Sometime last week, I sat down and thought for a few minutes, and came up with a crazily simple solution for avoiding steamy scenes: write it from a different POV! So, while things may be insinuated at some point, they will not be shown. They may very well be nothing more than assumptions of whoever the POV character is at the time. :D
There isn't anything like that in this part; just letting y'all know ahead of time. The first "steamy" scene was going to be around Part 8 or 10. But no longer! The only "steam" in this serial is going to come from awkwardness/embarrassment in a non-erotic fashion, and/or hot water. The latter may be the result of an elemental fight further into the story; not sure if I'm going to keep that scene or not...we'll see.
Anyways. Enjoy!
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Vampire: Loki/Thor x Reader
Part Three
You step from the carriage, clutching your pathetically small bag of belongings to your chest. Spitting rain and flashes of lightning cast the odd mansion and surrounding trees in leering shadows. It almost seems lopsided; the second and third floors have ceiling-to-floor windows, while the first story has regular sized ones. The half of the mansion hugging the mountainside has sick-green and red creepers crawling up it, while the half extending away from the mountain seems to be under construction.
Loki snaps open an umbrella over the two of you, the black case in his other hand. “You couldn’t have waited for me to escort you down?” he asks with a bemused expression. He puts his hand on your back and propels you to the door before you can answer.
You have just enough time to note that the roof seems odd as well, then you’re through the door. The dark wooden foyer is lit by a chandelier above. Black sconces set into the plain walls and candelabras set upon Gothic tables light the rest of the room. To the left, a flight of stairs leads up into darkness. To the right, two short steps lead to a living room. In the dim lighting, it’s difficult to tell, but you think the couch legs are fashioned like claws. And are those skulls in the fireplace?
Loki pointedly wipes his feet on the mat just inside the door. You hurriedly do the same. Loki hangs the umbrella on a rack near the flight of stairs and sets the black case beside it. “Come, I will give you a brief tour.”
He leads you into the living room. As you walk by a table, you curiously hover a finger over one of the candelabras. It’s not lit by flame. “Is the rest of this place outfitted with modern conveniences like electricity?” you ask.
“Of course. My brother never minded these things before. I doubt he will now.” He gestures around the room, pointing out various things like light switches and the controls to the fireplace.
You take in the intricately barred windows. Are they supposed to be snakes, or vines? In the wavering firelight, they seem to be moving.
He shows you the rest of the house that isn’t under construction. The kitchen, pantry, and dining room are all downstairs. Another staircase near the kitchen leads up to the sleeping quarters and library. He shows you the library first.
With a satisfied smile, he flings open the enormous polished doors. Ceiling-to-floor bookshelves line all the walls save the back one. The back wall is taken up by an unbarred window, and a window-seat with square compartments set in it.
Curious, you investigate. “Who owns scrolls anymore?” you ask.
“I’m more inclined to wonder why more people don’t own scrolls.” Loki pulls one out and unrolls it. You can’t decipher the strange symbols delicately painted upon the vellum. He goes on, comparing different writing styles and languages.
You chuckle at his enthusiasm. He continues his lecture until he leads you to your room. “Most all of your needs should be met here. There are several forms of entertainment, as well as clothing and a full bath.”
The room is styled much the same as the rest of the house. A giant four-poster bed, matching curtains around the bed and single window; even the television is set in a Gothic frame. “Thanks,” you say. You toss your meager bag of belongings atop a low dresser.
Rubbing your elbows, you clear your throat.
Loki cocks his head. “Yes?”
“Your brother…” You bite your lip. “He’s a vampire, isn’t he?”
“Aye. Might I add that I’m extremely grateful for your offer of aid?”
Your lips twist in a wry grimace. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“As has been told to me very often: you always have a choice.”
“In this case, my only other choice would be to let my sister die. And leave myself in the loving arms of a superstitious people.”
“That’s still a choice.” He matches your wry expression, then steps back into the hall. “Feel free to settle in. Or, if you wish, I can show you the place you are to never enter alone.”
With a sigh and a quick glance at the bathroom—a shower sounds wonderful—you say, “Let’s get this over with.”
Loki leads you back downstairs and retrieves the black case. Producing a small key, he unlocks a nearly invisible door set in the stairs. Once inside, he produces yet another key, and opens a trap door. Down a cold ladder you go.
At the bottom, a long dirt tunnel is lit by a single torch. Biting cold wafts through the tunnel. You expect to see the torch flicker in a draft of wind. It doesn’t.
Loki takes it and continues down the tunnel. You see other torches, unlit, lining the hall.
A solid iron door set in stone waits at the end. It, unlike the rest of the house, is relatively unadorned. The only markings on it are runes etched into the frame. Loki grinds the torch in the dirt. To your surprise, the door seems to glow; a dead glow that doesn’t light anything except itself.
“This is the entrance to the basement. Only enter if I accompany you. Even then…be wary.”
“Why did you put out the torch?”
“Do you want to suffocate?”
“Er—”
Loki pats your head as if you were a child. Or perhaps an untrained dog. “The light was mostly for your benefit. I will go in now. You, return to the house above. Should you need anything, knock.”
You nod, then point to the door. “What are the runes for?”
“Not here. My brother’s enhanced hearing will penetrate even this iron. He’s never been terribly clever—”
A low, stomach-churning growl sounds from behind the door. Loki ignores it. “—but I don’t want him to have more advantages than he already has.”
After a few more parting words, you return upstairs. Back in your room, you gaze out the window. You finger the intricate and thick iron-wrought lattice. This seems more like a prison than before. Outside, the seemingly ever-present storm rages.
You rifle through the dressers and wardrobes. There’s a mix of Victorian-era clothing and modern attire, more than one person could wear in a lifetime. As the wind bangs scraggly branches against your window, you wonder how many others have gone through this room. You wonder if they were as desperate as you.
You change into a pair of pajamas. As you slide into the bed, you tell yourself, “Brenna’s safe. She’s safe.” Fighting to keep your exhausted tears behind your eyes, you fall asleep.
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