Sinbound (Loki fanfiction)

Part 26

Author's note: Hope you're enjoying reading the story as much as I am writing it! My goal is to get to 25 parts for this story. But just because the book ends there, doesn't mean the story ends! That's right, a sequel is in the air! Anyway, I wanted to give a little heads up that if you're squeamish, there's a little gore in this chapter. Nothing major, but there's mention of blood and wounds. Ok, enjoy!

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Later that evening, the Avengers sit down to dinner. I tell them I'll be right down, and go into my bathroom. I lock the door behind me.

I hold myself up by my hands firm on the bathroom counter, trying to catch my breathe. If this doesn't work, I lose everything. I lose my family, my friends, my freedom... I lose Loki. I have to get this right.

I look up at my reflection, staring into my eyes. There's a dark ring around my iris. It's always been there, but lately it's gotten thicker. I may be growing stronger, but what is my power really doing to me? I was fine before it all happened, even though I've technically always had it in me. What if... what if I'm turning into something else?

"Turning into something else..." I say to myself under my breath.

I focus on my eyes, watching them dilate in the mirror. They change to a blood red color, and my hair shimmers into a rich shade of black. Take it slow, Ayça...

Then my fingertips turn black. I see my veins glow red under my skin, and I twist my hand around in circles to watch as is grows up my arm. I look back at myself in the mirror. This is the first time I've ever seen what others see when I change. I'm terrifying.

I let it go, let it take over me. My mind is still present, but in my heart I want to know what I can become. I close my eyes and focus, pushing the darkness to it's limit. I feel a sudden pain in my back, right in between my shoulder blades. I arch my back, trying to stretch it out which only makes it worse.

I cover my mouth as to not yell out in pain. The pain only increases. God, this is almost unbearable. I swear to god if I hulk out in this bathroom...

I hear a dripping from behind me. I turn around and see nothing. I look down, and see a small pile of blood forming at my feet. I panic, and twist around in the mirror to look at my back. Black feathers are ripping at my skin, growing out of my body. What the fuck?

I try so fucking hard not to scream out in agony. I grip the side of the counter, hearing my skin tear. My face is wet from tears that I've tried to wipe away. I slip a little on the blood and crash to the tile floor. I'm on my hands and knees, covered in blood and in excruciating pain. I have never felt this amount of agony before. It feels like I'm being ripped apart and I'm completely powerless over it. Then, I feel it stop.

I catch my breath and sit on the floor, immobile from the pain, and I can feel my body throbbing from the transformation. As I move my shoulders, it feels as though they're outside of my skin but... it's not painful anymore, it's actually going away very quickly. As I move them, I hear the wings beat in the air behind my ears. No fucking way, this cannot be real.

I gather myself to stand and look in the mirror. I... have... demons wings? They're raven black and boney at the top, but fall in layers almost to the floor. They arch high, a few inches above my head. They're beautiful. I exhale, my breath shaking. "Well, shit!" I say to my reflection, trying desperately to take in the sight of myself.

How do I get out of this? There's so much blood everywhere, I hope to GOD that doesn't happen every time. I hear footsteps just outside the door. Fuck.

"Darling, are you alright?" Loki calls from behind the door.

"Uh... just washing up." I say, completely failing at keeping my cool. My face flushes with anxiety, hoping he doesn't try to come in. If he finds out I locked the door to my own bathroom, he's going to get suspicious.

'We're waiting for you, will you be done soon?" He asks. God, he sounds so sweet and concerned. I could just say I started my cycle or something.

"Um... Sure!" I call out, getting some paper towels from under the sink to start cleaning up the blood.

"Did you just say 'sure'? Ayça, is something wrong?" He says, jiggling the door handle. "Why is your door locked?" He says, more stern this time.

"Loki, I can't... I can't-" I say, panicking even more.

"Let me in!" He yells.

"Please, don't shout!" I beg him, crying.

He uses his magic to unlock the bathroom door, and his face goes so pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. I don't blame him, sine he did just walk in on his demon girlfriend with black wings and covered in her own blood, helplessly trying to clean it up with paper towels of all things.

"My god..." He stutters out, covering his mouth with his hand in complete shock. He stands there like a statue for a moment, dumbfounded by the horrid sight. He shakes himself back to the present moment and kneels in front of me, cupping my face in his hands. He kisses me, and I feel so at peace. I must be dying, because every pain, every throbbing open wound, every stain of blood disappears. I simply melt into him.

When I open my eyes, I'm no longer in a pile of my own blood. I'm simply sitting on the cold tile floor of my bathroom with Loki, who catches himself from falling over all of a sudden. He looks exhausted. He sits back, leaning against the sink cabinets. He closes his eyes, panting.

"Loki, are you ok?" I ask, moving to sit in front of him. I place my hand on his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat. It's low and slow. "Oh god, what have I done?" I try to make him look at me by pointing his face at mine, calling his name. He smiles weakly.

"I'm here, my love. Don't you worry about me." He opens his eyes to give me a soulful look.

"What... I don't understand, what happened to you?" I ask, kissing his cheek.

"It takes... a lot of magic to take you down from a high like that. I'll be fine in just a moment, I promise." He says, his voice starting to sound more stable.

"Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" I say, pointing the empty paper towel roll in his face.

"Get that out of my face." He grumbles.

"It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

"Well, then get what's in your hand out of my face." He smirks at me. What a smartass.

I throw it behind me, and it clanks on the floor and rolls somewhere I won't see it for a while. I move one leg over his lap to sit on him, running my hands through his hair and kiss him. He holds me by my waist, then wraps his whole arms around me, anchoring me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and nuzzle my face into his hair. We sit there a moment, feeling the rise and fall of each other's chest as we breath in sync.