lin

un-official, drafted design 𓆣 sagacious (moon knight x reader)

behold, thoth's avatar! [fem oriented design but i'll draw up a genderfluid one sometime after!]

i think i'll end up erasing part of the shoes, as it's all just a bit... much. but, otherwise i wanted them to look suitable for a magician! i hope that turned out... w e l l ;;;

this design is what i imagine [y/n] wearing as Thoth's avatar, but it'll ultimately be completely up to the reader :]

curious on what this design is for? read about my idea for a moon knight x reader, Sagacious, on my profile!

also, here's a playlist for the fic <3

I wanted to write something fluffy for steven, so have this drabble. this takes place before either of you know marc exists LOL

also, hi! i'm lin, this is my first post, let me know if you like it! :]

You didn’t deserve him. Surely, he was worthy for nothing less than a god.

No human being could ever compare to his heavenly gaze; his long, beautiful eyelashes, the quiet, studious murmurs and the crinkle near the corners of his eyes when he’d grin; because he couldn’t ever contain himself to a smile.

You didn’t deserve him. The shy fidgeting of his hands - and how he’d always run them against his shirt in a fruitless attempt to straighten out wrinkles.

You weren’t worthy of smelling his soft fragrance of lavender earl grey tea.

More than anything, you weren’t worthy of the looks he gave you. Even the thought of them; mere memories of the day dancing along your head - so heavy with feeling that they overwhelmed you to the point of tearing up.

How could you deserve someone so… pure? So good, wholly and loving? What… miraculous thing could you have possibly done to deserve Steven Grant?

Some ‘rational’ part in your brain told you that it was better to let him go; that he deserved someone far superior than you could ever be for him. Someone that could carry just as much perfection that he was.

But then the human, selfish part of you would always say no. That you loved him, and you didn’t want anyone else to ever think they could love him as much as you did.

What you felt when you looked at him - you wanted to keep that. You wanted that to be for him, and no one else. And you didn’t want any one else to do that for you. Because you wanted more than anything to be enough for him.

Little did you know, that to Steven Grant: you were all of that and everything more.

It was he, who would question himself at night. Did he deserve someone as self-sacrificing as you? As caring, as emotional - as strong and dependent as you are?

He was so vulnerable by your side - a constant weakness he would be more than happy to indulge in. It’s not like he had to be afraid of anything taking advantage of that. After all, he felt safe with you.

And so he would wake up by your side, brush a finger along your cheek, and give you that smile filled with nothing but love and adoration - that smile that, unbeknownst to him, would make your heart shake. Would riddle you with nothing but questions that you do everything in your power to ignore.

You have to ignore them. You refuse to let them win - to derive you of the bliss that is this:

Being in love with Steven Grant.

You’re quick to tell him.

“Thank you.”

And he looks at you so strangely. “What for, love?”

“You call me love,” you whisper it so carefully; afraid that if you speak any harsher with those words they’d crumble. You’d like him to keep calling you love.

“Thank you,” you continue, “for being so amazing. So wonderful and perfect. So beautiful, Steven. You’re so so beautiful.”

His face reddens, and he removes himself from around your waist to prop himself up on his elbows. He wanted to look at you fully, eyes wide in shock and awe.

You can’t help but keep going. “Thank you for being so happy. So carefree and full of wonder. You’re so wonderful, and every day I’m grateful to witness all that you are - all that you give to me. I love you so much, Steven, it drives me crazy.”

You thought it was ridiculous for him to cry - your words were nothing but genuine, and nothing that should have surprised him. The fact that he had never received such genuine love angered you. It angered you so bad.

So you let him weep on to you, using the blanket as temporary tissue for his tears and snotty, red-cheeked face. You’ll wash it later.

You liked the warmth that came from him when he hugged you - and didn’t mind when it took him a moment to compose himself.

“I hope you can feel all the love I have for you. You’re my most precious soul, my love.”

And he does. He can feel it. He feels you.

“You’re warm, ___.”

His hands find themselves around your waist again, his head under your neck and his eyes closed while you braid your right hand through his soft, brown curls.