#post season 2 ending

[skyasimaru]

Enjoy some cursed podfic, everyone! (Please, seriously, read the tags on this one. It IS crack fiction, but some of the subject matter is a little.....)

:) anyway, enjoy a good laugh, in your in the humor for some wacky good fun. And all's well that ends well in this one.

"The Eric Factory" was written by JoseyxNeko on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/52358758) . Go give her some love for it, won't you? She's got a lot of other great (crack and non-crack) fics, too!

Very Respectfully,

SkyAsimaru

[me-beef]

@strangeravatar made a great point

i was gonna focus on the spike-hotboxing-celestia aspect but i got distracted somewhere along the way and i think i forgot what joke i was trying to make

but dont you think its interesting how many guards of the exact same color/body type she's managed to accrue?? i do

ooohh you want to go look at our stickers so bad

[sanzundertale]

babygirl i will invent stages of grief you have never seen before

[yhwcomeback]

The Master of Fire.

poster on redbubble

[itsscottiesstark]

Am I the only one that actually agrees with Neil about season 2 being "quiet, gentle and romantic"? OBVIOUSLY not the final 15, but the rest was terribly sweet and so so so romantic.

The dancing? "I thought we carved it out for ourselves" "so did I"??? "Our car"????? Are you kiiiiidding me????

And- hear me out. What's more romantic than this:

[teenagenutant]

a bit more weird, wild, and less structurally stable than the 2-turtle fusions, here's bosch (raph+mikey+donnie) and machiavelli (leo+mikey+donnie)!

pure impulsive destructive excitement and 'what if your annoying little sibling was also the world's most acrobatic awful cat'

[mizgnomer]

Parallels - Good Omens Seasons One & Two - Part Five

Link to [ Part One ] [ Part Two ] [ Part Three ] [ Part Four ]

[hiraeix]

still not over how the season ended 👍

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[manny-jacinto]

i’m actually grateful for apple tv+ who seems to be able to believe in their tv shows despite ‘low’ ratings.

based on wikipedia, they have 76 ongoing shows (drama + comedy):

- 27 of them were ended but 13 of them had at least 2 seasons which brings us to a 18% cancellation rate after their first season

- 18 of them (23%) were miniseries so their end is justified

- 21 of them are renewed but if if you add the 13 series that had at least 2 seasons, this brings us to a total of 35 shows that were renewed which is a 46% ratio renewal rate

apple tv+ renews half of their shows and i think we should be thankful for them in a time where netflix and amazon cancels 90% of their shows

[bean-winchester]

Wait I’m sorry can we talk about how the Loustat reunion in 2x08 is the FIRST TIME we as the audience meet Lestat unfiltered??? Not Louis’ narrative of Lestat, not Armand’s, not a hallucination, but the genuine article, for the first time??? And he’s so sad, so vulnerable, so… human? You can feel how different he is— Sam plays him like a new Lestat, like how he conceived of Dreamstat and Armand’s Lestat as different Lestats from s1 Lestat— and the first impression you get from this is that time and grief have changed Lestat. But what if the difference is more than that— what if these have always been elements of Lestat, flattened by Louis’ memory?

Watching that scene, the revelation of caring, grieving, tender Lestat rippled back through the show for me, subtler but more powerful than the San Francisco revelations or the revisions from the trial. Because it’s true, isn’t it, that it’s so much easier to make monsters of the people who hurt us, to remember them as powerful, intentional, and fundamentally uncaring? The truth is much harder to bear— that those who maim and abuse us feel as deeply as we do, that they love and grieve and doubt, that they cry and shake and cling to us, just as small before the hurricane as we are

[theelastword]

something new about aziraphale that i’m getting emotional over on this fine night (no one is shocked): i cannot stop thinking about the first scene of season 2. specifically i cannot stop thinking about the fact that even then, in a moment where both he and crowley even looked younger due to their innocence / lack of doubt or questioning just yet, aziraphale is already doing somersaults to worry for those around him. he doesn’t even KNOW this angel, and the idea that crowley could get in trouble for asking questions shouldn’t occur to him yet, but he’s still so burdened by anxieties and doubts for other peoples’ well-being and conditioned to protect others at his own expense (not to mention eerily close to seeing through Heaven for what it is). aziraphale is so fundamentally good, worrying about other people and caring about them before the very idea that bad things could happen to a fellow angel SHOULD have ever crossed his mind in the first place. and to me that disproves all notions that aziraphale is naive, because he’s been tragically aware since before the Beginning— and before crowley. which makes moments like the post-Job “what does that make me” scene even sadder because by all accounts, if aziraphale was familiar with what it’s like to doubt and worry before the Fall even happened, before he ever should have known what those things were, then he should have been one of the angels to fall, right? Wondering and doubting and worrying about things leads to a Fall, right? Only he didn’t. In a world in which there’s a line dividing doubtless, brainwashed, “happy” angels from doubtful, too-curious-for-their-own-good demons, aziraphale might just be the loneliest being in existence. he’s quite literally the sole person (that we know of) who stayed an angel but is forced to carry a burden that never should have been his, that NOBODY around him in Heaven has to carry. and he can’t ask about it because now he knows for sure where asking questions leads you, but he probably doesn’t understand why he has to carry that burden in the first place. the one he’s been carrying it since before Earth was even created.

[idliketobeatree]

ladies & gentlemen, you have been the most beautiful audience! remember to toss a coin if you can if anyone needs me, I’ll be at the bar

[actual-changeling]

An angel and a demon walk into a bar.

It sounds like the beginning of a joke, one that would have annoyed Crowley greatly before- before. Maybe it would have been mildly amusing, were it not for the fact that it is a pub, not a bar (a mere technicality that somehow still mattered), and it is the first time in seven months that he is looking Aziraphale right in the face.

He chose the place, walked right out of the bookshop and across the street the second Aziraphale looked at him with his stupid purple eyes and opened his mouth. Same table, same drinks. New silence.

A demon leads an angel into a pub so he does not kiss him again.

Less of a joke, more like the beginning of a nightmare he has had every single time he tried to sleep, woken by whispered words either confirming his worst fears or greatest desires; both incite fear, one way or another.

The low table between them is enough of a barrier to prevent a repeat of their last interaction, it has to be, although this time Aziraphale is looking at him with violet-coloured longing and an apology on his lips, no longer pleading, no longer angry. He is asking for forgiveness, and if that isn't a deeply ironic twist of fate.

Before either of them says a single word, Crowley finishes his drink and raises his hand to order another one, clinging to the familiar sting of alcohol in his throat to burn away the questions lingering on his tongue.

An angel followed a demon into a pub because he loves him.

Aziraphale wishes he could tell himself Crowley looks like he did seven months ago, that he hasn't changed, but he is done lying to himself, to either of them. Behind his shades, dark, darker if that is even possible, he can feel his golden gaze heavy on his face, familiar and the answer to an empty longing in his chest.

His drink goes untouched as Crowley downs one, then another, and it is after the third that he finally begins to talk.

"What do you want?"

Bitter, sharp, spit at his feet with an anger he expected and yet doesn't know how to react to. Underneath it is pain—more pain than any being should ever have to experience—and instead of trying to carry some of it for him, he only added to it.

"I want to apologise."

"Fine." Crowley shoves his empty glass away and gets up. "I don't forgive you."

Reflexively, Aziraphale reaches out and curls his fingers around his wrist when Crowley tries to walk past him, blinking up at him with eyes the colour of dying Myosotis.

Forget-me-nots.

They both freeze, the point of contact a crack in the walls they have spent centuries building and seven months rebuilding, and he knows he has made a mistake immediately.

Crowley stares at him, still as stone, until he suddenly rips his arm out of his grasp, almost cradling it against his chest. With dawning horror, Aziraphale realises he is shaking, tremors running through him like waves breaking apart on a rocky shore.

"Don't you dare touch me." Panic, not anger. Pure, unfiltered panic blooming beside a mountain of fear that could outlast an eternity.

"I-" He doesn't know what he wants to say, what he is trying to say, what he needs to say to make him stay. Oh, the irony of it all.

Crowley leaves the pub, and the Supreme Archangel stays behind.

Not a demon anymore, not technically, he is done with sides, and deeds, and choices; he never makes the right ones anyway. His wrist hurts with the ghost of a kiss, and he cannot get the glint of purple where summer sky blue should be out of his head. 

The Bentley is waiting for him, providing an escape from the noise, the people, him.

Apologies instead of I'm coming back.

A sickening aura of holiness tinged with the burn of ozone instead of books and dust and soft, silly angel.

Seven months of waiting, of pleading with God, of cursing Her, cursing him, cursing the entire fucking world for taking and taking and taking from him without pause, without even a fragment of mercy.

For this.

An angel returns to heaven. Crowley curses the stars and cries.

[autisticandroids]

CASTIEL: Stop. What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me - not love, not respect, just fear.

[youtube with closed captions]

a godstiel pity party. i'd like to thank an anon i got way back in february of 2021.

[shiuefha]

So, Anya and Guitar, huh...

They used the artwork as the reference for the new ending, no doubt.