#they want so fucking badly for aziraphale to just forget about trying to please heaven

[bijouzen]

god. Unknown / Nth is SO fucking ineffable husbands

[ineffably-good]

Prompt: Cursed

Just a little Pirate cosplay with our two favorite ethereal beings. :)

This is for the Good Omens 30th Anniversary Celebration prompts! 

Read all the ones I’ve completed on AO3!

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Aziraphale, dressed in high black boots and tight breeches and a billowing white shirt that was much too clean for his current role as a brigand of the high seas, knelt down to open the first of the chests they’d dug up from the sea cave on the eastern Canadian coast. Inside was a heap of silver and gold coins, badly tarnished, velvet bags of jewelry that would need to be sorted through to see if the items they were looking for were amongst them, and, interestingly, a small black box, on the very top of the pile.

The box was about six inches square, lacquered to a high shine, with a large, heavy looking clasp and no further decoration. It was oddly enticing. Aziraphale forgot what he was doing and made a noise of fascination as he reached for it, picking it up to examine it in the firelight.

“Don’t touch that!” Crowley shouted from beside him.

Something in his tone frightened the angel into immediately dropping it to the ground.

Aziraphale brushed his breeches off in frustration and stood. He flipped up the stupid eye patch from his left eye so he could focus more clearly.

“What is your problem?” he said acerbically. 

Crowley paused to wipe the sweat off his face and lean on the shovel handle with his arms. Crowley had been doing most of the digging and the puffy white shirt and red bandana he wore were wet and filthy with sweat and exertion.

“Bad feeling,” the demon said. “I don’t think you should be touching that.” 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow but complied. “Pirate curse?” he asked.

“Something cursed it. Might not’ve been pirates who put it there,” Crowley replied. “Perhaps that’s why they never came back for their treasure, you know? Picked up some cursed loot somewhere, sank to the bottom of the sea.”

Aziraphale uncapped a wine cask that was slung at his side and took a long swig. “Why are we digging up these chests, anyway?” he asked for the fourth time. “We could just – you know – miracle them up.”

“Oh, come on, angel,” Crowley said with a grin. “Where’s the fun in that? We went to all the trouble of disguising ourselves as pirates and getting a ship and hiring a crew all to bring us out here to this god forsaken northern island to follow this ridiculous map and try to retrieve the Queen’s jewels, and you want to just cheat on the last step and miracle the booty up out of the ground?”

“Oh sure, now you become a stickler about verisimilitude,” the angel groused, but halfheartedly. He knew Crowley had always wanted to be a pirate. When they’d both gotten orders to retrieve a certain set of stolen jewels for different aims, it seemed like the ideal time to indulge the demon’s long-held fantasy. He hadn’t even made Crowley work that hard to convince him. The 17th century had been rather boring so far, his responsibilities were at a natural lull, and it seemed like a good time for a quick maritime adventure. That said, that didn't mean he was about to shovel.

“So, what’s in the little black box?” Aziraphale said, nudging it with a foot towards the demon.

Crowley poked at it with the shovel. “Not sure,” he said. “Feels demonic. Not entirely sure we should open it.”

“But you’re a demon,” Aziraphale said, frowning. “Surely it’s safe for you.”

“Possibly,” Crowley said, “but you’re here. And I don’t want to let anything in there harm you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Very thoughtful of you,” he said. “But we’re pirates. We can handle it.”

Crowley frowned and then pointed Aziraphale towards the mouth of the cave. “Stand over there. I’ll raise a shield.”

Aziraphale moved to where he was pointed and watched as Crowley unfurled his wings from the ether and raised a shimmering strip power that acted as somewhat of a barrier between them. He placed his own body between the angel and the cube, and then prodded at its clasp with his shovel until it sprung open.

A howl filled the cave, along with an amorphous, whirling cloud of vapor that appeared to be screaming. Crowley stepped back, shovel held out defensively and his attention split between the cloud in front of him and the angel behind him. The cloud whirled and began to condense into the size of a figure, and after a moment it settled down into the recognizable shape of a man.

A man who appeared to be dressed in drab, tan-colored robes, grimy and in poor repair, with gloved fingers riddled with holes and his white shock of hair standing up in spikes. Aziraphale blinked in surprise – he’d seen this person before, he was sure of it. It wasn’t until the face came into focus with its smear of boils and the grubby toad on his head that he knew for sure who it was. It was the demon who he’d run across once or twice in the last few centuries – what was his name? He knew it, it was right on the tip of his tongue –

“HASTUR!” Crowley shouted. “What in the name of – what were you doing locked up in a box?”

Hastur rolled his unkempt head around on his shoulders, producing a series of surprising loud crackles and pops as various muscles and bones clicked back into place. He took a deep breath and looked around him, obviously working to bring his eyes back into focus.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said. “Crowley? You’re my rescuer?”

Crowley laughed. “You got yourself captured? How does a Duke of Hell end up locked in a little black box and how did I not hear that you were missing?”

Hastur scowled. “What year is it?”

“1680 something,” Crowley said. “When were you taken?”

“About a decade ago,” Hastur said. “Idiot magician in the court of Spain accidentally did something right. Put me in that box, laid a curse on it so it couldn’t be opened by mortals. If you hadn’t come along…” He looked around and noted Aziraphale by the cave entrance. “Oh great. An angelic witness. What are you doing consorting with the enemy here? I’ll be sure to report about your bad habits of fraternizing with the enemy when we get back home.”

“Seems to me,” Crowley drawled, “that if we hadn’t come along, you’d still have been stuck in that box for a long time to come. Possibly centuries. The tides here are brutal – no human could have been in here long enough to dig you up without drowning. You owe us.”

Hastur hissed and clenched his fingers into and out of fists, clearly wanting to smite something. A few maggots dripped from one of his hands and burrowed into the sand. “Don’t think you’ll get any favors from me, you colossal moron.”

Crowley grinned. “Well that’s all right then,” he said, picking up the black container. “Let’s just take this box –” he stopped and sniffed it dramatically. “—which, by the way, is full of your psychic residue, absolutely confirms that you were locked inside for a decade. So, let’s just take this and pop back to Hell and update Beelzebub and the council about where you’ve been and how you were stupid enough to get locked in a box by a magician, shall we?”

Hastur paled.

“I’m sure they won’t be too angry,” Crowley continued, syrupy sweet. “Probably only send you to the pits for a few years at most. Been a while since you’ve been flayed, hasn’t it?”

“Fine!” Hastur shouted. “What do you want?”

“I want you to forget that you saw either of us here, and I want no reports made about the angel’s presence. We are both here simply pursuing the orders of our direct superiors, who each have an interest in the contents of these chests. There’s no fraternizing going on.”

“No indeed,” Aziraphale said primly from the entrance. “I don’t care for him at all. He’s quite an arse.”

Hastur smirked. “You’re right on that front.”

Crowley made a feint at Aziraphale with the shovel, just for effect, and snarled convincingly. “Please. Like I’d hang out with him. He’s a total drip.”

Aziraphale looked up towards the heavens in his best long-suffering manner.

“So?” Crowley said, flourishing the box. “Are we heading to the dark council right now, or do we have a deal?”

Hastur sighed. “Yes, fine, I won’t say a word about the suspicious circumstances I found you in. In return, you give me the box.”

“Ohhhhh no,” Crowley said, “I don’t think so.” He made a hand motion and the box disappeared, tucked neatly into a small pocket dimension where he kept one of his stashes of valuable things. “I’m keeping it for insurance. Because I don’t trust you, Hastur. Not for one second.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day, Crawly,” Hastur sneered. “Should never trust another demon. Stay away from me from here on out, all right?”

He stood up more fully and brushed off his clothing, assembled his tattered robes into something approaching order, and offered them both an insincere and disturbing wave, and melted into the ground.

The last thing they saw was his toad, eyeing them suspiciously, and then that too was gone.

Crowley whacked the ground where Hastur had disappeared with the belly of the shovel. “Good riddance,” he muttered. He dropped the wings and his power and turned to Aziraphale. “Safe now, you can come back in.”

“That was… surprising,” the angel said mildly. “Thanks for stopping me from setting him free myself. One of us would have ended up smiting the other, for sure.”

“Wouldn’t have really minded if it was you smiting him,” Crowley said with a grin. “As long as it didn’t start some long, drawn out war.”

“Well,” the angel said, “shall we get back to it? The crew is probably near onto mutiny by now; if we take much longer we will be flying home.”

Crowley picked up the shovel again and spaded it down into the sand. “On it, angel,” he said, flinging a shovel-full of sand into the corner. “Just a few more feet and we’ve got the second chest. We’ll take them back to the ship and sort it all out there.”

“On the way home, perhaps we can stop at that former Viking colony on the big island up north? I hear there are mermaids about!” Aziraphale said. “Oh, and perhaps we can magic up some proper tea and some little cakes for the trip?”

“You’re a horrible pirate, Aziraphale,” the demon said. “Just the worst.”

[sansthelonelypunster]

Naughty Angel

I do not own Good Omens. There will be smut and strong language.

Sub Gabriel x Demon Reader.

------------------------------------------

The sound of the bell let Aziraphale know there was guest. He felt an aura of lust and darkness and he knew who this was. "Yn, how are you?" He said.

Yn was a gender fluid demon who changed their form to match how they feel. Aziraphale looked to see that they was a very busty female. YN's panther like ears twitch as she walks to Aziraphale. He blushed at the outfit she was wearing. It was a black crop top, matching leather pants and knee high boots. "Azzy, how are you? Have you told Crowley how you felt?" She asked.

Aziraphale blushed then shook his head. "No I haven't. Are you sure he feels the same way?" He asked.

"Azzy, I could smell the lust a mile away." Yn said.

Yn's usual smirk vanished as the bell rings once again. "I must go." She said then snapped and a cook book popped in her hand. "Thank you for letting me get this cook book. My partner would love what is in here." She winked then walked passed Gabriel.

Gabriel saw Yn walking past him and let out a growl. "What are you doing here?" He hissed.

Yn winked them blow a kiss at him. "I wanted to see if Aziraphale had a cook book. I wanted to make something for my new pet. He been such a good boy." She said.

Gabriel felt jealousy course through his body. He knew Yn when they was an angel. Yn was an angel of love but when they fell, Yn became a demon of lust. "Well I have work to do. Now leave this place demon." He said.

Yn eye's twitched then snapped her finger. She heard Gabriel's gasp as she used her demonic magic to summon a vibrator in his ass. "Now Gabriel, you forget just who I am." She said as she pulled him to her. "I am the one who can make you beg. Leave that in you until tonight." She said.

Gabriel nodded his head he could feel his dick harden at the commanding tone Yn said. "Yes master." He whispered.

Yn nodded her head then snapped her finger again. The toy was turned on low to tease him throughout the day. "Meet me at my place at nine. Do not be late, you are in trouble enough as it is." She said.

Gabriel noted his head quickly then stood straight up. He fixed his jacket then walked to Aziraphale. He knew not to show he was being pleasured. They begin to talk as Aziraphale report to Gabriel. "Good, keep up with the good work." Gabriel said trying not to moan.

He bit his tongue to keep from moaning. He looked at the time, it was 12:00 pm. "I have to go Aziraphale." He said then walked off.

The next thing he knew, he was at in front of Yn door. He knocked three time. He moaned softly when he was Yn in their male form, shirtless. Yn was fit as a male, his muscles was well tone and he had a eight pack. "You naughty Angel, you come earlier than what I said." His voice was deep and husky.

Gabriel enter his home and gasp when he was naked. "No wonder why you came here. You know you can't cum without me saying so." Yn said petting Gabriel hair.

"Please, Master, let me cum." Gabriel whispered.

YN smirked then removed his pants and Gabriel licked his lips. He wanted Yn to fuck him hard. "This toy isn't enough fuck me please." Gabriel growl.

Yn turned up the toy and set on his throne. He watched as Gabriel moan and beg for him. Yn smirk then grabbed his dick and begin to jack-off. "Yn please fuck me. I am sorry that I was rude to you. Master please fuck me." Gabriel begged.

Yn, smirk then snapped his fingers once again. The toy was removed and Yn patted his lap. Gabriel got on Yn lap and tried to ride him. When Gabriel could feel the pleasure he knew he could reach. "Master please fuck me, I need you." Gabriel begged.

Yn smirk then left Gabriel up. Yn carried Gabriel to his room and pinned him to the bed. "You beg so beautifully." Yn huskily said.

Yn begin to pound into Gabriel hard and fast. Gabriel was moaning cumming almost instantly. Yn growled then cum in Gabriel, then bite him on the neck.

Yn was panting hard as he pulled out of Gabriel. He laid beside Gabriel as pulled him to him. "I am sorry for biting you again." Yn said.

"Like I said a thousand times it is fine. I like it when you claim me. No matter what gender you are Yn. I love you." He said.

Yn kissed Gabriel them rubbed his lower back. "How was your day?" Yn said.

"I was teased by a mean demon in front of humans and one of my Angels." He said.

"Awe that sounds wonderful." Yn said.

Gabriel gave Yn a mock glare. "You are lucky I love you Yn." He said.

Yn winked then nuzzled Gabriel's hair. "I am definitely lucky. I am glad I told Lord Beelzebub off." Yn said.

Yn sighed then teared up. He remembered when he was kicked out of heaven. His wings came out and wrapped around Gabriel. He felt his wings being petted. "I wish I could stop them but too many people wanted you to fall." Gabriel whispered.

Yn smiled softly then yawns. "Night my Butterfly." Yn whispered.

Gabriel snuggled into Yn. "Night my panther."

-----------------time-skip---------------

With Azzy and Crowley

Aziraphale was setting on Crowley's lap thinking. "Why did I feel love when Gabriel saw Yn?" He wondered.

"Oh Yn and Gabriel are mates." Crowley said. "Just like us Angel. Why haven't you told Yn and Gabriel about us?"

"I want them to figure it out." Aziraphale said.

Crowley phone buzzed he checked his phone.

Panther: I already know Crowley, make sure you turn hang up before you fuck him. 😈

Crowley looking traumatized. "They heard us." He said. "Yn heard us. I forgot to hang up one time."

Aziraphale went more pale then blushed badly. "I am not gonna look at them the same again.

-----------------------------------------

I hope you liked this story. I thought about doing this for a minute but never got the guts to do it. ;) Don't have too much fun with this though.

[not-a-space-alien]

Aziraphale’s Legion, Part 9: The Battle of Soho

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Series masterpost

On AO3

It was not a dark and stormy night.  Precisely the opposite, in fact.  It was a warm, cheerful morning.  The birds were chirping. The flowers were bouncing and beautiful.  The sunbeams cast their glow on the pavement, bathing Soho in friendly energy.

But there were evil forces about.  And they were no longer lurking.  They were moving.

Adramelech and Oryss had gone out to the store earlier in the day, and Botis was on his usual patrol when he spotted them running back at top speed, along with the third member of their trio, that angel who always accompanied them.

All three dove into the front door of the bookshop, panting.  Botis swooped down and joined them.  “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got company,” said Adramelech, scrambling to get further into the shop.

“How many were there?”

The warrior angel who had been with them grimaced.  “Hundreds.”

Michael, Victoria, Angelo, Aziraphale, Crowley, and Maltha were all at the table in the back room as a makeshift command center, with the rest of the angels and demons crowding around them to try and hear the conversation.  Beth and Adam had wisely taken Noah out of earshot.

“Let’s not panic,” said Aziraphale.  “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”

Michael tapped his foot. “What ranks are we talking?  Did you get a good sense for the composition of the force?”

“As far as I could tell, there was only one archdemon,” said Oryss.  “Agares.”

“Her,” spat a voice, and Abraxas pushed her way to the front to stand beside Aziraphale.  “Lord, I used to work under Agares.  She has been gradually winning the support of other high ranks in Hell.  When I left, she had a smattering of dukes convinced to support her bid for the throne.  I’ve heard she’s since pulled more over to her side.”

“There were dukes with her,” said Adramelech.  “I recognized some of them.”

“How many?” pressed Victoria.

Adramelech’s eyes fell to the warrior angels at the table, as though he were trying to calculate if they outnumbered the dukes.  He did not look optimistic.  “Erm… a lot,” he finally answered.

“Don’t suppose there’s any chance they’re on the way to join our ranks, is there?” said Crowley, sighing.

“I can kill Agares,” said Michael, slamming his hands on the table, clattering everything on it.  “Let me at her.”

“We need to strategize more than that, Michael,” said Angelo.  “While you’re engaging the archdemon, the rest of us will need to deal with the rest of the force.  It sounds quite sizeable.”

“I will occupy the attention of the higher ranks while Michael engages Agares,” said Maltha.  “I would be surprised if the dukes didn’t scatter in fear when they saw me.  I won’t let any harm come to this battalion.”

Battalion.  It was a rather strong word for the ragtag group that had accumulated in Aziraphale’s shop.  “Where shall we position Noah?” said Aziraphale.  “Surely he’s the target of this sudden visit. It’s come too close to his arrival for it to be coincidental.”

“We should draw some extra protective sigils and fortify the back room for him and Adam,” suggested Crowley.  

“Victoria,” said Aziraphale, “will you take care of that?”

The power nodded.

“Maltha, please make sure Beth goes with them.  If you get distracted it could be fatal for us.”

“Don’t worry, I fully intend to keep her away from the battle,” Maltha replied.

“How much time have we got until they get here?”

“They were still pretty far off when we sensed them,” said Oryss.  “But they were moving very fast.  I wouldn’t count on more than twenty minutes or so.”

“We should meet them head-on on the roof,” said Michael.

“That is exceedingly dangerous!” said Aziraphale.  “We should stay in the shop where it’s barricaded with anti-demon sigils. That’s only common sense.”

“Michael is right, unfortunately,” said Victoria.  “Not that I don’t admire your spellwork, Aziraphale, but with that many demons trying, they’ll find a way through it eventually.  That could put us in a worse position or leave us trying to fight them off inside the shop.  If we meet them as they arrive while everyone is prepared, it would probably be the best chance to present a strong, unified face and keep them away as far away from Noah as possible.”

“Oh, all right,” Aziraphale fussed, not sure why he had tried to overrule two warriors on the matter. “Abraxas, you said you used to work under Agares?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think she’ll do?  What strategy will she use?”

Abraxas thought for a moment.  “She will try to intimidate us.”

Aziraphale looked to the tight, anxious faces of those around him and thought that it was already working.  “All right.” He stood and clapped.  “All right!  Everyone get your weapons!  And armor, if you have it!  Convene on the roof as soon as you’re ready.”

A few minutes’ time found Aziraphale and Crowley in their bedroom, helping each other into their armor.  They could hear Maltha trying to convince Beth to stay in the protective circle they had drawn for Noah and Adam from all the way downstairs.  It did not turn out to be as easy as anticipated, because Beth wanted to go on the roof for some god-forsaken reason.  They could also hear Adam’s voice talking indistinctly trying to convince her, but Beth seemed annoyed that Maltha wanted to “stick her in the corner” during the fight.

“I want to watch!”

“Beth, that’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not, because you’ll protect me.”

“I have to focus on the battle!”

“Listen, if they manage to get past you, being in the shop isn’t going to keep me safe either, so it doesn’t make any difference whether I’m just behind the front lines or in here anyway.”

“Beth, yes it does!”

They went round and round in this manner until they managed to convince her by saying that her job was to watch after Noah, which was very important, perhaps even more important than fighting the demons on the front lines!

“Glad they got that settled,” said Crowley said, strapping Aziraphale’s leg bracers on.  “What is wrong with that woman?”

“Well, she is with an archdemon,” said Aziraphale, then tactfully did not elaborate further.  “Let’s get you into your armor next.”

Crowley did in fact have a suit of armor, but it was leather armor, made for speed and flexibility, nothing like Aziraphale’s heavy suit.  Aziraphale had seen him wearing it exactly once, in ancient Egypt during events he would rather forget.  Seeing him in it now made him want to tear it off again and have him right there on the bed, but obviously that wouldn’t do with the circumstances.

Aziraphale always felt rather clunky in his own armor.  He manifested his sword and sheathed it.

“Go on and get your weapon, my dear.”

Crowley waved his hand, and a staff appeared, symbols carved all along its length leading up to an icon with wings sprouting out from it.

“Your weapon,” Aziraphale repeated.

“This is my weapon,” said Crowley, colouring.  “I’m a healer, remember?”

“Ah,” said Aziraphale. “I…had forgotten.”

He tapped the staff on the ground.  “Aziraphale, we’re so screwed.”  This was worse than going against Satan with no weapon, because now there was a slim chance they could come out alive, and sometimes a spark of hope is crueler than none at all.

“We’re not,” said Aziraphale, stroking his cheek.  “I promise you.”

“Aziraphale, what if… What if I end up back down there? At their mercy again?”

Aziraphale grabbed his arm. “Don’t think about that.  It’s not going to happen.  I would die before I let that happen.”

“Don’t.”

“Hm?”

“If you’re dead there’d be no one to rescue me.”

Aziraphale engulfed him in an embrace.  “Don’t think about that.”

“Aziraphale, please, I-I…I can’t take the thought of being there again...If this goes sideways and it’s obvious it’s going to happen, please kill me instead.”

The arms tightened around him.  “I won’t. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Angel, please!  Stop being selfish!”

Aziraphale drew back, eyeing him up, realizing he was exactly right yet again.  That Aziraphale was selfish.  Would he be able to do that?  Kill him for the sake of mercy?

“Okay, I promise,” he said, and he did not know whether or not he was lying.  “But it won’t come to that.  I won’t leave your side.”

Crowley looked down, seemingly unconvinced.

“Hey, you’ve got an important job.  You’ve got to make sure the big boss doesn’t die of his injuries, hm?”

“I think I can do that,” said Crowley.  “I should be able to.  I’m a healer. I can.”

Angelo appeared in the doorway, clad in armor with a bow slung across his body.  “Aziraphale, can I talk to you for a minute?”

The way he was looking at Crowley indicated he wanted it to be alone.  Aziraphale gave Crowley a squeeze on his shoulder.  “Give us a minute, won’t you?”

Aziraphale stood with Angelo in the hallway. Angelo maneuvered him into the furthest corner, apparently paranoid of being overhead.

“What is it, Angelo?”

“Listen, I don’t know exactly how to say this,” said Angelo.  “But I just thought you should know that if Michael falls here, Heaven has no chance of winning the war.”

“What?” said Aziraphale, stunned.  “What do you mean?”

“Michael was specially crafted.  There’s no angel that can take his place in the ineffable plan for the war. Everything was set up perfectly so that if everything was according to plan, Heaven would have no chance of losing, but we’ve been off-script ever since Adam’s rebellion when he was eleven.”

“But…” said Aziraphale, struggling to process what Angelo was saying.  “Surely He wouldn’t allow Hell to win? God?”

“Mysterious ways,” said Angelo helplessly.

“Fuck,” said Aziraphale.

“I just thought you should know,” said Angelo testily, “that your actions have consequences, Aziraphale.  I know I won’t be able to get Michael to leave because he wants this so badly, but there’s a lot more riding on this than just who gets to keep Noah.”

Aziraphale wrung is hands. “All right, Angelo.  You’re good at this sort of thing.  Be honest with me. What do you think our chances are?”

Angelo rubbed his temples. “I don’t know, Aziraphale. I honestly don’t know.  I think it’s actually unlikely that Michael would be killed here, but he’s not really the one I’m worried about.”

Aziraphale grimaced.

“I know you’re attached to the Earth,” said Angelo.  “And I…I think I’m starting to see why you might be attached to these demons as well. But I’m saying this as a friend:  You need to consider the possibility that you might lose them.  It’s a very real likelihood.”

“But with Michael here—”

“Frankly, Michael is going to hold his own in battle, but there’s only so much he can do. He’s meant for offense, not defense.  He and his warriors can’t keep everyone out of the shop by themselves.  That means someone is going to get in and take Noah unless someone else holds them off, and I’m not convinced Maltha can do that on her own. Do you understand what I’m saying? You need to evaluate your priorities here.  Are you willing to throw your life away if we can’t win here?  Just for the sake of this planet?”

Aziraphale felt his anger rising up. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he burst out.  “You think I hadn’t thought of that already? You think I’d be here right now if I wasn’t already willing to die?”

Angelo fixed him with a very hard look.  “I do hope you realize you are making a vow you might be asked to stand by in a few minutes, Aziraphale.”

“If you brought me aside to try and convince me to give up before the battle’s even started, you can forget it, Angelo.”

Angelo sighed.  “All right, Aziraphale.  I’m sorry.  In that case, we should focus.  To be honest, I think we do have a shot at winning.”

“All right,” said Aziraphale.  “What’s our best option?”

“Things are a bit different fighting up here on Earth.  Hell is these demons’ home turf, so they’ll be more cautious up here.  Agares has probably promised them an easy fight not knowing Michael is here.  And I suspect most of them are only with her because they think she’s going to win and want to be on the side of whoever takes the throne to save their own skin.  Nobody here is going to be too eager to throw themselves in front of the Sword of Heaven in her absence.  If we can kill Agares, I think the rest will lose their will to fight and give up.”

“Cutting off the head of the snake, so to speak,” said Aziraphale, who then felt guilty for using that analogy.

“Right,” said Angelo. “But don’t get too excited, because it’s not as easy as it sounds.  Michael could beat Agares no sweat in a one-on-one, but she’s going to have a massive amount of support with her. All of Michael’s warriors need to be supporting him in the fight so that he can take her full attention.  Which means they won’t be able to help you and your demons in the fight.”

“But…” said Aziraphale. “Angelo, these demons are field agents, not warriors.  Maltha is…well, in a class of her own, but I don’t know how much she can do by herself.”

“Hence why I was trying to emphasize,” said Angelo, with no small amount of irritation, “that you going into this battle is basically sending them into a meat grinder. They’ve attached themselves to you, so if you’re willing to die, that means you also have to be willing to watch them die for you.  That includes Crowley.  Do you finally get what I’m saying?”

He did.  He had sort of been in denial, because he had a tendency to assume things would just work out for the better, but it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.  If these demons were serious about their vows, and it appeared that they were, that meant that they would die before him.  Because they wanted to protect him.

No, he suddenly realized. Not him.  He thought of Maltha’s words.  A rallying cry.  They had only pledged themselves to him as a proxy for the Earth. What was he to do?  Give up the antichrist and start the war to keep them safe? Order them away?

They were here because they wanted to be.  Because they would rather die than see the Earth be destroyed.  They would stand by him just as Crowley had against Satan.

They had their own little side here, and maybe it was going to be completely obliterated in a few minutes, but damn him if they weren’t going to put up a fight first.  Somebody had to.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you, Angelo. I understand. I don’t take this lightly.”

Angelo put his helmet on and began to walk away.  “Make sure you keep your demons out from in front of Michael, because in the heat of battle I’m not sure if he’ll be able to tell the difference.”

“All right.  Thank you.  Let’s get ready and get up on the roof.”

“See you up there.”

Crowley was leaning on his staff when he came back into the bedroom.  “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale. “Let’s do this.  Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.  Aziraphale strode forwards and kissed him deeply.  Crowley returned it.

Aziraphale broke off and took his hand.  “All right. Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They peeked into the back room for one last check.  Adam was sitting with his legs crossed in the center of a series of circles painted on the floor, and Beth was next to him with Noah on her lap.  All three waved at them. They waved back before leaving.

They made their way up to the roof. It seemed they were the last ones to arrive.  The warrior angels were surrounding Michael on one side, talking in loud, boisterous voices.  The demons were on the other, dressed in armor and cloaks and things decorated with bones and skulls and daggers.  It seemed to fit them all poorly.  They gathered around Aziraphale as he came near.

“I just wanted to thank you,” said Aziraphale, noting that not a single one of them had run, “for your tremendous loyalty.  I never would have thought I could ask so much from all of you.”

“Hail Aziraphale!” yelled a demon, and they all cheered.  Aziraphale could not help but think they wouldn’t be cheering in a few minutes.

Maltha seemed to share his thoughts by the look on her face.  She was perched near the edge of the roof, looking positively terrible* in her armor, but like Crowley she only had a staff for a weapon.  Aziraphale wondered what it would look like when she actually fought.  This was the archdemon who had given Satan a run for his money, after all.

*in the old sense of inspiring terror

Crowley seemed to be thinking the same thing.  “Hold on, angel, I’ll be right back.”

Angelo and a pair of warrior angels engaged Maltha in a discussion as he approached them, and Crowley waited patiently for them to finish before coming up to her.  Angelo left, but the warrior angels continued to hover nearby.  Maltha excused herself and came over to Crowley.

“What is it?”

“Maltha,” said Crowley. “Do you use your staff as a weapon?”

“Yes.”

Crowley tapped his own staff on the ground.  “Could you…I don’t know…Could you show me how to do that?  I don’t know how to use mine for anything but healing.  It’d be nice to be able to defend myself for a change.”

Maltha looked back at the warrior angels, then at him hesitantly.

“Are they bothering you?”

“No, they have volunteered to support me instead of Michael.”

“What?”

“They thought I should have backup too, apparently.  The way I see it, we all need to work together if we’re going to win this fight. I really need to get back to them so we can strategize.”

“Could you just show me real quick?”

“Crowley, we might only have a few minutes before they arrive.  I don’t think you can master a new combat style before the fight.  You should focus on your role as a healer for now.”

Crowley deflated.  “Oh.  I guess you’re right.  I just thought…well, you’re the only one who could show me how, and….”

“Maltha, we need to discuss our positions,” said one of the warrior angels behind her.

Maltha looked from the warriors back to Crowley’s disappointed face, then sighed and put a hand on his staff.  “Here, you’re holding it wrong.”

She shifted his grip so that he was holding it like a baseball bat.  “Okay, you know how when you heal, you form an image in your mind of the injury being whole, and then use your aura to shape reality to make it match?”

“Yeah.”

“You do the same thing, except you are picturing causing an injury instead.”  She leaned over and guided his arms into a swing.  “Just imagine—sever the spinal cord, crush the vertebrae, then give it a good whack.  That’s the power of your domain of life—you don’t have to use it as intended.”

“I see,” said Crowley.

“Maltha, we don’t have any time to lose,” prompted the angel again.

“Just one moment,” said Maltha.  “The only difference is your opponent won’t be sitting still to let you do it like a patient would, so you’ll need to impart the full force of your willpower concentrated in a single blow.”  She looked him up and down.  “No offense, but I’m not sure how effective it would be from someone of your aura strength.”

“All right,” said Crowley. “Thank you.  I won’t let you down.”

He finally let her move back to the warriors.  Crowley went back to his own angel, clutching his staff with a newfound appreciation.

“What was that about?” Aziraphale asked him.

“I was—er—trying to learn Maltha’s combat style.”

“Is that what it was? Well, do you feel like a warrior now?”

He fidgeted, looking over the horizon where the demonic hoards were fated to appear.  “Not really.”

Aziraphale took his hand. “Well, we’ll just have to make sure you don’t need to try it out, then.  You just stay behind me.”

The two of them watched Michael, who seemed in a much better mood as he laughed and joked with the warriors helping him get ready.  When the archangel snapped up and got a much more serious look on his face, Aziraphale knew something was about to happen.

“They’re coming!” said Michael.

As he spoke, Aziraphale could feel the demonic presence drawing nearer.  He clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.  “All right, everyone, let’s get into place.”

Botis jogged up to his side. “Sir, please let me—”

“Whatever you want, Botis, just get into position.”

Botis drew his sword and stood in front of Aziraphale.  Aziraphale tapped him and gestured for him to not block his view, and he moved over, sheepishly.

Six of Michael’s angels and thirteen of the demons were archers, and they came towards the front. Michael ripped his wings out and launched into the air, already shaking with excitement.  The rest of the group reluctantly let their wings loose as well.

The evil presence was drawing incredibly close now.  “Get ready!” said Aziraphale, drawing his own sword.  “But don’t attack until they make the first move.”

It started with a single imp, appearing on the spire of a clock tower in the distance and hopping from rooftop to rooftop like a great frog until it was on the building across the street from the shop, sneering at them.  More followed, streaming through the air, landing like a flock of bats, gradually increasing in size and ferocity.  They spread along the roof and spilled over onto the adjacent buildings and the street below, jostling and jeering and already yelling threats.

Crowley was startled to see Duke Hastur among them, perching at the very front, sneering at him specifically.  They were too far away from each other to hear anything over the background noise, but it looked like Hastur might have liked to have shouted something at him.

A boom sounded, rattling the windowpanes, and Agares appeared from over the building across the street.

Agares was in her biggest, most monstrous form.  Her crocodile-like snout flowed into a curving, bulky neck, with three pairs of enormous wings stretched wide to block out the sky.  Her claws scraped the stone as she hauled herself up, and her mouth fell open, revealing rows and rows of conical teeth.  Three pairs of predatory eyes raked over the group gathered opposite her.

Aziraphale felt his stomach sinking as he assessed the enemy force.  Even with Michael and his warriors, this was going to be a bloodbath, and not in favour of Aziraphale’s side.

He looked over his shoulder and spotted Oryss.  Good, sweet Oryss, whom he had promised would get back to her own angel.

Then he looked at Crowley. There was so much fear in his eyes. He hated it.  He hated anyone who would make him look like that.

But as much as he hated Agares and wanted her to die just like Satan, the best chance of everyone getting out alive was to resolve this without a fight.  He couldn’t let Crowley’s fears come to pass, he wouldn’t, as long as it was within his power to do so.  Maybe there was still a chance.

“Well,” said the voice from Agares’s maw.

There was absolute quiet, silence stretched to the breaking point with tension.

“Am I seeing this correctly?” boomed the archdemon’s enormous voice, tail flicking.  “I am to face a mixed company of demons and angels?  I admit I have never seen this before.  I’m surprised you didn’t destroy yourselves with infighting before I got here.”

Aziraphale did not want to admit he was also surprised by that.

“But I suppose common enemies can bring together even a group like this,” she continued, crawling forwards, the scales of her armored belly scraping the cement. “Although I did not expect quite so many demons to have actually taken this angel’s side.  First, I would like to extend an offer of amnesty to anyone who would like to change sides.  Come forward now.”

A clanking sounded as a demon pushed their way to the front of Aziraphale’s side.

“Please no,” said Crowley.

It was Abraxas, and she planted herself on the lip of the roof and pointed her sword at Agares. “Agares, my old lord.  Go away.”

Agares’s eyes slid closed and her body vibrated with laughter.  “Abraxas, I had wondered where you had gone.  You think you can threaten me?  That’s adorable.”

“Noah has made a decision on where he wants to be, and that is not with you.  You can’t have him.”

“Know your place,” Agares snarled.  “You’re nothing more than an imp.  The audacity that you would address me like this.”

“Welcome to Earth!” Abraxas shouted.  “Now, get out!”

She flicked her sword at her.  The demons on either side of Agares snickered.

“Abraxas,” Agares said. “You’re the one who liked those small, fluffy animals, weren’t you?  The last one was quite delicious.  Have you found a new one yet?  Why don’t you bring it up here for me?”

The snickering became laughter.

“I have Noah’s caretaker here with me.  He would do better if returned to her, and we can continue on with the war as planned. Now, do step aside, Abraxas. Maybe I’ll have time to discipline you properly after this.”

Abraxas was shaking with anger.  She slammed her sword back into its sheath, whirled around, and stomped through the crowd of demons, past Aziraphale and Crowley, down to the fire escape to the shop.

“Abraxassss, where the hell are you going?” Crowley hissed.

“This bitch,” Abraxas muttered as her head disappeared out of sight.

It hardly seemed likely that she was deserting with that tone and that gait, but Aziraphale could not imagine where she was going.

“Now, I will ask again,” said Agares.  “The reason why I have garnered so much support in my bid for the throne is because I am the only one with a real way to win the war.  I have discovered a way for demons to get into Heaven unharmed. Once the battle on Earth is over, we can storm Heaven directly.  Not even Satan could say he had a plan for doing that.”

Heavy, disbelieving silence fell.

“What?” said Crowley from beside him.  “No way. She’s lying.”

“You’re lying,” Michael shouted across the distance.  “The time for talk has passed.”

Please don’t attack yet, Aziraphale thought desperately at Michael, who looked ready to kill everything in a hundred-meter radius.

“I’m not lying,” Agares purred.  “If you join me now, you will have more of a chance than ever to take back Heaven once and for all.”

No one came forwards. Agares gave a hiss, expression changing from smug to frustrated.  “Very well, then, you’ll die where you stand.  Where is the principality Aziraphale?”

“I am he,” said Aziraphale, not moving, sword raised.

A wave of laughter erupted through the lesser demons.  Agares turned her head to look at him better.  “You are barely a morsel for me.  This is the one who bested Satan in combat?”

That was an accident, Aziraphale almost said, but said instead, “Yes, that was me.”

“You try to claim Satan’s throne for yourself?”

He didn’t, but he wasn’t sure if answering in the negative or lying would be better.  He had never faced down anyone like this.  He had no idea what he was doing.

Michael’s wingbeats were increasing in speed, raring to dash across the street and begin, but no one made a move to attack.  Aziraphale silently begged him to hold off until it was unmistakable the battle was unavoidable.

When it became obvious that Aziraphale was not going to answer, Agares continued, “I have everything I need to take Satan’s place.  All I need is the antichrist to start Armageddon, and the rest of Hell will rally to my side to destroy Heaven.  Give him to me, and perhaps I shall let you live.”

“Just turn around and leave, Agares,” said Maltha.  “No one has to die here.”

Agares’s head swung towards Maltha.  “Is that the archdemon of healing I heard?  My, my, I guess what I had heard about you going missing is true.  But I had not expected you to turn up here, among such strange company.  Is this your way of trying to claim the throne?”

“I’m on the defensive, Agares.  That’s why I’m giving you the chance to turn away unharmed.  Leave now.”

Agares’s throat vibrated with a chuckle.  “My force is much larger than yours.”

“Your force does not include me.”

The opposing demons murmured uncomfortably.  Agares shot a glare full of daggers at them, and they fell silent.

Her head snaked back around to Maltha.  Even she could not suppress the twinge of fear that overcame her face, but she quickly replaced it with irritation.  “Even in Heaven, you were always among the most arrogant of the archangels, Maltha. But I’m sure not even you could overtake this many enemies.  I had not expected that we would have to fight both you and an archangel, but it appears as though you two are the only ones who pose a serious threat to me. You would do wise to simply give me the antichrist.”

“You bloody moron!” shouted Crowley.  “You really want to go against the Sword of Heaven?  Are you out of your mind?”

Agares’s eyes widened. “And I can hear Hell’s biggest traitor is here as well.  I haven’t forgotten about you, serpent.  There are many who are eager to see you dead, but I have something special planned for you that I think they’ll like even more.”

Agares’s demons tittered with laughter yet again.  Crowley had gone pale, clearly regretting drawing attention to himself.

“Now, I will ask one more time,” said Agares.  “Give me the antichrist.”

“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said Aziraphale.  “And if that’s what you came here for, I’d think it best if you left now.”

Someone’s feet could be heard tapping rapidly up the fire escape.

Agares’s jaw widened in a facsimile of a grin.  “So polite, principality.”

“Move,” Abraxas’s voice called through the crowd, and Aziraphale’s demons parted like a tidal wave with fresh murmurs of alarm.  “Move.”

“Let’s see if you’re still that polite when you’re writhing in agony in Hell,” hissed Agares.

“Mrrrrrow!” said a very loud cat noise.

What happened next only worked for two reasons:

One, because Abraxas resisted the urge to shout “For Aziraphale!” and, as a result, Agares did not notice her and realize what was happening until it was far too late to take evasive action and move her enormous body out of the way.

And two, because it was so ludicrous that nobody on either side of the assembly would have thought it would happen in a million years.

Abraxas appeared on the lip of the roof, planting herself at the very front of Aziraphale’s side, in front of the archers where no sane being would want to be during a battle.  She was clad in a pair of yellow rubber gloves and the frilly apron Oryss had been using in the kitchen, and she had a water balloon in her right hand.

“Is that—?” Aziraphale gasped.

“Where did she get that?” Crowley said.

And with one swift motion, Abraxas lobbed the balloon like a baseball pitcher.  It soared across the street, arcing straight for Agares.

Everyone watched it go, all six of Agares’s fearsome eyes tracing it without comprehension a split second before it reached her.

It burst against the archdemon’s chest, soaking her, and her eyes went wide as her reptilian skin sizzled. A terrible scream of pain erupted from her mouth, wings flailing and claws gouging the cement.  The demons near her darted to get out of the way of her death throes and the droplets of holy water flinging off of her.  Her bellowing was so loud it shook the windows, and her enormous tail slammed into the building below her and decimated the façade as she writhed.

She collapsed down onto the roof, rolling, wings flailing.  Her screaming began to diminish in volume, limbs curling.  By the time she fell still her body was scarcely more than a gooey puddle on the ground.

Abraxas lifted two yellow-gloved hands, each one making a rude gesture.  “How’d you like that?”

“You killed the archdemon!” shouted the demon closest to Agares’s remains.

Abraxas adjusted her gestures so that they were aimed at the demon who had spoken, and then shouted at the very top of her lungs, “You don’t touch the antichrist, you don’t touch my master or his right-hand demon, and you don’t touch my cat, you got it?”

“Who do you think you are?” shouted a duke.  “Know your place, you ruddy imp!  You’ll be lucky to be alive after—”

Michael suddenly broke free from the group, closing the distance between him and Agares’s demons in milliseconds, his sword poised to strike.

Demons all have several things in common, one of which is a very well-developed instinct for self-preservation.  And at that moment, it kicked in for each of the hundreds of demons there, who were now faced with the possibility of being pitted against the archangel Michael without the buffer of an archdemon to occupy his attention.

The opposing battalion dissolved into chaos, with everyone scrambling to get out of the way as fast as they could.  Wings unfurled, demons scattering into the air or bounding away across the rooftops like a herd of startled deer. By the time Michael’s sword sunk through the head of the first demon he could get his hands on, the entire group had streamed away in every direction, not stopping until they all disappeared into the distance.

“Yeah, that’s right, run away!” said Abraxas, stripping off her gloves, and who surely must have realized it was not her they were afraid of.

Whatever she was about to say next was drowned out by the massive cheer that erupted from behind her, and Aziraphale’s demons surged forwards around her, clapping and babbling excitedly.  She looked at them all, bewildered, apparently still in combat mode.

Crowley leapt into Aziraphale’s arms, kissing him.  Aziraphale twirled him around, their weapons clattering to the ground, both of them amazed to be together and in one piece.  They had to stop kissing when neither of them could stop smiling and laughing.  They both felt themselves hauled bodily off the ground as Maltha appeared behind them and squeezed them in her enormous arms.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and pulled him forward, pushing through the crowd of demons around Abraxas.  They fell silent and let him through.

“Where on Earth did you get that holy water?” said Aziraphale.

“Well, when there are demons who want you dead, i-it pays to have some around,” said Abraxas. “I-i…”  She knelt and bowed her head.  “I disobeyed you again, master, please forgive me.  I’ll take whatever punishment you want to give me.”

Aziraphale pulled her up by the arm and crushed her in a hug, feeling his eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you,” he said.  “Thank you.  You did just fine.  God, did you do just fine.”

Mittens gave a trill and rubbed against Aziraphale’s leg, apparently feeling left out.  Aziraphale did not even yell at her when she clawed at his leg.

“Come back here, you cowards!”

Crowley looked up just in time to see Angelo approaching Michael, who was still flapping his wings at an agitated pace.  Angelo said something too quietly to hear.

“I’ll not put it away!” said Michael, trying to gesture with his sword, but it slipped out of his grasp and slung towards the rooftop beneath him, where it stuck fast.

“Goodness, is he all right?” said Aziraphale.

Crowley felt lingering anxiety returning to his stomach.  Michael refused to be calmed and looked half-tempted to turn and start mowing down his own warriors in place of the demons who had just escaped him.

Miraculously, none of the humans around seemed to notice what had happened.  It was, they discovered, literally miraculous, because one of the demons had taken it upon themselves to make sure passersby conveniently forgot the amazing sight they had seen on their way.

Well, almost no one noticed. A police officer came by an hour later, feeling like vaguely there was something here he should check out, but not being sure what.  They had to let him walk through the shop, hastily hiding the presence of the horde of demonic forces there.

Still, that did not solve the problem of there now being damage to the building across the street. Aziraphale took a group of demons to go fix it properly before the miracle wore off and anybody got upset by it. He was pleased to see a few angels join that mission as well, including Rosia, although he suspected that was because Rava was also there.*

*his suspicions were confirmed when Rosia and Rava snuck off together

As they worked to clean up the mess, they saw Michael circling restlessly in the sky, searching for any sign of the demons that had run off.  But they didn’t reappear.  Privately, Aziraphale didn’t think they ever would, but Michael seemed to hope so.

Aziraphale and Crowley approached Abraxas as she was helping clear the rubble off the street.

“Abraxas, may we talk to you for a moment?” Aziraphale said.

Abraxas leaned her shoved against the wall and stood at attention.  “Of course, master.”

“You used to work for Agares, so I thought you might know.  She claimed that she knew a way for demons to get into Heaven.  Crowley’s been gravely injured when he’s been to Heaven, and I never would have thought it was possible for a demon to go past the gates.  Please tell me, was Agares lying to try and intimidate us?”

Abraxas hesitated, fingering the hem of her shirt.

“You can tell me the truth. I won’t get angry at you.”

“No, it wasn’t a lie,” she said.  “It’s real. She knows how to get into Heaven.”

“By somebody,” breathed Crowley.

“She knew having a real plan for actually destroying Heaven could win her the throne, so she had all her subordinates look for a way to storm Heaven directly.  Somebody found one in an very old grimoire.”

“Angel,” said Crowley.  “I never thought Hell might actually win.”

“It seems an alarmingly real possibility,” said Aziraphale.

“Do you know what it is?” said Crowley.  “The way into Heaven?”

She nodded.

“What!” said Crowley. “Have you been there?”

“Of course not!”

“This is very dangerous knowledge,” said Aziraphale.

“…potentially useful, too,” said Crowley.

They locked eyes.

“We can’t,” said Aziraphale. “Not as long as the war might happen. With Agares dead, any plans to use it will probably have dissolved.  We need to let the knowledge die with her.”  He put a hand on her shoulder.  “Abraxas, I want you to do me one more favor.  Keep this to yourself, unless it needs to be used under very dire circumstances, all right?”

“Yes, lord.  I will.  I won’t tell another soul.”

Aziraphale did not want to imagine circumstances more dire than the current situation.  Hopefully that time would never come, and they could settle back into relative peace.