They Might Want 'Perfect' But I Want You
AO3
Damian strained his eyes in the darkness of his apartment. The atmosphere was unusually quiet for this time of day. Normally Marinette would be buzzing about, still somehow full of energy despite a day spent submersed in a creative cloud. He didn’t even hear any of the soft music she played when she was having a particularly difficult day.
Just silence.
Concerned, he made his way through the empty rooms until he came to the door of her studio, shut tight, a dim light glowing from underneath. He knocked, and though no answer came, he could hear her crying softly on the other side.
“Marinette?”
He pushed on the door, concern growing as he met resistance, until he was finally able to get through.
The studio was a wreck, and not in the normal Marinette way. Instead of scraps of fabric and paper tossed aside in a haze of careless creativity, the room looked like a tornado had gone through. Spools of thread, pencils, paper–anything small enough–had been thrown from its place. Pages of her design sketchbook were ripped out and her mannequin was tipped over, white fabric pooling around it on the floor.
He rushed over to where she sat, curled up against the wall and knelt next to her.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
Damian reached out gently to stroke her hair, turning her face towards him.
“Please, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”
She sat up, wiping her eyes, and handed him a card that had been on the floor next to her. A wedding invitation was clipped in the middle, and he set that aside before reading the handwritten message.
Dear Marinette,
I know you said you didn’t want to hear from me, but Adrien, and Maman and Papa, thought it would be good for me to write to you. After all, it has been three years since everything that happened.
The reason I’m writing is that Adrien and I are getting married! I was hoping that you would consider making a wedding dress for me. You are the best designer I know, and I trust that you would have no trouble creating the perfect dress for me. Please let me know how much it will cost. Adrien says price is no issue, so don’t even consider a family discount!
Your wedding invitation is enclosed. Please come, and bring your fiance!
I hope you’re doing well in Gotham.
Your sister,
Marisol
Damian looked up, confused.
“You have a sister?”
“She is not my sister. My parents adopted her when I was twenty.”
“Marinette, my love, I know how hard it is to accept adopted siblings–”
“Don’t.”
She pushed him away and stood up, hands clenched so hard her knuckles were white.
“Don’t try to convince me I should talk to her,” Marinette snapped, snatching the letter out of his hands. “This situation is not the same as yours was. You don’t know anything about it.”
She stormed out of the room, cursing under her breath when her foot caught on a piece of fabric she’s thrown to the floor. A few moments later he heard cabinets slamming in the kitchen.
Damian found her there, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for the kettle to heat the water.
“I’m sorry,” she said, staring at the floor. “I took my anger out on you, and that wasn’t ok.”
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said anything until I knew more about the situation. Especially since I know you’re the kind of person who would normally accept an adopted sibling without hesitation.”
She broke out into sobs again. Damian pulled her into his arms, running his fingers through her disheveled hair as she buried her face in his chest. He held her until the kettle was finished, then kissed the top of her head and sent her into the living room while he prepared tea for them.
“I don’t like to talk about her. I’ve told you some of the story already, and wanted to tell you everything. But thinking about her is upsetting. Speaking about it is almost impossible. All my words and feelings get jumbled up.”
Damian put their steaming mugs on the coffee table, then sat next to Marinette on the sofa and intertwined their fingers.
“Start at the beginning and tell me how you got to this,” he said, kissing her cheek. “And remember that I love you, and nothing you’re about to say can change that.”
She stared off to the side, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. He reached up with his free hand and pulled her lip free of her teeth, tapping gently so she would stop. Her blue eyes flicked to him.
“You already know some of this story,” she began after a few moments of silence. “Hawkmoth held me captive, I was rescued, and we were able to defeat him shortly after.”
Her gaze returned off to the side, and he squeezed her hand, hating the thought of her being alone and afraid.
“The whole story is…a lot worse. Gabriel kidnapped me and held me in his basement next to his wife. He even faked a ransom demand to my parents, and then offered to pay it, as a kind gesture for one of his son’s good friends. He created some sort of akuma or sentibeing to study me, to find out everything about me. He took my miraculous and drugged me so I couldn’t fight back. And then after he was done studying me, he created a sentibeing to be a perfect copy of me.
“And she was. Sentinette was exactly like me, as far as anyone could tell, and she took over my life. Any differences, especially in the beginning, were passed off as trauma from the kidnapping.”
Marinette let go and reached forward for her mug, holding it with both hands as she blew gently across the top and took a tentative sip. She was quiet for a moment as she watched the little, swirling wisp of steam.
“Her goal, of course, since she was controlled by Hawkmoth, was to get Chat Noir’s miraculous. He must have learned from Nathalie’s mistakes with Sentibug, because Sentinette played the long game. I mean, I had always told Chat that I wasn’t interested in being with him, and after Sentibug, he would be suspicious if Ladybug was suddenly into him.
“So she started off keeping him at arm's length, and then slowly acted as though she was coming around, and became Chat Noir’s Perfect Woman, and everyone else’s Perfect Marinette. Everyone fell in love with her. She rekindled a relationship with my parents, because it had been suffering from me living a double life. She was everything to everyone.
“The only person who ever voiced any concern about the difference was the girl who had tried to bully me when we were in school. Lila Rossi. Gabriel had hired her as a model and a spy to keep Adrien in check, but with this plan in play, anything Lila had to say fell on deaf ears. He fired her and publicly backed Sentinette. And no one saw anything strange about that.”
She laughed bitterly, her chest heaving with a half-controlled sob, and she pressed one hand to her sternum.
“Adrien fell in love with her, and at some point she also fell in love with him. I don’t think Hawkmoth really saw that part coming, but he should have, because that’s really what was his undoing. She loved them all, and because she was essentially made from me, she felt guilty about it. And Gabriel didn’t know about my pickpocket tendencies, so she was able to pickpocket her amok away from him, and told Adrien her secret identity. Well, my secret identity actually. I think she knew that he wouldn’t trust her if she said she was a sentibeing, so she kept pretending to be me, long enough to work out a rescue plan.
“She rescued me, and then all hell broke loose because at that point Gabriel knew he’d lost. And you already know how that went.”
“Yes,” he replied. “As you know, Wonder Woman forced us to stay out of it. But my father insisted on watching footage of the battle.”
“The hardest stuff mostly happened after Hawkmoth went down. Everyone was totally shocked to find out that I’d been gone the whole time, and that Sentinette–or Marisol as she likes to be called now–had been living my life.”
She took another sip, still clutching the tea tightly in both hands, then scooted herself back. She pulled her legs up and rested the hot mug on her knees.
“I heard apology after apology for people not realizing I had been gone. And I couldn’t really be angry about it, you know?” She scoffed. “Gabriel gave Sentinette everything she needed to be the Perfect Marinette.
“She was me. For six months. Lived in my apartment. Slept in my bed, shopped at my market, helped my parents in the bakery like a good daughter. Everywhere I went, she was there. Even in my childhood home. I couldn’t be comforted by my own family because she was there. After everything that happened, my parents still accepted her as their daughter and gave her my old bedroom.
“I came back and I was a stranger in my own life. I couldn’t be in my home, couldn’t sleep in my bed or use my kitchen, or wear the clothes I made with my own hands because she was in everything.
“She took everything. All the people I loved, everything I had. And I couldn’t even hate her for it, because she was a sentibeing, with no choice in any of it.
“Adrien tried to tell me that all the love he felt for her was for me, but I could tell in his eyes it wasn’t true. He never even saw me until she came along.”
He clicked his tongue. Agreste was a blind fool, and Damian felt his ire rise at the mere idea that anyone would think a copy could ever be as wonderful as his Marinette.
“And for all that she was like me, there were some things that were so different, and that’s what makes me so angry about it. She went to my classes at ESMOD, and her performance there was a disaster. If Gabriel hadn’t helped her, she would have completely ruined my education, because somehow he wasn’t able to give her any creativity.
Her free hand waved through the air, sloshing tea on her black leggings. He removed the mug and set it next to his on the coffee table.
“That’s why it hurts so much. In six months she never created anything, and not a single person who has ever said they love me noticed. I was in a cage while she pretended to be me, and they should have noticed! They should have known the difference but they were so pleased with the Perfect Marinette.”
He pulled her to him as tears streamed down her face, rubbing gentle circles on her back. After a moment she pulled away.
“For a little while, I think people understood, and even shared, my reluctance to accept her. She was a sentibeing who helped Hawkmoth. But she is so accommodating. So perfect, and understanding, and none of it was her fault. I almost felt sorry for her, stuck being the perfect people pleaser Gabriel designed her to be. No one except me ever told her that she should try to be different.
“Eventually people tried to push me into accepting her, but I don’t think they ever really understood what it was like to feel like a stranger in my own life.”
She looked down at their hands, twined together again.
“My parents tried to convince me we were sisters, that we were almost twins because she was just like me. She was all for it, of course, but I’ve struggled to think of her as anything other than Sentinette, the person who stole my life. They kept telling me it wasn’t her fault.
“If I call her Sentinette, they all get upset because she chose the name Marisol. And fine, I can understand that, she didn’t choose to be created and she should be called by her name of choice, but she chose a name that is so close to mine. For months I couldn’t even stand to be called by my own name.
“I felt guilty for being angry, and couldn’t be near any of them. So I moved here to Gotham.
“And now she’s sent me this request to make her wedding dress. And please believe me, my love, when I say that I am over Adrien falling in love with her because I am. I hope they’re happy.”
She pointed to the table, where Damian saw the letter, crumpled into a ball.
“But what she’s asking is for me to make her my wedding dress. She wants me to take that one thing that makes me different from her, and use it for her benefit, when she’s already got my whole family. When every time I look at her I am faced with the fact that no one who loved me could see that I was gone.
“And I’m so angry that my parents are still trying to force me to be her sister. It’s been three years and I still don’t want to be her sister. She only exists because someone kidnapped me and put her in my place. She’s not my twin. We weren’t raised together. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to be forced to be a family with her. My parents, and everyone are constantly taking her side, because her existence is not her fault, but damn it, it isn’t my fault either!”
“But she’s so delightful, no one ever wants to hear that. They just want me to move on as if none of it ever happened. Be one big happy family, pretend as though they don’t all prefer her over me. And I can’t do that.”
Marinette finally turned to look at him, more tears streaming down her face.
“I have been so scared to tell you, and even more scared of you ever meeting her,” her wide eyes lending credence to her words. “I believe you when you say you love me. Everyone else who has ever met her prefers her over me. She was made to be the Perfect Marinette and I just can’t compete.”
They sat in silence as Damian thought through his response. After a moment, he noticed her breathing becoming a little bit erratic, so he pulled her back into his arms.
“Breathe with me now, Marinette,” he said, gently stroking his hand through her hair and breathing in a deliberate pattern. When her body relaxed into his, he settled her into his lap and leaned back just far enough to see her face.
“My love, I understand why you’re afraid, and your fears are perfectly reasonable considering the extraordinary trauma you experienced. Please allow me to reassure you of several things.
“I love you. I love that you stutter when I fluster you, and the way you turn red when you’re angry, and that despite your tendency towards pleasing people, you never let me get away with any of my bullshit. I have no interest in a,” he raised his hands to gesture, “‘perfect Marinette’ because your imperfections are what make you you, and I like you just as you are, thank you very much.”
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“Based on the contents of that letter alone, she seems exactly like the sort of self-absorbed imbecile that I can’t stand to be around. When I take into account the story you’ve just told me, then I can assure you, without doubt, that if I ever meet her I will never see her as anything other than the person who has hurt you so deeply.
“However true it may be that her existence isn’t her fault, she still hurt you. She continues to hurt you even when her actions are clearly within her own control. And I could never like someone who has hurt you.”
Marinette sobbed, and threw her arms around him.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a few minutes, pulling away to wipe her face. “I got your shirt all snotty.”
“Tt. You’re the one who cares about clothes, not me. You can get snot on all my shirts if it means I still get to keep you forever.”
“Forever sounds nice.”
@maribatserver
