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have you ever heard of bad ideas
Who: eren jaeger (+ mikleo in the closed prompt), you in the open prompts!
When: may 7th - may 14th more or less i’m flexible
Where: mostly the coven’s magical creature stables, coven baths, wherever else if you’d like to plan something different! just hit me up 🤙
What: eren jaeger is a mess
Warnings: mild body horror (itching, raw skin, self harm, shedding?? w/e you call it), some nudity, eren jaeger
Ａ． ＣＡＲＥＴＡＫＩＮＧ
[ if you’ve heard about some newcomer dingus going into the wilde and coming back mostly unscathed— then you’ve also heard, through the coven’s gossip, that nessie and mhairi have already given them stern punishment! forty lashes!! starvation!! banishment!! torture by—
you’ve probably heard it all and more. the truth is, eren is under stable-arrest for a week after being reckless, working harder than the daily keepers and wearing a closed off, unfriendly frown through most of his errands. either thinking about troubles or punishing himself through tasks.
tiny (many) braids hoist the longer hairs that would usually stick at the back of his neck when he’d start to sweat, despite the moisture and cloudy days of the month— the beginning of his hand, leading to his palm and thumb is disfigured and healing the old fashioned way, victim to a bite (from his own mouth), but laboring through any stings with sharp inhales. catch him working, or resting, or. doing something weird.
he can mostly be found around the horses, picking their hooves, carrying blocks of hay over his shoulders for feeding time, mucking their stables and brushing them with certain skill. he had to learn all of that to ride them back home— he’s tried his hand at the pristine unicorn out back, alas . . .
he has wonderful intentions, but his actions and intent to get there are far from pure. she rejects his attempts at petting often for grazing, but doesn’t turn her back to him completely. she watches him plenty, in fact, every so often coming over to smell his back as he mucks her space— and so does he (watch her), respecting her and making sure the water shines like her coat does.
the cockatrice rooster doesn’t seem to like him. puffing its neck out and stalking eren from behind, the cock asks for a duel with his foot as he scatters feed for them in the mornings. accidentally stepping on a resting hen’s tail doesn’t help his case. a scandalous squawk causes him to jump, the cock to attack— and this to happen. it’s hard to say which one’s screaming the loudest.
or wildcard a mythical creature there are so many good ones. ]
Ｂ．Ｙ’ＡＬＬ ＤＯＮ’Ｔ ＫＮＯＷ ＡＢＯＵＴ ＭＹ ＫＮＩＦＥ ＳＴＩＣＫ
[ knives, blades, needles and tools are no novelty to eren! when interest piques as a simple idea, it’s easy to ignore. at most, he’ll pick up whatever it is, give it a once over, before setting it back where it belongs while cleaning out the sheds and organizing utilities.
as his week passes, the idea becomes a desire. the oddity in collecting what has suddenly interested him gradually slips away, and soon enough—
by the end of the day, when the evening colors the sky with purple and murky charcoal, eren can be found going through the tool shed near the peryton for the sharp objects present, and ah.
just looking and testing the edge with his fingers, sharpening any dull things with the stable’s file. nothing more. noticing someone’s extra presence, he’ll look over his shoulder and speak up. ]
. . . I used to use blades a lot. Two at once.
[ it makes sense in his head at the moment, for staring at the edge of a hoof pick and garden sickle and holding back the small urge to stick it into his pocket. it’s the only thing that makes enough sense. ]
Ｃ．ＢＡＴＨＳ (cw: mild body horror)
[ once the days are close to over, eren heads out to wash his clothes and himself back at the coven’s baths, but almost always in a rush, caring not for the company he’d meet or share baths with. near panic flares his nostrils and makes his breathing heard from afar— because his body burns.
it itches day in, day out, he can’t sleep can’t eat can’t do anything with how much its come to drive his mind into a spiral. have you ever had full body psoriasis? once his clothes are discarded carelessly, wading into the waters until they lap at his hips, he scratches wildly at his skin, nails digging relentlessly into flesh until they leave behind streams of even brighter red than what they already were from grating at them all day. his teeth hurt, his mouth aches (another problem) and his skin crawls raw, hell he’s itching, he’s been itching horridly ever since he’s gotten back from his field trip to the wilde, and as a man who has a lot less self preservation than one should have—
it feels like there’s something under his joints, the corners of his eyes, his ears, his neck, the tops of his hands and feet up to his shins beyond the sore dryness and flaking; where the burn and skittering underneath is at its worse.
so he scratches, and cusses, and scratches until skin breaks, until it bleeds in the form of dots of crimson— until he’s picking at it, caring less for the stings it causes, what feels almost like relief rather than more pain to worry about.
slapping salves on him from the offered treatment some bonded have given him helps, and to stop mutilating himself more than he’s already prone to doing, he lathers up even before soaps to rub the excess dirt off him, exhaling a sigh when he could finally breathe. at least. for as long as the temporarily relief that the ointments bring would give him.
fearing that he’s caught by the very disease that overtook the filly pair past the slums . . . he’ll have to talk to mhairi again. perhaps one may want to stop him in the meantime, he’s starting to pick enough at spots that it looks like he’s 👌 this much away from tearing off layers. ]
When: may 7th - may 14th more or less i’m flexible
Where: mostly the coven’s magical creature stables, coven baths, wherever else if you’d like to plan something different! just hit me up 🤙
What: eren jaeger is a mess
Warnings: mild body horror (itching, raw skin, self harm, shedding?? w/e you call it), some nudity, eren jaeger
Ａ． ＣＡＲＥＴＡＫＩＮＧ
[ if you’ve heard about some newcomer dingus going into the wilde and coming back mostly unscathed— then you’ve also heard, through the coven’s gossip, that nessie and mhairi have already given them stern punishment! forty lashes!! starvation!! banishment!! torture by—
you’ve probably heard it all and more. the truth is, eren is under stable-arrest for a week after being reckless, working harder than the daily keepers and wearing a closed off, unfriendly frown through most of his errands. either thinking about troubles or punishing himself through tasks.
tiny (many) braids hoist the longer hairs that would usually stick at the back of his neck when he’d start to sweat, despite the moisture and cloudy days of the month— the beginning of his hand, leading to his palm and thumb is disfigured and healing the old fashioned way, victim to a bite (from his own mouth), but laboring through any stings with sharp inhales. catch him working, or resting, or. doing something weird.
he can mostly be found around the horses, picking their hooves, carrying blocks of hay over his shoulders for feeding time, mucking their stables and brushing them with certain skill. he had to learn all of that to ride them back home— he’s tried his hand at the pristine unicorn out back, alas . . .
he has wonderful intentions, but his actions and intent to get there are far from pure. she rejects his attempts at petting often for grazing, but doesn’t turn her back to him completely. she watches him plenty, in fact, every so often coming over to smell his back as he mucks her space— and so does he (watch her), respecting her and making sure the water shines like her coat does.
the cockatrice rooster doesn’t seem to like him. puffing its neck out and stalking eren from behind, the cock asks for a duel with his foot as he scatters feed for them in the mornings. accidentally stepping on a resting hen’s tail doesn’t help his case. a scandalous squawk causes him to jump, the cock to attack— and this to happen. it’s hard to say which one’s screaming the loudest.
or wildcard a mythical creature there are so many good ones. ]
Ｂ．Ｙ’ＡＬＬ ＤＯＮ’Ｔ ＫＮＯＷ ＡＢＯＵＴ ＭＹ ＫＮＩＦＥ ＳＴＩＣＫ
[ knives, blades, needles and tools are no novelty to eren! when interest piques as a simple idea, it’s easy to ignore. at most, he’ll pick up whatever it is, give it a once over, before setting it back where it belongs while cleaning out the sheds and organizing utilities.
as his week passes, the idea becomes a desire. the oddity in collecting what has suddenly interested him gradually slips away, and soon enough—
by the end of the day, when the evening colors the sky with purple and murky charcoal, eren can be found going through the tool shed near the peryton for the sharp objects present, and ah.
just looking and testing the edge with his fingers, sharpening any dull things with the stable’s file. nothing more. noticing someone’s extra presence, he’ll look over his shoulder and speak up. ]
. . . I used to use blades a lot. Two at once.
[ it makes sense in his head at the moment, for staring at the edge of a hoof pick and garden sickle and holding back the small urge to stick it into his pocket. it’s the only thing that makes enough sense. ]
Ｃ．ＢＡＴＨＳ (cw: mild body horror)
[ once the days are close to over, eren heads out to wash his clothes and himself back at the coven’s baths, but almost always in a rush, caring not for the company he’d meet or share baths with. near panic flares his nostrils and makes his breathing heard from afar— because his body burns.
it itches day in, day out, he can’t sleep can’t eat can’t do anything with how much its come to drive his mind into a spiral. have you ever had full body psoriasis? once his clothes are discarded carelessly, wading into the waters until they lap at his hips, he scratches wildly at his skin, nails digging relentlessly into flesh until they leave behind streams of even brighter red than what they already were from grating at them all day. his teeth hurt, his mouth aches (another problem) and his skin crawls raw, hell he’s itching, he’s been itching horridly ever since he’s gotten back from his field trip to the wilde, and as a man who has a lot less self preservation than one should have—
it feels like there’s something under his joints, the corners of his eyes, his ears, his neck, the tops of his hands and feet up to his shins beyond the sore dryness and flaking; where the burn and skittering underneath is at its worse.
so he scratches, and cusses, and scratches until skin breaks, until it bleeds in the form of dots of crimson— until he’s picking at it, caring less for the stings it causes, what feels almost like relief rather than more pain to worry about.
slapping salves on him from the offered treatment some bonded have given him helps, and to stop mutilating himself more than he’s already prone to doing, he lathers up even before soaps to rub the excess dirt off him, exhaling a sigh when he could finally breathe. at least. for as long as the temporarily relief that the ointments bring would give him.
fearing that he’s caught by the very disease that overtook the filly pair past the slums . . . he’ll have to talk to mhairi again. perhaps one may want to stop him in the meantime, he’s starting to pick enough at spots that it looks like he’s 👌 this much away from tearing off layers. ]
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