rhowena

(In response to THE HOLE IN THE CENTER OF THE FIRST THOR MOVIE. OKAY, ONE OF THE HOLES IN THE FIRST THOR MOVIE.)

Very, VERY late, but I'm going to respond anyway.

First, a key point your analysis overlooks is that Laufey was neglectful -- he abandoned Loki to die at birth for the crime of being a runt, which may well be one of the reasons for Loki's insecurity and abandonment issues as an adult-- so "And your death came by the son of Odin!" is, as much as anything else, a statement that in violating his own obligations as a parent, he forfeited any claim to Loki's filial loyalty or affection. (I'm reminded of the original Frankenstein's theme of 'if you abandon your kid as a deformed freak and don't make sure it's properly cared for, don't act all surprised when said kid grows up to hate you'.) This angle is emphasized more in an earlier draft of the script where Loki reveals his identity during his ploy:

Laufey: Ah, the bastard son. I thought Odin had killed you. That's what I would have done. He's as weak as you are.
Loki: No longer weak. I now rule Asgard, until Odin awakens. Perhaps you should not have so carelessly abandoned me.

To further illustrate that no, Loki killing the asshole whose only contribution to his life was leaving him on a rock to die was not and was not meant to be seen as a horrifying act of villainy, a couple of parallels: in the comics,

War of the Realms spoilers

At the climax of 2019's War of the Realms event, Loki kills Laufey (after being eaten by him several issues prior) and this is portrayed as a heroic act which earns him a happy ending he has no idea what to do with

and in the MCU itself

Infinity War spoilers

Loki naming himself "Odinson" before trying to stab Thanos is a subtle callback to "And your death came by the son of Odin" (+ "I could have done it, Thor! For you, for all of us!"), also partially motivated by a massive grudge for which I don't blame him in the slightest, and the following sums up my and probably Thor's reaction to the entire stunt:

Daenerys: I don't want you to be a hero. Heroes do stupid things and they die. Drogo, Daario, Jorah, even this Jon Snow... They all try to outdo each other; who can do the stupidest, bravest thing.

More broadly, I believe that understanding the intended story requires examining Loki's arc as a deconstruction of cliche fantasy stories where the protagonist finds out about their super-special secret parentage and instantly drops the people who raised them in favor of their newly-discovered "real" family:

You must not imagine that Shasta felt at all as you and I would feel if we had just overheard our parents talking about selling us for slaves. For one thing, his life was already little better than slavery; for all he knew, the lordly stranger on the great horse might be kinder to him than Arsheesh. For another, the story about his own discovery in the boat had filled him with excitement and with a sense of relief. He had often been uneasy because, try as he might, he had never been able to love the fisherman, and he knew that a boy ought to love his father. And now, apparently, he was no relation to Arsheesh at all. That took a great weight off his mind. “Why, I might be anyone!” he thought. “I might be the son of a Tarkaan myself—or the son of the Tisroc (may he live for ever)—or of a god!”

I have hated this cliche and all the awful things it says to real-life adoptive families for as long as I can remember, and coming at the movie from that perspective, "And your death came by the son of Odin!" is a moment of most glorious catharsis that I cannot help but love Loki for. (And while I do not myself have a personal stake in the issue of adoption, there do exist adoptees who have no interest in connecting with their biological families and are thoroughly sick of overbearing assholes telling them that said lack of interest is a tragic flaw that needs to be fixed instead of a valid personal choice, and they likewise found that scene extremely cathartic.

On the subject of deconstructive parentage reveals, point of comparison:

Thor: I will not fight you, brother!
Loki: I'm not your brother. I never was.

Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? He had never truly been a Stark, only Lord Eddard's motherless bastard, with no more place at Winterfell than Theon Greyjoy.

---

Thor: Why have you done this?
Loki: To prove to Father that I am a worthy son! When he wakes, I will have saved his life, I will have destroyed that race of monsters, and I will be true heir to the throne!

When Jon had been Bran's age, he had dreamed of doing great deeds, as boys always did. The details of his feats changed with every dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father's life. Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself a true Stark, and place Ice in his hand. Even then he had known it was only a child's folly; no bastard could ever hope to wield a father's sword. Even the memory shamed him. What kind of man stole his own brother's birthright?

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.

Furthermore, if you look at the reactions of the rest of Loki's family, it's apparent that the basic point he's making -- that he still cares about them regardless of whose genes he has -- works both ways and he thus doesn't need to prove that he isn't going to ditch them in favor of his biological relatives because they understand the Tomato in the Mirror aspect of the situation perfectly and their first instinct is to frantically reassure him that no, really, you're still our son and we love you just the same and please, please don't freak out; Loki is just so locked into his own depression and all-consuming fear of rejection that their attempts to comfort him end up bouncing off.

Loki: What am I?
Odin: You're my son.

[...]

Odin: You're my son I... I wanted only to protect you from the truth.

Frigga: You are our son, Loki, and we your family. You must know that.

Thor: I thought you dead.
Loki: Did you mourn?
Thor: We all did. Our father--
Loki: Your father. He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?
Thor: We were raised together. We played together. We fought together. Do you remember none of that?

You hate yourself so loudly. You hate yourself at the top of your lungs. Your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. “Sorry I’m just rambling.” “Don’t worry about it.” “Just ignore me.” “Sorry if I’m annoying you.” “Sorry I don’t make sense.” “Sorry about that.” Sorry, sorry, sorry. You act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. As if the punching bag is you. If you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. You clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you’d never have to experience people’s loathing for you. And it meant you never heard their love. You drowned it out. You screamed your hatred over it. And you never got to hear it.