I loooooved this fic by @omgmussimm and cannot recommend it highly enough.
It broke my heart a little but I forgive it because it was so beautiful and beautifully written. The details perfectly evoke the setting and get you into Aziraphale’s head.
I loved that there’s enough specificity that when Aziraphale references something that happened earlier, you’re not just being told about it but remembering it with him because it was so well described.
My favorite fic I’ve read in months.
23k words, rated E, 18th century France!
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Nearly five decades after the Holy Water argument, Aziraphale is sent to a world-famous sanatorium in the Swiss Alps on an assignment that Heaven appears to care about rather more than usual—only to find out that Crowley, of all creatures, has already established himself there.
Clearly, this cannot be good for anyone's constitution.
Words: 38,774
Status: Complete
Rating: Teen And Up
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Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...
The wind stills ruffles our hair, still shakes the leaves of the trees. The world keeps on spinning. People still walk on the streets, still keep on their routines. We share old stories, old photographs, old memories. We offer each other a hug, even if it can only do as much as wave the cold away. Sometimes, that warmth is what we need to sooth the aching lump in our throats. Sometimes, it just makes it hurt more, but we need it all the same.
I was living my life like normal, until I saw this post. I wasn't prepared to have the ground shattering beneath my feet.
The Ordinary World, by Anti_kate
Rated E, ~24,8k words
My tags: intense, cathartic, beautiful
Summary:
He couldn’t quite remember what Aziraphale smelled like anymore, the particular combination of fresh bread and sea salt and cedarwood, the caramelized sugar of crème brûlée. But even though he couldn’t remember the scent precisely, he knew the bookshop didn’t smell right. It didn’t smell like Aziraphale. It was as if he’d never been there at all.
Aziraphale disappears the night of the bookshop fire, and Crowley is left alone and grieving. But death is not always the end.
Hm. This fic spoke to me in such a level. Cut me deep and dissected my feelings in such a way that I didn't expect -- so I'm sorry in advance. This will get a bit personal, and I don't know to which extent everyone can relate to this story, and to which extent is me projecting my own experiences.
So, this can be a particular experience of mine, but I don't see many stories dealing with grief. In the movies, TV shows, books, etc. that I've watched and read, it's an uncommon theme. I find that interesting because even if it is different for everybody (and if every time it hits differently), everyone experiences grief. In the same way that everyone dies, everyone also feels the pain of grief.
We see characters dying and characters suffering for it, but the grief per se is uncommon. And I think that's because it happens a lot in one's head, it's not a linear process, it's complex and painful, and it's never the same. It doesn't even end. We never really stop mourning. We go through our days, and the grief is with us. We work, and it sits by our side. We laugh, and it warps its arms around our shoulders. We cry, and it constrict our voices. We eat, and half of it goes to its belly. We walk, and its weight slows us down. We learn to live with it, we grow around it, but that hollowness is always there, never fulfilled again.
And this story taps into that so well (for me, at least). It describes so well the sense of loss, the sense of emptiness, the absence that lingers. How everything hurts, how it feels for the world to end, and nothing changing. For it to end and people still being the same, doing the same things. For it to end, and for you to confront the fact that it means nothing, really; you still, somehow, have to keep going, you, somehow, are still alive. The world ended, nothing changed, and you still have to breathe.
All that is left is your memories, and they aren't even the same anymore. You can't exactly remember them, but your body does. You get assaulted by them. You get haunted by the ghosts of the people you lost -- you can hear their voices on the back of your mind, you can feel them on their words, on the things they owned, on the things they did. You listen to a song and BAM! there is their ghost singing those lyrics, hoping to that rhythm, a memory that you didn't know you still had. Their ghosts haunt you. But they're gone. They don't exist anymore, only being alive in the past; only still in the memories, in memories that, more often than not, will die with you and cease to exist when all that's left of you is the memories on other people's heads.
We see Crowley go through that. We see him hurting like we (maybe *I*, lol) hurt. We see his suffering upon losing Aziraphale, and how he hurts himself trying to stop hurting, and unfortunately, the hurt is inescapable. He sacrifices a lot to get answers, to try to get close to Aziraphale again -- and what wouldn't I sacrifice only to be able to hug the people I lost ome more time...
But the good news is that he can get Aziraphale back. And he does. The plot is amazing. The descriptions of how he does that and the twists are amazing. This fic is so poetic, and the ending is so beautiful. Reading Crowley getting Aziraphale back was incredible, especially after seeing (experiencing, really) the hurt.
I love how the author wrote this story, their prose is beautiful. Haunting. I loved every bit, and I felt so seen, hugged by Crowley's hurt; he getting back something that I will never be able to was great. It comforted me a lot, even if it hurt (and it did hurt a lot lol I still have a lump on my throat and did cry yesterday because of it, but it was a good type of cry. One that makes you feel good after).
This fic made me feel a lot, and I'm so grateful for it (@antikate I'm sorry for tagging you I just want you to know that I loved your fic so much, and I for sure wasn't able to get that across by my comments there. Rhank you so much for this story) It's so beautiful and... aaa alright time to end this rec. I babbled a lot and said almost nothing, I feel like. Just go read it (not for everyone, I know, but yet...).
This fic is like drinking a too-sweet beverage to try to swallow a too-bitter med. Like making popcorn when you feel sad, because that's what they did when they felt sad.Like keep on living and laughing, because they would like you to.
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I've had a couple of messages over the last few days from folks saying things like, "Sorry, I can only afford to get your book through the library," and I need you to know I am gripping you by the shoulders, I am shaking you gently, and I am begging you stop apologizing for using library services.
After Amazon and Payhip, the quarterly checks I get from Overdrive/Libby are my biggest and most reliable source of income.
My readers have been nothing but feral in their quest to get Hunger Pangs into as many libraries as possible, and while library lending pays an exceptionally modest amount, if enough people do it (which many of you evidently are), those pennies add up.
I am guaranteed at least $20 a month in library lending royalties. That might not sound like much to some folks, but to me, that's my b12 supplements covered for the month. That's the thing I need to keep me alive paid for.
I will never resent anyone who uses libraries instead of buying books.
I'm a disabled author who lives month to month at the mercy of my medical expenses. Even though I have incredibly generous patrons and supporters, I know what it's like to not be able to afford things.
Use the library. Please.
Use it guilt-free. You're helping the library and the authors, probably more than you realize.
And if you're in the US and haven't signed up for a @queerliblib free library card yet, you should! it doesn't matter what state you're in, the Queer Liberation Library offers free access to their catalogue of queer media across the US.
And if you've got the means, maybe help them out with a little donation. They're only able to expand their collection via the support of their patrons, and the work they're doing is hugely important.
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