#coming soon
Nishinoya is DONE with the pining and is one wistful gaze away from locking Ennoshita and Tanaka in a closet until they finally confess
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Ed “Blackbeard” Teach (Taika Waititi), Our Flag Means Death
Taika, my beloved. Still working on Rhys Darby as Stede Bonnet, but I’ve been kicking my butt sculpting Ed’s beard, hair, and costume. Ed and Stede will be on sale in late May, because a doll I’m using for Stede won’t release until then.
☠️️☠️
If My Heart Were Mine
Niall steps forward with his mouthful of fruit. All he knows of time is that it exists. How it chooses to move is of no matter to him, yet he’s been unable to escape the way his name has travelled on the winds for too long now.
It’s time to return home.
-
“Am I the first?” Harry asks.
Wind whips around them, tears at their clothing and threatening to rip open their skin. Liam knocks his head back like he enjoys the sting of it.
“Not for long,” Liam murmurs.
-
“Is this really fuckin’ necessary?” Louis whines from over his shoulder.
Harry keeps his eyes on the creaking floorboards as he mutely follows.
It feels necessary; saving the world.
-
“You won’t like this part,” Niall says with a tight smile.
Harry doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to crawl into Niall’s lap and forget where they are and what they’re doing.
“I don’t like any part of it,” he admits.
-
“You’re not fucked,” a new voice calls from behind the curtain. “But it’s not… ideal.”
Nick removes his glasses to wipe them with his jumper. His shoulders are hunched, his swirls on the glass slow and drawn out, and he won’t look at Harry no matter how insistently he tries to regain his eye. Whatever it is he’s found, it’s not good.
Nick slips his glasses back on without looking up, just a small little shrug as he says, “You all have to die.”
-
A surge of heat alights Louis into spontaneous action. He rips out of Liam’s hold and dashes forward a few useless steps with a warning cry.
“Niall!” He yells with his whole chest, reaching out like he could push him out of harm’s way or pull him into safety.
The figure in the middle of the field turns.
-
“Louis.” Liam tugs on his wrist.
Louis flicks his gaze over, his body a statue. He still hasn’t breathed. Liam’s concerned eyes are the warmest brown of soft tilled earth under a summer sun.
And yet his voice is so filled with fear it waivers, his concern turning to caution when he asks, “What did you do?”
OT4 - Magical Realism - Est. 30k
Written for @onedirectionbigbang Round 5
Coming Soon to Ao3
Subscribe
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If My Heart Were Mine
Niall steps forward with his mouthful of fruit. All he knows of time is that it exists. How it chooses to move is of no matter to him, yet he’s been unable to escape the way his name has travelled on the winds for too long now.
It’s time to return home.
-
“Am I the first?” Harry asks.
Wind whips around them, tears at their clothing and threatening to rip open their skin. Liam knocks his head back like he enjoys the sting of it.
“Not for long,” Liam murmurs.
-
“Is this really fuckin’ necessary?” Louis whines from over his shoulder.
Harry keeps his eyes on the creaking floorboards as he mutely follows.
It feels necessary; saving the world.
-
“You won’t like this part,” Niall says with a tight smile.
Harry doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to crawl into Niall’s lap and forget where they are and what they’re doing.
“I don’t like any part of it,” he admits.
-
“You’re not fucked,” a new voice calls from behind the curtain. “But it’s not… ideal.”
Nick removes his glasses to wipe them with his jumper. His shoulders are hunched, his swirls on the glass slow and drawn out, and he won’t look at Harry no matter how insistently he tries to regain his eye. Whatever it is he’s found, it’s not good.
Nick slips his glasses back on without looking up, just a small little shrug as he says, “You all have to die.”
-
A surge of heat alights Louis into spontaneous action. He rips out of Liam’s hold and dashes forward a few useless steps with a warning cry.
“Niall!” He yells with his whole chest, reaching out like he could push him out of harm’s way or pull him into safety.
The figure in the middle of the field turns.
-
“Louis.” Liam tugs on his wrist.
Louis flicks his gaze over, his body a statue. He still hasn’t breathed. Liam’s concerned eyes are the warmest brown of soft tilled earth under a summer sun.
And yet his voice is so filled with fear it waivers, his concern turning to caution when he asks, “What did you do?”
OT4 - Magical Realism - Est. 30k
Written for @onedirectionbigbang Round 5
Coming Soon to Ao3
Subscribe
Post link
