Odin you are officially my least favorite being to ever do anything ever. Stop breathing. The fact that you are alive makes me hate you all the more.
which fandom hates the father figure more
the Loki fandom or the SPN fandom. odin vs. john Winchester
are u guys fucking serious his birthright WAS to die holy shit are you all that fucking dense i am going to vomit on every loki apologist that exists do not bash The Allfather i will spit acid on u
yeah, but the problem is how odin raised him. do you honestly think you wouldn’t go over the edge if you were constantly told that you are meant to rule, only to be set aside without being given a good reason, so that a guy who might be a good warrior, but is shit as a politician can take the throne you were told could be yours. bc let’s be honest, even after the events of the first movie, thor is a bit of a dick.
of course loki is fucking crazy, but as a parent, odin sucks.
it’s not just about lokis’ “birthright”, it’s about where he came from. imagine you’re being told your whole life about this race of horrible monsters, how it would be better if they were all dead. and have your own parents raise you in the belief that it is your “duty” to eradicate them, if given the chance.
and then, one day, you find out that you are one of these monsters. not from your family, from the people who raised you, but by accident.
honestly, none of that excuses lokis’ actions. he killed people, he hurt those who loved him and he choose to cause others pain instead of trying to fix things.
-but odin is a part of the problem. he is king first and parent second. and while he probably cares about his wife and children, he did make some terrible choices in raising both his children.
Every night, he dreams of a storm. Lightning blinding his eyes and the following roars of thunder deafening his ears. He stands alone on the edge of a cliff, so close to falling down to an endless darkness. But he does not fear the darkness; he does not fear the fall. ‘If only to be closer to this storm.’ The bright lightning embraces him with comforting warmth and the booming thunder reminds him so much of someone he used to know. The one he used to love and envy so much. The golden one. The one who loved him no matter what he did or who he was. But he can’t remember the face. And without any memory, there is only this wild storm to comfort him. ‘So strange. To find comfort on something so dangerous, so frightful.’ The strong wind pushes him forward and he falls off the cliff. But he does not struggle. He simply lets it happen. He lets himself fall. To feel the lightning, to feel the thunder. To feel his brother’s power, his love, his warmth. … ‘Brother?’ …
Every night, he dreams of a storm. Every night, he wakes with tears and an aching heart. He bites his lips in frustration unable to remember. Remember anything. Outside, rain is falling. Storm is coming, soon. He listens to the rain gently hitting the window. He doesn’t want this gentleness. He wants a storm. He wants to be drenched in the strong whips of rain. He wants the lightning to hit him with all its might. He wants the thunder to cry for him. He wants it. He craves it. He wants the anger. He wants the roaring thunder. He wants it to call for him. He wants it to engulf him. He wants it. He needs it. It? What is this it? Who is this it? And why does he want it so much? Why does he miss it so much? He curses as the usual nothingness takes over. ‘One day. One day, I will remember. One day, I will find you. You, who reminds me of a storm. You… the storm.’