I think I wrote this because I've been on too much Tumblr and they all love Loki there... So here's my Loki Second Person POV of the movie, Thor.
You grew up the very stereotypical little brother. Your older brother got all the attention, all the praise. He was strong and handsome and adored. You were cleverer, but you felt like nobody noticed. You resented that a little, but he was your brother, you loved him, and he loved you.
Fast forward to the day your father announces which of you will be chosen to be King. It's him. You're not surprised, but you aren't happy about it, either. Your father is just another person blinded by your brother's charm. He cannot see that your brother will make a horrible king. You decide it is your job to show him.
If you were being honest with yourself, you'd admit that you planned the attack on his coronation day just a little bit out of spite; any day would have done. Just as you suspected they would, your brother and your father fight. You hoped that hearing that your brother wanted to wipe out an entire race would impress upon your father that he is an unfit king, but he seems unfazed.
However, your brother is not rolling over so easy. He takes you and your friends into a battle already lost, which you protect your lives against by informing a guard so you can be saved. When you come home, your father is angry. He tells your brother he is unfit for the crown. You wish you could smile. Then he exiles your brother, your friend, and for a moment, you are crushed. You wanted your brother out of the way so you could be king, yes, but exiled? You may never see him again.
You rationalize: maybe it's better this way. Maybe the kingdom is truly better off without your brainless, hotheaded brother waging war. Maybe YOU are better off without him.
Even with your brother gone, your father makes no announcement that you will be made king. He makes no sign that he is even considering it, and as you brood on that, you find yourself wondering exactly what happened in Jotunheim. Your brother had yelled a warning about the Frost Giants touching you, but when one got a hold on you, nothing bad happened, your skin only tuned blue. Could that have frightened your brother so much? Perhaps it had only happened to you. Could the Frost Giant's magic have such a different effect on you?
There's only one way to find out. You go to the Casket of Ancient Winters, looking for you don't even know what answers. Its power calls to you. You hold it, and your skin turns blue and you feel the transformation through your whole body and you don't know what's happening.
Your father is behind you, but you cannot find it in yourself to be embarrassed or ashamed at being caught. He is your father, and if he doesn't have the answers, nobody will. You demand the truth, you plead for it, and he delivers.
Suddenly it all makes sense, why your brother was the favorite child, why he was chosen to be king, why you were always in his shadow. He is your father's son, and you are your father's oldest and most bitter enemy. That information raked through you, shredding you to pieces. You don't want to be a Frost Giant. You want to destroy that part of you. So you plan to. You plan to set up an attack on your realm and your father, and then you will slay the Frost Giant king and PROVE that you are NOT one of them, and that you are a worthy king, and that you are a worthy son.
The only wrench in your plan appears when your mother says that your brother may yet return. The idea turns your stomach. You don't know when the seed of jealousy you have always lived with sprouted into such a strong resentment, but it certainly has. You will not allow your brother home. You go to him in the place of his exile to tell him father has died and that he can never return home. You tell him mother doesn't him home. You know how gullible he is, and you know that such a lie will keep him from fighting his way back to Asgard.
You would have left it at that if it weren't for your friends. HIS friends. You thought that they would be loyal to you when you rose to the throne, but instead, they abandoned you for the sake of your brother. You finally understand, without a doubt, that no matter what you do, you will never be free from your brother's shadow, so long as he lives.
And that infuriates you enough to do the unthinkable.
You send the destroyer. It terrifies you, what you are doing, but you justify to yourself that it has to be done. He pleads with you, not to spare his life, but to spare the realm he has been banished to once you've killed him. It's a fair enough trade. You have no reason to destroy the puny little Midgardians.
You strike to kill, and when it is done, you return your focus to the coming invasion of Frost Giants. However, your brother not only survives, but regains his power (just as he would, wouldn't he). He returns home just as you kill the King of the Giants, but he is too late to stop you. You WILL destroy all the Frost Giants. And then you cannot be compared or related to them, because they will not exist.
You set the bifrost to destroy them. And just when it seems like there is nothing left your brother can do, he destroys the bifrost and destroys your plans and destroys your future and destroys your life. He catches you before you can fall into the abyss, and your father catches him, and you realize that you have never truly been a part of this family. You have never truly been a part of Asgard.
You grasp, one final time, for your would-be father's approval, and he tell you, "No, Loki." And your heart wrenches because you finally understand that there is truly no place for you in any of the nine realms. You let go, and you fall, and you hope that the death will be a less convoluted mistress than life has been.
I don't think I've ever written 2nd person before... I've always wanted to, though. Let me know how I did. Should I never write like this ever again?