#ive said it before but if zevran had showed up sooner he would have been her canon love intrest

[crows-of-buckets]

Thinking too hard about Aviae and Zevrans friendship and it's making me Ill

[jacklyn-flynn]

For all of you who are eagerly awaiting this update…I am in awe. Your patience is incredible and I very much love you for it! I continually hope to deliver content that is worthy of your loyalty.

For all of you who have been asking “what even is Jasoom?!”….here you go. Be careful what you wish for. I cried writing it so consider yourself warned. Buckle the fuck up for this roller coaster.

Link to Chapter 8. 

Link to the beginning of the Space Trash story. 

Teaser below the cut. Comments, thoughts and GIFs of your reaction to Jasoom’s story are much appreciated. 

Oh, just as a note: I know this seems a little out of character for Cass and it is. On purpose.

He knew that he was dying. Yet, all of the fear he felt wasn’t for himself. He didn’t know what sort of creature he heard from the vent by his cage. It sounded young to him somehow. When it spoke to itself in the long hours, the voice was high and bright. He could hear the loneliness in its sobs and feel the despair when it cried out in its sleep. His life in that small metal box had been a horrific trial of both pain and utter boredom. He hated to think of another suffering the same fate.

He now lay on his side, struggling past the pain in his ribs to draw in air. His matted black fur was thin and brittle. Patches were missing where he had been shaved for an IV or procedure or where it had simply fallen out. He couldn’t feel his feet or the end of his tail.

Yet, as much as he wished for death, he wished to stay. Though he didn’t know what the creature looked like, it didn’t matter. He could feel it. Feel for it. They had that connection. He, too, had lain awake at night, yowling in pain and fear. He’d gotten used to the loneliness years ago, but he remembered what it felt like. 

There were times since it had arrived that he’d had enough strength to make noises to it. He knew it could hear him because it would stop talking or crying to listen. It had even started making noises back at him. Mimicking his meow or starting to chatter to him softly. Those nights grew rarer for him as he grew weaker. Enough so that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the strength to make any noise. 

Just then, he heard it. Chattering to him in nonsense noises that meant nothing to him. Despite that, he knew well enough what it was doing. It was simply filling the time. It spoke lovingly and he was even gifted with a rare giggle. 

It was unfair. The people in pristine white coats, stealing their lives from them. Their laughter. Replacing it instead with despair and pain. But that wasn’t something to fill one’s last thoughts with. Instead, he listened to it meow, sing, and talk to him. 

There was a loud clatter and metal scraping against metal before it went silent. It started to cry, quietly. Resigned almost. Another clattering and everything was silent. It was gone. It was scared to go as it always was. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t. Couldn’t even open his eyes. If only he could wish for one freedom in his life, it would be to find that poor creature and comfort it. Let it comfort him. If only he had died sooner, he could have left listening to its sweet noises. Instead, he could only burn with anger. 

He suddenly felt an odd sensation. A feeling of warmth coming from seemingly nowhere. And it called to him. It didn’t speak, or even make noise, but he knew exactly what it was trying to communicate. 

-Do you want to help her?- Her? Yes. 

-You can’t save her.- I know. 

-You won’t be here. I will use your materials after you go.- But she won’t be alone? Ever again?

-No.-

He gave his assent with no hesitation. Finally, he could let go without regret. He would find peace knowing it-she would no longer be alone as he had been.

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The body was old beyond its years and incredibly fragile.  The spirit was amazed that the cat had attracted his attention. The soul made up in strength what the body lacked. The spirit wasn’t very strong himself. A minor spirit that others, even demons, paid no mind to. Not strong enough to manipulate the fade around it as other spirits could. Yet this creature had called to the spirit. Not for itself, but for another.

Its need was so strong and spoke to him in such a way that he couldn’t resist its call. There were several creatures here who suffered. But none more so than the creature this cat had bonded with, unseen and untouched. The body would take time to heal, but it-he, now-was strong enough to move it. The memories he sifted through were largely unpleasant so he ignored them and focused on those of the girl in the cell. 

He slipped into the space between the Fade and the physical realm. For most, the Veil was a barrier between the two. For the lesser spirits, it could be traversed in small distances. They were the spiritual vermin in the walls. He found her quickly. Unconscious on a stark white bed. Odd machinery was connected to her, some appearing to assist and others seemingly to restrain her. 

Feeling the hints of her emotions, he sensed she would be waking soon. This had never happened before. Her body being opened. She would be in pain. Scared. 

But no longer alone. 

With a struggle, he hopped onto the bed. He stepped up onto her stomach and then over her chest, settling where he could feel her heart beating. She was warm and he hoped that his body, curled against hers, would provide her with the same feeling. 

When he finally felt her stir, he started purring. He didn’t even mean to. Didn’t know he could. He just did. A soft vibration deep in his chest. Her eyes opened, mossy green and glassy with drugs. When they focused on him, she gasped softly. For the immediate moment, the drugs that clouded her mind kept the pain at bay and let her focus on him. 

Her lopsided smile made him purr louder. He stretched out his neck to brush his cheek against her chin and was rewarded with a giggle. She couldn’t move to pet him, but he somehow knew that she wanted to. She started to talk but he didn’t understand her. He would, someday, so he listened to her happy noises and the memories of the feline came back. How much it had meant to him to connect with her through that long vent. 

He could feel it too. The peace of companionship. He was glad he had answered the call. In the Fade, he had no purpose and served no cause. 

Now, he belonged to this little girl. 

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Jules woke with a headache so strong she could hear the rush of her pulse echoing in her ears. With a groan, she reached up to pet Jasoom, feeling the vibration of his purr against her breastbone. His silky fur against her palm and fingers was instantly calming. Though she didn’t want to, Jules opened her eyes. 

She was in some sort of cell. With a quick glance around, she noticed that the Tevinter mage, Dorian, was with them as well. Zevran had also been close to her when Alexius’s spell was interrupted, but she didn’t see him nearby. Jasoom hopped off of her chest to allow her to sit up. She shook Dorian’s shoulder and he woke with a shout. 

“Hey! Sorry!” She said quickly, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm. “It’s just us.” 

Dorian nodded before running his hands through his hair. Once he was satisfied with the result, he righted his curling mustache, pinching it between his fingers to ensure every hair was in the correct place. Jules, on the other hand, didn’t even notice that much of her hair had fallen out of the elastic band. 

“Jas, can you go see if anyone else is around here?” She asked, pushing herself to her feet. With one raised brow, Dorian watched the midnight black cat slip through the shimmering blue anti-magic barrier and between the metal bars. 

“That is not a cat,” he said with a definitive pointing of his finger. “A cat most certainly cannot do that. What is that?” 

Jules shrugged, checking her weapons which were oddly still at her side. “That’s Jasoom.” 

“That does not answer my question.” Dorian pointed out. 

She took out her hair, combing her fingers roughly through it before putting it back up. “I don’t know what he is. Solas thinks he’s a spirit, Varric thinks he’s some kind of mythical trickster god and Morgan thinks he’s the physical manifestation of the innocence I lost as a child trying to protect me as an adult.”

Dorian was at a loss for words. The last one, especially, would require a much longer conversation than they had time for. Instead, he just cleared his throat. “I see.”

[crows-of-buckets]

#dragon age#oc: aviae surana#crow rambles#you look into the assassins eyes and you see a twisted mirror of yourself. of the internal struggle between the want of survival and the#want of it all to end. you hold your hand out to him. this will change both of your lives forever#and when the archdemon is dead and your lover has left you and the pieces you had been frantically trying to hold together fall apart and#shatter. he holds out his hand to you.#THEY MAKE ME SICK. SICK. IM NAUSEOUS OUGGHHHHH#both of them are living for the first time. both of them grew up trapped in a gilded cage. they recognize it in each other#theres a certain instant understanding between them. maybe neither of them notice it but they both warm up to each other very fast#aviae has reason to be wary of everyone in the party: alistair was almost a templar. morrigan is. well morrigan. wynne is too pro circle for#aviae to truly let down her guard around. leliana is too attached to the maker for her. ironically the assassin is the one she bares her#throat to willingly. she sees the reflected desire and WANT of survival in him. the longing for freedom. it just. oughhhh#ive said it before but if zevran had showed up sooner he would have been her canon love intrest#however i MUCH prefer their friendship it does something to my brain chemistry#she can just be so??? bare and honest with him?? when she tells him about the circle and its horrors#about waking up to friends missing. about templars eyes lingering where they were unwanted. about the constant surveillance she went through#he GETS it. i get why people are so ill avout zevsurana bc their friendship alone has me about to sob#it is 2:38 am and i cannot fall asleep bc i am thinking about them. insane

okay no apparently im not done with this i woke up thinking about it. Aviae and her breakdown post origins is so fascinating to me. Shes lived her whole life, head on a metaphorical chopping block, and now the axe has swung and by some miracle it missed her neck. Now there's nothing hanging over her head, and for the first time her life cannot revolve around surviving. Because she's done that!! She survived!! Now she has to figure out what exists outside of that and it. oughhhh. Freedom feels weird and she doesn't know what to do with it. This is also around the time where she starts to realize that the wardens are just another pretty cage shes trapped in and she starts to resent them so much for it.

Theres so much guilt and conflicting feelings about the fact that she even is alive. She wants to be alive. But she doesn't know what to do with it. She's tired. She needs a break but god knows shes not going to get one. The archdemon is dead and now she has no goal, and is just? There. She has no goal. She has no one telling her what to do. For the first time in her life shes aimless. The blight is done.

Now she has to figure out how to live without being in survival mode, and it manages to kick off one of her worst depressive episodes of her life. Aviae Surana and the no good, very bad Awakening DLC

Thinking too hard about Aviae and Zevrans friendship and it's making me Ill