The biggest problem finale is how badly this written (P2)
But in my opinion, the script s3 treats Aziraphale even worse than some takes after s2.
He receives no catharsis. No genuine moment of self-reflection.
By the end of the story he is still portrayed as vain, slightly condescending, and almost completely lacking empathy toward Crowleyâeven though that portrayal directly contradicts the character development he went through over the previous two seasons.
As a result, it feels as though all of this exists for one reason only: to make him accept Crowleyâs destructive plan out of guilt rather than conviction.
That may be the strangest writing decision of all.
First, make a character behave terribly toward the person he loves.
Then suggest that the proper way to make up for it is to agree to mutual self-destruction.
My problem isnât that they choose a universe where neither of them exists anymore.
Although, honestly, I also find the entire âreset everythingâ idea deeply disturbing.
Because it means they would both have to knowingly accept Crowley falling again and suffering through everything that followed.
Or Aziraphale would have to trade places with him.
Or they would conclude that they should both remain angels.
But in that case, the âusâ weâve spent six years following would never exist.
Personally, I wanted to see them actually argue about this.
I wanted them to discuss the consequences openly and acknowledge that perhaps a world without God, Satan, angels, or demons is simply the least terrible option available.
They didnât have to agree.
They just needed to have that conversation.
Instead, it never happens.
And that is exactly why the ending feels emotionally hollow.
There is another aspect that disappointed me deeply, particularly regarding Aziraphale.
I wanted him to experience a genuine âfallâânot literally, but as a piece of character writing.
To be left alone with his own crisis.
To lose faith in the ideals that had defined him for so long.
The problem is that the script first invents those ideals for him.
Because Aziraphale was never truly naive.
There is simply no believable version of him that honestly thinks Heaven is made up of âthe good guys.â
After everything he witnessed, that makes no sense.
That optimistic image was always a coping mechanism.
It allowed him to survive, avoid conflict, and outmaneuver people by pretending to be harmless, polite, and slightly absent-minded while actually being extraordinarily intelligent.
That is who Aziraphale has always been.
When he spends the beginning of the season quietly sabotaging the Second Coming through endless bureaucracy, that is perfectly in character.
But then the script suddenly asks us to believe that he sincerely thought he could reform the entire system from within.
To me, that isnât character tragedy.
Itâs character betrayal.
The finale almost seems to resent both of them.
Aziraphale is reduced to a fool and a kind of naivety he never possessed.
What happens to Crowley feels less like character development and more like a whump fantasy.
A charismatic, resourceful, brilliantly independent demon is transformed into someone who can barely function without Aziraphale.
Yes, Crowley has always been traumatized.
Yes, he has always been vulnerable.
Yes, emotional dependence has always existed between them.
But none of that ever made him incapable of acting.
I would have found it far more believable if losing his miracles had driven him into panic or forced him to run away.
That would have been entirely consistent with his character.
His avoidance has always come from fear, despair, and a desperate instinct to survive.
Instead, he simply stays where he is and slowly destroys himself.
Not because that is the logical next step for his character.
But because the plot requires it.
Which is why the ending feels less like the conclusion of a carefully written story and more like a fetishized codependency fanfiction.
Ironically, even many whump fanfics allow their characters to communicate, care for one another, and actually grow.
This finale barely lets them do any of those things.
This is why, to me, it doesnât feel like an honest exploration of depression or a respectful portrayal of the trauma Crowley has endured.
It feels far more like the fetishization of suffering.
His pain doesnât seem to exist to deepen his character or allow him to grow. Instead, it becomes an aestheticâsomething the story uses to make itself feel darker or to make its nihilistic ending easier to justify.
His depression never develops into an actual narrative.
It is never meaningfully explored.
It is never allowed to lead anywhere.
And that is what hurts the most.
Because it feels disrespectful not only to Crowley as a character, but also to the people who have seen themselves in him for yearsâpeople who recognized their own anxiety, fear, despair, and struggle in his story.
When mental illness is reduced to a convenient patch for a poorly constructed tragic and cynical ending. It becomes nothing more than a narrative device.
Crowley deserved far better than this
I donât have a problem with the ending itself. Even if itâs bad ending, even with main characters death, and even with word-destruction.
The problem is that the script stops making sense.
The characters say things that contradict their previous motivations. They make choices that donât grow naturally out of their development. The central conflicts never receive meaningful catharsis, and the most important emotional moments arenât properly earned.
It feels as though the writers decided on the ending first, kept a handful of scenes they considered essential, and then rushed to connect everything in between.
Thatâs why the ending itself isnât what disappoints me.
