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#Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep: The Lovers

zegalba · 1 year

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Donato Giancola: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep: The Lovers (detail), 2009

#donato giancola #Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep: The Lovers #art #illustrations #detail #lovecore #2009

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temptresstitania · 2 months

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need this but black and lesbian

Donato Giancola, "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep: The Lovers"

#dyke nsft #from the temple #t4t nsft #nblw nsft #black nsft #terato #robophilia

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prolix-yuy · 9 months

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Chapter 8: And I Was Reborn

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: The only thing left is a question. And an answer.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: M, mention of nudity, allusions to sexual acts, mild body horror relating to being a host (not gory, but descriptive of seeing under the skin and a skull), sort of playing fast and loose with how the hosts work, was E in previous chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: After everything they've been through, it's come down to this. This is the penultimate chapter, with only the epilogue left, and one big question still left unanswered. I'll leave it to you to find out what that is, and what Sugar's answer will be.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

Morning slips into the bedroom like a lover, quiet and soft at your back. You blink awake slowly, eyes blurred as you acclimate. Cream-colored walls lend a stark difference from the blue quilt draped over you and Jack. You smile into your pillow, toes curling between the sheets.

True to his word, Russell didn’t come scratching and snuffling at the door until several hours after Jack locked him out. It was plenty of time for you to talk, wrapped in each other’s arms. Jack told you about traveling across the country looking for a home, working whatever drifter jobs he could get to pay his way. You asked why here, why this town, and he said it was the first one that felt anything like home. The people helped, and the slow discovery of who he was with free will did the rest.

Jack in turn learned about you, the real you that he never truly got to meet. The things you like to do, the places that make you happy. It strikes you as a shorter list than you thought, the things you left in your small apartment barely taking up space in your heart. In this house, a rekindling has taken place and a warm fire now burns in your hearth, well tended.

When Jack left to let Russell out, as bare as the day he was made, you laid back on the bed and contemplated the life Jack built. Years of grinding away at a job that kept you comfortable but unfulfilled paled in comparison to the muscle memory of a hard day’s work. Could you find happiness in taking up reins and helping the community around you? Or had you been so far gone from it that you’d make a mess of anything you touched?

Jack returned soon after, his nonchalant nudity heating your skin.

“I have dessert if you’d like something sweet,” Jack said, smirking a little at the end.

“I’ll take anything you’re offering, handsome.”

It took another hour before you actually tasted the peach cobbler Jack made, sitting on his lap in nothing but a sheet wrapped around the two of you. He warmed the cobbler first before drenching it in cream, and the spiced sweetness tasted even better on his tongue. The last thing you remembered before drifting off back in his bed was the slow devotion of hands on your skin soothing you to sleep.

Now his head is thrown back on the pillow, lips slightly parted and eyes shut. You watch his profile bathed in morning light. The perfect curve between his nose and chin to fit your lips. The stretch of his neck to his chest rising and falling. One hand lays on his stomach, fingers curled in lazy artfulness.

Do androids dream of electric sheep? you think briefly, reaching out to touch the strong line of his bicep. You trace from his shoulder to the dip by his elbow, baby hairs along your path standing up. Blue-green veins are barely visible by his wrists, the smooth expanse of his chest dotted with freckles. He’s imperfect, and that’s more amazing to you. Every bit of him unique, down to the spots around his chin where no stubble grows. You wouldn’t know him to be anything but real.

He is real, you scold yourself. Every part of him is real, and true. He just didn’t grow into his body the way you did. The scars that detail your history, the stretch marks, the bends and breaks of a body worn by time, yours is happenstance and circumstance. His is purposeful.

Your touch slides over to lay your hand over his. The rise and fall of his chest makes a soothing pattern with his heartbeat.

Rise

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum

Fall

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum

Jack’s hand flexes open, and you slide your fingers between. He pulls your joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss on your knuckles, a deep sigh precluding his head turning in the pillow.

“Morning Sugar. You sleep okay?”

You nod, scooting closer to him and pressing a kiss of your own to his shoulder.

“Best I’ve slept in weeks.” You’re not lying. Not an ominous dream in sight.

“Me too,” Jack says, rolling to his side and pulling you into his embrace. His shoulders block out the harsher rays, a halo of light illuminating his fluffy bedhead. You run your fingers through it absently.

Not a hair on his head that wasn’t put there. Not a thing on him that wasn’t done on purpose. And not a single part of it looks manufactured.

“You’re thinking awfully loud this early in the morning,” Jack says, stroking the small of your back. You consider what saying anything in this quiet moment could mean, but you both have come so far in just one weekend. It’s time for you to be as honest as he’s been.

“There’s still a part of me that tells me you can’t be a host. That you’re so perfectly imperfect that nature must have made you.” Stroking long paths through his dark locks, you worry at your lower lip. “Is that bad, that I can’t help but think it? You’ve proven it all to me several times over, it’s just…it’s still something hard to believe, I guess.”

Jack’s eyes drift off, chewing the inside of his mouth before he sits up against the headboard. You come upright too, and he guides you between his bent legs. You let yours fold over his thighs, sitting face to face as he holds your hands in his.

“Does it make it harder, not seeing the machine?” he asks. You soothe him with your thumbs.

“I wish I could say it didn’t. Everyone suspends their disbelief in the parks, right? But we all know that it’s not real.” You study Jack’s face carefully. He’s not upset, or hurt. There’s something resolute in his expression. “I guess it does make it harder for me. I like to understand, and it’s hard not understanding how this all works.”

Jack nods, squeezing your hands tighter.

“What if I could show you exactly what’s at the center of me?”

His eyes stay locked on your face, and you realize he’s giving you something exceedingly precious. It’s not to be handled lightly.

“Maybe I should just have faith,” you acquiesce, smoothing your thumbs along his knuckles. He squeezes again to draw your attention.

“It’s okay,” Jack says, eyes soft. “I’ll show you.” He waits for your nod.

Settling himself against the headboard, he ticks his jaw and takes a few grounding breaths. The calm warmth of the morning becomes stifling, your palms sweaty as he holds one in his hand.

“What I’ve learned from all the manuals and the programs is that you can’t tell. You’re not supposed to. Everything’s realistic except for one thing. They never saw much use for making it look like a brain.” Jack presses his thumb into your palm. “Once it’s not in contact with me I’m gonna freeze up, Sugar, so put it back when you’re done.”

Your heart hammers in your throat. “Jack, what is it?”

Jack’s smile quirks up in the corner, but you also catch a thin veil of fear.

“Maeve called it a pearl. Made it sound valuable. Precious.” He holds your worried look, chucking a knuckle under your chin.

Then his hand falls, and he changes.

Bloodless seams crawl across his face, his eyes going glassy. One splits his face down the center, drawn along the curve of his nose through the dimple in his lower lip. The corners of his lips extend up to his hair, slashing across his cheekbones. Another traces his jawline, the folds of his jowls. A series of small clicks and whirs precede the seams widening, and Jack’s face opens to reveal a smooth white skull beneath. No gore, like a mask peeled off in sections and pulled away for inspection by tiny armatures. Your stomach drops, nausea threatening your throat but you swallow hard. The eyeless skull smiles back at you before you notice another series of cracks, and the second layer breaks open. The skull separates into four quadrants, and from that fissure extends a cylinder presenting a smooth metallic ball. Prongs hold it tight against the protuberance, and you startle when Jack’s hand reaches in to pluck it from his mangled face. Thick fingers grasp the shiny surface as he guides the ball to your palm.

It’s warm against your skin, sinking into the cup of your hand. You open your mouth to say something but the moment Jack’s hands leave the reflective surface every tiny motion stills. What was once solid flesh beneath your legs is hardened marble, not a tremble in his frame. Heart racing, tears well in your eyes as you study the fractured man who’s put his whole trust into the palm of your hand.

“Jack?” you whisper, but nothing moves. The stillness roars in your ears, hands shaking with the pearl clutched between them. Cautiously, you let your fingertips roam the edges of his face, stomach rolling at the uncanniness of seeing something so human turned inside out. Your fingers are shaking, pressing against his chest for a heartbeat that’s eerily absent. He’s a statue, nude and serene.

Finally, you turn your attention back to the pearl in your hand. It’s hardly the size of an egg, black as obsidian and smooth. Your reflection warps back up at you, parted lips quivering as you study it. This must be what makes Jack work. This sphere holds his memories, his quirks and tells, and even though saying it out loud would make it cliche, his soul.

To Delos, searching for their rogue host that’s become troublingly sentient, it’s probably worth millions. But to you, it is infinitely precious. You will never be shown trust this deep, this endless, by anyone else in your lifetime. Jack willingly put his life in the palm of your hand. What could you possibly do to show him that trust, that faith, that love in return?

It comes to you in another breath. Oh Jack. He’s given you exactly what you need to prove it to him. Leaning down, you bring your cupped hands to your lips and press a kiss to the pearl. He’ll never know, never see this moment, but you’ll know that your devotion is etched on his soul. Letting your lips brush it once more, you whisper.

“I’ll always hold it, Jack.”

Just as he did, you place the pearl into its delicate cage, watching with fascination as it retracts back into Jack’s head. The pieces of his skull pull together, and slowly he becomes the man you love once more. When the final piece clasps shut and Jack blinks, you throw yourself into his arms, straddling him breathlessly. His hands come up to soothe along your back, inhaling your scent as you fight back tears.

“Feels like it took a little while, did you drop it?” Jack tries to joke, the rumble of his chest soothing after feeling it so still. When you don’t move he pulls you in tighter, pressing kisses by your ear.

“Was it too much? Sorry, I should have…” he starts to say, but you silence him with your lips. He lets you lead, gripping his face and tilting his head back to inhale him. He reassures you between devotions with murmurs of “I’m here, Sugar. I’m right here.” When he guides you to your back, tangled in sheets and legs until you’re not sure where you end and he begins, he whispers, “I’m here.” And when he sheaths inside you, cradling you against him he groans, “Here, right here.”

Beneath your hands he’s pulsing, gasping, trembling. Alive. Jack. Your Jack. Always.

When you finally untangle, sated and drained, Jack lets you make breakfast. Fresh eggs and toast, a crumble of bacon for Russell before you serve yourselves. Across the table Jack still manages to touch you, foot pressed inside your ankle reassuringly.

It’s so easy to imagine this as any morning. Maybe you’d follow it with chores, prepare for the week ahead. Outdoor work until the sun is too hot, making plans around cold drinks in the evening. Every night a heartbeat under your hand.

“Still thinking loud, Sugar,” Jack interrupts, his crooked smile playful but you glimpse trepidation in his brow. It’s Sunday after all, and with that comes the “real world” you both alluded to all weekend. Pushing around the last remnants of eggs, you contemplate.

“I’d like to take a walk around, clear my head a bit,” you say, letting Jack’s nod reassure you.

“Maybe let Russ out, he’s been cooped up all night and we haven’t been paying a lick of attention to him,” he says, scritching the terrier behind his ears. You rise and lead a doting Russell to the front door, Jack lingering in the kitchen. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, sunlight greets you on the patio.

Russell bounds out and off to run a few circles in the yard, a blur of white and brown. Your feet take you aimlessly, thoughts clouding your vision.

Before you left, you knew it was possible that seeing Jack would change things. You prepared for a conversation about what might happen when the weekend ended. There were possibilities lined up neatly for scrutiny. You could stay in touch, visit each other. The care you felt would have time and distance to grow. Then, when you knew each other better, you could take that next step and meld your lives together. Most likely something closer to what you live now, allowing you to straddle the line between the “real world” and Jack’s new and improved Sweetwater. It all sounded feasible, rational, reasonable.

Looking up, you realize your restless feet took you back to the barn, and right up to Daybreak’s stall. She lifts her nose over the gate, knocking you in the shoulder playfully before allowing you to stroke her snout. The sharp scent of horse fills your lungs, tamped with sweet grass and hay. When you scratch along her muzzle she snorts, whuffling at your pockets for treats.

“Sorry girl, next time,” you promise.

That’s when you realize how easily next time came to you, and how soon it felt. Not next time as in six months from now. Or three months. In your heart, now truly open, you know what your answer will be to the unspoken question hanging over your visit. Pressing your forehead to Daybreak’s, you smooth your hands along her graceful neck.

“Thanks, girl,” you murmur, her soft huff a comfort.

Jack is standing on his porch when you exit the barn, trying his best to look nonchalant but his tells are all on display. Hand on his hip, fingers clenching too tight. Jaw ticking back and forth. The smile he gives you fighting to reach his eyes. You mount the steps and slide an arm around his waist, reveling in the relief of his embrace. For a long minute he just holds you, your head on his chest to listen to his stilted breaths. Finally he pulls back, eyes shining.

“I’m…so glad you came,” he manages to get out, rubbing his hands firmly up and down your arms. It clenches your heart, watching him struggle. You open your mouth but he motions for a moment more.

“I know we didn’t start off quite the way either of us hoped, but now, with everything out in the open and all that you’ve seen, I hope you’ll consider my proposition.” A smile tugs at your lips but Jack’s railroading mouth keeps you grounded.

“I know there’s a big world out there for you, and you’ve got a place in it. And here’s just a small slice of life that most people never even think about. But it’s mine, and I…I want you to know it’s mine to give. To you. You can have as much of it as you want. Because…” Here Jack takes in a breath, and you take his face in your hands. “Because I can’t go with you. I tried a few times, but I kept having close calls and near misses of being found. Just coming to see you was a risk, one I’d gladly take a thousand times over, but I can’t live like that. It’s here or someplace like it, and I wouldn’t ask for you to give up everything…”

“Jack,” you interrupt, tilting his gaze back to yours. Stroking your thumbs down his five o’clock shadow, you let him know exactly what you’ve already decided.

“I’m not going back.”

His face contorts in confusion, then dismissal.

“Sugar, you can’t…” You press a thumb against his soft lips, mustache tickling the tip.

“I’ve been waiting for something to tell me I made the right choice, and that all the pain was worth it. This is it. You are my choice. This, everything, is my choice. I’m going home to pack, get everything sorted, then I’ll come back.” Your throat closes up, but you manage to eke out the last words you need to say. “Then I’ll come home, if you’ll have me.”

Jack’s hug is bruising, all-encompassing and breathtaking.

“Sugar, my god, yes, we’ll have you, I want you.” You choke out a laugh into his shoulder, dizzy with the lack of oxygen and the elation of Jack’s embrace. He spins you around, Russell’s faint yips on the edge of your consciousness. When he releases you there’s a moment to take in a breath before Jack’s mouth slots against yours and steals your air again. He cradles your cheeks, pulling away just enough to look at you with wonder before stealing another. The sun feels like it’s at a whole different position in the sky before he relents, tucking you into his chest and letting an enormous sigh empty out.

“I’m sorry it won’t be an easy life with me,” he says, fingertips light on your skin.

“Did I ask for easy?” you tease, inhaling the soap, sweat and sun-baked scent of Jack. “Whatever might come, it’s worth it.”

“I’ll spend my life making sure of that, Sugar.”

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#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x female reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction #westworld fanfiction #prolix fics

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maxellminidisc · 1 year

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Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep: The Sleeper, The Lovers, and Rachael by Donato Giancola, 2009

#donato giancola #do androids dream of electric sheep #phillip k dick #science fiction #sci fi #sci fi art #art

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alleyskywalker · 11 months

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THROBB FORTNIGHT Fic Recs: Days 11-14

Day 11: First Kiss

Hold on to your heart by saltywench / @salty-wench (T, 1k)

A cute fic for a cute trope! This is the good old "your more experienced crush teaches you about kissing and you end up kissing for read." Robb is adorable in this, with all his inexperienced insecurity and you get the sense that Theon knows exactly what he's doing, starting from flirting with girls in front of Robb's salad to begin with.

Day 12: Soulmates AU

Keepsake by ThyCannoli (M, 9k)

This is a brilliantly written and heart-wrenching fic! The Soulmates part is mostly important because it allows Robb and Theon to share dreams and meet even before Theon gets to Winterfell. Told through their meetings in the dreamscape of their dreams, the whimsical and often metaphorical nature of the setting really allows to highlight their feelings and tensions, taking us through the development of their relationship and all it's ups and downs. It's a canon-compliant fic, so the ending is, of course, painful, but also bittersweet in a way that feels nostalgic and fulfilling and cathartic. This is a fic really stayed with me, even though I read it first a pretty long time ago. (Show canon, but with some book-canon elements.)

Day 13: Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers

Android Dreams and Electric Sheep by VagrantWriter (M, 43k)

And now for something rather different… This is a scifi/far future type AU in which Robb repairs high-level, human-like AIs and Theon is…well, an AI. You know, one of those AI/human romance novels? This is it. And, frankly, it's a real page-turner, as most things by VagrantWriter. I admit, I was cautious in picking it up. I'm very into canon-verse and when I read AUs I'm picky about the characters needing to feel like themselves, etc. And then AI romances aren't normally my thing. And yet I'm very happy I gave it a chance, because it's a truly touching short romance novel, that really does go through this entire arch of slow burn to "betrayal" to reunion, and the AI/non-human aspect is handled very well and interestingly. Robb's characterization is very sympathetic and I think the way Theon is handled in these circumstances is original and compelling in its own way.

Day 14: Reunions

i will carry you to freedom by MayWilder (M, 2k)

Robb and Theon's reunion in a No Defection AU where Theon does go to Pyke, but ends up choosing Robb. It's passionate, it's desperate, it's angsty, but also very corny and romantic as well - all the tropes bundled up into one wish-fulfilling concoction. These are always a bit hit or miss for me, because I feel it can be difficult to manage a line where the narrative is not too dismissive or humiliating to Theon. This fic is very romantic and full of desperate loyalty kink, yes, but I also really enjoyed how genuinely appreciative Robb is of Theon's sacrifice and that he understands that he ought to be "worth it" rather than this being something automatically owed him.

#throbbfortnight #throbb #theon x robb #theon greyjoy #robb stark #asoiaf #got #recs #fic recs #op

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monstergirlgang · 8 months

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Curious to see your cool horror women challenge list (it sounds really interesting!!)

Thanks for your interest! The goal for this year is 30 Tarot cards and 1 card cover themed after monster women from literature. All chosen from different stories for variety! Here is what I currently have planned (some to be determined):

The Fool: Amalthea from The Last Unicorn

The Magician: The Evil Queen from Snow White

The High Priestess: The Sphynx from Oedipus

The Empress: Grendel's Mother from Beowulf

The Emperor: Queen Tera from The Jewel of the Seven Stars

The Hierophant: Baba Yaga from Vasilisa the Fair

The Lovers: Carmilla or the brides of Dracula (from either Carmilla or Dracula)

The Chariot: The Mares of Diomedes from the Trials of Hercules

Strength: Beloved from Beloved

Hermit: Shelob from Lord of the Rings

Wheel of Fortune: Life-in-Death from Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Justice: The Furies from The Oresteia

The Hanged Man: The Woman in the Wallpaper from The Yellow Wallpaper

Death: The Bride of Frankenstein from Frankenstein

Temperance: Margarita from The Master and Margarita

The Devil: Sin from Paradise Lost

The Tower: Tamamo no Mae from Tamamo no Soshi

The Star: The Little Mermaid from The Little Mermaid

The Moon: Queen Mab from Romeo and Juliet

The Sun: Scylla and Charybdis from Jason and the Argonauts

Judgement: Queen of Hearts from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

The World: tbd eldritch goddess from H.P. Lovecraft

Queen of Cups: Carrie from Carrie

Ace of Cups: Circe from the Odyssey

Queen of Wands: The Bedlam from Coraline

8 of Wands: Rexy from Jurassic Park

Queen of Swords: Morgana le Fay from The Tales of King Arthur

6 of Swords: La Belle Dame Sans Merci from La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Queen of Pentacles: Princess Ironfan from Monkey: Journey to the West

Ace of Pentacles: Tomie from Tomie

Other female monsters that were considered (and might be back ups if I need new inspiration!): Hel from Norse Mythology, Rachael Rosen from Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, Phantom Helen from Helen, Undine from Undine, Lady Ragnell from Sir Gawain and Lady Ragnell, The Weird Sisters from Macbeth, The Succubus from The Succubus, Christabel from Christabel, Jadis from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, and The Witch in the Stone Boat from Icelandic Folktales.

#inktober #monster girls #art challenge #literature #classical literature #mythology #gothic literature #tarot #tarot cards #monsters #drawtober #artober #creature #classic literature #dark academia #monstergirltober

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loving-jack-kelly · 8 months

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did i dream this or have you read do androids dream of electric sheep. i swear i know someone who has and i THINK its u but i might be wrong

i have no read do androids dream of electric sheep but as a classic sci-fi lover it has been on my list for forever! my current project (I say as if I've started reading the first book yet lol) is the foundation series by Isaac Asimov :)

#my fave writing professor is a sci fi guy and he turned me on to classic sci fi #i've read a Ton of Asimov short stories and I love them which is why I'm starting with foundation as I get more into novels #as opposed to short stories #:)

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orallech · 7 months

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:O ive only ever seen a cropped version of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep; The Lovers (2009) by Donato Giancalo

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literateish · 2 years

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books i’ve read in 2022.

the complete list of the 68 books i read this year.

i set my goal as 52 books to read in 2022 (one book per month) and i’m very happy that i achieved that! in 2021 i read 26 books, which was very impressive for me, so the fact that i’ve read more than twice that this year is incredible.

a quiet kind of thunder by sara barnard

the wife of bath by geoffrey chaucer

the diary of a young girl by anne frank

always by morris gleitzman

crooked kingdom by leigh bardugo

the spanish love deception by elena armas

the ballad of songbirds and snakes by suzanne collins

mary barton by elizabeth gaskell

do androids dream of electric sheep by philip k dick

the lonely londoners by sam selvon

the love hypothesis by ali hazelwood

it ends with us by colleen hoover

one last stop by casey mcquiston

fun home by alison bechdel

the mad women’s ball by victoria mas

ugly love by colleen hoover

twelfth night by william shakespeare

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire saenz

aristotle and dante dive into the waters of the world by benjamin alone saenz

they both die at the end by adam silvera

heartstopper by alice oseman

normal people by sally rooney

one day in the life of ivan denisovich by aleksandr solzhenitsyn

my policeman by bethan roberts

delilah green doesn’t care by ashley herring blake

all your perfects by colleen hoover

confess by colleen hoover

the perks of being a wallflower by stephen chbosky

one true loves by taylor jenkins reid

beach read by emiky henry

red, white, and royal blue by casey mcquiston

call me by your name by andre aciman

humans by matt haig

how to stop time by matt haig

a man called ove by fredrik backman

you and me on vacation by emily henry

find me by andre aciman

still life by sarah winman

a court of thorns and roses by sarah j maas

a court of mist and fury by sarah j maas

a court of wings and ruin by sarah j maas

a court of frost and starlight by sarah j maas

a court of silver flames by sarah j maas

book lovers by emily henry

sorcery of thorns by margaret rogerson

malibu rising by taylor jenkins reid

the poppy war by r. f. kuang

forget me twice by carina taylor

love on the brain by ali hazelwood

finding audrey by sophie kinsella

pride and prejudice by jane austen

felix ever after by kacen callender

ariadne by jennifer saint

cemetery boys by aiden thomas

the hunger games by suzanne collins

mary and the wrongs of woman by mary wollstonecraft

it happened one summer by tessa bailey

oh whistle and i’ll come to you my lad by m. r. james

a room of one’s own by virginia woolf

the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde by robert louis stevenson

the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

dracula by bram stoker

silence of the lambs by thomas harris

northanger abbey by jane austen

frankenstein by mary shelley

story of your life by ted chiang

before i do by sophie cousens

heart of darkness by joseph conrad

#long post #han reads books #booklr

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thebitchkingofangmar · 27 days

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And The Lovers, Do They Dream? - tell me more tell me more

HAHA I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

This one is a canon divergent Dragon Age fic, set in the same universe as O, Audacious Hearts and The Song of Dirthalath, meant to be the stand in for my Inquisitor Arviraven "River" Lavellan.

ATDTD? follows River's becoming of the Prophet of Hope, Vassal of Dirthamen and the romance that blooms as he steps into this version of themself. It is very gothic in tone — Haunting of Hill House and Crimson Peak were huge inspirations for it.

Aside from being a reference to 'Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?', dreams (of any kind) are crucial to the narrative. They represent the dreams of those who came before the characters and how they protect them, they represent ideals and motivations in Arviraven, and, in Dorian's case since he is one of The Lovers, they represent waking up from a previous life you still don't know how to leave.

Here, this is one of my favourite bits from it.

[...] Yet no matter where Dorian went, nor what path he chose, he ended right back where the Arcane Horror stood. The City was cold, he was cold, and wanted to go back to bed. He didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have the energy for this.

Perhaps the only way was through. He approached it, cautiously and serenely, telling himself he was in charge of the situation. When was he not? All he needed was a way out, nothing more. Perhaps, Dorian thought, he didn’t even have to engage it, just walk past and to the other side of the town square. Yes, the Horror was an illusion of his mind, and he’d treat it as such, but another question remained— where was the exit? Maybe if he went to his parents' state he’d find it, even if he didn’t want to go there. Nor now, nor ever again. Either way, to get there he’d have to cross the square. Dorian Pavus could cross a damn square, so he would. He did. Rather successfully he might add. The Horror didn’t move, Dorian didn’t feel it move. He could go. He told himself it was better to be safe than sorry in these situations so without any abrupt movements, he turned his head just back enough to check if it hadn’t turned to follow him. The snow rustled and before Dorian could do anything, the Arcane Horror was lifting him off the ground, grabbing him by his tunics, bringing him face to face with it, bony, mangled, ice-cold fingers grasping with his skin, its maw opening to speak in a shrill voice, clear like metal scraping against metal. Speak the Arcane Horror did: “Beware, Scion of Pavus. Beware the place where the Sky holds.”

#non tolkien #other #asks & other demons

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s1ckinglysweet · 1 year

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Donato Giancola, Do androids Dream of electric Sheep : The Lovers (detail) 2009

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jen-with-a-pen · 2 years

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🎬📺 Share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order 🎮🃏 Then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice)

Hanna you're asking a film and media major this question, let alone a severely indecisive one at that 💀

BUT ILL DO IT!! JUST FOR YOU!!

AIGHT so

Arthur Morgan from RDR2 aka my cowboy husband

Sam Baker from Sixteen Candles

Bucky Barnes (both comic and MCU depictions)

Steve Rogers (comics and MCU depictions)

Ted Mosby from How I Met Your Mother

Mia Thermopolis from the Princess Diaries (and literally any Anne Hathaway character from her 2000s movies)

Julie Andrews from The Princess Diaries (she reminds me so much of my own grandma i cry thinking about it :') )

Issa Avramov in From Bad to Cursed by Lana Harper (currently reading it, such a good new-gen take on the enemies to lovers trope PLUS MAGIC N WITCHES N NECROMANCY)