omg someone reblogged my deacon post and said he’s a horrible liar and i could not agree more!!!
especially i think after he gets comfortable with someone truly and deeply, and he lies about something and because the SoleSurvivor is like his closest companion (the love of his life perhaps) they know he’s lying. and they stare at him, and he stares back blankly, then his mouth starts to twitch, forcing back a smile. his eyes will flick away from theirs and he’ll quickly turn around and walk away as he tries to pull it together and Sole is left laughing at how ridiculous he is.
i also imagine that’s why he’s so paranoid about giving you his “reset code” bc he set up a great lie (not really lol) and now he’s scared that Sole is gonna think he’s a complete ass for lying about that when it’s meant to be a test and a joke. I personally haven’t read it in my play though so he’s always coming up to me asking frantically if i’ve read it and my Sole just looks at him with the most amused look bc he KNOWS deacon is full of shit, so he doesn’t even bother to read the code.
He’s also a bad liar because he just goes too hard on the details and everyone can tell when he’s starting to make things up. it’s less lying and more, embellishments, at least that’s how he likes to look at it. When he talks about Sole though, oh my god the other members of the railroad can’t tell if he’s being funny or if he’s truly in love with this person. the way he tells tales of their heroism, saving his life and wiping out thousands of synths and raiders, just sweeping him out of harms way.
this is of course only when Sole is not around. and if anyone slips out word about deacon’s damsel in distress stories, he’d deny it until his last breath. red in the face and unable to meet their eyes when they ask with a teasing tone, a flat “No.” drops out of him before he scatters to find who the hell told Sole about that.
so yeah, deacon truly is more himself than he ever means to be and i love that loser so much <3
I used to be under the impression that if Taka felt like he was cornered he would absolutely fight his way out but now I'm not sure if he has it in him to hit anyone outside of sparring. I kind of just think even though he could thrash the majority of people in a fight, he would rather take a punch than risk breaking a school rule and defend himself. And even then he would probably apologize profusely if he thought he had hurt someone, even if he hadn't.
Also, I don't know if this is controversial but I think he came into Hope's Peak completely unwilling to spar with a girl. It was only when he met and sparred with Sakura, Hina, Akane, Mukuro, etc in gym class and after school activities that he had the realization "oh, wait, women aren't actually that fragile and I can fight them in a controlled environment without breaking them" after he was beaten in many many sparring matches.
Even then, he only agreed to spar with them after so much convincing that it nearly didn't happen. And he did it gently and had watering eyes if he so much as tapped them too aggressively. By the end of the year he knew the score and fought them as equals. In fact, he really enjoys fighting Sakura, in the same way he enjoys challenging Celeste's luck by playing board games with her. If anything by the end of the school year he's more gung ho about fighting the girls than the other boys in the class.
I don't know if it's a mentality given to him by his grandfather, his moral compass being skewed in the slightly wrong direction, the fact he's scared he might be accused of something if he touches them, or the fact he never interacted with a girl in depth before Hope's Peak, but this HC basically boils down to he drank too much respect women juice and accidentally became patronisingly sexist until he had it (affectionately) beaten out of him by powerful women.
ah, ishimondo stage play execution, my beloved
Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Zombie setting where the undead are drawn towards unhygienic scents, so survivors constantly bathe to avoid being eaten.
Zombies are docile when adorned with flowers.
Settlements overgrown with herbs and flora.
Barely any banditry; everyone is focused on farming and gathering.
Different human factions and towns named after flowers like Lilies, Orchids, Roses, etc.
Instead of immediately killing an infected survivor, they’re given special funeral rites - the zombie is covered with flowers to keep them calm, and allowed to walk out from the settlement to join the hordes.
„Thank you for, uh, not giving up on me. Just, thank you.“
WILLPOWER UNION BELIEVERS WHERE ARE YOU?!
[RESOUNDING SILENCE]
So… what if no one can die in danganronpa?
I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).
I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense.
That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it.
And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit.
And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims?
Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.
Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing?
And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased?
Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.
He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own.
Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends.
Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.
You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust.
And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.
Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.
Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.
Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.
....someone volunteering to be the first one to eat your pussy...
I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!
It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.
But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.
Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.
Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!
But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.
And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.
“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.
“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.
But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”
You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.
“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.
Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.
“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”
“You think I'm funny, my love.”
“It also isn't as full of itself.”
A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.
“My heart, you hurt me.”
“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”
The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”
“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”
A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.
“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.
But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.
After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-
“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”
You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.
There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.
“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”
“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”
“Ah, so you agree with that too.”
You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.
Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.
“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.
Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.
As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.
With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.
And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.
When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.
With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.
“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.
Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.
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i will write everything. original work, fan fictions, fan art, advice, whatever. | 22 | Sky/Oak/Echo | he/they | 18+ Only author of And It Starts Again
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