#witch!emma

[viceandmature]

Wanda Maximoff and Cassandra Nova skins Reed Richards and Johnny Storm

[snowbellewells]

@hollyethecurious Oh wow!! 😮 🤩😮 I seriously love this one! I have to admit I’ve gotten way behind in keeping up with my reading, reviewing and reblogging lately, but I was so excited to see more of this story. I remember loving the teaser bit of a Part One to this back when you wrote it, and I was thrilled to see more of the story emerge.

You do such a brilliant job setting the scene of Emma with her hit, her herbs and her magic, and Killian coming there to seek her knowledge and aid to free himself from Pan. It’s perfectly set up that she has pressing business to settle with Pan as well. And it makes sense with the abandonment and hardship Hook faced in childhood (and what he has seen of the suffering in Neverland, no doubt) that he would easily take up Emma’s cause to find her son as his own - even if he weren’t clearly attracted to her.

Oh, but that attraction… 😏 You’ve balanced it so well here, ebbing and flowing beneath the surface of their whole interaction, really from the moment she turns and he discovers she is far from the old crime he had expected. Their give and take, and the crackling awareness of each other despite all the more serious things swirling around them, is delicious and tangible. Hook’s honor and courage is clear in the fact that he would have stayed and fought for her against them mob, even though he had just met her, because she’d done nothing wrong and it was the right thing to do. All the same, I liked where you took it even better. My heart was fluttering with excitement when she said she was going with him and transported them both back to the Jolly Roger. I loved that moment they just stood there on the deck, arms still around each other, and you knew they would see to the mission first, but their intent to explore that closeness is far from over. “His eyes sprang open and he found himself surrounded by a swirl of white mist. Gone were the aromatics of the witch’s hut, replaced by the bite and brine of the sea. It was not a murderous mob, but the comforting snap of sails and lapping of water against the hull of his ship that filled his ears. When the mist dissipated, instead of the soft flicker of candles, it was the moon’s rays glowing off the shimmering waves that illuminated the deck. The same rays that sparkled in the witch’s eyes, her neck still craned so she could peer up at him, their arms still circling one another, their gazes locked in an enchantment far stronger than any mystic might produce.” Simply Gorgeous!!! ��🩷🩷

And the bit with the Jolly welcoming her aboard as well?!? And his whispering over her shoulder as they take to the sky?!? Whew!! It was steamy and had me melting!! 🫠 So, so, good!! I know the muse cannot be forced, but I really do hope she gives you more of this one!!!

CS AU: The Witch in the Woods (2/?)

Summary: “If it’s aid of a magical sort ye seek, then you’ll be wanting to find the witch in the woods.”

A/N: This is a continuation of a short ficlet I wrote back in 2021 for that year's Halloweek (link below). When I had the idea of doing a spooky season bingo, I thought it would be a good time to add to this fun little tale so I could mark out the witches square. I would love to expand on this more, but that is entirely up to the muse. As of now, she has given me zero ideas for future installments, however, she is also a fickle bitch, so... who knows??

Although her bday was technically yesterday, I am offering up this continuation to @kmomof4 as a special gift. She yelled at me back in 2021 to continue it and has brought it up every year since. I doubt this will get her off my back, but maybe it'll satisfy her for this year... maybe. Happy belated Birthday, Krystal!!

Rated T for now / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

Hook stood stock still in shock. Her son was related to the devil who had bound him in servitude? How long had the lad been in Neverland? Was he a lost boy? Or perhaps one of the poor unfortunates the tribe of miscreants kept captive for sport? He would not put it past the deranged brat to torment and torture the boy for his own amusement, despite a familial connection.

Before Hook could voice any of this, a blinding glow illuminated from behind a cloth draped over something in the opposite corner. The witch turned and crossed the room, throwing back the cloth and revealing a tall mirror. However, in its reflection was not the witch or the interior of her meager hut, but a viewing portal, depicting a group of townspeople marching through the woods.

“Right on schedule,” the witch sighed sardonically before spinning around and murmuring an enchantment under her breath.

“What the devil is that?” Hook asked, but his question was nearly forgotten as his attention turned to the items that had begun moving of their own accord, whizzing past his head on their way to a carpet bag sitting open atop the work table.

“That-” the witch answered, gathering a few things on her own and packing them into the bag. “-is an angry mob. Note the torches and pitchforks.”

“I gathered,” Hook exasperated, attempting to duck out of the way while jars, vials, bottles, and sachets smelling of herbs continued to glide overhead. “Where are they headed?”

“Here, I'd imagine,” she replied with an unaffected air in her tone. “Most likely to hang me or burn me at the stake.”

Hook balked at that statement and the way she said it so matter-of-factly. “Come again?”

The witch stepped back towards the mirror and gestured at the figure centered within the frame. “See that man? He came here a few days ago, convinced his infant son had been cursed by the midwife and begged me to help.”

“The midwife cursed his newborn babe?”

“No,” she informed him, shortly. “She did her job and did it well. The issue with his son came later.”

“What issue?” Hook asked, making his way to stand next to her now that the objects in her hut had quieted down.

Her gaze still fixed on the mirror, she forlornly told him, “I do not believe the mother’s milk ever came in. The man said the boy would latch, but never seemed satisfied. He was slowly starving and I told the man as much. I suggested they supplement with goat’s milk and offered them an icing rod to feed him with, but…”

“But?”

The witch’s features tightened from a mixture of sadness and anger. “He said, no son of mine will be fed from a goat’s teet. That be the devil’s work.” Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the work table and began inspecting the contents of the carpet bag. “He insisted it had to be witchcraft and demanded I give him something to break the spell.”

“What did you do?” Hook inquired.

“I gave him some herbs to give his wife,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder at the mirror, her brow pinched and eyes squinted, straining to make out the details of the image. Perhaps attempting to ascertain how far into the woods the mob had traveled? “I did not tell him it was to increase her milk supply, but I did tell him it would take a few days for the ‘magic’ to take full effect. I warned him that if he did not see that his son was nourished during that time that it may well be too late, and unfortunately…”

“It was,” Hook finished, full comprehension of the situation now becoming clear to him. “So… the man blames you for his son’s death and means to see you pay for his ignorance and superstition.”

“It appears so,” she replied, focusing once more on the bag.

Hook gripped the hilt of his sword and raised his namesake menacingly towards the mirror. “I will not let that happen, love. I will protect you. I swear it.”

The witch chortled; an amused snort reverberated past her lips, causing Hook’s head to snap in her direction.

“I don’t plan for either of us to be here when they arrive,” she told him, closing the bag and lifting it from the table as though it weighed nothing at all. “Why do you think I’ve been packing?” Stepping up to him, she craned her neck to meet his gaze and said, “Shall we?”

“Shall we… what?”

Again, she rolled her eyes, another beguiling scoff huffing from her chest as she inquired, “You are a pirate, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Which means, you have a ship docked somewhere close by?”

“I do.”

“And you still wish for me to remove your binding, yes?”

“Aye.”

“And I’ve told you my fee, haven’t I?”

“Indeed,” he answered. “You wish for me to steal back your son from Pan.”

“Well, then…”

She paused and wet her lips, drawing his gaze down to her mouth. If not for the sound of the approaching mob, he may well have given in to the temptation of claiming that mouth… and other parts of her as well.

“I’m coming with you,” she said, stating that which should have been obvious to him before now.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, forcing himself to step back from her so he could make his way to the door, ready to fight his way through the mob if necessary.

“Not that way,” she said, grasping his arm and pulling him back to her. She set the carpet bag at their feet - or rather, nestled it on top of their feet - then wound her arms around his waist. “Think of your ship, Captain,” she murmured in the scant space between them. “Close your eyes and imagine us at her helm. I’ll do the rest.”

The shouts and cries echoing off the trees outside had become almost deafening. It took every ounce of trust he did not know he possessed to do as she instructed. His eyelids slid shut and his grip at her waist tightened. Images of the two of them together at the helm of his beloved Jolly Roger filled his mind’s eye and without warning a weightlessness took hold of him.

His eyes sprang open and he found himself surrounded by a swirl of white mist. Gone were the aromatics of the witch’s hut, replaced by the bite and brine of the sea. It was not a murderous mob, but the comforting snap of sails and lapping of water against the hull of his ship that filled his ears. When the mist dissipated, instead of the soft flicker of candles, it was the moon’s rays glowing off the shimmering waves that illuminated the deck. The same rays that sparkled in the witch’s eyes, her neck still craned so she could peer up at him, their arms still circling one another, their gazes locked in an enchantment far stronger than any mystic might produce.

“What’s your name, love?” Hook asked in a desperate breath, fearful that the slightest sound or sudden move might cause the woman to vanish as quickly as she’d had whisked them from her hut.

“Emma,” she replied on a breathless exhale. “Emma Swan.”

“Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Miss Swan,” Hook murmured, his fingers lightly skimming over the rough, woolen texture of her dress. “Captain Killian Jones. At your service.”

Hook had to force himself to not tighten his hold of her when she turned in his arms. Leaning back against his chest, she gently caressed the wheel, her fingers wrapping around one of the spokes. A crackling, the likes of which he had experienced during many a storm where lightning threatened to strike, swept through him and across the deck.

The witch - Emma - let out a giggle tinted with affection and lifted her head to gaze up at the sails. “A pleasure to meet you, too,” she said on a note of fondness, and Hook realized his ship, his enchanted ship, was also welcoming her aboard.

“I think it’s time we set sail. Don't you, Captain?” She made no attempt to move from the spot she currently occupied - the one manning the helm nor the one that kept her pressed against him.

Using the side of his boot, he shoved the carpet bag - still nestled between their feet - to the side and stepped in closer. Reaching around her, he grasped the wheel, caging her in, and gave his ship the command to set sail. The anchor was hoisted, the rigging was tightened, the sails snapped to attention, and the ship lurched forward, gliding through the waters. Once they were clear of the harbour, the mainsail lit up with a glittering sparkle and the hull lifted effortlessly into the night.

Emma gasped and braced her stance, but her surprised reaction was quickly replaced with an astonished laugh of awe and wonder.

“Hold on tight, love,” Hook crooned in her ear, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth at the wash of gooseflesh that erupted down her neck and across the swell of her breasts. “We’ll be in Neverland before you know it.”

“Will we?” she replied, her voice a bit hoarse and husky, making Hook wish the journey to their destination took longer… much, much longer.

“Aye,” he answered, molding himself to her back and pressing his cheek against hers from over her shoulder as he pointed towards starboard. “See there?” he said, turning his face towards hers, their lips now a hair’s breadth apart. “That’s the way to Neverland. To your boy.”

Emma’s eyes cut to the sky then back to Hook’s forget-me-not gaze before dropping down to his mouth. “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning?”

“Aye, love,” Hook murmured against her lips. “Straight on ‘til morning.”

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter

@winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling

@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

@jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd

@pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt

@natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur

@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed @bluewildcatfanatic @bananachickens

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Waiiit, is that FiddEmmaStan in my AU, who put this here???

[lagrith]

i wish i was a witch just to live there

[anyataylorjoys]

#Anya Taylor-Joy covered in blood cinematic universe

THE WITCH (2015) dir. Robert Eggars MORGAN (2016) dir. Luke Scott THOROUGHBREDS (2017) dir. Cory Finley LAST NIGHT IN SOHO (2021) dir. Edgar Wright THE MENU (2022) dir. Mark Mylod AMSTERDAM (2022) dir. David O. Russell FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA (2024) dir. George Miller

[fuckyeahalisonblaire]

Carol 

[rainbowstickersandunicorn]

Agatha All Along 1x01 || Once Upon a Time 1x02

[abandonedmannequinfactory]

American Horror Story: Coven, 2013

[snowbellewells]

@booksteaandtoomuchtv I am both relieved and still worried too. I’m so glad Emma is waking, but so anxious for her, and for Killian too as he waits to see her again. I hope that what Neal tried to do won’t have stolen her openness, her connection with Killian, and that she will recover and be able to carry on with her magic intact.

I loved how Killian could use his sense of her, could feel their connection, and used it to get to her. It was great seeing him charge to the rescue- thrilling honestly. Though he was frightened for her and angry at what was happening to his mate, that he could harness it and was able to stop the torment was such an amazing relief and climax to the story. It was really awesome how his link to Emma’s magic gave him enough of it to turn it back on Regina as she was siphoning it from Emma and trying to hold him too. (It served her right!)

Now just to see her wake and know him, and hopefully for it all to turn out right after the trial…. Right?

Witchy Woman (9/10)

64.media.tumblr.com

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | AO3 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Killian woke up with Emma on his chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around them. Emma had built her cocoon around them both sometime in the night. Her sea-coloured eyes were already on his and she wore a contented smile while she twirled her finger in the patch of hair on his chest. 

“What a lovely sight to see upon waking, Swan.” 

“I've been admiring the view myself,” she said before placing a chaste kiss on his chest. 

He ran his hand along her side, squeezing her tight to him as he did so. Her soft skin pressed against his beneath the blankets. Everything was perfect. These moments were becoming more frequent - they were no less precious in their frequency. With these once fleeting moments of warmth, contentedness, and connection becoming commonplace between them, their relationship felt more real, more substantial, than it had before. She wasn’t going to vanish from his grasp between one second and the next. 

“I need to get up and shower and help Anna with the beach party preparations and…” Killian interrupted her task list with a sweet kiss.

“Let’s start with the shower - that is something I can help you with.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Emma shifted off him to the en suite. “But after coffee, I have to go.” 

“Hmm, that is a while from now,” Killian answered as he followed her into the bathroom to run the water for them. He tugged her into his shower and water engulfed them from all sides. He chuckled at the deep groan that she released when the side jet nearest to her hit her lower back. He kneaded his hand and his blunted arm into her lower back muscles, enjoying the sounds of her sighs and moans when he hit upon a particularly sore spot. 

“I’m never going to leave if you keep this up.” 

“That’s the plan, love.” Killian smiled cheekily at her as she turned to hug him in the warm water. 

“This is nice.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“I like waking up with you,” Emma admitted softly. Killian broke their embrace to lather soap on them both.

“Should you move in with me, we would never need to wake up any other way.” Killian hadn’t intended to ask her, but he did not regret it. He wanted her to be the first thing that he saw every morning, the blanket thief in his bed each night, the clothing left strewn about the immaculate house, the other coffee cup on the counter top, and all the thousands of tiny things that are involved in sharing a life together.

“Hmm. You want me to move in with you so that we can always wake up together?�� 

“Aye. That’s one reason.” He answered after they rinsed off the soap. 

“Not the only one?”

“There are so many reasons that I want to share a home with you, Emma. Move in with me and let me show them to you?” 

The water seemed to roar more loudly in the quiet that followed. Time slowed in that cruel way it does when the next second will irrevocably impact your life. Perhaps, it is meant to help you prepare in case the ensuing second arrives ready to break you beyond repair. Maybe it is less malicious than that, a moment stretched out so that you know to pay attention and be fully present because what happens next matters. 

Killian intently watched as thoughts and emotions flickered wildly behind Emma’s eyes, as she drew in a breath to answer, as she formed the words that propelled time suddenly forward.

“You do have a kitchen full of my favourite snacks,” Emma smiled excitedly up at him. His heart was cliche as it soared with joy.

“Aye, and these plush towels you love so much,” he said, wrapping her in a towel as they stepped out of the shower. 

“And, that insanely large and comfortable bed.” 

“Aye, and coffee,” he offered, “with cinnamon.”

“All with the vampire that I love.” 

“All for the witch that I love.” 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The connection that they’d forged between them last night felt like a thread pulling and guiding them together. It was a bit strange at first - when she left to catch up with Anna, it had felt like a rubber band angry with being stretched to its limit. But, it quickly became a comfort, especially, after all the time they’d spent apart. 

As he went about his day, checking security for the beach party and of the town, he grew accustomed to the gentle nudge at his chest urging him ever closer to her. At times, he was sure he could detect echoes of emotion that belonged to his witch. 

There was also a new awareness of the strands of magic flowing around him and through him that he knew meant he’d absorbed some of her powers. He was a magical creature, his magic was an essential part of his being and ruled him, but her powers gave her control over magic. He wanted to explore this with her further, to ensure he could use her gifts without a cost to her and to experience the world as she did. Plus, he thought up some positions and games for them to try once he learned how her telekinesis worked. 

He was completing a final check of the security plan for tomorrow’s event before heading to the beach party when he received an email from Smee reporting a new possible security risk. 

“Bloody,” Killian cursed as he opened the missive. He couldn’t afford to overlook any potential situation just because he was anxious to get to the beach. 

He skimmed the report - a non-issue. But, he’d been delayed far longer than he wished. He shut down his computer and cleaned off his desk when the echoes of emotion that had accompanied him through the bond all day fell silent. 

His heart pounded as he pulled out his phone and called David. He was travelling at the height of his vampiric speed, the beach almost in view, as he listened to the phone ringing out. 

The band was playing and the party was in full swing when he reached the shoreline. The tether to Emma tugged him away from the party. Fear that didn’t belong to him crawled up his spine - Emma. 

“Hey, it’s David. Leave a message.”

Killian cursed, waiting for the beep. “Something has happened to Emma. I am tracking her and sharing my location with you. When you get this, find me. See you soon, mate.” 

He followed that wonderful tug toward the abandoned mines. When he reached the entrance,  he caught her scent mixed with another he knew well. Smee? 

As if in answer to his question, Smee emerged from the dark. 

“Sire?”

“Mr Smee,” Killian acknowledged. “Why aren’t you at your post?” 

“I got a call about some werewolves causing trouble nearby. I came to check it out.” 

Liar. The thought came from the magic swirling around him - Emma’s lie detector was more literal than he ever considered. The betrayal stung for a moment. The way his scent was so intermingled with Emma’s suggested that Smee was a part of what was happening with Emma. He wanted to demand answers, to hurt Smee the way Emma’s fear was hurting him, but he had to get to her. He didn’t want to waste time on Smee’s games. 

He smiled at Smee, all teeth and predator. Smee had a moment to process the threat before Killian rushed him and tore his head from his shoulders in one quick movement. He left the body and head at the mouth of the shaft and entered the mine. 

He could feel the anger radiating from her through the thread that connected them now. Anger meant she would find a way to fight, that would buy him time to reach her.

As he raced deeper into the mine, Killian’s chest started to burn as if it were being set on fire. What the fuck is happening? 

He set his teeth against the crippling pain and pressed on. He encountered a few weak werewolves blocking his progress. A wave of his hand sent them into the rock wall, knocking them out, and clearing the way forward. 

Screaming bounced around the dark walls around him and the scent of Emma’s blood was thick in the air. A growl tore through him as rage, red and hot, overtook him. He stormed forward, entering a cavern lined with sigils and one large stone slab where Emma was restrained and screaming as she battled a force he could not see. 

Regina and Neal stood in the space, watching the brutal scene unfold before them. Regina’s mouth was moving quickly, chanting the spell that was attacking Emma. Neal turned to face him with a broad smile on his face. “She’s going to be mine, now,” Neal gloated in way of greeting. 

Killian flung him against a wall to be dealt with later and turned his attention to the witch harming his mate. He darted toward her. She raised an arm, suspending him in mid-stride. Her chanting continued as she held him with little effort. He fought against Regina’s magic with all his strength but failed to overpower her magic, failed to stop Emma’s suffering. 

Regina smiled. 

Now would be a fantastic time to arrive, David. 

Killian stopped fighting against Regina’s power. It wrapped around him and held him in place. A witch’s magic would always be more powerful than the raw strength of either a vampire or a werewolf. It was how the gods kept the balance between the creatures. He just needed to figure out some other way to best her. 

An itch in his fingers alerted him of a change in the magic restraining him. It was gathering at his fingertips, aligning with the magic at his call, no longer holding him in place but awaiting his commands. 

He snarled forcing the magic back into Regina. It halted her chanting before tearing her into pieces from the inside out. A pile of purple dust gathered where the villainess had just stood. “Bloody hell.” Emma’s magic was a truly terrifying and wonderful thing. 

Turning to the slab, he waved away her restraints and pulled her into his arms. She was unconscious as he turned to take her out of this hell. But she was safe, now. He gripped her tight to him, the relief of her heart beating against his chest almost brought him to his knees.

“I think I hear something in this direction.” 

“David, my magic says they are this way.” Mary Margaret’s voice rang out through the tunnels. 

“Mary Margaret. David. We’re here.” Killian called, his voice breaking with emotion. She’s safe, now. She will be okay. 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

For every day that Emma did not wake, Killian carved a reminder into Neal’s flesh. For every time she called out Killian’s name during her endless slumber, he would break a bone, heal it, and break it again. The hisses and cries of her tormentor did very little to ease his anger, but even a drop of water is worth collecting if you’re dying of thirst. 

He entered the cell holding Neal, for now, ready to claim his flesh as the seventh day passed without any change. They had healed her with his venom, the bones in her hand knitted together days ago, her body was healthy but her mind was still out of reach. He felt like he was slowly losing parts of himself every day she stayed in this state. Perhaps, it was why he was enjoying taking parts from Neal so much. 

Neal looked up as Killian entered, the fear behind his eyes dulled from the day before, and his posture seemed resigned but no longer hopeless. A dark feeling crept through Killian, his jaw clenching against it.

“How’s Ems?” 

“You don’t get to ask.” Killian shut the door behind him, the lock engaging automatically behind him with a quiet click. “I do apologise, Neal, for you seem to have mistaken yourself for a guest in my home. Or a plaything that I intend to keep around for some time.” 

Neal’s eyes widened and the sharp acidic scent of fear filled the air as it dawned on him that tonight was going to be different than the previous six. Killian’s smirk was all hungry predator toying with his prey. “I assure you that I intend to rectify those misconceptions most thoroughly before I leave tonight. I am afraid that does mean that you won’t live to see tomorrow, mate.”

Killian smiled when Neal rallied his courage to make a last stand against him. He was hungry for a fight. Neal attacked first, lunging for Killian with his fangs extended as if they would pose any threat to Killian. Killian laughed without humour knocking the weaker vampire to the ground. He put his boot against Neal’s arm, pinning him to the floor. 

“She will never forgive you for killing me.” Neal spit out. Killian increased the pressure on Neal’s arm until a satisfying crack split the air. Neal grunted in pain, tears leaking from his eyes.

“She doesn’t like you nearly as much as you’ve told yourself,” Killian said smoothly. 

“She’ll leave you. That’s what she does.” Neal’s voice was between a whimper and a whine, a pathetic sound befitting the creature he was. 

A light knock at the door prevented Killian from responding. Killian’s heart squeezed in his chest, he knew what that knock meant. 

“Goodbye, Neal.” Killian dug his hook into Neal’s chest piercing his black heart. Neal pulled in one last wheezing breath before Killian grabbed a fistful of his hair. “I can’t say you’ll be missed,” Killian growled as he pulled. 

Killian kicked the heap of Neal’s body before turning on his heel and leaving the cell. David stood outside of the door. He nodded slightly to Killian, a small smile tugging at this lips, as Killian emerged from the room. Pulse racing, Killian turned to the guard he’d posted at the door, “Will, dispose of the tosser and ensure he is properly turned to ash.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good man.” Killian made his way back to his room in the best spirits he’d been in all week. 

Emma was waking.

[illyanarasputinfan]

👻 Happy Halloween! 🎃

Artist: Seye Sanyaolu

[texaschainsawmascara]

Anya Taylor Joy & Malcolm McRae wedding

[florida3exclamationpoints]

ouat text posts: pt. 5/?

[verycoolpersonyes]

ermemmemememe idk this is what i think they would wear ok bye

[occudo]

Hey, a question on the magus au

Do all the wizard have a paladin to defend them? In this case who was the paladin that defended Geltrude or the one who defended Elias?

Not everyone- Gerry doesn't for example- but Gertrude and Elias did have Emma and Peter

[izzylimon]

Reasons why I immediately liked "Agatha All Along" in just the first two episodes (no spoilers!!)

Kathryn Hahn is unleashed, everything we liked about her in WandaVision is amped up to 11 and it is a joy to see.

The rest of the cast is stellar, everyone was carefully handpicked. They have actors and actresses from different age groups and ethnicities.

No queerbaiting: the gay characters are featured up front and center in the lead roles: they are the protagonist, the antagonist and the sidekick. It´s also not left ambiguous like other series have done before to "play it safe".

Like WandaVision, the series eschews regular superhero tropes.

The portrayal of witches: it shows how not all witches will necessarily get along and they are not all the same. They all have different specialties and ethics, the witchcraft community is not presented as monolithic as it is often portrayed in other tv shows and movies.

It´s both hilarious and moving.

Seriously, just go watch it!!

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮⋆🧙🏻‍♀️🎃

[feathered-mushrooms]

Movie Night at the X mansion ✨

Drew this in 2022, just getting around to posting Still pretty proud of it(and the hidden references)