Loki - season 2, episode 6 series finale -immediate reaction
Okay, so this time I’m gonna have to split this into two posts. This one is my reaction after just watching the finale, but this time it’s going to be mostly my emotional response, and the more considered post with images will have to wait till later. I don’t have the heart for it right now.
So yeah, spoilers ahead.
Well that tore out my heart and stamped on it!
I mean it was an utterly perfect story for a character like Loki, but I’m still devastated. I love it. And I hate it.
I love it on a story level. The whole season was beautifully done! Loki developed so much over the six episodes, and really won my heart back. I fell in love with the gang from the TVA, particularly OB and Mobius, and I warmed to Sylvie and just wanted her to be able to live the quiet life she’s wanted for so long.
I loved that they really went into the depth I had assumed I’d only get in a fic about the different attempts Loki made to fix things by going back in time. They didn’t just gloss over things, they really showed him trying. I was shocked when after he asked OB how long it would take him to learn everything, he went and spent CENTURIES doing it! My stomach dropped. Because can you imagine what that means for someone? Even someone as long lived as Loki? What that has to do to your mind? And that should have been the first clue things weren’t going to turn up roses.
Then he finally succeeds! But they don’t show it to us like we’re experiencing that moment, but more as though we’re an observer, rushing through it because it’s yet another repeat. And for one brief moment Loki is happy because he thinks they’ve done it. But no, it turns out to have been an impossible task!
And then he finds out that HWR basically gave him his newfound powers, and that he still had a lot to learn, and then we see THAT HE ALREADY HAD LEARNED! The way they kept dropping the sense of time on us, that sense of dread and urgency. And inevitability. *shivers*
How he tries, and tries, and tries to convince Sylvie, but can’t get through to her, and how he has to contemplate whether he’s the sort of man who could kill her. I loved how he visited Mobius to ask for his advice. My god. What a horrible conversation to have to have. But what trust he places in Mobius!
And I loved how he kept refusing to take the easy path. How he decided he couldn’t kill Sylvie, and how he realised there was another way. But OMG at what price!? I can’t….
But I hated how much this hurt Loki, what this took from him. When the gold from the rock trickles upwards to create a mockery of a throne, which is more a prison… just…. 😭 The look on his face once he knows what he has to do. He had to make the impossible choice, and he chose the impossible.
I love that it kept the tone of tragedy that has haunted Loki all through the MCU. I love how they were true to his character in that way, but AT THE SAME TIME allowed him to retain his new sense of self, all that growth we’ve shared through this series but also the change that he’s experienced while he’s been isolated during centuries trying to find a way to defeat HWR and keep the people on the branched timelines safe. His desperate act to do the right thing. And finally it is the right thing in the eyes of the universe and the audience, and yet he still loses. My heart just can’t bear it!
It’s perfect and it hurts.
Tagging @woodelf68 @pinkpondofasgard @projectprotectloki @scintillatingshortgirl19 @juliabohemian @galaxythreads @makerofrunevests @ladyofthestayingpower @thelightofthingshopedfor @sparklegemstone @iamanartichoke
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Soup and Sniffles
pairing: natasha romanoff x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)
summary: you're sick and dont want natasha to find out. she finds out, fluff esues.
word count: 961
notes: hey everyone this is the first fic im posting pls no hate 😄😘
You practically fall through your open window onto the floor of your bedroom, knees almost buckling underneath you. You’re able to catch yourself in just enough time to stop your face from slamming into the ground. The impact from your sort of fall is still loud, though, and you pray Natasha couldn’t hear it.
You realized you were sick two days ago, but only today had you really started to feel the full effects of your illness. School was a nightmare with a stuffy nose and constant headache, and with no time in between classes and patrol, you were absolutely miserable. But, not wanting to worry Natasha or risk being labeled as “useless”, you kept it to yourself and stuck it out. One fight in particular left you stumbling and sneezing, the guy’s ice powers making you feel even more sick. You’d managed to make your way to your shared apartment with Natasha. You couldn’t wait to take a much needed nap.
A knock on the door makes you jump up from your spot on the floor, which you happened to be very comfortable in. Natasha’s voice is muffled by the door.
“Y/N? What the hell was that?” she asks. Shit.
You panic. Clear your throat as quietly as you can, hoping to sound much less congested than you are. “Nothing! I’m ok, I swear.”
“I’m coming in,” she states, and she’s next to you before you can even begin to protest. She notices the carpet moved out of place under your feet and smirks. “Did you fall through the window?”
“Maybe,” you reply. She quirks an eyebrow at you. “Rough ni-” you start, but a cough racks through your body and you’re forced to double over. You recover as quickly as possible, shooting back up with a sniffle and a smile. “Rough night,” you finish. You break eye contact with her once you see the concern laced in her green eyes.
“I can tell. Did you get hit?” she asks, looking up and down your body looking for an injury that could be the source of your cough. She takes your face into her hands and studies the cuts littering it until your own hands push hers away.
“No, I’m fine. Well, I did get hit, but I’m fine. No problem.” You smile at her. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
The back of Natasha’s hand finds your forehead before you can react. Your mind tells you to pull away, but your body leans into the contact in search of comfort. She frowns as you sniff again. “You’re sick.”
“No I’m not,” you argue, finally finding the strength to pull her hand away from you. It drops to her side and her eyes search yours.
“Yes, you are. How long have you been sick for?”
“I haven’t been sick because I’m not sick.”
“Then why do you sound so gross?”
“I’m not gross.”
“You’re pretty gross.”
“I’m not sick, Nat! Jesus,” you swipe your hand under your nose and sniffle miserably. Her fingers find your face once more and she turns your chin to look at her, thumb swiping away a tear you didn’t know had fallen. Natasha looks at you, really looks at you. You’re shivering under her touch, just slightly, but enough for her to notice. Your eyes are sunken and red, as well as the tip of your nose and your cheeks. She looks back into your eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, barely above a whisper.
Tears fill your eyes and you let them. “I don’t feel good,” you tell her, and the wall breaks. She pulls you into her and kisses the top of your head. You're very aware of the grossness you're getting on her shirt, but she doesn’t care.
“I got you,” she whispers over and over into your hair, rubbing circles on your back as you sob. Eventually your legs simply give out, but she’s there to hold you up. Drags you over to your bed and pulls away, forcing you to look at her. She hands you a tissue to blow your nose into.
“Gross,” she comments. You giggle tearily and she smiles at you. “I’ll make you soup if you wanna go shower.”
“Mkay. C’n you do tha’ thing where you put m’ clothes in the dryer so they’re all warm?” you look up at her with the best puppy eyes you can muster. This time she giggles at you.
“I guess so. Try not to take twelve hours in the shower, I want hot water too.”
You know she really wouldn’t care if you took forever, as long as it made you feel better.
You jump in the shower, and when you’re out (45 minutes later), there’s fresh clothes sitting on the toilet for you, plus a fluffy towel. You throw on the clothes and ring out your hair, walking towards the kitchen to the smell of soup.
Natasha watches you and shoots you a small smile. “Better?” she asks.
“Yeah. Less gross,” you reply honestly. Your nose is a lot less congested and your shivering stopped for the most part. You plop yourself down in your spot on the couch and Liho, Nat’s cat, jumps up with you. You pull her into your arms and lay down on a pillow given to you by some distant relative, paying little attention to the sitcom running on the tv.
Nat turns to bring you a bowl of soup, but sees you passed out on the couch, snoring quietly. She walks over and grabs your favorite blanket from over the top of the couch, draping it over you and kissing your forehead. Notices you’re a lot less warm than before, smiles down at you. The soup could wait for later.
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i can't stop listening to the 'purpose is glorious' track from this season's ost and thinking about how lovely the title and its meaning are. it's just such an amazing underlying theme in this show, and - while i do have criticisms about some of the choices made for the series finale - i really do feel the writers wholeheartedly delivered in sending that message home. for me personally, loki's ending is so gratifying and a large part of that is solely from viewing their arc's conclusion with the perspective of this theme in mind. to have spent years watching this character i hold very dear to my heart struggle to find belonging, to feel as though they matter and there is reason in their existence, finally get a chance to show - and recognize - their worth was so, so rewarding. and honestly, i think the message behind the phrasing of 'purpose is glorious' is all the more meaningful because of how loki's arc finished. yes, the outcome was bittersweet; yes, we're left knowing loki didn't get the happiness they undeniably earned after everything they'd gone through. it smarts something fierce to know their journey up until they deviated from their timeline and became a variant, as well as seen their eventual intended fate. the ache is only worsened after witnessing everything that happens within the TVA and the entirety of loki's character growth leading up to a redefining moment where they willingly choose to undergo a nightmarish amount of time in the endeavor to do the right thing. of course we want them to emerge victorious when they've struggled for so long, but that's not the point. loki's final moments are them forfeiting their right to a happy ending to preserve the stories of others because all stories matter and should inherently reserve the free will to be written; as sylvie says, loki makes their choice so their loved ones and life across the multiverse still have a chance to belong somewhere and embrace their place in the world. the take away is that even burden can be glorious. even with all the hardships of life - all the inevitable heartache, disappointment, and grief we encounter just by being alive - we have meaning in our existence. there is meaning in the trials we face, and the suffering we endure in order to overcome them. our pain gives us purpose; it gives us the ability to love, to grow from and for each other, and choose to sacrifice our happiness for the benefit of another. loki's purpose was forged in the bonds of those they met in their time at the TVA and the sense of value they gained from their companionship. their sacrifice perfectly conveys how the human capacity to love is one of cosmic greatness, which can ultimately surpass our instinctual desire to preserve one's self. we can move immovable mountains and challenge insurmountable adversity in behalf of the ones we love and their welfare. if that isn't an act deserving of glory, I don't know what is.
tldr; loki's purpose is the friends they made along the way = as the saying goes, 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'. or: our own lives have purpose because of the connections we share with others, even when we are met with great loss.
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