this is titled “i-have-art-block-and-cant-produce-anything-except-bullshit-so-here-is-a-generic-¾-view-bust-of-lance-BUT-WITH-GLASSES.png” on my laptop.
idk this is a college au or something he’s reading a really smart astrophysics book or whatever offscreen that’s why he looks so serious it has nothing to do with the fact that I CAN’T DRAW ANYTHING EXCEPT GENERIC ¾ VIEW UNSMILING BUSTS RIGHT NOW
klance under the cut just in case some of y’all dont ship it
Because I need Emma to believe, in her heart, that Killian would never leave her…and I need her to fight to get him back.
There’s not enough vodka in the world to warm the ice running through her veins, but she’d gone along, let herself try to seek some comfort from her mother and Regina. It hadn’t worked. She knew it wouldn’t, but the walls of her big empty house were closing in on her with every breath she took and she’d just needed to get out. The bar had felt infinitely worse, full of concerned looks and shady bartenders, making her feel itchy in her own skin.
She should have just come here sooner. With each step she’s taken closer to the water she’s felt her own intuition grow stronger, more sure that something just isn’t right. Snow had told her that the Jolly Roger was still here, but seeing it now, empty and quiet, the holes her vulnerability had ripped into her heart suddenly feel smaller. Not mended, but less penetrable.
He wouldn’t leave. Not her. Not his ship. Not Storybrooke without saying a word. He loves her. He loves her so much that he was willing to rip out his own memories before hurting her, a misguided act to be sure, but brought out by the depth of a love defined as true. Not just by the Gods or whatever it is that deems love as true, but by the totality of everything that they have been through. They’ve fought for every moment they’ve had together and she knows he wouldn’t just walk away from this latest battle.
Something is wrong. So wrong that she wants to scream at herself for wasting an entire day thinking she’d been abandoned, letting herself fall back into a past life where the man she loves would hurt her with such a cowardly act. Killian is not that man. Not now, not ever. He makes mistakes, sure, but he would never abandon her. Immediately, she feels guilt surround her like a storm cloud, at her own thoughts, her own unwillingness to fight.
Digging her fingers into her coat pocket she pulls out Liam’s ring by the chain it’s thread through, the red stone catching the light overhead as she rolls it between her gloved fingertips. That feeling she’d had at home when she found it, when she’d first realized Killian had left it behind, it hits her with a renewed force. He gave her that ring in hopes of saving her soul, believing it could somehow keep her safe from the darkness. He’d asked her to come back to him.
She’s going to use it now to bring him back home.
Regina picks up her call on the second ring, but Emma doesn’t event waste a second on niceties.
“Regina, we need to do a locator spell. Now. Meet me at the docks.”