middaeg | (catch-all)(closed) the days don't stop coming

Entry tags:

(catch-all)(closed) the days don't stop coming

Who: Aziraphale & Others (closed prompts!)
When: various points of Aguril.
Where: specified in prompts.
What: catch-all log for the month.
Warnings: language, unfortunate TF stuff, UST, suspicious flowers, temporary paralysis, non-suspicious flowers, two cats & a turtle.

art by

decalian1!

( CROWLEY | CROWLEY (FULL MOON) | LEVI | SIEG )

Threaded | Flat

( for as unfortunate and horrid as the entire place was, aziraphale couldn't deny the fact that he was absolutely enamoured with the entire idea of lùnasa. an entire festival dedicated to marriage and everlasting love! what a beautiful and wonderful thing.

he was also rather fascinated by the fact that the bonding ceremony and a wedding ceremony were entirely different. he hardly knew what to think upon finding out that they were two separate beasts entirely and that one may have one without the other. it seemed a little unthinkable not to be bonded with the person you married. wouldn't that be the first person you would want to bond with? )

Crowley.

( said as they linger in front of one of the shops, the window display full of decorative hearts and a wide array of potions. there's a large sign, advertising the fact that they make the best lovemaking potions in all of aefenglom. a novel thought, but he didn't care about finding out what it meant.

no, he was still thinking about the concept of bonds and their place within this society. )

Have you given any thought to the necessity of a bond?

( it starts as a persistent itch underneath his skin when the sun dips past the horizon. a frustrating, nagging feeling, but one that he can ignore if he puts his mind to it and focuses his thoughts. he tries to keep himself occupied, alternating between reading some of the books he had gotten his hands on and menial tasks. little, simple things that he could easily pick up; organising the kitchen, sweeping the floor, refolding his clothes in the dresser, or anything else that seems like decent busywork.

something has to help.

none of it does.

he feels too restless and disjointed, barely able to keep to one singular thing. his mind feels too busy, full of half-formed thoughts and impulses, and he vaguely wonders if he had fallen ill. this is the sort of thing that happened to mortals, wasn't it? they got sick all the time! from virtually anything at all! he feels upsettingly trapped between doing everything and nothing at all.

gradually, the itch becomes a pain. it burns its way across his limbs, sharp and distracting. it's enough to take him by surprise. aziraphale isn't used to pain, isn't used to hurting at all. he was sn angel, for heaven's sake! there wasn't much that could tear at him, but this does.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

panic starts to rise in his throat, forming a heavy lump there. was this supposed to be happening? was this normal or was he falling apart? he thinks about calling for crowley, about requesting his help, but he thinks better of it. he doesn't feel like he should involve him. what could he even do? he retreats to the safety of his bedroom, hoping to hide himself away until whatever this is manages to pass.

surely, it would pass.

he lays on his bed in the darkness of his bedroom for what feels like it must be ages, years upon years, and the pain doesn't lessen. it only manages to steadily get worse, making him feel disconnected and foreign in his own skin. he feels barely tethered to the flesh, as if he might simply fall out of it at any given moment. part of him hopes that he would.

understanding clicks into place when he feels something sprout from the crown of his head.

he fails to stop the yell that it rips from him. )

( one of the more annoying and frustrating parts of being cursed to a mortal existence was the constant and regular need for income. aziraphale had spent the entirety of the previous month working in a bakery, which was very enjoyable and fulfilling work, but he hadn't been hired on to remain as a permanent employee. he did understand that, of course, they had their pick between skilled applicants and aziraphale simply didn't have the same sort of experience underneath his belt.

as a result, he had decided to try his hand at taking up some of the advertisements he had seen in the morning news paper. which, interestingly enough, had brought him out to the freezing cold in search of a rare deer with another young gentleman who seemed to be more suited to the task than himself. actually, he wondered if he needed be there at all.

but he was here, wasn't he?

he turns towards the gentleman to his right. )

You wouldn't happen to have any experience in tracking. . . animals, would you?

( one of the nastier beliefs of the past had been that children should enter the workforce early and earn their keep rather than spend their time in school where they truly belonged. they had worked long hours at brutal, demanding jobs and the idea of it had never sit right with aziraphale. factories and the like were not a place where any child should be.

humans were such fragile things. the pittance of money they were offered for the work was hardly enough to justify the damage done to their health. it was more than disheartening to see that aefenglom still practiced such a thing. it made sense, of course, considering that many things here were outdated (even by his standards), but disapponting nonsense.

his face pinches as he turns over to his company for the day. they've talked to both some of the lords as well as the children and it was feeling more and more horrid to side with the lords. )

How do you feel about this? This— ( he makes a loose hand gesture. ) —situation with the children?

Threaded | Flat

CROWLEY ◈ 2ND ◈ LÙNASA

CROWLEY ◈ 3RD ◈ FULL MOON