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#or the writer would probably want me to
drawnfamiliarfaces · 3 months
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Finja x Chase angst? 👀
oh dude their whole "relationship" is basically messed up angst lol (despite me often portraying it as cracky angst)
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I mean, we have some good angst in Chase pursuing First not because he 'loves/cares about' him, but because he selfishly desires him for his power/sees him as a challenge to get into his Fallen Warriors army. And First having to be constantly on alert against Chase, especially when he behaves like a charming honorable warrior, hiding that cunning manipulative side of him behind amused 'harmless' smiles. I would imagine its hard for First to not start to care about Chase (he can be very charming ;) ) to some degree, so there is like this delicious angst in starting to care about someone with whom morally you would never agree with. (very Prof. X vs Magneto vibe imho)
(this also could lead to some interesting spin-off angst opportunity about First being in the Fallen Warriors Army and just...existing in this weird limbo of being a target of Chase's favorable attention, but still essentially being a servant to his Master so thus really unable to trully care about/love this evil man but he still kinda cares after all these years and, like ooooooh baby thats some scrumptious angst possibility)
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Or we can have some angst in form of First, being technically 'moved on'/left only in spirit in this world and Chase, still obsessing over him all these centuries, not even realizing that he is basically pining at this point. Showing up to bother current Ninjas, Ninjanomicon and Spirit of First at every opportunity, but not being able to actually be (in any capacity) with First, besides those very brief reunions. And First, throughout the years, while still being very annoyed about Chase's continuoes presence, also feels... incredibly saddened about this man to some degree. But he still can not falter, for his duty and successors still need him and they take priority, so this weird relationship just continues on.
And like OOOOH BABIES this is just scratching the surface of any possible angst, but these are the ones that are currently circling in my mind (i want to make some comics with these scenarious) so yeah! angst! ;D
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lunarharp · 1 month
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"Found out" set in kind of a made-up chapter where the girls are in trouble, or something.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#i hate having a strong cinematic image in your mind for months..working hours on it..& at the end looking you have to be like “Sure. :/"#i'm especially unsatisfied with the beginning and the end and how i can't get eyebrows to work as i want#but i dont care any more... this is probably the comic that has given me the most trouble ever i just dont care#i barely even care whatsoever if anyone even sees this..Ugh..but at least i can move on to the next era now#i'm just annoyed i cant get out good enough my image of qifrey flinching bc he thinks oru will hit him but then he is not hit#i feel like sensei will do something along these lines. i want to see what she will do.#there are also other variations i have in my mind. i just want to know#i just don't want it to happen with qifrey on his deathbed or something. but it possibly will. I DONT EVEN KNOW.#i have another very cinematic image in my mind for something sort of along those lines which i will do soon. it never ends...#btw after this is probably my fics. yeah.... i think it has to be my fics. jasmine sort of goes along these lines#i need that space for dialogue. look - i'm a writer. this is HARD for me. so i am really glad i had the space and freedom of words#to process all the feelings. but i tried to get something out in a quick visual space too. <- me defending myself to myself at cai court#anyway going along the lines of 'Jasmine' - they talk this out and argue and cry and oru pushes the hat at him and tells him#why not just erase every memory i have of you then. That would be easier for us all wouldn't it?#they kiss and sob and kiss and lie outside in the flowers for many hours in that one. and then there's 'Deep End' where it turns out#way way way way more time and words is needed for this actually and that's upsetting for everyone.#the destruction of the hat is certainly another path to take. Can you make this work without that hat going up in flames?#something you have always had and have been clinging to will have to be destroyed. You have to lose something now. This is the crux qifrey#I CANT GET IT OUT IN ONE COMIC!!! I CANT DRAW IT OUT!!!! I NEEDED THOSE FICS!!!! PRAISE WORDS!!!! whatever im going to have dinner now
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tr4nsvesdyke · 2 months
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i truly do not think alice can possibly stop being a character bc of previously stated reasons so now my working theory is the "i'll die down here" is mostly a distraction from "i was born down here" and alice Is some kind of reborn or construct or undead or something in the way that what she Is, her Current form of life was born from whatever weird alchemist shit is going on in the OIAR and the Magnus institute
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yandere-daydreams · 5 months
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Not too sure if you keep up with jp twst updates but have you seen the new Halloween update with the fox dude, Honest Fellow? (Yes that's his name, I'm just gonna call him honest John cause his name's an adjective). I am seriously loving how expressive he is, his devious expressions are so good
i am keeping very up to date with what y'all are doing over there and so far i've been delighted by the idea that, while half of the school's named population is experiencing a prolonged hatecrime in a french catholic school, the other half will be running away to nonconsensual join a circus led by a catboy and nick wilde's humansona. i don't know enough about him to have any major thoughts, but rollo was so fun and it seems like they'll be going just as hard for this event as they did for the glorious masquerade. any event with an ortho ssr is bound to slap and i have no reason to doubt that honest fellow (because i refuse to disrespect such a brave naming choice) will contribute to that.
i don't usually read translations for events but i think i might at least find a summary or something, this time. there's just something about a deceptively charming ringleader with a habit of luring people into his pocket-reality fantasy land that feels like it would go really well with what i do here.
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pinacoladamatata · 8 months
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"if you fancy Astarion, you might want to consider therapy. He's so damaged I must have him! Enjoy the fantasy and then call a therapist. It's a two step thing and it's very important you do both." - Amelia Tyler what do your narrator eyes see? 😂😂😂
#ohohooooohoo the little random tidbits devs and voice actors have dropped about his companion arc is making me NERVOUS#just throwin out some meta thoughts here#in order for astarion to *get rid of* the tadpole; cazador *has* to die first. like i'll bet my left tit this is conditional#since cazzy is apparently a control freak he might be enemies w the mindflayers/absolute cult bc ''bleh bleh my city''#i think its entirely possible that we could ally w cazador against the absolute; this would like have to result in astarion attacking tav#im just worried it might be like; you have to at least temporarily side w the absolute if you kill cazzy?#idk! idk!#and like i do think there will probably be a 3rd option of like 'i hate both these groups kill them both' but man.#and then there's whatever is going on w his ''this soul is not for sale except in the realm of the undead'' stamp#like are we gonna have to go the there? wherever the fuck that is?#pls amelia i am begging on my knees i need a sign! of hope!#bc now the hug and hand holding in the trailer is making me think larian is trying to trick me into believing he'll be okay#only to hit me with a devastating ending(s) no matter what#idk. man. i read astarion's writer was fanes writer. idk dos2 but like i am aware of what......happened w that 'romance'#pls i need a sign larian#i am so sick of the bioware style romances! the morrigans! the solases ! the unresolved endings of it all! ENOUGH#i want closure from this i am begging#for once in my life i just want closure for a video game romance ending#i JUST THINK LIKE ideally. for me. he'd have at least 1 ending where he's not cured but lives happily ever after*#i am having a hard time picturing him cured of vampirism. tbh. but if it's possible without him immediately dying then. well hats off#its 2 AM here i need to knock it tf off and go to bed#........unless.....yall want to enable me and discuss this further#i am 1 more bad day away from writing a thesis on this in MLA format istg
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age-of-moonknight · 10 months
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“The King of Killers - Epilogue: Punisher No More,” The Punisher (Vol. 13/2022), #12.
Writer: Jason Aaron; Pencilers and Inkers: Jesús Saiz and Paul Azaceta; Colorist: Matt Hollingsworth: Letterer: Cory Petit
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#The Punisher vol. 13#The Punisher 2022#Moon Knight comics#latest release#Moon Knight#Marc Spector#The Punisher#Frank Castle#out of all the writers to possibly give me some sort of rehabilitation of the Frank and Marc relationship that I’ve been craving ever since#their falling out in Marc Spector: Moon Knight#I did not expect it to be Jason Aaron but you know what I’ll take what I can get#I’ve always thought that there was a lot they could agree on although that’s a bit of a double-edged sword in that they’re very similar#and can be a bit too much of??? a mirror perhaps for each other???#I mean it’s not like either of them particularly like themselves so why would they want to have to deal with a duplicate?#(especially with each probably thinking the other is somehow even more mental than they are)#but gosh it’s so nice#not to mention in-line with the direction MacKay’s been taking the Moon Knight character in his run#that Marc’s the one to extend a metaphorical hand to Frank#I’m not sure if Marc will ever really be able to bring himself to /like/ himself per se#but he understands and to an extent accepts himself a lot more now and that growth can extend to how he…deals with Frank#if Marc can move beyond what he has always felt was his intrinsic nature and hold on to the hope of redemption#then he can think the same of Frank#and I just think that’s such a lovely encapsulation of what I love about Moon Knight in particular:#recognizing the indwelling sin if you will but nonetheless never fully giving up on striving to be better#finally (and on a far less serious/introspective note): real recognize real#(please I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: I just want them to argue over nothing more serious than Pendleton vs. Parris Island#and to toast the names of Puller and Mattis)
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I reblogged this ask game and then failed to finish the answers to any of the asks i got. whoopsie. better late than never.
Anyway let's try the director's commentary of the train king scene from pez dispenser debris.
I love the train king intro. it's so fun and goofy. it's just got some really fun humor to it in my mind. I had so much fun writing it.
it is a completely pointless scene.
It has no plot relevance. Train king is not the chekov's gun hanging bravely on the wall of that fic. It will have no overarching effect on the plot. So why the fuck is it there?
Well, because it was fun.
Pez dispenser debris has lived in my head for at least two or three years now. Not in the exact form it is now, but it's a very old and much-adored story of mine. I was incredibly fond of it. I tried to write it years ago, and got as far as the first scene, which was originally Izuku and Mirio walking along the street and running into the bus hijacking, which led to the rogue quirk.
It was a good starting point. It's where the action actually started. But it just didn't feel right to me.
So it sat in my drafts for a long time, collected dust, and I spun my wheels on other projects for a while. I went back to it, and tried again, and the new first scene was Izuku rushing in late for the meeting with the realtor. It still didn't feel right. it gave more development to Izuku and Mirio's relationship before we hit action, but something just wasn't right.
Train King was just a silly reason i made up for why he was late. The scene originally wasn't shown, only mentioned in a single sentence. And then I decided--fuck it, it would make for a fun scene. just do it for shits and giggles.
And I had fun writing it. Which means it's probably the only reason why i hit publish on pez dispenser debris to begin with instead of leaving it in my drafts. Because I was in a state of extreme burn out when i started writing that fic, and the train king scene led me to realize what that fic needed to be for me: just something fun and silly to write.
Technically speaking, pez dispenser debris is very sloppy. There's a huge amount of pointless asides and flashbacks that don't contribute to the plot in any way. the entirety of chapter four could be deleted and it would be the exact same fic if i just slightly edited the conversation between aizawa and izuku in chapter six. I legitmately wrote chapter four, said "wow, that was pointless," and hit publish
because I liked it anyway. Like, what the fuck is the point of the backflip treaty? Dabi's extremely reluctant semi-redemption? Absolutely nothing. I just had a good time writing it and thought other people would have a good time reading it.
it wasn't meant to be """"good"""" art. it was meant to be fun, and that's what it was. I had so much fun writing my silly little flashbacks and asides. All of my fics have those kinds of background stories and scenes that exist in their "universe," and most of them never make it into the fics because it wouldn't be plot relevant and it wouldn't make for """"good""" art. With pez dispenser debris, I wanted to just give myself permission to write something fun and silly with as many pointless scenes as i wanted. And train king started that.
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dancedance-resolution · 8 months
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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?
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Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.
“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”
At that moment, Kara saw the painting.
She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.
Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.
Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.
It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”
Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.
“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.
“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”
Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.
“What’s the title?”
The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
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Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.
Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.
At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.
She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.
The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.
The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.
With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.
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The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.
But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.
Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.
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The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.
She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.
The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.
A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.
Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.
They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.
While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.
Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”
The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.
“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.
Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.
Kara watched her every step.
Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.
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There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.
After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.
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Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.
Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.
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Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.
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90svan · 1 month
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i'm not editing this because i'll write something official for it in the future but i'm thinking about van post-rescue and what leaving wiskayok really meant for them on the whole, but more specifically about like ?? the timeline of it all ?? because i don't think van went to college (at least in my head she didn't) and i don't think they immediately went to oberlin either. some stops along the way in places that didn't feel right because as much as they needed to leave wiskayok in order to "move on" i don't think van really wanted to. at least not in the beginning. and i think maybe around 30ish van somehow ended up in oberlin, thinking maybe they did want to go to school after all and the small town energy felt like something so obtainable that van could latch onto. oberlin is such a college town, in the way that i imagine wiskayok felt like a high school town, from van's perspective since most of their memories relate it that way etc etc. regardless: they don't end up going to college at all. wouldn't even know what to go to college for. i can just picture van like .. idk, visiting this old record+trinket+video shop run by some local that doesn't really want it anymore for a couple years and all the shit that van has gone through suddenly feels like it has meaning again and that's how they end up getting while you were streaming ?? which they aptly named and put their own touches on.
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gaydryad · 4 months
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stupid orthography ideas: use <ë> and <ä> for /ə/ and /ɐ/ respectively, where the double dot is essentially saying, "this vowel but the neutral tone one"
( and yes I know [ə] & [e] and [a] and [ɐ] are different heights. realistically it's probably more like /ə ~ ɘ/ for <ë> at the very least while /ɐ/ is just any open central-ish vowel. shh. its fine. I built this three-way a-ɐ-ɑ distinction and I'm NOT changing it even if it'll make the orthography easier. fuck you, me )
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the-bi-space-ace · 9 months
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not to be a downer but I am suuuuuuper worried that because Hunter is going through it and is pissed he's going to say something to Echo blaming him for what happened to Tech.
I am not prepared for that kind of pain.
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ioannemos · 3 months
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every now and then i glance at fanfic that i know is gonna be really weird just to like. reset my brain a little. there are people out there who not only thought of this, they actually wrote it and then they posted it online for anyone to read. i mean they put their name on it and everything. they allowed comments. God bless em
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tennessoui · 4 months
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So there’s a Reylo fanfic writer living her best life and making a living writing published Reylo fanfics because her agent read her fanfics and loved them. I was wondering for pure silly reasons, if that ever happened to you, would you ever want to publish Obikin fanfics traditionally and make a career out of that?
why, are you an agent who has read my fanfics and loved them?
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tragicotps · 1 year
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Young Masriel au > In which Asriel and Marisa had an argument at their Fair Isle secret hideway and Marisa is the first to cave to make up.
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joelsgreys · 9 months
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quietwingsinthesky · 9 months
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on the one hand, if post-s5 lucifer had been jess!lucifer instead, they would have been even more tactless with writing her and sam’s relationship.
but on the other hand, that means they would have gone much more horrifyingly explicit about it and I would have enjoyed that (<- likes to see Sam suffer and get kissed against his will.)
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