#i lost my mind for weeks reading every letter oscar wilde has ever written to try and emulate his writing style for the flashbacks

[sectumsempress1]

'Oscar once told him that he could never successfully hide that which he refused to acknowledge, and Aziraphale had certainly spent enough of his reckless past not daring to speak the name of the fragile human emotion clawing away at his chest. But after 1941 he had become rapidly, dangerously aware— so then he spent the next eighty years building up walls and mazes that not even he could find his way out of anymore.'

Aziraphale and Crowley are so close to carving out that fragile, peaceful existence that they both so desperately crave, until 6000 years of repressed feelings come head-to-head with an eternity of faith and Crowley just doesn't think he can handle another rejection while Aziraphale just wishes that the love that dare not speak its name could be enough... but if it isn't, it isn't. It's not like not being enough is new to him anyway.

If only their mutual plans of tragically wallowing on opposite sides of the United Kingdom weren't interrupted by some very strange news from Tadfield, some uncomfortable truths from the 1890s and the looming threat of a brand new Apocalypse led by an all-too-familiar face.