#threads: deacon.

[survivedsarchived]

@doomdays said: it’s easy to get paranoid when you’re isolated. (deacon + emori)

“i don't think it's paranoia if you've got a valid reason to be cautious.” case in point: the state of the world. too many people looking for a fight, to claim what's yours — or your life. deacon's arms cross together, absentmindedly rubbing the still-bubbled, scarred skin of his forearm, where a tattoo had been, long ago — before it had been burned away.

he sniffs, and he thinks, for a moment, that he can smell burning flesh.

his expression flattens to a grimace as he glances towards emori, mindful of her son, not so far away. his presence reigns in some of the irritation deacon feels brewing in his chest, exhaled harshly through flaring nostrils before he shakes his head dismissively, hands unclasping, knuckles rapping against wood as they rest against the table. “—whatever. i come to check on you, let you know what's going on 'round here, and you're gonna lecture me as thanks?” deacon manages a half-hearted tone, light and teasing, but the creases around his eyes betray his concern. “maybe you're right. maybe i didn't really see anyone out there. but, just in case i did... maybe you should let me stay the night.” not that he doesn't think she couldn't handle it herself, if it'd come to a fight — but the sun's getting low, and he'd be looking for a place soon, anyway. “if it's okay with you and the kid.”

#my new best friends #doomdays #deacon. #threads: deacon.

[firewvlk]

Look who just woke up- is that SAM WITWER? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s DEACON ST. JOHN from DAYS GONE. I heard he is 35 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a CYNICAL MERC, MOTORCYCLE ENTHUSIAST, AND EX-SOLDIER impression. They’re known to be quite LOYAL, but have a tendency to be ALOOF on their bad days.

gender/pronouns:

cismale & he/him

how long have they been in sydney:

real time: 3 years

fake time: about 5 years

which suburb do they live in:

balmain

personality description:

deek’s been through a lot of trauma thanks to his time in war & living through the apocalypse certainly hasn’t helped. he has a grim, cynical way of looking at things, but can still be lighthearted with the people he cares about. he has a very sarcastic sense of humor and a hard time taking orders from others, something that followed even in his army career. it takes him time to warm up to people, but once he cares for someone, he’ll do anything for them.

memories of their real life:

former member of the army that served in afghanistan, he was an honorable solider but hated every min of it. he was discharged after being the surviving member among his squad after a crash. he tried to save the others, but they were already gone, it’s something that still haunts him.

after that, he came home, bought a motorcycle & drifted around for a few years before getting a job as a mechanic & joined up with the mongrels motorcycle club as an enforcer. that’s where he met his closest friend turned brother, boozer, & became good friends with another member named jersey jim.

after numerous years with them, he met & later married sarah, who he went nomad for, which upset just about every brother he had in the club aside from boozer.

he was in farewell, oregon with boozer & sarah when the outbreak hit, & long story short, they managed to get an injured sarah out on a chopper while the boys fight their way to the camp she was taken to. they found it overrun by freakers (infected people/zombies), leading deacon to believe sarah was killed.

 the virus took over, resulting in complete societal collapse & left few humans alive. deek & boozer adapted to the new world & worked as bounty hunters.

& essentially after finding hope that sarah’s still alive, he goes on a wild chase to find her, only to find out her work/the people she worked for created the virus & they’re mutating it to create new basically “super” people.

in the end he managed to get sarah back, but the world had still gone to hell so y’know.

what was their fake life like:

tba after plotting

#threads: deacon. #thebridge: intro #deacon st. john intro.

[aquamanandfriends]

Not Tonight [Brick/Lena]

@wctchit moved to beta post from [x]

"I'm serious," he shook his head fighting a smile, she was infectious. His usual gig before he rode of with the Vagabonds was as a club bouncer, so when they were in one place long enough he'd try and get a few nights of pay at a local place. "You need to take it easy. The fun you wanna have at the club tonight, especially after what you pulled last time, will just get you hurt."

#th: not tonight #【 brock deacon ❖ thread 】 #wctchit

[devouredher]

@wantcn cont. from here

Anna watched helplessly as her grandmother left the room without a single glance her way. She knew that the older woman had nothing to say in the matter of who became Deacon's next toy - the man had a right to choose and it was just his decision who it would be. But it would still be some kind of support if the woman offered an ounce of civility towards Anna. Instead, her grandmother pretended that she didn't even exist whenever she was being played with by Deacon. As if suddenly turned invisible. The brunette nodded her head in acknowledgement of his words, suddenly pried away from her musings about her grandmother and now once more focused on everything that was happening around her. TO HER. Anna whimpered quietly as the milking machine did not release its suction on her tenderly sore nipples, sucking on every last droplet of milk that her body produced until it'd be turned off, which did not seem to be approaching any time soon. The woman no longer put any mind to the toy in her ass, at this point already stretched and used to the constant gape of her tight and delicate hole, instead it was her pussy that was bothering her the most at the moment. The dildo sliding in and out of her, slick from Deacon's cum and Anna's juices. "Yes, grandpa." Anna nodded her head, trying to focus on what the man was telling her while all those things happened at once. "Where would you like to piss?" The brunette asked, the way she was taught to ask, offering the choice for the man to decide if he wanted her to drink it, paint her with the warm liquid or have her take it in her holes.

he figured he could have a break from his work. it has been a few hours since he has fucked anna. while she was nothing but a hole to him, he does care about his granddaughter. she was the most important person in his life. and he wanted to keep her satisfied, even if her only purpose in life was to be degraded in every way possible and to give him his future children. it has taken a few years for him to be able to get back to working after he started using anna's body. the first two years, he stepped back from his position at his complany because he had been so occupied at finally being able to fuck her that he never wanted to stop. but he eventually had to go back to work. though, he kept anna close by bringing her to work everyday with him. "you truly are the best slut out there, aren't you baby? how did grandpa get so lucky?" he let out a deep chuckle as he stood up from his chair. he positioned himself behind her, pushing her forward on the rocking chair she sat on. "think i'll use your ass for today." he roughly grabbed at her plump cheeks, squeezing it before giving her a harsh slap. "after we'll keep it all plugged up so you can feel even fuller. how's that sound, baby?" not like she had any other choice on the matter. deacon positioned his cock inches from the tunnel butt plug in her ass before shoving the tip inside. he cupped her face from behind, forcing her face to look back at him. "say thank you to grandpa for pissing in your ass." the smile on his face was never genuine in nature. always sinister even if he doesn't try. just like the times before, he didn't wait for her permission. he simply filled her up to the brim. a satisfied groan in his lips.

#wantcn #* thread: deacon #* deacon & anna

[roastyoualive]

SONG: THREE DAYS GRACE - RIGHT LEFT WRONG

“I’m fine.” He says it without looking up. He doesn’t look up, but that’s mostly because he’s still staring at his book. It’s a good one. He's read it before, but it still holds his interest. … Especially when the alternative is talking about his own wellbeing.

Despite his insistence, he's clearly not fine. Shoulders tense, jaw tight. The smell of smoke clings to him like a second skin. He's not burning now - but he had been recently. And he's also not at home, or at the library. He's here. That should tell them all enough already.

"I'm just waiting for Jewel." He looks up, then, but keeps the book open. "You know when she'll be back?"

FOR DEACON - @drkroots

#&& light it up; ic #&& through being cool; movie verse #&& the tough guy table; threads #drkroots #drkroots - deacon

[nycterent]

@theodoredeacon

he wasn't the one who put deacon in arkham. that was the gcpd, all but he saw the headlines. he read the articles. because that's the kind of thing he keeps track of, when the narrows spits out another person trying to claw their way up the ladder of gotham's organized crime. maybe that says more about the city than anything else—how many people end up on that cutthroat path because it's better than the other options.

still. the escape from arkham and back into gotham's streets is almost rote by now. expected. even something like maximum security feels more like a formality, and there was no real shock when he saw the report.

he's not looking for deacon tonight. that's not his goal. but, as they say: two birds—owls, even, he thinks to himself, with what he's been tracking, a pattern of activity that is meaningless but will one day resolve into a shape, as it always does—and one stone.

"they should've put you in blackgate," bruce says simply, still and steady just outside of the streetlamp's reach. always ready to move. betraying none of it.

#i simply know bruce looked at deacon's file and shit and was like lmao? arkham? lol? #theodoredeacon #thread.

[ameliaxleon]

Location: Cadillac Lounge Who: Amelia Leon & @deaconferro​ What: Amelia runs into Deacon after 15 years and she’s pissed. He abandoned her and she wasn’t going to pretend it was all good and fine.

It wasn’t often that Amelia was caught off guard - not really. She was a smart and observant girl - prepared for almost anything. Chingona y cabrona is what her mom used to say. The only times she had been really caught off guard were far and few. 

Her parents’ deportation

The day she found herself with blood on her hands and on the run while her best friend took the fall for her. 

But as Amelia Leon came back to the Cadillac bar after her break and her eyes landed on Deacon Ferro, she didn’t know whether she wanted to run and hug the man or kick his ass all the way to Sunday. He aged - not badly, but it was noticeable. His face was more defined, shoulders broader. He was bigger than she remembered. The once kind eyes seemed hallowed - haunted by stories that seemed to be to dark for this life. 

This man had become her brother - the one she never got to have. They had been each other’s support system and when Deacon was rejected by his own father, her family had taken him in. How many days had he spent helping her dad with the fishing business? Or countless dinners while her mother tried - and failed- to teach him Spanish? Amelia still remember the laughs when she tried to teach him how to salsa and the boy had no rhythm at all. 

More so - she remember how he became her crutch when her parents were deported.

And then he had left too - without a word.  Not one in fifteen years. 

Fuck, he didn’t even know how sick her father was. He knew nothing because Deacon wasn’t a brother any more - he was an asshole and a complete stranger. 

And he was seated in her section of the bar. Meirda. 

Collecting her bearings, Mel straightened her back and went back to the bar. “What are you drinking?” She asked coolly, not bothering to give him a glance. He wanted to be stranger - then she’d treat him as such. “We have no specials tonight - ran out.”

#WELP this was a novel #deaconferro #thread: deacon

[dannyxwhitechapel]

Location: Hidehill History Museum Who: Julia Escarra & @deaconferro​ When: Saturday mid-day after the vigil What: Julia is desperate for clues, and if this is the Shadow starting again, then maybe this museum honoring the last victims would give her some insight. 

It had seem like a good idea at the time, but now, as Julia wandered the halls of the History Museum, the whole ordeal made her sick to her stomach. The museum had been created years ago, as a way to honor the fifteen victims of the original murder spree of the 1970′s. But while the halls served as a comfort to many families, her grandma had been one of them, right now, it just made Julia sick. 

If this was the Shadow again, Jade would be in here soon. She would be part of this story. The thought sent her running to the nearest trash bin as she empty her stomach - not that she had even eaten much in the last three days. As he regained her composure, Julia used the bin to steady herself. This museum had been a hope to get some clues or answers to what could be coming next. But right now, it was offering no comfort. She inhaled deeply, eyes closed and tried to focus on just settling her stomach. In her own little world, she failed to hear the footfalls of another approaching. 

#thread: deacon #deaconferro

[heavenstrck]

open to : m / f / nb ! male only if romantically !

plot : lettie is a female boxer and while won her fight got hit real hard and is far too relaxed about bleeding everywhere !

“ it’s not broken , chill ! “ her nose is still dripping blood , the stream only stifled by the bundle of gauze she’s holding tightly over the certain to bruise bone . “ it does fucking hurt though . “ she’s broken it once or twice , knows what that feels like and this isn’t even a quarter of that but it’s irritating nonetheless . “ do you have any ice ? “

#indie rp #open starter #threads : lettie deacon

[vanescos]

LOCATION: EXPOSÉ hq offices; financial district TIME: Morning STATUS: Closed → Yanmei / Deacon ( @nightcrwlers​​ )

Yanmei strode over to Deacon’s cubicle. Yes, cubicles were still in use there rather than the open-floor plan offices that so many tried to utilize in some foolish attempt at encouraging camaraderie and relaxation. Employees didn’t come to EXPOSÉ to relax, they came there to write damning articles that would ruin entire reputations and careers of those caught in their cross-hairs. They came there to expose the rot and corruption and crime that infested the city, sometimes beyond, as the two went hand in hand after all. The office was built for productivity and the production of stories, not relaxation and lowkey vibes.

She stared down at him with dark hawk-like eyes and dropped a folder that hit the edge of his desk with a sharp slap. “This is your new story. You’re taking too long with the other one and I’ve given you ample time to produce something groundbreaking on it.”

There was no room in her tone to interpret that she was up for negotiation or further discussion. Yanmei never was. “I’ve already started the work so it should be of no challenge to you to do the rest. The notes are in there.”

#thread: yanmei yin #yanmei x deacon

[survivedsarchived]

@doomdays i’m happy to help. (aaron + deacon)

“yeah, i think i'm good.” a watery stream of blood dribbles from his nose, words strained through pained breaths, chest heaving as deacon lifts his bike: slow and unsteady in its initial ascent, a hard sigh of relief coughed up once it's righted. it's far from his first crash, further from the worst — a stretch of road not as littered with the husks of long-dead cars, where he could catch some more speed, and perhaps he wouldn't be able to stand so quickly.

another hacking cough produces some more blood, spat out on the asphalt before deacon glances upward, eyes narrowed in a glare; not at aaron, but just beyond him, centered on the freak that'd prompted him to swerve — splayed out on the road, little more than a head and torso, its legs crushed to hell.

by a car, he presumes.

“bastard wasn't here last time i came through.” hands still cling to the bike's grips, deacon resting himself against the frame — breaths slowly coming easier, but not without pain, sharp and deep. a fractured rib, maybe. deacon's had enough in the past that he feels comfortable diagnosing it.

“you following me?” he turns his attention on aaron suddenly, grimacing. “you really that committed to the whole welcome wagon shit?”

#no i don't know what i'm doing <3 thank you #skfnkjnddsk sorry to aaron for deacon being The Worst #doomdays #deacon. #threads: deacon.

[firewvlk]

@apotelesma-rp​ (for any muse)

❝ don’t think i’ll ever get used to seeing kids just being kids here. ❞ deek grumbled mostly to himself. he was fortunate, or maybe, unfortunate enough to remember the world before it all went to shit. things had never been all that great, but there was bad and then there was really bad. ❝ where i’m from, most of them became infected by a virus. they’d crawl around like animals and jump on ya outta nowhere, creepy little shits. ❞ he’d come across a few uninfected kids like lisa over the years, but not many. it was times like those he was glad he and sarah never had kids, losing her had been hard enough.

#threads: deacon. #apotelesma-rp

[devouredher]

@hxtties​ cont. from here

she’s not even entirely sure they’re comfortable with talia being a stripper. can you believe what their reaction would be if they found out the two of them had been fucking?! it would have been less awkward if he’d showed up at her job, wanting her to shake her ass for him! and yet, there she was, melting into his touch as he cupped one of those huge tits of hers. she could already feel her nipples harden in arousal, her pussy dripping. she looked around, fighting back a whimper as she worked her hips, lifting her feet upward. albeit with a little bit of hesitation on her part.

finding out that his granddaughter worked as a stripper had been a blessing. he finally had a reason to look at her, fantasize about her, without being the perverted old man. even though he is one. a sick one too considering their relationship. the night he surprised her at her club had been the same night he had her bouncing on his cock after paying for an hour private lap dance. he made sure to get his money's worth while. "such a dirty little slut for not wearing any underwear." he whispered next to her as his two fingers parted her pussy lips. "look at that pretty pink cunt. so wet already.. but i think i can be wetter." he looked up for a moment, making sure everyone in the van were still busy before lowering his head down in between her legs, spitting directly at her exposed heat. "mm, so much better for grandpa." he inhaled at her scent, admiring the way his saliva dripped down her slit before he started licking at her clit.

#hxtties #* thread: deacon #* deacon & talia #had to move this on beta post!

[aquamanandfriends]

❛ people like us don’t get to decide when we’re done. ❜ -Lena to any Vagabond

Brick paused, he just felt like giving up but she was right. "It's... it's embarrassing." He confessed, "I don't... I don't think I know why I'm here anymore. If she's... She doesn't love me and if that's true? What do I do? I'm the odd man out, everyone will chose her." Brick shook his head. "Sugar's not my girl and... I don't know what I am now..."

#【 thats disarming ❖ asks 】 #【 then why you ask ❖ anonymous 】 #【 brock deacon ❖ thread 】

[atcmbmb]

❛  i think you’re very special.  ❜ (Deacon! What does he mean by this? The mystery to figure out)

(accepting) the blacklist prompts:

            THAT'S USUALLY NOT A GOOD SIGN. Leonie's raised eyebrow is sharp with suspicion, a question as to how exactly he meant those words in the arch. Of course, there's also the immediate impulse to reject the notion regardless of intention: she's not special, what happened to her is, and it's an event she doesn't particularly like sharing. "You're mistaken, then. I'm as dull as a butter knife."

Truly, she thinks Deacon could be guilty of his own words sooner than she, given that ever-lingering hint of mystery around him. There's something illusive about the man, something she can't put her finger on yet neither feels inclined to pry into. Instead, Leonie reconnects their eye contact, a hint of a joke in her tone: "You looking for a muse?"

#nobody ever knows what deacon means and we simply have to accept that #ty for this!! feel free to turn into a thread if u want #𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙑𝙀𝘿 𝘼𝙎 ﹕ ❝ termlink. ❞ #𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙑𝙀𝘿 𝘼𝙎 ﹕ ❝ communications. ❞ #neondistrxt #𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ﹕ ❝ the commonwealth | fallout 4. ❞

[courier2lw]

@from-across-the-stars​ sent from Deacon, my beloved...

"Can I buy you a drink?" 

It had been a while since West heard that voice. A long while. Enough time had passed that West realized just how much he missed his friend, Deacon, mysterious and secretive and that West didn’t really hold any of that against him, but... he wanted to know more. He wanted to tell Deacon things he was afraid of telling anyone else. He wanted deacon to do the same. He wanted to trust him. More. Because he did. But it seemed to hard to explain.

Love was funny like that.

“You got a lot of nerve,” West didn’t sound angry, even though he was hoping to prank Deacon a bit. Pretending like he was mad with him for being gone for so long. But he could barely manage. He was genuinely thrilled to see him. He hadn’t felt his heart jump like that, just at the sound of a voice, in such a long time.

“You know friends keep in touch, right?”

The last time they’d met up West had realized things. When they’d kissed, he realized even more. He hadn’t said those things then, how much he didn’t want Deacon just to disappear again, how he wanted him to stick around... It seemed like too much at the time. It seemed unfair. Deacon had a crazy important job. A job that, judging from West’s seat at the Third Rail now, the courier seemed to want to get more involved in.

#fromacrossthestars #from-across-the-stars #buy you a drink: deacon #Headcanoning they actually do eventually kiss in that thread <3 which we def should continue