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Summary
There's a smell of ozone, a crackle of divine power, and suddenly, there on the footpath is the newly made supreme archangel of Heaven. In celestial fucking robes, at that, his wings resplendent, and appearing, in a way that enrages Crowley like nothing else, slimmer, as if he’s all but lost the gut.
He brushes nervously at his pale curls, and his angelic halo winks out.
The air around them is hazy and thick, pink with magical resistance so that humans nearby aren't going to witness their spat. Because it is going to be one. A spat. A snit. A row.
He's not going to be hearing him out, not for one moment of Time.
'Please, Crowley,' are the first words out of his mouth. 'I need you to listen to me.'
Crowley has broken with Hell. Beelzebub and Gabriel have broken up. Crowley has had it with Beelzebub’s breakup era.
Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is consumed with his doubts about Heaven – and fears for those who remain below.
*Featuring a universe in peril, a surprise proposal, an unimpressed Vicar, confused hellhounds, curious angels, getting married without talking things out, a gift from God, kidnappings, escapes, and a good deal of being down bad.*
