It is funny to me how Harry Potter is literally the main character, yet people tend to go like he didn't suffer that much or he wasn't "abused"; Like, how can one misunderstand the literal main character of the damn franchise?
He wasn't abused; yes okay. He absolutely did not grow up inside a cupboard; the tiny place that is mostly reserved for brooms or cleaning supply. He absolutely was not treated inferior to the other child who lived in the same house. He was totally was not treated like a "freak" or a "stain" that his family was ashamed off. He grew up inside a cupboard while there was a literal unused bed in the same house. And you want to know what that screamed to a child, a baby — who slept inside a cupboard while there being a perfectly usable room right there? You are worth nothing and we don't love you and we are ashamed of what you are.
He wasn't starved, or at least he was fed; Yeah, no. We see it from the first book. How Vernon was no food for you and in the cupboard you go — and by the looks of it, that was like his most common punishment. And then, in the second book — you practically see it happen. He was locked, inside a room with only a can of soup that he shared with Hedwig. Now, tell me what it would do to a child — to be given food through a cat flap, and fun fact? Harry got to eat less than people on war rations; in short? He was starved, yes.
He wasn't abused physically so it's not abuse; As for people's thinks abuse isn't abuse until it's physical (which is inherently wrong because abuse isn't only physically, fyi); Harry has learned to dodge Vernon and he states that, very proudly when his uncle tries to grab him. He dodges a flying pan and states that fact, again very proudly as if it is the norm; do you know how heavy pans are? And do you know what would happen when one hits you? If you want an even clearer proof; Vernon Dursley strangles Harry in Ootp. There you go. Also, in the first book, we clearly see Vernon encouraging Dudley to hit Harry. Read between the lines and actually try to understand what that signifies.
And favourite part; When he wasn't treated like a prisoner, or a freak— he was their servant. And that is very much canonical. Tending Petunia's garden during summers and drinking from the water hose in the garden because of how hot it was? Having to wake up early so he can tend the kitchen and when he wasn't doing all that he is locked away. And it is all canon.
In conclusion, Harry— not only grew up to think that he was inhumane, undeserving of love, a freak that didn't even get to have his own bed because someone like him didn't deserve it, physically harmed enough times that he dodges them out of reflex and also the Dursleys' glorified servant; that is not even taking into account what Harry went through in Hogwarts. And after all that if someone tells me; this child, right here — didn't go through much then well, maybe read the books again?
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The Mask | Jason Todd X Reader
Red Hood X Villain Reader
— in which you, a shy nerdy vigilante/Wayne family obsessed barista- is actually a villain that torments the Red Hood at night.
AU: Soulmate (bc I can)
Rating: Sfw
Note: Y/N is based off of Furina from Genshin bc I thought this would be fun and I saw a prompt somewhere, I think? It’s just my interpretation of it as to not step on anyone's toes!
Also, this isn't really a imagine. It's more of an Idea I was thinking of and needed to get out of my head! So that's why it's kind of not finished? Most of my stuff is WIPs anyway so this isn't really new.
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You were a popular villain.
People loved you. Maybe not the theft and distraction you caused but hey- we all have flaws? “I will teach this city the true meaning of Justice!” You’d boldly claim standing on the stage that was Gotham city’s tallest building- scarily close to the edge. “Join me- and together we’ll cleanse this city of its evil and corrupt ways!” You’d state so boldly.
You loved for the attention, the lights- cameras and reporters. That’s why the red hood could only shake his head. Another psychopath spewing their ideology like it should be praised- like it was the absolute truth.
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t.
The world wasn’t black and white enough for an ideology to trump all the others and ‘cleanse this city’. Fuck, not this city- not even close. Gotham was just in too deep. Too much crime, too much of a drug problem or a poverty problem- too much of everything. The joker was a prime example of that. The evil of this city boiled up into one twisted person… Anyway, you were an attention seeker, classic villain profile. Does it for attention- maybe mommy or daddy didn’t give you enough love? It didn’t matter. What happened was you were breaking the law and Jason was still on Bruce’s keep an eye on list. So, he’d keep his hands off the bigger more horrible criminals.
Still sometimes, only sometimes, he'd find himself listening a little too closely to your ideals- Like you believed in the death penalty for Gotham hardest to kill roach: The joker.
So, while Red Hood was chasing you... Well, it'd started off small, you’d steal from the rich of Gotham- sometimes even Bruce Wayne himself. -Those days Jason found himself chasing after you slower, not that he’d admit that. It was a classic Robin Hood situation and Jason… didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand you were breaking the law, in the other, power to the people. Eat the rich.
Jason knew how it felt to grow up struggling so too see you helping people? It was almost nice.
What annoyed him though was your loud, for the people persona. “I will judge all of Gotham! Batman himself can’t escape my judgment!” Okay, slow down… you were fast and agile, but Batman would be able to catch you. And if Jason really put his back into it, he could too. Still, that never stopped you from making bold claims. It garnered attention, it was bold and daring and just what the people wanted. Your ideal matched up with what so many people were fed up with the batman for.
Eventually your behavior began to escalate. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the Bats eyes from you. “This is a cult...” He muttered while he hides away on the roof of an abandoned building you holed your followers up in for a speech.
“My loyal follower!” You’d greet them with a smile and a bow. You’d put in stage performances. Sometimes with Jason, except he never knew, and the performance was just you and him fighting on the stage. Most days, some days it seemed it was just you acting and being alive on that large stage. Others you were preaching your words to the cult your loyal followers. You were building an empire and catching the attention of other criminals.
An empire that while he agreed with, went against the bats no kill rule. The longer you stood on that stage the less safe from the bat you were.
And no matter how much he wanted to agree with you, a small part of him still wanted... something from batman. You would be an issue.
“How much longer do I have to do this…?”
Red hood was no detective, but he was raised by the greatest one. So, while he was lacking in that department compared to the rest of his family (Even if it was just by a smidge.) He still noticed how after a speech or a fight- your smile, no, your persona dropped.
It was a persona you probably garnered for attention.
but still...
So how…
…That just didn’t make sense.
“Can I have your autograph…? Please?” A civilian would ask shyly, hiding behind a Batman themed phone case with a Robin themed charm hanging from that same phone.
The worst part of it all? You didn’t ask for the Red Hoods autograph. You asked for Jason Todd’s autograph, you were a fan of the Wayne’s. Gotham's golden family. No actually, it was the way you jumped up and down eagerly when you thought he was far enough way and did a dumb victory dance.
He sighed and leaned against the alleys stone wall as he watched you leave. A sense of worry invaded his mind as he watched you in your nerdy and totally lame Superman shirt walking away. All while staring at your phone.
He was surprised you recognized him. He was never in the public spotlight- maybe here and there when he was younger. Not now, not anymore. His death and how vague it was left question. Ones people didn’t ask when he wasn’t there, dangling in front of them like bait to a fish, they’d ask why and how and while they had a cover up: One the bat, the world's greatest detective made up. It still was messy. You must be a real fan.
He wasn’t even sure if that was really you…
It had to be though, there was no mistaking it. So, with your civilian name in his head, he walked back home.
“…so… lonely…” `
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I think we Khan do it if we try (dp x dc)
Danny’s well-deserved Sunday of rest was interrupted by the sound of their doorbell ringing throughout the house. With barely a mumble, Danny cracked an eye open, observed it was much too early to be awake, and burrowed back in the covers.
He was brutally ripped away from sleep once again when the stupid doorbell rang again. With a groan, Danny rolled to the side as his brain slowly started to churn again. And with it, he slowly remembered that both Jazz and their parents had said they’d be out for the morning, which meant he was the only one home.
The doorbell rang for the third time, and Danny gave up the idea of out-stubborning whoever was at the front door. Through much effort, he managed to drag himself to the front door, and slam the door open on two older teenager/young adults, with one of them his hand raised and poised to ring a fourth time, and the other holding onto the guy’s wrist. Both of them, their eyes wide in surprise.
“Who’s it?” Danny yawned out as he leaned against the doorframe.
“Is this the residence of Madeleine Walker?” One of the guys asked, while looking suspiciously around as if he wasn’t expecting a positive answer.
“Yeah. Who’re you,” Danny mumbled, as he fought to keep his eyes open.
“I’m Bruce and I want to learn all that I can from Master Walker,” The other guy, with the darker hair said.
“Doctor,” Danny corrected as he rubbed at his eyes, his brain feeling like it was working through molasses. “And it’s Fenton.”
The lighter haired guy took over smoothly with a smirk towards the other guy, who’s jaw tightened in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. “Anton,” he introduced himself, “I’ve come to seek Dr. Fenton’s guidance as I have done with masters of the craft from all over the world.”
Danny squinted as he struggled to make sense of the string of words coming out of the guy’s mouth. “What, so you guys are, like, exchange students?”
The lighter-haired guy opened his mouth, only to be elbowed in the gut by the darker-haired dude, but Danny was too busy trying to remember if there had been any talk of an exchange student recently. He knew his parents had considered it and even applied, but the house hadn’t passed muster for the committee’s criteria, which fair enough. Maybe they’d reconsidered? Danny sighed. Whatever, it was too early for this.
“Alright,” the halfa said. The room his parents had set up was still ready and they had applied. It wouldn’t be too surprising if his parents had forgotten to inform Jazz and him of the newcomers, or just forgotten about them altogether. “Alright come in.”
“And don’t forget to take off your shoes,” Danny added as he led them into the house, “mom hates when we walk on the carpets with them on.”
With his back to the two man, Danny missed the alarmed look they gave each other. “Mom?” He could hear one of them whisper to themself.
Weeks later, Danny would come to regret that decision with every fiber of his being.
“Mo-om, the exchange students are fighting again!”
“Leave them be, Jazz,”
“But mom, they’re blocking the way to the bathroom!”
Danny clenched his eyes shut as he tried to stuff his ears harder.
Still better than the time he’d caught them both half-naked and wrestling on their front lawn like a couple of insane people.
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