So I love Shakarian almost as much as I love Shrios (which wouldn’t be true if Thane wasn’t fucked over and Garrus wasn’t given the perfect romance path in ME3). And Garrus is so important to Shep (most Sheps, I won’t say all of them, but to all my Sheps) that I couldn’t not write something about him and my Shep.read more
So this has little point than I once read somewhere about how all boyfriends could fit a season. It was some sort of odd essay on the internet that was confusing and so I didn’t read much past that part. But that stuck with me and I tried to apply it to Mass Effect. Hopefully it makes sense. Also, just my opinions on the characters and their romances (as bioware wrote them).
F!Shep needs more options for boyfriends. I mean, this doesn’t even work because with Liara, technically Shep is the boyfriend. Argh.
Kaidan was like the summer. He was like a fine zephyr and easy. She could see him on a beach, shirtless and all smiles. She could see him at a party, the warm night air just barely uncomfortable, staring out at the expanse of the horizon. He was fun and oh so bright. Like the summer vacations. There was no bad allowed because this- this was meant never to last. There could be no faults and there could be no frowns. And so when she faltered and tripped and had to find something comfortable and cozy, he watched her go- let her go- with a forlorn expression, clutching to that soft summer wind.
Liara was much like the fall. Sweet and languid. She was stable and adoring. Soft in all the right ways and precious. She was like long walks, bundled with a scarf, where everything was tranquil. The world tucking itself in for sleep. Liara was like that. But there was so little strength behind it. There was so little passion that left her gasping for more. Liara didn’t strike that desire deep within her core, twisting her and exciting her. She was too far in fall to have the strengths of the other seasons.
Thane was like the spring. He was just like spring. So beautiful. He was gentle, but the strength of a crisp winter behind him and the easy fun of summer just ahead if he would only be allowed to grasp it. He was the gentleman and the warrior. Skilled but humble. And like the spring he was so quickly gone. Spring always left so quick, the swirl of everything too wonderful to stay.
Garrus, he was like the winter. Winter was beautiful but cold. Harsh and real as it surrounded her. But that strength was comforting. The constant presence. Like summer. But there was a sort of grounding to winter that made him stable. He was the type to sit in with her, cuddle through the good and bad with a shot of whiskey. Hold her hand during the blizzards and throw snowballs at her during the beautiful calm. There were no repercussions to growing the natural winter coat and there was the celebration of the new year. Winter could be hard and angry, but it could also be brilliant and soft. And winter lingered, the touches of winter lasting for such a long time as if always so reluctant to let her go. Timid but attempting to keep her.