This is a weird angsty soap opera thing for @seastarved and @high-seas-swan for the following surprisingly cheerful prompts. I’m not sure this is at all what you wanted:
- 66. K.
- 83. I paid for half and you ate three-quarters.
- 102. You hear that? That’s the sound of my awesomeness.
Canon-compliant future fic, because what was the point of Liam 2.0 if not to add future drama and self-loathing for Killian Jones I ask you? 1.7 words, K.
Title is from White Lies – Bigger Than Us which is a damn good tune.
Fairy tales are funny things.
They have their own rules, their own logic, their own way of meting out punishment to the wrongdoers and rewards to the deserving. It’s just that sometimes, the lines between the two aren’t all that clear cut.
She’d been horrified when Killian had first told her, his voice low and strained in the darkness of their bedroom as he admitted to the murder of his own father, to the rotten circumstances of his childhood, to the guilt he carried for orphaning his own brother and cursing him to the same loveless, desperate life that he’d had.
“I at least had Liam,” he’d said, forcing the words through gritted teeth, his fingers tight on the bedsheets, “but who did he have, Swan?”
She’d no answer for him, only the soft pressure of her fingers in his hair and the dampness on her cheeks when she lent down to kiss him, and he doesn’t ask again.
(this is bigger than us)
Published
It All Starts With a Dance 