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spookyvalentine · 2 years

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mass effect au: white collar

Kasumi Goto, the galaxy-renowned art thief, forger and professional conman. Special Agent Shepard, the c-sec agent spearheading the white collar task force who caught her. EDI, the rogue AI posing as Kasumi’s very human partner-in-crime

ART BY @naarisz ‼️💖‼️

canon, crime lord, (sports coach coming soon)

Fic under the cut!

“Hello, Suit,” EDI greets, and bustles past them to set the pile of supplies Kasumi asked for on the already-crowded kitchen table. She has to push a carafe of wine uncomfortably close to the edge of the table to make room for her favorite portable printing press. EDI sniffs—hints of oak, vanilla and plum, before deepening into notes of chocolate and cherry. A Clos de los Siete, perhaps? She’d mentioned to Kasumi just the day before she was in the mood (oh! what a good friend she has). “Kas, when did you set the Malbec to breathe?”

No response.

She turns to look at her friend—observes the flush across her cheeks, the slight perspiration at the temples, her pulse jumping through the thin skin of her throat. Kasumi’s biometric readings honestly hurt to look at. She bats away the offending program.

EDI then examines the agent, who has increasingly been responsible for such reactions.

She supposes the suit always is dressed acceptably, but this is far more fashionable than their usual button down and tie.

A pinstripe vest accentuates a broad chest and a tidy waist. Their pants are… tighter? And perhaps a touch short—exposing the vulnerable jut of ankle bone. A quick scan informs her the agent is wearing vintage Brakala—a batarian designer of revolutionary couture, combining cultures and time periods—something that she doubts the agent would ever purchase for themself (let alone afford it with a government salary).

The navy fabric clings to their muscular frame and flatters their golden skin, EDI can concede.

Humans usually say something at such a sight, don’t they? Quickly, come up with something—

“You are… wearing more suit than usual?”

“Hello, Edie,” Agent Shepard says, and their face twists like it usually does when EDI talks to them—as if torn between hilarity and bewilderment. (This is a good reaction, right?) They smooth a large hand down their chest, looking down at the vest, a little self conscious—it’s charming. The action pushes out the suit jacket, and EDI catches a glimpse of their holstered pistol. Always armed. “I’m taking my wife out to dinner. Samara dressed us up, for some reason.”

“Not just for some reason, Shepard,” Samara says, swanning into view and petting the fur stole wrapped around her elegant neck. “It is the fourteenth anniversary of your first date—you must celebrate in style.” She pats the center of the suit’s chest twice, with a delicate jingle of silver bangles. She then gestures back to the open door with a deeply content expression. “Your radiant wife.”

And goodness gracious, radiant certainly is apt word choice. Samara has an impeccable vocabulary and knows exactly how to wield it, a quality EDI admires deeply.

“Mrs. Suit,” EDI says, because somebody has to respond, what with Kasumi audibly swooning behind her while the agent looks like someone hit them over the head with a baseball bat. “You look lovely. I mean—you always do. Of course. But—”

“Thank you, Edie,” Irikah Krios says, and dazzles EDI with a smile that could stop the heart beating in her chest (if she had one, that is). Irikah glances past her, notices the table cluttered with old paper, tubes of ink, the very obvious holoprojection of an ancient Hokusai, and raises a sly brow ridge. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

“You are a most welcome, and striking, reprieve from the bureaucratic oppression in my midst,” EDI says, tilting her head at the suit. It’s enough to jolt them out of their stupor.

She revels in Irikah’s laugh, a glorious tinkling of bells with the faint rumble of a purr underneath.

“Wow,” Agent Shepard says, drawing breath like they’ve surfaced from a deep dive. “Iri, wow!” They stagger towards their wife before finding their balance and nearly running to her, sliding big hands around the span of her waist and—

Well. The suit may not have the same dexterous command over language as Samara, but to cop a word—wow!

That is a smooch.

They kiss her once, fiercely; twice, sweetly; and a third time, briefly, before pressing their lips to the dark scales at the center of Irikah’s forehead, holding her close. She slides her hands up their sides and under their suit jacket, letting out a pleased hum, and then takes a step back to give her spouse (in Kasumi’s parlance) major elevator eyes.

“My, my,” Irikah says—and, wow! EDI can feel the vibrations of her throaty rumble from across the room. Her sunset-orange eyes positively shine through the dark sclera. “I almost want to open my present now.”

And will wonders never cease. A blush sits high across Agent Shepard’s cheekbones.

“Honey,” they say, shooting EDI and Kasumi a mortified glance. The blush has reached the tips of their ears, a scorching red.

Such a prude, really. EDI can read their biometrics, they can’t hide from her. It’s cute, though.

Irikah seems to agree, patting their cheek with a cooing trill. The suit practically melts into her touch.

Together they make a remarkably dashing couple. Under the warm vintage light, the two of them practically glow golden. Actually? Irikah, literally—again, wow! The burnt umbre silk of her simple gown slinks almost… obscenely over her body, thin as water, and as she presses back into her spouse, the fabric falls back to reveal a generous slice of a gold-scaled thigh. Kasumi makes a sound similar to a whistling kettle.

“How did you manage to land a date with that, Suit?” EDI surprises herself by blurting. Blurting! It’s. Well. Very unusual for her verbal processing to precede her. Part of EDI is satisfied that her organic coding seems to be rolling successfully, but another part of her wants to pull out her core and run some tests.

Irikah immediately lights up, something gleeful sparking behind her eyes—EDI feels something truly priceless is about to be dropped into her lap—and of course the agent spoils her fun, placing a finger over their wife’s opening mouth.

“Please, Iri,” Agent Shepard practically begs. “We have a reservation to catch.”

“Oh, honey,” Irikah says, fondly smoothing down the lapels of their jacket. “If you say so.”

They let out a gusty sigh of relief. Shepard turns to guide her out of the apartment, but she breaks away and beelines for Kasumi.

“Kasumi,” Irikah says, catching both of her hands. “Thank you, for bringing my spouse home to me.” She presses a kiss to Kasumi’s knuckles, and then ghosts her lips across her cheek.

EDI is certain her friend’s knees are audibly quaking before she manages to shrug off the thanks and find her own winning grin. “Anytime, Irikah. I… owe Mercy. A lot.”

The golden drell nods, gifts her with another sweet smile, and joins her spouse at the door. The suit gives Kasumi a solemn nod before wrapping an arm around their wife’s shoulders and guiding them out into the night air.

Samara looks fondly after the couple before winking at EDI and Kasumi—knowing, saucy!—and the door closes solidly behind her.

“EDI,” Kasumi groans, like she’s been punched in the gut and clutching at her forearm and squeezing. Her pressure sensors register remarkable force from Kasumi’s thin fingers. “EDI, those married people are going to be the death of me.”

“Yes, yes,” EDI agrees. She would bet actual money that her friend didn’t even notice Samara’s exit. “They’re both very shiny. But—hey!” she has to snap her fingers in front of Kasumi’s face a couple times to get her attention, and gestures back at the kitchen table. “We’ve got some work to do.”

(If you wanna know more about white collar au, here’s my first post sketching out the world! (it’s a lil outdated but bear w me))

thank you @jadevakarian for your batarian fashion designer’s name, brakala!!!! 🥰

thank you @acrylicsalts-inspo for the never-ending gift that is EDI as mozzie 🤌

to me @bbwind design of irikah krios is the ultimate. take a peep here and here 🤩

AND AGAIN THANK YOU @naarisz for blowing my tits CLEAN OFF the art you’ve made for me is nothing short of spectacular. Y’all go check out her shep Jocelyn and all the incredible stuff she creates 😍

#i don’t even know where to start #EDI is the shining light of my life #Kasumi is a bisexual disaster #irikah my golden goddess #MERCY with the SILVER STREAKS in their HAIR I’m gonna have a complete breakdown #samara the beloved retired criminal aunty lookin after kas n edi #off screen previous episode where mercy was kidnapped by liara bc she wanted to blackmail kasumi #oc: mercy shepard #themshep #irikah krios #shepard/irikah #eventual mercy/kas/iri #white collar au #mass effect

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aceghosts · 2 years

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For Rooney: ‘honestly, i’m always there. in my head. the scars on my body might’ve healed but i never really walked away from it.’

Thank you for sending this one in! It's been so long since I've written anything for Rooney; it was really nice to write for them again!

Prompt: ‘honestly, i’m always there. in my head. the scars on my body might’ve healed but i never really walked away from it.’ came from this Prompt List, and I combined it with this post of ideas from @irikahkrios, specifically: "sole survivor shepard brings irikah as the second squadmate on grunt's loyalty mission. they're visibly shaken after fighting the thresher maw, irikah can't help but notice, she opens up to them about the home invasion she only narrowly survived and the two of them have a conversation about trauma and healing."

Summary: During Grunt's loyalty mission, Irikah Krios notices that Commander Rooney Shepard, normally cool and collected, is thrown off by the Thresher Maw. After the trio return to the Normandy, Irikah is determined to find out what is bothering Shepard so much.

Words: 3,285 words.

Warnings: Heavy warnings for explicit descriptions of trauma, especially regarding the Krios family home invasion, and Akuze. This also mentions the missions in ME1 regarding Cerberus. Descriptions of Trauma, blood, death, and canon typical violence. I think I covered everything, but let me know if I missed anything.

Author’s Note: First, thank you to @irikahkrios for the ideas regarding Irikah. Second, I did take some liberties with both prompts, namely that this is a role swap between Thane and Irikah. So you know, no Thane. (I know; I'm evil. >=3). Third, this is my first time writing Irikah, so I hope I nailed her character. Fourth, the title from the AO3 version comes from Running From My Shadow by Mike Shinoda feat. grandson. (Please listen to Post Traumatic. It's such a good album.)

AO3

Irikah narrowly ducks behind cover, the ground shaking beneath her. She readies her pistol, the proving grounds eerily quiet as the trio waits for the Thresher Maw to strike. Any moment now, the Thresher Maw will show itself again. To her left, Irikah hears Grunt laugh loudly, cocking his Claymore shotgun. “FINALLY! A battle worthy of us, Shepard!”

She leans out of cover, catching sight of the Commander ducked behind another barrier to her right. Shepard’s eyes are wide in fear, the Widow Sniper Rifle gripped tightly in their hands. They shake, appearing to hyperventilate. A cold shiver runs down Irikah. Commander Shepard is scared? The Commander always seems unfazed by any challenge set before them and the crew, a sturdy pillar to lean against in the darkest times, and a soft place to land in the quiet moments. To see Commander Shepard undone by a creature like a Thresher Maw is unsettling. “Commander!” Shepard doesn’t respond, eyes darting back and forth. Irikah wonders what the Commander sees in the prison of their mind. “Shepard!”

Shepard’s head snaps toward her, sucking in a deep breath as Irikah pulls them back to reality. They nod, swallowing uneasily as they ready their sniper rifle. “Thank you,” Shepard replies shakily, seconds before the Thresher Maw bursts forth from beneath the ground. She watches as the Commander launches into actions, their movements shaky and less confident.

Irikah waits in Life Support; her mug of tea growing colder by the minute. Shepard should have arrived for their little chat by now. Normally, Shepard would come visit her with their mug of tea, and the pair would chat about any topic that came to mind: books, music, history, science, etc. Even if Irikah and Shepard saw things differently, Irikah appreciated their honesty and willingness to listen. It has been a long time since Irikah has made friends and an even longer time since she was close to someone outside of Kahje. Or at least, Irikah thought they were close. If Shepard couldn’t make it, they would let Irikah know through EDI or a simple message.

Getting up from the table, Irikah ventures out of Life Support. The Mess Hall is busy, Cerberus crew members chatting as they partake in shared meals. While she would consider herself on friendly terms with many of the crew members, Irikah worries about their anti-alien agenda. Continuing through the mess hall, Irikah catches a glimpse of a Joker through the Medbay window. If anyone knows where Shepard will be, it is certainly him. Shepard always speaks of him highly, clearly considering Joker to be a good friend, possibly their closest friend. And it’s not uncommon to find Shepard asleep in the copilot’s seat beside him.

The doors open with a soft noise, Irikah stepping through. Four pairs of eyes land on her, all watching with different degrees of wariness. Joker stands near the doorway, raising an eyebrow at her appearance. Garrus leans against one of the beds, watching her suspiciously. Tali smiles from behind her mask, always delighted to see Irikah. Dr. Chakwas also smiles warmly at her, but Irikah notes the concern hidden in her grey eyes. “Irikah, is something wrong? Your next checkup isn’t for a while.”

“I was hoping you would know where Shepard is. We were supposed to have tea this afternoon.” The atmosphere grows more serious, the four members of the Normandy’s original crew sharing anxious glances. “Is something the matter? Is the Commander unwell?”

“No one’s seen Shepard since Grunt’s Rite of Adulthood,” Garrus states, mandibles flaring slightly in concern.

“We know they went up to their cabin, but they haven’t come out yet.” Tali looks away, clearly worried if Shepard will ever leave their cabin.

“Why?” She asks, her mind running through the possibilities. Irikah settles on Shepard’s fear at the Thresher Maw, how they seemed so distant from the situation at hand. “Did it have something to do with the Thresher Maw?”

Again, more shared concerned glances. “Sorry, Irikah,” Joker smiles apologetically, “You’re gonna have to hear that story from Shepard.”

Irikah hums in response. “Perhaps, I will.”

Joker snorts in response. “Good Luck.” Irikah is going to get to the bottom of this. Thankfully, she might have someone willing to help her.

Armed with two mugs of cinnamon tea, Irikah steps into the Normandy’s elevator. “To Shepard’s cabin, please EDI.”

“As you wish, Irikah.”

“Thank you, EDI.” Shepard ordered EDI to allow no one up to their cabin. Miranda, Kelly, and a few other Cerberus Crew Members all tried to get to Shepard’s cabin, only to be blocked by EDI. EDI appeared to believe that Irikah’s presence would be soothing to Shepard, while any of the Cerberus crew members would only stress Shepard further. The door slides open, and Irikah steps silently into Shepard’s cool cabin. Venturing farther in, Irikah finds them at their desk, head buried in their hands. “Commander?”

No response.

“Shepard?”

No response.

“Shepard!”

Shepard’s head snaps up, eyes blinking rapidly. They spin around in their desk chair to face her, looking utterly perplexed. Shepard tilts their head slightly. “I don’t remember calling you-.” They pause midsentence, eyes focusing on the mugs in Irikah’s hands. Running their right hand through their short, dark red hair, Shepard stands up from their desk chair, extremely apologetic. “Irikah, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in work.” They motion for her to follow them down to the leather couch. “Please take a seat. I’m really sorry about this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Shepard.” Their shoulders drop in relief as she places the two mugs down on the ottoman. Taking a seat on the couch, Irikah pats the spot to her right. “I am worried about you, Shepard. You seemed unwell earlier today.”

“I’m fine.” Shepard’s response is unusually curt, an unreadable expression on their face. They don’t sit, hands curling into fists. “I’m fine. What happened earlier today was a moment of weakness and will not happen again. I apologize for my improper conduct, and I hope to regain your confidence. I understand if this impacts your view of me as Captain of the Normandy.”

Irikah blinks, jaw dropping in shock. Did Shepard think they had something to apologize for? The Commander always held themself to a high standard, determined to lead by example. This, however, was unhealthy. No one could handle this pressure, not even the infamous Commander Shepard. “Shepard,” She starts, picking her next words carefully, “I’m not here to berate you over your behavior. As far as I am concerned, you had an understandable reaction to a Thresher Maw.”

They tilt their head, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then, what are you here for?”

“Please, sit. I want to talk, as we normally do in Life Support.” She pats the leather couch again, hoping Shepard will join her.

Shepard stills, and Irikah worries they will continue to push her away. Eventually, they sigh, sitting down next to Irikah. Shepard picks up their mug, a simple black one, before taking a sip. They close their eyes briefly to enjoy the taste. “Thank you for the tea; I really needed this today.” Shepard places the mug back down on the ottoman.

She smiles, slightly relieved. “I’m glad I could make you feel better. Do you want to talk?” Shepard tenses beside her, right hand forming into a tight fist. Irikah won’t push Shepard to talk, but it might help them open up if Irikah is honest with them. “I used to panic whenever anyone would knock on the door,” Shepard raises an eyebrow, tilting their head in slight confusion, “When Thane’s enemies attacked our family, I remember them knocking on the door. A knock on the door would bring those memories rushing back.”

Irikah feels the gentle, warm touch of a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, Irikah. You should only talk about it when you’re ready, whether it’s with me or someone else you trust.”

There is the Shepard she knows, sturdy and understanding. “No, I want to tell you, Shepard. I opened the door, thinking it must be one of my sisters or my neighbors. Instead, I was thrown back into our home, only to be viciously attacked. Thane’s enemies were relentless; they wanted to send a message, one that could only be sent through violence and death. I screamed for Kolyat to hide; He was always good at hide and seek as a child.” Her body tenses, the memories flooding back as she recalls them. “I yell ‘Kolyat, hide!’.’ He freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. The Glass drops from his hand. I yell again ‘KOLYAT GO!’ He runs. Arashu, protect him.” She feels the gentle squeeze of Shepard’s hand on her shoulder in comfort. “I lost a lot of blood that night. Unfortunately, I still remember every second of it. Thankfully, Thane arrived shortly after. I thanked Arashu, thinking she must have heard my prayers.”

Irikah closes her eyes, tears burning at the corners. Even after all these years, her love for Thane still burns strong. The memories take over again, her body stiffening. “It hurts. It hurts so much. I hear Thane. He begs for our lives. ‘Not her. Not my son.’. The Batarian does not care. He laughs; he laughs at Thane’s pain. He laughs at our pain. I see a pistol. As I take it, the pistol is heavy in my hand. I pull the trigger. BOOM! The sound is deafening. I drop it, ears ringing, as I crawl towards Thane. I hear him. I hear him, struggling to breathe. ‘Thane,’ I cry, ‘Thane, please….’. I pull him into my arms. He is so heavy, but I will hold him. He says, ‘Siha…’.” She jerks back to the present, swallowing down a sob. “I held my husband as his soul departed his body; I would not allow the man I love to be alone in his final moments.” Tears are now freely flowing as Shepard releases her shoulder. Instead, they pull her close, Irikah burying her face in the soft fabric of their N7 hoodie. Shepard’s hand rubs comforting circles on her back. “My soul almost departed as well, but Kolyat, oh Kolyat, he was so smart. He was able to sneak out and sought help from our neighbors.”

“Irikah,” They trail off, their voice soft and empathetic, “I’m sorry. That is an awful thing to go through.”

“It was.” The pair are quiet, sitting comfortably in the silence of Shepard’s cabin. After a while, when the tears have stopped, Irikah pulls away, Shepard releasing her. They watch with concern as she wipes at her eyes. “I struggled with it afterwards. For a long time, I was scared of strangers, and of anyone knocking on the door. When I was staying with my sister, and I was home alone, someone knocked on the door and I…I panicked. I hid and was only found a few hours later. It was a neighbor, who knocked, trying to deliver some home baked goods. My Sister insisted I talk to someone. I think she wanted it to be her, but I was not ready to talk about it with her.”

“Who did you talk with?”

“One of Arashu’s Priestesses, Adrami. She was an older woman, much older than I was, but I found wisdom in her guidance. She helped me deal with my feelings, navigate how complicated they were. Eventually, she connected me with others, who had been through similar things. Having that community helped, and in time, I began to talk and start to take back my life.” She gazes curiously over at Shepard. “Do you talk with anyone?”

Shepard sighs, running a hand through their short dark hair. “I used to talk about Akuze with the group.”

“The Group?”

They nod. “Anderson made me go to it. Threatened to kick me out if I didn’t. It was a group of six of us, all Alliance soldiers, plus a counselor who was former Alliance. We met virtually or in person once a week. At first, we tried to avoid the elephant in the room; no one wanted to talk about what they’d been through. But we couldn’t avoid it. We started talking about it, and it helped, knowing that I wasn’t the only one who went through something terrible. Our Counselor, Tom, helped us find ways to deal with it too. Got me through a lot of dark thoughts.” Shepard smiles, remembering the group with great fondness. “We became closer and started healing. We would get together once a year and celebrate another year alive. I miss ‘em a lot.”

“You should reach out to them; I’m sure they would like to hear from you.”

Shepard frowns, eyes darkening as they shake their head. “No. They don’t want to hear from me, especially since I’m ‘working’ for Cerberus now.”

There is a decidedly bitter tone to the way Shepard mentions Cerberus. Irikah knew the Commander didn’t like Cerberus, but she assumed that Shepard didn’t like their humanity first agenda. This sounded personal. “Shepard, did Cerberus have something to do with Akuze?” Shepard stiffens, hands shaking. “Shepard, I-.”

“No,” They cut her off, clearing their throat, “You’ve earned this answer.” They take a deep breath, and Irikah takes their right hand into her hands. “Akuze was supposed to be a routine mission. We were going to find a missing pioneer team,” Shepard has a faraway look in their eyes, as they continue with a slightly distant tone, “We didn’t find the team, so we settled down for the night. Toombs, a friend of mine, and I were part of the first group on watch duty. Once the sun descended, the Thresher Maws were upon us.” Shepard draws a shaky breath. “It was awful, almost as bad as Mindoir. There were so many goddamn Thresher Maws; turns out we were on top of a nest. I was helpless. I’ll never forget the screams of my teammates. Toombs was the worse.” Shepard stops, shaking harder.

She squeezes their hand gently. “If you don’t want to-.”

“No. I want to tell you; I know you’ll understand.” Shepard swallows, composing themself. “Toombs and I tried to fight off the Thresher Maws. The ground collapsed below us at one point, and one of those fucking Thresher Maws started to pull him under. I tried so goddamn hard to save him, but I was helpless as I watched those monsters drag my friend underneath. I was knocked out, and by some miracle, I woke up, the only one alive. So, I did what any good Alliance soldier does: I got up and dragged my ass to the landing zone. After that, I was recruited for the ICT and became an N7.”

Irikah feels for Shepard; what an awful thing to have gone through. Yet, she still doesn’t understand how Cerberus is involved. “I’m sorry you went through that, Shepard. I fail to see what Cerberus has to do with Akuze.”

“During our mission to stop Saren and the Reapers, we encountered Cerberus twice. First, Cerberus was involved in the disappearance of Admiral Kahoku’s men. We were able to find his men and the Cerberus cell involved with their deaths. Admiral Kahoku was a good man, and he paid the ultimate price for searching for justice for his men.” Shepard’s tone is frighteningly cold, laced with bitterness and anger. Their dark blue eyes remind Irikah of the ocean on a dark and stormy night, of how tumultuous the waves are. “Admiral Hackett asked me to investigate Alliance Scientists being murdered. Turns out they were all former Cerberus.”

Irikah’s eyes widen, knowing exactly where this was leading. Cerberus had a dark reputation beyond its hatred of aliens. She had heard all about rumors of unethical Cerberus experiments. “Those former scientists had something to do with Akuze. Didn’t they?”

Shepard nods. “Eventually, we managed to catch up to one of the scientists. When we arrived, a former Cerberus scientist was being held hostage. Turns out I wasn’t the only survivor. Toombs also survived, but unlike me, Cerberus found him and experimented on him for years. They did awful, horrific things to him; things that no one should ever have to go through. Toombs also told me that Cerberus was responsible for luring the Thresher Maws, that we were just goddamn expendable to them,” Shepard glances over their shoulder towards their terminal, “Toombs contacted me; he found out I was alive and with Cerberus.”

“Shepard….” Irikah trails off, her heart aching for them.

They pull their hand out of her hands, standing up from the couch. Shepard walks away from her, their back to her. Stopping in front of the fish tank, Shepard reaches up, tracing along their left cheek. “Honestly, I’m always there, in my head. The scars on my body might’ve healed but I never really walked away from it,” Irikah gets up from the couch, joining them by the fish tank, “And now, the Illusive Man wants to pretend that Akuze didn’t happen, that Cerberus should be absolved since they brought me back to life. Everyone else gets to forget; I don’t get that luxury. I have to remember; someone has to remember what Cerberus has done.”

“Reliving the memories is a difficult thing, especially when you can’t avoid what reminds you of them.”

“Must be more intense for you. I don’t know what I would do if I had an eidetic memory.”

“Sometimes, it is very intense, but it helps having someone to pull you back.” Shepard looks over, gratefulness on their face. “You know, Shepard,” She suggests slyly with a smirk on her face, “If we were ever to rebel against Cerberus, I would join in you bringing them to justice.”

Shepard laughs, a wide smile on their face. “Thanks, Irikah. When we start kicking Cerberus ass, you’ll be one of the first people I call. Although, I think we’re going to have to stop the Collectors and Reapers first. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Irikah and Shepard both laugh, diffusing the tension in the room. When they finish laughing, Shepard grows slightly serious, clearing their throat as they turn towards her. “Thank you for listening. It was nice to get this off my shoulders. If you ever need to talk about anything, I’ll always be happy to listen, no matter what.”

Irikah turns toward Shepard, before pulling them into a hug. Shepard stiffens at first, clearly surprised by the gesture of affection. A second later, they relax, returning the hug. Shepard feels so warm and soft against her. “I’m always happy to listen, Shepard, no matter what. And you’ve been a great listener already,” She pulls away from them, “It’s been a long time since I’ve found people, I can trust outside of Kahje, and you are one of them.”

They look genuinely touched, smiling softly at her. “Thank you, Irikah, and for what it’s worth, I trust you too.” Shepard gently pats her shoulder, looking over to the mugs of tea a few seconds later. “I think our tea has gone cold. We should probably get new cups,” Shepard frowns, pausing for a moment, “and I should probably let Joker know I’m still alive. I have a feeling if I don’t leave my cabin soon, he’ll find some way to cajole EDI into helping him.”

“He’s been trying, Shepard,” EDI admits, “I told him that you and Irikah were having a serious conversation, and that it would be rude to interrupt.”

“Well come on,” Shepard says with a smile, heading over to the ottoman to grab both mugs, “We shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect fanfic #masseffectfanfic #Commander Shepard #Themshep #Irikah Krios #the rooney fic tag #Commander Rooney Shepard #I won't let fear compromise who I am #kate writes #I really hope this turned out okay #I think I did Irikah a pretty good job #also drell flashbacks scenes are the worst to write #I hate them

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