniel not want him here? Just like his worst nightmares. “Yeah, I’m here!” 

“It’s kinda funny you showed up when you did. Nathaniel was just talking about you!”

Well, if Marc wasn’t ready to die right where he was standing before, he sure he was now. What could Nathaniel possibly have had to say about him when he wasn’t even there? Nathaniel’s reaction to this announcement didn’t help matters at all, as he seemed mildly panicked at Marinette’s words. After casting a quick glance over to Alix, he made eye contact with Marc again, seemingly unsure of what to do. And Marc could relate to that. 

“That’s . . . that’s great!” Marc stammered. “Um, hi Nathaniel.”

“Oh!” Nathaniel waved awkwardly. “Hi Marc.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Marc noticed Alix and Marinette exchanging a pointed glance. So Alix was in on it too? She also believed that Nathaniel was secretly in love with Marc this whole time? She did know him better than anyone else . . . but that didn’t mean anything. Only Nathaniel knew how he really felt, but based on his actions, Marc could make a pretty good guess, especially considering that his interest seemed to lean towards girls for the moment. And judging by how Nathaniel hadn’t ever mentioned anything even close to romantic about the two of them, along with how he’d been acting so strange since the Evillustrator incident, it was a safe bet to say that they were never going to be anything besides platonic friends.

“Yes, welcome to Room 33!” the art teacher—M. Monlataing—spoke up. “This space is reserved primarily for art classes, but during art club, students have a chance to work on various projects and get creative feedback. Marinette mentioned that you’re a writer?”

“I write sometimes, yeah.” Marc muttered, clutching his journal to his chest.

“Excellent! You’d be the first writer to join the club this year!” M. Monlataing smiled warmly, and Marc attempted to do the same, but it probably looked more like a grimace than anything. “Right now, we have Rose and Juleka working on some music—”

“Hi Marc!” Rose exclaimed, waving excitedly. Her voice was louder than usual, likely from being unable to hear over the music in her headphones. Juleka was far quieter, giving Marc a nod of acknowledgement before going back to her bass guitar.

“—Marinette is finishing up some sewing, Alix is working on her mural—”

Alix turned and pushed down her gas mask. “Good to see you here, Marc!”

“—and it looks like you already know Nathaniel.”

Marc bit his lip. “Yeah, we’re—we’re friends. Best friends.”

Monsieur Monlataing didn’t seem to notice or pay any attention to Marc’s moment of uncertainty, which was exactly how Marc wanted it. “Perfect! I’m so glad that the art club is reaching other classes. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it enough to become a regular here!”

And then something caught Marc’s eye. Without thinking, he stepped forward and made his way over to Nathaniel and the pile of drawings on the desk next to him. Only slightly aware of everyone’s eyes on him, Marc looked closely at the first pencil sketch in the stack. It was one he’d never seen before, not anything like the few drawings Nathaniel had shown him in the past or the ones posted on the school website. The drawing depicted Nathaniel’s OC fighting one of the previous akumas—Volpina—alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir at the Louvre. The crowd below appeared shocked at the ensuing battle, and one of the random people visible was Alix, standing next to—was that Marc? It sure seemed like it, and the sketch version of Marc seemed in awe of the heroes above him. The drawing was far more detailed and intricate than the ones Marc had written his stories about, and he could already think of several story ideas based on it alone. He had no idea how Nathaniel could draw like that, or even that he could do it in the first place.

“It’s not done.” Nathaniel said, his tone apologetic.

“What?” Marc nearly jumped at Nathaniel’s voice, suddenly hyper-aware of their close proximity. “I mean, this is . . . you’re so talented! I haven’t seen anything like this before. The movement, the expressions, the attitudes— it’s just so . . .” He trailed off, unable to complete a coherent thought.

Nathaniel met Marc’s eyes, his cheeks flushed with red. “Thanks . . . that’s nice.”

“I mean it!” Marc exclaimed, stepping back slightly. Had his words seemed too flirty? He couldn’t help but second-guess everything he did around his friend since the Evillustrator incident, and yet again, Marc had probably gone too far. Time for damage control. “You’re just really good at art, and I was so shocked to see all the details and time you probably spent on it. Not that I’m shocked you’re talented or anything! Of course you are! But I just haven’t seen any of your art like this before. It’s so . . . so . . .”

“So stupid.” came a voice from the front of the room. Both boys turned to face Chloé Bourgeois, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and lips pursed. Sabrina lingered behind her, holding a large portfolio. “He just draws the same thing all the time. His stupid character saving the day or whatever with Ladybug. What, do you have a crush on her now?”

Nathaniel went pale, glancing between Chloé and Marc. “I . . . uh . . .”

“What, you jealous?” Alix asked Chloé, pushing down her gas mask once again to reveal a smug smile. “You think that he’ll date Ladybug before you get the chance? We all know how much of a super-fan you are.”

“Shut it, Kubdel!” Chloé snapped. She turned back to Nathaniel, lips parted as if she were about to say something else. But before she did, she made eye contact with Marc, and something in her expression shifted. Recognition, maybe? But Marc had intentionally never spoken to Chloé before. He’d heard enough horror stories from Marinette and Nathaniel to risk it. 

When Chloé didn’t say anything, M. Monlataing spoke up. “Remember, your peers’ feelings are a personal topic, and this is a safe space.” He paused, looking over at Chloé and Sabrina. “Art club is meeting right now, so you can only hang out here if you have a creative project to work on.”

“Duh, of course I have a project!” Chloé exclaimed, turning towards Sabrina and the portfolio. “Why would I be here if I didn’t? It’s an incredible project that’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before!”

Alix snorted. “Don’t tell me. Another collage of selfies?”

At that, the whole room burst out laughing. Even Marc grinned, temporarily forgetting the fear that had taken over his thoughts. And most importantly, Nathaniel visibly relaxed, looking over at Alix with amusement in his eyes.  

“What? No!” Chloé ripped the portfolio from Sabrina’s hands. “You know what, you all don’t deserve to see my project! Come on Sabrina, I can see we’re not wanted here.”

And with that, Chloé strode out of the room and down the hallway, Sabrina dutifully following behind her.

“I will say, there’s nothing wrong with photography.” M. Monlataing reminded Alix. “And self-expression is the key to creating meaningful artwork. If Chloé really did have a project to work on, I’d hate for her to feel unwelcome here.”

“She always makes Nath feel unwelcome. I’m just returning the favor.” Alix muttered, turning back to her mural and adjusting her gas mask. “But whatever.”

Monsieur Monlataing shrugged and turned back to Marc and Nathaniel. “You know, you got here at the right time, Marc. I was just speaking with Nathaniel about creating a comic book out of his drawings, and he’s looking for a scriptwriter. He said you probably wouldn’t be interested, but it never hurts to ask.”

“A scriptwriter? Me? ” Marc repeated, frozen in uncertainty. 

He looked over at Nathaniel, who was smiling hopefully, a clear indicator that he was actually interested in working with Marc on something and it wasn’t just an idea that M. Monlataing came up with. But fear took over once again. Nathaniel was so, so talented at art, and Marc’s writing paled in comparison. He didn’t want to ruin Nathaniel’s chances at being a successful illustrator with his mediocre writing skills. Not to mention, Nathaniel never illustrated the type of stories Marc liked to write. He liked fantasy stories about himself getting the girl, not Marc’s attempts at projecting his desired love story between two boys into his own fantasy world. On top of that, spending all that one-on-one time with Nathaniel was a terrifying prospect. Nathaniel had been acting a bit strangely around him lately, and even though they currently seemed to be back where they’d been before Evillustrator, Marc could predict the uncomfortable atmosphere where he would spend all of his emotional energy trying not to get too close. It was one thing that Nathaniel knew he was gay, but it was another thing altogether to know about his stupid crush. Marc was so sure that Nathaniel would see him in a very different light, one far less flattering than being the nice gay friend. Would Nathaniel be disgusted? Laugh at him?

“Marc?” Nathaniel asked.

He couldn’t do it. It was too much.

“I—I don’t, um, write that kind of thing.” Marc stammered. “My writing’s actually really boring, and it’s, uh, not that good. And I just—you know, I can’t . . . I shouldn’t . . .” Nathaniel’s expression grew somber, causing Marc’s fight or flight instincts to kick in. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to get out of there. “Uh, I gotta go!”

And with that, Marc dashed out of the room, not looking where he was going, then bam! He’d run headfirst into one of the metal poles that dotted the railing. His head exploded with pain. He reached up to clutch his head, and he was about to sit until the pain went away when he realized that Marinette and Nathaniel definitely heard what had happened and would probably be worried enough to check on him. Which would be horribly embarrassing after his already inglorious exit.

So instead, he ran off without a second thought of who or what he was leaving behind.

~

“Marc!” Marinette cried, sprinting through the doorway of Room 33. But it was too late. She only saw a flash of red from his hoodie before he was completely out of sight. She swallowed the sinking feeling in her gut and tried again: “Marc, wait!”

“Marinette?”  Nathaniel called from inside the art room. “Is he . . . ?”

She sighed. It was no use. “I’m sorry, Nath.”

Marc was generally an awkward person, and it seemed like all the unspoken tension between him and Nathaniel had come to a head when he was asked about his writing. After that, Marinette knew her friend well enough to predict that he’d want to hide from everyone as long as possible. And she couldn’t even give Nathaniel a real reason for why Marc ran off. It was Marc’s feelings, not Marinette’s, and while she really hoped they would just confess their feelings to each other, it obviously wasn’t that easy. Both boys were quiet and anxious, and if Marinette couldn’t just confess to Adrien, how could she ever expect Marc or Nathaniel to do the same? 

The Evillustrator incident could’ve been the catalyst to that conversation, but as far as Marinette could tell, Marc opted to tell only half the story, leaving Nathaniel completely unaware of the date they’d gone on. Well, maybe not completely unaware. He’d started acting strangely around Marc not long after, and while Marinette had no idea how much Nathaniel remembered from being akumatized, it wasn’t impossible that he knew about more than he let on. Alya had told Marinette about some of her hazy memories from the time she was Lady Wi-Fi, mostly based on when her emotions had been the strongest. And besides Evillustrator’s vitriolic hate for Chloé, his other strongest emotion had been his devotion to Marc. So there was a chance he knew. Not that Marinette ever planned to ask, as it was such a personal topic.

She’d been really hoping that Marc joining the art club would be a step in the right direction. Then maybe they could confess their feelings to one another through their artwork, as it would be less direct and more comfortable for both of them, but she should’ve guessed that Marc would get overwhelmed. She’d been friends with Marc for most of her life, after all. This wasn’t like when he helped distract Evillustrator, going on a date with an akuma for the greater good and safety of Paris. This was a lot more personal.

And now Marc was gone. It was like he’d never stopped by the art club in the first place.

Well, besides . . .

A small book lying on the ground caught Marinette’s eye. It was a journal bound with a black cover, and it looked exactly like the one Marc was always writing in. He must’ve dropped it when he ran into the pole. 

She’d have to bring it back to him. What else could she do, just leave it on the ground for anyone to find? Including Nathaniel? Or Chloé? The thought of Chloé reading Marc’s writing and bullying him over it was terrifying enough for Marinette to pick up the journal and slip it into her bag. That way, it was safe and sound. And Marc would probably rather her have it than anyone else, besides himself of course. He trusted her. Right?

When she re-entered Room 33, M. Monlataing asked, “Did Marc leave for the day?”

Marinette glanced over at Nathaniel, whose expression seemed somber. “Yeah, he did. I think he got a little overwhelmed. He doesn’t like being the center of attention much.”

“That’s a shame.” M. Monlataing said. “Hopefully he’ll come back sometime.”

Nathaniel nodded in silent agreement.

“I hope so too!” Marinette told them, keeping her tone light and cheerful. She didn’t want to seem too pessimistic about it in front of Nathaniel, even if she secretly worried that Marc would never want to join the art club again. Having Marc’s journal in her bag also weighed on her mind, prompting her to add, “Well, I should head home too. I’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

“Sounds good to me.”  M. Monlataing nodded. “See you tomorrow, Marinette.”

“Yeah, see you then!”

But Marinette didn’t go straight back to her house. Instead, she ducked into one of the school bathrooms, made a beeline for one of the stalls, and locked the door behind her. It was one of the few places in the school where she could guarantee privacy, and if she gave in to her impulsive thoughts this time, she’d need it.

Once inside the stall, Marinette took the journal out of her bag and placed it in her lap. She paused for a moment, her inner temptation at war with her better judgment. 

She now had two options. On one hand, Marc always tried to hide his writing and make sure that no one read it, even his closest friends. But what if she’d been mistaken? It looked like Marc’s journal, yes, but it was also a fairly generic design, so what if it didn’t belong to Marc? There really wasn’t a way to make sure it was actually Marc’s journal without reading it. What if it was someone else’s journal and she was accidentally stealing it? They’d be looking for it forever, and it’d be her fault. No, she had to read it, just to make sure.

Or at least, that’s what she tried to tell herself as she opened to a random page and began to read.

Another beautiful morning, another akuma attack. But this one was different for me than any others. 

This time, I went against my better instincts and moved towards the fight, hoping to get some more inspiration for my writing. The fight was a rematch with Reflekta, and half of Paris had been converted into clones of her already. I watched in awe as the three heroes struggled to find the real Reflekta amongst the hundreds of identical copies. 

I was hiding behind a car nearby, furiously scribbling notes into my notebook, but my excitement made me lose any awareness of what was going on around me. And before I knew it, the real Reflekta was standing above me, laughing maniacally. 

But just as she was about to use her powers, someone picked me up from above and began to fly away, tightly holding onto me. I didn’t fear falling; I was just in shock and trying to process what exactly was happening. And when I looked up to see who had saved me, I came face-to-face with Mightillustrator.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone concerned.

I blinked, words failing me as I fully processed the situation I’d found myself in. I was being saved by Mightillustrator himself? He was so cool and powerful, yet he went out of his way to save me? I must’ve been dreaming. But then why did it feel so real?

“Well,” His smile deepened. “You’re safe now.”

“T-thank you.” I stammered, feeling my cheeks go red.

The hero watched me, eyes understanding me in a way I’d never felt understood before. “Of course. Wouldn’t want a pretty boy like yourself to get hurt.”

“Marinette!” Tikki exclaimed. Marinette jumped, startled out of her imagination. “Why are you reading that? Isn’t that Marc’s private journal?”

“Yeah . . . it is. I mean, I think it is.” She hesitated, unsure of what to call it in the first place. If it was Marc’s journal, it was wrong of her to read it at all, but obviously, none of it actually happened. So it was just some writing? Well, Marc had said he might show Marinette his writing, so maybe it was okay, then? It had to be. “It’s probably just a short story.”

However, flipping to the next page, she found that it wasn’t just one short story, but a whole journal series. A whole journal series about herself—well, Ladybug—being a hero with some good version of Evillustrator. The lore was a bit confusing, but it seemed like Evillustrator had turned good after being de-akumatized, and then became a hero on his own called Mightillustrator, which was similar to the drawings Nathaniel had been working on lately. And all this was told from the perspective of some civilian that she could only assume was supposed to be a stand-in for Marc. And this civilian really liked Mightillustrator, who was an obvious stand-in for Nathaniel. It was like Marc had poured out his heart and soul into this journal, hidden behind characters and aliases.

“Aww, Marc.” Marinette mused, smiling to herself. “He likes him so much.”

But Tikki still had her qualms about reading Marc’s writing. “It doesn’t matter, Marinette. We should give that back to Marc as soon as we can.”

“I know, I know. But this is really good. Like, way too good to stay in a journal that no one else is supposed to read.”

Wait. This was perfect. Marc wrote the exact type of stories that Nathaniel would want to illustrate. If Marc was willing to share his writing with his friend, they could make something magical together. And if all went well, maybe they’d get closer while working, and that connection could maybe, just maybe, lead to Marc or Nathaniel finally admitting their feelings to the other. And if not, at the very least they’d be able to work together on something they both clearly wanted to create. It pained her to see the two of them dancing around each other, acting like speaking was suddenly wrong after the Evillustrator incident—just one night that she suspected Nathaniel didn’t even remember.

“You know what, Tikki? I have an idea.”

~

Finally having completed his last page of arithmetic homework, Marc leaned back in his chair for the first time in hours and took a deep breath. All the homework had been a welcome distraction from the overwhelming panic at how he’d behaved around Nathaniel earlier that day, but as Marc stood up and started getting ready for bed, his anxiety came rushing back, second-guessing everything.

Why did he even go to the art club in the first place? It’s not like he could work on his personal writing around Nathaniel, and he’d only embarrassed himself further. He couldn’t begin to guess how Nathaniel saw him now. Probably wasn’t too flattering, either way.

Before getting into bed, Marc checked his phone. He hadn’t dared to look in hours, and as expected, he had a dozen unread texts from Marinette, starting by asking where he’d gone and evolving into reassurance that he’d been fine and that Nathaniel and Alix were worried about him. That was sweet, but Marc wasn’t ready to respond yet, not with his thoughts in overdrive. He was about to turn his phone off again when a text from Nathaniel caught his eye. 

“Are you coming to art club again tomorrow? No pressure, but it was really fun to have you there today.”

Huh. So Nathaniel wasn’t weirded out by how Marc had acted earlier? Suddenly, going back to art club didn’t seem like the worst idea. Maybe, if Marc kept going every day and didn’t act strangely again, he might work up the nerve to ask about doing that comic book with Nathaniel. That could be fun, so long as Marc could get over his own emotional hurdles.

He texted back, “Sure! I’ll try to make it.”

Now that Marc felt better, he could go to bed without a racing mind and a pounding heart. But Nathaniel’s text had given him a wave of confidence in his writing, and he wanted to at least write a page or two before sleeping. Maybe he’d come up with another idea to work on, and then he’d have something to write during art club. And hey, if it was good enough, he could try and show it to Nathaniel. If he worked up the nerve, that is. After seeing Nathaniel’s artwork, it would be hard to write anything even close in quality.

He reached into his bag, then frowned when he couldn’t find his journal. It should’ve been right inside. He dumped the contents of his bag onto his bed, then combed through it, desperately looking between textbooks and inside of binders on the chance that it’d gotten stuck somewhere. But when he still couldn't find it, he had to accept the sinking feeling that he’d left it somewhere at school. 

At best, it was safe in his locker. At worst . . . he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

What if Nathaniel found it? Or worse, what if a homophobic person found it and clearly noticed the romantic undertones? Or what if Chloé found it? What if she started publicly making fun of it, inadvertently revealing Marc’s sexuality and secret crush to the world? What if Mme. Mendeliev found it? Or Mme. Bustier? What if he got in trouble for writing about a classmate? What if someone nice found it, but told Nathaniel about the contents because his name was in it and Marc’s wasn’t? And Nathaniel was none the wiser?

So much for sleeping that night.

~

First thing the next day, Marc made a beeline for his locker. If he could find his journal, he’d be able to relax and actually pay attention during class. If not . . . well, skipping school was always an option. Not the best option, but he wouldn’t be able to sit with his classmates and wonder if one of them had his journal in their possession.

He threw open the locker door and began to take his stuff out. Where was it? His journal wasn’t between his other textbooks, nor was it behind his backup sweatshirt, nor was it under his school binder . . .

“Are you looking for this?”

Marc nearly jumped at the sound of Marinette’s voice. He turned, and a wave of relief swept over him when he saw the journal in her hands. “Yes! Thank you!” He took the journal from her, but relief turned to panic when something occurred to him. “Did you read it?”

“Um . . .” Marinette grimaced. “Maybe?”

“Oh.” Marc’s shoulders slumped as he fully processed her response. Sure, she already knew he liked Nathaniel, but her knowing was different than her reading his inner thoughts put to story. Especially since he hadn’t wanted to show his writing to anyone. “ Ugh, it’s so embarrassing.”

“I’m so sorry! I just opened it to make sure it was yours since the cover didn’t say anything . . . anyway, I saw some of your writing, and I couldn’t help it . . .” Marinette explained quickly. “But I didn’t read all of it! Just the first story, and it was really good! You should show it to Nathaniel.”

“There’s only a few stories.” Marc mumbled, unsure of what else to say. “And none of them are really done.”

No way he could show Nathaniel. Those stories weren’t meant for anyone’s eyes, but especially not Nathaniel’s. Wasn’t it painfully obvious how pathetic the stories were? Marinette knew the type of art that Nathaniel always made: stories about himself being the hero that got a pretty girlfriend. This? This was different. Marc’s stories were messes of self-insertion and a romance that was never in the works, certainly not for someone like him. In his stories, Mightillustrator loved an awkward gay writer like Marc, found the embarrassment endearing and chose him from anyone else in the city. In real life, the idea of someone handsome and talented like Nathaniel choosing Marc of all people was laughable.

Undeterred, Marinette exclaimed, “That’s okay! I’m sure he’ll love them.”

“Um, I don’t know . . . I guess I didn’t really want to show them to anyone . Definitely not Nathaniel. It’s kind of . . . personal.”

“But then you could confess to him without having to say anything!”

“ Yeah, but . . . I don’t want him to know yet. Or ever.” Marc sighed. “I guess . . . I guess I wouldn’t mind working on that comic book with him. Like he was talking about during art club?” Marinette perked up, but Marc cut her off before she could say anything. “But . . . did you see the drawing he did? My writing will never be good enough for his art, and besides, I can’t show this to him.” He motioned to his journal.

“Are you kidding? Your writing is amazing! And I’m sure he’ll agree! You’re his friend, Marc.”

“That’s the problem. He’s so serious about his art and the projects he works on, and if he says he’ll work on a comic book with me while secretly thinking my writing is terrible . . . that just isn’t fair to him. And I don’t want him to pity me or anything.” At Marinette’s slightly shocked expression, a pang of guilt hit Marc’s heart. He hadn’t meant to spill all of his anxieties onto his friend, but she just kept asking.

Marinette paused for a moment, considering this. “What if he read it without knowing you wrote it? Then it’s a win-win! If he likes it, you could work on the comic book with him and maybe even confess how you feel? And if he hates it, you could just say nothing! He’d never find out you wrote it.”

While Marc’s first instinct was to scrap the idea entirely, Marinette’s plan made a bit of sense. That way, they could see how Nathaniel felt about his writing before actually asking. And if Nathaniel didn’t like it, it wouldn’t affect their friendship at all. But there was one big problem.

“I just don’t think he’ll like it, Marinette.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just . . .” Marc hesitated, thinking over his words carefully before speaking. “You know, he doesn’t usually write stories like this . Stories with . . . people like me.”

“People like . . . ?” She paused, watching Marc’s face closely. He couldn’t figure out the expression he was making, inadvertently making him feel self-conscious. Then she quickly nodded, almost solemnly. “Oh, you mean about two boys?”

“Yeah. He likes to write about girls .” Marc cringed at the bitterness he could hear in his own voice. He truly respected and understood Nathaniel’s bisexuality, and he didn’t want anyone to think that he didn’t. Of course Nathaniel was into girls, not only boys. In fact, judging based on what Marc knew about his friend, Nathaniel probably leaned more towards girls. And it probably would make sense that Nathaniel would want to focus more on girls after he was outed as bisexual not that long ago. No, Marc understood all of that perfectly fine. It was more that he wanted the stories in Nathaniel’s head to feature him, not any fictional girl, as Nathaniel’s ideas tended to.

A fictional girl . . .

That was it. Marc could remove all references to the story being about two boys, which weren’t many, considering that Marc wrote in first person. Then maybe it’d be good enough to be amongst the rest of Nathaniel’s portfolio. Marc would have to just change the last line to being about a girl, and Nathaniel maybe—just maybe—would want to work with Marc on further stories. And then it wouldn’t be a total embarrassment for him. Also, if Nathaniel caught onto any of the romantic subtext Marc had written, he wouldn’t be able to trace it to Marc’s feelings right away, and if they would eventually reveal who wrote it, Marc could just deny any of Nathaniel’s suspicions.

“Wait. That . . . could actually work. I just need to make an edit.”

Marinette’s face lit up. “Awesome! Let’s do it, then!”

“You’re sure . . .” Marc hesitated. “You’re sure he’ll like it?”

“Absolutely! And he’ll be so excited to work with you. He talks about you so much, you know? And he’s looking for a scriptwriter now anyway, so I’m sure he’d love for it to be his best friend . . .”

As Marinette kept rambling about how well everything would come together, Marc glanced across the courtyard. Nathaniel was standing next to Alix by the stairs, fiddling with his pencil and grinning while Alix was apparently telling him a story. He’d always complained about how socially awkward he was, but from Marc’s perspective, he looked completely cool and confident. And so, so far out of Marc’s league. 

Even after the Evillustrator situation, Marc couldn’t trust himself to let his feelings show at all to his friend. He’d gotten false hope when Nathaniel was akumatized, and once again when they’d come out to each other. But since then, Nathaniel had shown no signs of anything reciprocal, confirming Marc’s belief that all of Evillustrator’s emotions had been just that: the emotions of an akuma that had nothing to do with Nathaniel’s true feelings. So now, the possibility of being his friend’s scriptwriter was probably the furthest they would ever progress in their relationship. That was fine, as long as Nathaniel genuinely wanted him to do the writing and it wasn’t a vote of pity.

Marc just hoped he wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

~

“Good morning!”

Nathaniel glanced up from his sketchbook to see Marinette standing over his desk, a cheery expression on her face. Way more awake than he was. Alix hadn’t brought him coffee today, so he was starting to fall asleep in his chair. Blinking, he closed his sketchbook and rested his head on his hand. “Hey, Marinette. What’s up?”

“Well . . .” She smiled mischievously. “I have a present for you. You know how you’ve been posting some of your art on the school website?”

“Yeah?”

“It looks like you have a fan!” Marinette placed a small book that looked like a hardcover journal on the desk in front of him. “I was, uh, given this by someone who really likes your work and decided to write some fanfiction about it! And I know you’re looking for someone to make a comic book with, so I figured you could see if this is the kind of writing you’re looking for!”

“I mean, it was just an idea . . .” Nathaniel muttered, running a finger along the edge of the journal. He was immediately curious about the fact that it was written by hand, not on a computer. How had she gotten ahold of it? It must’ve been from someone who lived close, maybe even went to their school. In fact, it looked a little familiar . . . did one of his friends have a journal like that?

Wait.

That was it. 

He knew who the author was.

Did people really think that he was this oblivious? Sure, he could be spacey and forgetful and tended to jump to conclusions, but he wasn’t always doing that. And he did pay attention to details around him . . . at least, the ones relevant enough for him to notice. And, to be fair, details weren’t often that relevant to him. He could practically hear his mother’s voice, “Ugh, Nathaniel! We really need to get you tested for ADHD one of these days. How did you not see my architectural proofs on the table? Did you have to put your dirty paint water there?”  

Marinette continued, oblivious to Nathaniel’s epiphany and self-reckoning. “Sure, but if you like it enough, maybe you’d want to work together. And who knows? You could even get it published! I definitely think you’re talented enough to make it happen.”

“Uh . . . okay.” Nathaniel nodded, not fully aware of what she was saying. Instead, he was far more focused on the fact that he’d seen the exact same journal in Marc’s hands too many times to count. 

Marc had written this. He must’ve.

And in that case, Marinette having it would make sense. They were best friends, after all.

Now Nathaniel could hardly contain his excitement. Marc never let him read his writing due to it being personal, and Nathaniel respected that. But if Marc had willingly asked Marinette to give it to him, then it meant Marc was ready to share it. And it made sense that Marc wanted to keep his identity secret for now, as he was often anxious about what others thought of him. Especially as Nathaniel remembered the way Marc shook like a leaf when coming out, even though Nathaniel had come out first and it was never an issue.

“. . . so yeah! Just let me know what you think, okay?” Marinette looked at Nathaniel expectantly. 

What had she said while he was lost in his own thoughts? He really had to stop zoning out like that and focus on what people were saying to him. Maybe his mom was right about the ADHD. Rather than ask, he just smiled and said, “Sure, I can do that.” And that seemed to be the right answer, as she just grinned back at him and walked over to her desk. 

Class was starting, so Nathaniel wasn’t able to read Marc’s writing at that moment. He couldn’t risk his language arts grades being as bad as his science ones. But he was counting down the minutes until lunchtime, where he would finally get a look into Marc’s thoughts and ideas. 

For as long as he could remember, Nathaniel had wanted to know more about his friend, who always seemed to be hiding something. Or at least, acted closed-off sometimes. And Nathaniel was patient, understanding that Marc was socially anxious and would open up more as he got comfortable. But as M. Monlataing said, self-expression was a huge part of creating art, and writing was no exception. What would he learn about Marc just from what he’d written? Was this him finally deciding to open up?

Nathaniel could hardly wait.

~

“He hates it, I know he hates it.” Marc whispered furiously. He watched Nathaniel, who was sitting on the courtyard stairs, casually flipping through the pages of the journal. It was lunchtime, and Marc and Marinette were ducked down behind the other stairs, peering through the bars and waiting to see how Nathaniel was going to react to Marc’s writing. “He’s going to think it’s terrible and decide he never wants to work with whoever wrote it—”

“And so what if he does?” Marinette asked. “Then we just won’t say anything.”

“What if he reads my writing in the future? And then realizes that I’m the one who wrote the journal? Or what if he recognizes my handwriting and guesses on his own that I wrote it? And what if he isn’t honest and just says he likes it because he knows it’s me?”

Marinette turned towards Marc with a small smile. “And what if he likes it? What if he likes you? ”

“Then either he’s akumatized or I’m dreaming.” Marc muttered.

Why were they even watching Nathaniel read it? Yet again, it was Marinette’s idea, and she somehow convinced him that it was a good one. Which it wasn’t. It’s not like Nathaniel was a very expressive person when reading, and other than a raised eyebrow once in a while, he hadn’t reacted at all. And this lack of response, despite being completely normal for Nathaniel, led Marc to go down the various “what-if” paths. 

“And what if he wants to talk about it with me? I think I’ll die just waiting to see what he says.”

Marinette shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. Nathaniel’s not that scary to talk to.”

“You know I can’t talk to him the way you can. Because I like him.”

A voice spoke up from behind the two of them: “It’s rude to spy on people.” 

Marc jumped, then relaxed upon seeing Adrien standing there with an amused smile on his face. But Marinette’s reaction was the complete opposite, Adrien’s presence causing her to panic even more, face frozen in a strange expression.

“Uh, hi Adrien!” Marinette exclaimed. “What are you doing here? I mean, what are you doing here , not school in general. I know we go to the same school, so duh, of course you’re here, but why are you here? Not that I don’t want to see you! Of course I do! But not like I was waiting for you or anything . . .”

Marc glanced back at Nathaniel. Thankfully, he tended to get lost in his own internal world, not taking any notice of the commotion happening across the courtyard. Nathaniel was reading voraciously, deep aqua eyes locked into the book, his shoulder-length red hair swaying in the wind. He was absolutely stunning. Why would he ever like Marc, of all people?

“. . . anyway, we weren’t really spying, per se. Marc and I wanted to, um, plan a surprise birthday party for Nathaniel. Yeah, that’s it! His birthday is coming soon, and I wanted to be ready for it! And Marc’s his friend, so he just wanted to help out.”

Marc forced a smile, desperately trying not to cringe at Marinette’s excuse.

Adrien tilted his head. “Didn’t Nathaniel just have a birthday?”

“Well, it’s never too early to be ready for next year!” Marinette quickly corrected herself. “I mean, his birthday this year wasn’t great, so we wanted to make next year perfect! Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just walking by. It’s nice how much you care about doing things for others, Marinette! Let me know if I can do anything to help!” 

“Sure won’t!” Marinette exclaimed. “Uh, I mean, sure will!”

Adrien didn’t say anything about her awkward response, opting instead to just smile before continuing across the courtyard, fortunately not disturbing Nathaniel while doing so. As soon as he was gone, Marc cast a pointed look towards Marinette, who was now very red in the face. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right, it’s not easy to talk to boys you like.” Marinette held up her hands, as if in surrender. “Just, uh, do as I say, not as I do. Then you should be fine! Alright?”

Marc glanced back towards Nathaniel one last time. “I’ll do my best.”

~

Nathaniel flicked his eyes upwards, watching Marc and Marinette walk away, both of their body language jerky and awkward. He’d seen Marinette stammer in front of Adrien—man, Nathaniel hoped he’d never been that awkward around her or Marc—but Marc just seemed to be in a state of perpetual anxiety when he was around Nathaniel now, and Nathaniel hated it. Was it because of something Evillustrator had done? Nathaniel didn’t want to even consider what he could’ve done, all he knew is that he didn’t hurt Marc, which Marc had told him. But what if Marc had lied? What if he’d done something terrible? What if he’d scared Marc away?

No. That wasn’t the priority at the moment. The story was.

Nathaniel almost didn’t want Marc to be in the same room while reading his work for fear that he’d say something he’d regret. He could picture himself pouncing on Marc, demanding to know if Marc was truly the author, if this was all based on Nathaniel’s drawings, if Marc wanted to create something beautiful together. But he was at the end of the story, the best part, and he wanted to see the conclusion.

So he kept reading…

And when I looked up to see who had saved me, I came face-to-face with Mightillustrator.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone concerned.

I blinked, words failing me as I fully processed the situation I’d found myself in. I was being saved by Mightillustrator himself? He was so cool and powerful, yet he went out of his way to save me? I must’ve been dreaming. But then why did it feel so real?

“Well,” His smile deepened. “You’re safe now.”

“T-thank you.” I stammered, feeling my cheeks go red.

The hero watched me, eyes understanding me in a way I’d never felt understood before. “Of course. Wouldn’t want a pretty girl like yourself to get hurt.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“Girl” . . . written on top of gray eraser smears.

Marc hadn’t fooled anyone with his attempt at self-censorship, no matter how hard he tried. The eraser marks from one of those terrible pencil erasers circled around the word “girl”, revealing that there was previously another word underneath, were incredibly clear. This was a love story, and not one between a hero and a damsel in distress. Did Marc think he’d hidden it well? Nathaniel almost wanted to laugh, seeing how obvious it seemed. 

This was it. This was confirmation of what he’d been thinking about for weeks, expecting the worst and wishing for the best. 

He’d known he hadn’t missed the way Marc had been looking at him the past few weeks. There was something there, something that had changed since the Evillustrator incident that he couldn’t place. And this journal, with its poor attempt of self-censoring, was all the proof he needed.

He couldn’t contain his joy any longer. “Marinette!”

Marc was gone, thank goodness, but Marinette was lingering by her locker. She turned just as Nathaniel, all smiles for once, ran up to her. He clutched the journal to his chest, a light in his eyes that she probably hadn’t seen quite so bright in a very long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so full of life, like the world around him was brighter, like life was making him stronger instead of dragging him down. And it seemed clear to Marinette as well, who gave an amused smile as she asked, “What? Are you done reading it?”

“Yes! Is it who I think it is?”

“I can’t say too much now!” Marinette took a step backwards. “But what I will say is that the author wants to talk about being partners.”

“Partners?” Nathaniel repeated. Even though he heard her just fine, he couldn’t even begin to believe that this was real, that this was actually happening. 

That Marc actually wanted to go out with him. 

Chapter Text

Marc sat on the edge of one of the park fountains in Place de Vosges, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie and attempting to appear calm and collected despite the million fears running through his mind. Nathaniel would be here at any moment. Whatever happened next was yet to be determined. Would they be working on a comic book together by the end of the day? Would Nathaniel end up hating him?

No, he wouldn’t. Nathaniel was his friend.

And Marc trusted Marinette. She was his friend too.

Now he just had to learn to trust himself.

He glanced over at La Maison de Victor Hugo with the usual line of tourists interested in seeing the famous writer’s home. Marc wished he could be like Victor Hugo, a writer who was so brave in his work that he was willing to pay the price of insulting royalty. He was so confident in the topics he chose to write about that he chose to spend pages upon pages in Le Miserables describing the sewers. But Marc? Comparatively, Marc felt like a fake writer, an imposter. He was so pathetic and embarrassed that he couldn’t even let his friend read his work as-is. He’d nearly had an anxiety attack over the idea of Marinette or Nathaniel reading anything he wrote. Which just affirmed what Marc had always thought: he wasn’t cut out to be a comic book writer. He just wasn’t.

“Marc?”

Turning at the sound of his name, Marc met Nathaniel’s eyes. He knew his friend well, and even with Nathaniel’s perpetual expression of annoyance, he rarely—if ever—looked at his friends that way. Especially not Marc or Alix. But now, Marc was facing that expression along with a small hint of something else . . . surprise? Excitement? His face was flushed. Was he blushing? Marc’s heart began to race.

“Uh, yeah. It’s me. Hi.” Marc waved half-heartedly.

At his words, Nathaniel walked towards the fountain and took a seat next to Marc, bringing with him a sense of anticipation. “I have something to ask you.” He smiled warmly, and Marc only wished he could mirror him.

“And—” Marc spoke up, swallowing the tension that had built up in his throat. “I have something to ask you too.”

“I know, Marinette told me.” Nathaniel’s voice wasn’t as monotone as before. That small spot of hope is what Marc clung onto, wishing for the best and desperately ignoring the worst. “You first. What did you want to ask?”

This was it, now or never. Marc glanced over at his friend, trying to maintain eye contact even though he was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as time passed. “Um, so I know we’ve been friends for a long time, and I was thinking we could do something more. Like, as partners?”

“Yeah?” Nathaniel asked, his eyes alight. “Partners?”

 “Yeah. I—uh . . . well, I wrote the journal. The one Marinette gave you.” Taking a deep breath, Marc readied himself for the big question. “And I was wondering if you—I mean . . . did you want to make a comic book together?”

Marc had hoped for further excitement, but he’d also expected confusion or even pity. Yet he never would’ve prepared for Nathaniel to completely freeze, his face a mask of something unidentifiable. Something different than before. Something that gave Marc a chill that wouldn’t go away. The hairs prickled at the back of his neck.

Nathaniel glanced down at the journal he was still clutching in one hand. “You wrote this?”

Marc nodded wordlessly.

Something changed in Nathaniel’s face then. It was hard to decipher; he was too subtle.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

His voice was hollow.

Marc wanted nothing more than to disappear right then and there. It was confirmed: Nathaniel didn’t want to work with him after all, and Marinette had been painfully wrong. Or did Nathaniel realize how romantic the story sounded and was now disgusted, even hidden behind Marc’s own self-censorship? Or did he remember more from the Evillustrator incident than he let on and was horrified by Marc’s reciprocity to the akuma’s feelings? This had gone all wrong, and there was nothing that could make it right.

“Um . . . yes?”

“But it was . . .” Nathaniel hesitated, fidgeting with his sleeve. “It was very romantic, and I just thought that you might be feeling—was it a joke?”

“Why do you always read into everything?”

Marc hadn’t meant to get upset. He certainly hadn’t meant to get harsh with Nathaniel, of all people. But something about Nathaniel’s deadpan tone and the way he didn’t seem to know what to do with Marc’s feelings was the last straw. Marc had been waiting, nearly salivating, for the prospect of his love story to begin. But this wasn’t it. This was about to be a rejection.

Nathaniel stepped back as if he’d been slapped. “Marc—”

“Not everything has to have a deeper meaning. Maybe I just wanted to write the type of story that you’d like, you know?” Marc steeled his shoulders, even as he knew every word coming out of his mouth wasn’t kind, it was cruel. Nathaniel wasn’t at fault for seeing the truth. Marc knew he was trying to hurt Nathaniel before Nathaniel hurt him first with a harsh rejection. “A joke? Are you serious?”

“Then what was I supposed to think when you—you changed the words?”

Nathaniel stood up and glanced up toward the left. Only now did Marc notice that Marinette was on her balcony, holding her phone sideways. Was she filming them? The thought sent Marc’s thoughts spiraling even more than they already were. It was one thing that she read his journal, but this felt like another level of violation. And judging by Nathaniel’s face, he hadn’t known about it either. They’d been set up, maybe with the misunderstanding in mind.

“Whatever.” Nathaniel’s voice caused Marc to turn back to him, only to be taken aback by the anger in his friend’s eyes. He rarely looked this angry, only when he’d been hurt by Chloé in the past. Marc half wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he wasn’t sure if Nathaniel was mad at him or not. Marc didn’t know if he was mad at Nathaniel either. He couldn’t figure out anything, making his instinctive reaction to do something—anything—that much more pressuring. 

But before Marc could act, Nathaniel hurled the journal on the ground.

It happened too fast to fully process. All Marc remembered was seeing his friend—the person he loved—throw his most precious possession . . . then the journal lying next to Nathaniel’s feet. The cover of the journal hung open at a crooked angle, clearly broken. Pages had ripped from their binding and settled softly in the dirt. Marc froze, his lips parted in a silent gasp. 

Nobody moved. Nobody dared to make a sound. 

All of a sudden, Nathaniel’s head snapped up like he’d been shot, his expression a mixture of fear and anger. Like he understood what he did. And in less than a minute, he was walking away and out of the park, leaving Marc still frozen in shock and horror.

Finally able to break from his trance, Marc sank to his knees in front of the journal. It was completely ruined. All of his hard work was now strewn mindlessly around the base of the fountain, some of the pages covered in dirt and smears. 

But the damage paled in comparison to the destruction of his relationship with Nathaniel. 

It was over. It was all over. 

Nathaniel hated him. There was no other conclusion he could come to.What had Marc done that could’ve caused such an angry response? Was it the romantic aspects of the story, the fact that Nathaniel had seen through Marc’s self-censoring? Did Nathaniel think they’d gotten too close and thought it was weird? Was he just mad he’d gotten tricked into meeting Marc at the park instead of some unknown writer? There were a million other reasons he could come up with, but he had no way of knowing which was Nathaniel’s. All he knew for certain is that Nathaniel must’ve completely hated him. 

Marc closed his eyes, causing a couple tears to run down his cheeks.

He was too greedy. He should’ve just stuck to being friends with Nathaniel and not even tried to become something more, not even a scriptwriter. There were plenty of other cute, nice boys that he could’ve asked out, and maybe he’d eventually find someone who would say yes. Someone on his level, someone he didn’t have to look up to. But no, he had to keep hoping that Nathaniel, who saw him as nothing more than a friend, would like him too. All because of Evillustrator’s random crush. How stupid was that? Hoping that his feelings would be reciprocated with the only proof being an akuma’s actions? He wasn’t anything special to Nathaniel, he was just Nathaniel’s pathetic gay friend who had a 

Marc should’ve let it go right away, but no, he’d chosen to hurt himself further. 

And now he lost the friendship he treasured so much.

~

Anger quickly changed to regret as Nathaniel walked away from the park. He bit his lip, struggling to pinpoint his thoughts in the midst of his turbulent emotions. Still, one phrase kept replaying in his head: “Why did I do that?”

Marc hadn’t done anything wrong . . .

Well, Marc had been harsh. But Nathaniel shouldn’t have pressed him for answers about the censoring or the romantic undertones. How did he not realize that it would freak Marc out? Of course it would. Nathaniel would’ve hated to be put on the spot like that, and his anxiety wasn’t anything like Marc’s.

He sighed and turned around.

Time to go back and make things right.

~

Through his tears, Marc caught sight of a dark shape, one moving towards his hands and the journal. He blinked, only to see the akuma butterfly a moment too late. He didn’t have time to react before it flew into his journal and disappeared.

“Reverser.”

Marc understood. That was him —his new name, his new identity.

“I sympathize with you, as sometimes nothing hurts more than love. Your devotion to the one you love led you to keep yourself safe from his wrath, yet he turned it on you despite your best efforts. And now, I’m giving you the power to make others act unlike themselves. With your authorial intent and creativity, the world can become however you desire. Any behavior, any trait, any belief, anything at all can be reversed to fit your narrative.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Even the rejection of your love. ” the voice added. “All I ask in return is for you to bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses. A low price for the power to achieve everything you’ve ever wished for.”

A small smile crept onto Marc’s face. “Perfect. It’s a deal, then.”

He stood up, the journal still clutched tightly in his hand. His tears had dried, with his grief now replaced by a mixture of anger and triumph. Nathaniel would regret leading him on and mocking his feelings, Marinette would regret setting him up for disappointment, and anyone that tried to stop him would regret standing in his way. 

Marc tossed the journal forward. Before it hit the ground once again, it morphed, transforming into a larger object that floated in the air. In his mind he knew this was his form of transportation. Before the purple smoke cleared, he leapt onto the top of the newly-created hoverboard. He closed his eyes as he began to transform as well, picturing the changes he planned to make as the world around him faded to nothingness.

~

Nathaniel turned the corner into the park, mentally rehearsing what he’d say to Marc. Even then, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever make it up to him, not after reacting so strongly to what was just a small misunderstanding on his part. No, not even a misunderstanding. An assumption. Why did he just expect Marc to ask him out without any details? Maybe it truly was just a story and Marc was defensive over his own creative freedom. Maybe he’d been reading much too deep into it, like Marc said. That’s what Nathaniel always did: look too deep, make a big deal out of nothing, search for hidden messages where none were present.

His mom would agree.

Nathaniel felt sick over his actions. This wasn’t like him to get so angry so easily, and at someone he cared about like Marc. How could he apologize when he’d been so—?

He looked up. And his heart plummeted in his chest.

Nathaniel hadn’t been optimistic about the situation. He’d half expected to see Marc there, still upset and possibly too angry to talk to him. He’d also half expected for Marc to be gone by that point, maybe back at his apartment, telling his mamá about how Nathaniel hurt his feelings. That could be handled.

But Nathaniel hadn’t expected to see an akuma.

And that wasn’t the worst part. Even with the akuma’s black and white, half-and-half appearance, Nathaniel could recognize his face. Of course he could. He’d drawn that exact person again and again . . . not in stark black and white, but with soft raven hair and brilliant green eyes. 

“Marc?”

The akuma stiffened, duotone eyes flicking up to meet Nathaniel’s. “There you are.”

His voice was deep, several octaves lower than Marc’s, but there was something else strange about it . . . like two different voices layered on top of one another, creating a slight reverb. Menacing and powerful. Like he could easily crush Nathaniel if he wanted.

Nathaniel took an instinctive step backwards. “M-Marc, I’m s—”

“I’m not Marc anymore.” The akuma glared, teeth grit together. “I’m Reverser.”

“R-Right. Uh, R-Reverser, I’m so sor—”

“Save it.” Reverser stared right at him, his black-and-white eyes boring straight into Nathaniel’s soul. His half-and-half lips pursed into a menacing grimace. “You hurt me. And now . . . you’re mine.”

~

Marinette tore down her bedroom stairs, then the hallway stairs, hardly able to catch her breath. She ran through the main part of the bakery, only giving her parents a halfhearted wave as she passed them. And then she was outside, the sunlight too bright and too cheerful for the massive problem she’d just created. Place de Vosges wasn’t too far away now . . .

Finally. She’d made it, but not soon enough. Nathaniel had returned, now standing frozen in fear with wide eyes and shaking hands at the sight of Marc’s akumatized form, who was standing on a hoverboard shaped like a paper airplane. Every detail of his outfit was half-black and half-white, from his duo-toned hair down to his heeled boots planted firmly on his hoverboard. He had become almost unrecognizable as her friend who loved bright colors and rainbows, dressed in all black and white with skin and shaggy hair to match. Neither of them had noticed her presence, or at least, not yet.

“You think you can just crush my heart like that?” the akuma demanded, his voice far too deep to resemble Marc any longer. The look in his eyes was far beyond anger, almost at the level of pure hatred. “Then I’ll have no choice.”

“Nathaniel, run!”

Both boys turned to look at Marinette, Nathaniel in fright and the akuma cold and calculating. She could hear her heartbeat, louder than anything else at the moment, but she ignored it, motioning again for Nathaniel to get out of there. That seemed to snap him out of the shock. He took off down the path and out of the park, then out of sight. 

The akuma moved to follow him.

“Wait! Marc!” Marinette exclaimed. Even though she had no idea what his powers were, she couldn’t just let him go after Nathaniel. So she had to keep him here, at least long enough for Nathaniel to get away. And sure enough, the akuma stopped to face her, his eyes sharp and cold, one pitch black and one stark white. “What happened?”

“I’m not Marc. I’m Reverser!” he announced, forming a small black and white paper plane in his outstretched hand. “And you, Marinette! You think you’re the nicest person in the world, even when you ignore your friends’ boundaries and use your friends to get what you want?” He shook his head. “No more of that. ”

Marinette’s heart plummeted. Even though he was an akumatized villain and she should’ve taken everything he said with a grain of salt, his words still rang a little too close to home. “Marc, I’m so sorry I read your journal—”

“You don’t like to listen to people, do you? I told you, my name isn’t Marc anymore, it’s Reverser! ” he snapped. “And I’m not letting you hide from the consequences any longer! From carelessness to karma, reversion!”

“But I didn’t make any of this happen!”

She dropped to the ground just in time to avoid the paper airplane he’d hurtled at her. 

Behind her, the paper plane hit M. Ramier, disappearing into his arm. Immediately, the pigeons gathered around him flew away, perching atop the roof of La Maison de Victor Hugo and peering down at him, as if in distrust, cooing warnings to each other. M. Ramier collapsed to the ground, devastated.

Marinette stared in horror. She couldn’t begin to imagine what that could do to her . . .

“Liar!” Reverser cried. “You lied to Nathaniel and you lied to me! ”

He continued throwing airplane after airplane towards her, and she dodged each one, trying to carefully move towards the exit of the park, but Reverser was nothing if not persistent. Since when did Marc have such good aim? His gaze was cutting as he watched her every move, following her as if he knew every action she would take.

And then, out of nowhere, Reverser stopped entirely and looked above Marinette’s head. Her blood ran cold. Was Nathaniel back? She couldn’t protect him if she couldn’t transform, and she couldn’t do that if Reverser was targeting her. She turned to see what had caught Reverser’s attention, but there was nothing there.

And then something soft hit her shoulder.

She glanced back just in time to see the paper airplane seemingly disappear into her arm. Reverser was watching her now, his expression smug, and it was only then she realized that he’d tricked her into turning around. She didn’t really feel any different, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the plane hadn’t done anything. What had he said about karma? 

“Hey!” 

Both Marinette and Reverser turned to look for the source of the voice, which turned out to be Officer Roger. He frowned, holding a clipboard with some papers on it.

“What’s all this about?” Officer Roger motioned to Reverser’s hoverboard. “You know you can’t park that here.”

“What?” Reverser asked, both his expression and tone incredulous.

Officer Roger raised an eyebrow, then turned back to his clipboard of papers, shaking his head in disappointment. “No unauthorized vehicles allowed in the park. In accordance with city policy, you have to either register your vehicle or remove it from the premises.”

It then hit Marinette. This was the perfect chance to get away! 

While Reverser’s attention was on Officer Roger, she snuck towards a nearby building and once she was out of sight, hid behind the wall. Finally, a chance to catch her breath, though she made sure to keep watching and listening for a clue of where Reverser planned to go next. For once, Officer Roger’s arrival had been genuinely helpful. 

“You’re all about law and order?” Reverser asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well, we’re all done with that . From amicable to anarchy, reversion! ”

Marinette watched in horror as the paper plane disappeared into Officer Roger’s arm. The reversion took effect right away, causing him to drop his clipboard and ignore the papers scattering across the ground. “You know what, do whatever you want with that paper plane thing. I’ve got other plans!” He laughed. “See you ‘round, kid!” 

And with that, Officer Roger took off down the street. 

“Never liked the police much anyway.” Reverser scoffed, a dark smile starting to form on his lips. He glanced at the spot where Marinette had been just a moment ago and froze. “ Marinette!”

Her breath caught. Was she too visible?

Silence filled the park as Reverser presumably looked for Marinette—not that she could see, as she had completely hidden herself behind the wall. Every second that passed seemed to last an eternity while she waited for him to leave, unable to transform into Ladybug out of fear that he might overhear. Finally, a swishing sound echoed throughout the area, which seemed to be the hoverboard moving through the air. A quick glance confirmed her suspicions: Reverser was flying away from the park.

“I’ll find you, Marinette!” he called behind him. “Right after I find Nathaniel!”

She finally let out the breath she’d been holding. On one hand, Reverser looking for Nathaniel bought her some time to figure him out before he started going after her again. On the other hand, she’d now have to find Nathaniel first. And that could be exceptionally difficult, as judging by the way he’d glared up at her while she was filming, Nathaniel didn’t seem too happy with her either.

Maybe she shouldn’t have filmed them at all . . .

“Marinette!” Tikki exclaimed, peeking out of her purse. “He’s getting further away!”

Right. Focus. 

Reverser was the most important threat at the moment. She could deal with everything else later, after Marc was de-akumatized.

“I know, but I can’t just chase him! He travels too fast on that hoverboard, and I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Better to ambush him if I can.” And Marinette had an idea of how to do that. She pulled out her phone and called her best friend, who picked up right away as she tended to. “Alya! Did you hear about the akumatized villain?”

“Sure did. I’m hot on his trail right now!”

“Awesome! I mean, where is he? So I can avoid going there on my way home?” It was a pretty bad lie, but she was in a hurry, and it was all she could think to say.

“Uh sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

“What? How come?”

“And risk you sharing that information with other news sources? No way, girl! Sorry, I just don’t think I can trust you with that, not when I’m trying to get the scoop for the Ladyblog. I mean, you read Marc’s journal without his permission! You understand, right?”

“Um, yeah. Sure. Thanks anyway, Alya.”

Marinette hung up, but didn’t move for a moment, her thoughts racing. There was no way Alya knew about her reading Marc’s journal, so this could only be the effect of Reverser’s paper airplane, and in that case, it wasn’t really Marinette’s fault, right? But something about Alya’s words kept bothering her. 

“I guess you’re right, Tikki. We should just—go. Yeah.” She nodded to herself, trying to clear away any stray thoughts. Again, she could worry about that later, but right now, the akuma was the priority. “Tikki, spots on!”

And as soon as she transformed into Ladybug, she took off in the direction Reverser had gone.

~

Nathaniel had gotten away, but not for long.

Reverser scanned the quickly-emptying streets with just a glance. His former friend likely wasn’t hiding amongst crowds of tourists, but if he was, it wouldn’t be hard to spot him. However long it took, however many people got in the way, Reverser would find him.

How could he have been so stupid? It wasn’t Nathaniel that loved him, it was just Evillustrator. It was pathetic to seek validation from someone who didn’t feel anything for him other than pure platonic interest, someone who was willing to hurt him and walk off without a second thought. If only it could’ve been Evillustrator—

“Do you want to bring him back?”

Reverser grimaced, eyes narrowing at the sound of Hawkmoth’s voice. There was no need for him to be meddling yet, especially at such an early step in Reverser’s extensive plan.  “I’ve got it under control, thank you.”

“Do you?” Hawkmoth sounded almost amused at this declaration. “Interesting. You’re far more insolent than your little boyfriend. Did you know that he was willing to do anything to keep you safe from me? That boy did as I ordered, no matter how awful, with his sole desire to protect you.”

A lie. At least, Reverser wanted to believe it was. Some sort of manipulation, maybe.

“It’s no lie. And you can single handedly return the Evillustrator and his love for you. I have given you the power to reverse anything. What if I delivered to you the power to revert those around you to their akuma forms? Even with no akuma of their own?”

So this was his game. Hawkmoth wanted Reverser to do the dirty work, then guide him to bring back Evillustrator and any number of other akumas as a last resort. Even if this was possible, they would have no actual akuma tether to Hawkmoth, likely rendering them somewhat mindless. With no akuma, it wouldn’t be Evillustrator, not truly, just a facsimile of him using Nathaniel’s body as a puppet. Hawkmoth must’ve thought that Reverser would’ve been easy to manipulate, otherwise he wouldn’t have proposed this offer.

Unless . . .

No, it was a trick. It had to be.

“You just want Evillustrator to work for you. In case I fail. And I assure you, I will not fail.”

“Have it your way, then. Remain in a world where no one truly sees you and the love you have to give. But listen to me, boy. I live in a world of much the same, and I would be willing to cause the end of the Earth to restore my love. You have nothing and no one. What would you do to be loved?”

“I’ll find Nathaniel.” Reverser snapped. He hated the way his voice caught in his throat. “And I’ll punish him for what he’s done, then force him to love me. I’ll make him treat me as you claim that Evillustrator once did.”

“Very well. Do not forget your end of the bargain.”

And as Hawkmoth’s voice disappeared, making Reverser highly aware of the approaching superhero behind him, he grinned. No, he wouldn’t forget his side of the bargain. He’d do it all at once, with the first step starting now.

It was showtime.

~

There he was. 

Reverser glided through the city, seemingly unaware of Ladybug creeping up behind him, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with nothing more than a thump each time she landed. His head turned slightly as he searched, presumably, for Nathaniel and Marinette. From the back, only a few strands of his black-and-white bangs could be seen, lazily picked up by the wind. He was unarmed, unguarded. This could be quick—

Reverser whipped around, the paper plane shooting from his hand like a bullet. Ladybug swung to the side, ducking out of the way just in time. The airplane sailed harmlessly away.

“You think you’re clever?” Reverser asked, raising an eyebrow. “From assailant to ally, reversion! ” 

Ladybug grimaced, ducking around the flurry of paper planes. It felt like one of her video games that she’d play with her Papa, trying to dodge the bullets while jumping to the next platform. Or in this case, hooking her yo-yo to the next building. Each jump felt longer, each swing dangerously close to getting hit by another paper plane.

What if Reverser was affected by his own reversions and saw her just as Alya did, as the girl who read Marc’s journal? What if he mentioned it and Hawkmoth found out who she was? Her identity would be completely exposed in an instant. She wished she’d never read that stupid journal.

“Reverser, wait! Just listen for a moment!”

A rueful flash of a twisted black-and-white smile met her gaze. “I’m done listening. All I do is listen and trust, and look where that got me. You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get how much I loved and trusted Nathaniel and Marinette. You don’t get how they broke my heart and ripped it into pieces, just like those pages of my journal. Now it’s my turn to take control.”

Okay, so he didn’t say anything about her reading Marc’s journal. That was good. That probably meant that his reversions only worked based on who Reverser specifically wanted to reverse, and he’d only wanted to reverse Marinette, not Ladybug. So her identity was safe, at least for now. 

Reverser glanced back at her again. “From careful to clumsy, reversion! ”

He motioned as if to throw the plane in Ladybug’s direction, and she braced to duck again. But his arm moved down, not up. The plane sailed down towards the Seine, towards Pont de Arts—the “love lock” bridge—towards an unsuspecting biker far below. 

As soon as the plan disappeared into the biker’s arm, he froze, throwing his arms into the air. His feet let go of the pedals. His eyes widened in fear as he stared ahead, watching his own impending crash.

A civilian was in danger.

No time to wonder what Reverser’s game was.

Ladybug swooped down, letting her yo-yo drop her just close enough to the bridge to catch the stunned biker. She swung by and caught him just in time, coming to a stop right by a bench. The bike fell harmlessly to the ground, one wheel still spinning. The biker shivered as the realization of what almost happened hit him.

“Are you okay?” Ladybug asked, kneeling down to help him remove his helmet. He looked shaken, like he’d just experienced something terrifying. And surely, he had. It had to be disturbing to forget a skill that he’d previously found simple.

The biker nodded. “Y-yeah, but I forgot how t-to ride a bike—!”

“Reversion!”

Something sharp hit Ladybug’s leg. 

She looked, just in time to see the paper plane disappearing into her leg. Reverser stood nearby on his hoverboard, hands on his hips, clearly proud of himself. His lips formed a cruel smile. 

Oh, he was smart.  

Much smarter than most akumas. 

Ladybug tried to stand up, but her legs gave out, forcing her back onto her knees. She scrambled for the bench, for any flat surface to climb up, but her legs wouldn’t let her stand for more than a few seconds. It was like her legs had fallen asleep and wouldn’t wake back up. “Reverser, what did you—?”

What was the last reversion?

From careful to clumsy.

Reverser smiled. He thought this was funny. Well, she was about to be hilarious.

Narrowing her eyes, Ladybug picked up her yo-yo and tried to swing for him, but the string snapped and fell harmlessly at her feet. Even her yo-yo was useless now.

“Great job, Ladybug.” Reverser stifled a laugh. “All that work just to save one civilian, and now you can’t even stand properly. This should be easy then.”

But before Reverser could move, something large and black landed on top of him, knocking him from his hoverboard. Reverser fell to the wood planks of the bridge, landing on his face with a sickening thump, and above him stood a grinning Chat Noir, flexing one arm and basking in his perfect landing.

“I’ve been telling you,” he teased, “Cats always land on their feet.”

“Chat Noir! The akuma’s in the hoverboard!” Ladybug tried to stand up, but that was her biggest mistake. Her legs gave way again, forcing her back onto the ground. She instinctively gasped, “Oh, woah.”

“M’lady?” Chat Noir turned his head.

“From sacrificial to scaredy-cat, reversion!”

It was too late. The plane hit Chat Noir right in the shoulder, disappearing in a swirl of black ink. And during the commotion, Reverser found time to stand up and look both of them in the eyes, watching his plan unfold even with his own setback. They’d played right into his hands, and he knew it.

“Ahh!” Chat Noir screamed, pointing at Reverser with an exaggerated cry. He jumped towards Ladybug, hugging her tightly and clinging onto her neck. “Who is that? He looks so scary and mean!”

“Aww, is the poor little scaredy-cat afraid?” Reverser made a fake sad expression. “You know, you wouldn’t have to face any more villains if you gave me your miraculous.”

“Don’t do it, Chat.” Ladybug muttered. How much he’d actually listen to Reverser was a toss-up at this point, and she wasn’t taking any chances. “He’s just an akuma. We’ve fought so many of them before, he’s no different.”

“Aw. I’m hurt, really.” Reverser snapped his fingers, and his hoverboard glided towards him, stopping right at his feet. He stepped onto it, and the hoverboard lifted him into the air. “Now give me your miraculouses. Unless you want to help me find Nathaniel and Marinette?” A paper airplane formed in his hand. “I could make you reveal their locations instead.”

Ladybug froze. If Reverser did that, then she’d reveal her identity as Marinette.

He’d put her in a no-win situation with no way out. 

“W-what’s the bad guy gonna do to us?” Chat Noir stammered, leaning backwards. 

With Chat Noir’s weight shifting, Ladybug found herself stumbling backwards, back towards the rail behind her. She scrambled to grab onto the rail, but her new clumsiness made her hand slip. Chat Noir screamed, right in her ear. She wanted to scream too.

And with that, the two heroes were sent plunging down into the Seine.

~

Reverser frowned, staring down at the ripples in the river, the only indication that the heroes had disappeared into its watery depths. They were right there. But it didn’t matter anyway, he was just getting the miraculouses to keep Hawkmoth placated. That wasn’t what he truly wanted.

Speak of the devil. Hawkmoth’s voice echoed in his mind, “What are you doing, Reverser? Go! Get the miraculouses!”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Reverser glanced down at the dirty water of the Seine below. Water that would certainly destroy both his paper costume and his hoverboard. But his paper clothing wasn’t the only reason for his hesitation. “I understand. But it’s not time yet. I have something big planned for everyone in Paris, and a wild goose chase would just get in my way. Have patience.” 

Hawkmoth let out a low growl, but did not press the issue further. “I see. Well, I look forward to your show.”

“You won’t be let down.” Reverser glanced off into the distance as Hawkmoth’s voice faded into silence. The chess game was in motion, now time to make his next move. “I must find Nathaniel. When I burn everything down, he’ll be right by my side.” 

~

“. . . and then he asked if I wanted to add a tip. Like, what?” Chloé scoffed, sipping her mocktail with one hand and holding out her other hand for Sabrina to coat her nails in a pastel yellow polish. “It’s not like we’re in the States or whatever. And even if we were, my mom never tips. Who even cares? Anyway, he did a terrible job! It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

Sabrina nodded dutifully. “That’s awful, Chloé.”

“I know. I’ll see if Daddy can fire him.” Chloé set down her drink and adjusted her sunglasses. The two girls were hanging out on the roof of the hotel, with Chloé resting in one of the lounge chairs and Sabrina sitting next to her, painting her nails while they talked. Or rather, while Chloé talked. Sabrina often just listened. 

“Where are Nathaniel and Marinette?”  

Both girls’ heads shot up, only to find an akuma staring back at them. It had to be an akuma; there was no other explanation. Something about him seemed familiar to Sabrina, but that was masked by his all-black-and-white appearance and deep voice. He was standing on a giant floating paper airplane and glaring, his black and white hair blowing lightly from the breeze.

“Does it look like I care?” Chloé rolled her eyes. “Sabrina and I are literally busy right now, and I don’t have time to keep track of a bunch of losers.”

“ Chloé . . .” Sabrina attempted meekly. 

 The akuma pursed his lips and scoffed, “Ah, typical Chloé Bourgeois. I’ll give you one more chance: where are Nathaniel and Marinette? ”

Chloé didn’t seem bothered by the threat at all. She moved her sunglasses back onto her head and picked up her drink again, taking a sip before answering the akuma’s question. “Who cares? Dupain-Cheng’s probably off trying to solve world hunger or something, and Kurtzberg’s probably making some sappy art about Ladybug or that boy he li—” She froze, eyes widening as she stared, face to face with the akuma. “You—you’re the . . .”

“Shut up!” the akuma cried getting genuinely flustered. “Just—from hateful to helpful, reversion!”

Before Sabrina could blink, the akuma had thrown a black-and-white paper airplane at Chloé, where it disappeared into her shoulder. As if possessed, Chloé immediately stood up and faced Sabrina, a too-happy smile plastered on her face. 

“Sabrina, would you like anything? A drink? A snack?”

“Uh, s-sure.” Sabrina stammered. “A drink would be good.”

“Coming right up!” Chloé exclaimed, her cheerful tone matching her smile. It wasn’t Chloé at all, it was like a surreal alternate version of her. And before she could question her friend, Chloé began to make her way to the exit of the roof, probably heading towards the kitchen.

Now left alone with the akuma, Sabrina turned back towards him and quickly asked, “Um, do you think you could—maybe, uh—not hurt me? I don’t know where Nathaniel and Marinette are . . . but um, I could get my dad to look . . .”

Even if she didn’t know what this particular akuma could do, her father—Officer Roger—had dealt with some of the people affected by akumas’s powers in the past. After hearing stories about the innumerable ways people had gotten hurt or nearly killed by akumas, she didn’t want to risk anything happening if she could help it. And if helping look for Nathaniel and Marinette was all he wanted, she could do that. Even though her father wasn’t answering his phone for some reason.

The akuma just stared at her for a moment, his expression softening. Or at least, he didn’t look nearly as angry as he did with Chloé. Finally, he just muttered, “You deserve better friends.”

Sabrina froze, processing what he’d said.

She genuinely hadn’t expected him to listen to her plea, much less take her side. And it was now that Sabrina could recognize where the familiarity came from: underneath the black and white exterior was the face of that boy Nathaniel had been sketching during class so long ago. That was the drawing that Chloé had taken from his sketchbook and teased him for it, inadvertently outing him in front of the whole class. And now this akuma—who was the other boy akumatized—was looking for Nathaniel. All the pieces fit together, more or less.

“Oh . . . thank you!” Sabrina exclaimed. “Are you, um . . . ?”

The roof door opened up again and Chloé walked through, holding a tray with another mocktail and a bowl of grapes on it. “Oh, Sabrina! I got you a snack too, just in case!”

Sabrina glanced back towards the akuma. He nodded once, then flew off on his paper plane and out of sight. Now that he was gone, she was left with just Chloé . . . who wasn’t acting like Chloé at all. Did he give her a blessing or a curse? 

“Is there anything else I can get you, Sabrina?”

“Actually, yes.” Sabrina told her, quickly thinking up a plan. Chloé’s smile widened. “Could you send Marinette an apology gift? She isn’t happy with how you’ve been treating her. Make sure to write a heartfelt note, too.”

“Absolutely! Even though she read Marc’s journal, she still really deserves one. You’re so right, Sabrina!” Chloé nodded, then began to head back towards the roof exit. 

“Wait, Chloé!” And as much as Sabrina already felt like she was pushing it, she added, “Send an apology gift to Nathaniel, too. And Alya and Alix . . . actually, just send one to everyone in our class. They all deserve one from you.”

“Yes, of course! I’ll give them the best gifts.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but grin. She could get used to this.

~

“Ah! That water was so cold. And dirty! What if I get frostbite and an infection?”

“Trust me, you’ll be fine.” Ladybug rolled her eyes, dragging her helpless legs out of the cold, dirty water and onto the cobblestone bank of the Seine. And from there . . . she was stuck. As a test, she tried to get to her knee, but her balance and depth perception was now long gone. She stumbled back to the ground, pain shooting through her knees. Her wet hair hung limp, the gross water dripping from her bangs and down her face. Ugh. This wasn’t the first time they’d fallen into the Seine during an akuma fight, but it never got less disgusting. “Let’s just focus on the akuma.”

“The scary guy? With the airplanes? Can’t we just forget about him?”

“No, Chat. We need to defeat him, remember? Just like any other akuma.”

Nearby, Chat Noir shivered, cat eyes widened and hair equally soaked in the river water. He was doing absolutely nothing to help his partner to her feet, more interested in some blanket left behind on a bench. Within seconds, Chat had wrapped the blanket around himself, and Ladybug bit back a comment about how he was just getting the blanket equally dirty.

A jogger running past stopped next to them, taking in the sight of Ladybug on the ground in a tangle of limbs and Chat Noir shivering and clutching his face. “Uh, you need any help?”

“No thank you, we’re fine.” Ladybug shot the jogger a look, and when he shrugged and kept heading down the path, she continued, “Alright. Reverser said he was looking for a boy named Nathaniel—you remember Nathaniel, right? He was Evillustrator. And Reverser was also looking for a girl named Marinette, but I don’t think that he’s as important as finding Nathaniel. Just, you know, a hunch.” Was she rambling? It sounded like rambling. She just hoped that Chat Noir was too caught up in his fear of everything to catch on to why she didn’t think it’d be easy or practical to bring Marinette.

“Marinette? I don’t like her.” Chat Noir wrinkled his nose. “She read Marc’s journal. You know Marc, right? He didn’t do anything wrong, but Marinette read his private writing anyway! That’s so mean.”

Ladybug’s heart sank. Even her partner, her closest confidant, was under Reverser’s power when it came to her—as Marinette—reading Marc’s journal. This was all Reverser’s doing, she knew that of course, but it hurt to keep hearing. It hurt that everyone now knew she’d done something morally dubious and now was paying the price. Reverser was, in part, her fault, and she knew it.

Chat Noir gasped. “Do you think she’s read my private journal?”

“I can assure you, she hasn’t.”

“Oh, good. I mean, I don’t even have a journal, but if I started one—”

“Chat Noir, we need to focus!” Ladybug exclaimed. She couldn’t take one more minute of being accused of reading Marc’s journal; even if it was true, even if he didn’t realize he was talking to Marinette, it still stung. Her only sense of reprieve was that Reverser’s power didn’t follow her from one identity to the other, so at least no one could make the connection that she was Marinette.

Wait, that was it.  

“Okay, I have an idea. When I was, um, my civilian self, Reverser got me.”

“What did he do to you?”

“Uh—doesn’t matter. The point is, I was reversed as a civilian, but the reversion isn’t affecting me now. It must only work on the identity that Reverser’s trying to reverse, not our alter egos. So let’s go transform back to our civilian identities, then regroup and look for Nathaniel . . . or I guess we can look for Marinette too, though we should focus on Nathaniel. But it’s hard to think when I can barely walk, and you’re . . . not doing well either.”

“Well, of course not!” Chat exclaimed. “Everything’s terrifying! You don’t get it, M’lady. It’s like living in a real-life nightmare!”

She couldn’t imagine what it was like in his head. Reverser had made it so that she was physically unable to do anything, but not psychologically. How much harder would it be had Reverser messed with her brain? Still, she had to admit that it was amusing for her once brave-to-a-fault partner to find himself freaked out by the smallest of things. 

“. . . right. So we need to get somewhere we can transform back separately, then we can come up with ideas once our heads are clear. Then we’ll meet back up at the Notre Dame, and we can work out what to do next, okay?”

“I guess . . .” Chat Noir frowned, only solidifying that today, Ladybug had to be the brave and impulsive one. And she really wasn’t good at filling that role, but there was no choice. “If you say so, M’lady.”

“And I do. So let’s go find somewhere to transform. Hurry, we don’t have much time!”

But it became all too clear that they needed to get back up to the road. And the only way to get back onto the streets of Paris was a staircase up from the bank of the Seine. A staircase that was wet with rain, slippery, and downright impossible for Ladybug to climb if she could barely control her legs. She narrowed her eyes, the reality of their situation sinking in. There was no way to “hurry” in these conditions.

“Oh, I hate stairs!” Chat Noir proclaimed. “They’re so scary! What if I slip and fall?”

Ladybug sighed. This was going to be a long day.

~

Juleka nodded along to the song in the headphones Rose had forced on her head. It was good, made especially better with Rose’s beautiful vocals. It wasn’t that lyrically complex, just a fun song about life always working out for the best, but it was very Rose, and Juleka could feel every bit of heart that Rose put into it, every one of Rose’s underlying feelings put into art. It was like magic for your ears.

“It’s nice.”

“Really?” Rose asked, awaiting further confirmation from her girlfriend, diamond-blue eyes wide with anticipation. “I don’t know, it’s a little different than the stuff I usually write, but I thought it was pretty good!” She hesitated. “. . . but I can change it if you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it. Seriously, it’s so good.”

Monsieur Monlataing glanced at the two girls with a smile. “I see that you’ve been working hard on your new song! You two make such a good team.”

The door slammed open. All three people in the room looked up, startled.

Now in the doorway stood that akuma Juleka had seen earlier, the black-and-white one on the news with the paper planes. She’d thought they’d be safe at art club. The akuma was looking for Nathaniel and Marinette, and neither were present today, so she’d been sure that they’d be fine. It seemed like that wouldn’t be the case after all.

Monsieur Monlataing stepped in front of the girls. “Marc? Is that you?”

“I’m not Marc, I’m Reverser!” Reverser spat, narrowing his eyes. “Where are Nathaniel and Marinette?”

“I don’t know!” Rose exclaimed. “I haven’t seen either of them in hours, promise! I mean, Marinette’s my friend and all, but you know, she has her own stuff to do, and Nathaniel—I don’t really know what he does—but I swear I haven’t seen them!”

Juleka put an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulder and shot Reverser an equally cutting look. Some akuma in a paper suit wasn’t going to intimate her Rose, not that easily. And Juleka was perfectly willing to sacrifice herself to this guy to keep Rose safe. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Fine.” Reverser frowned.  “I would’ve thought you two would get it. But I suppose not.”

“Wha—what do you mean?” Rose asked, her voice cracking. 

“You—you girlfriends, you’d get why I—” Reverser’s voice cut as he glanced around the room. His voice turned crisp. “Never mind. You don’t need to hide anymore, not like me. You don’t understand, and that’s perfectly understandable.”

“Ma–I mean, Reverser . . .” M. Monlataing began, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s talk about this. Do you want to work out your feelings here at art club? I’d be happy to sit down with you and talk about how Marinette and Nathaniel made you feel.”

Reverser stared at the teacher like he’d just suggested something far beyond Reverser’s comprehension. Juleka silently cursed their art teacher’s tendency for peace and reconnection, a huge misstep here. “Uh– no ? All I want is to know where Nathaniel and Marinette are. Right now!”

A paper airplane formed in his hand.

The girls trembled.

~

Reverser glided through the city, watching out below for anyone to add to his repertoire of chess pieces. He’d long since given up on finding Marinette or Nathaniel all by himself. That would take too long, and it simply wasn’t worth it, not after checking the few places he thought they’d be, not after tirelessly asking their classmates. No, if he couldn’t find them, he’d make them come to him. Better yet, he’d force everyone to deliver them to him with their bare hands. He’d make it downright impossible to refuse him. For once, he was the one in control.

Then something caught his attention.

“. . . and so, we’ve collected all of the city’s garbage in giant trash cans that are currently sitting outside of the Earth’s atmosphere.” Mayor Bourgeois announced. He motioned to the screen behind him with a flourish, where a video was showing a play-by-play of the creation of these gigantic trash cans with rockets attached on the bottom. The video detailed the conception of the idea and how it was developed. Apparently, this was the decided  response to Paris being considered “dirty”. “This idea was, of course, only made possible by our benefactor.”

Reverser rolled his eyes. Right, that billionaire from the package company thought that it’d be a good idea to pollute space instead and was starting in major cities with that controversial Space Trash Program. What a stupid idea.

But a useful one.

A crowd of protesters and environmental activists had formed around the stage that Mayor Bourgeois stood on. Many held signs with slogans such as “Keep Space Neutral” or “Save Our Planet, Don’t Ruin More”, while others passed around petitions and pamphlets. And upon seeing the video, they all began to chant, “Space is no dump! Space is no dump!”

“Of course, I understand that there may be concerns. That’s why this inventive plan has been fact-checked by a team of experts in relevant fields.” Mayor Bourgeois attempted, but he was quickly drowned out by shouts from the protesters. No one seemed to buy his “team of experts”, or if they did, they didn’t care.

Now that everyone was paying attention, it was time for Reverser to make his move. He swooped in on his hoverboard and stopped in front of the screen, which currently showed live footage of the giant trash cans suspended in space. He turned to the protesters. At his sudden presence, they all seemed to hold their breath for a split second before getting riled up again, this time in a cacophony of fear and panic.

“Akuma!” several people in the crowd cried out. 

Ignoring the commotion from below, Reverser glanced back at the screen. “Hmm. Paris, the cleanest city in the world? Let’s see if Ladybug and Chat Noir agree. From protective to destructive, reversion! ” He sent the paper plane hurtling towards the mayor, where it disappeared in a cloud of ink upon making contact.

Mayor Bourgeois turned back to the crowd, hurriedly pressing buttons on a tablet he’d been holding. “Well, I’ve changed my mind. The trash cans will be coming back down to Paris, just as you all want!” And with that, the engines on the trash cans fired up, sending them back down to Earth. 

As realization set in, the protests of the crowd turned into ones of fear. Reverser smiled. Everything was going exactly as he wanted; now time to get everyone else on board. He began to create numerous paper airplanes, rapid-firing them out towards the crowd. While some attempted to make a run for it, most cowered in fear, leaving no time to avoid the onslaught of paper planes.

And the first person he hit— wait, he knew her. Marinette and Nathaniel’s classmate, Mylene Haprele, was ordinarily a passionate environmental activist. She’d also apparently had a similar situation to Reverser’s with her boyfriend Ivan Bruel, where she secretly had a crush on him. Only difference, he liked her back and was just too shy to tell her. Whereas Nathaniel had opted to burn everything down.

Reverser grit his teeth. It wasn’t fair.

As soon as the reversion took effect, the look of fear faded from Mylene’s face. She ripped her protest sign into pieces and dropped the debris onto the ground. She glanced back at the trash cans, a dark smile forming on her lips. “You know, maybe climate change isn’t so bad after all.”

“Mylene?” Ivan asked, concerned.

Before she could reply, Ivan had gotten hit by a paper plane as well. Then a man standing next to them. And another bystander. And another and another, all the unfortunate people who hadn’t been able to get away in time.

Ivan’s head snapped up. He crushed a plastic water bottle he’d been drinking from, scowling. “I’m with you, let’s destroy this stupid planet!”

And they weren’t the only ones. All around them, ex-protesters began to rip up their signs and leave the litter on the ground. From there, they started swarming the streets, knocking over trash cans and recycling bins. The citizens on the streets who hadn’t been reversed either watched in fear or ran away. Noise and commotion could be heard from every direction.

Perfect. The previous reversion still applied to each of these paper planes, causing anyone hit to lose all interest in cleaning up the city and instead root for total environmental destruction. Another step towards descending Paris into anarchy, completed. And only Reverser himself could end the chaos. No police were interested in stopping him, the heroes were incapacitated, the mayor was helping create further destruction, and the city as a whole had become enshrouded in chaos.

Now Marinette and Nathaniel would have no choice but to listen to him.

“People of Paris,” Reverser began, glancing slightly upwards to make sure that the news cameras were focused on him. “My name is Reverser. You have a few hours before the trash cans enter our atmosphere and turn this city into rubble. I am the only one who can stop this, and all I ask is for you to do exactly as I say.” 

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Reverser grinned. Too easy.

“Bring Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marinette Dupain-Cheng to me. Or you’ll all pay.”

~

“You stress me out when you do that, you know?” Nathaniel complained, raising his head to look at Alix through his bangs. Too quickly. His pencil lead cracked on the blank of his sketchbook that sat in front of him. “Those are priceless paintings.”

After the horror of seeing his best friend—his crush—turn into an akuma because of him, Nathaniel did what he always did in times of extreme stress: he went over to Alix’s place. The only other choice was going home, and no way was he going to do that. He wasn’t even ready to face himself; how could he ever face his mother? She’d probably just remind him how much of a constant disappointment he was. Besides, his longtime best friend had a knack for making him feel better on most of his worst days. But today, it was just too much. Not even Alix could cheer him up, and in fact, her antics were starting to make it worse. Every single action, every moment only succeeded in reminding Nathaniel of that horrible moment, giving him the ghost sensation of ripping pages out of Marc’s journal and watching them fall. 

He was disgusting.

Alix cocked her head. “I’ll show you something priceless.” And with that, she backed up, skated towards the bench in front of her, and jumped over it, swerving to the left last minute, narrowly missing the seventeenth-century painting on the wall in front of her. 

“Great.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Now I feel even worse.”

“Lighten up! Marc will be fine , and then you can apologize to him for real. I’m sure he’ll be far more receptive to your apology than any akuma ever would.” When Nathaniel’s expression didn’t change, Alix continued, “Besides, when have the heroes failed before? They saved both of us from being akumas, after all.”

“You think so?”

“Mmhm.” Alix’s phone buzzed. She took a seat on the bench next to Nathaniel, then opened her phone and checked the text she’d received. “Oh hey, Jalil just texted me about the akuma. I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir are handling it, but y’know.”

The akuma . . . Nathaniel immediately got a sinking feeling. “Can you check the news?”

“Sure.” Alix turned on the TV, which was already on the news channel. 

Just in time, too. The news broadcaster was just switching over to Nadja Chammack to discuss the situation. She began, “Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news. As usual, I’m Nadja Chammack, and we’re just now receiving reports about the current akumatized person. He claims his name is Reverser, and he is currently threatening to use Mayor Bourgeois’ space trash dumpsters to destroy Paris if his demands are not met. We have helicopter footage of this akuma now.”

The screen changed to live camera footage of the stage where the Space Trash Program had taken place. In front of the large screen showing the trash cans’ descent towards the Earth, the same akuma from the park stood on a giant, floating paper airplane and glaring at the camera. Nathaniel’s breath caught. 

“That’s Marc?” Alix asked.

“Yeah, it’s him. I know it—I’d know Marc anywhere. And he told me in the park . . .” Nathaniel spoke, his feeling of dread growing stronger and stronger. “Alix, I got Marc akumatized, and now he’s going to destroy the whole city—and it’s all my fault.”

“Nathaniel. Take a deep breath and relax.” Alix said gently. “You’re shaking.”

“How am I supposed to relax when Marc got akumatized because of me?”  

They both turned at the sound of a voice from the TV. Reverser was addressing the camera, a slight reverb to his voice, which was far deeper than Marc’s. “Ladybug and Chat Noir, if you don’t want harm to come to the citizens of Paris, you’ll bring Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Nathaniel Kurtzberg to me. You have until the space dumpsters enter the atmosphere. I would predict that you have an hour. After that . . .” He paused, his face remaining expressionless. “It’ll be too late.”

“He wants me?” Nathaniel asked. He couldn’t keep the fear out of his voice, and for good reason. He’d actually tried to kill Chloé when he was akumatized, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Reverser wanted to do with him. Especially after what he did. Would he suffer the same way Chloé did? She’d been saved, just in time. What if his luck ran out?

“Well, I’m not too surprised. You really hurt Marc.” Alix suggested. “But this is your chance to fix it. Just apologize and explain why you felt that way. But make sure he knows it’s not an excuse and that you’re actually sorry. I think that could go a long way.” 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Nathaniel nodded. “Apologize . . . I can do that.”

From the TV, Reverser’s voice continued to lay out the situation. “If you’re thinking of trying to stop me, don’t bother. This city plays by my rules now. Isn’t that right, Mayor Bourgeois?”

The camera panned over to the mayor, who was excitedly tapping on his tablet that controlled each of the space dumpsters. “Just think of all the garbage that’ll litter the streets! We’ll pull in twice as many tourists as the City of Trash! And everyone will have me—and Reverser—to thank for it!”

“So true, Daddy!” Chloé Bourgeois exclaimed, leaning into the camera frame. “I hope that Sabrina’s happy about it! And Nathaniel and Marinette—even if she read Marc’s journal—and Alya and . . . everyone else!”

Nathaniel and Alix exchanged a glance.

Reverser looked back to the camera with a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if he knew Nathaniel was watching and wanted to gloat about his success. “My rules. I’ll see you in less than an hour, Nathaniel. You’ll get what you deserve for what you did to me.”

Nathaniel clutched his arms to his chest, his lungs no longer willing to operate correctly.

“We’ll watch together as Paris is burning. And then you’ll be all mine—” 

The TV clicked off as the remote clattered to the floor from Nathaniel’s shaking hand.

“I have to stop him.”

“You?” Alix asked, her tone half incredulous, half concerned. “But you’re not a superhero. No offense dude, but you’d become his mindless puppet in an instant. I know that you feel guilty, but please, just let the heroes handle it. They always do, you know that. Marc will be fine.”

Nathaniel didn’t respond, just gathered his sketchbook and pencils, placing them inside his satchel. His hand hit plastic; he’d found the backup water bottle he kept inside, which was useful for both hydration and cleaning paint brushes. An idea began to form.

“Nathaniel, listen to me . I know you like to jump into things, but that’s what started this whole mess, right? Ladybug and Chat Noir have a plan, I’m sure of it. There’s not much you can do now.”

And she was right. But that’s not what Mightillustrator would’ve done.

So that’s not what Nathaniel was going to do either.

He didn’t know where to find Reverser or where to even start looking. He didn’t know what he’d do if Reverser caught him or tried to reverse him. And he didn’t know what he’d say to Marc to ever fix his mistake. But he knew a decent bit about art, and he knew that non-watercolor paper and water did not mix. 

Nathaniel calmly fastened his satchel, took a deep breath, and started to make his way to the door. 

“Nathaniel, what are you doing? ”

“What I should’ve done a long time ago.” 

Nathaniel hesitated at the doorway, looking back at Alix with a certain passion in his eyes that both of them knew meant business. When he got in those moods, there was nothing and no one that could stop him from doing whatever his brain told him to do. And she understood, immediately growing solemn as she realized that convincing him otherwise was a lost cause.

“I’m going to tell Marc how I feel.”

~

Marinette huddled in an alleyway, knees clutched to her chest as she watched the broadcast on her phone. Just as she’d hoped, she wasn’t clumsy now—at least not more than she usually was as Marinette. No, Reverser had meant to reverse Ladybug, not Marinette, so she could at least walk. And now, she could hide and form a plan while Tikki finished off the cookies in her purse to regain energy. Then, when she was ready, she could execute that plan.

But she didn’t know what to do now. Reverser had a fleet of glorified bombs at his disposal. He had the mayor and the police. And she couldn’t show her face to him as either Marinette or Ladybug. If she was Marinette, he’d reverse her to do something, which wouldn’t help anything. And Ladybug was incapacitated. So was Chat Noir. They couldn’t even walk properly; no way they could defeat an akuma as clever and intelligent as Reverser. So what else did Reverser want?

Reverser wanted Nathaniel.

As much as Marinette hated to use Nathaniel as a bargaining chip, he seemed to be the only answer. It wouldn’t be risk-free, but it’d be a lot less dangerous than if she tried to turn herself in. It seemed like Nathaniel hadn’t been reversed yet, otherwise Reverser wouldn’t be looking for him. But she had no idea where to find him. All that had happened before was she told Nathaniel to run away, then she lost sight of him. 

Had he gone home? Unlikely; he seemed to hate being at home and did everything he could to avoid it. He’d once said his mom was “really strict”, which Marinette took to mean a lot worse than he was letting on. Would he go back to school, back to the art club? Maybe. But in a flash of inspiration, she suspected somewhere else entirely.

Marinette quickly searched through her contacts, selected one about halfway through her list, and pressed the call button. The phone rang, rang, rang, until she was almost sure that she wouldn’t have an answer, but finally, the connection crackled and she could hear a reluctant voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi Alix! Do you know where Nathaniel is?”

“What, so you can lie to him again? Or look at his sketchbook without permission?” Marinette could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Even if I know where he is, why would I tell you? He doesn’t trust you, and neither do I, not after you read Marc’s journal when he didn’t want you to.”

Marinette sighed. Of course Alix didn’t trust her. She’d nearly forgotten about Reverser’s first reversion, but now that it took effect again, it was going to be a huge pain. How would she find Nathaniel like this? Or rather, how would she find him before Reverser did?

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Alix.”

“Thanks for what?” But Alix hung up on her before she could answer.

As sure as she was about the outcome, Marinette attempted to call Nathaniel. Maybe his response would give her a clue of where he was? But the phone only rang once before abruptly cutting off, and when Marinette checked her phone, it indicated that he’d blocked her number.

Marinette took a deep breath. Thoughts swam in her head, and none of them were helping at the moment, not when she needed to find a creative solution as quickly as possible. What if someone else could call Nathaniel for her? She began scrolling through her contacts. Who else was he friends with? Maybe Juleka and Rose? They were all in art club together, after all. Or maybe Nino? The boys in class seemed to be pretty good friends with each other. Or maybe—?

Ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut, she called Adrien’s number.

“Marinette?”

“Hi, Adrien. Do you think you could call Nathaniel for me? He blocked me, but I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

He went silent for an excruciatingly long moment. “I can call him. But if I do, I, uh . . . I don’t think I should tell you anything about it. I mean, he probably wouldn’t like it since he blocked you, right?”

“No, Adrien, wait! Nathaniel didn’t block me because he’s mad at me! Well, he probably is a little mad at me, but he’s even more upset because of Rev—the akuma! He made it so no one trusts me anymore! I swear, I’m just trying to make things right.”

“I don’t know.” His tone was hesitant, yet regretful. “I’m sorry Marinette, but after you read Marc’s journal without his permission, I’m just not sure.”

Marinette grit her teeth. His first response had given her false hope, but now it was clear that Adrien was just as affected by Reverser’s reversion as everyone else was. “Alright. See you later, Adrien.” And she hung up on him before he could add anything and make the whole situation worse.

This was it. No one trusted her. There was no way she could recover before she defeated Reverser and ended the power of his reversion that made her everyone’s enemy on Marc’s behalf. Was it really that bad that she’d read through a journal that Marc left behind? It wasn’t, he wouldn’t have brought it to school if it was really that private, right? Surely this was an overreaction to looking at something Marc hadn’t gone back to get?

No. It wasn’t right. She’d violated Marc’s privacy, and this was her punishment.

Even if this was caused by Reverser, she’d still done the action to Marc. Maybe this wasn’t an emotion created by Hawkmoth and the akuma. Maybe this was a real emotion that Marc had, twisted and reformed beyond his control as Reverser, but still something he felt. And it was her fault.

As soon as she returned Marc to normal, she’d apologize to him. And to do that, she had to find Reverser and take him down. And to do that, she needed to find Nathaniel. Not as Marinette, as Ladybug. Someone everyone trusted, not someone who betrayed their trust.

She silently urged Tikki to hurry up so she could put an end to this once and for all. 

~

“Time’s running out, Paris!” Reverser gleefully spoke, staring right into the TV camera. They were broadcasting his every word, and he didn’t want them to miss any bit of his plan. “Either you deliver Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marinette Dupain-Cheng to me, or your city’s gone. ”

A crowd of tourists had gathered below the Eiffel Tower, watching in a mixture of surprise and terror as they pointed and took pictures of the scene unfolding all around them. Reverser watched them, amused. They were like little ants who didn’t know their jobs. Almost pitiful. 

Reverser angled his hoverboard towards them and swooped down, stopping about a meter off the ground. The drone camera followed him like a pesky mosquito, recording his every action. Not that he minded, this was his show. The tourists who’d been standing around now exchanged glances, took a step back, made their fear evident all over their faces. How cute. 

Narrowing his eyes, Reverser glanced around, as if choosing his next victim. “And whatever will happen to the tourists?” His voice edged on playful. “Hope you all enjoyed your stay in Paris, but unfortunately, I’ll be cutting it short. Forever.”

An American tourist bravely spoke up. “And you—you just want those superheroes and two people? Then we’ll all be saved?”

“That’s right!” Reverser exclaimed, turning his full attention to that tourist, who took a step back, eyes wide in fright. “Now, where could they be? Don’t want to keep me waiting much longer. I will have what I want, one way or another!”

The crowd of tourists all looked around, as if they could make the heroes, Nathaniel, and Marinette appear just by wishing. But no such luck would help them today. There was only one way to prevent the trash cans from making impact, and none of them were in control. Not even Reverser was, but he’d be satisfied either way.

Reverser looked straight into the camera. “Tick tock. Don’t let Paris burn.”

~

Alix bit her lip, mindlessly skating circles around the bench where Nathaniel usually sat. He was long gone, off on some hero mission that anyone could tell was a lost cause, but it seemed like something he needed to do. For Marc, and for himself. Even if she thought it was stupid, even if she thought he’d made a mistake, she knew she couldn’t stop him. She had to let him try, to clear his conscience, to fix what he broke. And she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him he couldn’t do it.

She’d kept the TV on in case she heard anything about Nathaniel. The whole news channel was filled with information about Reverser, but nothing about her friend. Reports about the failure of the Space Trash Program, video of Mayor Bourgeois gleefully tapping on his tablet to send the dumpsters back to Earth, a tip that the school had been attacked and all the art club members reversed to hate art and music . . . all pieces of Reverser’s reign of chaos. The information had turned into a steady drone of destruction and outlandish things happening, one report fading into another as Alix made her 25th lap around the bench.

A shout through the open door, “You drive like a maniac!”  

Was that Chat Noir?

Alix stopped skating, pausing to listen as she pressed her brake into the floor. Sure, there were plenty of times that akumas came to the Louvre and she got a firsthand view of the coolest fights in the city, but Reverser never came here. So there was no reason for the heroes to be here now, right?

“Sorry, sorry. He’s not himself right now.”

And that had to be Ladybug.

Alix took a seat on the bench, now listening intently to the voices. A sound of a car driving away punctuated the conversation, then silence filled the space, other than some footsteps. And the footsteps were unsteady, like they couldn’t walk properly.

After a few moments, sure enough, Ladybug and Chat Noir came into view. Except, for some reason, Ladybug was clinging onto Chat Noir’s shoulder like a crutch, taking slow and awkward steps, and Chat Noir was wearing a blanket, shaking and fidgeting with his hands. Their faces brightened upon seeing Alix, but darkened again after looking around the room.

“Who are you looking for?” Alix asked.

Ladybug focused on Alix and shook her head, as if to change her thoughts like a Magic 8 Ball. “Sorry, Alix. We’re looking for Nathaniel. Is he with you?”

“No, he went to go stop Reverser. By himself.”

“By himself?! But, he can’t—”

“Oh, I know.” Alix shrugged. “But he did it anyway.”

Ladybug sighed. She tried to exchange a glance with Chat Noir, but he was too busy fearfully staring at the paintings around them. Alix watched in deadpan amusement, quickly realizing that they must’ve been attacked by Reverser and were now suffering the effects of the reversions, just like Chloé. It was a lot funnier when it was Chloé, though.

“Alright.” Ladybug nodded. It felt final. “Well, since we can’t get Nathaniel, and it’ll take too long to find Marinette, we probably need to just go to Reverser. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

Alix resisted a groan at hearing Marinette’s name. After learning that Marinette read Marc’s journal, Alix needed a serious break from her friend. How could she violate Marc’s privacy like that? She didn’t even want Marinette and Nathaniel around each other in case she tried something else—Nathaniel was very particular about his privacy after the incident with Chloé.

Chat Noir shivered. “Uh—okay, but he’s so scary!”

“We’ll be fine.”

This felt wrong. They couldn’t defeat Reverser like this, could they? There was no way that they’d stand a chance. And if Nathaniel had been part of their plan, and now he was gone, Alix had a bad feeling about all this. She had to do something.

“Hey wait, I’m coming too!” Alix exclaimed, quickly bending to untie her skates. “You can barely walk; you need someone to help you out. I can do that! Besides, Nathaniel’s my best friend. I know it’s his thing with Reverser, but . . . I’m kinda worried about him.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged another look, a real one this time. Finally, Ladybug held out a trembling hand that was desperately trying to maintain balance, which Alix took, shaking her hand with gusto and nearly pulling all three of them to the ground.

“We might need all the help we can get.” Ladybug told her. “Just stay safe and stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Will do!” Alix finished unlacing her skates, so she quickly kicked them off and slipped on her tennis shoes. “Especially if Nathaniel’s involved—he’s brave and all that, but he can be pretty impulsive and stupid, you know? And I wouldn’t want him to be anything else, but sometimes he can get over his head.” 

“Oh—not me.” Chat Noir insisted. “Too scary.”

Alix followed the two heroes as they stumbled their way out of the Louvre. She wanted to offer her help, but would they really accept help like that? They were heroes, after all, and Alix was just Alix. And admittedly, it was pretty silly to watch Ladybug clinging to Chat Noir’s shoulder, her expression filled with annoyance, while Chat Noir seemed to find something to fear in each and every one of the Louvre paintings. They made an exit out the side door and under the orange-blue sky, streaked with stellar light and the trails of what seemed to be shooting stars.

“Woah. The stars are out early tonight.”

Alix’s words hung in the silence. Something was very, very wrong. 

“Those aren’t stars.” Ladybug grimaced, tightening her hold on Chat Noir’s arm. “Those are the dumpsters for the Space Trash Program. And they’re about to re-enter the atmosphere.”

~

Nathaniel took a deep breath, his body firmly pressed against the brick wall of the nearby alley, his water bottle clutched in his hands. It’d been a few minutes since Reverser threatened the tourists, and he was secretly still hoping that Ladybug and Chat Noir would show up to get them out of this mess. But he was on his own.

Creeping out of the alley, Nathaniel held the water bottle in front of him like a weapon. Reverser was nowhere in sight, not anymore. The drone camera floated lazily next to the Eiffel Tower, recording nothing of importance. One glance up told Nathaniel that Reverser was not around the Eiffel Tower at all. Where could he have gone?

Nathaniel let out the breath he’d been holding, keeping his grip on the water bottle tight. He’d missed his chance to act. Now he had to look around for Reverser, and from what he could see, there was no place for such an elaborate akuma to hide. Maybe Reverser was looking for him again. Maybe he went back to Place de Vosges. Maybe he went to Marinette’s house.

Then something grabbed the collar of Nathaniel’s blazer.

“Looking for me?”

Nathaniel froze, clutching the water bottle with both hands as if it were a bar of soap. His eyes widened as the reality of the akuma right at his back—the akuma hissing in his ear—set in. Reverser knew he was coming, knew that he’d be trying something, and anticipated it. Now, with a firm hand on his collar, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re so fascinating when you try to play the hero.” Reverser murmured, his voice softer than Nathaniel had heard it before. With his free hand, Reverser took the water bottle from Nathaniel’s grasp and threw it away. It bounced off the cobblestones, much too far for Nathaniel to grab. “It’s almost amusing how you want to fix everything after breaking it. But then why break it in the first place?”

“W-what did I break?” Nathaniel stammered, already knowing the answer.

“My journal. My heart. ”

Nathaniel could feel Reverser’s breath on his neck, on his ears. Was this how Chloé felt when Evillustrator stalked her down in her room? Like an animal of prey? 

“It doesn’t matter. When I’m finished with you, you’ll be all mine.”

Nathaniel didn’t like the sound of that.

Reverser yanked Nathaniel’s collar, forcing Nathaniel to look at him. His face only centimeters away, Reverser stood on the ground instead of on his hoverboard for once.  His eyes were icy and hostile, scrutinizing him, seemingly picking out every single one of his flaws to exploit and use against him. His jaw was clenched, his lips pressed tightly together. The physical manifestation of Marc’s anger and fury, frozen in hostility. Reverser was close enough to either kiss him or spit in his face, but chose neither.

“And somehow . . .” Reverser whispered, black-and-white strands of hair falling into his eyes as he leaned in. “Somehow I can’t hate you.”

Nathaniel’s heart thumped so quickly he worried he might explode. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Reverser would do to him. Reversing him to be his servant, to join him and Hawkmoth, to destroy everything in Paris as revenge for the journal . . . and worse things his brain could only picture in horrific flashes. 

“You’re nervous.”

“Um, yeah.” Nathaniel could barely process Reverser’s words. “I guess.”

“You know who else was nervous? Your best friend. Your best friend who trusted you, trusted that you’d respect his feelings. And you called his work a joke. You thought his request wasn’t good enough. You destroyed his hard work and didn’t even care.”

“Reverser—I cared, I was just wondering if—”

“Don’t lie to me.” Reverser spat. “You’re such a liar. How do you even have any friends when no one knows how to act around you? No one can trust you with their feelings, their artwork, anything.”

The grip on Nathaniel’s collar loosened. This was his chance.

With a gust of energy, Nathaniel ripped away from Reverser’s grasp. Before Reverser had time to react, Nathaniel took off down the street, running as fast as his legs could carry him, hoping that he could get far enough away to hide before Reverser could easily outrun him on the hoverboard. Through the street, down an alleyway, through a group of nervous tourists. Paris was a blur of buildings and people.

Nathaniel began to run out of breath, and his lungs ached for him to stop, but he couldn’t. Not when he could hear something that sounded suspiciously similar to Reverser’s hoverboard behind him.

“Nathaniel!”

Definitely Reverser.

This was it. He was done for.

Chapter Text

Ignoring the akuma calling after him, Nathaniel picked up the pace until he reached a side street. He ducked into that street and slammed his body against the wall, desperately hoping that Reverser hadn’t seen his escape. And a couple seconds later, he saw Reverser fly right past his hiding spot. The akuma didn’t even turn or notice him at all.

He relaxed and took a deep breath. He’d made it.

But then . . .

The sound he’d heard before echoed throughout the quiet street for a split second, and then in a blink of an eye, Reverser was standing on his hoverboard right in front of him. Unlike his usual neutral expression, Reverser appeared triumphant, a dark smile on his lips.

“Found you.” he said softly. “Did you really think you could hide from me?”

At a loss for words, Nathaniel attempted to take a step backwards, forgetting that he had no space behind him. His foot hit the wall, making Reverser’s grin widen. Nathaniel shuddered. His expression was nothing like Marc. He could hardly see the resemblance to his friend anymore, but it was the slight similarities that hurt the most, seeing someone that looked like Marc—but not quite—so cold and angry at him felt like a punch to the gut. Was it this bad when Marc had to interact with Evillustrator? 

“I—I’m sorry.” Nathaniel finally attempted. “I only thought that you—that you were trying to tell me something—or that you were kidding . . . I didn’t know what to think. And I didn’t mean to do anything to you . . . I feel bad that I lashed out at you . . .”

Reverser rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Excuses, excuses.”

“It’s not an excuse, I swear—!”

“Mmhm.” A paper airplane formed in Reverser’s outstretched hand, but he didn’t even look at it, opting instead to watch Nathaniel with a hint of intrigue in his eyes. “You give me so many stories, Nathaniel. So many different narratives, and you say they’re all true. You’re mad at me, you feel badly, you want nothing to do with me, and on and on. So that’s enough of that.” He held his paper plane aloft. “From disingenuity to the depths of your heart— tell me the truth! Reversion!”

Reverser’s hoverboard was too close to avoid the incoming paper airplane. Nathaniel held up an arm in a half-hearted attempt to block it, but as expected, the airplane made contact with his arm and disappeared. He didn’t feel any different physically, but something was compelling him to speak. And based on what Reverser said, he really didn’t want to say anything.

“Well?” Reverser demanded. “What’s the truth, Nathaniel? How do you feel about me?”

Nathaniel bit his lip, nearly shaking at this point. 

Reverser looked away in disgust. “I knew it. You won’t talk because you know I’m not going to like the answer. You’re so fake, and I don’t know why I ever thought different. You’ve never cared about me—actually, you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. ”

“Wait, Marc—uh, Reverser!” Nathaniel stammered, trying to hide the way his voice was quivering. “I can tell you the truth. I didn’t reject you because I hate you; I’ve never hated you at all.” Words poured out of his mouth faster than he could understand what he was saying, and he couldn’t tell if that was due to the reversion or because he was nervous. “The truth is, I’m in love with you. So I like you a lot, more than just a friend, but I know you don’t like me as much as I like you. That’s fine. I just thought—based on what Marinette told me—that you were going to ask me out, and I was stupid enough to think that you truly liked me too.” His heart rate was starting to go down, even though he was practically condemning himself with every word he was saying. “But if you still want to be my friend, we can make a comic book together. That sounds fun. And I promise, I’m working on getting over my feelings for you.”

When he finished, he looked up. He’d expected to see Reverser angry at him, or even upset, but that wasn’t the case at all. The akuma was watching him with a surprised expression, his lips parted slightly as he seemed to muse over what Nathaniel had said.

“You’re . . .” Reverser began, watching him carefully. “. . . really in love with me?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“You’re not trying to trick me or something? So you can get my akuma?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “I can’t lie. You made that happen.”

“Oh.” Reverser said. The moment of silence after he’d spoken was one of the longest moments of Nathaniel’s life. The akuma standing above him, staring intently down at him, his expression cold and cutting . . . he almost felt like he was in trouble at school. Finally, Reverser spoke again, his tone slightly softer: “Well, that isn’t what I expected at all.”

“Are you . . . disappointed?” Nathaniel asked weakly.

“Hardly.” Reverser jumped down from his hoverboard, now almost at eye level with Nathaniel. His lack of dominating height might’ve calmed Nathaniel’s nerves, but any comfort from that was negated by the fact that Reverser was standing extremely close to him. If Reverser took another step forward, his boots would’ve collided with Nathaniel’s shoes. His expression was still cold, though a slight curiosity could be seen in his eyes. “You always surprise me, Nathaniel Kurtzberg.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Nathaniel blurted. He really hadn’t wanted to say that aloud, but aside from the akuma’s influence, Reverser was even more intimidating up close, and after confessing his crush on Marc, he wouldn’t doubt that the akuma would be even more irritable with him. 

Reverser narrowed his eyes. “No.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Nathaniel was acutely aware of how much he was shaking, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He suspected that Reverser was trying to scare him, and well . . . it worked. He also knew Marc to be an expressive and emotionally open person, while Reverser was constantly difficult to read. Due to this, as well as the tension from not knowing what the akuma would do, Nathaniel found himself looking down at his shoes.

“Especially since I do have feelings for you.”

Nathaniel’s head shot up. “What?”

“I’ve liked you since we first met, Nathaniel.” Reverser spoke, his tone flat. “I knew you would never love a nobody like me, especially since you liked Marinette. She’s friendly, outgoing, successful . . . everything I’m not. Fine. I was content to be your friend. But then, when you were Evillustrator and took me on that date, you made me feel special, like I was someone special. For a moment, I actually believed that you were sincere, that you truly loved me. That’s what I hoped you would reciprocate the whole time when I gave you my journal. But then you called it a joke and blew up at me. How was I supposed to know that you didn’t realize I liked you too? That you weren’t furious at me for it? You treated me like garbage because of your assumptions.” He went quiet. “And you haven’t even apologized properly.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” Nathaniel said. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I judged you from my assumptions, and I’m sorry I got upset when you did nothing wrong. You never deserved that.” He took a deep breath, carefully planning out what to say next. “I didn’t know that Evillustrator took you on a date.”

“I didn’t tell you because I assumed those were his feelings, not yours. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You mean so much to me, Nathaniel.” He paused. “Hawkmoth tried to get me to bring back Evillustrator for him to control. And I almost fell for it. But . . . I didn’t want to see you as his puppet. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You have no idea how much I care about you.”

Nathaniel nodded, processing everything still. He could deal with the embarrassment of what he’d actually done while akumatized later; this was far more pressing. “Those are my real feelings, I promise. As for the date . . . Chloé made fun of me for liking you. That’s why I got akumatized. I told you that she outed me as bisexual . . . it’s because I was drawing something romantic about you, and she teased me in front of the whole class. So when you said why you were actually meeting me in the park, I got scared. I didn’t want to be made fun of again.”

“I understand. And I accept your apology.” Reverser glanced up at the sky, where the space dumpsters were getting closer and closer. “In that case, this whole plan is pointless. I think I should—” He was suddenly cut off, his eyes wide. It didn’t seem like anything external had caught his attention, so Nathaniel guessed that Hawkmoth was talking to him inside his head. “I see. Fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“What happened?” Nathaniel asked.

“I’m sorry, but I have to complete my end of the agreement.” He turned and leapt back onto his hoverboard, then proceeded to hold out a hand to Nathaniel on the ground. “Come here. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you.”

Wordlessly, Nathaniel stepped forward. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Taking you somewhere safe. Or just anywhere that isn’t a dark alley.”

That didn’t sound so bad. Best to not get on an akuma’s bad side, even if he and Reverser were on good terms at the moment. And he didn’t want to do anything that would make the situation worse. 

But in his hesitation, Reverser saw resistance and his face hardened. “Are you coming? Or do you plan to try to destroy my hoverboard with another water bottle?”

“No—no. I’m coming.” Nathaniel insisted. “I only keep one backup water bottle anyway.”

“I know you do.”

And those four words said so much about Marc’s feelings that Nathaniel had been missing this whole time. He had so much to relearn, so much to make up for. As soon as Marc was back to himself, Nathaniel had work to do.

But for now, he was just along for the ride.

Nathaniel reached out and took Reverser’s gloved hand. Faster than he expected, Reverser yanked him up onto the hoverboard, causing Nathaniel to hastily grab onto the akuma’s shoulders and chest to keep from losing his balance. In response, Reverser pulled Nathaniel closer to him, keeping their faces mere centimeters away again, and held onto him with one arm, expression still blank and cold. Nathaniel didn’t say anything, silently thanking the fact that Reverser couldn’t see his face, which must’ve been at least pink. They were close enough that they could kiss. Nathaniel wasn’t sure which was worse, that he’d noticed that or that he secretly hoped it would happen.

“Hold on.” Reverser muttered.

Clenching his eyes shut, Nathaniel found himself stiffening as the hoverboard lifted underneath his feet. Heights weren’t his favorite on the best of days, and the akuma’s tight grip keeping him steady didn’t help much. His hair whipped into his face, making him wince, and seconds later, he could feel Reverser’s fingers pushing the hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. Not aggressive, nothing like the way Reverser had grabbed him before, just gentle. 

“You know, you’re kind of pathetic when you’re not ripping up my journal.” Reverser spoke, his deep voice distorted further by the wind. “But that’s fine. I like to take care of you. Like I said, you’re mine.”

Nathaniel bit his lip to keep from saying something incredibly stupid, his thoughts escaping him like an open birdcage. Why wasn’t he scared? It would’ve almost been better if Reverser kept talking, that way something would fill the silence. Luckily for Nathaniel, the hoverboard ride was mercifully short, and before he knew it, they’d stopped moving. 

Nathaniel opened his eyes to find himself near the floor of a platform—the one at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Without saying anything, he let go of Reverser’s shoulders and stepped off the hoverboard, feeling slightly shaky. He glanced up at the akuma again. He had no idea what to say to him . . . or even where to start . . .

Reverser watched Nathaniel for a moment, his eyes deep and intense, cutting like lasers. “Good. Now you’re safe. You stay here, and I’ll be back. I just have to go and get the miraculouses as promised.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” Reverser said tightly. “Then we can be together. And when Paris gets destroyed by the so-called heroes’ negligence, we can find somewhere else. It’ll be our world, Nathaniel.”

As if to prove his point, Reverser leaned forward and clasped Nathaniel’s hands in his own gloved ones. Then, without warning, Reverser gently kissed Nathaniel’s cheek. Nathaniel froze, unsure of how to react or what to do. The only thing he knew was that his face was probably bright red and definitely burning in embarrassment. He’d never been kissed by a boy before. And even though it was an akuma . . . it was nice.

Reverser leaned back again and met his gaze. There was some sort of amusement in his otherwise stoic face, meaning he was probably aware of Nathaniel’s current mortification. But he refused to acknowledge it aloud, simply stating, “I’ll be right back.”

And with that, Reverser dropped Nathaniel’s hands and took off into the sky, leaving Nathaniel standing at the edge of the platform. Billions of thoughts ran through his head, but he couldn’t act on any of them, frozen in indecision. 

He knew he needed to do something to help out, to do his part to defeat Reverser and save Marc. The water bottle would’ve worked, he just knew it. In all superhero stories, every villain had a weakness. Evillustrator’s was the light level. Every akuma before had something that the heroes had used to defeat them, and Reverser had to have one too. Did Ladybug and Chat Noir figure that out already? Was this finally Nathaniel’s chance to be a hero?

But regrettably, Nathaniel couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. 

Man, he really hoped his mom hadn’t seen that on TV.

~

“You’re a public health hazard!” Chat Noir exclaimed, slamming the taxi door behind him in a huff. 

Alix stifled a laugh behind her hand while Ladybug shot the taxi driver an apologetic look and handed him some money. “Sorry, he’s not himself right now. No hard feelings, okay?”

The taxi driver glared. “I was only going 24!”

“I know, I know. Thanks!” Ladybug turned back to her partner, getting out of the taxi herself, then she nearly collapsed, her arms inadvertently wrapping around Chat Noir’s neck. Any other time, he’d be making some sort of romantic quip about that, and she almost missed that version of him. Almost. Though she’d never admit it to him. But instead, he just shivered in fright. She whispered, “You okay there?”

“No! Are you telling me we have to fight that bad guy?”

“Reverser? Yeah, it’s our job.”

Alix glanced up, scanning the burning skies for Reverser. “How? What’s the plan?”

Great question. The plan wasn’t in place. They had no Nathaniel, and feasibly no way of getting Marinette. They had no idea where to even start looking to find Nathaniel, who was the only hope against Reverser now, either as a mediator or a bargaining chip. And now, between the two of them, there seemed to be nothing that Ladybug or Chat Noir could do. Only Alix had her full wits about her, and she was just a civilian. She couldn’t do much without a miraculous or without a plan that she could control. So what now?

They also couldn’t find Reverser. He’d been at the Eiffel Tower before, but now he was nowhere to be found. How were they supposed to bargain with him if he wasn’t here? And what did they even have to bargain with now? Nathaniel was supposed to be with Reverser—where was he?

The sharp ringtone of a phone broke through the silence. Alix shot the heroes an apologetic look and fished her phone out of her pocket. “Hello?”

“Hello? Alix?”

Even from a distance away, even while Alix’s phone wasn’t on speaker, there was no mistaking Nathaniel’s voice. Where had he been? Reaching for Alix’s shoulder, Ladybug lunged forward, trying to catch what Nathaniel was saying. His voice sounded vaguely broken-up and garbled, like he was somewhere windy. 

“Who’s that?” Chat Noir gasped, pointing towards Alix’s phone. “He sounds so scary!”

“That would be Nathaniel. You’ve met him.” Alix deadpanned, then she turned back to the phone. “Nath? Are you okay? What happened with Reverser?”

“Reverser? Ah—well—we can talk about that later.” Nathaniel stammered. “But Reverser—he’s made of paper! If the paper gets wet—”

“It would dissolve!” Alix cried. “Genius!”

“Thanks. No one’s ever called me that before.”

Ladybug spoke up, hoping Nathaniel could hear her through the phone and over whatever environmental situation he was in. “Nathaniel? Can you hear me? This is Ladybug. Where are you right now?”

“At the top of the Eiffel Tower. I can see you guys.”

“How did you get up there? I thought Alix said you were confronting Reverser.”

“Uh, yeah. I confronted Reverser. And he brought me here.”

“What?” A series of worst-case scenarios ran through Ladybug’s head. Had Nathaniel already been reversed? Was he telling them something incorrect to aid Reverser’s plan? Or had Reverser kidnapped him? This wasn’t like Evillustrator, where she could trust the akuma was keeping his love safe. Reverser was angry like a shard of ice.

“Well, he just—”

Reverser’s voice cut through the evening. “From untouchable to uncreative, reversion!”

Ladybug staggered backwards as the paper airplane hit her in the back. Every single idea they’d had to defeat Reverser, every part of their plan, all of it left her head like a sink left running. Questions piled up instead, each one muddling her thoughts and ideas further. What was the plan? Why was Alix here again? Why did they need Nathaniel? What was Chat supposed to do? Why did she—? What—? How—?

With great effort not to fall over, Ladybug grit her teeth and turned to look Reverser in the eye. He hovered about half a meter off the ground, his lips twisted into a smug smile. “What did you do?”

“Just in case you got any ideas.” Reverser raised an eyebrow. “Are you looking for something? Or some one , perhaps?

“ Reverser! What did you do to Nathaniel?”

Why was she asking about Nathaniel? What did they need him for? 

Reverser grinned, clearly pleased with himself at whatever he’d done. “He’s safe. And he loves me. He loves me just as much as I love him. Now there’s only one thing left to do: either you give me your miraculouses, or Paris will be turned into rubble. And now that I have Nathaniel, I win no matter what.”

“What—what about Marinette?”

Why was she asking that? If she was Marinette, this was pointless, right? What were they going to do about that problem? Had she come up with a plan?

Next to Ladybug, Chat Noir shook his head in disapproval while Alix grimaced. This was getting really old, having her name be associated with only annoyance and bad memories. But it worked. Reverser’s point was crystal clear; reading Marc’s journal was a bad move. But under Reverser’s power, she couldn’t think of a way to fix it. How could she make it up to Marc? How do you apologize for that? How do you show you won’t do it again? How—?

“Who cares? She’s got what was coming to her. And now I need your miraculouses.” Reverser held out a hand, his black-and-white eyes flicking between the two heroes as if he was waiting to see which one would break first.

Chat Noir gasped. “We have no choice! The scary guy is gonna hurt us!”

How did they get out of this? What could they do? Did they just have to give up their miraculouses? No, they couldn’t, but in that case, wasn’t Paris going to be destroyed? And then all the people would die . . . how could they avoid that? Why was Alix here again? What was Nathaniel doing? Should they just give up their miraculouses?

“No, Reverser.” Alix stepped in front of them. “They won’t.”

Reverser eyed her carefully. “Have it your way, then.”

And with that, Reverser took off into the orange-pink sunset. The trash cans burned through the sky, each one like a shooting star about to find impact, burning brighter than the sun. The evening was on fire with no feasible way to stop it.

“Ladybug,” Alix nudged her. “This would be a really good time to use your Lucky Charm.”

“Oh! Right.” Ladybug agreed, stumbling to her feet. “Lucky Charm!”

A black-spotted red piece of paper floated down from the sky, fluttering just out of Ladybug’s reach. She reached for it and nearly pulled Chat Noir down with her. As they scrambled to a relatively steady standing position, Alix picked up the paper and handed it to her.

“Fire, Police, Medical . . .” Ladybug read the few words on the paper, confused. The whole paper was a list of emergency services, each one listed alongside a phone number. “It’s . . . a list of emergency numbers?” 

As she usually did, Ladybug glanced between the Lucky Charm and her surroundings, looking for some sort of connection. But nothing came to mind.

What could they use that for? Call the police? No, the police were compromised, so what else was there? Call an ambulance? But none of them were injured . . . so why would they do that? A firefighter to put out the fiery trash cans? No, that was impossible, but what else could they do? And how did any of the emergency services reach Reverser when he was all the way up in the sky? Could the Lucky Charm be wrong for once? How did they get out of this? How—? Why—?

“Are you gonna call the police?” Chat Noir asked, hiding behind her shoulder. “They’re so scary! They might arrest us. And how would they get Reverser? He’s so high up. Isn’t he scared of heights? I am!”

“I don’t know, Chat! I can’t think of anything!”

With both of them unable to do anything or think straight under Reverser’s power, they were just on the verge of giving up, giving into Reverser, unable to do anything other than give up and let Paris be saved in exchange for their miraculouses. Even though it was unthinkable, it was the only way to prevent total destruction and casualties.

But Reverser had underestimated someone.

“Wait— water!” Alix exclaimed, perking up. “Nathaniel really is a genius.” 

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir turned to her, incredulous. What was she talking about? What did that mean? How did water help again? Where was the water going to come from? How were they supposed to stop Reverser with a phone call? But Alix wasn’t deterred.

“Ladybug, call the fire department!”

~

“So, you want me to use my hose to hit that akuma guy?” asked the firefighter. He frowned, adjusting his yellow jacket as he looked above the small group at Reverser’s silhouette. “I don’t know if it can go that far, but I can try.”

“We’ll take all the help we can get!” Alix said, proudly echoing Ladybug’s words from before. The firefighter glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow, likely at the idea of listening to a kid instead of the two heroes. Alix made a face, motioning to pay attention, fed up with the lack of people actually doing something. “Come on, we need water!”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Sorry, kid.”

The firefighter aimed his hose and turned it on. Crystal clear water sprayed from it, arcing towards the Eiffel Tower, reaching higher than they’d feared. They’d done it! They’d—

The hose deflated as the water slowed to a trickle, not the stream it’d tried to become. 

Wait, what was wrong with the water?

“There’s not enough water, I guess. It’s connected to the fire hydrant, but my partner was supposed to turn it on. But he’s, uh . . .” The firefighter pointed to another man in a similar yellow jacket, this one spray-painting a nearby brick wall with unintelligible designs, far away from the street that the fire hose snaked into. He was causing chaos and anarchy in a manner that struck Ladybug as similar to Officer Roger in the park. Reverser was clearly taking down the government, one branch at a time. “. . . not active right now.”

When had Reverser done that? As if on cue, the whole group looked upwards.

“Give up yet?” Reverser called down, his voice carrying his signature smugness despite having to travel the length of the Eiffel Tower. “That’s your plan? To put out the dumpsters with water? You know, Ladybug, that’s not how it works.”

So Reverser thought that their plan involved using the fire hose to put out the trash cans? But how could that help them? Did he know that the hose wasn’t working? What was the hose for again? Did he plan for this? Had he stopped the hose? How did fire hoses work again?

Alix picked up a traffic cone to use as a megaphone. “Aw, you’re right, Reverser! We have no idea what we’re doing. You won, and now we’re just trying to stop the damage.”

Ladybug blinked, looking down at Alix. What was she doing? They had a plan, they just needed to make it work, right? Was Alix just giving up? Should they give up now? Maybe giving up was the only idea they had left?

 “Don’t be sarcastic with me! You’re desperate and you know it!”

“No, no, I’m totally serious! You win! Guess we should’ve been more clever like you.”

Chat Noir nodded furiously, hiding his face in his blanket. “Yeah! You’re really scary!”

“Fascinating! We all knew this would be the outcome, but finally you admit it.”

What was going on?

Alix leaned towards Ladybug and whispered, “Yo! See that? Reverser’s real weakness isn’t just water, it’s not being the most clever person ever. If we say we have a plan that Reverser doesn’t know about, then he’d be all suspicious, but if we look really desperate, he won’t care about us ‘cause then he’s smarter than us. Get it?”

What was Alix talking about now?

“Never mind. Forgot you’re bad at plans. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out!” Alix glanced over towards the firefighter, who was furiously tapping the end of the fire hose, trying to make water come out. But this only succeeded in creating a few drops of water that splashed harmlessly onto the cobblestones. “We still gotta do something, though.”

The dumpsters picked up speed, streaking across the sky. Little shooting stars against a sunset background that spelled out the fate of Paris.

Was this it? The one time the heroes would be defeated by an akuma?

~

Nathaniel finally took a deep breath, something he’d been holding for nearly fifteen minutes while sneaking away from Reverser. The akuma was so focused on the heroes and Alix—who he couldn’t believe came to save him —that Nathaniel was able to take the elevator down the Eiffel Tower, sneak around the Trocadero Gardens, and make it into the street. And now he could help. But how?

Then he stopped walking.

Sitting in front of him was a fire hydrant connected to a hose. 

This was it. The hose that the heroes had wanted to use to stop Reverser. But it didn’t seem to be full of water or anything, almost flattening like a deflated balloon. Probably not enough water to get Reverser in the sky. There was also a huge wrench lying on the ground about a meter away from the fire hydrant, which had a wrench-shaped silver thing where the hose was attached, tossed aside like it was nothing.

This couldn’t be that hard, right? Nathaniel had never been good at mechanics—and even if he’d had skills in the field, his mom would’ve hated him having an interest in something so dirty and unimportant—but this was straightforward. Just take the wrench, turn the silver thing, and water would come out, right? Even if he didn’t know what it was all called, it looked like it made sense. He was smart enough to figure it out, at least.

Glancing up at Reverser, Nathaniel saw someone who’d been hurt again and again by his lack of proper communication and looking to see what Marc truly needed. Someone who loved him in such an innocent way that he didn’t even dare to ask him out, only wanted to work together. Someone who’d become his lover and enemy in the form of Reverser, Marc’s rainbows turned black-and-white, echoing Marc’s self-censorship of his own identity as a gay person. 

It had to be set right.

Nathaniel closed his eyes. “I love you, Marc. And I’m so sorry.”

And then he picked up the wrench.

~

Out of nowhere, water exploded from the fire hose. The stream of cold water hit Reverser square in the chest, forcing him to stumble backwards. His paper costume started to disintegrate already, his hood melting like wet paper mache, black and white mixing to something mushy and grey. His hoverboard dipped. His eyes widened. He spat out some scared sound, showing the first sign of vulnerability.

“Wh-what?” Reverser stammered, stumbling backwards. “I thought—but you—”

“Yeah!” Alix screeched, aiming the hose right up at Reverser. “Take that!”

Alix guided the powerful stream of water to hit the hoverboard directly. Within seconds, it began to plummet, taking Reverser down with it. Reverser screamed, his control of the situation finally dissipating like the wet remnants of his hoverboard.

“Te—tell Nathaniel . . . tell him that I—!”

“Tell him yourself!” Alix shouted back. “Chat Noir, now!”

“But I’m scared!”

With a searing look from Alix, Chat Noir squeezed his eyes shut and began to scale the side of the Eiffel Tower, gingerly leaping between bars of steel.  Having no idea what was going on and why Chat was doing this, Ladybug clenched her teeth, unable to give her full attention. What if he fell? Why was he doing this again? Was Alix crazy for this? What about Reverser? Would Marc be okay? What about—?

“Okay, do it now!”

At Alix’s cue, Chat Noir leapt into the air. “Cataclysm!”

In that single jump, his right hand—the one with his Cataclysm activated—brushed the remains of the hoverboard, while his left arm locked onto Reverser’s body like a stage hook. Just in time. The hoverboard turned grey and dried into dust, a white butterfly ambling away from the remains. The force of his leap was just enough to propel him to the other side of the Eiffel Tower, his feet grazing the steel. Was he going to make it?

And then— clang.

He’d just made it.

“Ah! That was way too scary!” Chat Noir complained, clinging to the side of the Tower with his right hand. His left arm was still clamped tight around Reverser’s body. “I’m never doing that again!”

Reverser struggled in Chat Noir’s arms. His hood had already disintegrated, his hair tangled in the breeze, a wild mess of black and white. “You can’t—I had a plan!” 

Ladybug watched Nathaniel reemerge from the side street just in time to see Reverser angrily protesting against his defeat. To most, it was just a powerful akuma, brought down to earth and left in this pathetic state. But Ladybug, even in her muddled state, knew it was more than that for him. This wouldn’t be solved right away, though . . . how could their problems be solved, again? What were they supposed to do to make Reverser go back to normal? Wasn’t Ladybug supposed to do something? She couldn’t remember what . . . 

“Too bad. We had one, too.” Alix shrugged. “Now, Ladybug, throw the paper with the numbers into the air and yell ‘Miraculous Ladybug’, then everything will be normal again. Okay?”

“Oh! Right!” Ladybug gasped. That was it! She tossed the paper with the emergency numbers into the air, letting it catch the breeze. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The piece of paper created a ripple effect, the wave of magical ladybugs sweeping over each member of the group other than Alix. Suddenly, Ladybug’s mind felt clear again. The fog that had thoroughly disguised her thoughts dissipated, and now everything made sense. That’s right! She did have to fix things with the Miraculous Cure! What a relief! Alix shot her a thumbs-up, and Ladybug nodded.

“Whoa! That was pretty cool, actually!” Chat Noir exclaimed, newly restored to his regular self, still holding onto Reverser. “I should remember that stunt for next time!”

Looking up, they could see the magic ladybugs settle over Mayor Bourgeois for a moment. When he became visible again, he was frantically tapping his tablet, reversing the course of the space dumpsters as quickly as his fingers would let him. And quickly, each of the fiery star-like objects in the sky faded away. National disaster avoided, at least for now. Next, the ladybugs covered the other firefighter, making him drop the spray paint in shock as he realized what he was doing. And the ladybugs continued their journey until they were out of sight, presumably returning Chloé, the art club, Officer Roger, and everyone else back to their usual selves. Finally, the cloud of purple-black akuma smoke cleared from Reverser’s body, purple and black dissipating to reveal behind a very confused-looking Marc Anciel.

“Wha—where am I?” Marc asked, snapping to attention as he looked at the faces below him, paleing at the height. “ Oh —oh my . . . I’m so high up. Wait, where’s Nathaniel? He just—”

“I’m here.” Nathaniel called up, his voice more of a whisper than he intended.

Marc made eye contact with him, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The look in his eyes said it all, perfectly conveyed the remaining tension between the two of them. 

And with that, Chat Noir nimbly leapt back down to the base of the Eiffel Tower and carefully set Marc on the ground, quickly jumping back as if not to upset him. Marc glanced over at Nathaniel, then turned away, hanging his head in shame. Nathaniel bit his lip and sighed. 

The fight was over.

But the reconciliation had just begun.

~

Nathaniel had thought that he’d be able to relax now that his friend was safe and restored to his usual self. But that was naïve. Marc looked at him like both his punishment and deliverance, making Nathaniel desperate to right his wrongs and reconnect with his friend. Even if Reverser had lied, if his feelings weren’t Marc’s real ones, Nathaniel had to hope for the best and try. Otherwise, he’d lost a friend today, and he knew as well as anyone that he deserved it.

Ladybug approached Marc with a smile and asked if he was okay, with Chat Noir following suit. Not wanting to intrude yet, Nathaniel turned away, only to have Alix run forward and hug him tightly. “Nath!” she exclaimed. “I was so worried when he came after you. But such a good call on the water! You’re alright?”

“Y—yeah. I’m fine.” Nathaniel nodded. “A little shaken, but fine.”

She let go, looking up at him and grinning slyly. “You have black-and-white lipstick on your face.”

Nathaniel sighed, screaming internally. Why didn’t the miraculous cure get rid of that? He just hoped Marc hadn’t seen, but judging by Marc’s nervous behavior, he probably had. “Please don’t say anything about it.” Nathaniel muttered, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. 

She nodded, though the smile never left her face. “What happened there?”

“Well, I think —” Nathaniel shot a furtive glance back at Marc. “—that he likes me, too.”

“No way.” Alix spoke, her tone completely deadpan. “C’mon Nath, you know I meant what happened with Reverser! I mean, he kissed you, yeah?”

“Yeah, he did . . . he was pretty bold about it, too.” 

Nathaniel glanced over at Marc again, who was talking with Ladybug and Chat Noir, still trembling. It was difficult to imagine that he and Reverser were the same person, which only pushed the memory of Nathaniel’s own akumatization to the front of his mind. If Reverser hadn’t been lying—and he had no reason to lie—then Marc had actually gone on a date with Evillustrator. Which was absolutely embarrassing at best and downright uncomfortable at worst, even if Marc truly did like him back. 

He had to talk to Marc about it. About all of it. 

Alix broke his train of thought, saying, “Seriously though, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. Thanks, Alix.” 

The two friends exchanged a smile.

“Well, once again, the public opinion was correct.” announced Mayor Bourgeois, walking towards the group. Everyone turned upon hearing him. “I suppose the Space Trash Program was a terrible idea after all.”

“Uh, yeah? No kidding.” Alix remarked.

Ladybug stepped in with, “We’re just glad everything worked out and no one was seriously hurt! Though in the future, maybe check with some environmental experts before starting a major program like that. We can’t predict what akumas do with the city’s resources, but there are people who can predict environmental damage.”

Marc shifted uncomfortably, and Nathaniel had to hold himself back from trying to give him support. He wasn’t sure how to act around Marc now—not after all that had happened, and certainly not before they talked about it. Not that he had any idea when that would happen.

“Marc, Nathaniel?” Ladybug continued, now looking over at the two boys. “By now I think you guys have realized that there was a big misunderstanding. But if you two work together, I think you could make a great team.”

Nathaniel watched Marc’s face, silently pleading that Marc would give him that chance. He held out a hand, flashing a weak smile, hoping— begging —that Marc would take it. All he wanted was a second chance to try again, to make things right. Please, Marc. Please.

And then Marc put his hand on Nathaniel’s. His lips formed a small smile.

Chat Noir put an arm around Ladybug, holding out his fist. “Just like you and me, right M’lady?”

Ladybug gave him a rueful smile, not shrugging off his arm for once, and they did their signature fistbump, this one as soft and gentle as the night sky. “Pound it!”

The clouds passed silently overhead. The orange of the setting sun cast a warm glow on the whole group. Even as the day was ending, a new one was beginning between Marc and Nathaniel. There would be another day and they could try again. Despite Nathaniel’s fears, their friendship wasn’t dead, but maybe more alive than ever with the hope and fear of what was to come next.

Alix winked at Nathaniel. “Well, looks like all’s well that ends well.” 

“Indeed, and thank you heroes for your teamwork in protecting us from akumas.” Mayor Bourgeois nodded. “I don’t know what we’d possibly do without you. By the way, would any of you five like a ride home? It’s the least I can do after all that happened.”

Chat Noir shook his head while Ladybug said, “We’d love to, but we’re about to transform back, so we’ll have to say no for today. Actually, I think we should leave pretty soon in order to avoid revealing our identities.”

“Agreed.” Chat spoke up. “Cat-ch you later!”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Chat, please.”

And with that, the two heroes made their way on top of the nearby building and eventually out of sight. Nathaniel found himself watching after them, thinking over the advice that they’d given him and Marc. They were right. Of course they were. He needed to talk to Marc as soon as possible, even if he was dreading it.

“Do you boys want a ride?” the mayor asked.

Marc barely nodded. “Yes, please.”

“That’d be nice.” Nathaniel agreed, quickly glancing over to see Marc’s face. He didn’t seem upset at Nathaniel’s inclusion, but he could be trying to keep it together. There was really no way to tell.“Thank you, Mayor Bourgeois.”

The mayor beamed, then turned to Alix. “What about you?”

“Yeah sure— I mean, uh, no thanks.” Alix spoke up. “I want to walk. You know, to get exercise and all that.” 

Suspicious, Nathaniel glanced over at her. Alix had never cared about walking to get extra exercise—she already roller-skated every day. And his suspicions were confirmed when Alix discreetly motioned to him, then Marc, and winked again. He could almost hear her telling him to “just talk to him!”

Which was exactly what he wanted to do.

But that didn’t stop it from being terrifying.

~

Around seven minutes later, Nathaniel found himself sitting next to Marc in the mayor’s limousine, being driven by one of the mayor’s many employees, a man who introduced himself as Jean. Mayor Bourgeois had left upon arriving at the hotel, and now it was just the two boys who had to get home still. However, the traffic was terrible, probably in part because Reverser had reversed their city’s main police chief into an anarchist, and they were at a standstill while waiting to make it through an intersection. 

Nathaniel glanced over at Marc. The writer was fiddling with his journal, staring down at his lap and hunching his shoulders. It seemed like he was desperately trying to not look at Nathaniel or acknowledge him at all. And Nathaniel couldn’t blame him. But if Marc wasn’t going to break the awkward silence, it was up to him.

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked. 

Marc turned, his expression neutral. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay. That’s good.” Nathaniel took a deep breath, building his courage. “Marc, I’m sorry that I hurt you. You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you, and that wasn’t fair that I lashed out when I was just jumping to conclusions. And I’m so sorry that I got you akumatized.”

Marc didn’t answer at first, quietly looking down at his journal. His face was shrouded in shadow, keeping Nathaniel from reading his expression. After a moment, he said, “I forgive you. Thanks for apologizing.”  

“You don’t have to forgive me now . . . or ever.” Nathaniel replied automatically.

Even after looking up again, Marc was quiet once more. “It’s not that. I mean, I do forgive you . . . but, um . . . I don’t know what happened when I was akumatized . . . but I have some memories that I’m not sure about . . .” He glanced over at Nathaniel, as if expecting him to say something. “. . . and I don’t know how you feel right now.”

“About what?”

“About me.”

“I mean, I don’t know how you feel about me, either. Between what I did today and what happened in the past . . .” Nathaniel bit his lip and turned away. “I mean, I took you on a date when I got akumatized.”

“ Oh . . .” Marc sighed, then muttered, “You probably hate me now.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because it’s true, okay?” Marc exclaimed, his voice now filled with emotion, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “Whatever you think about me, it’s probably true. I went on a date with you when you were akumatized, I never told you about it, I’m in love with you —” His voice cracked, causing him to stop for a moment before continuing, speaking even faster now. “And I know I’m a terrible friend for taking advantage of you being akumatized just because I have a . . .” He winced. “A stupid crush on you . . . but I didn’t know what else to do. You—he— really wanted to go on a date with me, but I just assumed that it was probably just the akuma’s influence or something. And that’s why I wrote “girl” in my journal when—I mean, I could tell you knew that wasn’t it, I could tell that you figured out my feelings, but I didn’t want you to . . . that’s why I snapped at you—sorry for that, by the way—but I just never could really believe that you’d—” His voice caught. “. . . you’d actually like me.”

Not sure of what to say—and absolutely terrified of making the wrong move in case he lost Marc all over again—Nathaniel held out his hand and carefully glanced at Marc to indicate that he should do the same. He did so, softly placing his shaking hand on top of Nathaniel’s, all but directly holding his not-so-secret crush’s hand. With that, Nathaniel made his move, gently lifting Marc’s hand and kissing the back of it. 

Marc’s face grew bright red. “Oh.” 

Nathaniel lowered their hands but didn’t let go. “. . . I do like you. I wanted to tell you, but I never could . . . mostly because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose you. I know that sounds really dumb, but you really mean a lot to me.” Nathaniel paused. He could feel his heartbeat, pounding louder than he ever remembered before. “So I didn’t want to try. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable because of my feelings for you.”

“Oh Nath, I’m so sorry.” Marc told him. “I did the same thing. I didn’t want us to stop being friends because I really like being your friend—and just being around you—so I didn’t want to risk it. I was so scared of how you’d think of me.”

“I know, Reverser told me. But I’m glad to know that it was true.”

“He did? I mean, I did? Oh no, what else did he tell you?”

“I said pretty much all of it. He didn’t talk to me much.”

Marc paused, considering this. “Did I—he—hurt you at all?”

“ You didn’t hurt me at all. And Reverser . . .” Nathaniel paused for a moment, trying to find the right words even though it felt like they would never come. “He didn’t hurt me either. He was angry, but more cold than anything. And at the end . . . he was sweet. And he kissed—”

“I noticed.” Marc cut in, his face turning pink. He clutched Nathaniel’s hand tightly, turning his knuckles white. Nathaniel had never seen his friend look so scared. “I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry. That was probably really uncomfortable for you, and I didn’t want—”

“No, no! It’s fine. I didn’t . . . I don’t mind.” Nathaniel paused, desperately hoping that he wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake again. “So, um, if it’s not too late . . . would you want to be together? Like . . . boyfriends?”

Was this too soon to ask Marc to be his boyfriend? It was so quick after all that had happened . . . but something inside of Nathaniel knew that it felt right to ask now. He almost felt greedy, asking for his initial hope, the one from that fateful meeting with Marc in Place de Vosges. But even so, he wanted to try.

“Yes, it’s not too late!” Marc exclaimed. His face was bright red, and Nathaniel knew he wasn’t doing much better at hiding his feelings. But that didn’t matter. Right now, Marc was happy, and that’s all he wanted. Especially after what had happened earlier that day. “I’d love to be your boyfriend . . . I’ve liked you for so long that I never thought you’d actually ask . . . and then after today, I thought—I mean, I didn’t know if you hated me or not.”

“Definitely not, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel that way.” Nathaniel took Marc’s hand again and gently squeezed it. He hoped that Marc would see his actions as reassuring, and fortunately, Marc glanced over at him with a smile as his posture noticeably relaxed. “I’m just glad you’re not still mad at me.”

Marc nodded. “You explained everything, and while it isn’t okay, I can understand why you were upset. And I can tell you’re being sincere when you say you’re sorry. I know you feel bad, and I’m okay.” His voice lowered slightly. “Honestly, it’s easier to believe that you’re really sorry than that you like me.”

“How can I prove it?”

“I don’t know.” Marc thought for a moment, then smiled. “But this is a good start.”

“Did you still want to make a comic book together?” Nathaniel asked. “I’d like to, but only if you want. I only got upset because . . . well, I told you already. But I do want to work together. I really like your writing, and I’d love to work on storylines together.”

“Um . . .” Marc hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure? My writing really isn’t that good. I don’t know what Marinette was thinking, but—”

“Are you kidding? Your writing is amazing!”

“Oh. Okay.” Marc’s face flushed red. “In that case, yes! Let’s make a comic book together. I just wasn’t sure . . . you know, if my writing was good enough for your art. Like that one drawing you did? During art club? It was just so gorgeous . . . I don’t think my work could even come close.” 

Nathaniel couldn’t hide the smile and blush that crept across his face, just in anticipation of giving Marc a compliment. “Actually, I think your writing is much better than my art. I can draw a scene, but you . . . you take me there with your words.”

Marc froze. “Oh . . . really?”

“Really! Besides, not all my drawings are super high quality, anyway. Um, remember when I got upset that Chloé told the class that I’m bisexual? Well, she found one of my . . . personal sketches. You were in it. I’m sorry if that’s weird, but—”

“Can I see?” 

“Yeah. Of course.” Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t in Nathaniel’s sketchbook anymore, but he’d taken a picture of the drawing to store it on his phone for reference, as he did with all of his art. So he wordlessly pulled up the digital version of the drawing and showed it to Marc, trying not to cringe at the sight of it. “I’m sorry, I know it’s embarrassing and stupid.”

To his credit, Marc didn’t react harshly, even though he had every right to. He just looked over at the old drawing and asked, “That’s me and . . . Mightillustrator? Wait, is that supposed to be Evillustrator?”

“Yeah. Well, he was called ‘The Illustrator’ at the time, but then I got akumatized, and Hawkmoth kind of ruined that for me. So now he’s Mightillustrator.” Nathaniel explained, fully aware of the fact that his face was bright red. “But back then, I had a storyline in my head where he would . . . um, save you. From villains. And this was part of that storyline.”

“And Chloé found that?”

“I tripped and fell, so Chloé grabbed my sketchbook. But— you weren’t outed or anything—she was trying to make fun of me, and I didn’t know anything about your sexuality when I drew that, and I was just imagining that you would like me back..”

“I wasn’t worried about that part. I just feel bad that you were embarrassed like that.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel flushed red. “Well, um, thank you. Not many people . . . ah, nevermind.” He didn’t want to get into his ever-shrinking self-esteem for now. Nathaniel looked around wildly, hoping for any sort of change of topic, and the sky with its glowstick-blue caught his attention. “Oh, look at the sky.” Nathaniel nudged Marc’s shoulder. “It’s blue hour.”

Marc glanced out the window. “What?” 

“The time right after sunset. It’s supposed to represent change.”

And when he glanced back at Marc, their hands still clasped tightly together, a chill ran down his spine. Change.  

In the past few weeks—the past day , even—there had been so much change between the two of them. Still, it somehow felt right. Natural, even. That it made sense that the two of them would have the same feelings for one another. 

And once again, a sense of guilt began to grow in Nathaniel’s heart. What had he been so afraid of? Did he really think that Marc was trying to hurt him? 

“Marc?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I am.” Marc yawned. “But uh, thank you. You’re always so nice to me.”

“Are you tired?” Nathaniel asked automatically. “Sorry, I just—I remember being really tired after being akumatized.”

“A little.” Marc yawned again, resting his head against Nathaniel’s shoulder as he stretched. Before Nathaniel could even react at the sudden contact with the boy he loved so much, Marc immediately jumped back as if he’d been burned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No! You’re good. Please go ahead, I really don’t mind.”

“If you’re sure . . .” 

“I am! You’re my boyfriend; of course I don’t mind if your head’s on my shoulder.”

“Okay.” Marc cautiously rested his head again and closed his eyes. He still seemed tense, however. To reassure him, Nathaniel tightened his grip on his hand, causing Marc to smile.

After a bit of silence, Nathaniel noticed that Marc had fallen asleep while leaning on his shoulder and still holding his hand. He froze, desperately trying not to move at all. He didn’t want to wake Marc up when he was probably exhausted, but even more than that, he felt like he was dreaming. After years of pining for his secret crush, how could it be possible that his crush was now his boyfriend, and on top of that, was currently being affectionate even while sleeping? If this was a dream, Nathaniel didn’t want to wake up.

Besides, he was tired too . . .

Nathaniel found himself waking to the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It was Butler Jean, parked outside of Marc’s house. “Monsieur Anciel and Monsieur Kurtzberg, I hate to wake you, but we have finally arrived at the first destination.”

“Oh, thank you.” Marc said, stretching slightly. “Nath, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait—I’ll get out here too.” Nathaniel quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and followed Marc out the door of the limo. He turned back to Butler Jean and waved. “Thanks for the ride.”

“What—what are you doing?” Marc asked, confused.

“I wanted to say goodbye to my boyfriend, of course.” Nathaniel lowered his voice, glancing back towards the limo that had begun to drive away. “And I didn’t really want to ride alone. It’s a little awkward being a passenger in a limo . . . honestly, I’m not sure how Chloé enjoys it.”

Marc stifled a laugh. “Wow, Nath. That’s so romantic.”

“Hey, I wanted to say goodbye to you, too! It’s going to be a long fourteen hours before I see you again.” And even as he joked, Nathaniel didn’t want to leave Marc’s side. It was definitely melodramatic, but now that Marc was his boyfriend and he could be openly affectionate, he didn’t want that to end. “Maybe I could take you on a date sometime soon?”

“A date?” Marc’s face lit up. “Yes! That would be . . . perfect!”

“You’re perfect!” Nathaniel cringed the moment the words left his mouth. “That was so stupid, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it was cute. Besides, I already know you’re not too good with words. That’s why Marinette wanted us to make a comic book together. You’re good at what I’m not, and vice versa.” Marc tilted his head slightly to the side, his smile never fading. “You still have Reverser’s lipstick on your face. Do you need a tissue?”

“Yes, please.” Nathaniel took the tissue Marc offered, cringing in embarrassment. “I wasn’t expecting him—you—whatever—to kiss me.” An even worse thought occurred to him at that moment. “Did I ever kiss you when I was Evillustrator?”

“Fortunately, no. But if we hadn’t been interrupted by Ladybug and Chat Noir, I think he was going to.” Marc’s face was flushed too, which made Nathaniel feel a little better. This had to be one of the most awkward conversation topics possible, even if most of the tension between them was gone. “He kind of . . . put a hand on my chin, you know? Like he was about to kiss me?” 

Nathaniel cringed again. “Oh no, that’s so embarrassing. Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault, and honestly, it’s not as bad as you’re probably picturing. He was always very sweet and romantic towards me,  and he never made me feel uncomfortable.” Marc paused. “Though I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he actually kissed me. Not sure if I would’ve wanted to have my first kiss with a villain either.”

“How about with me?”

“What?”

Already regretting his attempt at being smooth, Nathaniel smiled weakly and repeated, “With me? Your first kiss? Would you . . . want to?”

“I mean, since you were Evillustrator, it would’ve been with you either way . . .” Marc trailed off for a moment, then his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! You’re asking . . . you want us to . . .”

“Only if you want.” Nathaniel cringed at his own awkwardness. “I’m sorry, I’m so bad at this. Now you see that I’m not great at being flirty or anything like that. But . . . would you want to?”

At Marc’s nod and warm smile, Nathaniel took his hand, hoping desperately that Marc didn’t feel how he was shaking, how this was more terrifying than anything else he’d done today, and it’d been one of the scariest days of his life. Taking down an akuma, lashing out at someone he loved, almost being bombed . . . but the scariest thing of them all was kissing his sweet, shy best friend.

And then Marc’s lips were on his. 

His lip gloss tasted like oranges and vanilla. His eyelashes fluttered delicately against Nathaniel’s cheek. His breath was heavy, as if this took the effort of moving a mountain. And maybe it did for him.

All too soon, Marc broke away, his breath thick and his eyes still closed. “Was that okay?”

Okay? Okay? The word “okay” didn’t even begin to describe how incredible it was. And even if it wasn’t, Nathaniel would rather have kept up the lie until they were old and grey before telling him. But no, it wasn’t just okay, it was magical . 

“Yeah, I think so. Uh . . . good job.” 

“Thanks, you too. You, uh, did better than Evillustrator, I think.”

“Oh!” Nathaniel exclaimed, his voice cracking. He didn’t expect that, and now he didn’t know how to respond. “Um, thank you! Glad I don’t need to be, uh, jealous of myself or anything like that.”

Marc laughed. “Hey, at least you aren’t calling me the same thing Evillustrator did.”

“What’d he call you?”

“My love.”

“ Oh. Oh, yikes.” Nathaniel made a face, then burst out laughing too. “Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize for that.

“It’s okay. I’ll be your love.”

Just as Nathaniel was about to stammer some sort of undignified response that would surely be the stupidest thing he’d said as a boyfriend so far—that is, the past thirty minutes—Marc’s mom opened up the front door to their apartment. 

“Cariño, come inside. It’s getting cold out.” Mrs. Anciel beckoned him towards her, then noticed their joined hands and smiled. “Aww, what’s this? Is this the boy you told me was muy guapo ?”

“No!” Marc exclaimed, his cheeks flaming red. “I mean—I’ll come inside now, Mamá.” He turned to Nathaniel, clearly embarrassed. He dropped Nathaniel’s hand and gave him a little wave. “Uh, bye Nathaniel, I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Text me tonight?

“Y-yeah! I promise.” 

And with that, Marc disappeared into his house with his mom.

Nathaniel only wished his mom would be the type to find their relationship cute and tease him about it. Instead, he was going to go home to a cold dinner and his mother still working at her standing desk, likely obsessing over some random sketch of her latest architectural commission. But he wasn’t as somber about it as usual. Now he had a boyfriend that he could look forward to seeing every single day. He just had to keep it a secret from his family for the time being, but that couldn’t be too hard. And even if it was, it’d be worth it. It’d all be worth it for Marc.

The sky was still painted in ever-darkening shades of blue, not quite the backlit blue from before, but something a little closer to nightfall. But this time, unlike in the case of Evillustrator, the darkness didn’t keep Nathaniel from his dream. 

This time, his dream didn’t need to end.

~

That night, Marc pulled his covers up to his chin, keeping out the cold from his bed but unable to keep the cold from his thoughts. Flashes of Reverser’s actions ran through his mind like the world’s most personal horror movie. The bombs— space trash cans —and the darkening sky and hurtling back to the ground, unable to save himself. 

He blinked. Those weren’t his memories. They were Reverser’s.

Before another vision had a chance to pass through Marc’s head, his phone dinged, startling him into reality. He looked down at the phone on his nightstand, reading the notification. Nathaniel’s name next to a text. Heart thumping, Marc opened his phone to read the text.

“Hi Marc, hope you’re okay tonight. Sleep well, and I can’t wait to see my cute boyfriend tomorrow.”

Marc couldn’t help the goofy grin that he just knew had appeared on his face. Awesome boyfriend. He was Nathaniel’s cute boyfriend. The most incredible boy in the whole world was calling Marc cute. The idea was so unreal, yet he had the proof right here. 

Marc texted back, “Hey Nath, I’m okay but can’t sleep. Thinking about Reverser yk.”

“I can call you.”

Blinking, Marc reread Nathaniel’s very quick response. He’d never expected anyone to care about him to that extent, to drop everything in the middle of the night to call him and make sure he was doing okay after such a traumatic situation. He waited a moment or two, then sure enough, his phone rang, displaying Nathaniel’s picture on the screen. Heart spinning, he picked up.

“Hi Marc, is this okay? I didn’t know if it was too late or—”

“You’re good, Nath.” Marc smiled despite himself at the worry in Nathaniel’s voice. Even after everything today, their tumultuous feelings between the two of them, seeing Nathaniel as both his salvation and destruction, the cause of his undoing and the reason he lived to tell the tale . . . underneath, Nathaniel was just a dorky, awkward person who was learning how to be in a relationship, just like Marc was. “Why’d you call?”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” And just as Nathaniel’s words had time to set in, he added, “And I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Marc couldn’t hide the joy in his voice.

“Of course! Marc—I like you, remember?” The only thing keeping Nathaniel’s words from being Earth-shattering and life-changing to Marc was the hint of embarrassment in his voice, clear as day. Was this always just as awkward for Nathaniel as it was for Marc? Nathaniel spoke again, letting a hesitant giggle slip through. “I did want to ask you something—y’know, if you’re up for it. Why did you change the word boy to girl in your story? You knew I liked guys, right? Did you think I liked girls more, or what?”

“Well, yeah. You always drew girls and stuff. But it’s not just that . . .” Marc hesitated, struggling to explain it even to himself. It seemed so silly now, that he’d tried self-censoring when there were a thousand other clues as to the owner of his journal. But it wasn’t about that. “I wanted to write something that you’d like. And I thought you’d notice that I was the one in the stories, so I wanted to impress you with something that you’d like. And . . . yeah, I was also trying to make it . . . I don’t know, less gay, I guess.”

“Wait, really? I was doing the same thing!” Nathaniel’s laughter could easily be heard through the phone. “But not because of you, more so people like Chloé . . . and my mom. Don’t tell her I said that, by the way. But I was trying to feel safer, I guess. Pretending to be straight so I don’t get humiliated again. If I could do what I wanted . . . I’d write about boys and girls—mostly you, of course.”

“Wow—uh, thanks.”

“You have no idea how much I liked you, do you? But . . . yeah, I wanted to explore more bisexual themes in my art, but . . . I was just too scared. I still am, kind of. But I don’t want it to be just girls or just boys. I want it to be real for me, to be both.”

The vulnerability in Nathaniel’s voice hurt Marc’s heart. “Well, we don’t have to publish anything yet. We can always make stuff for just the two of us and maybe some classmates to read. And I’d love it if you made Mightillustrator canonically bisexual. Like maybe he likes a girl, but then likes—”

“Reverser?”

“What?”

“Well, uh, if you’re up for it, I’d love it if we could include Reverser as another hero in the story. I know it wasn’t that long ago—I mean, literally today—and it might be too soon, I don’t know if you’re comfortable . . . but when I was akumatized, it helped to make Evillustrator into a hero, you know? Like that day didn’t have any power over me anymore when I was able to make my character however I wanted. Then the whole thing wasn’t so scary to me. And Mightillustrator could use a teammate. And maybe a love interest, eventually?”

“Add Reverser? I—I think I’d like that. Probably.” And the more Marc considered the idea, the more it felt like healing, like washing away the evil, the hurt, the manipulation, and bringing something that brought him joy. Mightillustrator could use a teammate, indeed. “Let’s try, okay?”

“Great! I have some ideas, but you know, it’s up to you how we do it.”

“And you.” Marc added, then stifled a yawn. “I think I’m finally falling asleep, so I probably should go to bed soon.”

“We can talk more tomorrow. And maybe kiss.”

“‘Maybe kiss’ . . .” Marc repeated, amused. “Alright, Nath. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight! And hey—Marc? You never have to hide yourself from me, okay? I like you just the way you are. I know that you have a hard time believing that, but I really do like you for you. No matter what you write about, no matter what my mom says, I just like . . . you.”

Marc allowed himself to smile at that, trying to genuinely believe it, to believe that someone—no, not just anyone, his biggest crush ever —liked him for who he was and not for how well he fit the standards of others. He couldn’t remove the self-deprecating thoughts just because a cute boy told him he was enough, but it was a very good start to helping him embrace it for himself. And he couldn’t thank Nathaniel enough for the confirmation that he was desirable and loved.

“Same for you, really. And don’t you forget that.”

“Oh—uh, thank you! Um, goodnight, Marc.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Nathaniel.”

~

“Why do you care about me?” Reverser spat.

“Because.” Mightillustrator smiled, offering his hand. “I was just like you once: an akuma that only caused destruction. Somebody hurt, somebody in pain. But Ladybug and Chat Noir gave me a chance, so I don’t see why you couldn’t get one as well.”

Reverser considered this, his expression still cold. “Do you even want me to join you? Or are you just asking me out of pity?”

“Of course I want you to join!” Mightillustrator insisted. He hated to admit it, but he found himself being drawn to this particular akuma. They fought villains nearly every day, but for some odd reason, Reverser caught his eye more than anyone else. Maybe it was his versatile power skillset? Or how similar he was to how Evillustrator had been? Or . . . was there another reason? A more personal one?

No, he couldn’t say anything about that. Even if he did think that Reverser was pretty cute, which he could hardly admit to himself, it wouldn’t do anything to convince him. That was for later. If ever.

“Fine. I’ll join you.” Reverser finally agreed, though judging by his expression, he wasn’t completely happy about it. He glanced down at Mightillustrator’s still-outstretched hand and took it. “Thanks for giving me a chance. No one else does.”

“Then I’ll be the first.” Mightillustrator told him. “Because you deserve it.”

Marc set down his journal and exchanged a glance with Nathaniel, who was beaming at him with pride. “And that’s all we have for the writing so far. As for the illustrations . . . Nath?”

Nathaniel held up his art portfolio, gorgeous illustrations of Mightillustrator reaching for Reverser, clasping his hand, and joining together as a team, faces inches apart. He clearly was proud of the hard work he’d done, glancing at Marc to make sure he was proud too. But all he saw when he met Marc’s eyes was admiration and pure, unfiltered love. At least, Marc hoped that’s what he saw. Because Nathaniel deserved to feel wanted too.

They’d done it. They overcame the rough patches and worked their way out until they were on the other side, and now they were together. Neither of them had ever thought it possible, but now they had each other as more than just a friend.

And Marc was absolutely giddy over having his first boyfriend. 

He’d always wanted to know what it was like to have a cute boy who wanted him and treated him like a prince. And in the past week that the boys had been working on their comic book, Nathaniel had far exceeded Marc’s expectations. They’d gone on coffee dates, took walks in the park together, even went to a local arcade where Nathaniel had won a cute little stuffed animal goat for Marc, which was one of Marc’s favorite animals. Marc had even finally been to Nathaniel’s house, though he could tell Madame Kurtzberg didn’t like him much. They’d also been kissing a lot more, and each time was just as special as the first. Nathaniel was every bit the hopeless romantic Evillustrator had been, sometimes to a fault, where Marc made sure to prove that Nathaniel was loved and cherished too. 

“Bravo, boys!” M. Monlataing exclaimed, clapping for them. The rest of the art club followed suit, Rose even cheering. “You two have made something beautiful together. You know, maybe we could look into getting your comics professionally published?”

“Really?” Marc and Nathaniel asked in unison. They glanced at each other again, and Marc knew Nathaniel’s expression of disbelief must’ve mirrored his own. This was a dream come true. He’d always wanted to be published. And to work with his crush-turned-boyfriend on it? If this was a dream, he hoped he’d sleep eternally.

“Really. I’m very impressed by your talent and hard work, and we could probably find an agent who feels the same. You’re two talented young men, and I know you could do big things.”

Before anyone could respond, someone knocked softly on the door to Room 33. All heads spun towards the open door, where Sabrina was standing with her fist in the air. With all eyes on her, she froze, awkwardly attempting a smile.

“Hi,” Sabrina attempted, “Um, do you think I could join you?”

“Where’s Chloé?” Alix scoffed. “Aren’t you two joined at the hip or whatever?”

Sabrina stared at her feet. “Um, well . . . something happened with the akuma, and uh, I just wanted to try doing something on my own for once. And I heard that art club was pretty fun, so I decided to stop by, if that’s okay?” 

“Of course!” M. Monlataing told her, his voice creating warmth that seemed to settle her nerves. “Everyone who wants to work on art is welcome here in Room 33! What type of art do you enjoy?”

“I’m . . . not sure yet. I haven’t really done much art before . . .”

“Then that just means you haven’t found your passion yet!” M. Monlataing held up a few items. “What do you want to try? Painting? Photography? Sculpting?”

“Maybe something like, um . . . photo editing?” Sabrina hurriedly dug in her purse for her phone, then pulled up an image of a professional football player. “I got some screenshots that were a little blurry . . . so I tried to fix them, and I think they look okay?”

Marc blinked, recognizing the player. “Is that from the recent FC Barcelona game?”

“Yes!” Sabrina perked up. “You like football?”

“I do!”

Nathaniel playfully put an arm over Marc’s shoulder, which still gave Marc all sorts of butterflies. Nathaniel was touching him? A month ago, he would’ve felt crazy for ever hoping for even a little affection. “Marc’s the jock between us. I can’t play sports, I’d break a wrist. Then I wouldn’t be able to draw.”

Marc patted his hand affectionately. “Nath, you’re ambidextrous.”

“By the way . . .” Sabrina hesitated. “Did anyone get anything from Chloé?”

Like a popping balloon, the room burst into laughter. The gifts from Chloé were seemingly now a shared inside joke among all of them. That is, all of them besides Marc, who looked around, his eyes darting with confusion. 

Nathaniel was the first to notice that Marc wasn’t laughing, just really confused. He tried to explain, but couldn’t stop giggling at how amusing the whole thing was, stammering through his laughter. “Marc—when she was reversed, you made her act all nice—and she sent us all ‘apology gifts’. Mine was a really nice pencil set.”

“So the Miraculous Cure didn’t undo that?” Marc asked.

“Somehow, no.” Marinette shrugged as if this was something she’d done a lot of thinking about. “Maybe Chloé had one of the hotel employees put in the order, so it wasn’t directly caused by Reverser or something. But either way, I appreciated the new fabric.”

“I told her to do it . . .” Sabrina began, glancing towards Marc. “But Reverser was the one who said I deserved better. So, um, thank you.”

“Um, yeah—no problem!” Marc stammered, realizing suddenly that he was being thanked for Reverser’s actions. “I don’t remember it at all, but yeah, you do deserve better than someone like Chloé. Unless she shows remorse—” Marc glanced back at Nathaniel, who nodded, having learned this the hard way, “—then maybe she’s not worth being around. And, uh, sorry I reversed your dad.”

“Ah, he’s okay. No hard feelings.”

And then Sabrina smiled, a real one this time.

As M. Monlataing got Sabrina set up with one of the art club tablets, showing her the photo editing software, Marinette set down the dress she was currently sewing and walked up to the boys, who’d started to pack up their portfolio and the hand-stapled copies of their comic book. 

“Hey, Marc?” Marinette spoke up. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Marc exchanged a glance with Nathaniel. “Oh, sure.”

The two of them stepped to the back of the art room, carefully avoiding the canvases with wet paint that stained the room with the smell of turpentine. For once, Marc was as relaxed as he’d ever been, leaning back on the sink for dirty brushes, his hood stiff against his back due to the week of disuse, while Marinette fidgeted with her hands and bit her lip, clearly anticipating what she was about to say and not in a pleasant way. 

“Is everything okay?” Marc asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine! I just—I just wanted to tell you . . .” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I read your journal. That wasn’t cool.”

“Oh.” Her tone was sincere, and Marc had honestly forgotten all about that by now. It’s not like the pages of his old journal were very salvageable—though Nathaniel had certainly tried with half a roll of tape—and it didn’t matter anyway now. They’d made something new, something together, like starting from day one. But he’d heard that Reverser was adamant about seeking punishment for Marinette’s actions, and yeah, at the time, he wasn’t happy that she got him all excited only to fumble the communication. So it was nice she was taking responsibility without pressure or request. “Thanks, I appreciate your apology. And I forgive you.”

They embraced, best friends again.

Alix cut in. “And hey—sorry that I got all mad at you about the journal thing. I still think you shouldn’t have done that, but y’know, it was Reverser’s fault that it went so far. Hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Nah, I deserved it. But thanks anyway.” Marinette shrugged, then turned to Marc, smiling slyly. “So . . . you and Nathaniel, huh?”

Marc looked down, unable to hide his grin or the blush he knew was spreading over his face. “Well, yeah . . . we got together right after the Reverser stuff. He’s been, um, great. To put it lightly.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be jealous that you got a boyfriend before me.” Marinette teased.

“Marc!” And then Nathaniel’s hand was on his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, but do you want to get started on the next issue?”

Marc turned to him, always happy to see his boyfriend’s aqua eyes sparkling with passion. He loved that passion, it burned so bright throughout Nathaniel. Sometimes his passion was too much and it nearly set him on fire, but just as fire can burn down a home, it can also bring light and warmth. And Marc hoped Nathaniel would never lose his fire. “Already? We just finished the last one!”

“Yeah, but now that Mightillustrator and Reverser are on the same team, I have some ideas. But I kinda need my writer to make them work.” Nathaniel scratched his head awkwardly. “Um, I also want to, y’know, develop their relationship a bit more.”

“Based on ours?”

“ . . . yeah. Let’s just hint at it for now though, if we’re really getting published. Like with our real names.” Nathaniel tried to explain, his awkward smile reemerging. “Then we could also get people to ship them.”

“Sure!” Marc understood Nathaniel’s hesitation. There was a reason Nathaniel had signed his queer art with an exclamation point for years. Not all parents were as accepting as Marc’s Mamá and Papa. “Do you think we’ll have fans though? For real?”

Marinette interrupted, “I know you two will! Now, you should get started on planning so I can read the next issue! I’m dying to know what happens next!”

Marc stifled a laugh. “Okay, Marinette.”

The boys took a seat at a nearby table, Marc’s new journal (courtesy of Nathaniel) opened to the first blank page. All the previous pages were filled with brainstorming, ideas, and plot threads with hardly any white space left. 

“So,” Nathaniel began, taking out a sharp pencil. “Now that Reverser’s a good guy, we have to come up with some kind of problem that he and Mightillustrator have to face. But they’re both so powerful that it’s hard to think of anything. Mightillustrator has all these physical powers, like he can make anything he wants. And Reverser’s got mental powers, being able to control people. So they’re kind of unstoppable.”

Marc nodded thoughtfully. “Right, right. Oh man, it’s probably good that Hawkmoth didn’t akumatize you too last week when I was Reverser. I think Paris would’ve been doomed if it’d been Evillustrator and Reverser.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Now we can never get upset at the same time again!”

Both boys laughed, the camaraderie between them clear to the whole room. Rose and Juleka exchanged a glance, reminded of their early relationship days. Alix glanced over, raising an eyebrow at Nathaniel that clearly indicated something, though the details were a mystery to Marc. Sabrina glanced up from her work, then back down, a small smile on her face. Even M. Monlataing tried to hide his joy for their new connection, but he was watching them from the corner of his eye, probably thinking something about young love and all those platitudes adults like to say about teenage relationships. Everything peaceful, everything at ease. And the boys had a whole story to write together— their story.

“You know what? Evillustrator and Reverser—I think they’d be a great team.” Marc said, leaning on Nathaniel’s shoulder. On cue, Nathaniel began to stroke his hair. This was real, this was home. “Just like you and me.”

Endcard: