Imogell

Imagine looking at this sweet, brave baby and thinking "Ah, yes, he deserves to be belittled and insulted repeatedly, treated like the villain for *checks notes* enjoying earthly pleasures and trying to make things better and save the universe and make Heaven and Hell stop treating people like shit, and not get the happily ever after he's dreamed of for so long."

@ezra-didntreallyfall

I think I bristle so hard at people correcting the way Aziraphale behaves when he finds Crowley in the alley and Crowley tells him to go away...

Crowley was getting sick of it. He'd taken the opportunity to reread Aziraphale's notes, and to thumb through Agnes Nutter's prophecies, and to do some serious thinking. His conclusions could be summarized as follows: 1) Armageddon was under way. 2) There was nothing Crowley could do about this. 3) It was going to happen in Tadfield. Or to begin there, at any rate. After that it was going to happen everywhere. 4) Crowley was in Hell's bad books. [Not that Hell has any other kind.] 5) Aziraphale was-as far as could be estimated-out of the equation. 6) All was black, gloomy and awful. There was no light at the end of the tunnel-or if there was, it was an oncoming train. 7) He might just as well find a nice little restaurant and get completely and utterly pissed out of his mind while he waited for the world to end. 8) And yet . . . And that was where it all fell apart. Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times-he thought briefly of the fourteenth century-then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him. Okay, so Hell was down on him. So the world was ending. So the Cold War was over and the Great War was starting for real. So the odds against him were higher than a vanload of hippies on a blotterful of Owlsley's Old Original. There was still a chance.

So I read Terry Pratchett's last book.

Listen, I don't want to argue about the finale. I just want to share my love of these ineffable dumb dumbs and the art I made to celebrate them. They were one of the earliest additions to the Wall of Hyperfixations.

I wonder if the Finale divide is based on age at all.

Just to let everyone know, the lights will never go out, the bookshop will never be closed and there’s an angel and demon waiting inside to have a drink with you.

oh, but imagine if your tumblr dash was now flooded with gifs and pictures of aziracrow hugging and kissing and saying 'i love you'. imagine if you could replay that moment when they hugged so tightly and grin widely, kicking your feet all giddy and happy

yeah.

Imagine finding a character you identify with. Someone physically and emotionally abused by his family. Someone who spent most of his life afraid - and for a very good reason too. Someone who found and built himself a home away from those who abused him. Someone who made friends and acquittances, who looked for and found hobbies and joy and small pleasures. Someone who loved deeply, who was careful and held onto hope.

It's an absolutely abhorrent message to end such a beloved story on. One that should never have even seen the draft table, let alone filmed. Aziraphale deserved to be loved. He and Crowley deserved to retire together and Win. They deserved to heal.