Chapter Text
“So, you’re sure this is a good idea, boss ?”
“It’s the only option we currently have that won’t raise too many questions, Jagged.”
The rockstar nodded, though he frowned as if something was bothering him.
“After the last time I was there with that crazed fan that nearly killed everyone after he was akumatized, I ain’t so sure that I’m safe.”
Bruce smiled. He’d been expecting this. People usually forget that Jagged was smarter than he looked. They glanced at his bright, warm personality and assumed that it was all real. They overlooked the serious side of him that was selfless and protective. Instead, they got a fake personality that did nothing but make them grin and laugh and, while it was all real, they just assumed that he was a few fries short of a happy meal and did nothing but joke around. They didn’t see the bigger picture.
Bruce did. It’s what made them friends in the first place.
“I believe I have a solution. My son, Damian, may not be the most…emotionally stable. But believe me, he’s your best bet with my other children away on their own personal endeavors. I trust him with my life. He’ll work as a bodyguard of sorts.”
Jagged frowned, obviously remembering his less than stellar last meeting with his son.
“And you’re sure this is a good idea?”
“Absolutely not. He’s trained and I fear if he were to get akumatized it would give the local heroes a rough time.”
Jagged’s frown deepened and Bruce wondered briefly if the man would turn down the offer.
“Fine. But only because I need someone I can trust who is anti-social enough to not let crazed fans get in the way or hurt others. That and him not being the biggest fan of people might actually prevent him from being akumatized if he avoids them.”
Bruce sighed briefly in relief before smoothing his suit out like he was brushing away a few nonexistent crumbs. He stood up with a dramatic flourish before holding out his hand for a handshake.
“Then I believe we have ourselves a deal. You pick a time and we’ll start then.”
Jagged tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes briefly at him.
“I’m only doing this because my niece lives there and refuses to leave. This is not just business, this is family. You of all people should understand, right Bruce?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have offered to bring Damian if I didn’t know it was completely serious. Besides, this is a good chance for him to get out of Gotham for a little while. For a break and possibly work on his people skills. He may not like being around others but it’s a needed skill that he doesn’t quite yet have.”
Jagged laughed that airy laugh of his before he finally took Bruce’s outstretched hand and shook it firmly.
“Obviously. Boy needed to get out. Maybe he’ll like my niece?”
“Hopefully. He needs friends, ones that don’t have him threatening them every few seconds. The only one he’s got is Jon and I think even he has a hard time keeping Damian in line. How old is your niece anyways?”
“She’s about fourteen? Almost fifteen I think? She’s been designing for me for almost a year now so yeah, almost fifteen sounds about right. Damian’s, what? Six years older? They’ll be fine. Actually, I think she’d qualify as one of yours. She’s got the black hair and blue eyes and everything. Remind me to not let you meet her, yeah?”
Bruce chuckled softly.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Words were a funny thing, Marinette realized. They were a way of communicating. Ways to tell others you were happy or sad or angry or in love. They were a way of warning and a way of promises.
And yet, they were also a way of hurting, of lies, of manipulation, and of fear. They could be turned against you and people could be lured into a vicious web of what they wanted to hear. If that vicious web just so happened to be painting her as the bad guy, Marinette had no qualms with it. It made things easier. It made it easier to get away to fight an akuma. It made it easier to not trust everything she ever heard. Now, because of it, she never took anything for face value.
It was not the most ideal, not in the slightest. People’s first instinct when something wrong happened was usually to point fingers in her direction and scream and cry and yell and accuse when she’d had nothing to do with it. Even when Lila never opened her mouth against her. Just last week Rose had tripped and fell, dropping her little jar of glitter everywhere on the classroom floor and despite not even being on the school campus, she was blamed. It was an annoyance at best but a brutal civil war within the classroom at worst.
It was always a bad sign that she’d be having a more than long day if she entered the classroom and was greeted by nothing but sniffles before the classroom erupted into chaos. It was always a bad sign when Chloe would come sauntering in with that victorious little smirk of hers before sitting herself right beside Lila, Sabrina, and Alya.
Okay, she was never really friends with Lila or Chloe and Sabrina but they were still a thorn in her side. It was Alya who was the worst one. Marinette’s been on the receiving end of Alya’s abuse, both physically and verbally. And to think, once upon a time they used to be friends. They used to share secrets together. Heck, Alya even knew her identity. But that all stopped when she’d begun to believe Lila and started to slander both her civilian and superhero name on her blog. How she’d subtly hint at both of them being the same person and how they were incredibly fake people. Marinette quickly confronted Alya on the matter, only to be left with a broken nose, a bruised ego, and an irreversible crack in her friendship. She’d confronted her again, with similar results. Over and over the process continued until finally, she’d gotten tired and put an end to her toxic friendship, ignoring the cries and pleas for forgiveness on Alya’s part. Soon, the entire class was in on her ‘selfishness’ and cut off the friendships. None of them realized that they weren’t exactly friends to begin with. It was mostly just them asking for free stuff and their only offer was to support her creepy endeavors on Adrien.
Marinette had no choice but to go to Su-Han for a solution. It was drastic, but the older man helped her with a sobering frown on his face before he worked his magic. She had no idea what he did, but Alya suddenly forgot her identity and seemed to forget about her hero life all together. She turned the Ladyblog into the Lilablog without so much as a second thought. Marinette only wished that he had erased her memories of her civilian life too, but that would make everything so much more suspicious.
Things worsened and people changed. Her parents, well, Marinette tried to keep them out of it as much as she could. They were already busy enough with the bakery as it was. It didn’t help that she did nothing for them except ask for money each month for supplies so she could design. They didn’t need time away from the bakery to worry about her, they already lost enough needed money at her hands anyways. It was why she started commissions. So she could earn enough money to pay for it herself. Her original website was trashed by her once most trusted friends but Marinette supposed that she was stubborn and just made a new website. More anonymous. More classified. She became a designer of her own name. MDC. Sure, it gave away her initials but she wasn’t that well liked or known to begin with. And who would believe that the girl who stole another girl’s designs would actually be a nationally loved designer? Really, it was a stroke of genius on her part.
And that’s what got her here. Talking with her honorary uncle, Jagged Stone who wanted to commission her for something new. He was the only person who knew of her alternate identity as a designer. In fact, he’d been the one to tell her to pursue her dreams even when no one else seemed to believe in her.
“Marinette, love, meet my new bodyguard, Damian! Damian, dear, meet my honorary niece, Marinette! She’s amazing, you’ll love her. Marinette, eh, he’s okay but try not to flirt. I know you have people falling at your feet but this one bites. Or stabs?” Jagged glanced at this Damian character briefly for confirmation but the guy merely scoffed and turned his head.
Marinette agreed with her uncle. He was okay. Untrusting, obviously, and way too stiff but she supposed that it was better than letting just about anyone come in and get all cozy or threatening with her uncle. Marinette nodded at him in greeting and he nodded back and left it there. She turned to her uncle with a small smile and grabbed her sketchbook from her bag.
“You said you wanted another outfit from me? Anything specific?”
Jagged grinned widely and a dreamy look entered his eyes.
“Well, love, I finally popped the question to Penny and she actually said yes! You have that unique touch of yours where you match your designs with someone based on their preferences and personality and I was wondering if you could make a suit for the big day? Penny asked if you could do a little something for a dress, yeah?”
Marinette's smile widened and she quickly fished her pencil from her bag.
“Oh, congrats! I can’t wait! You have no idea how long I’ve known you had the ring!”
“So you’ll make the dress?”
“Obviously. You're my uncle.”
“And you're the maid of honor.” Jagged said with a cheeky smile and a teasing wink.
Marinette gasped excitedly and bounced a bit in her seat, already beginning to sketch out a few ideas.
Fang waddled into the hotel suite with a big toothy grin on his face. Snout? Face. The crocodile was more human than anything. Fang plopped himself right at her feet before turning over on his back in a way of obviously wanting belly rubs. Marinette reached down briefly and pet him and out of the corner of her eye she could see Damian’s incredulous and confused expression. She quickly retracted her hands when she felt her notebook slip from where it was positioned on her lap and caught the book before she continued to sketch.
Fang whined loudly in response and Marinette giggled lightly when he turned over once again and laid on his belly and began to do a weird combination of crawling and sliding on the ground as a way of rubbing his own belly. The crocodile obviously wasn’t a huge fan of it compared to actual belly rubs and quickly made a beeline to the closest person. Damian, to his credit, only blinked at the large crocodile who rolled over.
“Go on, believe me, he doesn’t usually like people.” Marinette said with a raised brow, urging the guy to give her uncle’s pet the belly rubs he was craving. If he didn’t get them sometime soon, Fang would likely get angry and begin nipping at them lightly in the ankles. Not enough to truly hurt them enough to send them to a hospital but enough to hurt or draw a bit of blood. It was a bad habit of his but it was better than him going berserk.
Damian reached down and lightly began to rub his belly. Fang seemed to purr in response and Marinette smiled lightly once again.
“Anything specific? Traditional or something more unique? What color?”
Jagged seemed to mull over her words carefully before grinning once more.
“You know me, Mari. Unique. As for color, maybe a dark-”
“You want dark purple, don’t you,” she asked with another giggle, “One so dark people think it’s black. That way it's both unique and traditional and people too far to get a closer look won’t notice it. Does that work?”
Jagged nodded excitedly and gave her a thumbs up.
“You know me too well. Could you get a few sewn on patterns there, you do those little things so well. Preferably on the cuffs or collar.”
Marinette nodded, writing down a few notes before finishing the rough sketch. She turned to the next page and began to do a more refined version of the little pattern she had in mind. She turned the book around and handed it to him so he could get a closer look at it.
“It’ll be a bit more fitting but I already have your measurements so it’ll be no problem. Anything else you wanna add or think I should edit?”
Jagged scrutinized the sketch silently before nodding to himself.
“No. As I said, you specialize in making your designs unique and you know me far too well. This is gorgeous. I love it! I’ll set up a meeting with you and Penny some time next week. The wedding isn’t for at least a few months so you should have time to design and make it and not be too sleep deprived.”
Marinette nodded with a grin before grabbing her bag and getting up to leave.
“Where are you going, love? Fang needs his weekly bubble bath. I unfortunately have to be somewhere for a few days and gotta go. Now. You don’t mind Fang-sitting for me, do you? I’ll give you your money’s worth if you finally accept payment from me.”
Jagged was stressed. Worn thin. Not even his bright personality that he used for the public could hide it. He wasn’t just asking for some small favor, he was asking to take a responsibility off his shoulders.
She did suppose she felt the most responsible for things she cared about so she understood why he was asking her. Someone he trusted.
“Of course I’ll look after him! Let me just tell my parents real quick and give them a heads up! And you’re my Uncle. This is free. Save your money for the wedding.”
“Fantastic. You’re a lifesaver. Literally. After what happened to his last sitter, I’m afraid to get a new one.” Jagged said, a shiver making its way down his spine.
Marinette giggled lightly before putting her sketchbook into her bag and leaving it on the plush couch. Getting up, Marinette silently led Fang to the large bathroom and got out the materials for his bubble bath. She could hear Damian and Uncle Jagged talking lightly from where she stood before she turned on the water for the tub, effectively silencing everything else around her. She turned the water to a lukewarm temperature before adding in the soap that didn’t hurt his scaly skin to make the suds that Fang loved so dearly.
She quickly flicked her wrist, a sign that it was okay for the crocodile to crawl his way into the bathtub. The crocodile jumped in and landed with a loud splash, getting everything wet, though Marinette wouldn’t trade the large grin of his for anything in the world. Fang was happy and was blissfully unaware of the dangers of the world. Unaware of the dangers that the rest of the species faced.
It was sad, Fang was out here living the life most people would kill for and the other crocodiles in zoos or in their natural habitats were barely surviving. He was even living better than most people. It wasn’t his fault, Fang didn’t know any better. It wasn’t Jagged’s fault, he likely fell in love with the idea of having a crocodile and Fang in general as soon as he saw him.
It wasn’t anyone's fault really. Well, except maybe the cold grasp of fate and its pettiness.
Damian stared after the girl’s retreating form. He would’ve scowled had he not seen how professional she had been. The only time the conversation went off topic was about Fang, Stone’s pet crocodile. Other than that, she strictly kept the conversation about the commission her Uncle had asked her to do instead of creating small talk with him or getting distracted.
He’d gotten a brief glimpse at her work. It was good. She wasn’t an artist who specialized in creating art relating to the artist’s surroundings and kept her talents to clothing. He thought it was at least half-decent. The thing that had gotten his attention was her apparent talent to design and later create what she had put on the paper. It was definitely talent if he was right about her. Jagged Stone had only been using one designer for about a year, which happened to align with when he and the Dupain-Cheng girl had first met. If he remembered correctly from Drake’s excited rambles, the girl was most likely a designer MDC. That made sense. It was obviously her initials.
And that’s when he realized that no, Jagged did not have anywhere to be.
“You lied to her. You have nowhere to be, do you?” Damian asked, a brow raised as he stared accusingly at the man.
“No, I don’t. But she needs a break. I already know she’s done all of her school work so the only thing she has to worry about is the commission and I want her to be awake for that.”
So, he wasn’t the only one who noticed the bags under her eyes. The ones oddly similar to Drake’s when he went days without a wink of sleep? It was sad but unfortunately common among teenagers. Although, work was usually bearable and the only reason why it wouldn’t be is if they procrastinated and got distracted but acted like they were doing their work.
It was common. Damian had gotten used to seeing people struggle to stay afloat among a high school, even a middle school schedule. From what he’d seen of Dupain-Cheng it seemed out of character for her but not completely impossible. The girl obviously wore herself thin but Damian wasn’t exactly sure it was from school work. Perhaps he should research her a bit? Or get help from Barbara for the research project?
Damian nodded at Stone who merely quirked his eyebrow. He could see the untrusting look in her eye, and he knew that it wasn’t just something to do with the Hawkmoth situation, she’d met her honorary Uncle after the supervillain had arrived. It was something that ran deeper, something far more personal. It was a mystery that Damian wanted to solve. From the sounds of it, Dupain-Cheng would be around Stone and therefore himself a lot. He may as well ‘make friends’ with the girl. His father had said something about how friends are much easier to get good, reliable information on then research. He understood. People faked their information, especially in Gotham, all the time.
He may as well try to at least be more civil with Dupain-Cheng than he was with most others. It certainly helped that she was the one with the most experience and had the most knowledge on Hawkmoth. He’d go to the heroes themselves for information but from what he’d of it, if Hawkmoth knew a member of the Justice League or someone related to a member of the League was in Paris, he wouldn’t lift a finger so as to keep suspicion away. He’d already done it with Booster Gold and Green Lantern, the idiots who came to the city and publicly announced their arrival.
He only hoped he had better luck.
“So, you draw?”
Marinette nodded and glanced at Damian through narrowed eyes.
“I do. Mostly designs.”
Damian raised a brow at her as if saying yeah, obviously I knew that already . Instead of saying what was on his mind he turned to her with a small frown.
“You’re good at it. I myself prefer to draw realism. Perhaps we could swap notes?”
What was he getting at? Bragging about a talent and offering to make her better? Sure, maybe it might help with her designs a little bit but she focused on clothes, not making a replica of what she saw, she personally found it a little unoriginal and uncreative. Yeah, maybe she did get inspiration from what she saw around her, but she didn’t copy it onto a shirt. She didn't mean that realistic art wasn’t creative or pretty in its own way, but it just wasn’t her style.
It was just like Lila all over again. Pretending to be good at something and slowly lure her into a trap. How unoriginal, just like the art he supposedly created. Until she saw it for herself, she wouldn’t believe it.
“Thank you for the offer, but I am a designer and don’t have a need for drawing realistically, let alone from someone who’s art I have yet to see.”
Damian scowled at her and his nostrils flared up in anger. She briefly feared he was going to attack her or attract an akuma but before terror could truly set in, he cleared his throat and smoothed his expression into one of indifference. He picked a little at his uniform, as she liked to call it since he did nothing but wear turtle necks and skinny jeans. He picked and prodded at a slight tear and Marinette quickly realized that despite his uniform being immaculate without a speck of dust in sight, he apparently didn’t think so.
“If you keep doing that, the thread is going to snap.” Marinette piped up from where she’d been sewing on that little pattern for her Uncle’s suit. It was a miracle she’d almost completed it at this point. A few finishing touches and one last fitting should be all that she needs to finish it so she could get an idea for what Penny wanted her dress to look like.
Damian glanced up, a light blush dusting his tan cheeks before it faded back to its original color, the only traces of being embarrassed left behind were his pupils that were slightly larger than normal.
“Fine. But the next time I see you, I’ll bring my notebook. I would prefer to understand how my employer’s niece who comes over quite often thinks like in the case of being at risk for an akuma.”
Marinette flinched slightly because yeah, after everything that had happened in her life, she was probably the most at risk for akumatization. It certainly didn’t help that for some odd reason Hawkmoth seemed to like to target her specifically. It was why whenever she’d calm down from one of Lila’s attacks someone else would still be pissed off enough to get akumatized which frequently put her in direct harm from an akuma. Marinette just wasn’t sure how good Damian was at fighting or what his technique was. Similar to her mother was a pretty good guess. Both held themselves in an almost identical fashion, legs spread apart and weight distributed evenly across the body. They were both martial artists from the looks of it. And based on the scars, her Uncle’s bodyguard seemed to also know how to wield a blade. He was well experienced at both of them too from the looks of it.
It was better than Adrien’s bodyguard. The poor man was deaf and likely didn’t receive proper training. He just ran in head first so as to protect his charge who unfortunately was not the saint everyone believed him to be.
Marinette nodded at Damian, letting her eyes drift from between her sketchbook to him every once in a while. He was stiff, far too stiff for someone who was barely over the age of twenty. Perhaps trust issues? Uncle Jagged had briefly mentioned he was from Gotham City where no one did anything trustworthy and only worked on their own reputation. People who stabbed their friends in the back on a normal basis. It sounded like she was fit to live there. Maybe not for the whole lying and manipulation thing, although she was experienced on that quite well with how people used it on her and how often she’d lie so she could get away as Ladybug, but it sounds about right when she realized that everyone treated her that way. Like she was nothing but dirt on the ground. They’d stab her in the back, let her body bleed out, and trample on her with nothing but insults making their way out of their mouths only for them to ask for something new. And she’d decline them and the process would start all over again.
Was it violent? Was it messy? Yes, but it was exactly what it felt like. And each and every time she thought about it, tears pricked at her eyes.
Mariette turned away, excusing herself to the bathroom and ignored Damian’s worried cries.
He was probably just like the rest of his people from his hometown. Liars and fakes. She was used to it. She ignored people like that now, just like Adrien wanted her to. It wasn’t like she had a choice anymore, no one ever listened to her and took everything she said with a grain of salt. Damian’s cries of worry were fake. Even if they weren’t, she couldn’t afford making another friend again. It was a miracle she still had Kagami and Luka by her side, especially with how Kagami’s mother was barely allowing their friendship and the discrimination Luka received at home from his sister. Poor Luka, she mused, having to deal with his sister feeding him repeated lies and his mother’s love of freedom that prevented her from sticking up for him, believing that it was just his problem to deal with.
Marinette liked Anarka. She was fun and she didn’t listen to rumors. Her only problem was emotional neglect. She reminded Marinette a bit of Madame Bustier and Monsieur Damocles. It wasn’t an ideal situation for anyone, not even Juleka who was unfortunate enough to believe the lies.
She locked the bathroom door behind her, not even caring if anyone could hear her cries behind the door.
“Dammit! This is exactly what I’m talking about. I barely know you, how the hell am I supposed to stop you from attracting an akuma?” Damian’s worried voice said from behind the door. She could hear the doorknob jingling and swiveling with each turn and it barely registered that he knew how to pick locks.
Marinette let her shoulders shake with sobs for a few more seconds before she was finally able to calm herself down, silently surprised when she found herself being pat encouragingly on the back by Damian.
Marinette wiped the tears away before pulling herself away from the guy’s weird embrace. She paused slightly, before looking up to make brief eye contact and quickly glancing away.
“It hurts to bottle up your negative emotions. One day they’ll just pop right out and you may never truly get better. I’ve learned that it’s better if you can let your emotions out in small bursts and quickly calm down before an akuma can come. It’s the only thing that’s prevented me from getting akumatized at this point.”
Damian blinked at her and he seemed to slowly go through each word carefully before nodding.
“I can see how it can help. Though it would be unfortunate if you were unable to calm yourself in time.”
Marinette glanced at her phone, taking note that if she didn’t leave now she’d be late for dinner.
“Yes, well, it’s a risk I have been forced to take.”
Marinette left the bathroom, turning behind her to stare at Damian with a pained smile before grabbing her bag and opening the door to leave.
“Tell Uncle Jagged that the suit is almost complete and I’m just about ready to talk with Penny about the dress. Thank you, I guess. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Marinette left before the green-eyed man could respond and she quickly made her way downstairs. It was a miracle she had yet to run into Chloe yet, but she guessed that even her luck had to run out eventually, not like it hadn't already.
“Dupain-Cheng, fancy seeing a little bottom-feeder like you here. Don’t tell me. The only reason you’re hear or even at our school is because you’re sleeping with one of Daddy’s customers, am I right?”
Marinette flinched lightly before glaring lightly at the blonde.
“No, I’m actually here for catering,” Marinette said through gritted teeth, “My parents knew that I was going to your father’s hotel and asked if there was a catering gig my parents could do. I was just about to ask the head chef.”
“Oh, head chef? You mean Alya’s mom. I thought the two of you were best friends. Whatever happened?” Chloe teased, a smirk making its way across her face. It really just hurt how she and Alya were on a first name basis when she called everyone else by their last name.
Marinette clenched her jaw even tighter as her glare deepened.
“I have no idea,” Marinette lied, “Honestly, I don’t even think we were friends in the first place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk with her mother about that catering gig.”
“Oooh. I’m sure Alya will love to hear how you two were never friends.” Chloe’s smirk seemed to get wider if that was even possible and the blonde only seemed to get more smug by the second. Yeah, that was a mistake on her part and could’ve handled it a lot better.
“If you have read the policies of your father’s hotel, Miss Bourgeois, you would know that bullying is not a condoned behavior here. And, as the bodyguard of her honorary Uncle, Jagged Stone, you can very well bet that I’ll be filing a formal complaint and my employer will be staying at a different hotel.”
Marinette flinched, turning to see Damian standing behind her with his usual scowl in place. The only difference, though, was that the fire in his eyes seemed more than pissed and Marinette was suddenly glad that he happened to be there.
Chloe paled, though the victorious smirk of hers never once left her face.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure Daddy can buy Jagged back and have you fired.” Chloe sneered, waving her perfectly manicured hands dismissively.
Damian looked disgusted, a brief look of rage taking over his face before he too seemed to smirk, making Chloe pause in confusion for a moment.
“Well, considering that Mr. Stone hired me directly from Bruce Wayne himself, I’m sure you’ll have a tough time firing me, especially with how the Waynes fund this hotel and your father’s campaign but also have a five star hotel owned by them right down the street.”
Chloe almost turned ghost white and Marinette was sure that the only thing preventing her from being completely pale was Marinette’s little comment from earlier and the fact that her face was caked in makeup.
Damian glanced at her, his expression softening lightly before he turned a glare of his own at the blonde who quickly ran away sobbing, smearing her makeup hideously across her face.
“Is that why you’re so untrusting? You’re being bullied and afraid to get close to anyone?”
Marinette flinched, knowing that he was completely right and nodded, wiping her wrist against her nose as to clear the snot beginning to run after she noticed she had begun to cry again. She hated all the eyes staring at her as she did so and ignored the whispers that quickly followed. Damian’s face softened even more, almost like his scowl had been wiped completely off his face but she could still see the burning rage behind his eyes.
“I am confident that after this experience, Mr. Stone will be changing hotels. He’ll likely text you the details later. Perhaps I should take you out for coffee so we can continue our conversation from earlier?”
Marinette nodded, not really thinking at the moment. It had been so long since anyone stood up for her that wasn't Kagami or Luka and it felt nice .
They both parted ways after a few seconds of him staring at her worriedly, probably fear of an akuma coming to akumatize her. Neither of them noticed the three pairs of eyes watching them as Marinette went to Alya’s mom in the kitchen.