Chapter Text
Manor Masquerade- Y/N Agnostic Witch! X Darkiplier – @untoastedravioli on Tumblr
You sit in the living room of the immense manor, holding a handheld mirror up to hastily apply your makeup. The party you were hosting was in honor of the current solstice and since you prioritized preparing, you left yourself about fifteen minutes to touch up your appearance. Mark and Amy did help, as it’s their property, but you attempted to convince them earlier in the day that they didn’t need to do so. Chica lay at your feet as you apply your lipstick, she juts her head up to look at Mark as he walks toward the bar with a bag of ice in hand, tan dress shoes tapping dully on the floor.
The dress code for the night was listed as elegant and formal with the requirement of wearing a masquerade mask of some sort. The solstice was always a reason to celebrate and so you wanted to host a proper party. This was no Halloween party by any means, as it was only September, but the invitations were still treated like props, hand written in cursive, allowing one plus one and sealed with wax and dried lavender. Your special touches. The manor wasn’t overly decorated any differently, just its normal elegant glamor. Since knowing Amy and Mark, they allowed you to have one room in the manor for yourself to use as your own space, whether you needed an extra work space or a quiet getaway. Tonight, you dedicated that one of several rooms to your altar for the solstice.
If you were being honest, you already had an idea of how you wanted tonight to go, despite Mark and Amy’s disapproval. That thought was pushed aside as you stood up and smoothed out the lines in the black, floor length dress adorning your figure. The dress cinched at the waist and flowed to the floor as it passed your knees, featuring a slit up to the thigh. To top off the outfit, a shimmery black and purple mask covering three quarters of your face.
“Chica, c’mon.”
She pouts, looking up in question as you get up to follow Mark to the kitchen. Chica follows for a moment before wandering back to the couch. The invitations said people could start arriving at 8pm, and hear cars pull up as you pass the front door.
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By 9:30 everyone had arrived, masked and dapper. To your excitement, a lot of people brought their plus ones, making a good turn out. Music pulsed through the barstool you sat on, the smell of burnt sage and rosemary wafting through the air. The lights were dim but you could tell Wilford was manning the bar, his accent and mannerisms transcending his /pink/ mask of choice.
“Alright little lady, what can I do you for? Being that you’re the host of this most superstitious celebration!”
He eyes the glasses, and motions to the bottles of light liquor, knowing somewhat what you like. You chuckle.
“It’s not superstitious, Will, it’s just nature.”
The air was thick as people crowded the bar, a dark grey and red mask standing next to you with a glass of dark red wine. Dark couldn’t conceal his aura around you even if he tried. He was practically seeping red and blue, trying to hide in plain sight.
“A double shot of Repesado over ice with lime, please.”
Dark chuckles and it’s stifled by what you can only assume to be a smirk.
“That’s a big drink for a “little lady”.” You look up at him and can tell he looks smug under his mask.
“Dark, I am quite literally larger than you.”
Wilford chuckles and slides you your drink, Dark straightening his posture with the stem of his wine glass
“I can see that.”
He tips his glass towards your general direction, and your ears heat up, the mask thankfully hiding your bashfulness.
The growing tension between you two had begun to bloom in the form of small verbal exchanges, and as long as Mark and Amy didn’t hear, you didn’t mind. Dark has made comments toward your appearance in the past, but he tends to keep things classy, if not overly flattering. You’re almost certain that underneath his cold, gray exterior was a helpless romantic. His eyes bored into you, watching you and making you feel tense, even if he was physically smaller than you. Dark was actually one of the egos to not make slimy comments about your figure, finding you beautiful rather than fetishizing you. Well. He did, but he also tried to keep those thoughts to the back of his mind. His relationship with Mark wasn’t the concern, but his oddly charming demeanor was something he wanted to keep up.
The tequila glass chills your hand as you sip and once a few songs have cycled over the speakers, you’ve finished your glass. Warm faced and buzzing a bit, you reach for Dark’s wine glass and steal a sip. You’re now in his personal space, the liquor making its way to your head and lowering your guard for personal boundaries. You look into the glass and then at Dark, grinning.
“Dark, this tastes like garbage, how do you drink this?” You laugh lightly.
He scoffs and takes the glass from you, gently patting your hand onto the bar counter. “Love, you’re in no place to judge. Perhaps a water?”
You pull your hand away and scowl. “Perhaps not. Will, a Mojito please?”
Wilford obliges and sets a large glass of water down as well. The mojito is your first grab, yes, followed by water, but not before sucking down the fruity cocktail. Dark watches, amused and hopeful, slowly moving to lean against you more before eventually you’re both standing hip to hip against the bar. There’s enough people here that maybe people wouldn’t notice, but Dark looks up and scans for Mark and Amy, not seeing them. He firmly grasps your waist and pulls you against him, your body heat radiating into his side.
“Darling, if straight tequila and cocktails are going to be your poison tonight, I’d slow down.”
His voice is low and close to your ear, and your hair stands up on the back of your neck. He was a few glasses deep, certainly tipsy, but not enough to blame his inhibitions on it. You on the other hand, just threw back another mojito and could maybe get away with it.
Dark’s touch is tantalizing so you take his glass from him and place your other hand over his which rests on your hip. The music and dim lighting and bustle of people create a warm, fuzzy cushion around you two. His eyes narrow under his mask.
“I need to show you something. Come with me.”
His wine glass as his anchor, you take his hand and weave through the people, down a long hallway. The moon showed through a window in the hall, indicating that it’s probably around one in the morning. Dark follows, both intrigued and irritated by your antics.
Dark’s POV
Y/N looked gorgeous, her hair and tattoos gave her away beneath her mask. If I’m being honest, I could point out her figure in a crowd of women. Not that I’ve been looking.
Although a mortal, Y/N is special and her affinity for the spiritual realm has drawn me to her over time, as much as her sage and rosemary make me nauseous. She has the gift of communicating with my world and as tantalizing as it is, she’s never worshiped a deity. Never a demon. Hm.
This party she’s thrown is to celebrate the turning of the season and while her efforts are charming, I must say. She deserves to know what it’s like to worship a demon. A dark entity.
“I need to show you something. Come with me.”
Sighing, I follow her down the hall and up the stairs. I never did know what she did up here. We come up to a room and she stops. The wine rushes to my head a bit. This was my room. Mark, that bastard. His heart’s bigger than his brain, to give my bedroom to his dear friend.