#Had this sitting in drafts for awhile

[lennythereviewer]

Theory: Jax is NOT a self-aware NPC nor is he actually trapped in the circus: He's a hacker who can leave at any time.

Even what little we got in terms of Jax content in episode 3 has been reinforcing a belief I've had for awhile, and in fact Jax's brief standout moment in ep 3 added a new wrinkle to my thought: That he's not some NPC who gained sentience and slipped in with the humans, he's actually a hacker who backdoored his way into the Digital Circus, and he's not trapped there.

Jax seems to have an affinity for keys and getting into places he shouldn't belong. Twice now he's done this thing of spinning a key on his finger while boasting about it. He mentions in episode 1 that "I got keys to everywhere" and in episode 2 he swiped the key to the kingdom from Ragatha, and the candy monster calls him a "Master of Unlocking Things" which I think could be genuinely some subtle foreshadowing. A hacker would potentially be able to do something like clip out of bounds, find security keys, crack passwords, and so on and so forth. All he's done with this however is seemingly just pull pranks and leave things in peoples rooms; he's a troll.

We've all speculated about the mysterious pin-back covers: The official pin merch line showing everyone's rooms except for Jaxs, which only shows his door and peeks of The Void tearing through the wall. We're not privvy to what's in Jaxs room if he even has one at all. His room door might actually be his own sort of exit door since he's not trapped. For him it's like loading into a VRChat server and he can log off any time he wants, he's just always sure to be there when everyone else is active so no one notices.

A small stupid thing but, "Jax" is not too far off from "Hax"

Okay, so if Jax is a hacker who can come and go as he pleases, a question is why? Why does he keep coming back to torment everyone around him? His brief gag in Episode 3 I think filled in the blanks for that: He's not just a hacker, he's a streamer and he's broadcasting everything that's happening in the Digital Circus to a watching audience.

He's the one character who has consistently broken the fourth wall in all three episodes so far, the first two episodes were him mugging to the camera and giving comical shrugs and knowing glances to the viewer, but in this episode he outright addresses the audience while seemingly talking to no one to the POV of the other circus members. He's acknowledging his chat. Plus in merch promotion Jax has openly acknowledged his IRL popularity, another form of fourth-wall-breaking.

This may also explain his overall behavior; the reason he's always causing problems on purpose or forcing the group to go on the most dangerous path or take the most 'exciting' option in their adventures: It makes for a good show. Audiences don't want some stupid silly candyland fantasy! They want car chases and explosions! They want to see what wacky things happen to the other circus members! The show must go on! Jax is chasing content, and when he can't get that content it upsets him like the end of Episode 2. Maybe that ties into his self-worth, maybe he needs that sort of validation from his chat and audience.

This angle also adds a bit of a meta angle to the entire series: We the viewer also tune in to watch our favorite circus buddies suffer through whatever zany adventure Caine cooked up. Are we any better than Jax's livestream audience who tune in to see how they're tormented by Caine this week? Heck maybe in-universe we're the audience Jax is playing to! We too want to see them sweat and suffer to get that sweet character growth so are we part of the problem?

Time will tell whether this comes to pass and whether or not I'm overthinking this, but I've had this thought for awhile and only after this episode did the livestreamer angle come to mind.

[witchydykebitch]

[borderlinereminders]

The text reads “Being tolerant of pain doesn’t mean you should have to endure it.”

[raccoonstickses]

[valenfield-inspo]

Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield Resident Evil: Death Island (2023)

[peteytheparrot]

He’s fine guys 👍

[pagetbewbster]

Criminal Minds 7x24 • If Morgan & Prentiss actually hooked up after JJ’s wedding

[trevormoore]

carlos sainz x the moon will sing - the crane wives

[masquerade-flags]

subsystem alter,

Subsystem Primary Host, Subsystem Secondary Host, and Subsystem Tertiary Host role flags

Primary Host, Secondary Host, and Tertiary Host but for subsystems. These flags are meant to refer to the alter(s) in a nested subsystem that functions as the fronting alter in the wider inner world. However these can also be used for whole subsystem that function as the hosts of the archsystem.

Subsystem Body (as a role) and Subsystem Body (as an attribute) flags

What/who a nested subsystem is contained within. The subsystem body may or may not resemble (one of) the alters within.

Two versions because sometimes it more of a role and others time it kinda just is.

[twpsyn-who]

Time-loop AU, but instead of being forced to redo a moment in life until the problem is fixed Jean gets thrown from universe to universe with the mission to save Marco.

Just that he always fails. No matter what he does, who he trusts, when he acts- he keeps failing. Marco always dies and Jean always finds the body first.

And Jean is tired. So many things happen at once, roles reverses and scenarios changed- he can't think straight. Dying means redoing the same scenario. Marco dying means doing another scenario. He doesn't know how to stop it. Doesn't know how to save Marco without dying in the process.

It is hell

[yandereshingeki]

me & touya bpd4bpd relationship. a constant struggle

[elisedonut]

Soulmate au concept (thats also a soul eater au concept but only very very loosely)

OK so soulmate pairs where one party can turn into a weapon right?

I just think it's fun even though my thoughts for Percy keeps switching

so here are some thoughts I've had about some of my personal fav Percy ships

like For Marcus Percy would turn into a hammer for example like a big oversized one.

For Oliver I have no real ideas ngl but I would love to hear opinions axe? Sword?? Broom?? Beater bat??? But those two aren't really weapons hmmm.

Draco turning into a sword (this is also where my brain came up with the idea that if you can both turn that means your like soulmatesx2 with percy turning into a gun)

Colin something ranged bow and arrow, throwing knife, Spear, ooh a gun like a small single handed one

Luna also something ranged but like defense focused maybe? I think like a spear. But I also like the idea of something more odd that no one recognizes.

[skips-is-asleep]

Tavros board by aradia

Explanation undercut:

So aradia and tavros were very good friends obviously, and by that i mean, the comic didn't give us hardly any information about either of these characters so i stole them and made them my own and we all did the same.

I think Tavros has a deceptively dry sense of humor, and its one of aradia's favorite things about him. Ive stated in other posts that i also just think that the two of them, plus Sollux all just look out for each other a lot for lowblood solidarity, and it really comes out between tavros and aradia. Before The Incident, im sure there were lots of times when Aradia stepped up and stood up for/protected tavros, and the reverse as well! (assuming vriska isnt involved) Speaking of Vriska, Aradia does NOT approve of their relationship, and i think she actively tries to talk him out of him any opportunity she can

[madame-peach]

Ex-Father’s Day

“I woke up to gentle, urgent knocks. “Peach, Dad just died” was the murmur that followed from the other side of my door.  I found myself  running and throwing my arms around my siblings. Their father just died. Eldest sibling mode engaged. I didn’t even think to cover my breasts. Why would I? He’s finally dead.

Consoling siblings is pretty easy to do, and quite rewarding, I like to think. I just sit there and think of all the nice things I would like said to me if I were unable to contain my sobbing. Gentle rocking. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper with empathetic tears budding up in my eyes. They aren’t my own tears, to be frank. Or aren’t they? He’s finally dead.

My mother’s ostensibly authentic performance of the weeping mother ticks me off. Pisses me the fuck off. What is this effusive display? Did she lose a father? No, she did not. Did I lose a father? Well... no. I did not lose my father. My ex-father died today. Yeah---that sounds better.

365+9 days before, I watched myself block that area code 803 number. He had been my ex-father for years prior, but I held out on severing that last sinew of connection. It was that final voicemail that did the trick. Hearing his voice and my assigned-at-birth name reverberated darkly. A communion of every cell in my body. It’s finally time. Goodbye and good riddance.

Comical symmetry. Comical symmetry that he should finally die nearly a year after I fully moved on. I hope it was painful. I hope he felt a fraction of the pain I felt when he abandoned me all those years ago. A fraction of the pain I felt when he policed me. A fraction of the pain I felt when he abused me. A fraction of my pain. The one he named My Father Lives On.

I hope hell is hot.

Feeling my feelings is good. But I know that anger isn’t all I feel. It’s on top of something more central to my being. My personhood. I gingerly realize that I wish he had loved... me.” - June 21st, 2023

[gutsmear420]

Forged in Regret

The Blacksmith wiped the sweat from his grimy forehead.  A cloudy streak, the byproduct of a long day’s work, smeared across his hand. The oppressive heat from the furnace wrapped around his throat, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs. Yet, he stilled himself to admire this impressive broadsword. It was the pinnacle of four generations of research and, until this moment, he didn’t think he could rise to this awful task. But, God be damned,  he did.

Wind from the valley below slipped between the cracks of the the lodge’s wooden walls. A stream of air slid across the sword with an eerie whine. Oh God, The Blacksmith thought, can it speak? Even now? He gazed upon the hilt. It was adorned with intricate glyphs etched in mammoth tusk. They spelled out the cursed soul’s name. A splendid name, indeed it was. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the blade and flinched.

At twilight, a heavy knock rapped twice upon the door. The Blacksmith regained some of his composure and welcomed a thin, regal figure that loomed in the doorway. He was right on time. The Wretched Prince of Lust entered the forge with a dismissive wave of his hand.  With those terrible yellow eyes, he scanned the room. 

In his icy, weighted voice, The Prince demanded what he had commissioned. The Blacksmith recited the fable he’d rehearsed in the few hours before The Prince’s arrival: Outlaws from the west descended on this humble little hut in the mountains and stole his most valuable weapons, even those he never intended to sell. He risked adding too much detail, but the thought of giving a weapon like that to someone like him turned his guts inside out.

The Prince responded with tragic news of The Blacksmith’s brother, who had been working in The Capital as a baker. He had, most unfortunately, succumbed to The Blood Plague. A slender grin peeled across his face when he offered his condolences. 

The Blacksmith spat a glob of green spit at The Prince’s porcelain face.  A long string of mucus stretched from his chin to his chest before he wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe. He gave a dramatically annoyed sigh and thrust his index finger into The Blacksmith’s forehead. 

Although there was no skin or broken bone, the finger sunk to its third knuckle. As it plunged further, a lifetime’s worth of painful memories forced their way burst through the The Blacksmith’s consciousness. The Prince’s hellish magic scraped across his mind, looking for his precious sword. 

The Blacksmith never figured out how long The Prince had kept him in this state. He was only certain that he screamed long enough for his voice go hoarse. When The Prince found his answer, he threw The Blacksmith aside, bolted toward a pile of commonplace rags, and unearthed the handsome broadsword. He held the killing tool with a tenderness that reminded The Blacksmith of his deceased brother, who must be rotting away in some cheap shroud by now.

“You’re with me, now. Now, and forever…” whispered The Prince.

Executions were normally a time for amusement in the Capital’s town square. However, rumors of The Blacksmith’s impotent act of resistance tainted today’s crowd with a peculiar sense of melancholy. The executioner’s axe, polished and ornate, sliced through his neck. His head popped off with a sickening squelch. 

It rolled, and rolled, and rolled until it stopped at The Prince’s feet, the cursed broadsword leaning faithfully at his side.  The Blacksmith gazed into it with a weak glimmer of defiance lurking behind his lifeless eyes. The soul of The Prince’s secret lover gazed back at The Blacksmith from its captivity within the blade.