He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Suddenly transported, suddenly looking at the glaring sunlight behind the hazy-polluted skyline, suddenly feeling a different kind of fabric against his skin. The drone of nighttime is replaced by squeaking chairs, murmurs between old suited men, and the clicks of laptops rivaling the sound of fountain pen scribbles. They're speaking English. Not French, but a faintly accented American English.

Felix feels like a stranger in his skin.

And he actually is.

His body weighs down heavily, and his eyes heavier. But he can't control the jitter in his fingers or the light bounce of his heels caused by caffeine, no doubt. Speaking in an unfamiliar voice, he excuses himself from the meeting room whilst ignoring the prying eyes and stumbles awkwardly into a bathroom.

A body swap soul mark. Just the worst. He tries to drag a hand across his face and is met with a different texture — his soulmate's hand is calloused like his, but the bumps and roughness dot along the entire palm and not at the fingertips from hours of playing violin.

What is more unsettling is the lack of metal around his left middle finger.

He sees his soulmate's face in the mirror staring back at him. At first he expects a stranger, just a normal office worker slaving away in New York perhaps. But realization settles deep within his gut as he takes in a face he's seen plenty of online, typically alongside a chaotic headline.

Timothy Drake.

Co-CEO of a multibillion company. Son of Bruce- I'm the sugar daddy of the Justice League- Wayne.

Felix hisses a curse in French.

His head whips around when he hears a knock on the door. "Tim? Bud, are you okay?"

That must be Bruce.

"Yeah . . ." Felix winces at how awkward the English feels in his tongue. He's fluent in it, he swears, but living in Paris has made the French language his solace.

He takes a deep breath and considers his options. Do I tell him the truth? Should I pretend to be my soulmate? He knows of other soul marks that are stranger. More inconvenient. And body swaps are not that uncommon. Those who are close to his soulmate should understand, right?

He bites the inside of his cheek. If he's here in Gotham City, New Jersey, then Tim Drake must also be panicking inside his body back at Paris. And he expects Marinette to notice right away.

The less misunderstandings, the quicker we can get in contact and figure out how to return, he decides. Besides, as much as he takes pride in his theater skills, he doesn't trust himself to act like someone he doesn't know.

With another deep breath, he twists the doorknob open and faces Bruce Wayne.

"I'm not Tim Drake. We swapped bodies just then." He watches as Bruce's expression shifts from shock, to a frown, to something more serious. "Pleasure to meet you. I suppose I'm his soulmate."

***

Tim thinks he has entered a hallucination.

He swears he was just in an important WE meeting. Numbers and stocks and whatnot. But in the next second, he's suddenly lying down with a book in both hands (which he clumsily drops) and there is an unfamiliar girl speaking in French while she paints her toenails.

It's a soul mark. This is his soulmate's body.

Tim inwardly admits that his French is rusty, but he still tries to listen and pretend that nothing has happened.

"So I told her, no , I clearly already gave my schedule and I did my part but she wants to call a favor just because she can't be bothered to pull her own weight and—"

The girl stops, steely blue eyes darting up at him. Tim squirms at her scrutiny, as if he isn't already in discomfort being in a body that is not his. And he can't help but wonder: who is this girl to his supposed soulmate?

" Felix ." She calmly caps the polish bottle and stretches her legs. " What's wrong?"

Tim gulps. With his best knowledge of the French language he replies, " Nothing. "

"You're not Felix," she says suddenly in accented English. He tries his best to conceal his shock. Just how observant is this girl? Or does 'Felix' have certain mannerisms, a habit that she can easily tell?

"I guess I'm not." Tim sits up, heart still hammering in his chest. "Umm, I'm Tim. This is a soul mark thing I guess."

The girl cranes her neck to peer out the window like she's waiting for something. She lets a few seconds pass before turning back to him. "You can call me Marinette. I don't mean to alarm you in any way, Tim, but you have to know that you're in Paris. Do you know what that means?"

Paris. The mere word can translate directly to trouble. Disaster. Of course Tim knows — the whole world knows. He remembers Bruce wanting to take action, the bargains with Ladybug, the agreements that Paris must be left alone with its heroes. The Miraculous holders.

"Yes." He nods once, still feeling awkward in his new body. "Akumas."

Marinette's tone is dry. "Akumas. Right. Really sorry to say this, but you have to control your negative emotions." She cocks her head. "Good thing you're not freaking out right now."

A shaky laugh bubbles out of his throat. It's just taking a while to sink in. He immediately remembers that he left — their souls were exchanged — in the middle of a company meeting and crosses his fingers that this 'Felix' person is faring well.

Tim plucks a phone from his side and carefully swipes to the front camera. He's met with a head of blonde hair, meticulously styled, a sharp jawline and piercing green eyes. Half-hypnotized, he runs his long fingertips over his face to trace each feature. There is no feeling of familiarity, but damn his soulmate looks good.

But first things first. "Is there a way I can contact—"

The phone is knocked off his hand when the ground suddenly shakes and a crash reverberates from outside. Marinette is immediately on her feet to get a closer look by the window and she mutters something to herself, lips pursed and brows furrowed.

"That would be Gigantitan," Marinette sighs. "Look, my parents always insist I go home whenever there's an akuma. I'll call over someone who will . . ." She clears her throat. "Who will stay with you."

"Isn't it safer if you stay here though?"

The question dies in the air; Marinette doesn't answer. She only paces back and forth, fingers rapidly texting that 'someone' she'll call over.

Minutes pass and Tim can hear restless stomps and the cries of a giant child from a distance. Marinette doesn't look the least bit bothered but when a knock raps on the door, she speeds towards it.

A boy who bears a resemblance to his soulmate barges into the room. " Felix's soulmate is here—wha—huh?"

He's immediately intercepted by Marinette who grabs him by the elbow and leads him outside to talk. Tim wants to eavesdrop and he can but he decides against it. Instead, he wonders where he has seen that boy's face before. A magazine? A formal event?

When the door opens again, it's only the boy who enters and Marinette is nowhere to be seen. He rubs the back of his neck and introduces himself as Adrien, Felix's cousin.

"Wow, he — I guess he really has a soulmate huh." Adrien speaks his English with a hint of a British accent. His face speaks of amusement as he studies Tim in his cousin's body.

"Did he assume he didn't have one?" Tim asks.

Adrien laughs. "He pretends he doesn't need one but oh man, I know he has this hoard of romance novels." He puts a finger up to his lips. "Don't tell him I said that though, he'll kill me."

He sits and converses with Adrien, who enthusiastically tells him more about Felix. All while waiting for the Miraculous Court to subdue the akuma like letting a storm pass.

***

Felix finds that word travels fast in the Wayne family. Within the hour of explaining things to Bruce, he finds himself sent home to the Manor under the excuse of falling ill and the other occupants of the house rush to meet him.

He is introduced to Alfred first of course, who guides him to a spare guestroom and offers food. He becomes acquainted with Duke next, who has just come home from university, followed by the grumpy Damian, Cassandra and Dick.

Felix keeps his words with them brief, brushing off their curious questions. He's more concerned about the situation in Paris, feeling the paranoia inching closer the longer he's stuck in Tim Drake's body. Finally, he manages to borrow a tablet from Duke (Bruce took Tim's phone away, citing probable 'sensitive company information') and checks if an akuma alert has gone off in Paris.

Miracle News—a joint effort by his schoolmates Aurore, and Allegra, plus support from the mayor himself and Nadja Chamack. Personally approved by Ladybug herself. It pings off akuma locations, shelters, and updates. Felix sucks in a breath as he taps on the live feed; of course, of course, an akuma just has to show up while he's away.

Ladybug . . . Viperion . . . Vesperia . . . He carefully lists off the members of the Court that he sees, facing off against Gigantitan. No trace of the Black Cat which must be a good sign. He rubs the spot on his finger where the ring would be, wondering if he should try to reach out to Marinette afterwards or Tim, who must have his phone.

No, perhaps it's not a good time.

He makes a quick search instead about body-swap soul marks after he watches Ladybug successfully purifying the butterfly. Apparently, the conditions for undoing the mark vary between soulmate pairs. Some necessitate physical contact, in other cases switches can happen randomly, in rarer circumstances, the switching still happens perpetually. He silently hopes theirs isn't the last one.

He has his secrets to keep after all.

And so does Tim—Felix isn't dumb— but he respects his soulmate's privacy. He tries not to think too much about how the Manor has gone quiet and empty later into the night. How the way Tim's body is littered with scars and marks, possessing a kind of mobility that can't be earned with the typical gym routines. Or how the Wayne family hides Tim's possessions away from him, with darting eyes and body language shifts.

He shoots off a quick message to Marinette, telling her simply that he's fine and safe and will try to get in contact with Tim who's still in his body. After that, he gives up fighting off the slumber overtaking his eyes ( seriously, does my soulmate not sleep at all?) and he's out before his head hits the pillow.

***

Tim thinks he should be alarmed by the akuma rampaging in the city, probably only a few blocks away from the apartment he's in. But he's more taken aback at how unfazed Adrien seems at the situation as the boy's just lying down on the floor, scrolling mindlessly at his phone.

Is this all normal for Parisians?

He shifts his gaze back to his—Felix's—phone. Adrien kindly pointed him to the local akuma-watch website, Miracle News, which captures a live feed of the akuma attack. The superhero team seems to be untroubled, with Ladybug seamlessly in the lead. Still, he can't help but tap his fingers against one knee.

"Class B," Adrien says out of the blue.

"Huh? What was that?"

"Class B akuma," Adrien explains, "We have classes C, B, A and S in least to most dangerous order. B's are typical akumas — they might cause large damages but nothing too bad, at least by comparison. They usually get akumatized maybe once or twice every two months."

"So you guys are . . . all used to this?"

"Uh huh. We just have to trust Ladybug to put everything back to normal."

What a burden that must be, Tim thinks to himself. But in his background research and Ladybug's brief interactions with the JL, she's competent enough. A creative mind, a strong leader, a responsible magic-wielder. Both her and her partner, Chat Noir.

Speaking of . . .

"Where's Chat Noir?" Based on the footage, only the bee-wielder and snake-wielder are fighting beside Ladybug.

Tim nearly misses the way Adrien's eyes widen for a split second. "Erm, the Court shows up in rotation. I don't know how they work it out, but not all the heroes show up all the time. Sometimes Ladybug's even MIA. It depends."

Tim hums contemplatively. "I see."

"Felix . . . what does he do during akuma attacks?" He wonders aloud.

"Eh, just waits it out like everyone else." Adrien grins, eyes glittering as he looks up at him. "He even wrote out an entire essay in a cafe that was within an akuma attack zone. I'm just here with you because you've got that soul mark thing going on like Mari said."

Tim picks up the phone. Right on time, Ladybug already has the akumatized object and is now in the process of purifying the akuma. The battle just ends like that. The live feed stops.

He leans back. Should he try to contact his phone? Has Bruce already noticed? Tam? He's also concerned about Felix possibly finding something he shouldn't if he has access to his phone and computers.

Sighing, he sends off an encrypted message to Bruce and Dick just to inform them about the situation and his location (and to remind them to not hand off incriminating evidence to Felix). He erases traces of his activity from the phone.

How do we actually undo this soul mark?

***

The next time Felix opens his eyes, he's back.

He blinks rapidly, adjusting to the bright lights and the fact that he's suddenly standing in the hallway of his university. As soon as he regains his bearings, he turns around and sprints to the room where he and Marinette have the only class they share: business management.

She's in her usual seat when he enters, gaze lifting up to meet his. "Oh. You're back."

Felix gently tugs her out of the classroom and towards a more private space, ignoring the odd feel of the hoodie and jeans Tim has thrown on for him. Even his hair feels weird, lacking the usual styling he dedicates to perfecting every morning.

"Plagg?" He whispers, patting his pockets. The kwami phases out of his bag.

"Took you long enough." The small cat stretches.

"Did he notice?" Felix frowns.

"Of course not," Marinette links up her arm with his. "What do you take me for?"

"I'm sending you in, Plagg."

Felix takes his ring and twists it off his finger, leaving an indenting mark around the base. He takes his best friend's hand and pushes the Miraculous into her palm.

She blinks up at him. "Hm? But you're back to normal now, aren't you?"

He shakes his head. "I can't take any risks. We don't know what triggers the switch or what brings us back. There's a chance it can happen again."

"That makes you benched until further notice."

Felix purses his lips. It's his gut and the hypotheses in his head telling him to be careful. "Sorry, bug."

"It's no problem." She shrugs casually and puts on the ring herself, freeing a grumbling Plagg who retreats in her bag instead.

"What happened last night? The akuma? How did he react?" They begin their walk back to the classroom as Felix forces down the unruly locks of his hair.

"Did you watch the live?"

"Yes, but—"

"I got it handled with Zoe and Luka," says Marinette. She reaches into her bag to hand off a buttery croissant to him when his stomach growls loudly. "I called up Adri to babysit Tim while I was gone—he's a bit weird, by the way. Super closed off about himself, Adri said. Is he a celebrity or something?"

Felix sighs. "Try part of the richest family in Gotham."

"Oh shit, for real?"

"We swapped when he was in the middle of a meeting. A board meeting in Wayne Enterprises."

Before he can stop her, Marinette's already on her phone, looking up Tim Drake and babbling about how he does fit his type and the utter irony of another rich kid being his soulmate out of anyone.

But apart from that . . . Felix can't shake off that something else is strange with his soulmate and his family.

He's going to have to do his research later on.

***

Tim scrambles for his phone when he wakes up. 1:23 pm. That's probably more than 12 hours of straight undisturbed sleep. He blinks, feeling weirdly well-rested for a long, long time.

He realizes he doesn't have his phone on him (understandable; if Bruce or the others knew they should be quick to keep personal gadgets away from Felix) and instead Duke's tablet is on the nightstand next to the bed. Along with a folded piece of paper.

Wait, a piece of paper?

A letter,  Tim realizes when he unfolds it and sees a neat handwriting.

Dear Timothy Drake,

I suppose we are soulmates then. If you are reading this, then we have switched back somehow. Assuming we don't know yet the circumstances of how the switch happened or how to undo it, this might not be the last time it happens. If you want to talk about it, below are my contact details:

Tim snorts. He's just as Adrien described—Mr. Perfect, overly serious, a rule-player. Reminds him a little of Damian. He also huffs a little upon seeing the postscript at the bottom:

P.S. Please sleep more and drink less coffee. I'm worried about your body's health.

He fights back the warmth dusting his cheeks. So what if Felix is concerned?

Just then, the door is slammed open with a bang, and Dick barges in, calling out Felix's name.

"It's me." Tim runs a hand through his hair. "I'm back."

"Oh? Prove it, Timmy."

"You ate Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast, lunch and dinner for five straight days last week?"

"Okay, you pass." Dick flops on the bed beside him. "Your soulmate's crazy, Timmy. He's studying literature and business at one of Paris' top universities and he's heir to the Graham de Vanily fortune, son to the famous musical actress Amelie Graham de Vanily."

"You stalked him before I did?"

"You didn't stalk him when you switched?"

Tim turns into a deep shade of red. It didn't feel right to snoop around in Felix's body, especially with Marinette and Adrien around. "His cousin was around. And there was an akuma."

"Oh, I heard about that! So he's from Paris, huh." Dick's eyes shine at the prospect of knowing more about the Paris situation and its heroes. Ladybug has been fearsomely territorial, even amongst magic users. "Your soulmate's a civvy from Paris."

"The civvy part . . . I'm not so sure."

"What?"

***

Felix grits his teeth in frustration as he sprints along the sidewalk. Benched, he's supposed to be benched still, since the switches have been happening for the past week. But this akuma is relentless — Stormy Weather has once again been held emotionally captive by Hawkmoth, resulting in a merciless blizzard on one end of the city and raging pools of lava erupting from another end. It's a class A akuma bordering on S, and Ladybug, Ryuko, Foxtrot, Viperion, and Chelonia aren't having the best of luck subduing her.

They need him. Ladybug won't go out of her way to actually call him but he knows. They need Chat Noir.

His fists clench as he runs faster. In case the swap does happen while he's in the suit, well, Tim will understand.

Tim of all people should understand.

He finally reaches the humble bakery where Marinette resides and rushes into their house, directly to his best friend's bedroom (it's not called sneaking in, technically, since her parents know he comes and goes all the time, being a regular at her sleepovers so often). Felix practically flies to the Guardian's box where his ring is still safely kept.

He barely gives Plagg the chance to speak before he says his transformation words.

He's already running across rooftops before he knows it, feeling just at home to be back in his suit after such a long time. He heads towards the Eiffel where the akuma has set up a base of sorts, ignoring his friends' looks of disbelief when he reaches the heroes.

"I can grab it. Her umbrella," he catches his breath, stopping in front of the grave-faced Ladybug. "Chat Noir hasn't been seen in public for a while. She won't see me coming if you distract her—then I'll Cataclysm it."

"Even if she's distracted, she's almost untouchable." Ladybug motions towards the akuma. "She has a barrier of lava around her and an ice shield under that."

"I can do it. I'll use Cataclysm twice if I need to."

"Okay. Let's set up a formation. Ryuko —"

"Watch out!"

Foxtrot's warning is futile as an actual meteor is hurled towards them. The team dodges away in time, but the building crumbles down and the debris shoots off from the sides, flinging them all from the impact. Felix hisses as he falls into an alley with huge chunks surrounding him.

He just blinks. Once.

Then it happens.

He's suddenly in a grandiose dining hall, spoon raised halfway to his mouth and the chatter of the Waynes filling his ears. Utensils clattering and chair screeching back, he jumps up to his feet as his heartbeat races rapidly. Merde. Merde. Why now of all times?!

The Waynes stare up at him.

Dick is first to speak. "Um . . . Fe—"

"I need to go back," he says in a rush. " Paris ." His fingernails dig into his palms. "Fly a jet. Teleport me. Zeta-tube—just get me back to Paris."

Oh, identities be damned. He and Tim were soulmates. It's not like they can keep things a secret from each other forever.

Bruce, at the head of the table, only lets his expression falter for a split second. "Felix, is there an akuma attack? The heroes—"

Felix looks at him straight in the eye. "Stormy Weather. Class A, maybe Class S soon if we don't do anything. There's fucking meteors falling from the sky. And the heroes will not have it handled if Tim is suddenly in Chat Noir's body, Batman."

***

I knew it! I freaking knew it!

Well, maybe that's not the most appropriate reaction to have when Tim realizes he's suddenly Chat Noir.

The crashes and booms and screams and the actual pulsing crimson-gray sky are all telling him that this akuma attack was bad bad. Bad enough to have Felix risk transforming to his alter ego. Tim stands up and kicks away the rubble to open up a path out of the alley.

A bit lucky for him, he's adopted some knowledge about Chat Noir's powers during his 'research'. A destructive power with one touch, agility, invulnerability, his staff that's different from his usual bō, but he'll take that over anything else.

He sees a flash of bright red and black spots and immediately comes up to Ladybug. Again, in his best French, he utters, " What is the plan?"

Ladybug gives him a deadpan look. "You swapped."

"No, we didn't."

No, shit wait. That was English.

She sighs. "I think you should de-transform—"

"No, I can help! I promise!" Tim waves his hands around. "You can trust me, I'm a hero too."

"I think Gotham's rogues are a little different from world-ending akumas."

Tim blinks at her, astonished by her nonchalance. "You—you know?"

"I knew Fe had his suspicions, but he never aired them out. I did some research myself." She shrugged. "But fine, if you're gonna be stubborn about it. Felix had this plan of sneaking up on Stormy to Cataclysm her shields and get the akumatized object. It's her umbrella, by the way."

He rolls his shoulders. "Alright. I'll try."

"Nah, you need some help, hatchling." She looks over his shoulder and beckons another hero before snatching up his staff and pulling out a small earpiece from inside. She hands it off to him. "Here. Our comms."

"Oh? They swapped in the middle of an akuma attack?" A voice behind Tim says. He turns around to see the blonde fox-themed hero smirking in amusement.

Based on that tone . . . that demeanor. Ah, is this Adrien?

"Unfortunately." Ladybug pinches the bridge of her nose, pressing on her own earpiece. "Everyone, say hi to Chat's soulmate. He says he's going to help out. Foxy, you can cast a Mirage for invisibility and go with him to sneak up on Stormy. The rest of us will distract and try to minimize the damages. Viperion?"

"No resets so far, LB." Tim hears the crackle of a different voice in his ear.

"Okay. I'll get my second Lucky Charm soon. Everyone head out."

Tim gets the hang of being in the suit (and not having a grapple) pretty quickly. It's his first time witnessing the Court in action, and they're more competent than expected — not that he underestimated them before. He can guess that he'll see that look on Bruce's face whenever he wants to adopt if he'll ever get to watch Ladybug's leadership skills.

Foxtrot nudges him on the side. "You ready, in-law?"

He takes a deep breath. "Ready."

***

The Wayne family is all in vigilante mode now. Felix is led through an opening in the grandfather clock and down into what he guesses is the Batcave. Bruce himself sets up the computer to show the live feed of the akuma attack.

He hears Duke breathe in sharply. "It—it does look bad."

"We'll set up the Zeta right now, Felix—" Dick begins but Felix puts his hand up.

"Wait."

He squints at the footage. The view is set up a bit farther this time, just to keep out of harm's way while still broadcasting. He sees blurs of the heroes' familiar colors.

And just a brief hint of black.

"We can't go there." He changes his mind. "If Gotham's vigilantes show up suddenly, Hawkmoth might shift his attention. If I come alone, it's too dangerous to be involved in the battle."

With a deep breath, he adds. "And I suppose Tim is acting Chat Noir now."

"Are you saying we will just stay here and . . . watch?" Damian asks.

Felix swallows down the lump in his throat. "I trust Ladybug. And if Tim decided he wanted in on the fight, we should trust him too."

And so they watch.

All signs of Chat Noir are gone, but Foxtrot is missing in action as well. Felix makes a guess in his head — Are they continuing with the plan I suggested after all?

Paris looks like literal hell. There are seas of flames, boulders of ice and snow. Ryuko can only do so much to counter the elements with her own, and Ladybug has burned through her second Lucky Charm. Finally, at the peak of the chaos, Stormy Weather's shields suddenly dissipate with a Cataclysm out of the blue, and the still-invisible Foxtrot snatches up the akumatized object to throw towards Ladybug.

Eyes still glued to the screen, Felix stands up. "I need to go. Can you Zeta me now?"

**

Tim puts a hand on his still-palpitating chest as Ladybug finishes purifying the akuma and comforts a devastated girl (Aurore is her name, apparently, one of Marinette's friends if he remembers correctly). The damage and debris are gone, but the exhilaration is there. The feeling of destruction right at his fingertips as he pierces through lava and a literal block of ice mingles deep in his skin. Holding a Miraculous is far, far different from throwing punches as a vigilante.

Meanwhile, Foxtrot is just twirling his flute, looking at him in amusement.

"Not bad for your first stint, rookie," Foxtrot laughs. "You already belong to the team."

"Technically, it's not my first . . ." The words escape him without meaning to.

"Was my cousin right about your nightly escapades then?"

"Fe—He really knows? "

Ladybug comes up beside them, snorting. "We're not stupid."

They find a hidden corner to detransform, and Tim hands the cat kwami a piece of cheese as directed by Marinette. The three of them discuss the situation, the akuma, and the akumatized, when Tim spots a familiar figure heading towards them.

No, not just a familiar figure, but it's himself. His body.

Within the next second, his view suddenly switches as he's brought back to his own body. He feels two hands on top of his shoulders and sees a pair of green eyes not anymore looking back at him through a mirror.

"That was dangerous," Felix rasps, brows furrowed.

"I—I handled it well?" He says, feeling warmth creep up his neck because of the weight of Felix's touch. It's so unfamiliar, yet so comforting.

Felix lets out a long drawn-out sigh and steps backward. "I believe we have a lot to talk about. It's nice to finally see you in person . . . soulmate."

***

Extra

Seeing Felix meet his soulmate makes Marinette wonder if she'll soon meet hers too. Like Felix, she doesn't have a pre-manifested mark — no telltale colorblindness, tattoos or strange birthmarks, no second voice in her head.

Not that she's actually desperate for a soulmate. Maybe back then when she was younger. She would theorize and imagine all the possibilities about her soul mark, wondering if she'll meet her better half in a sweet, romance novel-like way, or if it will be some bizarre event like her grandparents'.

But after she took on the mantle of Ladybug and became the heroine of Paris, thoughts of her soulmate were pushed to the back of her mind. Now, she doesn't particularly care if she has one or not; she can be happy and fulfilled without having to pursue a romantic relationship. She just wishes—if that other person exists— that she'll meet them after she has dealt with Hawkmoth and his villainy.

Okay, maybe she's a teeny tiny bit jealous of fated couples as she sees Felix and Tim touching shoulders next to each other as they snack outside her family's patisserie.

She sips on her milkshake. So sickeningly sweet.

She hasn't seen Felix act this soft, but she does see that they complement each other well. The two and their ingenious minds. Marinette tears her gaze away to focus on her pending fashion design assignment (what a liar Felix is for saying she won't be third wheel and what a traitor Adrien is for spontaneously ditching them).

She tries to take another sip.

The straw is gone.

No, everything's gone.

A scream rips out of her throat as she's suddenly falling in midair, whizzing past clouds and the bright blue sky. Her legs shake and her arms flail around before she finally manages to call out the words, " Tikki, transformez-moi!"

The familiar Miraculous magic washes over her and she balances in the sky with the ladybug wings that manifested as part of her suit when she became of age (along with the ability to use more than one Lucky Charm sans the countdown timer to transform back). Marinette puts a hand over her chest, breathing heavily.

What the actual hell.

Her soul mark is like Felix's. But instead of just the soul swapping, it's the entire person switching places.

**

Meanwhile, back in Paris, a curly-haired boy with a leather jacket suddenly materializes in front of a gaping Tim and a dumbfounded Felix. Before they can say a word, the boy blanches in realization and superspeeds away before launching himself into flight.

**

The gears are turning in Marinette's head as she stays in the sky. According to her yoyo, she's about halfway across the Atlantic. My soulmate can fly. They're most likely a hero. Of course, of course. When she sees a blue figure arriving and looking around frantically, her candidates are narrowed down to one.

They lock eyes. Superboy—Kon—flies up to her and sputters out apology after apology, circling around her to make sure she's okay.

Marinette crosses her arms and scrunches up her nose. "You're lucky your soulmate's also a superhero."