#spyglass eyes

[someone-elsa]

Spyglass Eyes (humans)

Default

Custom (151 swatches)

Contact Lenses (151 swatches)

Skin Details: Left lip Mole

Skin Details: Right lip Mole (ContactLenses2)

Accessories: Brow Ring Left (ContactLenses3)

Swatches: imgur Gallery ("Misc" contain hazel and red swatches from defaults)

no ads or other nonsense!

Patreon (free) // SFS folder

TOU in a nutshell: I’m pretty chill about people using my content to create something new, just credit and tag me but don’t put the new stuff (or my original) behind any kind of paywall or sketchy links.

👉 Masterlist for all Spyglass Eyes

@maxismatchccworld​ @mmoutfitters​​ @mmfinds​​ @emilyccfinds @alwaysfreecc @public-ccfinds​

I really appreciate all the reblogs, likes, comments ♥ If you use these (or my other CC) in your pictures, lookbooks etc, don’t hesitate to tag me :)

[casualavocados]

"All the atoms that were them, they've gone into the air and the wind and the trees and the earth and all the living things. They'll never vanish. They're just part of everything."

HIS DARK MATERIALS • The Amber Spyglass — 3.05 / Chapter 23: No Way Out — 3.06 / Chapter 26: The Abyss

[googlyeyesonmagiccards]

Back in my day this was a rare and we liked it!

[redgearsmovin]

found out rich's eyes aren't actually dark brown like i thought it was lol

[t4tstarvingdog]

i’ve gotta get out of this state. i have to see the rodeo again

[krjpalmer]

PC Magazine May 27, 2003

on Google Books

[icyrose-cat]

hi i said I'd post some catifications

[slocotion]

Seer of Spring, Fortune's Spyglass and The Bathyal Oracle ✨️ These 5" enchanted eye jesters will be available this Friday in my secret patreon shop (April 19th, at 21:00 GMT, worldwide shipping from Ireland, paypal only, prices in my tags!)

EDIT: SOLD OUT! Thank you everyone that came by the shop ❣️🙏

[someone-elsa]

Spyglass Eyes Masterlist

Updates

None yet 🙏

Available

Human eyes Default // Custom // Contact Lenses

To be done

Human eyes Heterochromia Cats and Dogs Default // Custom Cottage Living Animals Default Horse Ranch Animals Default // Custom // Heterochromia Acc .PSD files for recoloring

No plans for occult eyes at the moment!

[vxsellie]

TO WASH ASHORE - E.W

pairing. pirate!ellie williams x siren!reader synopsis. ellie wakes on a remote island, delirious and hallucinating as she spots a sea creature watching her from in the sea, your sharp eyes tracing her every movement. already deeming herself to be losing her sanity, ellie sees no harm in calling you over. notes. bare w me here guys idk what im doing, this idea is so random but im trying to do it justice at least ! MCD WARNING BTW wc. 4.3k

ellie williams has lived a life of barbarity and brutality, living among pirates as a woman in disguise. of course, nobody would allow a woman aboard a ship, not to even mention the ship of a notoriously infamous pirate renown for his perfection and flawlessness. so, her fellow crew members know her as eli. a man.

she'd been sailing in disguise for nigh a year now, growing close with the pirates and getting to know life at sea. she's even built quite a reputation for herself ⎯ elijah williams, cruel and callous. captain miller's golden boy.

"avast ye!" a barrelman calls out from the crow's nest.

those on deck turn their attention toward the man. ellie halts her work and lifts her head up toward where he sits, putting a hand to her forehead to block the sun from her eyes.

one of the gunners climbs the shrouds toward the barrelman, scaling the lines swiftly. he pauses when he reaches the top, the two men conversing for a short moment before the barrelman passes the gunner his spyglass. the gunner's eyes widen and he begins talking frantically to the barrelman, both unsure on what to do. ellie watches the exchange from the deck, highly invested in what got the men so worked up.

she hears footsteps approach her from behind and she turns around to face whoever it is that comes to her. captain miller. she instantly straightens her back, the quintessence of respect for the man of authority.

he waves a hand at her, "oh relax, williams. you haven't gotta act so on edge all the time."

"easy for you to say." she scoffs, deepening her voice an octave. "you ain't gotta change to be accepted. you're the captain, you can do whatever you damn well please 'n nobody can give you shit."

"i suppose," he agrees. he then turns the topic around, peering up at the men atop the crows nest. "what're they doin' up there?"

ellie shrugs, "i haven't a clue. seems troublesome, though."

miller hums in acknowledgment, staring up at the two men who grow more and more frantic with each passing second. they hand the spyglass to one another back and forth, taking turns looking through it and exclaiming things of nervosity. ellie follows their gazes, turning toward where they aim the glass.

there, in the distance, she can see the formation of clouds beginning to fester along the horizon. its barely noticeable from her place on the deck unless one knows what to look for. but, if she were up high, the sight of such a storm would likely terrify her.

"a storm." ellie says.

miller turns to look at her, a brow raised. "come again?"

"that's what they're lookin' at." she explains, meeting his gaze with her brow knitted. "a storm is brewin' out there and we're heading directly into it."

miller doesn't need any proof of this, believing ellie without hesitation. and, within mere minutes, of her declaration, he's appointed roles and tasks to each of the two hundred crew members aboard. gunners are tasked with moving the ballast and heavy barrels into the hull; the pilot is given a stern talking-to on how best to handle this situation; the riggers are told what to do and which lines to pull.

ellie, being the quartermaster, is tasked with keeping the crew at bay. miller tells her she needs to keep them calm and level-headed, give them hope and whatnot. she nods, hurrying to do just that.

as they near the looming clouds, the sea grows angered. waves come up over the taffrails, soaking into the floor of the deck. the winds pick up, forcing the riggers into action. she alternates between people, assuring them that they're doing well and they'll make it through this. however, as she watches the storm grow nearer, she isn't quite so sure of that herself.

she sees a group of brutes, standing around without a role yet. she approaches them with her hands on her hips and a hardened expression on her face. "the fuck are you doin'!? batten down the hatches!" she orders. instantly, the men rush into action, tying things down and putting things away for the coming weather.

ellie's heart beats frantically in her chest as rainfall begins to drench her. she pulls her hat farther over her face, making sure that her hair is all tucked away and her coat remains loose.

the sea grows in her rage, throwing massive waves over the bow. crew members begin to lose faith, their minds descending into despair. ellie tries to keep them at bay for the most part, but it's fruitless. their hopelessness is no longer malleable. she curses under her breath, knowing exactly why miller appointed her this role ⎯ if the pirates lose hope, they won't work as efficiently at their jobs. even if wreckage is inevitable, they'd at least have a chance.

she glances around, the gunners breathing quick as they shakily trek back and forth. the riggers grow fatigued in their mission of manning the sails, the pilot grips the wheel tightly but not confident enough. the ship teeters on the waves, thrashing around with each one.

"fuck," ellie mutters, wiping salt water from her eyes as she rushes to the helm. she ascends the stairs and approaches the pilot with as kind as gaze as she can muster whilst so irritated. "okay listen," she says, causing the pilot to turn to her with wide eyes.

"elijah?" the pilot questions, "what're ya doin' up here? go help the others."

"won't be able t' help the others if ya crash the ship." she points out. "move, let me steer."

the pilot appears reluctant, but eventually gives in and moves. ellie takes the wheel, flexing her fingers against the wooden material. the feel of the wheel in her hands is comforting, reminding her of how she first began as a pirate ⎯ a small pilot who blended into the background for months.

she tips her head at the pilot, wondering why the hell he's still standing there. "go help the gunners, tar."

"oh, uh⎯" he nods quickly, "yes, sir!"

with that, he scurries off to assist those in need. ellie watches from the helm as he bustles about, seeking out those who need an extra hand. once she's sure he's doing as he was told, she averts her attention back to the task at hand.

the waves are growing by the second, more and more water taken over the bow. a few of the swabbies dumping buckets of seawater overboard. she spins the wheel, hard. the ship swerves to the right, hitting the next comber at an angle. a few of the pirates stagger on their feet or fall over, but nobody falls overboard so ellie counts that as a win.

her change in angle allows the ship to take in far less water. the crew members will need to embrace their sea legs a bit more, but overall the damage is now far less. a few of the pirates whip their head in her direction, knowing their previous pilot would never have the balls to whip the wheel so hard. when they see ellie "elijah" at the helm, many of them seem relieved, knowing she's a great pilot. if anybody can aid them in survival, its her.

this goes on a few more times, yanking the wheel hard to the side as to avoid water filling the deck. but as time progresses and the rain refuses to die down, the amount of overtake grows unavoidable. by the fifth wave, the swabbies are forced to resume their buckets. by the eighth, more pirates rush to their aid.

ellie grits her teeth, mentally scolding herself for having not done more despite it being nigh impossible to avoid water overtake. she grips the wheel tightly, tossing the wheel to the side as the ship lurches in that direction. they hit the wave inelegantly, one of the riggers falling from a shroud and into the water with a deafening splash. she ignores it, unable to part her mind from the task at hand.

she hears footsteps bound up the stairs of the helm, rushing to her. she sideglances in their direction, not surprised to see captain miller approaching her.

"what're our chances?" he asks her, bracing a hand on the rail of the helm that overlooks the deck, having to grip onto it to avoid toppling over.

"of survival?" she asks, turning away from him and toward the next wave that rolls in their direction. "not lookin' too good, i'll tell ya that."

"give me a precent."

"about 18." she says with a sigh, the ship overtaking a huge amount of water from the bow, two swabbies getting washed away with the wave. she forces herself not to think about their deaths, tightening her grip on the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

"fuck that." miller declares. "we ain't dyin' out here."

"don't have much of a choice, i'm afraid." ellie tells him, yanking hard to the left, the wheel spinning out of control for a split second as the water catches control of the rudder. she fumbles to regain reign over it. once she does, her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as she shoots miller a look. "i'm doin' everything i can, but i can't promise it'll be enough. this storm ain't relenting."

he narrows his eyes at her. "what's your name, williams?"

"excuse me?" she questions, momentarily caught off-guard.

"ya deem me fool, do ya?" he questions. "i know you're a woman. if we're all dyin' anyway, at least tell me your real name. you should be able to tell someone before your life ends."

"ellie." her chest feels heavy as she speaks her actual name for the first time in a year, throat feeling tight with the foreign sound of it on her tongue. she blinks water out of her eyes and she tells herself it's rain, though she's not entirely sure.

"well," miller says softly, nigh inaudible over the heavy rainfall pattering loudly against the sea around them, "it's nice t' meet ya, ellie williams."

she turns her head to face him, brow knitting. their eyes meet and she gives him a gentle smile, eternally grateful for his acceptance of her despite her year-long life of lies. apparently, that split moment of distraction is all it took for the storm to hit. while ellie's distracted by the unexpected turn of events miller voices, mother nature decides to attack while her guard is down.

a huge wave swells over the bow, water yanking the ship forward into the sea. ellie yelps as the wheel yanks from her hand, rudder being tugged by the sudden change. as the bow goes down under the surface, the stern goes up in the air. ellie's feet slip out from under her, her backside slamming against the vertical deck. miller's do the same.

as ellie slides downward toward the water below them, she feels a hand grab her by the wrist. she looks up, breathing hard. miller is still holding tightly onto the railing with his right hand, his left now holding ellie's entire weight.

the ship is vertically positioned, the bow slowly sinking into the aggravated sea as the stern is high in the air, teetering unnaturally.

she stares up at miller with wide eyes, her mind reeling at the sudden change in atmosphere. she'd told them they were likely to die, but she hadn't actually been ready to face death straight-on. the feel of powerlessness licks up her spine with a cold touch of dread and despair.

"ellie!" miller shouts, her attention snapping up to him. "i ain't lettin' ya go! don't lose⎯"

his words are cut off by a barrel coming down from the helm and hitting him in the head. the heavy weight of the wood knocks him out cold, his fingers going slack on the railing. they both instantly fall from the stern. she screams as she falls, sound interrupted as her body collides with the ocean. her throat burns, eyes stinging as she forces them to open in the water.

she looks around under the surface, ignoring the agonizing sting in her retinas. she's surrounded by wood and debris and fallen pirates. buts she's looking for one in particular. joel miller.

he's nowhere to be seen.

her heartbeat picks up, her lungs contracting with lack of oxygen. her mind begins to swim, unable to comprehend all that she's lost within a mere few seconds. she feels herself begin to sink as her eyes go dark, the weight of her body being dragged down by the merciless pull of gravitation.

she shuts her eyes, allowing the earth to pull her under the water and towards its core. consciousness plays with her, pulling her in and out of it. not a single coherent thought runs through her mind as she sinks down, down, down,

just as she comes to terms with death, shaking its hand and accepting its sudden control over her, something else grabs her other hand. something soft, a gentle caress of fingers wrapping around her wrist. life.

ellie's chest constricts as she shoots up, the feel of water in her lungs as she gags on it. the feel of pain welcomes her before the feel of relief does. her throat burns, her body is weak, her eyes sting. everything aches so very agonizingly that nothing else really matters to her.

she rolls over, getting on her hands and knees as she coughs and hacks water from deep within her chest. once she manages to level out her breathing enough to form an intelligible though, she realizes what she's on.

her fingers dig into soft sand, the sediment wedging under her nails. she lifts her head, eyes wide in shock. she's on an island, tiny enough she can see right across to the water on the other side. she looks around some more, taking in the scarce amount of shrub and grass.

she huffs out a laugh, disbelief and delirium encircling the sound as it slips past her split lips. the light chuckle soon turns into boisterous cackling, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes she's alive. she's breathing, feeling, living.

through blurred vision, she grazes her eyes across the island, once again taking in the beautiful sight of it. she leans back on her knees, sitting on her folded feet. here gaze suddenly snags on something lying a few feet from her. a body. she narrows her eyes, praying that this island isn't inhabited. but when she recognizes the shape of it, she instantly rushes to its side.

captain miller. joel.

she crouches beside him, turning him onto his backside. she leans down, pressing an ear to his mouth, desperation filling her up as she listens for any sign of life. then she hears it. breathing.

it's croaky and crackled, but breathing nonetheless. she straightens. he's alive. once he wakes, he'll cough a bit and be in indescribable pain, but he's alive. she moves him onto his side to avoid him choking on his own saliva, tipping his head into the sand a bit.

her mind is moving at a million thoughts per second, ellie can hardly keep up with her own brain. she leans back, staring at joel's head as she breathes heavily, trying to grasp what exactly has happened. only an hour ago, she was⎯ wait. how long ago was that? for all she knows it may have been days since the shipwreck. it may have been months. she looks at the sky, hoping to be able to tell time by it somehow.

the sky is clear, blue and brilliant without a cloud in sight. but her clothes are still wet and so are joel's. plus, she isn't starving to death yet, so she decides it's only been a few hours.

her mind races, suddenly stuttering on one thought in particular: who the fuck got them out of the water?

if it were another crew member, they'd be on the island with her and joel. if it were another ship crew, they'd be dead before they could reach the depth of which she'd sank by then.

she traces her eyes along the horizon regardless, hoping she might see a ship or something to point toward who's responsible for this. that's when she sees you.

her brows raise at the sight of a girl so far out in the surf, water up to your shoulders. your hair is wet, clinging to your neck and forehead. you aren't wearing a top, bare shoulders peeking from the surface.

ellie squints her eyes, wondering if she's going crazy or not. the heat is getting to her, clinging to the wet clothes that soak her skin. her hat is missing, auburn hair now askew atop her head. she puts a hand to her hairline, shielding sun from sight. sure enough, there you remain.

gorgeous and luminary in your presence, out there like a beacon of hope amid chaos. water droplets run down your face, sparking like fragmented glass across your skin.

"hey!" she calls out, unable to stop herself. "c'mere!"

you remain in place for a long moment, tilting your head at her slightly. she worries, for a second, whether you truly were imagined purely out of her mind. honestly, how could someone so beautiful be out here right now? in the middle of the ocean. just standing there. it's impossible.

just as doubt traces up her spine, you begin forward.

your movements are languid, almost like you're made of water yourself. the tangible embodiment of the sea, beautiful and mysterious just like the ocean. ellie finds herself unable to look away, a wordless spell cast to immobilize her.

you continue forward, bare chest veiled by your long wet hair. like a fish on a hook, ellie crawls toward you. her jaw is slackened, eyes sparkling. you keep most your body in the water as you near her, lower waist never breaking the surface. ellie doesn't give much thought to it, to enamored by the sight of you.

you stop at the waterline, lying on your stomach. you bury your elbows in the sand, resting your chin on the palms of your hands. ellie stops right in front of your, her eyes wide as they search your face.

"...beautiful..," is all ellie is capable of muttering. you tilt your head at her, slow and steady. she continues to stare at you, awe-struck. the smallest smile manages to tug at your lips and ellie finds her heart speeding at the mere sight of it. you shut your eyes, grinning at her.

"thank you." you say.

ellie's ears perk at the sound. your voice is music, tone a melody. she can't help but yearn for it to be played on loop. over and over until she takes her final breath.

"y-you⎯" words feel foreign in her mouth, nothing coming out correctly. she shakes her head, touches of crimson staining her cheeks. she blinks a few times as she refocuses on your face, taking in every feature that adorns it. "you're⎯"

"what?" you croon, a gentle hum from the back of your neck. she finds herself leaning in at the soft sound, needing to be closer. needing to hear you better. your eyes sparkle at the sight of her desperation, scooting farther back ever so slightly. "i'm what?"

a breath escapes her lips as she stares. "you're beautiful."

"mm," you sound, blinking at her slow and seductive. she falls for it. of course she does, they all do. that's your curse.

"how⎯" she blinks down at the sight of you in the water, having emerged from the surf all on your own. "how'd you⎯"

you tilt your head again, though this time for another reason. you do it as to move it out of her line of sight, allowing her eyes to rest on the tail that grows from your hips. it's about five feet in length, blue and shiny. the scales catch the light, glittering like magic. the fins are translucent, filtering sunlight through the thin material.

she stares at it, unable to tear her eyes away. whether that be to delirium or adoration, you're unsure. so is she.

"i saved you," you mutter, drawing her gaze back to your face. your brows are furrowed, sincerity knitting them with a thin thread of deception. she blinks, the threads blurring together into a gentle curiosity. she leans in again. you lean back. the palms of her hands are now in the water, encircling her wrists with rocking waves against the shore. she continues to crawl toward you. out of mere pity, you refrain from easing back more. it'd be too easy that way ⎯ killing a starved pirate who's been marooned.

"a-and joel?" she blinks, completely unaware of your moral dilemma. she's equally unaware of the way you had been slowly easing into the water. somehow, they never seem to feel the cool liquid around them.

"yes." you confirm, narrowing your eyes at the girl and her soaked form. "yes, i saved your old captain as well."

she exhales, enamored by the information. you take this time to soak in the sight of her. her hair is damp, short auburn strands clinging to her face and neck. her thin white linen shirt is clad against her torso and chest, buttons undone at the top. her heavy brown coat hangs off of her, clearly having been made for a man. her black jeans are baggy, also meant for a male. as are her oversized boots.

"thank you, i⎯" she stammers, licking her lips in thought. "i-i don't know how to⎯"

"hush," you whisper, voice tangling with the waves crashing against the sand. the melody is the same, sediment washing from the shore as ellie does. you lift your hands, cradling her face with cold, wet fingertips. she leans into the touch, her eyes lidded and pupils blown. your gaze softens, "you needn't thank me, love."

"but⎯"

"shh," you place the pad of your thumb on her lips, silencing her. your eyes drop to her mouth, tracing your finger along her bottom lip. she parts them, breath hitching. "i saved you because i was unable to bare the sight of your death."

she doesn't respond, her mind jumbled. you continue, pulling her deeper into the water as she crawls toward you.

"so lovely, so undeserving," you whisper, the water now at her knees, forcing her to stand in the water with you. your hands remain on her face, thumb running along the pink skin of her mouth. she breathes heavily, desperate for more, completely under your alluring spell of seduction.

"closer," she mumbles, likely unaware she'd even uttered the word.

you oblige, the water now at your waists. your tail treads water as she legs continue to inch toward you. she moves forward, never stopping, never thinking, never able to. you stop, allowing to to ease closer. she does.

she braces her hands on your hips, fingers caressing the scales with gentility. so different from anything else you'd experienced. normally, when you seduce sailors, they're lustful and desperate and rough. she, however, is kind. curious wonder strikes her eyes, flecks of love already catching her pale green irises. they remind you of sea grass.

you decide to offer her a kindness before the inevitable death that's to overcome her.

you lean in, the waves crashing at your chests, pushing your toward her. you listen, the ocean being your religion, your beacon of a deity. she does the same, obviously. you continue to cradle her face as she continues to encircle your hips, delicacy lacing her every movement.

you press your lips to hers, your bewitched mind incapable of feeling anything aside from an insatiable hunger for her death. ellie, on the other hand, is seeing stars from the mere feel of her mouth on yours. the way your lips move with such calculated precision, the way your teeth nip at the lip you'd been tracing. it's intoxicating. the taste of you is more addictive than any glass of rum she'd ever had.

sea salt and passion line your lips, salty with its passion. she leans in as your lean away, careful to keep your lips connected the whole way down. while ellie is practically unraveling at the seams, you ease into the water.

the trick here, you've learned, is to kiss your victim. that way, they're already holding their breaths with their eyes closed. you can ease them into the water without so much as a fight.

unfortunately for her, ellie is no different.

she follows your every movement, unaware of how the ocean begins to rise. the way the water begins to clog her ears. you drag her down, filling her lungs with your own tainted oxygen that you're not in need of.

you're now far past the surface, ellie continuing to kiss you despite the way her hands go slack around your waist and her breath struggles to maintain itself. you hate the knowledge of knowing you'd killed such a beautiful soul. but, more than that, you love the taste of her death.

the way death holds her hand all the way down; the way her skin turns to an icy blue that mocks your tail; the way her mouth goes slack against yours; the way her eyes are already closed; the way her lungs constrict.

she dies without a fight, completely uncharacteristic for a woman who'd fought her whole life. for a woman who went disguised as a man for so many years, all of her walls were let down for you ⎯ a mysterious creature of the sea who's name she hadn't even bothered to learn.

and as she does, her last thoughts are of your face and the sound of your voice. she dies with a soft contentment in knowing you were what held her as she was put to an eternal slumber.

if her death could be something of benefit to you, she considers it to have been worth it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist : @luvsturniolo @zzombiegirl

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist : @juptology @thefirstromantics @flutterdasher @dinakisser

[googlyeyesonmagiccards]

Back in my day this was a rare and we liked it!

[ani-craft]

(OP's tags)

sobbing and crying about the fact that Martyn can never say what he means especially about his emotions. He can wear the dogwarts banner on his waist, give him a life, give him netherwart in secret but he can’t tell ren or the world that he cares. Instead he hides behind his words (I was going to betray ren) because that’s all he can do when he knows there is something Watching him, preying on his vulnerability

[funkyplantguy]

OOH OOH, Mumbo putting the big ol' bootycheeks on the Cub billboard and then stepping back and looking at his work and feeling kinda 😳‼ about it

CACKLED OUT LOUD READING THIS ASK AND IMMEDIATELY SCREENSHOTTED IT TO SEND TO TWO OF MY FRIENDS. anyway, here's...uh...this! -

"hiya, mumbo, what doin?" "studying." "studying...what?" "cub's ass." "...i'm sorry, what?"

mumbo turned to face the avian, folding his spyglass in on itself with a clean, satisfying schwick. honestly, grian sounded much more confused about all of this than he had any right to be - it wasn't as if he didn't do the same thing with scar. arguably, what mumbo was doing (standing at a respectable distance, using his spyglass to peer into the strange labrynth cub was currently navigating) was much better than what grian did when he was bored. he was going to give scar a heart attack, one of these days, with his propensity for perching in trees and dive-bombing the man the second he stepped within range. so, really - grian had no ground to stand on, not with this. "cub's ass," he repeated, "don't act like you don't watch scar build for hours just on the off-chance that he'll take his shirt off" "that's different," grian grumbled, swinging so that he was hanging upside-down off of the branch he'd previously been perched on. "we've been together for years. it'd be weird if i didn't want to see him naked. cub, on the other hand...i didn't know you liked him like that." "oh, i don't," mumbo dismissed (ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the suggestion), "i'm just bored. and someone needs to finish that sign you put up." "sign?" grian asked, peering owlishly at him. "which...oh, the one in the shopping district?" "mmhm. i should have known you wouldn't do the back - but no fuss, i'll handle it." "i...the back? mumbo, what do you mean? it's a billboard, it doesn't need a back." mumbo chuckled lightly to himself, sliding the spyglass into the pocket of his slacks. ah, grian - always skirting around the issue at hand. typical. "i - hey, don't walk away from me - what do you mean, it needs a back? what are you going to add to it? mumbo? mumbo?" a few hours later, grian had his answer. and mumbo could tell that he was impressed (if the wide, round eyes and gaping mouth mumbo was met with as he glided down from the back of the sign meant anything). scar, on the other hand... "no way!" the shirtless man shrieked, from where he was sprawled out on the grass next to his partner. "you gave him an ass! you gave cub an ass! this is great! oh - mumbo, you've really outdone yourself with this one." "mumbo," grian interjected, glaring down at scar with a look that screamed don't encourage him! "what the fuck." "what do you mean? the sign needed a back. i added one. it's simple, really." "oh man. grian - grian, this guy's down so bad. it's so funny - i should tell cub. i should tell cub - can i tell cub? please? please can i tell cub?" "no, scar, you cannot tell cub - mumbo. mumbo, are you sure you don't fancy cub? i mean...you just spent two hours recreating his ass, for goodness sake!" mumbo hummed to himself, turning to survey the sign behind him and...oh, goodness, he'd given cub a bbl. did cub's ass really look like that? it had to - he'd studied it for hours, diligently, so he could get it just right...maybe he'd remembered it incorrectly? maybe he'd need to go back to the source to examine it just a bit further...

oh. oh.

yeah, okay. maybe he understood where grian was coming from. "hey guys - oh, hey, mumbo. did you...is that an ass?" "yes." "huh. nice. good job." "thanks, cub."

[fanaticsnail]

Sweet Baby Boy

Masterlist Here

Word count: 1,200+

Synopsis: Your spouse ripped the arm off a young, enemy captain. You feel sympathy for the baby boy, and ensure to tell him as such.

Themes: Spouse!Benn Beckman x gn!reader, platonic!Eustass Kid x gn!reader, Kid has a praise kink, Kid enjoys being babied, fluff, swearing.

Notes: this is just a silly, crack one-shot based on a follow up to the "You Shot A Baby" dialogue post. It's funny, when I write for Eustass Kid, I always seem to want to write for Benn Beckman.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Shanks elevated his spyglass with his right hand, attempting to maneuver it to get the best angle to glance at the deck of the Victoria Punk from his position on the Red-Force. He elevates his right knee, balancing his elbow atop it to anchor his elbow against it.

“What did you say they were doing, again?” The redhead called to his first-mate over his shoulder, “Where were they going?”

Beckman, who remained stoic in silence as he stamped out his twelfth cigarette in the span of twenty minutes with his boot heel, huffed and exasperated breath as he sauntered over beside Shanks.

“Go on, big guy,” Shanks encouraged him with a small nudge, “What did they say, hm?”

“They said-...” Beckman bit back a snarl through his grimace, “...-that Captain Eustass Kid is a baby, and needs to be coddled and treated as such after I shot him.”

“They said, what?” Shanks' shock had him drop his spyglass, lunging forward to hastily catch the item in his hand, “Don't they know how dangerous he is? How violent and unpredictable he is? How he nearly took apart our crew with his bare hands before you blew the damn thing off-.”

“-I let 'em know,” he growled in fury, “And they simply would not listen to reason.”

A booming voice erupted from the Victoria Punk, prompting Shanks to elevate his spyglass to his face further and seek out its source. There was nothing on the seas that could have prepared him for the sight he was met with.

Dropping his hand from his face, he wordlessly handed over the metal eye-piece to his first mate with a shake of his head. Beckman snatched the object and raised it to his eye, his own shock evident on his face.

There you were, Benn Beckman's spouse and long-time lover, sitting on Eustass Kid’s topdeck throne atop his knee: cradling the large Captain’s head against your chest, with your lips curved upwards in a pout. Beckman was not an avid lip-reader, but he could just imagine the praises and soothing words you were cooing down at the violent captain.

“You've gotta be shittin’ me, Darlin’.” Beckman whispered to himself, noticing the way you were stroking Kid’s right cheek with the back of your hand, pressing your lips in gentle kisses against the sensitive, scarred flesh of his left cheek.

As if sensing a presence, you turned your head to glance down the barrel-end of the augmentative glass within the metal cylinder, promptly extending a crude gesture with your middle finger at your long-time partner.

Beckman rumbled a growl within his chest, handing back the spyglass to his captain before digging in his pocket for another cigarette.

“Still not a baby-,” he grunted, igniting the tip of his cigarettes.

-

“-Such a big, brave boy,” you cooed at the enemy captain, stroking his hair and pressing another chaste kiss against his scarred temple, “Taking on a legendary captain of incredible caliber, only to have such violence be your welcome.”

Eustass Kid was eating up every ounce of affection you were presenting to him, nuzzling into your chest and embracing you with his right arm hooked firmly around your waist.

“So, so strong. Such a beautiful, brave baby boy,” you continued to affirm into him, a small hiccup fleeing from the red-head tinkerer’s lips.

When you showed up on a dinky row boat and bound it to the hull of the Victoria Punk, he had half a mind to order Massacre Soldier Killer to cleave your left arm off. He knew you were the spouse of Shanks' first mate. ‘An eye for an eye, an arm for an arm,’ he rationalized.

What he didn't expect was for you to immediately begin treating him with the worshipful doting praises a parent would give to an injured child.

And he didn't expect to like it.

“What the fuck?” was the first thing uttered from his lips as you began cradling him against yourself with praises of his bravery and skillful hands. As he felt each small touch granted against his skin, his secondary reaction was, “Oh, what the fuck…?”

He was reveling in the warmth presented to him by your hands, the love and soothing motions you were treating him with. He had no idea how to behave himself beneath such a beautiful expression of sympathetic empathy - especially at the hands of someone he assumed was his enemy.

“He will never come near you again, sweet boy,” you whispered to him, soothing circles from the pads of your thumbs drew patterns against his shoulders, “Not mean, old, naughty, violent Benn Beckman. Not any of the Red-Hair Pirates-.”

“-Aren’t you a Red-Hair Pirate?” Killer spoke over your shoulder, prompting Kid to shoot him a look.

“Shut up, Kil. Let me have this,” he growled at his First-Mate, leaning into your arms with a broad grin, “T-Tell me again? Tell me what I am, again?”

“Oh, you poor, sweet baby boy,” you cooed down at him, witnessing as his eyes softened as he looked up at you from his position cradled into your chest, “So brave, so strong.”

“And my arm? What about my arm?” Kid prompted you, basking under the radiance of your unbridled compliments.

“Such a clever boy, too. Using your abilities to create a masterpiece of violent art, which doubles as an artificial limb,” your pouted lips depicted a soft and melodic tone while uttering your praise.

Eustass Kid hummed in thought, squeezing your hip within his right hand that was woven around your waist. He bounced you a little atop his knee, noticing the way you smiled down at him with a small shake of your head.

“You sure you want to go back to your Captain?” he arched his brow up at you, “I'm a red-head with a missing left arm. Wouldn't be that much of a stretch if I were to captain you.”

“Unfortunately, no, sweet baby boy,” you smiled, giving his cheek a gentle tap, “As much as I want to keep giving you praises and sweet gentle kisses-.” You attempted to stand from the young captain's lap, laughing as his hand grasped at your hip to hold you close.

“-I really should be getting back to my wonderful, very angry-.” you began, Eustass Kid's voice covering your own with his gruff tone.

“-Very violent, masochistic, sadistic, terrible spouse who hurt me by ripping my fuckin’ arm off,” he growled, turning his lips to mirror your prior pouted expression, “Me. Your poor, defenseless, sweet-,” he kisses your cheek in an uncharacteristic peck, “-innocent, baby boy.”

He relinquished his hold on your waist, rising with you to your feet and taking your left hand within his right. He ushered you to the small dingy, aiding you as you placed your feet into the boat. Before he allowed you the luxury of leaving the Victoria Punk, he drew you in one final time and whispered in your ear.

“Now, out of respect to you and your doting and worshipful words you offered me,” he raised his right hand, hooking your hair over your ear, “I'm going to allow you the luxury of a twenty minute head start.”

Your eyes widened, glancing at his whisky-tanned gaze which held such playful amusement. Lips opening and closing and flustered, he chuckled at your flabbergasted expression.

“Get paddling, Sunshine.”

[crowpickingss]

Hiiii can I maybe request a hook x gn reader where some princess gives him a love potion and true loves kiss comes in clutch?

True Loves Kiss

hook x gn! reader

summary: hook asks bridget for a love potion to give to you. Instead of making you fall in love it makes you fall asleep

warnings: magic

a/n: love this request hope you don’t mind I changed the princess to bridget I felt it suit her more

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The first time hook saw you his heartbeat went crazy. He would often watch you from around the corner or through his spyglass. One day while he was watching you at your locker Morgie approached him.

“Spying again I see” Hook jumped when he heard his friends voice “What no, I’m just picking Uli’s next target” Morgie lightly punched hook in the arm “Yeah sure, look I’ve seen you spying a lot” Hooks cheeks turned pink

“Look I’m not judging, but if your this obsessed I would ask Bridget” Hook audibly groaned “Why Bridget, she’s so annoying” Morgie laughed at hooks annoyance “She makes love cupcakes, give one to y/n and boom you two are in love”

The next day hook reluctantly knocked on Bridget’s door. When she opened the door she was surprised to see hook “Look Bridget I wouldn’t normally come here but, I need a favour” Ella appeared behind Bridget “Why should she give you a favour, for all we know your going to use it against her” Hook bring his hand to his hip “I won’t I promise, I just need one of those cupcakes..”

Bridget smiled and welcomed him into her dorm “Which one, I have lots” Hook tilted from side to side in embarrassment “I need uh the love one..” Hook stood silent as Bridget gave him one cupcake “Just give this to the lucky person and make sure that you are the first person they see” Hook nodded and left Bridget’s room.

After the last class he found you sitting by a tree reading a book. He approached you holding the cupcake “y/n, did you want this Bridget gave it to me but I don’t want it” You looked up from your book “Yeah sure” He watches in anticipation as you take the cupcake and bite it.

He looks into your eyes as the form hearts “Hook I-“ His smile quickly fades when you fall asleep right then. He grabs your shoulder and shakes you trying to wake you up. In a slight panic he picks you up and carries you back to his and Morgie’s shared dorm.

He places you down onto his bed and runs to ask Morgie for help “Morgie there you are, you’re stupid plan didn’t work” Morgie turned to face hook a bit confused “What do you mean” Hook grabbed his hand and dragged him over to you “See, I asked Bridget for the stupid cupcake and now they are asleep” Morgie chuckled “Have you tried waking y/n up” Hook looked at Morgie with an angry look “Y/n won’t wake up, I’ve been trying for a while” Morgie’s smirk dropped.

Hook and Morgie both walked over to Bridget’s dorm “Oh hey boys, everything alright” Hook pushed past her and entered her dorm “Your cupcake didn’t work” Bridget looked at hook in confusion “What do you mean” Hook groaned “I mean the person who I gave it too fell asleep” Bridget giggled but stopped when she saw hook glaring her down “To wake the person, they need a true loves kiss” Hook rolled his eyes

“Can you stop messing with me and actually tell me how to wake them up” Bridget smirked and crossed her arms “That is the reason, have you never heard of it” Hook shook his head and shoved Morgie out of Bridget’s room and back to their room.

When they finally arrived hook approached your sleeping body and leaned down. Took a deep breath and kissed you on the lips. He moved back and watched as your eyes returned to normal and as you woke up. You looked over to hook and stood up “Thanks for the cupcake” He stopped you before you left

“Do you feel different” He held a firm grip on your shoulder “No?” He sighed but let you go “Bye James, I love you” His head turned to face you as you walked out “Love you too?” He turned to Morgie “What just happened” Morgie laughed “Your greatest wish I guess”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[rafent]

The serpent of infinity ended at the tail where it began. An invisible chessboard wiped clean and set again its starting pieces. Griss and Rafal once more seated across each other in readiness to be fed, idle and conversational, their mundane arrangement reflected that of the very beginning to their visitation. Anomaly could nearly be deemed nonexistent if not for the gaps in memory both sensed to be true, albeit to varying degrees. By the other man's response, a pair of truths unveiled in one fell swoop; first, that the experience was not in fact to Rafal's imagination; second, that the details of it were not preserved equally across minds.

'I believe the saying around here is dinner and a show,' he thought to quip but didn't, instead quiet and enervated. Tired as any dreamer in the wake of over-active visions that seared themselves behind retinas and strained even the toughest fibers of the being. Echoes reverberating still like loud ringing in a hollow vessel, malaise in a heart scarcely known to how and why. But he tucked those damages elsewhere - hauled lamina over the wound.

Without much remembrance though Griss was, his lord commanded far better recollection. It was a matter of. . .his own memories, after all. As he considered the disparity between them, it didn't register as being totally unfavorable either. Was it curse that he alone recalled the exact nature of irregularity, his past made to be relived, or blessing that Griss seemingly had not retained the specifics; the joined hearts and hands of that secret moment between failure and coward? Their sentimental vista sealed off from view, intended only as company to the dragon's grave?

Both, he easily decided. An undeniable matter of both. "Then we are the same, and it is unlikely to be coincidence. My recollection of the past few minutes too feels muddled. Both of us by the hand of some extraneous effect, I would now imagine."

Their initial conversation entailed his mockery of superstition and those who gave the area a wide berth in homage to it. Rafal did not find himself supplying the same opinion twice. His skeptical stare shot out the window, the gashes in the sky stranger now than they'd been at first outlook. One question answered, and another arose; if their shared experiences were no falsehood, then what could be determined the cause? 'Those rifts up there—they're bad news.' Once more, the local rumors came to mind. Unnatural foul play lent itself to consideration.

"We were provided beverages, but they could not have been tampered with by the tavern keeper. I observe no likely motive from him, and sensed no penchant for magic in the ruffians we defeated. Other forces must lie responsible." He turned back to Griss, newly unsettled, newly settling, tugged in several directions and deciding firmly upon one: "Once our food arrives, we will eat quickly. The sooner we leave here the better." The limbo of uncertainty at best, invasion into yet another memory at worst, neither would be suffered.

They couldn't be rid of this place a second too soon in his eyes.

...

( 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 )

◜  ₊  —  𝓡  ˚  ₊ 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌