"Oh, I think Arachne," Crowley says, with all the confidence of someone decided on their baseless argument already. Aziraphale's face rubs against him and he sighs in contentment, relaxing a little more into the contact. "You know, monstrous visage, tricking people, trapping them, hated for the spider association even though there's nothing strictly wrong with spiders, it's all there."

He lifts a hand absently, begins to slowly stroke fingers through Aziraphale's mane. The fur is soft, the rumble of Aziraphale's voice feels almost hypnotic this close. He can feel it starting down in his chest, vibrating through him and puffing against his skin.

That's fine. It's all completely fine.

"Anyway, not a little fairy thing that's for sure."

The main point. He'd be a much more dignified and frightening monster.