CHAPTER SEVEN. MORAL OF THE STORY

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( CHAPTER SEVEN && MORAL OF THE STORY )

( CHAPTER SEVEN && MORAL OF THE STORY )

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caught up in a cruel fate



A HORRIBLE SENSE of deja vu hit Diluc Ragnvindr that moment he watched his fiancé descend towards the rapids below. It was the very same sensation of when his father had breathed his final breath laying in his arms— and that terrified him at the prospect of what would be your fate. Human instinct is awfully right at times and though he tried to push down those lapses of panic; he knew this wouldn't end well. Perhaps that was why he started running before he could even realize that he had begun chasing after his fiancé.

It's terribly ironic; that all this time you were chasing after him and at this moment— he was the one chasing after you.

Caught up in a winded labyrinthine game of love, coming-of-age, and loss; Diluc lost sight of those closest to him in a blaze of vengeance. He grew nihilistic, this embittered taste of ash lingered as he sought the truth in the darkness. Even still, he radiated like a dying star— the cataclysm of brilliant colors unparalleled in beauty. It's in this serendipitous condition, Diluc Ragnvindr was reborn like a phoenix. Shedding away the feathers of the past as he looked to the future; in a sense, he lost a part of himself. He lost what it means to love another. The vows to cherish and protect, till death do you two parts.

Love is often all too fickle for mortals to take apart. Such devotion often warrants greater purpose and desire yet that very same devotion could be twisted against the master. When that devotion turns to obsession— one drowns in thought, in theory. Hypothetically, the act of loving another encompassed something beyond simple attraction. Physical aesthetic, shared emotions, aligning views— all such creates perspective.

But what happens when one's own perspective is so skewed with personal affect?

Perspective becomes ideology and then belief. One does everything to uphold this belief, to worship it with their entire being. Skewed as it may be, an individual truly believes anything is possible within their grasp. That is mortal flaw. To change the impossible into possibility; to create opportunity when it amounts to nothing in the end. Sacrifice is always needed; the law of equivalent exchange. Much like love itself— one needs to give their lives for the other and vice versa.

So when a perspective of love twists into one that no longer exists in the world— such application could no longer be attributed. Your affections for Diluc stemmed from one of childhood naïveté and his fading affection resulted from the death of his past self. Disproportionate perspectives that refuse to be aligned causes rifts. Expectations aren't met and sacrifices are made to relieve one's own self of that pressure.

In the end, the realization was all too late for a fragile mind. All one needed was a single push to spiral— one action.

When Diluc plunged into the water, his entire body froze as the icy depths seeped into his skin. Even still, he persisted— swimming after your sinking body, dipping closer towards the abyssal darkness. Apprehension shot through his veins as he swam towards you, arms pulling through the currents as he reached out in desperation to grab hold of you.

𝐖𝐀𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ↷ diluc ragnvindr x reader [on hiatus]Where stories live. Discover now