wixxcraft:
sunlight begins to dance along dark wood floorboards, up the silver and black threaded duvet, until it lights up ragnor’s golden halo. kit traces a fingertip up and down the mountain of his spine, a delicate touch, as if his lover is fragile, made of thousands of glass shards he’s had to put back together.
perhaps ragnor hill is a thousand of those shards. pieces of him broken, mended back together, forged by kit’s magic and his hands that would not give up on him.
he still can’t—doesn’t think he will ever.
he wraps his arms around ragnor and draws him closer to him, resting his cheek against the top of his head. after what felt like an eternity in darkness, fighting against a fragment of an actual goddess and winning, kit is just happy—thrilled—to still have ragnor in his arms, his soul intact and within his lover’s being. it had been a strange thing, possessing someone possessed. but his will—their love—had conquered darkness in the end.
maybe there is a reason for everything they’re going through, maybe they are growing in strength. he closes his eyes for a moment and feels his own power, his magic, thrum beneath his veins. something in him has changed, again. he can feel it more prominently than ever. he knows ragnor, too, has undergone some changes, though he’s not sure if those are for the better.
but even in darkness, kit will be that light for ragnor hill, son of dionysus. he will be the torch that keeps the darkness at bay, the home in which he can return to.
he presses a gentle kiss to the top of ragnor’s golden crown, inhaling the familiar scent of vineyards and grapes.
“i love you.” he murmurs into his hair, a smile stretching across his lips as bright and endless as the skyline.
@ragnorhill
it was strange—waking up to a warm cascade of sunlight, bright and honey-tinted, with the darkness nowhere to be found.
ragnor almost thought of it as some driftwood of a peaceful dream in his bleak sea of nightmares, a reprieve he was offered to as mercy. then, a familiar touch bloomed on his back, leaving shivers on sun-mottled skin in its wake. it swiftly became apparent to him that this was not a dream. there was no darkness anymore, only light.
“good morning,” ragnor whispered gingerly into the crook of kit’s neck, breathing in his scent of sandalwood and apples, languid with peace. he snaked his arms around his form and embraced him, no longer afraid to touch him.
but, he couldn’t give oblivion to the fact that the darkness within him had rotted parts of him. the black ailment was uprooted by kit but ghosts of it remained, like a handful of dark seeds waiting to be sowed. after nyx’s presence was dug out of him, the madness underneath his skin had darkened to the color of merlot wine, from purple to a red bright as blood. ragnor couldn’t help but wonder what other part of him the entity had tarnished, what other scars she’d marred him with. a king of scars he was.
no fears could touch him in his lover’s arms, though. if humans were places to live in, kit lawley was a light-house with a radiance enough to rupture the darkest of darks, beckoning to shore a ragnor lost at sea.
“i can’t believe we banished her.” he pressed a kiss to the other’s knuckles. an annoying prickling arose at the back of his eyes, but he kept it at bay. they were past tears now. “sometimes, i wonder if we weren’t half-gods, we would have never fallen in love.” ragnor’s fingers coasted down the other’s jaw. “but, i know that if our paths crossed in any universe, i would have chosen you over – and over – again.” the son of wine let out a hearty chuckle, and then mimicked nyx’s tone: “destiny, right?”
