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Loki: The Frozen King (MCU)

Harken us, O great Blizzardweaver, Thou, The Blizzard-Shrouded Enigma, The Serpentine Trickster of the Waves, Whose power spans the depths of the universe, What is it that thou desire? O Master of Illusion and Deception, Is it fame, or the adoration of us mortals? Or doth thy heart burn with a deeper longing, A desire transcending mortals’ imagination? Answer us, O divine Mischiefmaker! We fight in thy name and in thy honor, For thou alone, we love, we kill! But thou art silent, Thou art uncaring, Answer us if thou wilt, Or wilt thou remain The Cryptic Watcher of the Ever-Changing Tides? -A Skald about Loki in the 12th Century, while fighting against Christianity and settlements discord.gg/Ept3v9hMHd Crossposting on FF. net I do not own the cover. I do not own marvel.

SnowApathie · ภาพยนตร์
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31 Chs

11: The Difference

A.N: I think this is the best chapter I have ever written. I had to ask some good authors for help, but I love the result (the second part)

[Chapter 11: The Difference]

A small moan escaped Loki's mouth as he opened his eyes. His sight was blurry, but he could see that the room was white, just like an infirmary.

"Took you time" voice out a voice that Loki easily recognized as Thor.

"Well, when are you graduating?" responded Loki, a small grin on his face.

"Oh, shut up!" answered Thor, flicking his finger at Loki's forehead.

"Don't you dare do that again," complained Loki, unable to rub his forehead as his arms were in some sort of cast.

"Or what? What can you possibly do like that? Blow me some air?" mocked Thor, a grin also spreading on his face.

Loki looked at him with his eyes squinted and spat on his face.

"…"

A silence occurred with Thor looking frozen, he had not expected this!

"You're going to die" announced Thor before clenching his fist and positioning himself above Loki.

"That's enough, boys!" interrupted Frigga with a stern gaze.

"He spat on me!" complained Thor, looking at his mother, flabbergasted.

"You started it" responded his mother.

"I did not!" yelled Thor, feeling a sense of unfairness growing in his heart.

"That's enough, I said," repeated Frigga with a mad expression. "Let your brother recover."

"Fine. Babye snake boy," said Thor, waving his hand and going out of the room.

"Snake boy?" questioned Loki, confused. One eye widened while the other was squinted.

"Don't ask," said Frigga with a small wave of her hand, which held a knife in it. Loki looked at her. She was peeling an apple.

"Thanks," said Loki with a smile. He liked apples.

"Not for you," said Frigga before taking a bite.

"…"

"I also want one," said Loki with a saddened face.

"Then go get yourself one." Responded Frigga with an uncaring expression.

"I can't move!" complained Loki, trying to break free from his restraints.

"Not my fault," she said, shrugging her shoulders with some sort of royal grace.

He looked at her, flabbergasted, "Never said it was!"

She smiled before leaving the room and telling him, "Sleep well, you have to recover."

"My apple!" screamed Loki in hopelessness.

Frigga ignored him and closed the door.

'Why???? What did I do to deserve this?'

—(Line Break)—

A young girl ran, her legs stuttering from the little strength they carried. Her stomach grumbled hungrily, but there was nothing left for her to eat. She hadn't eaten anything for days.

A small group of silhouettes ran behind her, chasing her, hunting her.

If only she could escape those monsters.

Alas, life was a vicious circle of circumstances and results, each determining each other. They had lost everything. Without any money, they could not eat. Without food, she grew weak. And the weak were prey to the stronger ones.

But even those stronger than her didn't have much left, so how weak was she?

Anarchy ruled the planet.

And she was but a little girl with an ill father and no mother. Nothing she could do would ever change that. She couldn't even escape her fate of being mistreated by those monsters.

Monsters…. They were just as broken as everyone else on this rotten planet. They were just weaker beings that had fallen to the ugly truth of life.

The girl raised her hood above her head, hiding her tormented eyes, filled with vigor; her fists were clenched, but her sight was directed at the hopefully better horizon.

One where she and her father had food.

The monsters started to scream with their broken voices. "Yes, hide that face!" screamed one of the men behind her, his steps crooked. The young girl could smell the booze oozing from his mouth, meters away.

"You're one of them, aren't you!" screamed another one, his eyes squinted at her with burning rage.

'No! I'm not.' She screamed in her mind, unable to respond or defend herself. 'Why do you think so, just because Papa called me pretty?' She had already tried to respond to them, but no, they didn't listen. Hitting her calmed their pathetic little minds and divulged the rage, even if a little.

'I look like all of you!'

'So, why? WHY!!!'

'Why wasn't I born normal?'

A tear welled up in her eye, but she quickly washed it away. She could not show weakness!

Uncaring of her pleas, the figures continued screaming atrocities.

"Traitor!"

"You think just because you're pretty, you're better than us, ey?!"

"Just die, vermin!"

The girl could do nothing but lament at her fate and continue running away with but a lingering hope that they would abandon chasing her.

'I hate this world!' she screamed again at nothing. She wanted to cry and destroy everything, but she could not.

The monsters were still behind her.

And her hope vanished into thin air, as she tripped because of the broken road. All around her stood figures that looked monstrous to her. No one glanced at her. They minded their own business, for this world was broken and fear governed their minds.

'Why do you all hate me!' she yelled with despair and unimaginable pain. She could see the glint of hate and disgust in their eyes.

Anger burned in her heart. She tried to get up, but the crowd at already reached her. Surrounded, she stared into their hateful eyes.

Once again, the monsters had caught up to her.

And like always, the pain accompanied her. It was just like her mother, raising her to fight against the unjustness of life.

Never-ending kicks rattled down upon her. Punches brought her even nearer to the cold ground.

She was spat on and cursed at in what appeared to be an endless stream of humiliation.

This was not the first time that this had happened. They always came back, each and every one of their punches filled with unfair rage. That seemed to diminish each time—even if a little.

But as always, they hadn't been able to break her. Not a single tear left her eyes, and unsatisfied they left her pummeled on the ground.

She knew she needed to be strong, for weakness would only break her

It took her multiple attempts, but through pure, sheer will, she had been able to get up.

In her mind, the image of her father flashed and brought her a new wave of determination. "Papa is waiting for me… he needs me…" she mumbled, pushing herself once more.

The little girl loved her father more than anything in the world. He was her world. He was her bright sun in the darkness.

He always told her to prioritize herself over him. That her well-being was more important than anything for him.

But her well-being was reliant on his!

After all, how could someone live without the sun?

So, with those saddening thoughts, she continued her search for food. She glanced at her body with a depressed expression. She would not be able to hunt in those conditions.

She looked at the trees for help, but they hold nothing more than pretty flowers.

Her heart torn apart, she took a stone and threw it at them.

Why could they live in tranquility with their beauty while she could not? Of course, the little girl knew the reason,

But it was so unfair!

Her steps became slower and slower, and now even her will was starting to crumble down. Even with her unyielding will of hers, she wouldn't be able to move for much longer.

She gazed at the sky. The night was approaching. Would she be able to find something to eat for her father?

"I'm sorry," she uttered in hopelessness, the image of her father as a stiff corpse filling her mind with sadness. 'Please don't die.'

A tear trailed down her face.

She knew what he would say. "It's okay, I don't need anything, I just want the best for you."

Of course, she would lie again, telling him that she had already eaten, but both of them knew this wasn't the case.

'Father…'

Oh, how ashamed she felt for being so weak.

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