So a lust ring demon (?) can easily have a better relationship with a silly clown and love him no matter what, even if he's ugly af ???? Meanwhile a prince of hell be going through wattpad shit with some mf he only met once like 25 years ago. And they still wanna say Stolitz is cute 💀
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I think the main reason why Lokius makes sense to me is because at their core, Mobius and Loki are both lonely people who have been looking for a meaningful connection their whole lives and found it within each other.
Mobius is the first person who not only believes in Loki but fully embraces the mischievous side of him. He doesn't want Loki to change. He likes and accepts Loki just the way he is - something no one apart from Frigga, perhaps, has ever done.
Meanwhile Loki is the first person who listened when Mobius talked about the things he's passionate about. And not only that, he also remembers. He's helping Mobius live rather than just exist, thus giving him the opportunity to become more than a TVA agent.
Loki is Mobius's spark and Mobius is Loki's home, and no matter what story Marvel is trying to tell here, I think that's beautiful.
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Villainess AU update~
Part 1 of another comic :)
Marinette’s feelings are?
Previous | Beginning | Next
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I TOLD YALL I WAS COOKING >:DDD
Finally got around to finishing what I had planned as a Valentines post, ignore the fact that it's march now XDD
This is a follow up to this post I shared around mid-february in honor of my two favorite lovebugs ;p
If you thought they couldn't get any cheesier, you were dead wrong-
Vanessa is holding back the very strong urge to BITE BITE BITE BI-
(also if it wasn't clear, here's the dialogue for the last page XD)
Damien: Huh.. It's like.. dough..? So soft...
Vanessa: Yeah...
Damien: ...You wanna make out?
Vanessa: Yeah.
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If he were to be true to himself, which he generally isn't when it comes to this shit, Derek knew he was fucked the very first time he met Stiles Stilinski—no, actually, that's not entirely accurate. It was before that. He was fucked the second he smelled the kid's unique scent hitching a ride on the damp breeze that cut through Beacon Hills preserve on that fateful day, just over two years ago, when Derek stood on his family's land and tapped a claw against the plastic casing of the inhaler he'd found. The inhaler he'd sniffed out from the undergrowth in the middle of the night. The inhaler sitting inside the pocket of his dead Dad's leather jacket that he'd recovered from the ruins of his childhood home. The inhaler he'd returned the day after he played pretend with himself that it had been him who had bitten Scott McCall.
Derek has been playing pretend ever since.
But how is he supposed to pretend now, with the rogue piece of Stiles's clothing screwed up in his fist and him finally home alone in his own apartment? Worse (or better) is the fact that it's the kid's favourite beloved hoodie, the one he wears all the goddamn time which Derek can tell hasn't seen the inside of a washing machine in a while because of the way it reeks of nothing but pure, unadulterated Stiles.
Stiles's red, red hoodie.
Derek's eyes flash blue to remind him of who he is, at the same time as his fangs drop and his short nails extend into yellowed claws. Absently, he thinks of Little Red and The Big Bad Wolf when his form shifts, his resolve shattering like mirror glass as he accepts his seven years of bad luck with grace the moment he shoves his face into the fabric, now releasing that throaty groan that turns to a low growl then into a sex-hungry, shuddering snarl.
He inhales.
Deep; deeply; deeper.
And Derek is lost to Stiles, forever.
.
(from my current sterek WIP fic—let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged when it's up!)
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