june catch all | all prompts open!

[reenforces]

Who: Mikleo and you!
When: The month of June.
Where: Undermael College, the Coven grounds, and wherever your little heart desires.
What: Mikleo studies too hard, runs a taste test for this thing called ice cream from his world, and also fucks up his magic. (Event prompts might be added later after the log goes up.)
Warnings: None yet!

[I. off to college]

[This water seraph has been studious since the first day he got here, if you can count dousing a small fire and accidentally overflowing the rose baths 'practicing'. Because as much as he was a stickler for rules, there were some that he just didn't care for when weighed against things like exploration and knowledge. And yes, he'd been punished-- and felt like a little kid again when Sorey got in trouble because of him-- but that was fine, it didn't do anything to quell his own scholarly spirit.

Mikleo can be found in the college library typically after class or in the middle of the day, pursuing questions he's written in his notes and any required reading. When he isn't gobbling up spellbooks and arcane theory, he's reading history books and copying them into his own journal. Sometimes if the class was an especially strenuous one, one might come upon him sleeping quietly with his head in his arms atop a tome as the afternoon turns to evening.]

[II. tymael's apothecary / have some chill]

[Like a handful of other Witches and Monsters, Mikleo's been taking shifts at Tymael's Apothecary this month. He's angling for a permanent job, though he's not sure if his skills are up to snuff. They should be considering his previous experience with potion-making and being able to reverse-engineer the ingredients required for one, but his magic doesn't work quite the same and he can't use his power over water to control the temperature of what he's cooking.

Or can he?

It occurs to him one morning as he's mixing something in a pot immersed in ice to cool it. He... knows a spell for that? A small universal spell that he can use to clean things, to chill things or heat them up in a pinch, but in such small ways that it could be overlooked if they weren't as attentive to detail. But not Mikleo. He looks at his hands, and he looks at the pot, and he sees possibilities.

The next day, he sets up a chair and a food table outside the Coven. The sign is handpainted in elegant blue script: Taste Testers Needed. Sitting on the table are a bunch of paper bowls filled with ice cream of several different flavors: chocolate mint (complete with bits of mint leaf), vanilla (with flecks of black vanilla bean), a chunky-sweet strawberry, and chocolate so dark it's almost ebony.

It's all delicious, but the temperature and texture seems to vary from batch to batch, flavor to flavor. Some seems to taste like cheaper ice cream-- not enough heavy cream in that one. Some of it melted a little unevenly, so it tastes a little icy. But some of it is absolutely perfect, too.

The cook will jot any and all criticism in his journal. He won't call out to people, though; he's content to just people watch for now.]

[III. the school of hard knocks]

[But the nerd needs practice, and so he's out on the Coven grounds practicing when he's not studying or perfecting his craft. Mikleo prefers to go at night when few people can criticize him for going a little too hard, or panting, or just being physically weak. He's the Staff Chick, he doesn't need to do crossfit. Please.

With his staff in hand and a target dummy of some kind a few yards away, he practices throwing knives made of ice over and over as he tries to perfect his aim (still five inches off, and frustrating when he's an archer, he knows he can do better). And when he is thoroughly bored of that, he moves on to practicing the icy barrier he pulled off once during class. It had just been for a second, and the effort alone was exhausting at the time, but he has a stabler Bond now and he thinks he can do it.

One more time. He breathes in, waves his staff, and calls to the magic inside of him to form a shape. A defensive barrier made of water and ice, one that can hopefully deflect any physical blows were he to find himself at the wrong end of a Shade's hooves again. Unfortunately, what happens isn't a shield, exactly...

It's a full on car-sized bubble of water that bursts and floods the immediate area like a defunct swimming pool, knocking Mikleo right on his ass with a yelp and making a muddy mess of anyone else who might've been practicing nearby.]

[IV. wildcard option]
[Full moon shenanigans? Event shenanigans? Want sum plot???? As always, you can pplurk me at fonfabre or discord @ fonfabre#0318!]

Comments

[usurpers]

[ and that’s how mikleo actually died. eren does, in fact, barrel into him mid fall, his skull to the other’s stomach and thank lord his horns curve back more than they do forward, still small and stubby and probably not too dangerous. if. if, they aren’t the first things to hit. a human sized bullet too drenched to function more than he already had to try and keep himself aloft in this mess, eren takes the seraph down in a bowling ball-like wreckage all in one sound: splat.

all they’ll hear for miles is either splat, splash, or eren’s muffled screaming. which was not a good idea, it’s all over his mouth no he is not thirsty! drinking water is different!

the fall is cushioned, but far from dry. the shifter’s jitters sky rocket emotionally, he wants out and clamps onto the one source of energy that actually feels warmer than this mud pile does. he says something behind a face caked with slushy soil, and it’s too incoherent to heed. (but feeling wise, he wants out as much as a cat dunked in a tub.) ]

[reenforces]

[Mikleo oofs and all the breath goes out of him until he can only wheeze. Fuck fuck fuck, Eren's panicking and Mikleo is actually, viscerally worried that the water will hurt him. Mikleo's covered in mud but he can still see and use his mouth, and he clings to Eren with all his might. He feels like-- he's going to have bruises from that.

They need out of this and it's not going to happen with Eren screaming internally in his feelings and straight into Mikleo's head. He reaches for the first spell he can think of, a teleportation charm he's only just getting the hang of--]

O blessed zephyrs, bear us away!

[He sucks in a breath and then-- pop!-- both he and Eren wink out of existence. They reappear outside of the training area in the gardens instead, but they also happen to be about ten feet in the air. Mikleo barely has the sense to scream before they fall onto the grass again, and he's forced to bear Eren's weight a second time as they collapse in a heap.

Mikleo goes limp for a minute. He's not dead or anything, just blacked out from the effort of teleporting two people and then being sat on. Twice.

Oxygen, guys, it's important.]

[usurpers]

[ i can’t believe mikleo has earned death by titan butt

it’s better, at least, to get spirited away and land on dry(er) ground. everything happens too fast for him; one minute, they’re in the air, dropping down like stones. the next, eren lifts himself off cushioning that doesn’t feel like grass— oh, mikleo.

he must deal with eren’s sluggishness, i’m afraid, but he’ll eventually roll off with as much urgency as his retarding metabolism allows. not dead, still breathing, he could feel that! hurt? It was impossible for eren to be featherlight. his gut churns as he positions the witch, brows creasing with worry even if it takes forever to do. it’s late, not that many are about. he’d gladly ask for help, but his limbs just . . . don’t move more than this.

kneeled beside mikleo with a tight-knit frown and bubbling annoyance, it isn’t because he’s wet— it’s because he can’t do much when he’s wet, or cold, and this just got . . . increasingly worse over the last, what was it, two weeks? he’s waiting for heat to spark him back to life, but until then, his hand is moving, moving . . .

his body dips onto his side sluggishly, and belly against mikleo, he lays there in wait, coiling around the other’s curves and messy clothes for better heat. which may not be the best, he’s a little chilly— but less that what he’s feeling for sure. he’s getting sleepy. ]

[reenforces]

[Mikleo stirs slowly at first. He feels dizzy and lightheaded but there's this unavoidable edge of worry that keeps pressing against his consciousness. He gradually becomes aware of his limbs and the unfortunate amount of mud on them, and the warmer body curled around him-- that's Eren.]

Damn, that could've gone better.

[He cracks his eyes open and turns over with a wince. Oh yeah, he's gonna feel that tomorrow. But for now, he needs to get them both cleaned up and take Eren home. It's clear there will not be more practice today.

He wipes a bit of mud off Eren's face so he can lay a palm on it.]

Just give me a minute.

[There's a cool and familiar tingle of magic as gentle light settles over them both. It takes a good thirty seconds but at the end of it, the mud is all gone and their clothes are fine again... save Mikleo's hat, which was carried off during the initial torrent.]

Are you okay? I'm not sure I can warm you up.

[Still, he can try, by running his palms firmly and briskly over Eren's shoulders and chest.]

[usurpers]

[ IT COULD’VE but it didn’t. it’s . . . totally fine though! he’s not as upset about that. he just feels. ngl, he feels absolutely high right now, if he knew what that felt like. everything is slow, from mikleo’s speaking to eren’s own reaction time. by the time he opens his mouth to want to say something beyond grunting (or squeaking, it sounds more like squeaking), the seraph casts a spell that sheds the coat of mud and humidity off their fabric. sticky no more.

except. except the heating problem. it helps with the main problem that keeps his stature rigged. the summer air is warm when the winds don’t hit the chilly spots of moisture, though, and with a single touch, his chest seems to expand with greater strength. come closer. he wants to tell you something. his mouth parts at molasses pacing, his throat croaks, like he’s about to take his dying breath. his fingers curl, uncurl.

come closer. closer, he has to whisper something. ]

Liar.

[ he’s

a smart ass

even when he can’t talk right ]

[reenforces]

[Mikleo is all briskness and concern, one could even say motherly, the kind of well-intentioned rudeness that has a parent attacking their child's face with a napkin after a messy meal, or shoving a coat over their head. He's fussy, right up to the point where he smooths Eren's hair down with his own palms. At least it's not like Sorey's, which is determined to stick up in every direction like a Final Fantasy character, but...

He's close enough that he sees that wish to lean in, so he does, only to hear the raspiest, most smartassed thing that's come out of Eren's mouth since they met.]

Excuse me?

[And suddenly everything is back to normal. Amethyst eyes narrow sharply, and he reaches for Eren's ear to tug on it harmlessly.]

Do you want me to leave you here? Because I absolutely will.

[usurpers]

[ he can’t fucking feel that— ohh there it is. the slow pressure of a tug that tempts, tempts a lot, a cracking smile from eren’s mouth of teeth. It’s too bad that it’s sloth time ]

Come— on, [ oh, there he goes. a lot more movement, enough that he’s not quite lifting himself up, but certainly rolling to face up, back to the earth, and teasing mikleo’s hair with and equally harmless yank between his fingers. ] Look what you’re doing.

[reenforces]

[Eren is really fixin' for a mixin'. There's a part of Mikleo that finds this undeniably cute, though. Does he like annoying Mikleo? Maybe a little. Everyone likes testing him lately...

The way his eyes crinkle when he looks down at Eren is awfully fond for someone threatening to leave a cold dragon alone at an ungodly hour.]

I'm trying. Come on, you big scaly baby.

[He laughs as he says it. Both arms wrap about Eren now, tight and protective, as he tries to give some warmth back. And maybe, for a moment, he enjoys this bit of simple affection by nuzzling into his neck and shoulder.]

See? I'm not good enough for this, I'm too cold. I need to drag you home.

[usurpers]

[ eren likes to bother people eventually, has he told you about the guy he’d always get into fistfights with just so people could pull them apart? he sees, you see, the way the seraph’s eyes grow smaller to make way for a smile that pulls his lips up.

home, huh.

hah, pushes past eren’s own half open mouth. he’s shamelessly indulgent, but it’s impossible not to. the fondness he feels only gives him strength, in both senses. to tease and to move. rising enough to to drape himself plenty into the embrace, eren sinks himself into arms for a moment, heaving out a pleasant sigh— his arms come up from under mikleo’s, easier to wrap around his torso due to their size, and his face . . . ah, the best treatment. a face full of hair, scent and taste. his nose presses close to the side of mikleo’s ear, just below it, and his fingers idly play with the fabric of clothing lining his back, and finding the curling ends of the hair on his neck.

there’s too much safeguard for eren to give in his own hug. It could overflow, the more and more his strength returns. his arms grown tighter, warmer.

he likes it when mikleo laughs, and wonders if he can get the chilly face pressed to his nape to warm up. ]

Then I’m the one that needs to warm you up. [ with a little more tease and a lot more soft, genuine wording, ] But you’re not too cold if I’m still moving.

[ affection— was nice. all things born from care were, and he thinks, for a moment about one eren kruger far away in his memories. ]

[reenforces]

[Something about Eren hugging him back like this makes his heart soar. He wonders if his Bonded can feel that-- if he knows the shape of the affection in his heart. For now, he's happy to indulge in the moment. Eren seems to be thawing however slowly, like a lizard just moved to a sunny rock.

He feels so safe wrapped up like this. Mikleo's so small in his arms that he could curl into Eren and practically disappear. At least, that's what he feels like doing. He breathes in deep and relaxes too, though he's also growing tired.]

Why do you think I fall asleep on you all the time? You're a furnace. [He smiles against Eren's neck.] I'm never quite sure. I've only been human for two months, you know. I just assume I'm too cold for anyone.

It comes with the territory.

[usurpers]

Not for me.

[ he’s got enough strength to get up, but— he isn’t doing so yet. he knows he feels. he knows what he feels without confusing it for mikleo’s, and he’s unafraid to say it as most people worry about in the modern era, though he feels he doesn’t need to say anything. to call it simple attraction would be shallow, because this care was not something he’d simply . . . get tired of giving, of doing, of feeling; love is the same in all forms, from his love for armin, mikasa, and historia, for his people, for freedom, to a love that he has for mikleo. he views it differently from the rest.

love is not something to be ashamed of, neither is it something to doubt. he feels what he feels, and that’s it. “too soon” would be like saying it was fabricated. things could break, but, if it breaks, it breaks. you’re the only one responsible for fractures in bonds. eren was simple with his feelings. there’re so many complications, that one more would just be too much for his head.

basically: eren jaeger, to all his dear ones. sex was a different addition, but one he hopes to keep as particular as his feelings were. he doesn’t hug, nor adore everyone he sees. to be fair, he’s the pickiest, strictest man alive when it comes to people, so, congrats.

his smile is warm and abated, and while he inhales deep, he slumps fully against mikleo again, cheek to cheek, and— okay, sorry, the tongue slips out. it’s a habit, but he’s not sorry for getting to taste his bakery sweetness and ozone like picking out real time snacks to pop into his mouth. ]

We should get going. You’re exhausted.

[ he KNOWS you’ve been out here practicing

but

he’s going to spook him with his weight meant for carrying, if not just a little bit. ]

[reenforces]

[Mikleo somehow doesn't argue that point. He looks at Eren for what feels like a long, long moment-- and it's only a moment, a blip across a seraph's lifetime, and yet he treasures each second like the last. He has to live like that when he loves humans so damn much. As a seraph, it's his duty to remember everything when someone is gone. The fondness is palpable, something that spans decades, an affection so strong that it could span generations.

Even Eren-- with his limited time that Mikleo doesn't know about-- could live forever in someone's memory.

Mikleo giggles softly as he feels that cheek to cheek contact and, yes, the little bit of tasting tongue. He's grown accustomed to it by now but that doesn't make it any less ticklish. He closes his eyes and rubs his cheek shamelessly against Eren's, not unlike a cat.]

But what if I want to-- ack!

[That would be the sound of Mikleo being grabbed. He did not approve of this.]

I didn't say you could carry me! [Consider him spooked.]

[usurpers]

[ not immediate, but after a few hanging seconds, eren rolls back onto his bottom with mikleo in tow. who knew, that he’d survive countless ages in someone’s memories? eren knows it’s possible through personal experience— but this was an all bright side to grass he didn’t think could stay green. they usually dry yellow, until they’re white, coarse and dead.

but nothing kills the idea that grass could always be green, if taken care of.

fondness is an exchange that seems too light of a word, but it’s still there in eren’s eyes when he pulls back to shed a rather dork of a smile on the seraph. yes, that was him. roughly ruffling any stray locks that have fallen over his face from the descent, but at the same time so inexplicably gentle. he lives on contact more than ever now, and by the end of a huff— his skin isn’t flushing, but his scales are. ]

Then let’s go before I have to. [ it doesn’t end there, not without a soft press between foreheads that eren initiates. ] I need to tell you something.

[ can you feel that he’s antsy to? yeas. ]

[reenforces]

[He's happy to be not-carried, but he almost forgets to say something in return. He's so caught off-guard by that grin, sunny and fond in a way he isn't expecting, that his words have momentarily left him. His puffed-out cheeks and mock-frustrated expression fade a begrudging kiss that he plants on Eren's forehead, then he meets it, this gesture of intimacy that they had before they knew anything else about each other.

He loves those sunset scales so much. Almost absentmindedly, he runs his fingertips over them, seeing if they change color any.]

Now you've got me all curious. [He pauses.] But if it's serious, then we should probably get out of the middle of the garden.

[Mikleo is the one who moves slow this time, but only because he's reluctant. He gathers his feet beneath him and decides he'll look for the rest of his runaway clothing tomorrow. He doesn't mind being a little barefoot. When he's arranged appropriately, he offers Eren a hand up.]

[usurpers]

[ there’re some specks of bright cherry where touched, when touched, or maybe a shimmer gold where weak moon or lamp post lights bounce off him. pink ears, far beyond the scales, and when given a kiss, his chest jounces something fierce. mikleo is . . . too cute. eren wouldn’t say that out loud and probably wouldn’t choose the word cute, but. the sentiment is palpable beneath eyes and a smile that just seems to melt from a peck of warmth where their heads meet.

and a spark of something else, as mikleo raises himself and eren’s hand trails after, sliding down the seraph’s leg from thigh to ankle, and tongue, not sticking out at him, but definitely flicking out for a taste of the air. god he has so many hormones this month. this summer. rest in pieces.

at least they have something common now: bare feet. eren’s been losing more and more clothing as the days pass, hasn’t he . . . clapping the other’s hand and springing himself up, eren pulls to bring momentum to his favor— he just doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk, fingers crawling their way between the spaces made for him to slink into. ]

I spent a few days asking around. [ he figures he could start with an introduction to it now. ] Have you heard of Dewaint Forest?

[reenforces]

[He can sort of feel that cute bouncing around the link but he ignores it, even as a similar sort of feeling comes from himself. Eren turning little bits of red like a mood ring is also, quite frankly, fucking adorable. He almost kisses him again, but elects to get moving. Though it's not without a soft squeak as he feels Eren pawing down his leg (gently, though), maybe he's not asking but he's thinking about it, and Mikleo flushes harder.]

Excuse you, [he says again. But he's still happy to twine their fingers together and... pretend he's above all this. (He's not.)]

That's the fairy place where we met, according to Yako. [He's right back to studying Eren, brows lifted inquisitively.] Did you find something?

[usurpers]

[ the very fact that acts like he’s above all this is cute in and of itself. none of the teasing playfulness really leaves eren’s edge as they walk, and as his thumb smooths over the top of the seraph’s cool hand— it’s clear as hell in emotion, especially when it’s still spiking like his tone still echoes in his ears even after being said. he seems to like that mikleo is portraying himself as a tsundere.

you’re plan is backfiring you fool!!! ]

A woman who was there 120 years ago. Her name is Sully Stitcher.