HALSIN HEADCANONS

✿HALSIN HEADCANONS✿

his love language involves touch, a quiet yearning, and deep respect

soft touches

despite their size and strength, his hands are surprisingly delicate and warm; he's a healer after all. when he's massaging your sore neck, his eyes are focused, and his moves are skilful, leaving you melting under his caring touch

on the flip side Halsin finds deep joy in the tender act of having his hair played with, often gently humming or dozing off during this exchange

also he gives you a lot of tender kisses on your shoulder from behind, saying he loves you

yearning and worshipping

he loves to cherish you with his words, but I feel that at heart, Halsin is a silent watcher, always observing, always admiring. his eyes full of admiration, never cease to appreciate the beauty before him

there is no shame with him; he'd be truly devastated if you hid anything from him, as he adores your body, viewing it as a *nature gift*

with him, you're free to be yourself because he sees more than just your body. whether you are small or big in size, whether you have pubic hair or not, and regardless of your gender, he doesn't care about these

absolutely, one thing that genuinely matters to him is that you have a healthy body; it's something he sees and cares about

if you're a woman, he might be particularly drawn to wider hips. they seem to resonate with his druidic connection to nature and the cycle of life, evoking a sense of fertility that he finds appealing

the allure of nature sparks a fire within him. your naked body glistening in the river's, skin shining under the sun or moonlight, makes him easily aroused . in close embrace, his hot passion manifests, as you are feeling something hard and willing against your thigh...

sex

well, let me just say it that it's hard to make Halsin shy

he's into breeding and can play for a long time if you know what I mean

he couldn't get enough of you at times, restless whenever near you

he's strong, and this strength often manifests in bed. he enjoys experimenting with positions that require physical power, effortlessly lifting you as if you weighed nothing

also very open to trying new things, as long as both you and he are comfortable with it (mutual respect- remember?). would never force you to do something you don't like, he would hate to make you uncomfortable like this

if you were pregnant he would be aroused all the time seeing your swollen belly, symbol of your fertility

from time to time he takes you rough from behind

making a lot of noises, loud ones, almost animalistic. his head bowed and groaning straight into your ear, making your feral

if you were pregnant he would be aroused all the time seeing your swollen belly

after all, he enjoys having you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your sweaty skin against his, and he always wakes up before you ready for another round or sweet cuddles, bye :')

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡

creature of the night

Summary: You're just a toy in Tom's world, yet love has found its way into your heart

Warnings: Explicit content (18+), manipulative Tom

Word Count: 2,500

Author's Note: The irony is, I detest guys like this in the real world, but there's a strange satisfaction in writing stories about Tom’s character. There’s a hate-love relationship between us, well… enjoy the ride

also! you can read this on ao3 if you prefer it that way ♡

(gif originally posted by voldemrt)

meet me tonight

The note said, with its neatly arranged letters. It held a promise that made your heart feel heavy and light at the same time as you were both excited and scared of what was to come. With Tom you could never be certain. Sometimes he made you feel like you belong, he made you feel seen. Other times he made you feel lonely, despite holding you in his arms. 

As if he wasn't there, not truly present, and it hurt, but you didn’t tell a word. 

You stared at the note blankly for a moment, finding it delicately placed on top of your pillow. The ritual was familiar – Tom's passion for leaving these little messages. They surfaced under the weight of your books, nestled in the pocket of your mantle, or discreetly positioned on your favourite desk in the library. His proficiency in crafting subtle messages left you perpetually anticipating the next one, creating a secret language between you two. Each note, a whispered promise, held significance beyond its written words.You carefully stored each note in a small wooden box, coming back to them when you feel particularly romantic or in the quiet moments, after yet another day where Tom treated you as if you didn't exist. The paradox of his presence and absence, the silent yearning  and the allure of his elusive messages painted a complex portrait of your twisted relationship.

The daylight stretches endlessly, but the promise of our night brings a spark to the hours

In the quiet secrecy of the night, you found solace in the secret meetings with Tom. His warm embrace, soft smiles, and gentle touches became familiar, creating an intimate haven that seemed to belong to just the two of you. In those stolen moments, you felt as if you had unraveled the layers of his complex persona, knowing him in a way that no one else did.

Yet, the illusion shattered in the harsh light of day. As the sun illuminated the hallways of Hogwarts, revealing its secrets and concealing its mysteries, Tom transformed. The tender moments you shared in the hidden corners of the castle were replaced by a cold indifference. It was as if the encounters of the night had never happened, as if he were a stranger passing you by in the endless corridors.

In the common room, amidst the chatter of fellow students, he glanced through you as though you wasn’t there. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now held an unpleasant distance, leaving you to question whether the tender exchanges between you had been nothing more than fragments of a dream.

It was a paradoxical, the dichotomy between the intimacy of the night and the detachment of the day. Tom's dual nature left you grappling with the unsettling reality that the person who whispered sweet promises under the moonlight seemed oblivious to your existence in the harsh light of day. The dissonance between these two versions of him became a puzzle, and you found yourself entangled in the endless shifts of his demeanour.

The secrecy of your relationship took a toll, and the contrast between the Tom who held you in the darkness and the one who ignored you in the light became a source of inner mayhem. The warmth of his touch lingered in your memory, but the chill of his indifference left you yearning for consistency. You couldn't help but wonder which version of Tom was the real one, and whether the night held the truth or the day.

The Hogwarts walls stood as silent sentinels, enveloped in an air of mystery, as if holding the secrets of centuries within their stone embrace. The night, full of shadows and cold whispers. The path, winding and labyrinthine, demanded caution, the necessity to watch your back a constant reminder of the precarious nature of your secret escapades.

Yet, every step, every twist and turn, seemed a worthwhile investment, for at the end of this nocturnal journey awaited Tom. He sat there, perched on the couch in the Room of Requirements, immersed in the ethereal glow of dim light. His brows were furrowed as he was bending over the book. It was late, but Tom, a creature of the night, was indifferent to the demands of sleep, his insatiable curiosity fuelling his restless mind.

In the play of shadows, his jawline emerged as if sculpted from marble, each contour a testament to the divine craftsmanship of otherworldly hands. Cheekbones, sharp and pronounced, echoed the elegance of classical statuary. His hair, a cascade of raven black, seemed to absorb the darkness of the night. Divine. Surely, he didn’t belong to this world.

As you approached, the air crackled with an otherworldly energy. The Room of Requirement seemed to come alive in his presence. In this nocturnal realm, Tom beckoned like a magnetic force, drawing you into a world where magic intertwined with mystery, and the boundaries between reality and enchantment blurred.

When he noticed you, time seemed to pause. His gaze made your insides clenched, a strange monster clawing at your stomach, reaping you apart. 

“You came,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into smile.

“Yes, yes… of course I came.”

“Good,” he murmured, standing up and reaching for you. His lips met the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his touch left you breathless. Lifting you effortlessly, he held you close, your legs entwining above his hips. Your heads were now on the same level, and he kissed you passionately, each touch leaving a lingering sensation. His lips trailed along your neck, his hair and tongue teasing your delicate skin. Tom guided you to a secluded corner, settling on the leather couch with you still in his arms. The shadows flickered and danced on the walls, a silent play of darkness and light in the dimly lit room. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, embracing him tightly. It felt like where you were meant to be. It felt right. 

“I thought of you all this time, couldn’t wait for you to come, you know that, darling?” Tom inquired, his voice smooth, yet calculated. His eyes bore into yours once again, attempting to unravel the thoughts hidden behind your gaze. Not much could escape him; he could see right through you. You looked away, a bashful smile playing on your lips.

“I couldn't wait either,” you admitted, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and excitement. He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re too sweet. What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his hands gently resting on your thighs, a subtle pressure against your skin.

“And what do you want to do with me?” Your mind was starting to get hazy. All you could think about was the anticipation building with his eager hands.

“Everything, I want everything,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and seductive, carrying a hint of desire and... possession. The room seemed to shrink, and your head started to fill with dreams. He wanted you.

The warmth of the fire, the gentle caress of Tom's fingers on your skin, and the intoxicating scent of the room created a heady atmosphere. You were captivated, caught in the web of his allure. As Tom's hands continued their exploration, a tingling warmth spread through your body. The flickering flames cast playful shadows, dancing across the walls. The rhythmic crackling of the fire was the only melody in this secret meetings in the middle of the deepest of night.

His fingers, cool yet masterful, traced patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in their wake. The touch, possessive and tender, spoke a language only the two of you understood. Time lost its meaning. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the symphony of sensations.

Tom's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice like a seductive melody, weaving a spell around you. The possessiveness in his tone ignited a flame within, a dangerous thrill that both scared and excited you. As he held you close, you felt a magnetic pull, binding you to him in a dance of forbidden longing. As stolen moments unfolded, a haunting question lingered: Why couldn't he be wholly yours? The wish to unravel his secrets, to see him in the unfiltered light swept through your every emotion.

As his lips fervently sought yours, a surge of unrestrained need flowed between you, each kiss a profound declaration of a passion that defied reason. Tom, with an intensity that bordered on desperation, cradled your face in his hands. The kiss that ensued was all-consuming. His eyes were hungry, a desire for more.

In that suspended moment, the world outside ceased to exist. You found yourself entangled in the harmony of interwoven tongues and intertwined breaths, a magnetic force pulling you deeper into the forbidden. The air around you crackled with the electricity of shared longing, and every kiss became a vow, a binding promise of the undiscovered intensity yet to unfold.

As the urgency of the moment heightened, so did your willingness to surrender to him.

Tom’s hands traveled to your shirt. His movements were deliberate as he was yielding each button to his touch as if surrendering to his command. You felt the fabric parts, revealing the vulnerability beneath. Tom’s expression remaining composed. As the last button succumbed to his fingers, a rush of cold air met your exposed skin. His hands traced a path along the newly revealed expanse, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The room seemed to pulse with a quiet intensity.

“You’re exquisite,” he whispered, his voice low and laden. Time seemed to stretch, and you found yourself suspended in a space where only two of you existed. 

When Tom started sucking on your nipple, a soft whimper came out of your lips. He smiled softly at your response and showed no intention of stopping. His actions continued with

unyielding determination, his tongue hot and wet on your willing breasts. His hands all over your exposed body, tracing patterns on your soft skin, making you lose your mind, making you forget yourself and forget all these bright days spent without him. With skilled fingers Tom unbuttoned your skirt, taking it off in one swift movement, leaving you almost naked, while he remained fully clothed, a stoic figure in his unchanging black attire, a stark contrast to the vulnerability he teased from you with every touch. You wanted to touch him too, make him feel as good as you felt yet your yearning to caress Tom was met with a playful denial, as he savoured the moments of teasing, drawing out the anticipation. 

His fingers exploring the thin material of your underwear, the gentle touches felt as light as a feather, igniting a trail of sensations. Relentlessly, he continued as his hands grew bolder and bolder. Silver rings on his fingers warm on your skin. Oh, how you wanted him inside you already. To feel him in the most intimate way possible. “Please, Tom,” you moaned, and started to grind on the bulge in his pants, desperate for more, fire running through your veins. At this point it was a pure torture, not to have Tom inside you.

With surprising ease, Tom flipped you onto your back, unbuttoned his unpleasantly tight pants and guided the head of his penis into your hot entrance. As you merged into one, a profound sense of belonging washed over you, a feeling you had yearned for so long. A solitary tear trailed down your cheek, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. He penetrated you with raw force, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with every continuous stroke. It was raw, characterised by the relentless pursuit of desire, teeth digging into tender flesh, and unyielding grips that promised bruises by dawn. Despite the roughness, every moment was a symphony of pleasure you couldn't get enough of. When you both came, your back arched, the sound of a soft moan escaped your lips, but it dissolved into the heated intensity as Tom claimed your mouth once more

The room was saturated with the lingering echoes of passion as you lay on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his laboured breaths. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, an aftermath of the intense encounter. Tom's hand traced soothing patterns on your back with rhythmic strokes, creating a sense of comfort.

"I love you," you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a confession, an unfiltered truth that hung in the air. The vulnerability of the moment lay bare in the quiet aftermath.

A beat passed before Tom’s lips curved into a mocking smile as he listened to your heartfelt declaration. With a calculated nonchalance, he leaned down and pressed a cold, indifferent kiss to your lips. It was a kiss that tasted of detachment, a bitter irony wrapped in the guise of a tender moment. Breaking away, he looked into your eyes, the amusement evident in his gaze. "Silly little girl," he said with a dismissive chuckle. Tom's words, delivered with a cold detachment, lingered in the air, settling like a heavy curtain that draped the room in a somber reality. The silence that followed carried the weight of your shattered expectations, and in that moment, the intimacy you had shared seemed like a fleeting illusion. You felt stupid. The vulnerability you had exposed, the love you had confessed—all reduced to insignificance by the stark revelation of his indifference.

In the aftermath of Tom's callous dismissal, a bitter truth settled upon you like an indelible stain. The daylight hours were not meant for you. The warmth shared in the night, the whispered confessions, and stolen kisses were facets of a reality carefully curated by him—a reality where you were permitted only under the cloak of darkness.

In the wake of this revelation, the weight of your unrequited emotions became palpable, each heartbeat a reminder of the divide between the two worlds you inhabited with Tom. The nights were yours, a realm where he seemed to embrace you, but the days belonged to a version of him that eluded your understanding. Regrettably, you accepted the truth that, in Tom's realm, you were fated to be merely a passing shadow; you were his, but he wasn't yours, and he never would be. He belonged to no one else but himself. 

In the symphony of darkness, your presence is my favourite note. Until the night claims us again, know that you exist, a cherished memory in the sanctuary of my thoughts. Yours in the shadows,

T.M.R.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about tom ♡here♡

♡HALSIN IN LOVE♡

calling you "love"

with his eyes warm and soft

and smile tender

he makes you feel truly special

his words and gestures demonstrate his affection

despite his big and hardened hands, they are delicate on your skin

often sending shivers of pleasure down your spine

it is needless to say, but he adores touching you, admiring your body, with no shame

making love to you with no shame, just pure love

he seems to worship every inch of you

could kiss you forever, holding you in his arms

he gazes at you with lust, but also endless admiration

which sometimes makes you shy due to his unapologetic stare

you may be shy, but not him, never

he desires to take care of you, to protect you

his happiest moments are those spent in the nature with you

you share stories while lying on the grass together, gazing at the skies, your sides touching

his wisdom, derived from his age, radiates from him

when he talks about his love for you it makes your heart skip a beat, his words are beautiful and sincere

touching, and unique

honest

his open-mindedness, empathy, kindness and vast knowledge impress you greatly

you could listen to him endlessly, talk with him endlessly

be with him endlessly

he makes you feel understood, and important

he's also big on mutual respect

he is not the type to betray your trust or make you feel bad about yourself

will gladly take all that you can give him

certified daddy

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡

more Tom. i demand.

gladly.

.·:*¨TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE AS YOUR PROFESSOR ¨*:·

the most charismatic dada professor of the last decade, is the talk of the school immediately 

his presence alone demands attention

young and utterly handsome but let that not fool you, his mind is sharp, his knowledge vast and he knows how to pass it in along to his students 

well-groomed, you will never catch him off guard, calm face, dark clothes and a book in his hand (always)

strangely deep and somehow sad eyes are the only sign of his tiredness, but who wouldn’t have that look after obtaining the wicked knowledge he has?

he notices every little detail and it seems impossible to fool him so no-one even tries 

he also notices those who are gifted, his eyes are especially on them you see

forming special meetings to his favourites and you are one of them

he treats his chosen ones differently, he want to know them better, infiltrate their minds

he's sending you birthday cards, in emerald-green envelope, his handwriting neat and his wishes sincere

on one of those special meetings, while talking, discussing ideas and sipping tea Professors Riddle gaze linger on one student longer than the others, and that student is you

he’s intrigued but conflicted of course keeping you at safe distance for now

during one of his classes you answer correctly to one of the trickiest question, he gives points to your house for this one

but for you the biggest reward was Professor Riddle little smile meant just for you and brows raised in surprise 

at that moment you felt like you could fly :)

during some other dada class your exchange of views with Professor Riddle was so fiery and full of unspoken things he had to step back as not to make other student question your relationship 

after that he starts ignoring you whenever he can, he’s well-mannered towards you as always but he doesn’t engage you in his classes, doesn’t give you extra attention during meetings with his pupils, doesn't give you extra passes to restricted section

and worst of all he doesn't respond to your little verbal provocation no longer

his eyes are longing however, you can feel it and it almost burns your skin

you feel miserable because of this sudden change in his behaviour

you miss your intellectual wars, you miss books that he was reccomeendign to you, and his fingers guiding yours as you were learning a new spell...

so one cold night you muster your courage and decide to confront him in private, sneak into his chambers, your little heart flutters like crazy

when he sees you he act surprised but he's truly not

“ I shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you”, he says flatly

but he didn't mean it, you know he didn't so you kiss him hard and for one sweet second he's kissing you back but then he stops, and now looking deep into your eyes in doubt, as if searching for something...

"don't", he says, moving away from you

suddenly you feel like you made a fool out of yourself, you start to think that all this secret looks and gentle touches were all nothing but your twisted imagination, cries of your loneliness

what did i do wrong? you keep asking yourself

but in the morning you see an enchanted flower on your bedside table with a note attached to it

"i've been thinking about you all night" is says and even without a signature you know who sent it to you

and this is how your strange game begins

it is dangerous for both of you as he is your professor and you are his student

sometimes when you doubt it all and crying in his arms he's softly whispering words of comfort to you

when it doesn't work he says he will ruing your life if you'll tell somebody or leave him, his eyes empty while saying that

you know he's bad for you but you are by his side anyway, waiting for better in him also knowing deep-inside that you are nothing without him

always cherishing this little moments when he is kind to you, when he kiss you gently and cups your face with his fingers

devouring every praise, every "I want you" from his beautiful mouth

forgetting every "you're pathetic"

loving his hands on your inner tights

feather-like kisses on your face

quick make-out sessions in between lessons "quick, we don't have much time"

and then he fuck you hard on his desk, in his classroom and it feels both wrong and soooo good

his hand on your mouth as to keep you quiet, your soft whimpers die in his palm

you learn to live in secrecy, feeding yourself with stolen moments and yearning embraces in the middle of the darkest of nights

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about tom ♡here♡

♡ WHEN DRACO MALFOY HAS A CRUSH ON YOU♡

- he’s complex

- hiding beneath his cold demeanour

- devoting countless hours to the Astronomy Tower

- gazing at the stars in the dark night sky

- his moves full of lazy grace

- his long limbs look somewhat regal, not lanky and awkward as they are with most his age

- his silver eyes look cold and distant

- he may surprise you with random acts of kindness or genuine concern

- waiting for you after the class is over

- carrying your heavy books

- asking you a variety of questions because he's genuinely interested in getting to know you better

- (you won’t hear much from him in return tho)

- offering you small compliments from time to time*nonchalantly*

- admiring your style *always*

- *making countless attempts to impress you*

- also(!)

- he can be mean to people who don't get along with you

- he may watch you closely when he thinks no one’ll notice

- but when you do, he's desperately trying to appear composed.

- would never reveal his true motives of course

- he’s too proud for that

- and too scared to open up fully

- often hiding his feelings with aggressive sarcasm

- acting like he doesn’t really care (but he do!)

- when your name comes up in a conversation, his porcelain cheeks turn pinkish

- and his cold demeanour fades

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about draco ♡here♡

♡ my favourite draco ♡ (headcanons)

*draco that I’ve created in my mind, thanks to endless hours spent on reading fanfictions, the books and binge-watching the movies*

oh, Draco…

he’s flawed, full of brilliance yet deeply insecure

desperately tries to hide his self-doubt behind ironic smirks

uses sarcasm (a lot) as a shield protecting himself of any vulnerability

his tongue is sharp, he effortlessly cuts through any argument, always knowing exactly what to say to hurt you in the worst way possible- even if you are someone important to him (or perhaps, especially so)

quick tempered, saying spiteful things in the heat of the moment, only to regret them later

his nights are restless as he torments himself with thoughts about his worth, grappling with past choices and questioning whether he's deserving or not

desperately craves for a connection in the darkest of his room

fuelled by ambition (classic slytherin), carrying himself with pride, a touch of poshness, and (an occasional) dramatic flair

he wants to appear to the world as someone cold, but he actually has the sweetest soul, hidden behind a distant demeanour he so deliberately created through the years

a loverboy at his core, he quietly yearns for something more than its written for him

he dreams of genuine relationship, something that could take his breath away, but he’ll never openly admit to that, so instead he will torture himself with the thought

he writes you a love letter and never sends it

he wants to give you roses, kiss your hand gently every-time he sees you

he wants to walk you home, give you his warmest sweater, watch how your eyes glitter in the pale moonlight

he can be funny if he's not too stuck-up in his head at the moment, he likes to tease a lot, and flirt shamelessly

if he hurt you with his reckless words, firstly he feels good about it and after the realisation hits him he's full of rage, he detest himself because of it, is punching a wall with his bare fists, his knuckles in blood, howling, he's losing his mind

he's apologising to you on his knees, begging you not to leave him and ugly crying

when it comes to his looks, he’s tall and blonde (obviously)

has the loveliest upside-down smile

beautiful bone structure, beautiful jawline beautiful everything

sad, blue eyes, a hint of thunderstorm and doubt hidden behind them

almost aggressive, violet bags under them as he can't sleep at night, remember?

his complexion pale, almost sick, that make it seem like he hasn’t seen the sun in centuries

long limbs, neatly done hair, short-cut nails, always shaved

dressed impeccably in dark attire that make him look so utterly delicious

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about draco ♡here♡