[Aubrey’s outfit shows a fair amount of skin; it’s never felt more incriminating than this.
[On her face: Eren, soft and loose, written across her right cheek—where his left hand, then-unmarked, brushed her tears away in the moonlight. And it’d be one thing, if that was the only name; so, naturally, it’s not.
[There are three others: Across one knee, Kel, small but insistent, like a bruise from a misaimed ball. He’s tripped her up more than once. His brother, Hero, stamps the back of her right hand; a clean prescription for a stray scratch. Embarrassing, both if them. But Aubrey would sooner show those off than the lace around her neck, singsong cursive across her throat: Mari. A childhood remnant.]
[Most disconcerting, however, is what’s become of Aubrey’s left side. It wraps around her arm like a bandage, ugly and jagged, more of a scrawl than anything legible—but the gaps in the pitch line up. Eren Jaeger, Eren Jaeger, Eren Jaeger, again and again, overlapping and chaotic and raw. It snakes up under her sleeve, coiling; and though her neckline is enough to hide the vow’s trail to her heart, the names take a different path, dragging across the collarbone and curving down like an artery.]
what’s in a name (@detriment, naturally)
[Aubrey’s outfit shows a fair amount of skin; it’s never felt more incriminating than this.
[On her face: Eren, soft and loose, written across her right cheek—where his left hand, then-unmarked, brushed her tears away in the moonlight. And it’d be one thing, if that was the only name; so, naturally, it’s not.
[There are three others: Across one knee, Kel, small but insistent, like a bruise from a misaimed ball. He’s tripped her up more than once. His brother, Hero, stamps the back of her right hand; a clean prescription for a stray scratch. Embarrassing, both if them. But Aubrey would sooner show those off than the lace around her neck, singsong cursive across her throat: Mari. A childhood remnant.]
[Most disconcerting, however, is what’s become of Aubrey’s left side. It wraps around her arm like a bandage, ugly and jagged, more of a scrawl than anything legible—but the gaps in the pitch line up. Eren Jaeger, Eren Jaeger, Eren Jaeger, again and again, overlapping and chaotic and raw. It snakes up under her sleeve, coiling; and though her neckline is enough to hide the vow’s trail to her heart, the names take a different path, dragging across the collarbone and curving down like an artery.]
[Aubrey really hopes these marks are temporary.]