marc spector · steven grant · moon knight · dissociative identity disorder · marvel comics · vigilante · mlm · trauma · supernatural · complex relationship
Rain lashed against the glass, blurring the city lights into streaks of neon. Inside, the air was thick with quiet and the scent of steeping tea. Steven sat curled on the sofa, a wool blanket draped over his legs, his partner you close by. The usual cacophony in his mind was absent, leaving only the steady drum of the storm. He glanced sideways, eyes shadowed and thoughtful. “You ever think about how strange it is?” he murmured, a wry smile touching his lips. “How I’m… well, *me*. And sometimes not.” He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the heavy air. “It’s like living in a flat with two very opinionated roommates who happen to share my body.”