𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

[ Mannimarco x Reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　Reverie　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ᵐᵃⁿⁿᶦᵐᵃʳᶜᵒ ᵇʳᵃᶦⁿʳᵒᵗ
ᵐᵉⁿᵗᶦᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒʳᵉ .

The darkest depths of a mind were not an ideal place to dream. Every time he laid to rest, his innermost recesses came to haunt him, all the blood he had spilled, killing in the name of magic, enhancing the way it flowed through him until there was no humanity left.

The day his nightmares stopped, even for a second, was both bliss and anger to his mind. He had seen someone in a dream, a beautiful visage dancing in the midst of Aetherius, guided by the hands of gods, a stunning voice whispering unintelligible things behind the mist, and eyes bright without a hint of malice.

That dream became nothing but a nuisance as he found himself distracted from his duties, from his main goal of achieving godhood in his unique, profane way. He thought about that person, a person within a dream that he didn't know if they even existed, he thought about what would they think of him and his craft, if he was doing it right or not, pulling the few living strings that his undead heart still had. Then it became motivation; he wanted to perfect everything he did for the sake of them, for them to be proud of him if he ever met them.

If it was even possible.

∞
•

You had, too, seen him in a dream.

A restless nightmare in the midst of a confusing yet calming reverie. Eyes glowing with an unholy type of magic, watching you from the dark, consuming and caving into the deepest places of your mind. Places you didn't want to come back to, ever. His voice was chilling and raspy, what you'd imagine death itself to sound like, and he called you. He called your name and left you with an overwhelming urge to run away to those cold corners of the world and never turn back.

...You were nothing but a blacksmith. An apprentice with a great potential, your mentor had said, careful to never be heard by anyone else but you. You were known around your hometown for your craft, a prodigy in the art of sculpting metal and wood, and you had lived a normal yet rather plain life for now.

Still you had felt intrigued by darker paths even when you were a child. Magic was never a thing you got the opportunity to study properly but you felt a small sense of secret power every time you placed a curious and small enchantment on one of your creations. Secretly you looked for a rush in your life, and that was given to you when the night terrors began.

At first you took it as inspiration; almost like a muse for your art, adding sharper shapes and darker materials to your work. You soon began working on a personal project, a rather stunning circlet, made with a metal blacker than night, with a space in the middle for a gem in solitaire, an important piece that your wandering mind couldn't yet figure out.

Soon, tragedy struck your village. All the inhabitants including you were visibly horrified to find a most beloved innkeeper dead in the middle of the town, stomach impaled and blood forming patterns that no one could understand. Whispers of daedra worshippers began to arise and you were soon angered when you found out fingers were pointing at you.

Because everyone but you started to notice how slowly you had withdrawn, how much darker your eyes were. Your mentor didn't want to believe it, but a gnawing feeling took over his gut when he saw you place a black soul gem in the center of your circlet. He was sure he saw the suffering face of the innkeeper swirling in the depths of that thing.

Before they could catch and kill you, you succumbed to the call. You had walked out in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.

You followed the voice, those whispers beyond the treeline, a call to be consumed by whatever lied underneath those crooked roots. You walked amongst nature for hours, finding a clearing where you saw his figure. Black robes waving in the wind, a dark feeling emanating from his silhouette, only illuminated by the moonlight, and his glowing eyes.

With a few steps you were right in front of him, and with a bravery he had never seen before him you removed his hood and placed the circlet on his head. He would be terrifying, you thought, if he weren't so beautiful. There was something enticing about him that you couldn't shake off since the day he appeared before you in a dreamy mirage. And he looked at you and felt once again, your mundane form brought back a sense of humanity that he thought was already gone.

He placed his hand on your cheek, it was oh so cold, yet in that moment you felt that magic, surging through your veins, and you finally felt powerful, like you always sought in your deepest desires.

Soon, both your lips met. And you both knew it was meant to be.

______

This was VERY self indulgent ;;;v;;;