Startouched

God: Well I was gonna trash the whole thing and start over.

Crowley: What? You can’t do that! That’s not fair to the universe and the people in it. You don’t understand because you’re God.

God: Why don’t you make the decision, then. I can do whatever you want. We could restore the universe back to the way it was before the book was destroyed.

Crowley:

So I'm gonna list even more grievances I had with this ending, and how it will never work for me, and why many viewers are torn about it.

1. The entire point of the character of Jesus and what he represents, and why the way his arc was handled leaves a dangerous and grim message.

I loved Jesus in the series, I thought he was extremely tender-hearted, confused, torn and most impostantly he is so incredibly human. When I was watching the series, I assumed that his character was meant to represent the importance of unity and why humanity works.

When Jesus gains conciousness again, he immediately asks for his friends, his mother, he asks for the connections he made during his human days that mattered the most to him. He choose to reach for his people over destiny or power.

Despite being Jesus, he's portrayed less as a divine figure and more as someone trying to navigate overwhelming circumstances while clinging to the people he loves.

He ultimately wanders through Earth and continues to be defined by his desire for connection. That's why his arc initially felt so powerful to me. It seemed to be building toward the idea that humanity's greatest strength is its ability to form meaningful relationships with one another.

Love. That's one of the most consistent theme on the show. Time and time again, the story emphasizes that the connections we form with others are what give our lives meaning. Characters endure unimaginable hardships because of the people they care about. They find reasons to keep going because someone matters to them.

Because of that, I assumed his arc was leading toward a reaffirmation of one of the show's central messages: that love is what allows humanity to survive, to heal, and to move forward.

I didn't expect his arc to not feel rushed in a 90 minute run, but what we got was worse in my opinion. It wasn't just rushed, it was ultimately a plotline that just dissolved into this wierd, tragic excuse of a plot.

Jesus as well as humanity, gets erased à la infinity war thanos snap. Before he dies he tragically says how he never got a chance to give it a go.

This just...sucks!! What even is the point of having the representaion of love and unity just dissaper into particles hopelessly? what message does that leave the viewers? Why did we even follow his plotline if ultimately it led us to absolutely nothing?

2. Crowley's choice in the end is ultimately framed as selfless when in reality it not only selifsh, but cowardly.

Crowley's character has always been about taking a clear stance. He defies the systems that were built and rebels by choosing his own moral compass over blind obedience.

What makes Crowley compelling is that he acts. He questions. He pushes back. He sees injustice and refuses to quietly participate in it. Even when he's afraid (and he often is) he still makes choices. He still stands his ground.

That's why his "wish" frustrates me so much.

Crowley's choice is framed as selfless because he is willing to sacrifice himself. He is willing to give up his own existence if it means creating a world free from Heaven and Hell because apparently thats the only way free will can actually exist.

The problem is that he isn't only sacrificing himself. He is also sacrificing Aziraphale. The decision is not solely his to make, yet the narrative imposes that he has to take it upon himself anyway.

Also, What about Beelzebub and Gabriel who literally carved a live out for themselves outside of heaven or hell?

Or Adam who quite literally rejects the role assigned to him because he choose his own friends and family? He rewrote the universe in season one because he refused to destory it, he wanted to fix it.

Then there's Maggie and Nina whom whose entire role in Season 2 revolves around the idea that relationships only work when people are allowed to make their own choices, free from outside interference?

The series repeatedly celebrates autonomy, self-determination, and choosing the people you love over the institutions that claim ownership of your life.

That's what makes Crowley's decision to reboot the universe in the name of "free will" so hollow.

In a strange way, his choice mirrors the very institutions Crowley spent the story opposing. Heaven and Hell repeatedly make enormous decisions for others because they believe they know what is best. They impose their vision of the future on countless people without consent.

That is what makes the choice feel cowardly to me as well. Rather than confronting the broken systems and finding a way to change them while preserving the people he loves, he chooses a solution that removes the problem by wiping the slate clean entirely.

A universe without Heaven and Hell may sound liberating, but if achieving it requires erasing the very individuals whose lives give that universe meaning, then the solution begins to undermine the values the story spent so much time celebrating.

Also it's a choice that the he would never make. This is the same Crowley who, when the world was on the verge of ending, didn't choose a grand ideological solution. He wanted to run away with Aziraphale.

Crowley's priorities have always been remarkably consistent. No matter how much he complains, no matter how cynical he pretends to be, when everything falls apart his first instinct is to protect the people he loves and stay close to them. Which is why he dislikes Armageddon in the first place, he loves the world he's in, he just doesn't like the people in power who control it.

This is also the same Crowley who, the last time we saw him, kissed Aziraphale in a desperate attempt to get him to stay. He was begging for Aziraphale to choose a life with him.

That's why the reboot decision feels so disconnected from the character we've been following.

You're asking me to believe that a Crowley who couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Aziraphale would willingly choose a future where both of them cease to exist entirely?

if there is one thing Crowley has consistently chosen throughout the entire story, it is Aziraphale.

3. What the hell even was the point of the Metatron's character then?

Season 2 literally builds up this character in a way that suggests he is going to be one of the most important antagonistic forces in the story.

His presence is unsettling from the moment he appears. The way he manipulates conversations, the way he isolates Aziraphale from Crowley, the way other characters react to him, this all creates the impression that there is something deeply wrong beneath his calm and polite exterior.

The entire tragedy of the finale hinges on the Metatron's intervention. He is the catalyst for Aziraphale's decision, the reason Crowley and Aziraphale separate. He is also arguably the single most important character in the climax outside of Crowley and Aziraphale themselves.

Which is why I'm left wondering what the point of all that buildup was.

Season 2 encourages the audience to pay attention to him. It practically begs us to analyze his motives. Fans spent years discussing whether he threatened Aziraphale, whether he was lying, what his true goals were, and what role he would play in the final conflict.

Instead, the Metatron quite literally gets killed in the first 15 minutes or so. We don't even get him as anything remotely close to a fully realized antagonist. That's what makes the decision so baffling to me.

The framing around him suggested that he represented something larger: the corruption of Heaven, the abuse of authority, the systems that manipulate people while presenting themselves as benevolent.

If that's what he was meant to symbolize, then why remove him almost immediately??? that literally prevents the story from fully engaging with those ideas.

It would be one thing if his death served as the beginning of a larger conflict. Sometimes a villain dies early because they are merely the face of a deeper problem. But if the narrative never properly explores that deeper problem either, then the Metatron's storyline starts to feel strangely hollow.

Looking back, it raises the question of why the audience was encouraged to fear him in the first place.

Why dedicate so much time to establishing his manipulation of Aziraphale?

Why make him the architect of one of the most emotionally devastating moments in the series?

Why position him as the looming threat over the future for Earth?

If the answer is simply for him to die before any of those threads are meaningfully explored, then the character ends up feeling less like an antagonist and more like a narrative device used to force the separation in Season 2. And for a figure who carried so much thematic and emotional weight, that's an incredibly unsatisfying payoff.

4. The archangel Michael being the plottwist antagonist

This was not only predictable, but just hollow to me.

A plot twist works when it either recontextualizes what came before or reveals something meaningful about the characters involved. Michael becoming the true antagonist doesn't really accomplish either of those things.

Michael wanted to destory the world, including their own coworkers who Michael had some sort of likness towards. Michael does this because they are tired and just...I don't know actually?? a comical crash out??

Like, I get it, we only have 90 minutes, but more reason to either build up the Metatron as the actual antagonist who we were already exploring last season, or atleast make Michael's motives make sense??? They really just erased existance for the fun of it I guess.

5. Aziraphale's mistreatment and mischarectarization

As someone who adores Aziraphale, this makes me so mad. We got like, the fanon version of his character instead of the fleshed out angel we know and love.

Mrs. Sandwich verbally berates him, calling him a taker and that he is the reason whickber street is the way it is now. And like, I think if we view this from Crowley's perspective then sure.

From Crowley's point of view, Aziraphale left. He chose Heaven. He chose an institution that has repeatedly hurt both of them. Crowley is heartbroken, and the people around him are witnessing the aftermath of that heartbreak.

However, Aziraphale went to heaven in hopes because of Crowley and he was also trying to avoid the second coming from happening. I am frustrated with how much Aziraphale is put down for this choice and tries to give the viewers no air to feel actual sympathy as to why he choose to leave.

But anyways, a specific scene that to me felt out of character was when Aziraphale finds Crowley extremely broken and sulking on the floor, and Aziraphale begs him to get up. Ultimately Crowley pushes him away and the angel leaves.

That's not the lovingly stubborn angel I know.

One of Aziraphale's defining traits throughout the entire series is persistence. When he loves someone, he doesn't give up on them easily. This is the angel who spent centuries arguing with Crowley. The angel who repeatedly sought him out even when they disagreed. The angel who continued believing there was good in people, in humanity, and even in Crowley when others would have walked away.

So when he finds the person he loves completely devastated and clearly not thinking rationally, it feels bizarre that he gives up so quickly. I'm not saying he should have magically fixed the situation. Crowley is allowed to be angry. He's allowed to reject him.

But Aziraphale's response to rejection has historically never been, "Well, I tried once." This is the same character who spent six thousand years maintaining a relationship that Heaven and Hell both disapproved of.

Yet now, in arguably the most important moment of their relationship, he seems strangely passive. Their reunion was an absolute let down.

I will give Michael Sheen credit where it's due. His performance is one of the few reasons the scene carries any emotional weight at all.

His voice cracks when he talks about Crowley. The look on his face communicates heartbreak, regret, fear, and love all at once. Even when the script isn't giving him much, you can tell exactly what Aziraphale is feeling.

I can see the love on Aziraphale's face. I can hear it in his voice. I absolutely believe that Michael Sheen's Aziraphale loves Crowley.

The problem is that Michael Sheen is acting emotions that the writing doesn't fully support.

6. The completely useless Bentley sideplot

First of all, I think taking Crowely's ability for miracles was a dumb plot device to allow some stupid gangsters take his Bentley.

It feels less like a meaningful conflict and more like a mechanism to keep Crowley occupied until the plot needs Aziraphale and Crowley to interact again.

Anyways, yes Aziraphale helps Crowley get the Bentley back and that's kind of the "truce" between them instead of like,, I don't know maybe an emotionally charge conversation? Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship has always been carried by dialogue.

If the Bentley storyline absolutely had to exist, then at least make it emotionally relevant. Make the Bentley represent something. Make Crowley's attachment to it part of a larger conversation about loss, identity, or the life he built with Aziraphale.

It feels like the writers wanted a reconciliation without having to write the difficult conversation that reconciliation actually requires.

Instead, the Bentley subplot ends up feeling like a distraction from the conversation the audience was actually waiting for. If you're going to dedicate screen time to a side quest in the middle of a story that already has limited runtime, that side quest should accomplish something beyond moving pieces around the board.

7. The lack of intimacy in Aziraphale's and Crowley's relationship this season was genuienly such a strange thing.

I feel like Good Omens always was good at writing such intimately sweet and precious moments between these two. And I feel like here, this season ultimately fails to deliver that.

Again, David and Michael translate their love through their performance amazingly. The problem is the script doesn't seem nearly as interested in those moments as previous seasons were.

I have already complained about not getting any sort of kiss (when, again, they had literally already crossed that line in Season 2). But I think what makes it worse is what happens with the alternate versions of Crowley and Aziraphale.

We get a camera pan of their hands with wedding rings. The narrative goes out of its way to communicate that these versions of them are together.

Because the original Crowley and Aziraphale never got that.

The versions we spent years following.

The versions who shared six thousand years of history.

The versions who suffered, grew, changed, argued, reconciled, and fell in love.

Instead, the story presents alternate versions who have not lived through the same experiences and then gives them the visual shorthand of a happy ending.

They aren't the people whose relationship formed the emotional heart of the series.

So while I understand what the scene is trying to communicate, it doesn't land as a reward for me.

It lands as a reminder that the characters who actually earned that future never got to experience it. And that's why the moment feels strangely hollow. It's not that I needed a wedding. It's not even that I specifically needed a kiss.

It's that after Season 2 already made their romantic feelings explicit, the finale seems reluctant to give the original Crowley and Aziraphale even the smallest moment of mutual romantic fulfillment, while simultaneously making sure the audience notices the wedding rings on their replacements.

The result felt less like a payoff and more like a workaround. A way of acknowledging the romance without fully allowing the characters we've spent years loving to actually live it.

....And there's sooooo much more but i'll never shut up so i'll end my list here (if you want to add on to my list, be my guest, theres so much to say about this awful ending to such a beloved series!!)

Ultimately, I feel for the creatives who did care for this show yet had their hands tied when it came to this god awful ending. I feel for both Michael Sheen and David Tennant who put their heart and souls into these characters just for this to be the resolution. The cast and crew who worked tirelessly on this show and had to watch it crumble this way, I can't imagine how it feels.

But most importantly, I feel for the us, the viewers, whom connected with this show and followed it for years. The LGBTQ+ fans who for once, wanted a romance story that was promised ended right. For the queer love in the story to have been as loud as it had been in the past 2 seasons instead of just dancing around it.

After all these years, queer audiences are not asking for special treatment.

We're asking for the same thing every audience asks for: for the stories we invest our hearts in to follow through on the promises they make.

If you are deeply upset about the ending, you aren't alone, and you shouldn't feel ashamed for feeling this way. You have every right. Us people of the queer community, we are tired. We are tired that our stories never are fully heard, that our queer representation in media always ends in some form of cosmic tragedy. So many queer couples or characters we see ourselves in end up dead, separated, or we were led to believe their relationship would matter only for it to be treated like bait. It's as if people keep telling us we don't deserve love, that we don't deserve joy. That we should be greatful for the crumbs they give us, and we are so tired.

Good Omens wasn't suppoused to be like this. Aziraphale and Crowley's love for each other was meant to be taken seriously, it was building up for emotional cathartic moments follwing reflective messages. This show means a lot to queer people specifically,because we barely get stories where a relationship like theirs is allowed to exist with that much complexity and sincerity without being reduced to a joke or treated like an afterthought.

And some of us really did get to see ourselves in them: in the longing, in the restraint.

There's many queer people who feel connected to Crowley, with his rebellion, with the way he exists outside of every system that tried to define him, and with how alienated he often feels while still refusing to give up on what he believes is right. It's admirable to see a character whom has been cast out, labeled as wrong but still chooses love, still strives to stand up for his personal beliefs no matter what it costs him.

A lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community know what it feels like to be made to feel “other,” to live with that distance between yourself and the systems or communities that were supposed to welcome you, and to still keep searching for a place where you can exist honestly. Crowley carried so much of that.

I personally saw myself so much in Aziraphale, his character arc meant so much to me as someone who has a complicated relationship with religion and my queerness. Watching him wrestle between duty and desire. The way he tries so hard to do “good” while loving someone he wasn’t supposed to love felt painfully real. As a queer person who grew up trying to reconcile love with systems that taught us that love was wrong, and Aziraphale embodied that conflict with so much compassion and humanity. His journey mattered so much to me, to see him unlearn fear, to see him keep trying to choose love despite everything he had been taught.

Aziraphale, to me personally, represented that deeply human conflict of wanting to believe in goodness and belonging while also trying to make peace with parts of yourself you were taught to fear.

So it hurt deeply to see how unresolved his arc felt in season 3. Because for so many of us, his story was never just about whether he and Crowley would end up together. It was about watching someone who had spent so long carrying shame and trying to earn his place finally reach a point where he could choose love without fear.

And what do we get? instead of finally giving Crowley and Aziraphale the honest emotional payoff their story had been building toward, We get half-assed conversations between Crowley and Aziraphale that don't go anwhere. After everything they had been through together, it felt like they were still being kept at a distance from the very truth the story spent so long asking us to invest in.

And then the ending asks us to accept a sacrifice where they reboot the universe into one without angels or demons, without the versions of themselves we followed and loved. It's like they straight up ripped everything we saw ourselves in and loved apart and laughed in our faces.

These two characters loved each other so much, and the story's direction was never aimed for them to just disappear. These characters suffured so much, longed so much and chose each other over and over again just for the ending to make all of this feel futile.

Not just to the characters, but to us viewers who felt emotionally invested. Especially queer viewers who found something deeply personal in their story. For a lot of us, their relationship felt safe. It felt like seeing pieces of ourselves reflected back with tenderness. And when a story spends years building that trust, asking us to care, , to believe in where these characters are headed—only to make that journey feel like it led nowhere, the hurt goes beyond simple disappointment.

And then, the political climate we are living in makes the ending even more grim. At a time when queer people are still having to defend our right to exist openly, stories like Good Omens matter in a very real way. This story become more than entertainment. They become places where people feel seen, understood, and safe.

That’s part of why this ending feels so heavy. A story about two characters who spent centuries resisting rigid systems and finding home in each other ends without that love being fully honored, instead it ends with their disappearance. With sacrifice. With the versions of them we loved no longer getting to exist at all.

And this just, adds wound to the salt. Because queer people are constantly being told, in ways both subtle and explicit, that our lives, our love, and our futures are still up for debate. So for Good Omens, a show that lets be honest, has a major queer audience, erase Aziraphale and Crowley's romantic history and the thematic messages along with it.

We were genuienly left with nothing. The alternative versions of them didn't even feel authentically like Aziraphale and Crowley, so it doesn't hit. They get married yes, but we didn't really get to see the progression of their love or get to know these new versions on a deep level, so does it matter?

Aziraphale and Crowley didn't even get to kiss. And if you read them as aroace, that’s genuinely valid—people connect to these characters in different ways, and that interpretation matters too. A lack of physical romance can feel meaningful and affirming to a lot of people, and that deserves respect.

Howeveeer: they have kissed before.

But narratively, that’s also why this feels so frustrating for many viewers, because the story itself had already crossed that line. By season 2 especially, the emotional and romantic buildup was no longer subtle implication or fandom projection. The story intentionally framed their relationship as romantic, built around confession and choices neither of them could keep avoiding.

So the frustration isn’t “they needed a kiss or the story failed.” It’s that the narrative itself spent years building up so much intimacy and love between them in a way that clearly pointed toward resolution.

Which is why ending their story without ever letting them truly reach each other feels so painful. Not because every love story needs romance expressed the same way, but because their story was written around longing and around finally crossing emotional boundaries they had spent centuries avoiding.

The only kiss we have of them is genuienly emotionally devastating. It's a desperate declaration of love. It happens in the middle of fear and the unbearable realization that they want the same thing but can’t reach each other in that moment. And that’s exactly why so many people hoped the story would eventually let them have more than that.

And then, their love doesn't necesarly need to be translated with a kiss in season 3, sure. But it's not like we got any straight forward confession that mattered, and even if we had a semblance of one, it doesn't end up being relevant BECAUSE THEIR ENTIRE EXISTENCE AND HISTORY GETS ERASED.

Also, Crowely and Aziraphale are non-binary, and in the reboot version of them that gets erased too. Which also fucking sucks.

This is going to be long...buckle up!!

I will say, I believe my opinion is the general consensus. But if you are someone who enjoyed the ending, thats great, and you are free to peacefully share your opinion about if you wish to.

I've seen people trying to excuse the ending because of the pacing and time crunch, and while sure, the ending was always going to feel rushed because of it, however my biggest bone to pick with the ending was...what was the final message? I'm genuienly asking.

Like, Crowley and Aziraphale literally killed themselves and wished for a universe with no celestial beings or whatever, but...genueinly what was the ending of the show trying to communicate? Like, the world would be much better with free will sure !!! But free will literally already exists in the original universe.

Thematically, the series has always argued that people are more than the roles they're assigned. In Season 1, Adam defies his destiny as the Antichrist because he chooses the humans he grew up with over the role Heaven, Hell, and prophecy assigned to him.

Just like how Anatema Device refuses to spend her life following the path laid out for her. She learns that all of her choices were predicted in advance and that she's basically been living as an extension of her ancestor's plan. When she receives the new book of prophecies, she chooses to burn it rather than continue being defined by it.

And I mean, especially Crowley and Aziraphale themselves who literally fought agaianst the destruction of the world because they loved living in it. They loved the music, the nature, the hot cocoa, the books, the little every day life domestic rituals. They loved humans for who they are.

They spent six thousand years building lives for themselves despite Heaven and Hell breathing down their necks. Aziraphale and Crowley built a life worth living. They made friends, collected expiriences, developed tastes and preferances, and found their own personal meanings outside of the roles that they were born with. The point seemed to be that even within an imperfect universe governed by powerful institutions, could still create lives worth living.

The entire reason they opposed Armageddon in Season 1 wasn't some grand ideological commitment to "maximizing free will." It was much more personal than that. They simply thought the world was worth saving.

Fast forward to season 2, and the main thematic purposes are still there. Even the flashbacks reinforce this. Time and time again, Crowley and Aziraphale bend the rules, help humans, cover for one another, and make decisions based on compassion rather than doctrine.

If anything, Season 2 argues on the idea that identity is something you create through your choices.

Nina and Maggie prove this too. Aziraphale and Crowley spend half the season trying to orchestrate romantic moments and push them together, but it completely fails. Their plans don't work.

What ultimately matters is what Nina and Maggie themselves want. Their feelings develop through their own conversations, experiences, and choices. No supernatural intervention overrides their agency.

Then of course, theres Beelzebub and Gabriel’s reveal. This pair is meant to directly parallel Aziraphale and Crowley. Beelzebub and Gabirel who are both respectively powerful figures (one from heaven and one from hell, representing both sides). They end up doing something Aziraphale and Crowley have probably only dreamt of doing: choosing each other and walking away from the system that was actively harming them.

This act of rebellion inspires Crowley specifically, understanding that Aziraphale and him too, have a chance. If Heaven’s archangel and Hell’s ruler can leave together, then Crowley and Aziraphale might be able to build something beyond Heaven and Hell too.

They have already experienced brief glimpses of that possibility before!!! in their time together, in their quiet outings across the centuries, in their meals at The Ritz, and in the many small moments they carved out for each other away from Heaven and Hell.

In those moments, they were able to exist outside the roles imposed on them, simply as themselves. Because of that, Beelzebub and Gabriel’s decision resonates so strongly with Crowley, it makes him realize that the life he and Aziraphale have only been able to experience in fleeting moments could truly become something permanent.

And Crowley proposes the idea to Aziraphale, leaving Heaven and Hell behind and choosing each other openly, without the constant pressure and expectations of either side. For Crowley, it is the chance to turn the quiet life they have built in fragments across centuries into something real and lasting.

For Aziraphale, however, the choice is far more complicated. His relationship with Heaven has always been conflicted. Even after witnessing Heaven’s cruelty and hypocrisy, he still holds onto the belief that Heaven can represent goodness and that it can become what it was meant to be. Because of that, he cannot fully accept Crowley’s offer. While Crowley sees walking away as a chance to finally choose each other freely, Aziraphale sees an opportunity to try to change Heaven from within.

Crowley desperatly kisses him as a last resort, hoping his feelings can come through, it's one of the most vulnerable actions he has done in the accumulation of the series.

Aziraphale’s responds with a “I forgive you” which makes the moment even more painful. The line highlights just how deeply divided they still are despite loving each other. Crowley’s kiss is an act of honesty and emotional urgency, a plea for them to choose each other and leave everything else behind. Aziraphale, however, responds from within the framework he has always known: Heaven, duty, forgiveness, and responsibility.

Rather than meeting Crowley in that moment the way Crowley hopes, Aziraphale answers through the language of the institution Crowley has been asking him to walk away from.

That kiss is the point where the relationship stops being implied and becomes undeniable. Because the buildup is so strong and so specific, the audience naturally expects the next part of the story to deeply explore the emotional consequences of that moment: Crowley’s vulnerability, Aziraphale’s conflict, and what choosing Heaven over Crowley truly means for both of them.

At the end, Aziraphale choosing Heaven is still an act of free will. That choice is painful, but it is his. He is not manipulated into it and he is not choosing Crowley any less because he cares less. He genuinely believes Heaven can still become what it was meant to be, and he chooses to act on that belief. That decision fits his character because Aziraphale has always balanced compassion with a deep faith in what Heaven should represent. The tragedy is that his choice comes from love and conviction, yet still places him and Crowley on opposite paths.

Season 2 ends on a deeply tragic note, and naturally the expectation becomes that season 3 will fully commit to the emotional consequences of that ending. Crowley has finally made himself vulnerable after centuries of restraint. Aziraphale leaves despite loving him because he believes there is still something worth saving. Both characters make active choices, and both choices hurt. Because of that, the ending feels like the emotional breaking point of everything the story has been building toward.

Yet season 3 does not fully give the audience that. Crowley and Aziraphale barely have a real conversation about what happened, and when they do, it feels brief and far shorter than the emotional weight season 2 left them with.

After such a devastating ending, the expectation is that the story will finally allow them to sit with everything that happened: Crowley’s hurt, Aziraphale’s conflicted feelings, the meaning behind Crowley’s confession, and what it truly cost Aziraphale to choose Heaven. Instead, those emotions can feel acknowledged only on the surface before the narrative moves forward.

Instead, a significant amount of focus is placed on the side story involving Jesus, which I do not necessarily mind, because his story feels closely tied to one of the central ideas of Good Omens from the very beginning: humanity. Across both seasons, the story repeatedly emphasizes what makes humanity meaningful. Jesus’ storyline connects naturally to those ideas, reinforcing the importance of empathy and the power of choosing humanity and kindness over blind obedience. In that sense, it feels thematically consistent with what the series has always been trying to say.

What makes it frustrating is that Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship had already become the most personal expression of those themes.

Their time on Earth changes them. Their love for humanity becomes inseparable from the love they build for one another.

Aziraphale and Crowley’s emotional conflict should have been the core of the season because it ties directly to what the show has always wanted us to understand. Their relationship is the clearest expression of these themes.

Crowley represents choosing freedom and love without needing Heaven or Hell to justify it. Aziraphale represents someone still wrestling with the belief that the institution he once trusted can become what it was always meant to be. Both of them are navigating the show’s biggest questions—what goodness actually means, whether love can exist outside systems of power, and what it means to choose for yourself instead of simply obeying.

Because of that, their separation at the end of season 2 feels like more than a romantic tragedy. It feels like the emotional climax of everything the story had been building toward. Their relationship had already become the heart of what Good Omens was trying to say.

But instead, Crowley and Aziraphale spend much of the season on a quest to find Jesus and the book of life, while the emotional conflict left behind by season 2 receives very little space. Their conversations about what happened feel brief, and there is very little time spent truly unpacking the pain of their separation. Most notably, even the kiss, the emotional climax of season 2 and Crowley’s most vulnerable moment in the entire story is barely addressed directly, if at all.

Instead, the story can feel like it moves around that emotional turning point rather than through it. Crowley and Aziraphale are physically together, but the deeper conversation the audience expects rarely happens. There is little room given to Crowley expressing what that rejection felt like, or Aziraphale grappling openly with why he made the choice he did.

And then, for some comical reason, Archangel Michael is the villian who wanted to destory the book of life or whatever, and they achive it. Every character turns into infinity war ass dust paritcals, including Jesus which is insane because literally even Jesus message of unity and compassion in the finale was pointless.

The reason it feels frustrating is because Jesus’ storyline had spent so much time emphasizing compassion, unity, and the power of choosing kindness in the face of cruelty. So when the ending resolves with everything being erased (including Jesus himself) it can feel like the season undercuts its own message. If the character representing compassion and unity ultimately disappears alongside everyone else, then the story risks making that thematic buildup feel hollow.

This also makes Crowley and Aziraphale’s unresolved conflict stand out even more. As the finale grows increasingly cosmic and destructive, the emotional center of the story feels pushed into the background. Because of that, ending the season with a universe-ending catastrophe while giving very little space to the emotional fallout of season 2 can make it feel as though the larger spectacle takes priority over the very heart of the story.

When Crowley saves the bookshop page from burning and they arrive there, everything around them is gone. The world has been erased, and all that remains is the bookshop and the two of them. On paper, it feels like the perfect setup for the emotional payoff the story had been building toward.

But even there, the emotional weight can feel strangely undercut. Instead of a longer, honest conversation about everything that happened between them, the moment leans more comedic, with Aziraphale begging to be forgiven and even bringing up the “you were right” dance. The callback itself is sweet and very in character, but placed in that moment it can feel lighter than what the scene had been emotionally building toward.

They are alone, vulnerable, and stripped of everything except each other, yet it can feel like the story pulls away before fully sitting with the weight of that moment.

And then the finale escalates again: Satan appears before them, followed by God herself. Suddenly the scale becomes cosmic once more, and for a moment it feels like the emotional center of the story might finally come back into focus. Crowley is finally given the chance to ask questions he has carried for centuries, but it is Aziraphale who delivers the emotional core of the scene with the heartbreaking question: “Why give me Crowley? Why make me complete and then take it away?”

That line lands because it finally says out loud what the relationship had been building toward for years: Crowley is not simply important to Aziraphale, he is part of how Aziraphale understands himself, his world, and the humanity he has grown to love. It is vulnerable and devastating in exactly the way viewers had been waiting for.

God laughs and answers that it's because their love always made her smile. This acknowledges the depth of what Crowley and Aziraphale mean to one another and confirms that their bond mattered on a cosmic level. But at the same time, it can feel bittersweet because the relationship is finally being named with complete honesty only when everything else has already collapsed.

Then God offers them privacy and allows them one request. And finally, after everything, the story gives Crowley and Aziraphale a quiet conversation with no Heaven, no Hell, and no one else between them.

She gives them privacy, and they talk. Aziraphale asks Crowley what he wants, Crowley scoffs and asks why he should have a say, Aziraphle responds with "because i only want one thing, and it's not about that anymore", which is crazy to me because it basically in my eyes implies he just wants Crowley.

That line is honestly one of the most emotionally revealing things Aziraphale says. For so much of the story, his choices are framed around duty, what the “right” thing is supposed to be. He has spent centuries tying his wants to responsibility. So hearing him say that he only wants one thing, and that it is no longer about the fate of the universe, feels incredibly personal.

And with everything the story has built between them, it feels almost impossible not to read Crowley at the center of that.

Because by that point Aziraphale has already tried choosing Heaven. He has tried duty. He has tried believing he could fix things from within. And all of it led to loss. The systems he kept prioritizing have fallen apart around him. The one thing that has remained constant through centuries of change and every impossible situation—is Crowley.

But then Aziraphale places the final decision in Crowley’s hands, and Crowley ultimately decides to reboot the universe with no angels, demons, or celestial beings at all, and that is where the ending feels especially frustrating.

The idea itself makes sense on paper. Crowley has always questioned authority and pushed back against systems built on obedience. A world free from Heaven and Hell could be read as the ultimate extension of everything he has believed in. A universe where everyone is free to exist without celestial interference.

But emotionally, it can feel unsatisfying because it turns such a deeply personal story into a massive reset.

What about Gabriel and Beazebulb who choose themselves over the system? They presented a more intimate and emotionally grounded answer. The series shows that freedom can come from stepping outside the system rather than erasing everything entirely. It shows that love itself can be an act of rebellion. That someone can say no to Heaven or Hell and still build something meaningful afterward.

For two whole seaons, this series spent so much time building attachment to this world: humanity, Earth, the bookshop, all the strange and lovable side characters, and especially the specific relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale. The emotional weight comes from how much history they built inside this universe. And that they had found things worth living in it despite the roles imposed upon them, they found each other.

So having Crowley resolve everything by rebooting reality can feel disconnected from what made the story powerful in the first place. Instead of confronting the systems they were trapped in and emotionally working through what happened between them inside the world the audience spent years caring about, the story wipes the board clean.

Crowley’s arc was never just about destroying systems. It was also about attachment—to Earth, to humanity, and especially to Aziraphale. He likes humans. He loves the weirdness of living among them. He cares about the world in all its imperfection. His rebellion always felt meaningful because he chose compassion and connection over blind obedience.

Also, call me crazy but it also makes it worse implying that while Aziraphale agrees with his choice it wasn't one he ultimately wanted considering what he implied earlier? Like you give Aziraphale the development to choose Crowley just to once again, take it away.

Aziraphale telling Crowley, “Because I only want one thing, and it’s not about that anymore,” feels like a huge emotional turning point. For the first time, he seems to separate himself from Heaven completely and speak from a place that feels deeply personal. And because of the way the scene is framed, it feels heavily implied that what he wants is Crowley.

That is what makes the ending sting. Because it feels like Aziraphale finally reaches the emotional place viewers had been waiting for, finally understanding Crowley, finally choosing him openly, finally letting go of the system, and then that development is immediately redirected.

He gets the realization. He gets the clarity. He finally seems ready to choose Crowley not out of obligation or fear or guilt, but simply because he wants him. And then the story takes that moment away almost as quickly as it arrives.

Aziraphale's arc was always meant to be built around this realization. So for it to come but at the cost of just, erasing his existence 3 minutes later leaves an empty feeling. It feels like Aziraphale finally gets the character development to choose Crowley for himself… only for the story to once again put that choice just out of reach.

And then when Crowley and Aziraphale say goodbye to each other...it's just a finger kiss??? Don't get me wrong Michael and David did amazing with their performances and you can feel the love in their eyes but, we deserved a better romantic climax.

So the universe gets rebooted, and we’re shown a new world where Crowley and Aziraphale exist as humans and eventually find each other again. They get their romance, they end up together, and on paper it is framed like a happy ending.

But that is also where the ending can feel especially hollow.

Because they are not really them.

These versions may physically resemble Crowley and Aziraphale, and they may even still be drawn to each other, but they do not carry the centuries of history that made their relationship so meaningful in the first place.

The reason Crowley and Aziraphale matter so much is not simply because they fell in love. It is because they spent centuries becoming who they are with each other. Their bond was built through time, through conflict, through humanity changing them, through repeatedly choosing compassion over obedience and choosing each other even when it was dangerous.

So replacing them with human versions who have none of those memories can feel less like payoff and more like losing them entirely.

Yes, those human versions may still fall in love. Yes, they may still be happy. But it is hard not to feel like the original Crowley and Aziraphale—the ones viewers spent years caring about—are gone. Because, in retrospect, they are.

And that can feel more heartbreaking than hopeful, because the story spends so long emphasizing free will and the importance of choices. Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship mattered because of the choices they made together over centuries. Their love felt earned because it belonged specifically to them.

So ending with alternate human versions getting the happy ending can feel bittersweet, technically they find each other, but not as the two people the audience actually watched grow and struggle and love each other for all that time.

the ending gives them the romance they were denied… while also taking away the very versions of them who earned it.

So again I ask, what is the emotional takeaway of the finale? What is the audience meant to feel beyond emptiness?

If the point is that love transcends timelines and they will always find each other—there is something beautiful in that. But it also clashes with what the show spent so long teaching us. Because Good Omens made their specific history feel important. Their love was not meaningful only because they were destined for each other. It was meaningful because of every choice they made along the way.

And if the message is that love still matters even if everything ends… that can work too. But the finale also spends so much time emphasizing loss and wiping away the world they spent centuries protecting that it can leave the audience emotionally stranded. The characters are technically together, yet the people viewers became attached to are gone. The systems they fought against disappear, but so does the life they built within that world.

if the versions of Crowley and Aziraphale we followed are erased, if their memories are erased, if the world they loved is erased, and the emotional conflict season 2 built never fully gets unpacked before that happens… then what exactly was all of that pain building toward?

What are we supposed to take from Aziraphale finally seeming ready to choose Crowley, only to lose that version of them? From Crowley finally confessing his feelings, only for the relationship to reset? From all the focus on humanity, free will, and compassion, only for the universe itself to be wiped clean?

And I understand that there were under a time crunch, but the problem wasn't only that it was rushed, but that the writing quite literally it took away the central heart of Good Omens and the strong messagining that came with it.

Also, we got no KISS?? no HUG?? and no STRAIGHTFORWARD CONFESSION??? These two deserved a better resolution.

If you read all the way MWAK I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THESE SILLY LITTLE GUYS and thats why im so passionate discussing this. Have a nice day <3