Caleb might ring closer to demons, if Aziraphale is the sort to go metaphysically sniffing around. It's a rather complicated, thing, however...

That sweetness was absolutely repugnant, and makes him raise a blocking hand as he looks away, acting like he's pushing the idea away. "'Amenable', 'crass', you're killin' me with the fancy talk on top of this, ugh." He grumbles, adjusting his coat before reaching into it and producing a rather sturdy-looking straight pin. "I don't make any promises about stars happening, so don't blame me if it gets even worse."