Took me far too long, but I finally read this! Dear lord, that was beautiful. The way you had Crowley describe Boticelli, the whole cracked paint metaphor, and the style in general ("like bread with cheese", heh) were just delightful. And I especially love the way you described Crowley's emotions throughout the whole thing - his bittersweet appreciation of humanity, pain for how quickly they would fade to dust, longing to not have to experience that, to be part of them, to be human... that was touching and beautiful
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