#ttse

“Are you—you’re doing okay? With the play, with our storyline?” Scott asks, something achingly earnest in his voice. Pearl blinks. That… was not what she was expecting. Still, she supposes it makes sense. In real life, Scott is the best QPP Pearl could ask for, and she can’t imagine anyone she’s closer to, or anyone she’d rather give such a role in her life. In the play, though… well, in the play, Pearl and Scott hate each other, to put it bluntly.

Thanks for the tag @sillyliterature, really appreciate it!!

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This is a snippet from the 11th chapter of 'til the stars evaporate', my Shrios longfic! It takes place immediately after Shepard manages to get through to Saren, only for Sovereign to completely take his mind over and almost succeed in killing her. (Quick note: my Shep's name is Aria, I named her before I'd played ME2 but I'm too attached to her name to change it hahaha)

"Enough." Saren levels his gun directly at Aria's forehead and moves in closer, closer. "It is time for you to die, permanently this time."

The mocking grin drops off Aria’s face and she scowls, curling her lip upwards in a snarl as she grits out: "Fuck you."

She finishes typing in a code on her omni-tool with her good hand, then draws it back and lets the device push her biotic implants past their natural limits. Her vision takes on a crackling blue glow; in one swift motion, she punches the air in front of her with her full might and sends all the energy left within her shooting directly at Saren in an uncontrolled explosion of power. The blast sends him toppling off his hovering platform and takes out the two nearest geth. Aria stumbles forward with the momentum, catching herself on one knee as she wipes blood from her nose. Her head throbs like it's being split open from the inside. Her whole body starts to shiver as if from an icy chill only she can feel, but for a few blessed seconds, Saren stays put on the ground.

For his whole life, Scott has wanted to find his soulmate. Scott remembers learning about the ink that would appear on his body when he turned eighteen, forming a picture that would gain color when he met his soulmate. Scott had been so giddy at the thought, then—the idea that somewhere out there was a person the universe had deemed perfect for him. That didn’t change as he grew older—Scott has always thrilled at the idea of soulmates, especially his own. So why, now that he’s met his soulmate, does he feel so much dread? Or, Scott has always wanted a soulmate. He isn’t convinced that he deserves one.