it's so funny to me when i see pearl-clutching articles about how "teenagers are diagnosing themselves with mental disorders via tiktok" because like. this is not happening in a vacuum. teenagers are severely and i mean severely medically neglected. i cannot stress this enough. teenagers do not have free access to medical care. those same news outlets would be clowning on women with housewife psychosis in the 1950's.
i sometimes go pale when listening to some of what my friends have gone through in their childhoods and teenagehoods. they talk about it so nonchalantly, things that would be considered straight up torture if done to an adult, can't fathom the effect this has on children. they are on multiple anti-psychotics and several antidepressants and anxiety meds now that they are adults. medical neglect has legally and effectively disabled them. a timely diagnosis and intervention could have saved them.
of course teenagers are self-diagnosing using tiktok. if your knee-jerk reaction is to scoff at the idea and dismiss it as dumb teenager shit instead of being radicalized because the best shot young people have at attaining the mental health support they need is a fucking dancing videos app, you're categorically a political enemy of the youth.
It's me, ya girl, back at it again with more random headcanons.
This time I'll indulge a slight sprinkle of the angsty side in me, and a garnish of some crackcanons!
So far I've got (and I'm not even joking, shout-out to my notes app for being my accomplice) 70 topics I want to write about ranging from headcanons, drabbles, and one shots. Writer's block who? We don't associate with her. I say for now.
Tags: SFW, brief mentions of reader with traumas/issues with touch, PTSD mentions, Jester shouldering everything, a caring Harlequin??
The Freak Circus is an 18+ Visual novel Themes include but are not limited to: dark elements, strong language, sensitive graphic content. My works can depict similar themes and are not intended for minors.
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Pierrot
Knows multiple versions of sign language, including the other members of the troupe! Ever since his incident that caused his ban on public speaking it's his main form of communication in front of prying eyes. The other members vary fluency in sign language, but Harlequin is surprisingly just as versed as Pierrot. It makes his day when he runs into someone who can also sign back to him and if you know sign? He's not able to comprehend how but he falls more in love with you. Often defaulting to sign until he misses your voice too much.
He's an excellent singer but often loses control of his power. He'll reluctantly sing if you ask him enough, this being one of the very rare things you have to pressure him on. The second he is able to tell his power is activating he'll go mute, one of his worst fears is hurting you and it's immensely careless of him to forget his capabilities. After a few talks and compromises he's more willing to hum along to songs with you, although he'd find himself too distracted by your voice to keep up.
100% will want you to give him Ted talks on your special interests, it doesn't matter what they could be, he wants you to teach him. He listens to you intently as you ramble, his eyes lighting up with your excitement as you gradually become comfortable. He finds you most attractive when you're happily explaining something you seemingly know everything about. He's the type to ask engaging questions and actually looks more into the topic on his own. You'll never feel like you're info dumping with Pierrot.
It's no surprise when you're at work Pierrot will make his way into your apartment. The first few times he enters he'll sheepishly snoop through your belongings as an attempt to learn more about you. Looking in your fridge to see what you like to eat and peering into your closet to see what you wear outside of work (shamefully sneaking a peek at any lingerie you might have only to get overwhelmed). He did his best to leave your home how he found it, although occasionally he'll do some of your chores if he sees them piling up. You never really noticed the dishes being cleaned and put away after a grueling shift, or how your laundry was magically cleaned and folded.
It's no surprise that Pierrot is gullible to a fault. If you tell him gullible is in the ceiling he will absolutely look for any signs of writing. What is a surprise is that he's only so gullible with the people he trusts. He's very empathetic when it comes to subtle tone shifts and voice fluctuations. He can always tell when something is bothering you or if you're having a bad mental day. He won't prod you unless it's clearly an ongoing issue he's noticing, but it comes from a place of concern for you. If it's trauma he wants to know about it, if it's something that happened, he wants to know about it, if it's something he did? He needs to know about it. Depending on the topic of the issue at hand, he's comforting and understanding, but if someone caused you pain, no matter how small... He can think of a few more acts for them to participate in.
Harlequin
Absolutely learned sign to mess with Pierrot, even going as far as purposefully signing wrong to confuse and irritate him. If you don't know sign he'll teach you, although I would double check the meanings.
He will absolutely not sing for you if you ask him, often redirecting the request back at you. If you pressure him enough however he'll give you a performance you would pay him to retire. Purposefully signing out of key, getting the words wrong to an infuriating degree, and then feigning ignorance when you question him. Although on rare occasions when you catch him unwinding you can hear him gently singing to himself, his actual voice serenading anyone foolish enough to wander too close, truly a siren's student. On the same note, if you have a hard time sleeping at night he's not above gently singing you a song from his childhood until you drift off, just don't comment on it in a teasing manner or he'll burn the bridge between you two.
Often has a really hard time falling asleep. His mind tends to get the better of him when he's alone with his thoughts for too long and he tends to spiral. He usually takes some medication from the Doctor to ease him into rest but occasionally he'll forget, leading to hours upon hours of tossing and turning. Self loathing, PTSD from the past, all the way to frantic delusions and what-if scenarios all haunt his mind to the point of varying breakdowns. Usually when nights get this bad he'll use his tendrils to climb up into the high beams of his tent as a comfort. The height consoling him with protection from any threats from below, as well as concealing him in the absence of any light.
Same as Pierrot, Harlequin is no stranger to the layout of your apartment. Once the coast was clear of Pierrot, he would make his way into your apartment, although for nefarious reasons. He'll raid your pantry and fridge of snacks, occasionally even leaving less than a portion left just to upset you. He'll snoop through any of your keepsakes and albums, pocketing anything damning. Your closet definitely isn't safe from his rummaging either. Making a beeline for your intimates just to see what kind of view to expect when he does manage to get you all to himself, (yes he pockets a couple pairs as "souvenirs"). Any "shoebox under the bed" toys are absolutely exposed to the light of day. Examining his competition and smirking at the blaring size difference between the silicone and the real thing. You can absolutely tell someone's been in your home, but can't tell if it's been raided by a thief or a certain green goblin, as if there was a difference.
Harlequin is a professional at reading body language. Your subconscious and him have very in depth conversations all the time. Your eyes momentarily breaking eye contact, you reaching for the hem of your shirt, the way your shoulders tense at certain noises. Because he can read your body so well he knows when he can push boundaries and when to back off. But if he notices something too familiar for his liking he'll prod you on it. "Oh? Does someone not like their shoulders touched? I wonder why that is... Are you scared of me, my dear? Or is it something deeper?" If it's something serious he feels like an absolute ass. Often trying to change the subject or opting to just leave you alone, depending on the location of the talk he might take a more gentle tone, his eyes searching for more answers from your body, his grin inverting to a concerning frown, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Jester
He often forgets that not everyone can speak the same language, especially if you become a regular visitor in the troupe. He talks to his family in his mother tongue which is technically an honor when he tries to talk to you in Portuguese. Your confused face forcing him to visibly reset and rephrase what he said in "simpler terms". Because of this get used to conversations you're not invited to, sometimes pertaining to you well within earshot. If you manage to pick this up though he'll change your name into another petname, occasionally changing it up to keep you guessing.
If you do know Portuguese though, he'll accidentally let a genuine grin slip. It's thrilling to have a conversation with someone when the general population can't understand it. However, if he needs to talk about you with another member of the troupe in front of you he'll change the language to something completely different almost instantaneously. He and the troupe have been nearly around the world and have learned a plethora of languages to accommodate this, he will find one you're unfamiliar with to gossip about you with.
I think I mentioned it before but Jester is definitely the spokesperson for the circus. He handles any and all business dealing often bringing Bil along for any contract negotiations. The one thing he refuses to show you is any dealings with fellow monsters. Monster kind often poorly mimics the civility of business dealings and can often lead to unsightly skirmishes if tensions get too high. Jester learned how to use his silver tongue to gain the upper hand in situations like these, a challenging skill he built over the years of "coexisting" with humans.
Jester tends to perform routine checks on all of the fools throughout the day. Gauging their usefulness and "enthusiasm" and changing them out as needed. Some remain in the circus's employment for longer than expected, others either break free from their "contracts" or develop health issues. Humans are both annoyingly strong and pitifully weak. He equates this task to a filthy chore that must be done and is his responsibility alone.
He's routinely the last to retire for the night and he prefers it this way. Before his final walk around the grounds with Bil he always makes an effort to check in with the rest of his family. Always asking if there were any problems with their performances, any additions they would like to add, any complaints to air out, the regular debriefing anyone would expect from a leader. Depending on the answers of the troupe, he'll press into more personal matters. Pierrot's obsession with you, Harlequin's noticeable disappearances, Doctor's struggle for understanding humans. As much as he hates it, he does identify as a strong pillar of the circus. The troupe's survival ultimately relies on his ability to decide how to interact with humans. His nights are long primarily due to his constant game of chess with humanity, one that he would fight until his last breath to win.
Ticket Taker
Prefers to work on book balancing with someone nearby, whether that be other troupe members or going to a cafe to work. The background noise of everyday life keeps the unpleasant static of worry at bay. Even if he's alone late at night accounting he turns on a radio not caring what station it's on, often just leaving it on all night to help him rest without the past creeping up on him.
Often hums as a form of self soothing if there's not adequate background noise. He defaults to classical music or oldies that played on the radio once upon a time. On rare occasions if you're lucky, he'll hum uncharacteristic pop songs, claiming they're too catchy.
Will routinely traverse every town, silently observing routines as well as traditions of the townsfolk around. Making mental notes of any shops of interest or potential business partnerships. If an outing takes longer than expected he always makes sure to get the troupe a treat, whether it be food from a local restaurant, treats from a convenient store, or even a few coffee orders from a certain cafe.
Always keeps his mind/hands busy. If he's taking a break at his desk he's known to fold intricate origami, often able to make complex interactive pieces. If taking a mental break from checking in guests or in between his mirror shows you can often find him with themed crossword puzzles and even sudoku books. Constantly filling book upon book over the course of his downtime.
Him and Jester both are the primary ones to walk around the perimeter of the circus assuring security and integrity of the grounds. Often using this as an end of the day summary and a way to make preparations for the following days ahead, making mental lists of needs and possible new attractions. Sometimes these nights lead to a well needed venting session between the two of them, sometimes consoling each other about possible worries or ugly reminders of the past. These are the most sacred times of the day for the two of them, the day just isn't complete without this routine walk on the grounds.
Doctor
Since he canonically sleeps the least among the troupe, I can definitely see him taking advantage of the midnight hours. His frame and general appearance often make it difficult to explore the town efficiently without causing a scene. Donning casual clothes he wanders around the town, taking notes of anything intriguing to him, mostly the stray animal population. He has a fascination with cats and often will take scraps of subjects meat with him to bribe them closer. He's content with just observing them, diagraming their anatomy, annotating their behaviors, and hypothesizing their origins/routines. Though, he hasn't gotten lucky enough to receive any headbutts.
Absolutely can death metal scream, despite the peace of mind of Jester. Whenever a really bad yawn takes hold he'll let a gutteral metal scream rip for as long as the yawn has him hostage. Other times he'll use it as a way to clear a path through the circus if his towering height doesn't do it already. Will be absolutely thrilled to teach you how to scream, oh and I guess learn how to metal scream.
He's very blunt when it comes to sensitive topics. He just doesn't see any point in beating around bushes when he can just ask for a straightforward answer. This means he has no issue with asking sensitive questions seemingly out of left field. "You seem bloated. When was your last bowel movement." Or "You tend to flinch when I reach for your left side, why is that? Was it a previous experience?" This makes any kind of privacy about your life rare, although he knows when to stop his questioning if you get too uncomfortable. Especially relating to any topics relating to abuse or assault. He takes a surprisingly gentle approach to such themes. "You can tell me when you're ready, I won't prod at something that you refuse to share on your own. I will find out one way or another though, that is a promise, my sweetie."
Often will send TT with a list of lab equipment to keep an eye out for on his shopping trips. Anywhere from griffin beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks, and even a 316L Stainless Steel Reactor, which obviously was unobtainable. He was great at improvising and engineering his own complex equipment but the ease of simplification with expensive equipment was a nice pipe dream of his.
It's no surprise that he's the circus' muscles, he takes a bit of pride in it after all. This means that he has to work out in order to maintain that fearsome aura. In his free time in between experiments you can find him training his muscles as well as his mind. His extensive knowledge on muscle groups and nutrition can technically classify him as a gym rat. Although he'd never give you unsolicited gym advice, but unsolicited biological/scientific advice? That's as easy as breathing.
Part 1: here , Part 2: here , Part 3: here , Part 4: You’re here! , Part 5: here
No forgiveness ending: Part 1: here
CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family, Reader x Conner “Kon-El” Kent (romantic.). Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest
TW: Heavy Angst, a lot of crying, abuse in the form of neglect, pregnancy, Reader briefly expresses regret for existing
Theres a beat of silence after your husband came crashing through the window, minus the sound of your own sobs, you’re too overwhelmed to focus on the crash after all you just found out the people who neglected you, apparently they had done it all to protect you. Even when it wasn’t something you asked to be protected from. You missed out on so many things normal families did and now all it did was leave you scarred, untrusting with deep attachment issues and currently sobbing on the floor surrounded by glass that your husband shattered to get to you.
“CONNER?” Yells Tim in pure shock, which finally makes you finally look up and towards the crash. There, Conner Kent, your husband stood. He was clearly in shock, his soulmate who was pregnant with his child is kneeling on the floor, eyes a soft red and face all puffy as tears slip down. Meanwhile his best friend’s family is staring at said soulmate on the floor awkwardly.
When you see him you honestly cry harder, finally you’re not alone surrounded by people who supposedly loved you but someone who did truly care, and wouldn’t go fucking up your life, at least not without asking first.
“Please take me home Conner…” you sob choking on your own words as you stare at him desperately. Hearing you speak snaps him out of his shock, perhaps on autopilot he picks you up, making sure you are shielded away from your family. “Sorry dude, I’ll… text later. Maybe.” He says solemnly speaking to Tim but he still only looks at you. Tim goes to say something but before he can Conner is gone instantly, leaving behind one stunned bat family.
Conner flies through the sky still holding a sobbing you as he gently whispers “hey.. hey, it’s okay I’ve got you now. You’re safe.” in an attempt to soothe you and himself as well.
He knew you were like him, had family issues and weren’t loved quite right. Perhaps that’s how you guys bonded so fast, shared trauma is a powerful bonding agent. But he never knew who exactly they were, he knew you didn’t want to talk about it and he respected that. When he met you, you had your mother’s last name before taking his, so he never even had the slightest idea Bruce Wayne was your father. Also didn’t help Tim never once mentioned your name, unlike the other siblings he’d call by name, Tim referred to you only as “My other sibling.” on the rare occasions he did allude to you existing.
If he could get a headache right now he would, unfortunately(?) due to Kryptonian things he can’t. As he’s flying he thinks briefly before landing at your shared home ‘Damn what the hell is going on.’
You don’t remember what happened the rest of the night when you got home, you only remember continuously sobbing and a worried Conner trying his best to soothe you all for it to fail. It was so bad when Conner put you down on the couch to get you some water, when you tried to stand you just fell to your knees only able to lean on the couch as support, holding onto it like it’ll somehow save you. Perhaps all the suppressed emotions came flooding, a life time of being strong to have it crumble.
the years of watching your supposed siblings hanging out but it almost disbanding when you tried to join,
the months of drawings about your supposed father holding your small hand left unlooked,
the weeks of wondering if maybe you prayed hard enough someone would hug you
and the days of wondering if you would’ve been better off at the orphanage, or better yet never been born at all.
Now suddenly they did it for your sake? All the missed moments? You want to laugh and scream. The irony of thinking it’s better to neglected a child than to tell said child the truth. You feel Conner put a reassuring hand on your back gently rubbing when he hands you the glass of water, you push it away. You just need to cry, not water. He seems to understand putting it to the side on the hard wood floor and instead choosing to be a comforting presence while you cry.
You cry and sob for hours, unable to stop. Even when it slows down enough for Conner to finally get you to drink some water, urge you to change into your pjs because it was close to dawn now and you hadn’t slept a bit, you can still feel the tears rolling down. You think you must’ve passed out from crying because the last thing you remember seeing was Conner’s worried face like he would’ve cried too and now you’re looking at the sunrise peak through the blinds.
You sit up and sit on the edge of the bed looking down you feel dull and empty, like the entire world suddenly decided to drain itself of all joy and leave you with nothing. As you get up you pass the shared floor length mirror, when you look at yourself, all you can think of is how you look like a husk of a person. To be expected, you did go through something emotionally taxing and you did cry a lot so it makes sense your eyes look empty.
You can smell burnt pancakes. It seems Conner is trying to bake again…
As you enter the kitchen you can see the pile of burnt pancakes on a plate he prepared. Conner gives you an awkward smile as he looks at you and the pancakes, “In hindsight it’s a lot different to use heat vision than the stove.” You pause staring at him and then at the pancakes again, he looks nervous before he clarifies “they’re still edible I promise…”
A smile spreads across your face before you begin to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Somehow you laugh so hard it morphs into crying again when you threw your head back in a fit of laughter. Conner’s relieved face at you laughing turns to worry again as he floats over quickly to have you in his arms.
You cry your eyes out into Conner’s shirt as he holds you tight against him. “Hey, it’s okay, we are going to be okay.” Conner says gently rubbing your back supportively.
“I just can’t believe for such a stupid reason they shut me out!” You weep into your hands, the tears almost collecting in your palms as you finally start speaking. “But at the same time I.. I sort of get it? and it’s frustrating because… I don’t know! Cause it feels like now I don’t have the right to complain or just be upset anymore!” You shout frustrated by everything and all the emotions you’re feeling merging together to create one big storm. “Perhaps it’s somehow my fault—“ you mumble softly before you’re cut off by Conner.
Conner grabs you face and makes you look at him before you can finish, his face solemn as he speaks “You have every right to complain, even if they had good fucking intentions it still hurt. And that sucks.” His face scrunches a bit from sadness at frustration. “Don’t say stuff like it’s your fault. It’s not and I won’t let them demean the one good thing I have in my life.” He gently taps the side of your face before sadly smiling at you and your teary eyed face.
You chuckle softly. You want to cry more but you don’t feel like crying when you remember that Conner loves you and even if you don’t have a father or siblings like you wanted, you still have your adoring, handsome, funny, charismatic husband and an adorable child-to-be-born that’ll have your amazing looks and his personality. It may not have been the family you always wanted as a kid but it’s what you want and need now, and that’s all that matters.
“Hey, Let’s spend today in bed and order food the entire day.” You say smiling at him your face still feels a bit weird after all that crying.
“Sounds good… but are we not going to eat my pancakes?” He teases
“I love you, but not enough that I’d eat actual ash for you.”
“Oh wow so you don’t love me anymore?” Conner replies clutching his chest dramatically before taking a step back to lean himself the table like he’s dying. To which you roll your eyes.
“Okay that’s NOT what I said. Anyways I’m going to rest in bed, come join after you finished ordering breakfast and being dramatic.” You remarked before you walk away and into the bedroom to wait for him, you knew he wouldn’t be long.
Meanwhile the entire bat fam is FREAKING. Damian is arguing with both Tim and Grayson to which Barbara has to try and break it up, Bruce is sat on the couch (not having moved since last night) covering his face as he tries to ponder where it all went wrong, Stephanie is pacing around anxiously, Alfred is trying to repair the window which was supposedly shatterproof but unfortunately ‘shatterproof’ isn’t a concept that exists for the supers, Jason is shrugging and saying “I told you this would happen.” (He didn’t.) and everyone else is scattered about some watching the argument, trying to brainstorm to a silent brooding Bruce or trying to help fix the window.
Eventually they would all have to begin brainstorming on what to do next, how to repair it all and get you to forgive them. Right now is time for panic.
"hur hur gabe wasn't as abusive as he was in the books" people can all shut up. percy's jaw TREMBLED when ares yelled at him, which had nothing at all to do with his god status - percy backtalks gods just fine. he had trauma response to ares yelling. ares didn't so much as lift a finger. that goes to speak volumes about what percy was experiencing at home
I miss childhood. Just not my childhood. I miss the experiences I was meant to have. I miss the small glimpses in which I lived somewhat nice, average childhood experiences.
I miss all that I never had and I wish I could go back and have it.
But if I were able to do so, I wouldn't do it. I don't think I would survive all of that again.
