tag drop
☠
☠ - angry/violent headcanon
Harry has a short fuse, but the fire burns out quickly. It’s like most things in his life, he puts everything into it for as long as he can, but this type of expenditure isn’t sustainable. He’ll be hell and fury for as long as he can maintain it, but becomes exhausted fairly quickly. There are only a select few grudges he reserves his energy for to keep them burning long.
☼ & ☾
☼ - appearance headcanon
Some would marvel how a man with as many scars as Harry was still standing. Or some might wonder if he just scars easily. Regardless, one fact is true, it seems as is every part of body has at least one scar to mark it, most are faded and not something one would take note of. Even fully clothed, many are visible. A crescent above his brow, a forked line under his jaw, a long stretch starting behind his ear and running down his jugular, all given to him by a left handed man in a tavern. Slices on hands and forearms, accrued from one too many close calls with daggers and longswords. And that’s only the beginning of the list. Most are from mundane tasks and moments in his life. But shh, don’t tell anybody that.
☾ - sleep headcanon
Harry is a light sleeper, but can sleep in almost any position. Most of his nights were spent at his mother’s brothel, sat in a chair in the tavern below, eyes closed but ears primed for any noise of discord.
Chairs, bales of hay, rocky outcrops and river banks all had been called home for Harry’s sleeping body (if laying down, he tends to curl into a surprisingly small ball)
▼ - childhood headcanon
▼ - childhood headcanon
His mother, mainly working at night, would sneak home every morning and wake Harry up with a start. Despite years of this, he never got used to it, but he always forgave her. On clear days, she would wake him and steal him away to a hilltop somewhere or the banks of the Tumblestone and they’d watch the sun begin it’s course throughout the sky. If it was storming, they’d marvel at the lightening dancing above them. And if there were nothing notable about the morning other than how utterly uninteresting the shade of grey the sky was colored, she’d bring him a sweet. Sometimes Harry still wakes with a start, and his eyes dart around, half expecting to see his mother standing over him with her wicked grin.
♡ - romantic headcanon
♡ - romantic headcanon
Harry has never been in love. He thinks he came close, but he could never reach far enough, his fingers never able to grasp it. In dark moments he convinces himself he’s not built for love, to give or receive it, he just doesn’t know how. Any room where love once lived is now dark and vacant, the tenant either having moved on or extinguished the flame of it completely. He’s lowered his expectations at this point, and is hoping that whoever he marries he’ll at least like.