The real point behind Aziraphale and Crowley’s trials is that it didn’t stop there.
What happened was that some bright spark, Above or Below, managed to have the thought, “If he can make himself immune to the powers of the enemy by hanging around that enemy until he developed resistance, maybe someone else can? Naturally, I won’t succumb like he did because I know my place, but maybe I can just work up a tolearance. Just think what an advantage that would be when the real war finally begins!” So they tentatively reach out to a suitable angel or demon and suggest they should get together and talk, hinting that recent events have made them consider the advantages of changing sides. They suggest they get together in neutral space - a coffee shop or similar - and compare notes. And they do.
And it’s… interesting. Naturally the angel is on his very best behavior, because he feels it behooves him to set the best possible example for this demon, even if that means treating him with (somewhat guarded) respect. The demon is likewise on his best behavior, because he doesn’t want this angel sneering down his nose at him. And once the initial awkwardness is over, they wind up having a surprisingly nice time. Bot of them go home considering the meeting a success. All they have to do, they believe, is keep up the pretense.
And yes, both of them are thinking that, because the idea of this plan isn’t a hard one to come up with. Both of them are aiming for the prize of becoming immune to holy water/hellfire, and they aren’t the only ones. All over the world, angels and demons are meeting up in art galleries and tea houses and libraries and getting to know one another, and it’s… nice. Easier than they thought it would be. The angels are finding out that it’s rather pleasant to have this chance to let their hair down and be a little less than perfect once in a while. The demons are finding that it’s nice to spend time with someone who isn’t out to make their lives as miserable as possible every second of the day. After all, these are angels, and they do nice things for people without thinking about it - they hold open doors, draw out chairs, pick up the tab, pay genuine compliments. Demons are not used to this kind of treatment, and it’s amazing to have someone be nice to them without expecting anything in return. Gradually, the demons start trying to clean themselves up and present themselves better - after all, they’re having these meetings in public, and people are going to start to notice if they see these people who look like they were dug up four days after their funeral hanging around with these immaculate-looking angels all the time. Wouldn’t want to attract too much human attention. The angels, meanwhile, are embracing the idea of color and individual style. A scarf here, a pair of earrings there, a hat with a feather in it, a patterned necktie, a touch of lipstick or eyeshadow - little things that can be quickly hidden when someone they know shows up, but which feel so good when they’re on.
At some point, the top brass start realizing something funny is going on. They haven’t put their fingers on exactly what it is yet, but they know there’s something in the air and they’re pretty sure it has something to do with that thing that happened with Crowley and Aziraphale. Gabriel makes an emergency call to Beelzebub to discuss the matter before it can destabilize the entire cosmic order. She agrees to meet him. The poor man is so worked up that he actually agrees when she offers to buy him a drink. After all, a half a glass of wine never hurt anyone, right? They wind up having a long talk about how hard it is to keep their respective herds of cats in line, and spend a very cathartic time complaining about the people they have to work with. Nothing much ever gets settled, even though they meet for further discussions over and over and over.
At first, everyone thinks they’re the only ones. When they see someone they know in public, they duck out of sight. Then, gradually, someone lets something slip, and instead of repudiation, they get, “Oh, I thought I was the only one!” Instead of one on one meetings, they start getting together in groups of four, or eight, or twelve. Everyone takes their turn buying rounds, the angels sing heavenly karaoke, and the demons teach their new friends how to dance. Sometimes Aziraphale and Crowley show up, and are treated as honored guests - the founders of the order, in a sense.
Gabriel and Beelzebub still aren’t admitting to themselves what’s going on, but they have to admit that there’s a better atmosphere around the cosmos these days. Gabriel can’t remember the last time he heard angels singing just because they felt like it, and finds himself wondering why they ever stopped. Beelzebub isn’t quite willing to admit out loud that she’s enjoying how hell isn’t so hellish these days, but the big boss has been sulking in his pit ever since the end-of-the-world debacle and doesn’t seem to care what his underlings do these days, so why worry?
And then one day the order comes down fron On High: “Gather your weapons and put on your armor. Today is the day of decision.”
They gather on a barren world light-years from Earth and line up in their formations, and they look at each other. They look across the divide and see familiar faces, people they’ve danced with, laughed with, gotten drunk with, admired the beauties of creation with. They’ve wept on each other’s shoulders when humanity proves once again that they don’t need any demonic interference to create tragedies for themselves, they’ve wondered together in the dark of the night, “What is it all about, really, and why are we doing this?”
Then the command to attack comes, and they… don’t move. Not all of them, of course. There are a few in every bunch. Those who never joined the secret society turn to stare at those who have, and demand to know, “What are you doing just standing there? Those are our enemies! We have to destroy them!”
The battle is brief. The members of the secret society outnumber the dissenters a hundred to one, and in the end, the original plan worked. They made themselves immune to hellfire and holy water by making it so their friends would never want to use it on them. They all know who they can trust, while the dissenters have no idea who is an enemy and who is an ally until it’s too late. The victors are merciful, though, and merely subdue and restrain wherever possible. They know all too well that it is possible to turn an enemy into a friend.
And so they wait for the Allmighty to judge their actions. Aziraphale and Crowley stand at the forefront of the crowd, gripping each other’s hands and not as terrified as they might be. They’ve been through this sort of thing before, and they’re sure - almost sure - how this is going to play out.
And God looks at them all and says, “Ahh, my children, I see you’re finally starting to understand. Now our work can really begin…”
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
amandla
gamechangershow
ellievsbear
izzy806
