Always wanted to know the truth behind Loki's hatred toward his brother and father? Loki has a perfect, happy second life on Earth, pretending to be a mortal so he can be with Jane. Unfortunately, Odin has other plans for Jane Foster; she needs to c...
"Your place is here, my son! In Asgard, with your brother. He needs your sharp mind, especially since he often struggles to come up with intelligent ideas." Odin rolled his eyes, emphasizing the word 'intelligent' with a hint of exasperation.
"Father, I'm not planning on living there," Loki replied, trying to explain his desire to explore. "I want to see for myself how humans live."
"I can tell you how they live. Their lives are short; they're always rushing, afraid they'll miss something in their fleeting existence. They don't know how to enjoy life, let alone live it. You won't find what you seek on Midgard."
"Shouldn't I discover that for myself?" Loki shot back, meeting Odin's gaze defiantly. The Allfather sighed and shook his head.
"My mind is made up. You are staying here. Thor needs to learn much from you if he wants to be king in two years."
"Why not just make me king?" Loki stood tall, his pride radiating as if he were already wearing a crown.
"You know why!" Odin's expression turned serious. "You are not an heir by bloodline."
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"How could I forget?" Loki rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. The memory of visiting Jotunheim lingered in his mind—the moment he discovered his true heritage. The sight of his hands turning blue like a Frost Giant's had left him reeling. He had hurried back to Asgard, desperate to confront Frigga. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Mother?" he had asked, his voice trembling.
"There are many things I wish to tell you, though I'm not certain what you want to hear," she had replied, her expression calm but her eyes betraying a flicker of sadness.
"I want to know who and what I am!" he demanded, frustration bubbling over.
Her smile faltered, and sorrow washed over her features. "How did you find out?"
"It doesn't matter now—just tell me!"
And so, she had revealed the truth: how Odin found him abandoned, too small to survive among his own kind. The revelation had shattered him, and it had taken two long years to come to terms with it. Anger had consumed him, aimed at everyone and everything, driving him to seek escape from Asgard. He had discovered a way to trick Heimdall, the Gatekeeper, and cloud his sight, allowing him to slip away unnoticed.
After fourteen months of rage, he realized he was not angry with his parents but with Laufey, his biological father, who had abandoned him. Thanks to Odin, he was alive; thanks to Frigga, he had known love. He no longer wished to run but found solace in visiting different worlds, and he had yet to explore Midgard. Hoping for his father's blessing, he was met with refusal. Left with no choice, he became invisible to Heimdall and ventured to Midgard on his own.
He visited Earth regularly, fascinated by the mortals. Their lives, though fleeting, amused him; they reminded him of ants—vulnerable and perpetually busy, scurrying about as if every moment mattered. He had roamed many continents—Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa—but found himself most drawn to the chaotic streets of New York, where the pace was frenetic and exhilarating. Disguised in a suit, he blended in, pretending to be someone important—a banker or politician. Most people ignored him, but a few noticed and stared. Many women flirted with him, sending silent invitations through winks and smiles, but he never accepted. He would never choose a mortal woman over an Asgardian; he relished the attention, yet he knew he had no interest in a fleeting romance. To him, a hundred years felt like a mere second.
He had seen many women gazing at him, but none had captured his attention like one particular woman. After an unsatisfactory meal at a local Chinese restaurant, he wandered the streets, feeling slightly unwell from the strange food. Suddenly, he felt the familiar sensation of someone staring at him. With a smirk, he decided to surprise her by looking her way when she least expected it.
Their eyes met—deep brown eyes, wide with something unexpected. Instead of admiration, he saw fear reflected back at him. This caught him off guard. He smiled, but she quickly averted her gaze, turning away from him as if he were a threat. Did she know who he was? No, that was impossible. She was merely a mortal; how could she grasp his true identity as an Odinson, a Demigod, the brother of Thor?
He turned to see her walking alongside a man who was oblivious to her distraction. Loki found her beautiful in her fragility, sensing an underlying strength within her. As she glanced back, he instinctively cast an illusion, cloaking himself in invisibility. His heart raced; could she truly see him? No mortal had ever pierced through his illusions. Even Odin and Thor struggled to discern when he was using his magic.
But there she was, staring directly at him, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, her attention shifted back to the man as he asked her something, pulling her back to reality. Loki exhaled, relief flooding over him. What had he been worried about? She was just a mortal, and he would likely never see her again.
He brushed off his anxiety and continued his stroll through the night, the streets of New York alive with energy. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter had stirred something within him, something he hadn't expected to feel. ___________
A/n: Well what a surprise xD it was him.
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