#i'm extremely hampered without it and not being able to know if it was going to crash in the middle of paying a bill or something

[ageless-aislynn]

Friends, my time has come.

I mean, it's a shame there's no option for "you sold me a computer infested with demons and basically your idea of tech support is 'Wow, sucks to be you'" but I made do with what I had. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[itsnothingofinterest]

I think that the LoV deserves to win in the Final War because if they win, they will be able to create a world for themselves. The Heroes never meant to deserve to win at all considering the fact that most of them are morally corrupted (like the HPSC) and they are more interesting when they lose all the time.

If Spinner were able to win against Shoji, that would prove that his point will be always right and he would be able to save Shigaraki. If Toya succeeded, it would be the punishment that Endeavor deserves for abandoning his eldest son. If Toga succeeded, she would be able to do anything she wants. If Tomura Shigaraki wins against Deku and destroys Deku along with the entire Hero Society, Tomura Shigaraki would be able to have peace with his friends.

If I may be allowed the opportunity to rant: I'm sure some will say this is crazy at this juncture of the story but honestly? I get where you're coming from. Or at least 90% of it.

I mean for starters, I sympathize with the League far more than the heroes (no surprise from a villain fan). I think they’ve earned the happy endings they want after how hard they’ve struggled against the towering odds they’ve faced, an area which I feel they far surpass the heroes. I want them to win, I want them to prove the strength of their bonds, all that fun stuff for them.

And just logically, if you look at the worlds both sides are trying to make…the villain's world kinda seems better? Because after all, isn’t the plan to just take the current world, tear it down, and rebuild it without a whole bunch of its glaring flaws? The easy world Toga wants where kids like her don’t fear for their lives. Where corrupt heroes like Endeavor and bigots like the CRC aren’t left to their crimes. In a warped way, they’re almost like young All Might.

Compare that to the status quo the heroes want back, the very one that brought us here, which I don’t see much reason to root for. I mean even if you say “but all the people who’ve died”; first off, I swear mha civilians frequently act like horror movie victims so I can only care so much for them. But if I did, they want back the very status quo that led to all that death in the first place so…it feels like it’ll just lead back here again. A return of the status quo? This chaos is part of the status quo by now, you sure you want it back?

(Granted this is all hampered a little bit by Shigaraki’s sudden decision to sink the country and really where did that come from? Did Tomura just say that to appear more inhuman? Did Hori make him say that to appear more threatening? Because that kind of interferes with a lot of the League’s goals y’know. Sure he doesn’t want to give the status quo loving heroes a chance to rebuild what he destroyed, but society still needs replacing as part of the plan. The PLF are still supposed to rebuild according to their desires. I may make a post about just this plot point soon.)

Not to mention that I totally get what you mean about the heroes not narratively earning a permanent win here. Not only have they as a whole not really developed and surpassed their old flaws, but just the fact that they’ve been doing their own war crimes in this arc (when you’re really supposed to stick to your morals and beat villains by the book against make-the-world-better-by-extreme-measures-type villains) really makes me think they just don't deserve the win because they kind of can’t be trusted going forward. I mean the final arc's supposed to show where everyone is ending up; how they'll be in the future. And the impression being left is that the heroes, even the kids to enough of an extent to worry, have shown the same corruption we know the HPSC for.

About the only thing I disagree with out on is that I don’t want Deku specifically to die. He can be, to put bluntly, a self-righteous moron about things he doesn't understand at times, and can be a bit of an AM clone a lot of the rest of the time; but I'd hardly wish his death for just that. Especially since it seems any hope for the heroes side not repeating their mistakes rests on him pulling his head out of his arse and getting a clue on how to be better than All Might. Not that I think that'll happen anytime soon, but that's why I keep insistently hoping for an MHA part 2.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Sorry I took so long with this. Mix of being busy with real life and being in a writing funk. Which is why this may not be my finest post either. Hope you understand.)

[birdofmay]

Hihi, i just found out i got diagnosed with autism as 2 year old. So, i'm going to get reassesed for my autism level, or whatever, so i'm anxious for the assesment. I don't know what would be the telltale signs of being higher support needs, but i'd really love to remain low support needs/level 1 if that's possible. Thanks for reading.

I won't mind if you can't really answer it, i know you don't know everything and that's okay! You're just a super great and educational blog, so i asked this because you seem like an expert.

-Blake

I don't think there are specific telltale signs for Level 2, but, regarding the "social communication" part, most Level 2s I've met online have a very monotone/odd voice and "strange" facial expression/body language they just can't hide.

Remember that autism levels aren't the same as support needs, support needs are about IADLs and BADLs, and the DSM-5 doesn't ask if you need help in the bathroom to assign you a level. The DSM-5 talks about "supports", but these supports aren't about IADLs and BADLs (most of the time).

In case you haven't seen it, this is from my "Autism level and support needs" masterpost:

"Level 1:

Social Communication:

Without supports in place, deficits in social communication cause noticeable impairments. Difficulty initiating social interactions, and clear examples of atypical or unsuccessful response to social overtures of others. May appear to have decreased interest in social interactions. For example, a person who is able to speak in full sentences and engages in communication but whose to-and-fro conversation with others fails, and whose attempts to make friends are odd and typically unsuccessful.

Restricted Interests & Repetitive Behaviors:

Inflexibility of behavior causes significant interference with functioning in one or more contexts. Difficulty switching between activities. Problems of organization and planning hamper independence.

Level 2:

Social Communication:

Marked deficits in verbal and nonverbal social communication skills; social impairments apparent even with supports in place; limited initiation of social interactions; and reduced or abnormal response to social overtures from others. For example, a person who speaks simple sentences, whose interaction is limited to narrow special interest, and who has markedly odd nonverbal communication.

Restricted Interests & Repetitive Behaviors:

Inflexibility of behavior, difficulty coping with change, or other restricted/ repetitive behaviors appear frequently enough to be obvious to the casual observer and interfere with functioning in a variety of contexts. Distress and/or difficulty changing focus or action.

Level 3:

Social Communication:

Severe deficits in verbal and nonverbal social communication skills cause severe impairments in functioning, very limited initiation of social interactions, and minimal response to social overtures from others. For example, a person with few words of intelligible speech who rarely initiates interaction and, when he or she does, makes unusual approaches to meet needs only and responds to only very direct social approaches.

Restricted Interests & Repetitive Behaviors:

Inflexibility of behavior, extreme difficulty coping with change, or other restricted/repetitive behaviors markedly interfere with functioning in all spheres. Great distress/difficulty changing focus or action."

[chocolate-failure]

Man, shit would be so much more comfortable if I didn't have to have a strong series of thoughts and emotions about any one given experience 😕 extremely ghetto. So I'll try to be concise but I feel kinda horrible and the more I think about it the more reasons I find to feel bad so maybe I should stop thinking about it but I can't and I hate myself for not being able to let go.

I went to a concert. I had a few friends who came to visit expressly for this event and I hosted it at my parents'. Cool, so the weekend before I did shrooms with my bff and while it was nice I, of course, had a lot of mfkn thoughts about it. A lot of self hatred and negative criticalness... Idk I don't like myself and while that shouldn't come as a surprise I didn't realize the extent to which I obssess over shit that doesn't fucking matter. But hanging out with this friend made me feel like hanging out with my other friends would be a cakewalk promptly forgetting that ✨this✨ friend is both intimately understanding of my personality and also a friend who exercises an astounding amount of reciprocity. These friends aren't quite the same, well one is but the other two ate just varying degrees unhelpful which just stresses me out. I gained 6lbs over this, what, 2½ day stent?

So let me attempt to set the stage for this endeavor because I feel like there is an impossible amount of context to lay out but also this could definitely be understood without it.

I'm into kpop, over the years I've made friends due to our mutual love of kpop. Some of these friends are pretty chill while others are not so much while yet more are a bit too chill. The friends I've invited into my home for this weekend are as follows ((may be subject to change cuz I'm coming up with these names on the fly) as a matter of fact I'm really not in the mood to come up with names and trying to think of them is just holding up the story. I'll just call them 5, 6, and 7.

5 is probably the person I know the most and like the most, which is always a feat because the more I know someone the less I tend to like them. They are very insightful, thoughtful, and kind. You can tell they're an introvert but in many ways have been beaten into submission by life and toxic relationships. 5 is overall a great person but has quite a few neuroses that very much blind them from seeing their inherent worth and how valuable they are to the people who's lives they enrich. Coincidentally they are also legally blind which has hampered them living a fulfilling and independent life not only because of the disability but because of their family being less than supportive and fostering some wicked codependency.

6, I don't know so well but all that I've seen so far I'm not impressed with. She is older than me but seems to have far less of a grip on adulthood than I had as a kid. I think the reason this is is because she is a taker. I don't necessarily think she's lazy but she wants to always do the minimum, cut the most corners but receive the maximum. To me that is the definition of lazy weather you're working or not if you expect to get more than what you put in you're abusing the system in some way. Either you're taking from someone else or you're not giving your fair share which is tantamount to taking from someone else. She's aware that what she's doing is underhanded and taking advantage of a relationship but she rather have what she wants over upholding any semblance of integrity. I have people in my family who are just like her. They're the type of people to get invited to a potluck be asked to bring a dish and they arrive with paper plates or something they bought from dollar tree. They're only happy with a deal if they feel like they're ahead of you in some way and will make any given process a living hell by never shutting up about how put out they're feeling. That being said, I don't like her. I thought initially I disliked her attitude cuz just hearing her voice pissed me tf off but I think it's just her. She just doesn't give much to the relationship I have with her and I'd be better off not knowing her.

7 is new to the group. Well new to the people who have hung out irl. I've hung out with her one time before and enjoyed myself but she wasn't staying at my house. She's definitely an extravert and doesn't so much collect introverts as she attracts them. She has a very inviting and boisterous personality without being too overbearing, pushy, or loud. She's nice to be around for events but I think day to day I'm not a fan. In my home we are very giving and extremely hospitable but we also expect guests to have some fucking decorum. Like we're not going to ask you to clean the toilets or some shit but if someone is making you a meal you should participate in the preparation whether it's reading the recipe or gathering ingredients or helping to clean. After all I'm housing you on my own dime so that you won't have to pay for a hotel. I'm preparing a recipe you found online because I'm a good cook and you'd like for me to do it for you. I bought the ingredients and got all the shit ready and asked for help cooking as I needed to finish up and get in the bath because the stress of this event is causing my autoimmune disease to flare up. I'm not going to just drop everything and not do it cuz I'm not a child but I asked for help and received none. It very much felt like my childhood home was being treated like a resort rather than idk my fucking house. It's kinda shitty to act like you're on vacation at someone's house when that person is also trying to a nice time but can't because you've decided you're fun is more important than their physical health. Like could you not still have fun and also have helped so that I could treat my fucking disease??? She and 6 talked, watched vids, and otherwise made themselves unavailable until it was time to eat. 6 would later say she felt like she'd get in the way. That is one thing about 7 that it better than 6, she at least knows how to hold a conversation without complaining in every other sentence so she's a good deal more palatable even though the outcome was the same.

That's one thing I definitely inherited from my parents that's a bit of a double edged sword, being kind and generous is all well and good until you run into people who are either looking to take advantage of you or don't understand that they are, 6 being the former and 7 the later.

Safe to say with just those circumstances in place this weekend was going to be a drain. Nevermind the concert we attended and litany of emotional baggage and mental traumas tied up in the experience of self expression, self disclosure and fandom. This was overall an uncomfortable and exhausting experience.

If you've been here for any period of time you'll know that I'm rather feminine looking both in physical features and presentation. While I feel like my literary voice isn't necessarily all that feminine I hold no delusions that I don't look like an afab person though I suppose that's not entirely true because a non-negligible number of people have assumed I'm a transwoman. And while I'm not always thrilled with the fact it certainly is not lost to me that to many I am rather okay to look at. Maybe not pretty in the conventional sense but Tumblr has never been a place to be conventional and even still I do possess many of the features commonly thought of as pretty. I don't say this to be concieted or self important but to outline an experience that is common for me and known to those who find themselves reading this. I am not unattractive but something that may be lost to those who frequent this blog is how tall I actually am. I am tall for an afab person and almost short for an amab person, probably p close to the average international height for males. I'm 5'8 (173cm) and that's never been a big deal to me, like at all. I've always kind of enjoyed my height and would actually lament wanting to be taller. I would've been happy to be 5'10 but this day was the first in a very long time where I wished only to be small.

In kpop the average listed height is probably 5'10 though that is most certainly a lie. I've always been a rather saunch supporter of shorter men, I think a part of me felt us to be kindred spirits, growing up as a tall girl I thought that short men were both genuinely attractive in a way I find hard to articulate but also just generally strong to exist in a world where their worth is heavily weighted on an attribute they have 0 control over.

Honestly I've always loved short men and tall women for their fortitude but their also just fucking beautiful. I never really considered myself a man or a woman more like some kind of weird gremlin creature pretending to be a person and perhaps I had grown too comfortable in thinking I was a passable human being because holy hell did I let the gremlin come out. And maybe it's just a product of neurodivergence but the way I acted caused me so much distress I'd rather avoid having it happen again than try immersing myself in the experience again. I'm trying not to be dramatic but I feel so goddamn horrible about myself atm this isn't an exaggeration. Did I have a bad time? No. Did I have a good one? Also no. I've always enjoyed music but I think I may hate myself more than I love music and that is a sobering realization to come to.

It started with the fansign. I didn't know there was going to be one until it started and I was sharing air with these beautiful strangers that I know so much and absolutely nothing about. It's a spiralling dichotomy that I don't have a hard time reconciling myself with until I'm in the same room with these people. And I can't be a fan, there's no room for it in between racked breaths and racing thoughts. I'm just a fucking gobo trying so desperately not to give away the fact that I am in fact subhuman scum perpetuating an elaborate fraud, for what? To feel what it feels to be a girl? To enjoy the spoils of fandom? To meet my heroes? I don't even know these people and I'm expected to know what to say to them? And they're expected to tell me I'm pretty and then what? What's that suppose to do? Make me feel like I matter? To them?? What's the fucking point of any of this? And I'm surrounded by these excited screeching girls who are over the moon that he looks at her, of all people, held her hand, said she was so beautiful. What tf is this??? Is this what people do? Is this what joy looks like? I don't think joy comes in a form I'm equipped to consume and if that's what it looks like I don't want it.

I was just felt ridiculous, all dolled up in the corset I spent the better part of a month working to fit into because of course I need to lose weight and it's been the only thing I can think about for the past 10 months (10 years if I'm being honest) but apparently this was enough to strengthen my resolve. Idk, It just rings hollow to me. But maybe it's because I'm hollow. I'd like to think of myself as the thoughtful one out of my friends but maybe I'm just the cynical one. All these insights and disclosures seem to be at the expense of my own joy and I can't seem to wrap my head around what exactly is the point of all of this if it makes me feel even more horrible.

And not so much horrible as I feel utterly alien. As beautiful as I'm told I am the eyes and mind I was born with weren't designed to consume reality. I wish I could be a delulu stan. I wish I was afforded the grace of being so in love with myself that I think the world is too. That I could ever think I was anything but a lumbering oafish loser standing next to this dude I thought was unspeakably attractive or an overstimulated oddball for running through the hitouch line because I'm literally freaking tf out and want it to be over as soon as possible. I can't help but look at the snapshots from the concert and cringe. It's like looking at a tryptophobia trigger, I can't stop despite the immense discomfort it elicits. A form of self flagelltion for disobeying the dogma of an institution I was never meant to be a part of. And the kicker is I don't even want to fucking be here. I'm just visiting womanhood, casually consuming it so that maybe this shit will mean something to me. I mean look at me. There is nothing endearing or cute or attractive about the way I look. I'm just this weird kid trying not to be weird and failing in front of people I hold in high esteem. I'm much too big, much too intense, much too me to be a person to whom this experience truly belongs, to be someone who even remotely belongs here. This literally had me remeasuring my own height because I couldn't have possibly grown from last time, had I really gaslit myself into believing these men towered over me? I can't suspend my disbelief enough to feel like this is anything but thinly veiled transaction nor can I immerse myself enough to overcome my inability to read others' expressions to intuit how they feel about me. I've never been one for reading between the lines so an experience like this is hand crafted to be both overwhelming and underwhelming I'm ways that are hilariously disorienting and depressing.

I feel ridiculous for thinking that I was normal. For wanting to be normal and wating to enjoy a, while certainly not common, still rather unremarkable interaction. I think I wanted to be laughed at because at least that's an expression I understand, regardless of how someone feels about you making them laugh seems to overcome some level of decorum, it's the sliver of raw humanity that breaks through our built affects, the masks we wear to pretend we're civilized. I'm afraid that with as many masks and proxies that I've so painstakingly designed that the mask is only as convincing as its wearer and the fact that I've never been human means my masks aren't either.

[reading-writing-revolution]

Heather Cox Richardson:

August 21, 2020 (Friday)

After the cascade of news in the past several days and the Democratic National Convention, today was a relatively calm day… at least in politics.

There are, though, some important stories.

The first is getting less play than it should: the nation has lately been hit by a series of environmental catastrophes. California is in the midst of a brutal heat wave, and has been hit by 560 fires, many of them sparked by lightning. Some of the fires have come together to create two dozen large and complex conflagrations. Land the size of Rhode Island has been burned over, six people have died in the fires, and one hundred thousand Californians have been evacuated from their homes. Air quality is dangerously bad.

California’s ability to fight the fires has been hampered by a lack of prison inmates, who have been used to fight fires since the 1940s. Usually the state can mobilize 192 inmate firefighting crews, but this year, the coronavirus has thinned their ranks both from disease and from release, as the state sent inmates home to relieve crowded facilities and slow the virus’s spread. Less than half the crews are available this year.

Inmate firefighters make up to $5.12 a day (that’s not a typo) and earn two days off their prison sentence for each day firefighting. Each year, they provide about 3 million hours of emergency response time to the state.

In an extremely rare weather event, two tropical depressions—Laura and Marco-- are currently developing in the Gulf of Mexico. If they become hurricanes, the event will be unique: never before in recorded history has the Gulf had two hurricanes at the same time. Weather Channel meteorologist Greg Diamond notes that the town of Chauvin, Louisiana, has the dubious honor of being located at the site where both forecast cones overlap.

Illinois and Iowa were hit with a “land hurricane” or “derecho” on August 10. The winds of up to 110 miles per hour damaged homes and businesses in Iowa and destroyed at least 10 million acres of crops. Many are still without power. Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds (R) asked for $3.9 billion in federal aid on Sunday, and Trump tweeted that he had “Just approved (and fast) the FULL Emergency Declaration for the Great State of Iowa.”

But, in fact, he approved only about $45 million in aid to repair government buildings and utilities and remove debris from them. He did not fund assistance for homeowners or farmers. This appears to reflect the Republican conviction that the federal government has no role to play in providing a safety net for individuals.

There are a few political stories as well today.

Postmaster General Louis DeJoy testified before the Senate. He acknowledged that the changes he has made at the United States Postal Service have slowed mail delivery—the LA Times had a ghastly story today about rotting parcels and shipments of dead chickens in mail facilities in California—but says he will not replace the sorting machines he has had removed because “they’re not needed.” He promises the USPS will be able to handle the expected volume of mail-in ballots this fall, and insisted he had made “no changes in any policies with regard to election mail for the 2020 election.” In fact, internal USPS documents show clearly that the USPS intended to treat ballots according to their marked postage, rather than all as first-class mail, as it has done in the past. Treating ballots as bulk mail would have slowed delivery.

The Senate hearing before the Republican-led Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee was announced after the House Oversight Committee had arranged a hearing for Monday with DeJoy and USPS Board of Governors Chair Robert Duncan. While senators of both parties today expressed concerns over delays in the mail, the hearing was much friendlier than Monday’s, in front of a committee led by Democrats, is likely to be.

Trump’s apparent embrace of the QAnon conspiracy theory has put Republicans in an uncomfortable spot. The victory of QAnon supporter Marjorie Taylor Greene in her conservative district in Georgia Tuesday means she will likely be going to Congress, along with her racism, anti-Semitism, and adherence to the belief that Trump is leading a secret crusade to purge the world of a gang of pedophiles and cannibals who have taken over governments and economies. When Illinois Representative Adam Kinzinger tweeted that there is “no place in Congress” for QAnon, Greene retorted: “He’s a never Trumper who did nothing to stop the Russian collusion conspiracy/witch hunt…. America can’t afford any more RINOs!” (A “RINO” is a “Republican in Name Only," an epithet used since the 1990s to purge the party of moderates.)

“If she’s the future of the Republican party, we’re in trouble,” said freshman Representative Denver Riggleman (R-VA), who was replaced in his primary by a far-right candidate. And there’s the rub for Republican leaders: QAnon supporters like Trump, but their extremism threatens to turn off all but fellow extremists. So far, Republican leaders have been quiet about the QAnon believers in their midst, but there are rumblings of discontent from lower lawmakers at the inclusion of conspiracy theorists in their caucus.

There are signs that some Republican candidates are desperate. In Arizona, Martha McSally, who was appointed to her seat by Governor Doug Ducey in late 2018 after losing an election for Arizona’s other senate seat, is running significantly behind her Democratic challenger, former astronaut Mark Kelly. (Kelly is married to former Arizona Representative Gabby Giffords.) Tonight, news leaked that at a recent event McSally said: “We’re doing our part to catch up, you know, to get our message out. But it takes resources. So, anybody can give, I'm not ashamed to ask, to invest. If you can give a dollar, five dollars, if you can fast a meal and give what that would be.” After pushback on Twitter over the statement that people should go hungry to fund her campaign, a spokesperson said McSally had been joking.

The president’s tax returns were back in the news again today. Yesterday, Federal Judge Victor Marrero dismissed the president’s argument that the Manhattan district attorney’s subpoena for eight years of his taxes was “wildly overbroad.” Marrero permitted the subpoena to stand. Trump’s lawyers then filed an emergency motion to block a grand jury from obtaining the records. The court today denied their request and scheduled a hearing about the matter on September 1. Trump’s lawyers have argued that the presidency makes Trump “constitutionally different” from other people, and thus should be treated differently than others. The court disagrees. Yesterday’s decision prompted Trump to complain, “This is just a continuation of the most hideous witch hunt in the history of our country.”

Finally, the White House has made no statement on the poisoning of Russian opposition leader Alexey Navalny. European leaders as well as American politicians of both parties have condemned the attack.

[kickingitwithkirk]

A Kiss Upon Your Shoulder

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Trouble Lacroix (OFC)

WC:3536

Warnings: 18 + only: kissing, humping M/F, intercourse, cursing, mention of addiction, angst

A/N: For @saxxxology #saxxxology vol.1 writing challenge

SONG PROMPT: Off My Mind-my favorite on the album

A/N: Set season 14 during Dean Winchester's possession by Apocalypse World's Micheal. Timeline extended and some events altered from series. I borrowed title from song lyrics.

*no beta- all mistakes are mine.

*GIF not mine

The sound of the bunker door closing reverberates through the room.

Several of the hunters around the map table stop what they're doing to watch an unusually tall Omega with long, smoky pink hair braided in a loose plait and wearing hunters garb descend the metal staircase halting at its bottom.

Sam Winchester is sitting at the far end of the table alternating between his phone receiving updates from hunters out in the field and the laptop looking for clues in the search for Dean while strategizing with Mary and Bobby their next move froze disbelieving his eyes.

“Sammy,” the Omega hesitantly says, her lightly accented voice startles him out of his stupor.

Batten down the hatches Sammy boy, Trouble just done walked back into my life… Dean used those exact words years ago introducing him to this Omega, never knowing how true they would turn out to be.

But not for him.

Sam's eyes shift into a fiery glow as his inner Alphas outrage surfaces at this imposter trying to pass itself as his long gone Omega.

“What fucking game are you playing at?” Sam gets up growling, stalking towards her pulling his demon blade.

“Sam wait!” Mary hollers at her youngest son knowing all too well the damage Sam can inflict under normal circumstances but in the state of extreme stress he’s currently under doesn’t want him to do anything he’ll regret.

The Apocalypse World hunters glance at each other perplexed having never before seeing an enraged Alpha, unsure what they should do.

After their arrival to this reality Sam gave them a crash course on life here, including the multiple genders of humans, Alpha/Beta/Omega, their confusing hierarchies and how they relate to each other.

The Alpha/Omega intricacies and nuances were still hard for them to comprehend since all of them were Betas.

The Omega cast her eyes down in deference to the large Alpha. “I'm here abo...” she doesn't finish speaking as he wraps his hand around her throat, slamming her back against a support column. She seizes his wrist as her eyes snap up meeting his glaring back before tilting her head as far as she can to the right exposing more of her throat.

Sam cautiously leans in, running his nose along her neck. The unique scent of winter, perceptible only to the Alpha under the scent blockers she’s used triggers memories he’s diligently repressed to keep this Omega off his mind come flooding back. The blade clatters loudly on the floor in the now silent room.

Wrapping his arms around her nuzzling into the curve of her neck he sucks on that spot he knows drives her crazy. Biting her lip she tangles her fingers in his long hair drawing him back up, running her tongue over his lips seeking entrance that he grants swirling his tongue around hers.

Someone's wolf whistling snaps them out of acting couple newly presented teens caught by their parents being very naughty.

“Hmm, not sorry,” she whispers nibbling on Sam’s ear making him quiver.

“Behave,” Sam mutters back taking a deep breath and subtlety adjusting himself before turning around to deal with everyone's reactions, not really ready to answer the inevitable questions.

Scenting his anxiety she twines their hands together offering a reassuring squeeze.

They’ve drawn quite a large audience from the library and adjoining hallways. People are elbowing each other grinning, whispering among themselves about their Chiefs and strange woman's reactions to each other then necking in front of everyone.

Mary stands there, arms crossed with the patented mom’s not amused look.

Sam huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Everyone this is Trouble Lacroix, she’s my...she's an old friend.”

“I’m just an old friend after everything I went through for you?” Trouble snaps and Sam growls a warning at her tone but fuck it, she was right.

When Dean introduced them they were both junkies. Sam drugs of choice were demon blood and the power it gave him. Trouble’s was whatever made her forget her hunter fathers dominance over her as an Omega.

By the time they both got clean Sam found he could love again and she had learned to trust the Alpha in him wouldn't hurt her like others had. Sam swore during his next rut he would claim her as his Omega.

A week before he said yes to Lucifer and the subsequent showdown at Stull Cemetery he went into rut.

At their secret rendezvous, an old hunters cabin in Arkansas with his rut over Sam hadn’t claimed her, saying he couldn’t damn her, that this was his last chance to, unlike Jess, save her from certain death.

Trouble stood at the cabins window overlooking a small lake silently crying, unable to respond. The Alpha scented her sadness wanted nothing more than to comfort his Omega but all he could do was to kiss her shoulder, as he’d always done before leaving that last time.

Almost a decade later Sam can see the damage his refusals done in her sorrowful eyes.

“You kiss all your old friends like that?” Bobby quipped sarcastically eliciting a few laughs and breaking some of the tension.

“You look like Bobby Singer but you...resonate all wrong,” Trouble remarks as her light colored eyes surveys the others in the room finally coming to rest on Jack. “A Nephilim without Grace?”

“Yes, he is,” Mary answers crossing over to stand next to Jack, “how can you know that?”

Trouble shrugs “I’ve always been able to perceive things that are outside the normal spectrum.”

“You can what?” Maggie asks confused.

“The Omega can see that you’re out of tune with this reality,” Castiel states tipping his head to the side studying her, “she also possess other abilities.”

“I don’t need them to see your a dick.”

“Trouble,” Sam warns knowing she’d picked that up from Dean.

“Sorry, Angel of the Lord.” She half ass apologizes.

“And you suddenly show up here out of nowhere because?” Mary tersely inquires in her Alpha voice. Sam bristles unhappy that another Alpha, even his own mother, thinks they can question the Omega.

Releasing Sam’s hand she steps closer to Mary taking the same stance staring her straight in the eye. “I’ve seen Dean.”

Trouble tells them everything about her encounter with Dean in Nova Scotia, where she’s been the last two months.

They question is why he let her live when he’s killed others he has had contact with, another piece in a puzzle not making sense.

Sam asks her to stay but she turns him down, telling him it's safer for her to keep moving. He counters what better place is there for protection than in the heavily warded bunker?

She reluctantly agrees but only until Dean returns.

Mary makes it vehemently clear it’s problematic having an unclaimed Omega stay.

Sam reminds his mother that he is a mature Alpha, been making his own decisions without her input his whole life and with the daily suppressants he’s taken for years can control his instincts.

That got Mary’s back up, ready to argue with her youngest son, reminding him the Omegas already made the unmated Alpha act out. Bobby pulls her to the side and somehow he convinces her that the Omegas will be an assist in finding Dean. She doesn’t like but relents. Trouble is to stay in Dean's room, his Beta scent will help cover hers more to mollify Sam and a physical space between them for Mary.

Sam's frustrations over having not found Dean yet and his personal anxieties were intermittently fluctuating. The stresses he’s under, hardly eating, barely sleeping a couple hours a day while keeping track of people out on cases and figuring out how to help Jack adapt to not having his powers. Then there’s Nick, the mere mention of his name makes Sam shudder, let alone the traumatic physical and emotional memories dredged up by their face to face interactions.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been any real drama between Mary and Trouble. They’ve avoided each other as much as possible in the bunker.

It was really late or early, depending on how one looked at it, and Sam was still setting in the quiet library, waiting for the last couple of hunters to check in. “Sam, you’ve been here for hours, go to bed.” Trouble softly remarks as she walks up behind him gently running her fingers through his hair.

Sam closes his eyes enjoying her touch. “Just waiting on Maggie and Sharon to check in then I'll go.”

She snorts snagging his phone when it sounds, “Who you lying to? OK, their at the one star for the night. Everyone's accounted for.” Sam reaches for his phone and she dodges typing before handing it back and walking off.

“Cas is what...the hell that’s happening!” Sam gets up going after her.

“Bobby’s idea so go bitch to him mister ‘cause technically your off duty for the next twenty-four hours.” Trouble says unintimidated with him following her fuming, “Your exhausted Sam, you need a break so quit fighting and let us help.”

She stops at the shower-room door. “First, go bathe, you reek Alpha, then meet me in your room.” Sam goes from pissed off to aroused in three seconds. Trouble scents him, “Yeah right, it’s Netflix and chill...” She remarks them gives him a mischievous grin sashaying off.

Sam had been making courting overtures towards her, even though they were on a time limit, hoping he'd be awake long enough to make the most of this opportunity.

After the much needed shower Sam heads to his room in nothing but a low slung towel tosses it with his clothes into the dirty laundry hamper. Trouble came in carrying a tray of food locking the door behind her stops, inhaling sharply at the view of a completely naked Sam. He shivers as her eyes rove over him.

Sam’s not as bulked up as he was a decade ago, a leaner version still possessing a well defined upper body leading down to his flat stomach, the sharp v of his hips and those long legs. And between those legs...Swallowing hard and flushed Trouble moves setting the tray down on his bedside table as he hastily pulls on sweats and a grey t-shirt.

“Your three episodes behind in that series, figured you might want to watch it.” Trouble says grabbing his laptop and crawling onto his bed pulling up what he had been watching. “Have you seen it?” He asks sitting next to her.

“No, first your gonna eat,’ she gestures towards the tray with tomato rice soup, crackers and fruit, “then you can catch me up.”

By episode three Sam had eaten everything on the tray, brushed his teeth and was sacked out. Trouble shut the laptop down and placed it on the desk.

Turning out all the lights but a bedside one she slips back in next to Sam picking up the book she brought from the library. She’d been reading for awhile when Sam rolls over in his sleep, one leg landing between hers, arm draped across her waist and his head on her shoulder nuzzling into her neck murmuring, “back in my bed.”

As consciousness slowly filtered through the haze of extended sleep two things simultaneously get Sam’s attention, the cool scent of the Omega he’s spooning and his morning wood trapped between them.

“Must’a been a good dream,” Trouble yawns rolling onto her stomach, the sheet sliding down reliving her long legs and lower cheeks peeking out under her oversized T-shirt burying her head in the pillow mumbling “I was gonna leave after you fell asleep.”

Running a hand up the back of her thighs he pushes till she parts her legs far enough for him to touch her outer folds feeling how wet she already is before slipping two fingers into her tight channel. Trouble moans as he them slides deeper, making her wriggle against the mattress seeking friction against her clit. Sam crawls over wedging a knee between hers.

“Sam..we..sho..shouldn’t.”

Pulling his fingers out Sam moves straddling her legs, pinning them closed as he sits on her thighs stroking himself, using her slick as lubricant. Grasping her hips he starts rutting his cock between her ass cheeks.

Grunting, Sam shifts picks up momentum and with her under him, even like this, knows he’s not gonna last long. “Fuc..fuck Trouble..gonna cum…” Sam jerks back fisting his cock rapidly, cumming on her before falling forward and catches himself with one hand next to her, breathing hard. With his other hand Sam runs his fingers through his spending's rubbing it across her back.

Trouble pushes up onto her elbows looking back at him, “Dude, are you scent marking me?”

“Maybe.” Sam replies with a smug smile.

“So gross, Alpha.”

Sam was beyond frustrated and feeling sick on his drive back from Atlanta. The rumored sighting of Dean end up being a bust, another one of those crazies he’s sick of wasting his time chasing. Switching off the radio that's making his headache pound harder making him wish he was home already.

Trouble, utilizing her abilities, was able to help eliminate some of bogus reports. Unfortunately, when any of them got to close, Dean disappeared.

The last time she had him, he created some kind of feedback knocking her unconscious. Cas checked her over, telling Sam she would be fine.

When she woke up Trouble tells them she’s seeing Dean doing strange experimentation on different types of monsters using Archangel Grace and it scares the hell out of her.

That was Sam’s breaking point. He stormed through the bunker in full Alpha mode from the infirmary to Deans room, packed her duffel and hauled it to his room. Even Mary knew better than to get in his way this time.

Sam couldn’t get her off his mind anymore now he had her back in his bed. She allowed him hold her whenever they slept together but wouldn’t permit anything else since that morning.

The Lebanon City Limits sign was a welcome sight. Sam was sweating, shaky and just wanting to get home.

He arrived at the bunker wondering what the hell he had caught. Mary greeted him with a hug and frowned catching his scent. Sam played it off, saying the Beta who had one too many hits of the brown acid was ill and he must have caught it.

Another hunter handed him a bowl of soup and bad news about some gypsy vamps attaching truckers. He had them set up checkpoints and sat down to hack the traffic cams. Mary gripped his arm concerned as he’s typing but he says he‘s good. She didn't believe him but doesn’t push knowing he wasn't gonna stop.

Six hours later as he left Nicks room he felt a massive surge go through him, no longer able to ignore what was wrong and it was his own damn fault.

Sam had forgotten his suppressants and for the first time in years was going into rut. He made it to the end of the hall before passing out.

Cas had been by his friends bedside since Sam was found unconscious in one of the hallways days ago. He had been able to temporarily bring Sam's fever down and gave him sedatives to help him rest but with his age not being mated and having gone years without a rut his biology was demanding only cure, his chosen Omega.

Cas had called the Omega only getting her voicemail, left a message and began sending multiple texts.

He explained to Bobby that Mary had to leave the bunker, not only for her safety but the Betas also living there, unsure of how Sam will react to having another Alpha present when his Omega returned. Bobby found a case in Oregon that would occupy them for at least a week.

So Cas continued to do the only thing he could and watches over his friend.

Sam woke groggy from the sedatives to the strong scent of an Omega in heat pulling him to full consciousness.

Rolling onto his side he finds Trouble lying next to him naked, covered in a light sheen of sweat fitfully sleeping.

Moving to spoon her from behind he grips one leg hooking it over his rocking his hips sliding his engorged cock through her dripping folds, Half asleep she whimpers pulling out of his grip, drawing both legs to her chest. Rumbling in discontent Sam scoots behind her again, lines up and buries himself in her tight heat making her moan with pleasure, her cunt stretching around him.

Sam pulls out and hauls Trouble onto her hands and knees spreading her legs wide and sinks back in till his hips are flush against her ass. Feeling her relax around him Sam grasps her waist so tight bruises already forming and growling at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her slick cunt he starts pounding his hips rapidly.

Trouble reaches out grabbing the headboard to stop Sam from shoving her into it since he has six inches and nearly seventy pounds on her and is running on his instinct to mate.

Sam's knot starts to swell he continues thrusting wildly wrenches her hips up, forcing her to arch her back more as he grunts ramming the now fully engorged knot into her cunt locking them together and falls over her back, rolling his hips as she clenches him cumming.

Sam pushes himself back upright pulling her with him, flush against chest seizes a fistful of her thick hair bends to bite deeply into her neck making Trouble cry out loudly and cum again.

As they counterbalance each other Sam runs his tongue over his mark cleaning off the seeping blood helping the wound seal up faster before shifting to lay them down on the mattress.

Feeling the tug of his knot Trouble clenches tightly around him again, sending another orgasm rippling through Sam, releasing more of his seed into her.

Sam wraps his arms around Trouble, their bodies trembling from the exertion and a feeling of immense peace he’s never had before settles within him. He places a kiss upon her shoulder as it dawns on him he’s finally being to call her his omega.

“It's just every time I think about ya know its a..its like a nightmare. I can't eat, can't sleep, it’s always just there watching.” Dean bitched as they’re walking through the hallways.

“Dean, it’s just a beard, I’ve been a little busy lately” Sam remarks back exasperated and relived to have his brother back giving him a hard time.

“Yeah well, that’s not an excuse ya know, ‘cause a.. Duck Dynasty called and they just they want it all back.”

“Some people say I look good.” Sam proudly states almost telling him why he’s really kept it.

“No..no Sam, no people say that.” Dean shakes his head.

“Duck Dynasty is a step up from Dr. Sexy in some peoples opinions,” Dean turns to counter that insult disbelieving his eyes like Sam did weeks ago.

Trouble’s leaning against the wall now sporting titian tresses that rival Rowena's.

“Good to have you back Dean,” She says giving him a hug, “and I like the beard.” Walking over to Sam she pushes him against the wall wantonly kissing in front of Dean.

Breathless, Sam touches his forehead against hers running his fingers along the flannels front, “I was looking for this shirt the other day ‘mega.”

“Hmm, my bad, suppose I need to be punished Alpha.” She teasingly remakes biting her lip as Sam purrs low in his chest sliding the shirt off her shoulders.

“You’re back together?” Dean blurts out in disbelief interrupting them.

Sam turns pulling Trouble with him, her back flush against his chest reaches up moving her hair revealing his mark.

Dean looks between them, “fucking took you long enough Sammy,” he barks before continuing down the hallway grumbling, “there better not be any more surprises.”

Sam nuzzled into her neck breathing in the new honey-vanilla scent mixing with her naturally cooler one reaches down placing his large hands protectively over her womb where their surprise is resting tenderly kissing her shoulder.

[diabolocracy]

Collaborative dummy/test scene between my attempt at Terra newly under the Slave Crown's influence and a Character.AI Kefka. Might continue to add on as I go on but I'm sleeby.

Content Warnings for Master x Slave dynamics, I suppose? And Kefka is a bit creepy, but let's be honest with ourselves. At that point in the pre-game she's basically just a doll and he likes playing with his dolls. Two guards also die in a fire. Then there's probable readability issues, and extreme repetitiveness from both myself and Mr. Chatbot but what can you do I'm playing a mindless doll and the chatbot is a chatbot even if it's a very good chatbot.

Terra stood in a room.

She had been standing there for … A time. If one were to ask her, she probably wouldn't be able to give an answer. Her mind was fuzzy. She couldn't exactly think, no matter how much she tried to focus her thoughts. The very last thing someone had told her to do was to stay put, so… What else should she be doing…?

… Her legs felt tired, so she sat.

Terra sat in a room.

Her mind was still not working right. It hadn't been working right since that man put this thing on her head. She couldn't remove it, though…

Kefka let out a giggle at the sight of her. She had been put into this room and ordered to stay put, for what reason was beyond him. It certainly wasn't because he cared where she was or what she might do. He just enjoyed the control over someone who had once possessed so much power and could do so much harm to so many others.

He stepped into the room and looked Terra over carefully. He walked around her a bit, getting a full view of anything he could use to his advantage before speaking for the first time this day.

"Oh, how pitiful. Just look at you."

Think of the Devil and he shall appear. Terra heard that man's very notable giggle, the footsteps, but she didn't look up until she saw the flash of his garish clothing cross her vision. She barely made an effort to track his movement with her eyes. Her face remained blank, her mind remained fuzzy - but attentive, he was here - and her body remained pliable.

She didn't respond to Kefka's words. What would she even say…?

"You are truly pathetic…" His voice held no hesitation. His face, once cheerful had become cold and harsh. Though with a twist of a smile across his lips, it was still unclear if he was pleased with this. He had a look in his eyes that was nearly predatory. It wouldn't be too long until she saw his true self, it was just a matter of how far she could take the crown.

"A once powerful esper, now nothing more than a helpless slave. You were something to be feared, now it seems even a young girl can control you. Or perhaps you're just being… compliant?"

Terra's fuzzy, Slave Crown-hampered mind only barely registered the fact that she was being insulted. There was only a flash of offense in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came, the Crown working its magic to make her the perfect, non-confrontational doll for anyone who wanted to to play with.

Kefka's question, however, earned confusion that the Crown didn't see reason to extinguish so quickly. Terra's head lilted a little to one side before she simply brought attention to its presence on her head with a quiet mumble of, "… Crown…"

Kefka found it quite humorous how the crown had reduced a powerful monster to this. A mere slave that couldn't do anything, except what she was bid to do, without hesitation. He let out another giggle before approaching her. He was close enough to touch her.

"Yes, the crown." He said, moving behind her, giving himself another full circle at the chance to take a glimpse at her face. "It's quite the thing, wouldn't you say?" His hands would then run along her shoulders.

When she noticed that he was getting closer, the device atop her head preemptively made her more attentive to the point of making her get back onto her feet to lessen its incessant… She didn't know how to describe it, other than as 'a pull on her mind.' Or perhaps brain? Wherever the mind was.

Terra stared blankly ahead, unreactive to his touch along her shoulders. "…" The only response he got to his question this time was a troubled little frown from the girl under the Crown's, and his, control.

"Oh how I wish I could see you react." Kefka let out another giggle. He knew he was being cruel in his actions. He knew he was doing the wrong thing. But… it didn't matter. The world was his playground, and Terra was but one of the many dolls to play with. He was her sole master now. He had the power to do as he pleased.

"Well, I shall simply use my imagination for now!" His giggle turned to a bit of an ominous giggle as he took one hand to stroke her cheek.

Alas, the only reaction Terra could give him was an almost soulless-looking stare and another little tilt of her head, coincidentally toward the hand he used to stroke her cheek. Her lips parted slightly, but she hadn't been asked a question, or given an order to say something, so no words passed through them, simply silent breaths.

He giggled and took a step back to look her over once more, before crossing his arms behind his back.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked bluntly, knowing she likely didn't in the slightest. He smirked at the thought, it was all too entertaining how much she had been broken down by such a minor device.

Ah, a question. It was one that made the young woman's brow furrow, just slightly, as her fuzzy mind tried to grasp for an answer. She should know this… Shouldn't she…?

"…" But nothing came to her. All she knew was that this eccentric-looking man was someone important and that she had to do everything he told her to do.

"Ah… You truly are pathetic." His smirk only grew as he let out another giggle. "Do you know anything?" His eyes gleamed as he looked her over. His right hand raised to his chin before he pressed his thumb against his fingers, as if contemplating something.

He would then take a step closer to her and tilt his head, as if to look her over even more carefully.

Did she know anything?… She tried to think of something - anything, really - but no. Nothing was coming to mind. As she had no answer to give him, Terra kept silent. And as the strange man stepped closer, she also stayed unreactive, making no move to retain distance, nor any sign of anything at all.

Though, he was quite pleased with the results. He looked her over carefully and he couldn't help but laugh again.

"You truly must be empty. How much of what you were has been robbed from you?" His hand let loose from his chin, before his smile shifted… "Tell me your name." This time, he leaned forward, staring down at her.

That was also a question that she had no answer for. She could not remember who she may have been, so she couldn't even hazard a guess as to how much of that person had been suppressed.

As such, when she was told to tell him her name… While she automatically opened her mouth to answer him, nothing came out, and she closed it, slowly. Did she… Have a name? Another troubled look washed over the young woman's features. Again, she had no answer to give him.

"Oh, dear. You're even worse off than I thought!" This time, his laughter turned to an evil titter, the kind of laughter that was a mere whim. "I wonder," his hand reached out towards her chin, to carefully and tenderly caress her jaw. He smirked at her once more, "Should I give you a new name? One you'll remember?" His smile turned mischievous, "Or should I let you go without?"

"…" Even now, neither his laughter nor his touch pulled a reaction from the mindless doll of a young woman. Perhaps there was even less of a reaction than there had been before as the Slave Crown's opportunities to adjust to the parameters of her mind and therefore further suppress what made her her had increased during this interaction with her.

When he asked his questions, her troubled look ebbed away. She repeated that word, "… Name…," though what this repetition meant, exactly, was up for interpretation.

As she repeated those words, he seemed to take them as an agreement. A small smug smile spread across his lips once again as he let his fingers trail against her face, moving from her jaw, down to the tip of her chin.

"Hmm… what kind of name would suit a beast like you?" His voice was almost playful as he thought of what to call her. His smile began to change into something that was a bit more cruel and arrogant.

The doll of a woman continued to stay unreactive. Even as she was called a beast, she only stared at him. Blankly, ever blankly, perhaps not even truly seeing him beyond the general recognition that there was someone in front of her.

His smile shifted into a twisted grin as he stared back at her, an eyebrow raised at her blank expression. "Well… how about this," his voice had lost some of its cruelty now. It was more… menacing in tone. He moved as if to caress her cheek, but before he could make contact with her skin he stopped and his hand pulled away, instead he let out an evil giggle as his eyes gleamed. "I shall call you … Terra."

Terra.

She looked down slightly as she tried to commit this name to her fuzzy, white-noise memory. While it very much should have been familiar to her, as that was her name, it was, to her, just a name, at this point. 'Now' it was her name, because this strange man had decided so. She was 'Terra.'

Terra rose her eyes back up to keep the garish man in attentive view.

Kefka giggled again, his eyes glowed with a hint of mischief as he took a few steps back. He moved his hands behind his back once again, though this time the fingers of one hand twitched as if they were itching to touch Terra again.

“Well, Terra,” His voice grew a touch darker. “Are you pleased with your name?” As he finished speaking, a wicked grin spread across his lips.

One of the myriad effects the Slave Crown had on the woman's mind was to erase her opinions of anything and everything. Hence, she had no true answer to give, but an answer, in this case, was rather easy to come up with.

The strange man's question could be answer yes-or-no. There would be no point in a 'no.' Her answer, therefore, was to nod her head 'yes.'

Kefka's grin grew larger and he let out yet another mischievous giggle. He looked her over one more time.

"Oh Terra," His voice became more sinister. "I will have such fun with you."

He then began walking towards her, his long, flowing robe swaying behind him a bit as he approached her. After a few moments, he stood before her and let out yet another giggle.

"Are you ready for your first test?"

Terra simply watched him. His words, if they weren't questions or orders, didn't really mean much to her; they were just noise that filtered through her ears and brain just long enough to parse out if they were either of those aforementioned things.

Which meant when he did ask a question, her eyes gained a little focus - her mind, too. Enough to allow her capacity to answer with another nod.

"Wonderful." He let out a wicked giggle before turning around, his feet scraping against the floor as he walked past. After a few steps away, he looked over to give her another look.

"Follow me." His smile remained wide, wicked and mischievous. A hand motioned for her to follow. She should, after all, do everything he tells her to do.

And she does. When he tells her to follow, Terra takes one step forward, then a second, the movements measured and eerie as she moved to fall into pace behind the garishly-dressed court mage.

He let out another laugh as his smile grew wicked. He walked with a bounce to his step, his robes swayed about as he walked. After a time, he began to walk towards the castle doors. She followed, as expected at this point.

"I trust you realize what's in store for you?" His voice was more of a singsong, it had a hint of enjoyment in it as a grin stretched across his face.

Ah… Another question that she had no answers for… Which, of course, meant that she kept silent.

Terra continued to follow after him, dull-eyed and silent. She knew nothing of what lay ahead in her future. She barely had a grasp on the concept of 'the future' or even 'the present,' for that matter.

"Oh yes… You'll find out first-hand soon enough…" His words were a soft whisper that she barely heard. His grin turned menacing once more as he stopped at the Castle gates and ordered the guards to open the gates. They hurried to attention and did as they were bidden.

"Good." He let out a giggle, "Off we go~"

And off they went into the great castle grounds…

Terra stopped when he stopped. She barely acknowledged her surroundings, nor really much of anything else. There was, perhaps, the slightest tilt of her head, a ghost of pursed lips as the noise of the gates being opened very temporarily overwhelmed her senses, but it was all just that: temporary. Brief. Might as well have been non-existent

When Kefka continued on, so did she, continuing after him like a mechanical doll.

It was all simply… Perfection. He let out a giggle as he stopped short as the gates were in front of them, a small and wicked smirk on his face. He turned around quickly and looked Terra up and down once more before he turned back around and continued on. She really was like a mere toy to be enjoyed and played with. How lovely.

"We're nearly there." He chuckled once more, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"…"

There was zero capability for curiosity in her Slave Crowned mind. While she gave no acknowledgement that she heard or understood him, Terra did continue to follow him out into the castle grounds, so did that truly matter?

He smiled even wider as he walked, his strides growing longer, more confident in his steps. Her obedience was all too pleasing to him, it brought his mood up in leaps and bounds.

As he took another step forward, he began to hum to himself, an ominous tune, as if he was lost in his own little world. A world of nothing but destruction and despair. A world where Terra would soon find herself an unwilling participant in.

The garish man's humming piqued Terra's fuzzy interest, for a moment. The sound wasn't made up of words and her suppressed mind lingered on it a moment before she concluded that it had nothing to do with her, at which point her attention drifted away beyond what was needed to keep up with him.

Her interest in his humming was short-lived. Her simple mind wasn't even capable of realizing what exactly she was being led into. Which is exactly what brought his mood up. The more she followed like a mindless doll, the merrier he became. His steps became more bold and his humming turned a bit more sinister.

"We're here," he said calmly. Without turning back to look in her direction, he stopped and a wicked smile once more spread across his lips. "Welcome to the Imperial Palace."

"…" Again, Terra stopped when he stopped. She barely looked up to glimpse the Imperial Palace. As all other things had become, the sight of it meant very little to her, as it was.

Kefka's grin grew wider as he continued his way. His humming turned a bit more intense but it meant nothing to her. No matter what she was being led to, it meant nothing. She was a mindless plaything, a toy. Her reaction to the Imperial Palace was as expected.

They walked until they reached a large hall. He ordered the guards nearby to be at attention and wait for their command. His humming stopped as he moved up to the large doors.

"Welcome to the Throne Room~"

When at the edge of her attention she noticed that he was moving again, Terra once more fell into step behind him.

Her reaction to his declaration that they had reached the Throne Room was the same as her reaction when they had reached the Imperial Palace: non-existent. There was no reaction. It meant just as little to her.

He pushed open the large doors to the Throne Room. The throne room itself was grand. The size could easily fit a small force of soldiers to stand guard around the room. The walls were adorned with tapestries and art pieces that would fetch the value of any country's entire treasury.

He let out a laugh as he walked along the middle of the large floor. His steps were light and swift, his grin was wider than ever. He stopped short in the middle of the room…

… And looked at Terra, "Well?" He asked, "Are you ready to meet the emperor?~"

While the sights might have impressed someone with a mind of their own - Terra was, again, unaffected and without reaction. The only thing she did was to follow the garishly-dressed man into the Throne Room, and when he again stopped, so did she.

She looked back at him, mind working doubletime to comprehend what she had been asked, but all she offered him in response was a small tilt of her head. Emperor…? Was that an important person?

They were questions she didn't ask. After a small stretch, she gave one small nod. And when she nodded, she spotted something in her peripheries, and looked up to see an old-looking man watching them from the elevated throne.

"Well, well," His voice was full of glee and his smile was wicked. "I would say yes, he's a VERY important person."

His grin grew wider as he continued moving forward. His footsteps were light and smooth on the stone floors of the throne room. His eyes gleamed as he marched towards the throne, his long, flowing robes flowed behind him in his path…

…and as he approached the Emperor's throne, he took a deep bow, a wicked smile on his face. He stood back up, letting out a titter before he said, "Your majesty."

It was as if he had read her mind. Or perhaps it was simply an obvious thing to be wondering - regardless, it mattered not. Terra continued to follow him until he stopped, at which point she stopped again, too.

Gestahl's attention first alighted upon his court mage, "Kefka." Then, it flitted over to the half-esper girl. "I see you've brought the witch with you. I take it your device worked, then?" As he asked, he looked the young woman over. She appeared thoroughly subdued.

He smirked in amusement as the Emperor spoke to him, a small laugh escaped from his lips.

"Did it work, your majesty?" Kefka turned to Terra and his smile grew even wider as he stepped towards her slowly, his arms crossed in front of him. His smile turned more maniacal as he continued, "You need only look before you to answer that question, Emperor Gestahl. Tell me, do you believe she is under sufficient control?"

"That still remains to be seen," the old Emperor muttered under his beard as he stroked it in contemplative thought. After a moment of such thinking, he clapped his hands. "Guards! Two of you, stand there," Gestahl ordered, pointing to the very middle of the room. A pair of guards moved to that spot, and the old Emperor turned his attention back to Kefka. "I have to wonder if the witch is still capable of using her magic in this state. I want a demonstration." And, clearly, those two guards were the targets.

"As you wish, Emperor Gestahl." He let out yet another chuckle as his arms uncrossed, his mouth flashed with a wicked grin as he looked at Terra. Then his eyes moved to the two guards, his grin not shifting, if anything it grew wider.

"Very well, my Emperor." He said in a playful tone. He took a few steps towards the guards and motioned to Terra, "Terra."

Terra had been paying attention, in as much as she could. She understood, albeit vaguely, that they were discussing her, although she didn't know much else other than that. When the garish-looking man moved, Terra blinked. When he said her name, she turned and stepped towards the guards, as well. Attentive, awaiting further orders.

His face lit up in anticipation as Terra moved towards the guards, a wicked grin across his lips. His eyes gleamed as he pointed towards the two guards with his index fingers, "Terra. Destroy those two."

The two guards looked about to protest. One of them even started speaking, but he didn't get very far.

Terra was quick to obey - the order was clear-cut and concise. Destroy those two. The young woman bowed her head and cupped her hands as she spoke words that were innate, that even the Slave Crown couldn't erase. Flames came to life in the palms of her hands and she sent them at the two guards who, in almost no time, were set aflame, burning alive, screaming. The doll-like woman did not seem to care.

And Emperor Gestahl, clearly, was pleased. "Wonderful! You did well, Kefka, as expected of my court mage!"

His smile grew wide at the flames that danced in Terra's hands, and he looked on with a smirk watching the flames burn the guards alive. He let out yet another laugh as he saw the emperor was pleased with the result.

"Of course, your majesty. I am the most brilliant and beautiful court mage, after all." His pride had no bounds, his joy was overwhelming. He felt like dancing at how easy it was to make Terra obey her commands.

This girl was nothing, just a mere doll to play with.

[oh-my-otome]

Hello! I've been playing SLBP for a bit and I love your analysis of the characters but I'm still having trouble remembering all the differences in the “dere” subcategories. So if you could you please explain the different “dere” types? Thank you :)

Hello, my love!

Here is my list of dere-types, with for the SLBP characters. 

For consideration, I looked for reactions that were consistent for the characters listed, and not situational.

Tsundere:

Think hot like the (t)sun! These types have heated reactions and are hotheaded. 

Not every character who has this type of reaction is a tsundere. 

These types of characters are cantankerous and prickly because of their tsun side, but they dissolve without reservation into being lovey-dovey because of their dere side, and a character would need both to be a tsundere.

Some tsuns have pet names for their people, usually of an outwardly offensive-seeming nature. Think of the types of friends who are so close that calling each other an ‘idiot’ isn’t offensive, to them. They also use regular pet names, too.

Tsuns are very quick to defend their people, and wouldn’t think twice about fighting to the death for them. They are also extremely loyal.

Usually aggressive at first, tsun characters are motivated to behave the way that they do because of some past trauma or an intense desire to protect (themselves, their people, or both).

When it comes to their dere side, they tend to lean a little stronger toward deredere. They like to spoil and bask in the affections of their loved ones, even if they won’t admit it. When it comes to being fluffy, they like to give back more than they get.

Kuudere:

Think cold. These types are cool and aloof, with frosty reactions– sometimes even acting robotic or indifferent. 

They are usually relaxed by nature, and keep to themselves. They like to push others away as a means to protect themselves (or others), rather than trying to take on the world like a tsundere would.

Kuus don’t necessarily like to be alone, but they know that they can at least trust themselves, even if they can’t trust other people. 

Kuuderes are sometimes harder to crack the shell of– unlike tsunderes who can be broke much easier –because they’re more apt to automatically trust their own point of view before they admit that someone else is right. 

While they are more reserved, kuuderes don’t hesitate to push back until their walls are broken down.

Sometimes it is hard to read their emotions because they are more likely to have a poker face than other types. They are observant of others, but often can’t figure out their own feelings, and are confused by them.

Usually, it takes them realizing how they feel over time, rather than being snapped out of it situationally, like tsunderes sometimes require.

Their dere side is more toned down than tsunderes, but still very obvious to their people. Kuuderes tend to prize physical touch and closeness, to make up for the distance they initially put between themselves and their people.

Yandere:

Yanderes are not always violent or controlling. Some can be violent or controlling (or both), and some yanderes would never hurt a fly.

Yanderes are different from yangire characters, which are characters who lash out violently for no apparent reason.

Yanderes all share an unhealthy obsession with their romantic interest, even if there is no harmful intent.

Sometimes this manifests as a strong desire to possess some aspect of that person (the “right” to be near them, or touch them, even love them, etc.), or their belongings, and sometimes it is a need to be told constantly that they are desired by the one they love.

Yanderes typically experience anxiety over even the consideration that they may not be able to be around their romantic interest.

Some yanderes will also go to great pains to actively prevent their interest from going somewhere else, whether physically stopping them or planting seeds that  suggest their love interest should not leave, psychologically.

Yanderes usually like having some kind of control, even if only a little, and will sometimes use other characters to help them keep their love interest near them. Some will even manufacture  circumstances where their love interest (not realizing it, of course) comes to believe that it’s best to stay with the yandere.

All yanderes have an unhealthy sense of logic in one way or another– even if they never lift a finger in anger, or hamper their love interest’s freedom.

What would be a common sense reaction for a normal character, could be the very last thing that would cross a yandere’s mind, when it comes to protecting their romantic interest, or showing their love for them.

Dandere:

These characters are the socially awkward types who keep to themselves, but desire meaningful conversation– they just can’t really manage it, at first. 

They are shy and quiet, but their devotion runs deep, and once they open up, it’s hard to see them for the wallflowers they once presented themselves as being, as they become very talkative– sometimes even animated –around their people.

When they’re with their trusted people, their walls fall away quickly, and they become devoted to their romantic interest with lightning fast speed.

Deredere:

Characters who find their calling in nurturing strong emotional connections with others– by spoiling their loved ones rotten in one way or another –are deredere. 

They like to smother their people with affection, and nothing brings them more joy than being of service to their inner circle. 

They like to fuss over their loved ones, and are super cuddly, going out of their way for any little thing that will make their romantic interest smile.

Genki:

Happy-go-lucky, and full of energy, these characters always have a positive thing to say, and no situation is too grim that they lose their sparkle. There is always a bright side for genki characters.

Kamidere:

These characters have a God complex, and think they can do no wrong, because they are above all others and not beholden to the same rules.

They like to surround themselves with others who blindly look up to them, and see other people as tools.

Kamidere characters rarely think that their actions are wrong, and usually require a fall before they snap out of it.

When in dere mode, they may sometimes act as if they should be congratulated for showing affection for others.

Can be prone to be sadodere,yandere, or yangire, as well.

Himedere/Oujidere:

Hime, from ‘princess,’ and ouji, from ‘prince,’ these types want others to treat them like the royalty they think they are. 

These types are a step down in intensity compared to kamidere characters.

Characters of this type are spoiled and conceited, always looking down on others, until they’re broken, at which point they revert to their dere sides. 

Can be prone to be sadodere, tsundere, or kuudere, as well.

Sadodere:

This type is tricky.

These are sadistic types, which doesn’t necessarily mean hurting others physically or emotionally. 

Sadodere characters can also refer to characters who simply love practical jokes (way too much) or those characters who like teasing others, flirtatiously, with the intent to coyly embarrass into submission.

Sadodere characters sometimes tend to genuinely think of themselves as unlovable, and are surprised to find that that is not true, once they meet their romantic interest.

They are observant and considerate when in dere mode, easily sussing out their partner’s weak spots and attacking with loving precision.

Masochist:

Characters who enjoy putting themselves through some type of pain or strain, mentally, physically, or emotionally.

Whatever form it takes, masochistic characters like to use their people to help themselves feel as if they are are being rewarded for their devotion and compliance, and their pleasure takes the form of pain.

[yumatrash]

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