#idv reader insert

You are going to miss the luxury comfort of a private dressing room. Honestly, you often sleep here rather than your boarding room, especially during late-night rehearsals. Granted, that was before the new owner of the Golden Theatre, Ronald or 'Dazzling Wolf' (a new stage name for a new man, he said) took over. You cannot help the small smile on your face as you think of the eccentric man who has become an important part of life, now soon to be a whole year.

There are a tap of three knocks in a purposeful order, "The door is unlocked, come in!" Looking up as the door is open to reveal a short blonde man.

"Happy birthday, Nightshade!" A cheerful, youthful voice coming from the man. He hops over to your seated position in front of the vanity, then he presents from behind his back a bright bouquet. A colorful arrangement with spots of lavender in between. "Flowers for a flower." Bowing, you take them with one hand and inhale the fragrance. You let out a soft, peaceful sigh with a smile on your lips. The scent seems to wash away your nerves, the usual nerves one has about performing before rehearsals.

You stand up after putting the script down on the cluttered vanity, leaning slightly down to give Sparrow a kiss on the cheek, leaving a faint trace of your rouge.

"These are lovely, Sparrow. Thank you!" Smiling at the short blonde acrobat of the theatre troupe. "How did you know?" Curious as you didn't mention it to anyone— Not to be secretive! You simply were more concerned about the play these few months, and being very busy with the surprise engagement, too.

"Ronald— I mean 'Dazzling Wolf' has been mumbling about it these past few weeks." Whispering to you as he leans in with a hand covering his mouth from the side. "Thought I should get ahead before him." Winking at you playfully. Your birthday is tomorrow, luckily, it is the weekend, meaning no work, and Ronald has you all just to himself.

You put the flowers in the empty vase on the table in front of a small plush couch in the dressing room. Taking the thrown clothes from when you were getting a fitting for the costumes.

"Such a troublemaker!" Slapping his shoulder playfully as you laugh, "I hope he is not thinking too hard on it. I was hoping just to have a day off with him." Worried that Ronald is going to try to make it extravagant. You grew up poor, worked your way up to where you are now, and though you are very happy to be center of attention as an actress… You are still very private.

'Nightshade' is for the stage and people to read all about; (Name) is for your personal and private life away from the piercing stage lights. Though you do love theater, you will not be made stressed the way the late Belladonna was.

You and Sparrow talk for a while like close siblings, gossiping mostly about anything Sparrow was nosily listening in on.

"They say Kroto isn't going to be returning to the Golden Theatre after the final show in Canada." Eating some cookies you brought in for a snack after rehearsal.

"Why? She's the new leading lady of the theatre!" Confused by this sudden talk of leaving such a 'golden' opportunity.

"Maybe the guilt got to her." Like many, Sparrow looked up to Belladonna, "Aren't you excited though? This could be a huge opportunity for you, Nightshade."

You look at him first, then the flowers in the vase, a thoughtful expression on your face. Then you shake your head, "I am only an understudy… I am sure Ronald will find a more fitting lead lady." Saying in a low voice.

The rehearsal was divided into two parts for the moment. No costumes, just straight going through the play. There is plenty of time before opening night, and given this is going to be the Golden Theatre's most ambitious performance since Belladonna's death, everything has to be perfect!

"From the top!" Shouts the producer, "Lower the lights, this is a romance scene, not an interrogation." Grumbling heard from up the stage.

Everyone but the two main characters— Played by Ronald and yourself— Move off the stage as the stage lights land on you. Ronald is holding his position of sitting on the edge of the stage prop bed. You walk towards him slowly, your hand reaching out to him as you start your song.

"Last tango of the night," You sing to him as your character is to seduce his character in this part of the play. "Last song of love." His character stands up and rushes to you, holding you fiercely, "Sad melodies take flight, crying to the heavens above." Your hands softly caress his back as you let him hold you. "Don't be afraid, my dear," You look up at him as he pulls enough away to gaze down at you. "You're safe with me."

The song continues as you lean him into a dance; the song ends with the stage lights going off as he pushes you onto the bed.

When the second act rehearsal ends, everyone applauds each other. They socialise before saying their goodbyes. You slipped away early to start packing up your clothes and makeup. There is a lot, so you want to be sure everything is put away before Ronald comes to pick you up. You touch your cheeks as they become warm, it is rather silly to be blushing, but you do!

After all, neither of you are married! Mother would be falling off her chair if she knew you were not only going over a gentleman's home, but practically living with him unmarried! You shake your head as your mother is of the old-fashioned sort and would occasionally try to arrange a suitor for you every month!

Two knocks on your open door steal your attention to the creme white dressed lover, "Ready?" Leaning against the door.

"Almost!" Excited to see him. You quickly roll up a shirt and toss it into your suitcase, "Now, I'm ready." Grabbing the handle after you closed the suitcase. Ronald, however, stops you from picking it up from the couch, a kiss on your cheek as he carries it out effortlessly. Of course, you swoon over the man for his act of service no matter how expected or unexpected it is of him.

"I was thinking," Speaking as he walks with you down the hall of the dressing rooms. "Why don't we stay in?"

"Stay in? And do what?"

The smirk he gives you goes over your head.

The sunlight touches your face as you turn your head towards the window, a soft groan from your throat as you move your arm to block it. A shift between the sheets, you feel one of Ronald's pets nuzzle your other hand before licking your fingers. A usual sign they want attention, something you have come to learn as you often visit him and stay over.

Saturday morning— Late morning.

Finally a weekend that is not busy with planning for the play or full of interviews, or your mother nagging you over lunch. A simple, peaceful morning; especially after a passionate night Ronald had given you after dinner. Silly man was jealous about Sparrow's flowers.

You blink a few times, rub your eye, then stretch a bit under the shared blanket; reaching over to pet Mario, who is sleeping on Ronald's chest. Then you pet the miniature pig named Peachy, and another dog named Angelo, who lay between your lover and yourself. Angelo is the one who is awake and all too happy to see that he has woken you up. You sit up, arching your body forward as you are sore from falling asleep at an odd angle thanks to the pets that sleep on the bed. You look around the room, the sun slipping through the white sheer curtains, the soft snoring, and the scattered clothes on the floor.

Moving off the bed slowly and as quietly as possible, you pick up a dress shirt your lover wore last night, slipping it on. The dog follows you out of the room downstairs.

The mansion seemed like too much for one person to live in, even with a few little pets roaming about and the housekeepers going about doing chores and such. You wonder if he feels lonely? Like a prince left alone in a castle, then again, maybe it is not lonely for him. Ronald had said he trusts you, feels comfortable around you, and at times you are much more so his confidant than lover.

Down the winding stairs, you hear nothing by the time you get to the living room. Not a single housekeeper in sight, you go to the kitchen with the dog loyally keeping up with you.

"Want a treat?" It spins around, "But you have to stay and help me make breakfast, 'kay." Giving a good few strokes before washing your hands and going about preparing a simple breakfast— A bit more than simple, as your good mood has you making pancakes, scrambled eggs, a plate full of bacon (a piece tossed to your well-behaved assistant), and coffee. The food set on the dining table and you stand proud of your masterpiece.

"Good morning." Arms wrapping around your torso as you place down the small jar of syrup. Placing it beside the homemade cream you made for the pancakes. "You made all this?" Nuzzling your neck to distract you from him unbuttoning his shirt on you.

"Yes," Giggling as he is kissing your neck, "Thought you might be hungry." Moaning when he lowers the dress shirt on one side of your shoulder, gripping the edge of the table as his other hand slides from the top of your thigh to the inside of your thigh.

"You are right," Turning you around suddenly, "I am hungry." Taking your lips as you started to giggle, his hands going under your plush thighs and quickly lifting you up. Ex military, Ronald kept up his build both for looks and to do things like this. He moved you both to the other end of the dining table, laying you on it, your arms around him as he bites into your neck. "You were supposed to stay in bed," Kissing his way down, then pinning your hands beside your body, "Breakfast in bed," You gasp as Ronald gives attention to your breasts with his mouth.

"I, ah, didn't mind!" Moaning as he is ravaging you just like he did yesterday. "Please, don't tease." Rubbing your thighs together as you easily are becoming aroused. Ronald letting your hands go in favor of opening your legs and diving between your legs, "Ah!" Your hands gripping his hair as his tongue wastes no time licking your clit. His grip on your thighs is tight and likely is going to leave marks again. He groans as they squeeze around his head. Your hand lets go of his hair as he dragged your bottom half up, letting out a cry of name as his fingers easily slip inside, knowing well where to curl to have you seeing stars.

"Oh, God," Your orgasm had hit hard, "Love." Grateful he lowered your legs back to wrap around his waist, but knowing all too well this is not going to end with just a taste.

"Happy birthday, my starlight." As he drops his sleeping trousers, "Let's unwrap your first gift." You don't get a chance to reply as his cock is buried deep within your sensitive cunt, filling you in all the right ways, and ruining you for any other— Not that you want any but him.

"Ronald!" Hands scratching his back, "What is—" He kisses your lips as he takes your left hand and slips a golden engagement ring on your ring finger. You are at a loss for words between the sex and shock.

"Going to keep my starlight in my hands."

By god, you swear his "love language", if you could call it that, was frightening you every time he could.

When your beloved can turn invisible at will, it is to be expected.

He can and will use the fact that you stare into space often to frighten you, dragging his fingers along any exposed skin he can find, blowing on exposed skin with that icy breath of his, etc. If you haven't heard him walking up to you when he was invisible, it frankly was on you.

Jack has poked you with one of his claws before, though it was because he had asked you a question about the paintings that decorated the manor walls and you hadn't answered even when he had called. What else was he supposed to do?

Now Jack won't admit this, especially since he prides himself on not being poetic, but there are little drawings of you stuffed into the desk drawers of his room; his previous self, the real Jack that had once held the body, had never truly disappeared, being ingrained in muscle memory that twitched and begged for him to draw.

When you're spaced out, he commits your features to memory, taking note of things such as items you were holding, what you were looking at, what were you doing, etc. Each of these little things gets put into a drawing.

Sometimes, he even wonders, staring at your blissful face as you stare into nothingness, how you could even stand him. He wonders what allured you to him and what was so alluring about you. He wonders what it would have been like if he, The Ripper, was still being suppressed, only able to watch from a window if the 'good' Jack had remained. He was nothing more than a killer, someone whose heart beat fast for the blood of those on his hands.

Those feelings get forgotten the moment you would come back, smiling at him with that smile that made him, for a while, forget that annoying, nagging voice that wished to tear you apart. All seemed right in the world for that short moment.

⚜️ He rarely initiates — if you’re lounging somewhere and invite him to join you, he sits nearby but won’t touch. He just gazes at you, his big doe eyes lit up with sheer love, and waits until you prompt him closer.

⚜️ He apologizes for every little thing. For getting closer. For accidentally bumping you when he repositions his arm. For “moving too much.” Even for being near you at all.

⚜️ The first few times you spend cuddling with him, his heart rate spikes, and he stumbles over anything he tries to say. The next few times, he’s so caught up in making sure you’re comfortable that he still won’t let himself relax.

⚜️ He loves to hold your hands — they’re warm and safe, and it’s not as overwhelming as being enveloped in your arms. He also likes it when you cup his face 🤲

⚜️ You often come up to pepper him in congratulatory kisses after his performances. It catches him so off guard initially but soon it’s all he can think about during his acts. His favorite part of performing is seeing your excitement at the end ♡

⚜️ In general, he tends to equate his self-worth to the reception he gets from others, so he tries to amuse you constantly.

⚜️ He’ll take your hands and whirl you into a clumsy polka dance, bring you handmade gifts, perform little magic tricks for you, break into mime acts at random intervals... Anything to see your smile!

⚜️ Dressing up before shows probably becomes more intimate. You randomly come up to embrace him from behind while he’s at his dressing table.

Perhaps he shaved one side of the dice? Or is the dice weighted, and he knows how to toss it just right?

The final round starts, and all the pieces are put back in their places. Norton looks cocky, confident that he will win this match two to three or three to zero.

“You can go first, lady.”

Your eye twitches as you play your turn. A good start, but it always goes downhill once the card events start. It makes you rack your brain as Norton is waiting for your turn to end, so infuriated you had let the words slip out venomously. 

“You're cheating.” Now, you didn't say those words with a shouting voice or even a normal voice; you whispered them to yourself in your anger.

The laugh from him, a knee-snapping laugh, was the first time you saw him laugh. Chuckle or snicker, yes, but not laugh. “Quite the accusation there, rich lady,” He spoke, leaning back against his chair.

“Tsk.” Clicking your tongue as you stare back at your cards, refusing to admit your mistake of expressing your thoughts out loud. “Can we finish the game?” You are going to lose anyway.

“Nuh, little lady,” You hate the mockingness in his tone, “My character was just insulted!” Oh, you are going to punch him. “And it seems we need to address this.”

“You're hanging around Orpheus too much.”

A shrug as that smirk has not left his face, “Let's focus on the matter at hand, rich lady.” 

You side-eye him.

“How about we raise the stakes a bit, hm?” There is a cockiness in his tone, arrogant to be honest, as he smirks at the way your eyes leave the board the second he speaks. “A new game, so all is fair. You win, I will show you how to win.”

Doe eyes, siren eyes, doll eyes, whatever fancy term that Novelist bastard uses in his books, your eyes are on the Prospector. “So you are cheating!”

“Nuh-huh, don't go assuming, it makes an ass out of you.” He loves how annoyed you look at him, feisty like a street cat who ain't letting anyone take its meal. “Now if I win,” He pauses long enough to make you shift in your chair uneasily.

“What do you want, Mr. Campbell?”

“You.” Placing three facedown cards in front of you as you both finish this game, “We go upstairs and you show me how you get the boss here his inspiration.”

You do not blush, you glare at him with the sharpest look you can give! It is no secret between the six people here what you are to the Novelist— Novelist, Journalist, Composer, and Entomologist— A friend that is clearly more than a friend, a sort of glue sticking everyone together in this place.

A mysterious Baron, everyone has secrets, and though Alice is trying to uncover the truth, you are forging bonds like a weaver of fates. You are the most suspicious yet the only one being truthful, which throws most of them off.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Unless riding a dirty, poor Prospector is beneath—”

“New game!” You cut him off with a hand slammed on the dining table, “You better keep your word, Mr. Campbell.”

“Of course.”

The pieces were set back to their original places, the cards shuffled, eyes locked on one another. You took the game seriously, always have, given how competitive you are, but the Prospector can tell you are far more invested now. The back and forth is always fun, especially when you start to curse at him; however, this time, you are quiet. Focus on every move made.

“Don't get cocky.” He says, but you do not react or shift your gaze from the board. “Luck of the draw.” Norton realizes he is the only one talking, as you are truly serious about this.

Oh, well, Norton keeps to his word; if you win, however, he counts on you to be just as honorable.

A tie. This last round will be the tie breaker, declaring the winner.

“Have you ever bedded someone, Campbell?”

“Why? Anticipating your loss already?” He clicks his tongue as you send him back ten spaces.

“No… Well, you don't seem the sort to… Well, trust someone enough to be close with so intimately.”

Norton, for a second, holds onto the dice in his hand, his eyes on the board as he lets those words sink in. You are right… Normally, he would not, but sex is a tool used just like a pickaxe in the mines.

“You forget I'm a man, I've needs.” A lame excuse and not at all like him. Tone is tight, firm in those words; he rolls the dice and is on the direct path once more to the mine. You take the dice off the board slowly, eyes on him as if trying to find the crack in the coal walls he is behind— Not hiding, it is something he is accustomed to putting up walls to protect himself… As all those who do not have the luxury of a different path, a different social status, a different life from Norton Campbell's.

You roll, and now you need to simply roll a one to win this first round of the last game. Norton needs to roll a two to win or a three to send back your ore.

“Heh.” A soft chuckle as Norton watches you carefully start to roll the dice within your hand, “I wonder if you are telling yourself how brave you are for accepting this bet.” His eyes wander from your eyes to your chest, “Pft, I was waiting to see if you'll start cowering out. Seems you are willing to do whatever it takes to seek the truth.” 

You roll the dice, “A deal is a deal. I know you're cheating, and you are going to tell me how.” The dice lands on a three, you suck your teeth as you miss the mining shaft, but your ore is safe from Norton's ore. You cross your arms as you lean back against the chair with an eyebrow raised.

The Prospector rolls the exact number he needs to win this round. “Still so assumptuous.”

You are trying to figure him out, this was not an impulsive decision… Could it be to get even with Orpheus? Sounds pretty petty, but then again, Orpheus has a habit of teasing Norton when alone with him or around you. It is no secret that the Prospector dislikes Novelist; well, Norton seems to dislike everyone, but he has a particularly strong dislike for the one you admire. Yes, you are sleeping with Orpheus, close to him as both of you are writers, nor do you hide it.

“...” Back to going quiet, this time Norton is quiet as the last round starts.

There is no victory cheer or mocking laugh; there is a long silence as the Prospector wins the game… You let out a long sigh, then stand up as you are about to break the silence.

“Tonight.” Norton sounds so serious, but his voice is low.

“Huh?”

“Tonight, after everyone is in their rooms,” His eyes not once locked on your face, "I will leave my door unlocked.” Speaking up as he gathers cards and shuffles them, “Wear something easy to take off. I'm not going to be fighting to get your corset off.” Putting the cards down and rearranging the two pieces of ore.

“You don’t want to…” Your lips pressed together as he glances up at you with a smirk, then goes back to playing his game by himself, the smirk gone. “Fine.”

Dinner was comfortable, Alice is always the conversation starter, and Orpheus is the most talkative once it is a subject he has an interest in. Of course, Frederick is snarky when Orpheus tries to involve him in the conversation, and Melly sounds indifferent, but Norton is quiet. You catch his gaze a few times on you, those eyes hold an intensity that makes you feel like you are about to be asked to meet him outside, rather than in his bedroom.

“Perhaps Miss (Name) might know the answer,” Orpheus says, which steals your attention from Norton to him.

“Pardon?”

“We were discussing if there would be stories about, say, animals or insects rather than humans.”

“There are two popular ones that I am aware of: Black Beauty, a story from the horse’s perspective, and there is Peter Rabbit, a children’s story about a mischievous rabbit.”

“Children's books, another word. My point stands.” Melly says, “There are plenty of stories about monsters, both in the minds of men and physically, but animals are neither as threats nor as intelligent.” She sounds bored with her usual monotonous voice, yet you know she is curious.

“Perhaps, you would be open to advising on creating a story centered around insects with anthropomorphic themes?”

The conversation goes on, you are easily roped into things like this, as Orpheus knows you are excited to hear new ideas. His hand under the table touches you, not in a sexual way, but in a sweet way as he finds your hand on your thigh. Such small touches make you smile brighter.

“Retiring early, Mr. Campbell?” Alice's voice snaps your attention to Norton, who got up and was starting to leave the dining room.

A grunt.

“Rest well then.” Alice doesn't sound dejected at least.

“I doubt there will be much sleeping happening tonight.” A statement you know is for you. He with a smirk on his face while you turn your head a bit flustered.

The conversation goes on until Alice leaves, Orpheus and Melly soon following, only Frederick did not retire for the evening and left for the living room. Of course, you invited yourself and followed, as, surprisingly, you find yourself nervous about tonight.

Which you shouldn't! At least, you think you shouldn't… The more you think about it, about Norton and the way he seems so intense at times, the more you wonder if…

Frederick does not speak to you while you sit on the couch listening; however, he does pause between pieces to allow you to clap in appreciation. The melodies soothe you, often you would come here just to listen to Frederick play, sometimes his music drawing into the depths of another place, sparking your creative thoughts.

After playing for an hour or two, Frederick bids you goodnight. You return to your room, slowly, wasting time with each step upstairs; when you finally are in your room, you take a deep breath.

Something simple, nothing complex, you have a plain nightgown that would be easy to— Your cheeks burn.

“You showed up.”

“You're the one who wants to be ridden like a stallion. As I said, a deal is a deal.” Crossing your arms as you make sure your eyes do not shift to his exposed chest. “Did you finish bathing?”

“Yes.” Not saying anything else as he steps to the side of the doorway and gestures to you to come inside his room. 

You step inside, one foot in, then look at him. Norton raises an eyebrow but smirks arrogantly as if preparing for the words of you backing out. Instead, you turn your head forward and walk towards the neatly made bed with only a sheet on it. You sit on it patiently. Norton is quick to close the door, locking it, but he isn't quick to go to your side. 

The tension is there, uneasy nervousness from both of you, you grip the sheets as Norton turns around. You watch as he moves with no sense of eroticaism, he just walks towards you and shoves you onto your back of bed.

His mouth never finds yours, his hands are rough, and he seems distracted as he does what is necessary to get your bodily reaction. You lay there, not helpless, more lost as you both adjust positions so you are bent over the bed. It feels…

Well…

Disappointing?

It was like more of a chore than the fantasy you had dreamt about (spoken to Orpheus about your budding crush on the Prospector). After the deed is done, Norton does not seem to mind you lying in the bed with him. No soothing words or affectionate touches, just a hollow feeling.

Norton closes his eyes and opens them to the next day, you gone with only the barest traces of your scent on his skin.

“Shit.” He fucked up. Had you right there, and he couldn't get that smug bastard's smirk out of his mind at dinner. Anger that eats at him when you have eyes for others, Norton hates the feeling of being second-rate… That nagging voice in the back of his mind had chosen the worst time to spite its venom. Cannot believe he is yearning like some poet or painter for a lover they can only have with a pen or a brush.

He gets up off the bed and nearly throws his magnet at the door, but stops when he sees it open.

“Good morning, Mr. Campbell.” The Novelist leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, wearing his pajamas and bedrobe.

“Orpheus.” Putting the magnet back on the desk, “What do you want?” Pisses off.

Orpheus entered the room. “We need to talk.” He closed the door behind him.

“I don't have time for this, boss.” Moving forward, but Orpheus gets in his way, causing him to bump his behind against the messy desk.

“You are making time, Norton.”

A circus? There is so much history around the surrounding area of the Oletus Manor, maybe places in news articles a long time ago. It took a few hours to get here by automobile, but here you are at the Moonlit River Park. The butler leaves with the automobile after saying he will return before dinner time. You check your pocket watch as it is early afternoon. Meaning you will have plenty of time to explore.

You look around the abandoned park as you grow curious about the sights near the manor, or have connections to the mysterious Baron of the Oletus Manor. Alice has many newspaper clippings on the corkboard in her dorm, and some new ones on her desk. One might think she is a 

You never liked circuses, too many horror stories of kidnapping children and murderous clowns had darkened the fun of them. Plus, the scam of most, if not all, of the carnival games had disappointed you too deeply as a child.

Entering the Moonlit River Park through the clearly newly added gate, a gate that requires a code to be entered in order to open it. Why? The list of questions soon grows as you explore the area around. Roller coaster and a circus tent; everything looks as if time stopped, you can almost hear the laughter of children and carnival music.

The more you walk around, the deeper into these time-stamped memories, the more you find yourself with questions with no answers. The Baron is mysterious, an enigma to everyone; you can only speculate with Alice about these key spots he has bought and why only the guests of the manor are able to access these places.

By now you are on the other side of the circus, storm clouds have gone unnoticed, you are standing by the cipher close to both the other side of the roller-coaster— Which you rode against your better judge and it seems it has been well maintained and power powering it— The machine starting up when you where touch it.

“What are you doing here?!” A harsh voice snapped your attention away from the cipher, and sparks flew as you missed a key moment to follow the keys moving.

“Fuck!” Okay, so you screamed when you heard the man's voice not too far behind you, holding your chest as if your heart jumped out of your chest. “Oh, for Christ's sake,” Turning around to see Norton with his arms crossed. “You scared me!”

“Yeah, I can see that loud and clear, canary.” Unimpressed as his eyes did not shift from your person as he walked closer, “Now answer the question: What are you going here?” Cold, harsh, you couldn't help feeling hurt a bit. Part of you hoped, despite the awful night, he would be at least lukewarm with you.

“It isn't any of your business.” Huffing at him, “But since you must know, I was exploring.”

“Why?”

“I was bored!” You might have gone too far saying this as he stood right in front of you as if sizing you up, “Since my legs worked fine.” The slight eye twitch was noticeable.

“We're leaving.” Grabbing your arm, causing you to pull back.

“I can be here until dinner!”

“Are you crazy?! It will be dark by then, and it's about to—” The loud crack of thunder cut him off, then the sudden downpour of rain. “Rain…” Letting you go as he sighed. “These places aren't safe to go alone, you should've had some with you.”

“I was fine! Not like anyone knows about this place!” Yelling over the loud rain.

“Are you stupid!? How could you be so certain!?”

The yelling at each other, not caring how soaked to the bone you both are becoming. He's getting in your face, you're at him, yelling until you both are panting. This is normal, bickering over and over, until the others would get involved to break it up, but this time… 

Both your hands reached for the other, grabbing and pulling like opposite magnetic forces, and colliding.

You hold his face with both your hands as he grabs you by your shoulders and kisses you. Your eyes close, lips mesh perfectly with his, the rain no longer making you shiver.

Your hands go to his hair, the Prospector helmet falling to the ground, you whimper as he bites your bottom lip before his tongue, your lips parting, letting his tongue wrap around yours. The kiss is everything, stealing your breath and drowning out the world around you, his hands moving down your body— One sliding down your breast and the other tracing the outline of your body before grabbing your ass. Your back is arching as he moves to kiss your neck.

“Norton.” Moaning out his name.

“That is,” Said before he left a mark on the side of your neck, “Keep saying my name like that.” Pushing you against the wall of some building that once stood here. You grip the back of his shirt as he grinds himself against your crotch and lower stomach.

“Please,” Begging as you pull away as much as you can, “Bend me over and take me.”

There is a chuckle, cocky, “Take you? You can do better.” There is that arrogant asshole attitude.

“Fuck me.” You are frustrated as you make a point by ripping open as much of his shirt as you can, “Now.”

“Whatever happened to manners?” Saying that as he does the same action you did to your blouse, “You owe me a shirt.”

“And you owe me a proper fuck.” Pulling him back into a kiss to end this banter, you need him now.

“I do.” Norton won't deny it, nor make you wait any longer as he lifts one of your legs. That gasp as you cling to him is the beginning of the sounds he wants to hear from you; his gloved fingers rubbing your pant-covered cunt. “The one time you aren't wearing a skirt.”

“Norton!” You are turned around, hands grabbing the edge of the crate with a cipher on it, you feel him grinding his crotch against yours from behind. Your mind short-circuits as he grabs your breasts, desperate to touch every part of you. “Oh, please, Norton.” You cannot stand all this, even as his teeth bite your neck through your high collar blouse, even as he growls when your hand reaches behind you and grabs his ass as you move your hips to his rhythm.

It is all a blur, like the flash of lightning in the sky.

Neither of you is sure how quickly you both got to the building called ‘Haunted House’. Clothes hanging on the railing of the staircase, the sound of rain in the background like a soothing ambiance, luckily, the lights work inside as the floor becomes the spot for your bodies to intertwine. The chill from the rain has long gone, Norton stole the chill with his hands all over your body and mouth, marking his path as he descends between your legs.

“God!” Throwing your head back as he did not warn you as his lips wrap around your clit. Your voice louder than yesterday night, Norton made sure to have singing like the canary, like he calls you. He groans as your thighs trap his head between your legs, using his tongue to have you trembling, his fingers to have you arching and toes curling against his back.

Norton doesn't stop when you cum the first time, in fact, it was like a taste of you wasn't enough. You didn't stop him, you want him to drink deep of you until your world is nothing but white with his noise as the background noise. It wasn't enough the second time, nor the third, it was the fourth time— Midway through your orgasm— When he finally enters you with his cock.

It is big, not comically big to the point you are sure it will hurt, but big enough it takes him a second to be completely inside of you. You can taste yourself on his lips that take yours as he is only halfway in; Norton is taking extra care this time, whispers of praise on your skin as his lips leave yours to kiss and mark your neck. His thumbs rub the back of your legs as he brings them up to your shoulders.

The Prospector is much deeper this time, better this time.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.” And you do even in this tight position on your back with your knees nearly brought to your shoulders. “I won't be gentle.” Warning you, his eyes studying your face to find a hint of hesitation.

“Don't be.” Smiling at him, “I can handle it.” Pulling him closer and kissing his nose. It is the last sweetness you give him before he takes you up on your word. Your nails scratch into his skin as his pace is at first slow but deep, then becomes faster and with intent. You cry out his name as he finds your sweet spot, telling him— Begging him— To not stop. Norton doesn't, and seeing your face with ecstasy, it becomes his drive to make you fall apart and fill you with his cum until he has nothing left.

The rain finally stopped by the time you both were done.

Both of you are sore, exhausted, and with legs intertwined as you both lie on the floor.

Norton used the curtains to hide the hidden mirrors (used to create the illusion of an unending looping maze)  to cover you both, as the clothes still were not dry, though hours had passed. You do not mind so long as Norton keeps close, sharing his warmth with you. You woke up, eyes greeted by Norton's face, free of the scowl or cold expression on his face, he looked at peace… A face you saw by chance as he was in the inner door greenhouse, looking outside. It was like he was basking in the sun, soaking up as much sun as he could.

Your fingers lightly touch the burnt scars on his face, scars most would hide from the world, but he bears them to the world. The left side of his body is scarred, the skin of a miner who is alive to see the surface, his story written all over his body— The surface level part. Your eyes wander over the gravely damaged skin, which reminds you of the stories of soldiers who come back physically and mentally changed. Norton would probably say he would've preferred war over the mines.

“It doesn't frighten you,” Norton says before opening his eyes, one cloudy and the other a striking green you have never seen before him.

“No. You are beautiful.” It sounds so cliche, yet you find him beautiful.

“You're weird.” Closing his eyes as if dismissing your comment, yet you see the twitch at the corner of his lip as he holds back a smile. You smile widely as you kiss his cheek, forehead, and cheek. Throwing yourself on him so he lies on his back with you on top of him, kissing his face. He complains, though he does not stop you.

An awkward cough stops you. Norton was quick to roll you off and cover you by hiding you behind him. His eyes are sharp on the old head butler, who covers his eyes with a gloved hand respectfully.

“My apologies, sir and madame, but I am here to retrieve you both for dinner.”

He leaves so you both can get dressed, which is humorous as both Norton's and your shirts are torn open. The butler gives his coat to cover your front, while Norton couldn't care less about his appearance.

There were no dreams, no sensation of being asleep for so long! Doctor Dyer even said they started fearing the worst. It is not like that was your concern; it was your father and the miners.

The news given to you is beyond heartbreaking… In a year you have lost everything your father ever owned or built himself, including your home.

When you learned more about the events… The explosion, the suicide pact made by your father, and ordered the workers to follow—There was a research article on the gas that caused the hallucination.

How were the hallucinations they saw so realistic to them that your father would… Why the suicide pact?! Did they truly believe the promises of in the sentences of madness?! A question you know the answer to as the detonation of the charges buried the cave with everyone inside, all those men who worked themselves so often to death to make ends meet— Scarcely.

Perhaps this karma…  As now you are left with utterly nothing.

The mining company went bankrupt to pay the families off… Everything your father owned was sold off by your mother’s side of the family, they did not want to take from their pockets the money needed to pay off your father’s debts.

The life you knew is gone, your mother's family had turned away from you to keep their livelihood secure (though they pay for your medical upkeep), and the families of those miners demanded your blood. It is a nightmare scenario that leaves you helpless.

It hurt that their last words to you were to either find a rich husband or sell yourself at some brothel. They abandoned you, just like they did with your father after your mother died.

Suddenly, you have fallen from the top to now sinking into the bottom.

It was too much for you. The sense of isolation, loneliness, and helplessness quickly takes root in your heart. Your friend, the doctor whose name is William Dyer, visits you from time to time—Visiting as often as he can with his wife when you are transferred to a mental ward.

Your dark thoughts had led you to a dark option as you grieved; staying in a coma felt like a better option.

Yet, you find yourself digging more into it despite the advice of Doctor Dyer given your fragile mental state.

The Golden Cave accident, how could it have gotten so… The more reports say the mine was unfit to be worked in, they say the gas within the cave has a hallucination effect, the canary that was sent in died but your father covered it up.

Everything was your father’s fault, and the sins of the father fall upon his only child.

Doctor Dyer took you in when you were discharged from the hospital. You have nothing but some clothes that do not fit you, and Dyer apologizes that he could not get anything that belonged to you during the year of your coma. You do not mind wearing a man’s overalls and work shirt; you were simply grateful to have a friend in this cold world. You swore to repay his and his wife’s kindness; you will not take this for granted.

The road is not easy, or rather it is especially not easy for a woman to find work, and you are unmarried as well. 

Your name does not help as it brings out different types of reactions—The worst is the one when you were able to fetch a job as a maid for some new money tycoon.

It took a few months, Doctor Dyer told you that there is light at the end of this darkness and you are close to reaching it. The wife says luck is on your side, she gives serious advice though when you tell her about being a housekeeping service. They are popular among the new money as many of their staff are young and agreeable looking. You realize what she means when one of the older women who in is charge tells you a pretty face goes a long way rather than skill (there is a different skill they suggested you to work on).

The old woman says there was a client who specifically asked for you, and you know this going to be risky as your name is well-known. The papers were at least in your favor, but some people will gladly take out their outrage on you.

In a snap of a finger, when the chosen servants entered the mansion, a castle truthfully, to greet their new master; your luck quickly ran out the moment you laid eyes upon the person you will be working for...

Norton Campbell.

Father was never a religious man, he was a firm believer in man taking his fate into his own hands.

Thus it made it strange why he and other miners took their lives in the Golden Cave, the doctor says they were… All of them… Were so firm about following your father deep into the cave to sacrifice themselves. You are never going to get answers, no matter how deep you try to search for them, it is like every answer is buried in Golden Cave, Lakeside Village.

You had to stop at some point, you needed to focus on living and surviving every day with your last name.

With your current job, you are busy every moment of the day; Master Campbell has you working like a dog. Heh, guess it makes sense given the moment he laid eyes on you— The humorous laugh he let out when he had stood in front of you after inspecting the other house staff, he plucked you out of the lined-up team to speak with you in private. Contract modification, he made you his personal maid.

Working for Master Campbell is hell, a twisted penance, he hangs over your head not only being the one who saved your life but the one who was bullied by your father and his lackeys. He told you to get used to sore hands and knees.

The company says the employer can do whatever they wish as long as it is in the contract, signed, and the money in commission to the company and the employee given is the appropriate amount.

Oh, you signed the new contract. It felt like you pricked your finger and signed it in blood. You need the money, you need the housing, and you know this is the only place you are going to get work— Steady work.

Today you timed that Master Campbell is stressed, he usually is this time of year…

After all, it is the anniversary of the Golden Cave incident.

He keeps to himself, staying in his study for most of the day, quiet too. You stand in front of the study dutifully guarding it from any of the staff who may need to ‘bother’ him, you are an extension of him so you may speak for him today.

It is almost a rough day for you, it always has and always will be. Your father's death, the miners’ death, and there is no amount of money that will bring back the lives lost that day. There was a big scandal, the accident was talked about for days, and it suddenly went quiet until you woke up a year later.

You… Still wished you never woke up.

“(Last Name),” You nearly jump at the sound of Norton's voice coming from behind you, the study door is open, “I need you.” Low, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispers those words in your ear.

You can't help the shiver up your spine, nor stop him from pulling you into the study.

The door closes silently but the lock if it echoes like a deathbell.

In the end, he won. 

“Master Campbell!”

He won, a victory long deserved and he is basking in the light of it.

“Please, Master Campbell!”

Here you are the prize, laid out on his desk, your arms pinned down and eyes gloss with tears and shameful desire. Your uniform is a mess now, the apron tossed to the floor, the top ripped open at the top exposing your chemise— Which he tore open to touch your breasts—, the skirt lifted and old fashion open drawers he has you wear— Only you— Giving him free excess to your cunt.

You are glowing in the afternoon sun peeking from the partially open curtains, you are trembling as you are recovering from the first orgasm he drives you to. He licks his fingers as you are trying to gather your senses, something he doesn't allow as he pulls out his hard cock from his trousers.

A couple of unworthy souls, the burnt scars on the left side of his face and body, and now he has it all. Including you.

It is laughable, he has laughed about so many nights alone in his study with a glass of bourbon, he won it all!

Norton fucking Campbell has made it to the top!

From the bowels of the earth to the highest point of the sky, this bastard has risen above them all! The price is well worth it to have that thieving boss’ daughter right here. Yes, that mine owner's daughter serves that runt Norton Campbell like a whore! Cleaning wherever the chores take you before night falls you here on his bed.

Finally, the sight before him has made the years of torment almost worth it…

You cry out his name, his first name, as he thrusts hard and deep into your quim; he groans with a grin on his face as once more your velveteen blissful walls squeeze around him. Oh, he knows how deep he is, so deep there is a bump at your lower stomach as his cock kisses your cervix, it makes him feral as he can touch it and know you feel it too.

The first time you touch the bump, you nearly fainted from shock, instead you fainted from how many times you cummed that night. Norton is insatiable when it comes to you.

A wolf with his jaws around the perfect sacrificial lamb, he will devour you each time.

“So fucking tight,” Chuckling as he pins your arms above your head with one hand and another groping roughly your breast. “Such a perfect cunt, and it's all mine.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, tears at the corner of your eyes, your body is screaming for him to move. It is cruel how your body welcomes him like a lover, your mind only accepts this as a transaction between employer and employee.

Even if it is inappropriate, you need to survive.

“Yes, Master Campbell…” Knowing he wants to hear you agree, “You are… So much…”

“Pft, you are still terrible at bedroom talk,” It puts one of your legs on his shoulder, “Not like it matters as I am going to fuck you until all you can say barely is my name.” A promise he always makes good on, staff already has heard half of the sexual encounters between the two of you.

Norton is not a mess you do not recall in the Golden Cave, he learned and had fun with others just to ruin you for anyone. You are his toy, his prize, his one and only; so long as he has his status and power, you will remain here.

Forever, he made the perfect gilded cage. You should be thankful you wormed your way into his heart.

The creaking protests of the desk, the slapping of skin, your body falling apart and he is rebuilding each time, and he is pulling you down into the abyss with each kiss on your lips.

“You're mine,” Possessive, “That's it, go on singing little canary, give me your all.” Demanding.

Norton's hands are all over your body, his teeth too as he marks your skin. Greedy.

The sun shines the brightest these days, or maybe this particular day it decided to shine brilliantly. Fortunately, the vampiric Lord has brought an large dark umbrella for the stroll his he is taking with you. A ruby eye gaze up upon the large statue of group of heroes— Hunters. The former village turned town, a historical town now, honors them at the entrance of the park plaza.

The vampire careless about this statue as he walks forward into the park. There are plenty of humans walking about, some for jog, some meeting a friend or family, others taking a break or sightseeing. The pale skin man is doing a bit of the latter, both sightseeing and waiting for his beloved. Tilting back the umbrella to gaze up the beautiful statue made. It is a marble statue of the Scared Ancestor stands surrounded by a water fountain and flowers of various types. The sun shines behind the head giving the statue the glow of a saint.

It is placed in the center for all to see the true guardian of this former little town. For the reminder of She who gave up everything to love and protect humans.

"Done, my love." Walking freely under the autumn sun waving your arm at him as you jog over to him. Beautiful as ever in these new century clothing, he cannot complain as your jeans are lovely around your thighs and behind. A quick kiss on the lips as you join his side under the umbrella, his arm out for you to take as starts walking with you.

It is different to able to walk you during this day in age, from what he was told by one of your children that he looks like a "goth boyfriend"— Offensive only because he is your husband, not a boyfriends.

"They are going to send it right over once they have the seeds in stock." He loves the sound of your voice, he leans close to hear it. "I hope the trolley ride here was not painful, it often becomes crowed during the weekends.

He uses his arm to hold the umbrella as he uses his hand to speak, "Not at all." He found his way to keep his vow of silence much easier these days. Humans truly are a wonder. Victor reaches into his coat pocket, "It gave me a chance to pick up your first gift." Having over a small box for you to open. You take it from him as he guides you to a park bench in the shade. You smile as you open the small box after sitting down besides him. The Embrace— Victor— Closes the umbrella and rests it beside his leg, watching you with a gentle daze.

"By the moon," Gasping at the ring, a ring you thought long gone after you left the Sanguine Castle. It was dark times, a time you turned away from him, when you found yourself a mother to the first human-vampire child— What is later called a dhampir. Not long after, you then become known as the Sacred Ancestor— The opposite of the Embrace— And sired only one vampire, the Exorcist.

Though the past was dark, the love you both shared still bloomed in blood and darkness. The war between night creatures and humans ended when your children awakened you from your slumber. You took the moon away from the vampire who plunged the realm into the night, bashing the children of blood into the realm of shadows where their father exiled himself.

So many long years, the return of vampires was long ago and Count's Banquet took control. A new generation of vampire, a small pocket few across the world, upholding what they call the 'masquerade'. Your children keep an eye out on them.

Embrace sought you out, his first and only blood bride, his beloved. Embrace had concubines during his reign, but never took a blood bride after you left him. You know him before he became the first vampire, before given the title Embrace, and you trusted him to sire you.

Seeing your expression of shock and near tears at the sight of the simple golden ring he has commissioned as Victor the Herald. A time before the dark secrets took over and lost himself to the hunger of blood.

Victor smiles, "My love." A voice within your mind, the connection still runs deep. You miss his true voice, and only for you do you hear it through the connection.

Watching him take the wedding ring out of the box. You present your left hand to him, Victor kiss the back of your hand as he places the ring on your ring finger. Still a perfect fit.

Many vampires let go of their human birthdays to celebrate their day of awakening as a vampire. You do not, you remain grateful to your parents' sacrifice and celebrate your birthday despite you becoming a vampire. It never sat right with you.

You hold your hand up to the sky watching it shine as bits of sunlight pass through the leaves, the inscription on the ring resorted as well. It is the vow of union.

"So, might I see my second gift?" Putting your hand down and smiling at him.

"Patience, my blood bride. Let us first return home."

The return was about three hours ago, two of those hours after where him worshiping you. You thought that sex was your gift and you did not mind that at all. Victor is an amazing lover, the bond you both share enhances in to a near spiritual level.

Blood, body, and mind, as your sire he has taken all of this. As your husband, he has given you a taste of his blood freeing you from being just another fledgling. You are his blood bride, his one true mate, and he will never betray you again.

"My love, what is this?" Waking up from your nap with a yawn, "Hehe." Giggling as he kisses your cheek as he helps you sit up and places a long box on your lap.

"Join me downstairs. Take your time, there is no rush." Another kiss as Victor winks at you (rather silly given the other eye is covered) before leaving you. You open the box to see a silver dress that sparkles as you move it. Oh. You bring it yo your chest as it feels so… Nostalgic.

Victor waits outside in background of your shared home, a decoration of lights and table with food for two and a cake you know your children had a hand in ordering. It very romantic, intimate, and the moon lingers high in the sky. Victor sees you walk slowly out of the home, the dress beautiful on your body. You took your time as he can see you not did your hair and makeup, but can smell the soap you use only for special occasion.

"I hope I wasn't taking too long." Taking his hand as he offered it to you. You were lost for moment before coming outside as Victor is wearing a suit similar to what he used to wear as Embrace. Handsome, terrifying to some as he does not wear the mask to hide his skeleton exposed side of his face. One of the marks on his body that was a price of becoming who he is.

"The best things comes to those who wait. Do not apologize, I said for you to take your time." Guiding you to the table. Pulling out the chair for you, ensuring you are comfortable, then sits himself down.

Dinner under the clear night sky, talking, eating; it is a simple gift and means so much to you— Both of you. It has been too long, far too long the separation between you both. Embrace, Sacred Ancestor, and the children you both had from separate partners.

"I missed you." Breaking the easy silence, "When Count's Banquet told me of your slumber…"

"Dreaming of you endlessly."

You look up at him, "Truly?"

Victor nods, "The night you left. I tried to find the right words to make you stay, however, it your choice in which led me to realize I became what the book wanted. You warned me… The others encouraged the monster, and for a time… I enjoyed it."

It is complicated. It was complicated when Victor found the book, complicated when he swore to keep it hidden by any means from mortals, and heavily complicated after he came the first vampire.

He stands up, moves around the table before going on one knee before you, "You showed me the light— You are my light in the shadows." His silver moonlight, you left your goddess and mother to be with the one who rides the boat in the river of blood.

"Stumbling in the darkness is normal. You grasp myself despite the temptation that tried to swallow you whole." Leaning down as you turn in your chair, hands cradling his face. You kiss his forehead before resting yours against his. "Here you are once more, not as Embrace, but as Victor. My Victor."

Your beloved breathes in deep as he stays in place as you kiss him, a kiss he would have endured all sorts of torture to have.