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I´ve listening a lot to this song lately and I can´t help but think of Severus and Harry damn....

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small family

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ah yes my two neglected & abused halfbloods❤️ they would be besties if they had met as kids

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some kaz to get me out of an art block

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Forgiveness

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The mockingbird, the jabberjay and the mockingjay 🕊️ inspired by this post by @fromevertonow

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ooooo

a severance of light

Alright so: this was a long one shot and then I made it longer because I gave it ~plot~ so now it's 20k and still going... fuck me.

anyway, it's called a severance of light and Ariel has a weird horny stalker and Snape is not doing great about it - and also because months earlier, Ariel walked into the Forbidden Forest to die. so now they're all back at Hogwarts to give Seventh Year a go and neither are... doing particularly well.

anyway, here's a sneak peek.

The first note arrives during breakfast one Friday. 

It's delivered by one of the school owls, a tawny thing that drops a small, folded parchment directly onto Ariel's plate of eggs. She frowns, not expecting any correspondence. Her first instinct is to check the Staff Table, where her father sits with his customary scowl, but he's engaged in what appears to be a reluctant conversation with Professor Flitwick.

Ariel carefully unfolds the parchment beneath the table, angling it away from prying eyes. The handwriting is unfamiliar — spidery and thin, with oddly elongated loops on the descenders.

I drink in the sight of you. Soon, I'll drink more than that.

She snorts, tucking the note into her pocket. 

—

The next day, Hermione shows her the cover of the Prophet. 

It immediately puts Ariel in a bad mood.

"SNAPE'S SECRET HEIR: THE FATHER-DAUGHTER DECEPTION THAT SHOCKED THE WIZARDING WORLD," the headline screams in bold, animated lettering. Beneath it was a split image — Snape glowering from behind his desk and Ariel’s interview picture from the Tournament. Someone has enchanted the photos to occasionally glance at each other.

Ariel's stomach clenches. "Brilliant. They're still at it, then."

"It's been three weeks," Hermione says, her voice low. "You'd think they'd have found something more interesting by now."

"Like what? The daughter of a Muggleborn and a spy who survived the Killing Curse twice and defeated the Dark Lord? It's their dream story." Ariel stabs at her breakfast, appetite gone. "What's this one say?"

Hermione grimaces. "It's... not good. Rita Skeeter's suggesting your father used his position as a double agent to orchestrate everything. That he manipulated events to put you in danger, knowing you'd survive because of your mother's protection."

"That's absurd," Ariel hisses, snatching the paper. Her eyes scan the article, each paragraph more outrageous than the last. "She's implying he wanted me to face Voldemort alone so he could—what—claim some sort of paternal glory afterward?"

Ron, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since the news broke, finally clears his throat. "You know what's mad? Even the Slytherins are gossiping about it. Overheard Malfoy in Potions yesterday saying his father nearly had a conniption when he found out."

"Lucius Malfoy would," Ariel mutters, folding the paper with unnecessary force. "I'm sure all the Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban are having quite the laugh about it."

She glances toward the Staff Table again. Her father is gone, likely retreated to the dungeons to avoid the whispering and stares that had become constant companions since the revelation. The secret they'd guarded for six years had become the wizarding world's favorite scandal overnight.

Professor McGonagall catches her eye and gives a small, sympathetic nod. The Headmistress has been running interference with reporters attempting to gain access to the castle grounds, but she couldn't stop the owls or the whispers.

“Oh — shit.” Ron says suddenly. 

“What is it now?” Ariel groans. 

“Er — look at page six.” he says, pointing to a smaller article in the corner.

Hermione flips through her copy, finding the indicated page. Her eyes widen. "Oh no."

Ariel leans over to read the headline: "POTTER OR SNAPE? Ministry Debates Inheritance Laws for Previously Unacknowledged Heirs."

"They're questioning whether I should have legal access to James’ vault," Ariel says flatly, scanning the article. "Because apparently being Snape's daughter means I'm suddenly not James Potter’s child anymore."

"That can't be legal," Ron protests. “He claimed you —” 

"It's not about legality," Hermione says, her expression grim. "It's about keeping the story alive. Creating controversy where there isn't any."

She pushes her plate away. "I need some air.”

—

Ariel forgets about first note by the time the next one arrives. 

Once again, the parchment is folded meticulously, edges creased with surgical precision. This time, Ariel glances around the Great Hall before opening it, noting the curious eyes of her Housemates. There’s always rumors circulating that she has a secret paramour — someone she met during the War while on the run. Hermione teases her about it incessantly, before Ron snogs her silly and declares that he certainly met someone. 

Your blood calls to me. I hear it singing beneath your skin. I’d like to caress every inch, feel your folds between my fingers. 

A chill slides down her spine, cold and insidious as a droplet of ice water. This isn't some half-baked attempt at romance. Something about the words feels — wrong — predatory.

She crumples the note in her fist, suddenly aware of how exposed she feels among the chattering students. Her gaze darts to the Staff Table again, seeking the dark figure of her father, but Snape's chair sits empty again.

She’s received her fair share of bizarre shit from admirers. Since the end of the War, there had been plenty of weird blokes who had wanted her attention, wanted to take her on dates and shower her in affection and praise. Most of these admirers are harmless, professing their love as Ariel grits her teeth and bulldozes her way through crowds in public. 

Tonks tells her it’s because she’s young and brilliant and — well — she says beautiful — but Ariel can’t seem to find that part of her. She looks just like her mum, except for her eyes. They are Snape's eyes, black and fathomless, and perhaps the only feature she's ever been truly proud of. It’s what makes her terrifying — and perhaps undateable.

"They don't want you," Tonks had told her once, during a quiet moment at Grimmauld Place. Her hair had been a soft lavender that day, her eyes kind as she watched Ariel sort through a pile of fan mail. "They want what you represent. Fame makes people think they know you—that they're entitled to you."

Ariel had scoffed then, but now, with the crumpled note burning in her pocket like a hot coal, she understands. Tonks had warned her that being both famous and reasonably attractive was "a bloody nightmare cocktail."

"They'll project all sorts of fantasies onto you," she'd said, demonstrating by morphing her features into a grotesque caricature of Ariel's face. "Half of them would be disappointed if they actually met the real you."

"Thanks," Ariel had said dryly.

"Not because you're disappointing," Tonks had clarified, punching her lightly on the arm. "Because real people are complicated. And some of these blokes don't want complicated. They want the Girl Who Lived to fulfill whatever twisted fantasy they've concocted."

But this — this note feels different — darker. 

When Ariel returns to her dormitory that evening, she places the crumpled note beside the first one on her nightstand, studying them with narrowed eyes. The handwriting is identical. She casts a quick Revealing Charm, but the parchment reveals nothing unusual—no hidden messages, no magical signatures.

Just words. Just threats. Just — nonsense. 

—

Ariel runs into her father before lunch a week into term. 

He’s been in a foul mood, reluctant to have returned to teaching once more, but clearly only doing so because Ariel is here. Everyone is aware of it. 

The initial shock that Ariel is not a Potter has worn off amongst the students — it hadn’t lingered since Snape had come forward just as Voldemort realized he’d been able to fucking die, unable to resist the temptation to twist the knife of betrayal further. He’d held on tight to Ariel as she’d lifted her wand at Voldemort one last time, sneering that it had been his child all along — that his daughter had been his undoing —

Ariel can't help but wonder if Snape regrets it, now. He barely looks at her, oddly reminiscent of her First Year, when he’d pretended she was nothing, that she wasn’t worth his time — before she’d shown him the letter. 

He stands before her in the dungeon corridor, his dark robes billowing despite the absence of a breeze. The torchlight casts harsh shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles and deep lines that make him look older than his years. Even with the stress of spying and near-death experiences over for them both, he still hasn’t exactly — unwound. 

"Miss Evans," Snape says formally, though they're alone. In public, he maintains the distance of professor and student. It's easier that way. Safer.

Ariel hates it. They played this game for years. Everyone knows, now, but Snape still seems reluctant to be anything but disdainful to her in public. It drives her mad — after Voldemort’s body had hit the floor, he’d crushed her against him, his face shining with pride so thick it had been like staring at the sun — and there had been hundreds of people bloody watching them. Someone had even gotten a picture — it still circulates as the front page of the Prophet, every month or so. He doesn’t know it, but she keeps a Charmed copy of it beside her bed. 

"Sir," she replies, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. 

"I hear  you've been avoiding the Hospital Wing," Snape says, his tone clipped. "Madam Pomfrey mentioned you missed your follow-up appointment."

Ariel resists rolling her eyes. "I feel fine. The scarring has healed nicely."

"Your definition of 'fine' has historically been questionable." His gaze flickers briefly to her left forearm, where a thin silver scar runs from wrist to elbow. A parting gift from Bellatrix — the barmy cunt.

"I learned from the best," she counters, a hint of challenge in her voice.

A muscle in Snape's jaw twitches. "Amusing as ever, Miss Evans."

"I'd have thought you'd appreciate the irony, considering how many times you've claimed to be 'fine' while bleeding profusely." She shifts her weight, the stack of books in her arms growing heavier. "Or was that just another lesson in what not to do?"

His eyes narrow fractionally. "Perhaps you should spend less time analyzing my behavior and more time focusing on your NEWT preparations. Professor McGonagall mentioned your last Transfiguration essay was... lacking."

The barb stings more than it should. Once, he would have helped her with difficult subjects, staying up late in his quarters reviewing theory while they shared tea. Now, he wields her academic struggles like weapons. 

"I've been busy," she says stiffly.

"Too busy for your education? Or too busy avoiding your obligations?" His gaze is piercing, searching for something beyond her words.

Ariel clutches her books tighter against her chest, a shield between them. "Is there something specific you wanted, Professor? Or are we just cataloguing my disappointments for the day?"

She killed a Dark Lord — she’s slain a bloody basilisk — she fought and bled and became the Master of Death, and her father is giving her shit over a Transfiguration essay? 

Something flickers in Snape's expression — a momentary softening, perhaps regret — before the mask of indifference returns.

"I merely wished to ensure you hadn't succumbed to whatever ailment has apparently affected your academic performance," he says, voice dropping lower. "Your mother would expect better."

The mention of her mother lands like a slap. Ariel feels heat rising to her cheeks, anger bubbling beneath her skin. She wants to fling the books at him, to scream that he has no right to wield Mum’s  memory as a weapon — not when it was her who spoke to her in the Forest. 

You’ve been so brave — 

Instead, she swallows hard. "Is that all, sir?"

Snape studies her for a long moment, as though trying to decipher something written in a language he only half-understands. 

"For now." He turns to leave, then pauses. Without looking back, he adds: "Should you find yourself troubled by anything, my office door remains open to you."

Before she can respond, he's gone, black robes disappearing around the corner like wisps of smoke.

Ariel releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The encounter leaves her feeling hollow, a familiar ache spreading through her chest. There had been a time when she could read his every microexpression, when she knew the difference between his genuine displeasure and his protective facade. 

Now, she's not sure which parts are real anymore.

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Perhaps not so belovèd.

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The Monster of Florence

PRINTS available 👆🖤

I love to imagine how young hannibal would've been like. Pls ignore the background, I got really lazy

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AHHHHH

am i the only one wondering the aftermath of the snily mess (aka pregnancy reveal) like i wanna know how chaotic it really was 😭 i find it so funny how severus really dipped before coming back like a puppy

I have a really rough draft from a one shot I have eons ago -- here's some of it:

“Open the bloody door, Severus.”

Severus’ blood ran cold. He quickly sheathed his wand and threw open the door to find Lily standing there, covering in a fresh dusting of snow. It clung to her eyelashes as she glared at him, her green eyes practically glowing in the dark.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” he snarled. “What the sodding fuck are you doing here?”

"We need to talk," Lily said, brushing past him into the small sitting room, leaving a trail of melting snow in her wake. "And don't you dare try to throw me out."

Severus slammed the door shut, his heart hammering in his chest. "Have you forgotten what I am? Who I serve?" He gestured frantically to his left forearm, where the Dark Mark lay hidden beneath layers of black fabric. "If anyone followed you—"

"No one followed me," she snapped, unwinding her scarf. "I'm not an idiot, Severus."

"Debatable, considering you're standing in a Death Eater's home." His voice was cold, but panic fluttered in his chest. He quickly drew the curtains closed, casting furtive glances out the window before shutting out the night completely.

Lily huffed, peeling off her damp coat. "I've been careful. I used multiple Apparition points, doubled back, cast Disillusionment charms." She draped her coat over the back of his threadbare armchair. "I wouldn't risk it if it wasn't important."

"Nothing is important enough to warrant this madness," Severus hissed, keeping his voice low despite the privacy wards he'd meticulously layered around the house. His eyes darted to the fireplace, wondering if he should douse it completely. "You need to leave. Now."

"I'm pregnant."

The words hit him like a Stunning Spell. Severus felt the blood drain from his face, his body going rigid. For several heartbeats, he could only stare at her, his mind refusing to process what she'd said.

"What?" he finally managed.

"I'm pregnant," Lily repeated, her voice steadier than before. "And it's yours."

Severus' mouth opened and closed soundlessly as a maelstrom of emotions crashed through him—terror, disbelief, a traitorous flicker of something that might have been joy before it was smothered by cold reality.

"That's impossible," he whispered hoarsely.

"Is it?" Lily challenged, her hands moving protectively to her still-flat stomach. "That night after the raid—"

"We were careful," Severus cut in, his voice rising with panic.

"Not careful enough, apparently."

He just — stared. He couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel the rush as the floor came up to meet him, didn’t feel his knees hit the hardwood or hear Lily swear as she rushed towards him.

“Get — get rid of it.” he rasped.

Lily recoiled as if he'd slapped her, her face draining of color. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me," he snarled, scrambling to his feet, desperate to regain some semblance of control. "This—" he gestured wildly between them, "—this cannot exist. Do you understand? He will kill you. He will kill the—" The word stuck in his throat. "He will kill everything."

"So that's your answer?" Lily's voice was dangerously quiet."Just... get rid of it? You don’t mean that.” 

“He will kill it — he will cut it out of you —”

She grabbed the front of his robes and bared her teeth at him. “I’d like to see him fucking try.”

Severus wrenched himself from her grip, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "You have no idea what he's capable of. What any of them are capable of." His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "What I've seen them do to women who—"

"I don't care!" Lily's eyes flashed dangerously. "This is my decision, Severus. Mine."

"And what have you decided?" Severus asked, his voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer yet desperate to know.

Lily's shoulders slumped slightly, the fire in her eyes dimming to embers. "I'm keeping it. I — I thought you should know."

Severus felt the room spin. He gripped the edge of the bookshelf to steady himself, his knuckles white against the dark wood.

"Then you're sentencing yourself to death," he said hollowly. "And the child."

"I won't be the first single mother in the world, Severus."

He let out a bitter laugh that held no humor. "A single mother with the Dark Lord hunting her? With a child whose father bears his Mark?" His voice cracked. "This isn't about propriety or scandal, Lily. This is about survival."

Lily's jaw tightened. "I've been hunted since I was seventeen, Severus. Since the moment I chose to stand against him."

"This is different," Severus insisted, pacing now, his mind racing through scenarios, each more horrific than the last. "You don't understand what will happen when they find out. When he finds out."

"Then help me," Lily said, her voice softening. She reached for his arm, but he flinched away. "Help me protect our child."

The words 'our child' sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He'd never imagined fatherhood—not truly. Even in his most desperate, private fantasies about Lily, he'd never dared envision this. A child. His child. Their blood mingled together in a new life.

A child who would be hunted. A child who would have his blood, his tainted lineage.

"And what exactly would you have me do?" Severus exploded, his voice rising to a shout. "Defect? Run away with you? Play happy families while the Dark Lord hunts us across continents?"

"I don't know!" Lily shouted back, her composure finally cracking. "But I expected something better than 'get rid of it' from the man I—" She cut herself off, her chest heaving.

"The man you what, Lily?" Severus advanced on her and he couldn’t stop — all he could think of was that baby. "The man you fucked one night? The Death Eater you slummed with because you were lonely and scared?"

Lily slapped him.

The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed in the small room. Severus froze, his hand rising slowly to touch the reddening mark on his face.

"How dare you," she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. "You know damn well it was more than that."

Severus said nothing, his dark eyes glittering dangerously as he stared at her.

"I came to you because—" Lily's voice caught. "Because I thought you deserved to know. Because despite everything, I thought you might actually care."

"Care?" The word escaped him as a harsh laugh. "Of course I care. That's the fucking problem, Lily." He turned away from her, bracing himself against the mantelpiece, his knuckles white. "If I didn't care, this would be simple."

"Simple how?" Lily demanded, her voice cracking. "Tell me what would be simple if you didn't care."

Severus whirled around, his face contorted with anguish. "I could deliver you to him myself," he hissed. "I could present you as a gift—the pregnant Mudblood who's been defying him. I'd be rewarded beyond measure."

Lily paled but stood her ground. "But you won't."

"No," he admitted, the word barely audible. "I won't."

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they took the "match each other's freak" trope too seriously

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pov you met the murder husbands

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Just commissioned some beautiful fanart from the lovely @banana-ge-ge for my fic Don’t Call Me Baby. Am I dying with how perfect it is. Yes. Yes I am.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61850941

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

✔️ : complet 🔥 : smut

✧ 𝐎𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬_𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬_𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨_𝐇 🔥✔️

words : 67,851 Will imagined his death in numerous ways, numerous times. Being chosen as a tribute opened a road of new possibilities, some more horrifying than the others. He doesn’t want to be torn to pieces like Randall Tier’s prey. He doesn’t want to be burned like Francis Dolarhyde prefers to kill. But most of all he doesn’t want to be caught by Hannibal Lecter, a career tribute with a penchant for eating his victims alive. Too bad Hannibal seems fixated on him. Hunger Games!AU

✧ 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 72,515 After Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Will can't reconcile Abigail's death. He's done - with all of it. He needs to escape, to return to the only place he has ever felt safe and wanted. That place ends up being a sleepy town on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, where he spent one summer as a child, exchanging riddles and letters with his dearest friend: the Shadow Man.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 10,502 When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks... Season 1 AU - if Hannibal wasn't such a MASSIVE dick.

✧ 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 21,753 When Hannibal pops up next to Will in an FBI Academy graduation photo, the result is innocent enough...until Will's coworkers play with photoshop and make the image so much worse. Will would laugh it off, but it seems he can't take a picture without Hannibal showing up in the background. Can Will shake his persistent photo buddy? And more importantly...does he want to?

✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 ✔️

words : 8,945 1st : Online classes due to the quarantine are how Professor Graham's students learn that: 1) Professor Graham has a cute dog; 2) Professor Graham is married; and 3) Professor Graham's husband is smoking hot. 2nd : Online conferences due to the quarantine are how Doctor Lecter's colleagues learn that: 1) Doctor Lecter has a beautiful home; 2) Doctor Lecter is married; and 3) Doctor Lecter's husband is fabulously buff.

✧ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞) 𝐛𝐲 @𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨 ✔️

words : 8,114 Hannibal is locked up in the Baltimore Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Supposedly he's in maximum security but he pretty much just breaks out and leaves any time it suits him. And it suits him to break out whenever he thinks Will needs him. I mean, they forgot Will's birthday! Come on, wouldn't you?

✧ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 🔥✔️

words : 7,775 Imagine Will calling Hannibal’s cell phone after he’s incarcerated just to hear Hannibal’s voice on his voicemail. Imagine Will leaving Hannibal voicemails about how he wishes things had turned out differently. Imagine Will spilling his heart out to Hannibal’s voicemail, assuming that the man himself will never hear them. Imagine Hannibal listening to these messages.

✧ 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 36,059 "Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬 ✔️

words : 17,120 After using an Unforgivable to end the wizard hunt for Hobbs, top Auror Will Graham has been suspended for a year from office to teach the children of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though initially reluctant to delay his hunt for the Ripper, his misgivings rapidly fade after befriending the Potions Professor and former doctor, Hannibal Lecter.

For those who don't know, because I discovered it really by chance, there is a kind of extended universe of hannigram where the characters of Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy are shipped even if their characters are not in the same works.

Spacedogs is therefore the pairing between Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen) in Charlie Countryman and Adam (Hugh Dancy) in Adam.

To summarize, it's gangster! Nigel x autistic asperger! adam

✧ 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 28,512 Nigel isn't handling his divorce well. When a good Samaritan starts leaving him gifts on his balcony, Nigel gets suspicious. What could go wrong?

✧ 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 55,651 Nigel moves to America when he's 10 years old. He hates every second of it. But when a kid in his class slaps a Post It note with a space fact on Nigel's back - his whole world changes. Nigel gets a new best friend, a new hobby, and a love story that he's not sure has a happy ending. Is it possible to meet the love of your life at 10? Nigel's about to find out.

✧ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 14,279 Immediately, the small bit of tension he'd been carrying in his neck began to unwind. He sighed into the plushie's shoulder, nosing at the collar of the shirt, and allowed his weight to fall upon it completely. It was propped up against the wall, making it easier to recline against. A smile crept across his face without his intention, and he knew immediately that he wouldn't be returning the bear or the shirt, not for a few more days at least. His eyes had just begun to flutter shut when he heard the distinct sound of a closing door and expensive shoes tapping against the wooden flooring. The walls were thin, he heard most noises that came from the apartment adjacent to his. Nigel was home. ____ Adam and Nigel are next-door neighbors in an apartment with very thin walls. By mistake, Adam ends up with a person-sized plushie that he just doesn't feel like getting rid of. As Adam's obsessive feelings towards his neighbor grow, as well as his collection of items he's stolen from the other man's apartment, he finds himself using the plushie as a stand-in.

✧ 𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐥 🔥✔️

words : 42,036 An unusual pairing of a thuggish psychopath and a sweet yet sheltered man with Asperger's syndrome. Loosely follows the plots of both movies the character are based from, but ignores a lot of the other characters in either(ie no Gabi, no Charlie, no Beth, etc....). Set in Manhattan but Nigel falls in love with Adam the way he fell in love with Gabi.

[illisiusreads]

“I could be a good mother and I wanna be your wife, so I hold you to my knife”

[illisiusreads]

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he said as he led her out of the salon, “don’t ever sneak up on me again.”

felt the need to draw em so I colored one of the rejected comic concepts. Crows assemble

[illisiusreads]

For Old Times' Sake 🌙