Tumgik
#//woah a whole 2 muses in a thread look me go
containatrocity · 5 months
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"Oooooh the traitor returns!" It's a greeting bellowed from the very back desk of Station Alpha, Duck's familiar dust-covered cowboy boots kicked up on the top of it and his hat pulled down over his face. It's almost impressive, the fact he seems to have identified Trick by little more than a sliver of a ranger uniform from beneath his hat, lifting it up and sitting it back in place a moment later, flicking the front up. "Rust's doing a sweep if you're here to annoy him about something work related. They keeping you in line down at South Station or are they letting you run riot undoin' all my hard work?" It's sarcastic, playful as it always is. Duck seems to be the only one in right now, the actual rangers likely out making their morning and afternoon sweeps of the forest or hunting on their own- the game warden often left to sit around by himself.
"It's gonna be so much colder soon! And you're a migratory bird- so it's bad luck you-" Rusty's voice chimes behind Tricky in the doorway of the ranger station, the man absently conversing with a bird tucked into his jacket, peeping softly, snuggled against the biting wind. "Oh- Hey Trick- what brings you up? Business 'er pleasure?"
"Boy you ain't had a pleasure call since ya grew into yer beergut." Duck snorts, watching as Rusty throws a pencil at his head- only to wiff, and miss by a mile. "Missed." He mocks, drumming his hands on his desk in front of him. "Mockin' you boys aside, what brings you in, ain't it your day off, soldier?"
@backmaskcd
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kbstories · 4 years
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Signification
sig·ni·fi·ca·tion (n.)
The process of assigning meaning to something.
Captain and First Mate, two years later.
(Or: Zoro adores his captain. A lot.)
Tags: Reunions, Nakamaship, Introspection, Fluff, Domesticity (!)
Post-Timeskip setting, between Sabaody and Fishman Island. Read Chapter 2 here.
***
Surrounded by tumultuous battle and the distant booming of cannons, the Thousand Sunny begins to sink. The waves churn and slosh against her hull with increasing might; glinting foam breaks across the sky in half-formed arcs and yet not a single drop touches the grass below.
The crew watches, wonder shining in their eyes. Roronoa Zoro counts, sharp gaze touching upon every familiar face, every smile that glows with shared relief, then starts over.
Nine. Nine, again.
Finally complete, the Strawhats are swallowed by the sea.
In a heartbeat, the breathless moment dissolves into the usual chaos as Nami commands their gradual descent: Usopp and Chopper screech in unison about this sea king and that monster over Franky’s good-natured reassurances at the helm and the melodic humming coming from Brook; blooming and wilting like flowers, Robin’s elegant hands crop up all over the deck where Sanji and Zoro are wrangling the sails against the ocean’s massive current–
The Sunny moves like a living thing underneath them and through it all, Luffy laughs and laughs like he couldn’t get himself to stop even if he tried.
Having his friends back is a delight in and of itself but it’s that sound that does it. Zoro can feel the rough edges of the past months knit themselves together into something nostalgic, something fond, a type of gooey-warm devotion that became second nature somewhere along the line.
Like muscle memory, dormant for a while and never forgotten. It’s good to be home.
And yeah, he’s the first to admit soft things don’t come easy to him. There is a private smile on his lips, though, one he doesn’t care to hide. There’s no reason to, not here. Above them, a school of fish swims by, silhouetted by the sun like silver-coated birds and–
“Woah, it’s huge! Is that a shark?”
–the smile turns into a grin. Zoro’s eye meets those of his captain and, before Monkey D. Luffy can utter the idea brewing in that rubber brain of his, Shusui glides out of its sheath smoothly. Luffy cackles and together they stand, with their crew behind and the vast ocean ahead.
“You ready, Zoro?”
Those three little words settle in the spaces between skin and muscle and bone and – after two long years of worrying, wishing, waiting – Zoro nods and gladly takes his place beside the man who will be Pirate King.
*
The reunion party takes days to run its course until, on the third night, even the most energetic among the Strawhats are turning to their spot on Sunny’s deck for a cozy evening. A bonfire burns brightly in their midst and, under Sanji’s watchful eye, all kinds of sausages and vegetables sizzle away on a makeshift grill. Curiously, the smoke it produces leaves the resin coating of the ship in small, harmless bubbles – arms crossed and leaning back against the railing, Zoro follows their path until they disappear into depths unknown like sticky shooting stars.
A bit of imagination and even this cobalt sky can yield a few constellations, though it would take a creative mind like Usopp’s to name them all. Their presence is soothing, regardless.
No need to look so glum, Mihawk had said, that first night an eternity ago, after awkwardly hovering in Zoro’s periphery for far too long.
It had been a clumsy attempt at comfort at best. There was blood on the cuffs of his shirt and the soot of cannon fire still clung to his coat; made vague by the darkness, it was nonetheless the kind of tangible proof that all those headlines in the paper lacked. Somewhere out there, the ruins of Marineford smoldered. Somewhere out there, his captain was hurting.
Zoro had just huffed and stared out into the void. There was nothing to say, nothing at all.
There had been a quiet sigh, and steps echoing in the silence. Arms crossed, Mihawk had stared until Zoro couldn’t but stare back, quietly surprised by the intensity of emotion burning where nobody dared to look for it.
Don’t grieve what you haven’t lost, kid. You’re all under the same sky, after all.
Still, Zoro muses, eye slipping shut and shoulders relaxing against the Sunny’s comfortable embrace. Around him, the ever-present chatter of the crew dulls to a low rush. This is better.
The transition between sleep and consciousness is so gradual that Zoro doesn’t bother to track down the moment he dozes off. Eventually, there is a subtle shift around him, like gravity itself bends and realigns towards a greater force – a silent force, and that is what makes Zoro glance up between sleepy blinks.
There Luffy stands, hand on his hat and his hat on his chest and a woven-straw brim barely covering the crater of a scar below it. The fire casts shadows on Luffy’s face (Is it doubt flickering there? Indecisiveness?) and yet they’re fleeting enough to make Zoro question what he sees, fractured as his vision has become.
Then Luffy notices he’s awake and it’s all gone with a smile. “Napping already?”, he chuckles as he hops on the railing next to him. Zoro shrugs and stretches with a satisfied grunt.
“We getting close?”
“Nope, not yet.” Luffy snickers as Zoro slumps right back to where he was, his back snug against warmed wood. Sandals flip-flop along with the carefree swinging of Luffy's feet. “It’s okay, though. More chances to listen to Usopp’s stories! He met the Hercules, can you imagine?”
“Hardly”, Zoro grumbles indistinctly enough to not disturb the starry-eyed marvel on Luffy’s face. “Did he tell the one about the man-eating plant turned island yet?”
“The what?!”
It’s impossible not to laugh at how wide Luffy’s eyes can get: Zoro snorts and gestures towards the shape of Usopp on the other side of deck, a silent have at him that Luffy almost follows.
Almost. Cheers and laughter carry over from Usopp’s loosely assembled audience, and Chopper’s astounded What, really?! proves the story being told is a good one. Even so, the motion to launch himself into an unsuspecting Usopp is stopped mid-way and Luffy bounces back to the railing.
Huh.
At Zoro’s questioning grunt, the man just shakes his head and lowers his hat to his lap. “Ah, y’know. We have time now, right?”, he says with a thread of serenity woven into his voice – one that wasn’t there, last time they spoke, and the realization that Luffy is pacing himself shouldn’t feel this monumental.
Zoro lets his gaze linger, this time: over the subtle lines around Luffy’s eyes and the hint of exhaustion underneath; over all the little scars dusting his knuckles, old and new, and the gentle back-and-forth of his thumb over the ribbon of his hat, a mindless gesture of comfort that aches, somehow.
Threadbare it has become, this most faithful of companions. The red is long washed out by the sun and the sea and hell knows what else. Gratitude registers as a warm glow at Zoro’s core, for it being there when none of them could. For weathering the storms and the tears and the laughter, from the instant it left Shanks’ head to this very moment.
“It’s looking good”, Zoro comments lightly as he sits up and rubs the last traces of sleep from his eye. “Feels like ages ago that Nami had to stitch the hat back together. After… Buggy, was it? The clown guy.”
The expression on Luffy’s face goes a bit funny at that, half-way to a grimace yet too fond to be one. “Hah, yeah, him. I’ll have to thank him next time we see him, him and Jinbei and the others.”
Zoro blinks. That… makes no sense at all. Then again, Mihawk did grumble about the clown becoming a warlord, so weirder things have happened. “Who’s Jinbei?”
Luffy smiles, then, bright and toothy. “A friend! Don’t worry, you’ll meet him soon. He’s all serious and talks about honor a lot, so.”
So you’ll like him, Zoro fills in for him and huffs to himself. That part of himself that is fiercely independent wants to argue the point – then again, Luffy’s instincts are rarely off the mark.
Another thing to look forward to, then. Hopefully this Jinbei guy likes to drink.
“Say, Zoro?”
In a bundle of rubbery limbs and rustling fabric, Luffy joins him on the grassy deck, legs crossed and hat back where it belongs. His head tilts curiously, the steady weight of his full attention one Zoro shoulders with ease. “Where did you go?”
Ah, that. It’s a question he’s heard a few times this week, along with How in the world were you first? and What the hell happened to your eye? and Zoro has no room to complain. He, too, keeps a list of names in his heart, and the question marks around their fates are a subtle discomfort but very much there.
It’s weird to think of adventure as something they can experience even when forced apart.
And so Zoro tells him, about the castle standing proud among ruins and the ship that wrecked before it even touched the sea and the day he bowed to become stronger. He doesn’t mention the tense days spent in-between, reading the newspaper near-obsessively for even a scrap of new information. That black-and-white image of his captain standing alone on a battlefield is fresh in his memory, and will remain there for eternity. “Took me a while to get what you were trying to say”, he admonishes without heat, and Luffy nods sagely.
“I know, right? So complicated… Without Rayleigh I would’ve mixed everything up.”
That confirms that theory, then. A whole library of those exists in Zoro’s mind, years’ worth of theories and questions gone unanswered and wild speculation and it doesn’t matter, not anymore. Not with Luffy sitting next to him, looking more at peace than Zoro expected, deep down.
“You did well, Luffy.”
The words are out before he really thinks them through. It feels right, though, to see surprise dawn on Luffy’s face; the pride Zoro places in his voice soon takes root in the square set of Luffy’s shoulders, too, and the strong line of his back.
Then, he grins, eyes alight and squinting with it. Like this, the signs of weariness melt off entirely and there Luffy is, a little older, a little more mature and scarred to hell but still the happy-go-lucky idiot Zoro chose to follow two years ago.
“We really made it, huh, Zoro? It felt like forever and I was wondering if I’m just dreaming or something but… We’re finally here.”
Zoro sighs and reaches over and pulls the hat down, the brim briefly covering the amused chuckle on Luffy’s lips before it’s righted again. “’course it’s real, captain. You think we’d all bust our asses to be on time for some dream? Seriously.”
Luffy is still laughing, “I mean, you were early! Everyone was so surprised!”, poking him in the cheek and wiggling his feet in delight. Zoro lets him have it for a second longer than he normally would have before he rolls his eye and gets up.
“C’mon, rubber-for-brains, there’s some sake I brought that’s calling my name. Oi, Usopp! What was that thing with the plant island again?”
And with the sound of stretching rubber and a not-so-distant crash, Luffy is gone and Usopp yells.
>>Read Chapter 2
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obsxbjoo · 7 years
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mundorkday heyo
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Preferred name:  tbh I’ll respond to any noise you make in my general direction but Inc is totally fine as well !! 
Preferred pronouns:  any ?? any,, 
 Timezone:  MST (UTC -7 or smth) ey -yodels at the top of the Rocky Mountains-
Preferred writing style:
  
hahah is it news that I don’t have a preference ?? tbh I’m super cool with any format, para, sms, dialogue or otherwise !! I actually find it a mote easier to respond to styles that are naturally shorter but thats jus bc I feel like it’s less pressure and I don’t have to fiddle with words for nine billion years pFSFSFSSS but I love em all the same !! just,, might respond faster to shorter ones just because its easier for me haaa 
Preferred writing genre:  
boy I’d love to try anything at least twice hahah //shot exploring different themes is always a treat in my experience ?? wherever the inspiration takes us ! I just believe that putting a muse into different situations can showcase different sides that wouldn’t have otherwise come to light !! does the usually distant or socially awkward muse have a chivalrous streak ? is the quiet one actually good with comforting people ? does the tough one have a way with children ? does the small one LOVE CHEESY GARLIC BREAD CHIPS ?? it’s always a discovery and I think it’s pretty great pFFFS,,, explorinn find the new things I’ll admit tho I’m all for them crack and dank memes

Genres you’re less interested/would rather not partake in:  
as a minor I’m neither interested in nor willing to write smut or excessively sexual content :’> anything else is really fair game !! 

Any other writing preferences?  
ah I guess ?? I usually prefer small text but really it doesn’t matter either way hahaha anything else is pretty Aesthetic but also time consuming so I’m like ?? wow ?? amazing but also ahahah I’m so lazy so um yeah I’m pretty minimal on formatting,, 
Favorite color: 
right but listen here every color is beautiful in its own right like yeah some are drab some are neon some are pale and others aren’t and that is honestly incredible *DEEP BREATH* tl;dr how do you expect me to choose 

Favorite/lucky number: 
uuuhhhhh,,, well idk the number 9 or 1 / 11 appears a lot in my life I guess hahahaha

A song/show/drama you’d recommend: 
a friend of mine would like me to promote Scorpion (cbs) and I’ve seen the first two episodes and it’s pretty great so far ?? either way I’ve peeked into quite a few different corners of music/show/drama tho but at the sam time I know like nonE AHAH,,, tho for real you can get me into pretty much anything ?? I always find something to appreciate pffs

Fill in the blank: “You’re always free to message me about ___!”
yelling ?? idk man for real I’m a huge chatterbox and I always want to talk to people haha !! really feel free to start a conversation with me about like,, most anything tbH,, if it’s a topic I’m not familiar with you should 100000% tell me about it ?? I’d love it :00 ( also we can always just hold a conversation in just screeching I’m down for that also ) 

If you could choose a species in Obscura that you’d like to be, what would it be? Why? 
geeeee all the species r pretty cool ?? tho bein a vampire or a werewolf is to u gh so like I honestly don’t think I could pull it off hAHAHA,,, tbh a beast blooded would be mighty cool !! I’d totally want to be a dragon :‘DDDD

What is your ultimate weakness; what makes you feel all soft and squishy inside? 
um,,, tbh ships ?? and not even just the romantic kind like give me familial ships,, friendships, hateships, platonic ships ???? I’ll just m elt inside hahahaha wow I’m super lame.,, just some kids just having to deal with each other’s existence in their lives is honestly the best,,, angst also makes me cry and hurt forever but I love it 8") 

Write the first thing to come to mind in caps:  
tHATS NOT WHAT THE FROG COLOR IS

Three random facts about you: HAHAHAH whoops I absolutely,,, s UC K at these pFF ok um,, um lessee other than the fact that I’m lame
a pair of magpies were going to build a nest in this smol conifer right up against a window in our house and like ?? yo you could see the beginnings of the twigs getting threaded through there and I was like :000 !!! hype ?? wow they chose this place to be home and I was so ready 2 take pictures of ugly baby dinos I mean cute baby magpies since it’s like I could sit on the arm chair that’s up against the window and I could have full vantage of the lil nest ??? as I was saying, hype !! bUT THEN MY MOM TOOK OUT A FRUIT KNIFE THE ONE WE CUT WATERMELONS WITH AND SAWED OFF THE WHOLE BRANCH AND THREW IT TWIGS AND ALL INTO THE TRASH AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHG -sobs softly- im just sorry for the poor magpie pair,,, I’m sorry we wasted all your hard work,,, ( mom’s explanation: this is my house so I’m not going to let them build a home on my home I was here first !! ) tho like I don’t think the magpies moved out tbh I saw the other day they were perched on our tree so ???? I’m just sad I missed out on the great pictures sob it was like a fairy tale ( I tried to talk my mom out of it by saying about how a pair of magpies were considered auspicious n all and I’m disappointed it didn’t work ?? I made a pretty good argument I feel ;v )
right so like last week we had a few slices of raisin bread from T&T ( our local Asian food supplier in the form of a supermarket eyyy ) and I was like,,, wow ??? dude how great would raisin bread french toast be like wOW !!? I’ve never made french toast before and tbh we’re like rice everyday ™ and honestly the inside of our fridge has never seen cheese or cream or pasta ( ok look I know uncooked pasta doesn’t go in the fridge but I was making a point ) and certain other western-type foods are rare guests ( a tragedy rly because I love that stuff ) bUT ANYWAY !! I was thinking about french toast and going,,, woah,,, woah woAH ??? we might actually have all the ingredients ?? we always have eggs, and… oh, half and half…? aw… we don’t have that— oH but you can make it with milk and butter ??? gasp i actually think we have like 1 stick of frozen butter from waaaay back and I’m sure it’s saved there omg this’ll work. we don’t have nutmeg but… I distinctly remember getting vanilla extract and my mom says we have cinnamon ?? I didn’t even know we had cinnamon !! wow this is going to work imma make it for breakfast tomorrow it will be great !! so cue tomorrow, I wake up earlier to get it ready ( lmao since usually I wake up like 5 mins before transit comes and toss stuff into my backpack and leave ) and,,, and it turns out we I overestimated what we had in our fridge aHAHA,,, what I thought was a stick of butter was actually yeast and there was ?? no sugar ?? I could not find sugar,,, we didn’t have milk either and I was v disappointed in myself bUT !! I still made it using soy milk and brown sugar ( it was super hard I was chiseling it with a spoon ) but luckily I did manage to dig out the vanilla extract + the cinnamon was def there, as were the eggs and salt was around. of course, had to use vegetable oil instead of butter to grease the pan as I’d planned but !! it totally turns out great and was a p good success considering a first attempt hahaha,,, topped it with bananas, crumbled walnut and maple syrup and it was great :^)))))) 
ummmmmmmmmmmm wow those turned out long hAHAHA,, uh no other interesting stories are coming to mind right away but like ?? I guess one time when I was a kid we were in Toronto I think and I,,, rushed some pigeons ( like when u try to make people flinch right ?? yeah ) some pigeons that were in a courtyard and like,,, ok so there was a lady eating subway and she was a respectable business lady or smth bUT SO THE FLOCK OF PIGEONS ALL TOOK OFF AND SHE ( understandably ) SPOOKED AND DROPPED HER SUBWAY AND WALKED QUICKLY AWAY AND WOW I FELT SO BAD AAHHAAHAAAaaa,,, either way the pigeons descended on the subway and it was never seen again,,, I still feel rlllyyy bad abt it I’m so sorry for like ruining that woman’s day sobbbbb
ohey and we come full circle aHahah,, one story about birds, another story about food, and then a story about birds and food aahhaahaHAHAA,,, pretty accurate reflection of my life tbh,,, I’m all about birds and food
oH,, oh,, ‘nother story came to mind which involves a rly majestic nosebleed but uh hmmm let’s save that one PSHH
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margueritestjust-a · 7 years
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1-5 !
Questions for Canons | Not Accepting!
1. What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it?
I don’t know if it’s a headcanon deviation from the source, or if it’s merely the way I interpreted Marguerite’s character, but I believe that A) she was always in love with Percy, even when she was acting snarky about him and B) she wasn’t “testing” Percy’s love for her by not telling him the truth about St. Cyr - she was overcome with emotion and claims that it was a “test” to save face. In fact, I believe a lot of Marguerite’s actions that audiences use to vilify her are about saving face when overcome with emotions that she doesn’t know how to process. Let’s start with the snark towards Percy. 
The book starts after the honeymoon phase is over for the Blakeneys - literally months into their marriage. Despite being the most fashionable couple in London, you couldn’t find a stranger match. We have Marguerite who is clever and charming and talented and Percy... whose chief talents seem to be superfluous commentary, bad poetry, and a laugh with the power to irritate everyone in a two mile vicinity. Why on earth would the intelligent, charming, beautiful Marguerite St. Just marry this guy? In the book, she confides in her brother, Armand, that she’s sure people think she did it for the money, but that she really, truly loved Percy for his passionate nature. And that, after she told him about the St. Cyrs, that passion dried up and that she’s left with this buffoon of a husband who does not love her and who is not the man she loved in Paris. It is, however, clear to me that prior to their argument, Marguerite loved Percy a great deal - and perhaps continues to wistfully love him (or the memory of him) and that his change in behavior baffles her. Armand, being the reasonable, level-headed (lmao) big brother he is, gives Marguerite Actually Solid Advice that basically goes, “Well, maybe if you told him the whole truth about the St. Cyrs, you two would be okay!” and Marguerite is like, “He wouldn’t listen to me about it now; it’s too late. I messed up and I just have to deal.” And her way of dealing is by making sarcastic jibes at her husband to get him to pay attention to her because otherwise, he’s much more into his fatuous, foppish friends than her. It’s the only time Percy pays attention to Marguerite (as far as Marguerite knows) and it lets her get out some of her hurt and frustration. 
Fast forward to when she tells him “I betrayed St. Cyr at the tribunal because I thought he was just going to be punished for trying to murder my brother but APPARENTLY we just guillotine entire families these days in France for one man’s crime and now I have the blood of an entire family on my soul and have been living with the guilt since.” And Percy is like, “Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” and Marguerite - who told her brother pages and pages ago that she didn’t think Percy would believe her, that she was afraid of losing him and lost him anyways, goes, “... I wanted to test your love for me.” 
What.
The conversation gets EVEN WEIRDER because Percy is like “Well, I wanted you to keep explaining yourself and you didn’t” and Marguerite is like, “I just wanted you to ask me to elaborate” and it goes on for a bit and you’re sitting there as a reader trying to reconcile Marguerite-talking-to-Armand and Marguerite-talking-to-Percy. It’s a nightmare tbh because there’s so much inconsistency. So here’s what we have to bear in mind: A) Armand is the man who raised Marguerite, her brother and dearest confidant. He has never betrayed her trust and vice versa. B) Marguerite and Percy have marital issues like woah and at this moment in time, she’s justifying herself to her husband - while worried that she will lose what little of his love for her remains. (Surprise: there’s a whole lotta love there and she doesn’t lose any of it. She probably gains some because he has a SUPER EMOTIONAL moment in the garden once she’s gone to bed where he kisses all the places she’s walked and like Percy find your chill). 
So here’s what I think - and it may be a deviation from canon, it may not be, it’s so unclear that I just roll with it and smile. I think that Marguerite loves Percy but when she tells him “Hey, so I accidentally got an entire family murdered” she freaks out internally and shuts down because How do you explain that? Omg my husband is going to hate me - see look he hates me!  and then, by the time she’s recovered from her internal panic attack, she convinces herself that it’s too late to make things right with Percy. Doesn’t help that now Percy has chosen to freeze her out because of what she told him and has nothing else to go on. So, what’s she do? Lash out. When she’s finally forced to tell him the truth and he asks why she didn’t just tell him, she doesn’t want to admit weakness - she already looks so weak and emotional and vulnerable - so she says, “I was testing you.” As if it was some kind of intentional maneuver on her part. And with most guys, this would shame them because they failed the test. But Percy is smarter than that and he calls her bluff with “I was just waiting for an explanation.” And HERE IS MARGUERITE’S GOLDEN CHANCE to tell him how scared and repentant and guilty she’s felt but instead she continues to save face as much as she can. 
Yes, she’s still prideful. Yes, this pride still leads to miscommunication. But, no, she is not some unfeeling bitch. I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Meet me in the pit. 
2. Do you have any controversial headcanons that go against what is generally accepted by the fandom? Do you incorporate this into writing your muse or keep it to yourself?
Umm... I guess one HC that I have - which is actually canon, not headcanon - is that Marguerite was never a prostitute. I’ve been seeing a lot of things in the tags that indicate people believe otherwise even though there is no canon indication that Marguerite was ever a prostitute (she was the leading actress of the Comedie Francaise and her family was bourgeois). The thing that most frustrates me about this headcanon is that people who hold it tend to A) slut-shame Marguerite (and/or all prostitutes and sex workers) and/or B) hold Percy up as a paragon of virtue for not slut-shaming his wife? Like, guys. That is literally doing the minimum as your job as a husband (and as a human being). It’s not heroic and it’s definitely not more heroic than saving innocent people from the guillotine. 
Anyways, my adherence to canon crops up plenty in threads, but it’s not something I’m like... making a point of showcasing? It’s just the facts where my muse is concerned. 
3. What is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse?
Canon - as far as I know - never addresses the St. Justs’ social status prior to their parents’ death. We just know there’s an eight year age gap between Armand and Marguerite, that their parents died when Armand was “a youth” and Marguerite was “a child” and Marguerite raised her, and that they aren’t nobility, but they’re doing well enough to be respected by all walks of society. Soooo... I’ve had to elaborate. 
I’ve HC’d that the St. Justs were upper-middle class business owners - perhaps Moniseur St. Just was a merchant - whose work brought them into contact with the nobility as well as common people and whose profit was enough to send both Armand and Marguerite to school. Furthermore, when their parents died, Armand and Marguerite would be left with a sizable inheritance and a business... which they could sell or run. It just makes sense to me.
As with the prostitution HC that’s so popular in the fandom, there’s a notion that Armand and Marguerite were born and raised in the gutter, which has no canonical basis and doesn’t really make sense with either of their characterizations. So... yeah. I had to develop that on my own.
4. Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?
Probably, but I can’t think of any specifics. 
5. What is an aspect of your muse’s canon material or canon existence that you never had the opportunity to explore but really want to?
Marguerite’s relationships with other canon characters, Percy aside. We’re talking Armand, Chauvelin, Suzanne, Ffoulkes, Dewhurst, the whole damn League. It’s a little hard to do since... like... the fandom is a ghost town, but I’d love to explore some of these relationships somehow.
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