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pigeonwhumps · 2 years

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@octopus-reactivated second drabble from your ask! For Robyn this time (couldn't get it to work with Túathal, he didn't want it).

From this ask game, Robyn and Túathal's masterlist is here.

This is set much later on in the timeline than we're at now.

🥰 – post-nightmare cuddles

Taglist: @annablogsposts @kixngiggles

CWs: captivity, nightmares, non-human whumpee (merman), human whumpee, multiple whumpees, dream vivisection and organ removal (not graphic)

Robyn can hear screaming. It's dark, and the scream reverberates around him, bouncing off surfaces. He can't tell where it's coming from but he knows whose it is.

Túathal's.

He can't tell which direction the merman's in, but he takes off running anyway only to smack straight into a wall. A soft yellow light winks on behind him and he turns, dreading what he already somehow knows he'll see.

He can see a silhouette of a merman struggling and someone approaches it, carrying a net over his shoulder. Robyn starts running towards them but it's like he's standing still, as fast as he goes he isn't getting any closer, and then he blinks and there's a knife, the man's slicing into Túathal's chest and there's so much screaming and finally, finally, Robyn makes it to him but it's too late, Túathal's not breathing, his eyes are shut. The man now has a knife in one hand and Túathal's dripping heart in the other, and he opens his mouth and Túathal's voice comes out.

What?

He's saying something urgent in that deep, melodic speech of his, and Robyn struggles to understand it even as the man lifts the knife again, plunging it towards Robyn, who's frozen.

Robyn wakes with a yell and shoots up, head bashing against something solid, a clawed hand on his shoulder, something fairly soft under him, a low, melodic, scared voice talking to him.

Wait. That's Túathal's voice. But... it's not screaming in pain...

As he becomes more aware, Robyn realises that they're in bed, on a ship, gently rocking on the ocean. They're safe, Túathal isn't caught, he's not going to be cut up, they're safe now.

He feels his heart slow. Relatively safe, anyway. Túathal's not on show anymore, Robyn's not having to put himself in danger to rescue him either.

Robyn looks up as Túathal curls an arm around him, holding him close to his chest and lying them both back down, Robyn underneath. He's not covered in blood, there's no screaming, yes he looks worried but not with the intensity of fear as he did in that enclosure. It's a soft worry. Robyn reaches out a hand to touch his chest.

"They were going to cut your heart out," Robyn says shakily, knowing that Túathal can't understand but he has to say it. He can't be free of it if he won't say it. "He cut your heart out and you were dead, and you were screaming so much. I couldn't help, I couldn't reach you in time."

Túathal doesn't understand English (or Irish, actually, this time, Robyn realises – he's started speaking Irish in his panic), but he must realise something because he moves Robyn's hand carefully until it's over his heart, covering it with the hand not circling Robyn. Robyn lies there, feeling the merman's warmth, heart beating fiercely under his palm.

There's... singing, he realises. Túathal's singing. It sounds like a lullaby, and maybe it is. On this small bed they can now share, on a ship where Túathal can only switch to his mer form in the dead of night (like now, apparently), with no idea where they're headed, they both certainly need it. It's... calming.

"Your heart's too big," murmurs Robyn, pulling Túathal down on him just a little until he forms a warm merman blanket, "couldn't remove it if he tried."

#comfort drabble #answered ask #robyn oc #tuathal oc #out of the water #pirate whumpee #pirate whump #mer caretaker #merwhump #whumpee x caretaker

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whumpwillow · 2 years

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Have you ever thought of Mermaid/siren whumper and Pirate whumpee ? Because I have and it's so underrated!! Especially when it's pirate Whumpee having to rely on the siren/mermaid and whimper taking advantage of that.

I'd love to hear your thoughts (or additions bc there's never enough content w this trope :') )

oh neat!

#willow answers #answered asks #whump #pirate whump #pirate whumpee #siren whumper

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snowshowerwriting · 2 years

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OC drop #2

This is one of my most beloved oc <3

This man's name is Ezekiel. As one can tell, with the reference, he's been through hell and back. He shows his leadership through his actions and his commands. Zeke's respected amongst his people, though others don't appreciate him as much as he is a pirate. As a result, he has gotten caught a few unsuspecting time and has been mixed up in a few sticky situations, even having been betrayed by a friend once. He's got a strong hold on himself, however, and surpassed.

Most anyone who's known him always would agree on one thing. He's a quiet, reserved man. Sometimes even grumpy. However, he's got a gentler side to him, mostly seen when he's gardening and tending to children. Although it's seldom seen, there's a heart in there <3

Fun fact- Ezekiel's also multilingual! Portuguese is his first language, but he can speak fluent french and Spanish. He's decent at English.

Yet to draw him in his captain's coat and full outfit, but it's got a blue and gold colorscheme

#oc art #original character #pirate oc #medieval fantasy #pirate whumpee

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whump-side · 6 months

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Rescue is on the wave way ! Continuation of this

#whump #whump art #underwater whump #pirate whump #rescue #the hair is a paid actor #from now on i wanna draw Whumpees with majestic hair #i mean look at that #it adds so much drama

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kabie-whump · 2 months

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Whumpee with wind powers being tied to the mast of a ship and forced to use their magic to make it the fastest ship on the sea.

Bonus points if Wumpee's magic is physically and/or mentally draining to use for an extended period of time.

#yes im thinking about ventis #whump tropes #whump community #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump ideas #nonhuman whumpee #magic whump #pirate whump #ventisposting #ventis

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Febuwhump: Day Seventeen

Prompt - hostage situation (#febuwhump)

TW: tied up, ropes, helpless, pirates, intimate Whumper, explosion, fighting, violence, mass killing implied

*~*~*~*~*

The sea was calm. The weather fair, the morning was yawning awake, blue skies rising with the sun, the dark blues disappearing beyond the horizon. It was a cycle of change that lay before his eyes, the fresh dew cast a mist on the water… and yet something, on the wind perhaps, was unsettling Locke as he maintained his chartered course. Something unexpected was turning with the tide, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

His first mate approached him, eyes on the horizon as they sailed at half-speed. “Admiral,” first mate said in greeting, the lilt of a question hanging off the last syllable.

“Do you feel the shift in the dew, first mate?”

First mate followed Locke’s line of sight to the lazily rising sun. “No, Admiral. However, that is not my station.”

“What is your station, mate?”

“To ensure you’re ship shape, Admiral,” said First Mate with a cheeky grin. “I trust your instincts; I would sail into hell if you ordered me too and recruit the best dead sailors of the underworld to navigate us to the living one again.”

Admiral laughed, a smile appearing on his face at Mate’s words.

“And what do your instincts say today, Admiral?” Mate asked.

“That we need to fly at full speed and reach the next port before this ill-begotten wind is at our backs.”

“Sir,” said first mate with a nod. First mate walked promptly down the steps of the ship onto the poop deck and let out an unmerciful commanding shout that could wake the dead. “Make-Ready Men!”

There was a ruckus below deck, a few curses and sudden thumps from the crew waking to the sound of First mate’s bellows.

“Heave the sails to full speed!”

Admiral laughed again when First mate turned to look at him over their shoulder, dark eyes bright with mischief. Then First mate’s eyes widened as they stared passed Locke to something behind him. Locke turned too.

A black ship twice the size of Admiral’s was on them, which had not been there a mere moment before. “Admiral!”

First mate yelled and Admiral heard sudden panicked footsteps run towards him as a chord of rope enveloped him, binding his arms to his sides with one unmerciful pull and lifting him from his own ship. Admiral gasped as the rope closed tighter and tighter around him the more he struggled. His feet left the deck of his ship, his eyes on First Mate who was standing where Locke was not a moment ago, reaching up desperately trying to catch Locke before he was completely out of reach.

First mate’s fingers brushed Locke’s ankle devastatingly close before Locke was hoisted up like one of his sails away from his ship and impossibly high above it like God himself was pulling Locke to the heavens.

Were it not for the chants of “heave! Heave! Heave!” Locke would have thought he was dead. If not for the riotous laughter as Locke was hoisted higher only tightened a knot of anxiety in his gut until he was above the other vessel, black planks below him and a man in a white shirt with red hair grinning up at him deviously.

Locke swallowed as he gazed down at the ship. No uniforms, no colours of their allegiance and the black finish of the deck… Locke had only heard rumours of this monster that haunted the seven seas.

Locke was lowered precariously to the deck of the ship, his legs like jelly under him when they hit the ground. The red-haired man laughed when Locke’s knees buckled and he fell to the deck, unable to catch himself.

“We went fishing lads, yet it seems we caught ourselves a landlubber,” the red-haired man proclaimed. More jeering laughter followed as the red-haired man spread his arms to his adoring crowd, turning his back slightly to Admiral. Admiral grit his teeth as he got a leg under him and pushed himself up.

He didn’t make it to one knee with a sword at his throat. His eyes widened at the glinting metal, the same black as the ship – a metal Locke had never set his eyes on before. The red-haired man’s eyes narrowed into a sharper point than the blade.

“I wouldn’t get brave now, fishbait.”

“Let go of me!” Locke demanded hotly. “Perhaps we can write this off as a misunderstanding.”

“Oh,” the red-haired man hummed, turning his body back to Admiral. “I don’t like threats, especially not ones made aboard my own ship, fishbait.”

“What a coincidence,” said Admiral tightly. “I don’t like being hoisted from my own. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

The ropes tightened harshly around Admiral, stealing the breath from his lungs as the red-haired man stepped in, the captain of this ship no doubt… why was his name eluding Locke right now? He should know the name!

His smile was wicked and reckless. “Aye. Mayhaps we can.”

“Captain!” One of the pirate’s crew called. Captain, so Admiral was right. The red-haired man lifted his head and the pirate continued. “They’re preparing for a fight.”

Captain smiled down at Admiral. “Your men are loyal, Admiral,” Captain said, slightly impressed. Admiral frowned at him as someone grabbed Admiral’s arms and wrestled them behind him, before tying them off behind his back. Admiral pulled at the ropes, but they were so tight he could feel his pulse beating below the ropes.

“We can part peacefully, Captain,” said Admiral diplomatically. “Release me and let me return to my ship and my crew. We have no quarrel with you.”

The red-haired man grinned. Someone handed him the loose rope that was attached to Locke which Captain wrapped tightly around his hand and used it to pull Locke to his feet. Locke’s eyes widened as the Captain gave another harsh tug and yanked Locke closer, stumbling into Captain’s chest.

“Who said there must be a quarrel?” Captain said with a smile as he watched the realisation flood Locke’s face. Then Captain gave his order: “strike their colours, lads!”

Admiral lurched forward, panic seizing his limbs as he let out a sharp: “no!”

“Hush, now, Admiral, and be a good little hostage. I’ll get you accustomed to the mast, shall I?” Admiral fought him the entire way, but the Captain pulled him along anyway, looking over his shoulder to chat idly with him. "I must say, Admiral, it is a good day to see Kings men fight with loyalty for their captain. You'd be surprised how often men readily give up their captain for their lives."

"We can trade, Captain, please, there need not be blood!"

The red-haired man laughed, throwing his head back and mouth open wide staring at the sky with a hearty chuckle.

"Perhaps we are alike, Captain, you and I. We are sharks," said the pirate, yanking Admiral forward with a hand in his shirt and with a twist of his hips he slammed Admiral back against the central mast, knocking the breath from his lungs. "We both smell the blood in the water."

Captain smiled as he handed the rope to someone behind Admiral. Admiral felt the ropes tighten around him, locking his arms even tighter to his sides until there was no leverage at all for him to move. He felt the wood against his hands that were trapped uselessly behind him, and he wanted to curse and scream at the grinning pirate.

Locke froze as the captain placed a hand on the mast and leaned in, smiling at the Admiral, barely an inch between their noses. The pirate didn't smell bad, he smelled like sweet rum and salt water, but Locke scrunched his nose up all the same.

"What is your name, Admiral?” Captain asked with a dashing smile. “Just so I can properly threaten your life to your men."

"I'll tell you once you walk the plank, Captain," Locke snarled, baring his teeth at the pirate. Captain smiled and shrugged.

"Fine,” Captain said as he leaned away from Locke, the glimmer of something mischievous in his eyes. “I guess I’ll just have to wrangle it out of that spiffing first mate of yours instead.”

Admiral jerked forward, but he didn’t get very far, the ropes holding him back to the mast. “Don’t touch them!” Admiral barked.

“Sorry, Admiral,” said Captain with a forced sigh, pulling his revolver from his belt and checking to see if the gunpowder was loaded before drawing the hammer back to the full cocked position. “Loot to plunder, sailors to threaten, I have a busy schedule. Sit tight gorgeous, I’ll be back.”

Captain snapped the into place and offered Admiral a wide smile and a wink before he disappeared. “Captain! Captain wait!”

Admiral screamed after him, but over the sounds of swords clashing and gunpowder his screams just joined the sea of noise. Captain struggled in the ropes, trying to find any leverage to squeeze under or shrug over but it was no use. The rope dug so tight into Locke’s diaphragm that he could barely breathe. He knew there was going to be a ring of bruises there after he got free.

These men… Captain’s men weren’t ordinary pirates, they had an easiness to them, a regiment that reminded Admiral of his own ship’s crews and ranks. Ordinary pirates are usually not worth their salt, and yet… something in the back to Admiral’s mind told him that he knew — or should know — the Captain that currently kept him captive.

The fighting lasted until the sun was above the horizon, shimmering on the waters as the smoke cleared from between the two ships.

Another pirate came to Admiral and cut the ropes tying him to the mast. Before Admiral could ask what they were doing, the pirate yanked him forward, grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and pushed him towards the gangplank between both ships.

“Now then!” Captain said, his mirthful voice carrying over the ships with relaxed ease. “We have your captain, sailors. Your beloved Admiral Locke,” said Captain, sending a flash of his teeth to Locke. Admiral searched the poop deck for his first mate and found them in the arms of two of Captain’s men, blood streaming down their face from their forehead and nose. A bruise crowning on his cheek, his officer jacket tore.

Captain turned to Locke then, still aboard Captain’s ship. Admiral glared down at him. “The choice is yours, Admiral. Your men fought for you, will you fight for your men?”

Admiral frowned. “What?”

“I offer you the choice— would you fight—”

“Yes!” Admiral yelled, taking a step forward but he was yanked back. His heart pounding in his ears.

“Two streams of loyalty,” Captain mused. His boots hitting Locke’s deck towards first mate. Every step resounded in Admiral’s heart thudding in his chest.

“Hey! Get away from them!” Locke growled, struggles renewed as he tried his damned hardest to get to Captain and shove him away from First mate. “Captain! Captain please!”

Captain ran a hand through First Mate’s hair and yanked their head up to face Locke aboard Captain’s ship. Captain smiled, his eyes sharp.

“I offer you the choice, Admiral,” said Captain again. “Your ship and your crew, or First mate.”

Admiral blinked, something horrid settling into his gut as First Mate struggled in the pirates’ hold. The pirates wrestled First mate back into submission, Captain never taking his eyes from Locke.

“What?” Admiral breathed, too quiet for Captain to hear, but it was as if Captain heard, because he continued his torturous ultimatum with a grin.

“Your ship. Your men, your crew, your rank as Admiral, your flag, your country, your uniform,” said Captain, turning to face First mate and grabbing First mate’s chin between his fingers. “Or your first mate.”

“Admiral!” One of the sailors cried. Admiral’s dragged his eyes away from Captain to his navigator, struggling against a pirate. “That would be treason! You can’t!”

“That is my offer,” said Captain nonchalantly, capturing Locke’s attention again. “Treason and love? Or service and duty.”

“Go to hell,” First mate rasped. Captain shook his head and clicked his fingers. One the pirates holding First mate brought a cloth forward and wrestled it between their teeth. Captain waved his finger in front of First mate’s face and booped their nose. “Good little hostages don’t speak, First mate.”

First mate glared at Captain as the gag cut into their cheeks, mumbling incoherent curses at Captain behind it.

Meanwhile Locke was rooted to the spot, stunned at the awful choice that stood in front of them. It wasn’t the choice was difficult, Locke had already decided, the decision was made long ago, but… the ramifications of voicing it seemed too horrible to think.

First mate caught his conflicted eyes and shook their head softly. Admiral’s heart lurched in his chest because they knew, the pair of them knew what way the situation was going to unfold. The guilt before the decision was threatening to overwhelm them both and Locke hadn’t even said a word yet!

Captain noticed too, looking up at Locke. “Will you leave us in suspense, Admiral? Are we but fishes on your hook? Or are you waiting for the next bell to sound, hmm? Tick tock goes the tide, and with it comes the weather.”

Admiral felt all eyes turn on him, the weight of them threatening to drown him out of water.

“Admiral,” Captain hummed and yanked First Mate’s head up by the hair. First mate let out a muffled protest, fighting against him. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

“First mate,” Admiral whispered.

Captain paused. Then he turned, eyes bright like a cats. “What was that, Admiral?”

Locke cleared his throat and avoided the eyes of his crew. “I choose treason. I choose my first mate.”

“For shame!” His crew cried but Locke didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on First Mate who was shaking like a leaf. Captain released First mate’s hair and clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful!” Captain said. “Please, bring First Mate aboard the Fallen Marauder, lads.”

Admiral stilled.

The Fallen Marauder, there’s no way that Locke was standing on the Fallen Marauder. Aside from the fact that it was a fiction, a fairytale, Admiral should be on his ship with his crew.

“Wait, what? I thought you would let us go.”

Captain grinned, “oh Admiral… how naïve.”

First mate was struggling against the pirates as they dragged them across the gangplank to the Captain’s ship. Admiral turned to First mate, but he was turned again, forced to face forward.

“Wait, Captain! What are you doing?” Admiral demanded as he saw a barrel of gunpowder being scattered over the deck.

“You chose, Admiral,” said Captain, walking across the gangplank after his men and came to stand beside Admiral. “You chose first mate, didn’t you?”

Admiral’s eyes were wide with fear. “Don’t. Don’t do this there are good men on that ship!”

“Good men you abandoned,” said Captain softly. “A ship without a captain is doomed.”

“They can make another captain!” Admiral cried as the Captain’s men pulled the gangplank away from the ship. “Please!”

“What do you care for a King’s ship? You have no country now, no loyalties to this endeavour. Now you are one of us, Admiral…” said Captain, then his head dipped, a conspiratorial smile gracing his face. “Or should I say, more accurately, Locke?”

Locke’s eyes went wide. That… Captain wasn’t wrong but Locke, he didn’t… he— his eyes searched the waters as his ship slipped further and further away from him, his men and crew wailing and crying and screaming.

Captain raised an arm. “Captain please,” Locke begged.

Captain dropped his arm. A cannonball fired and Locke stood frozen as he watched his ship go up in smoke. He sucked in a gasp as the air was ripped from his chest in shock. The planks bent and snapped and flew over the sea in a two metre radius of the ship.

“Welcome aboard the Fallen Marauder,” said Captain with a deep bow, dipping low. He tilted his head up as he introduced himself to the shaking Adm – former admiral. “My name is Captain Marlowe.”

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 7 months

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Hi again, my love!

Can I request something with mermaids?

offers ice cream as well <33

Hi thelazywitchphotographer! Of course! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!

Whumper pushed open the door to their quarters. They were greeted by the quiet cries of Whumpee.

“My darling,” Whumper said, approaching them, “what’s wrong? I would think you would be acclimated to your new life by now…”

Whumpee turned to look at Whumper with tear-filled eyes. Whumper’s own eyes widened at what they saw. Their darling mermaid’s body was littered with deep cuts and angry, purple bruises. Blood trickled down from a nasty gash in their tail, staining the water of their tub with crimson. When Whumper spoke, it was with a fragile, practiced calm.

“Who did this to you?” they asked.

Whumpee sniffled.

“I-I don’t know their name,” they said.

“Describe them to me,” Whumper said gently, “you’re not in any trouble, little fish.”

Whumpee took a deep, shuddering breath, and described their assailant as best they could.

“Crewmate,” Whumper cursed.

Whumper’s hand settled on the handle of their cutlass, they turned to leave when Whumpee’s sniffles brought their attention back.

“Oh,” they said, “forgive me, little Whumpee. Let me treat your wounds first.”

Whumper lifted Whumpee out of the tub in a bridal carry. They deposited them on their bed, then went to a nearby cabinet, fetching medicine and bandages from it. Whumper poured the medicine onto a cloth.

“This might sting, but it’ll help, I promise.”

With that, Whumper dabbed the cloth into the gash in Whumpee’s tail. Their screams made Whumper flinch, but they continued to work anyway. When everything was medicated, Whumper dressed the wounds in soft, white bandages. Whumpee’s screams had died down to pitiful, intermittent sobs by then. Whumper held their mermaid close and ran a hand through their hair.

“Shh, shhh,” they soothed, “you did so wonderful, my little fish. I promise, I won’t let this happen again.”

Whumper grabbed a bottle filled with a strange liquid. They lifted Whumpee’s chin and held the bottle to their lips.

“Drink,” they said, “you need rest. This will help.”

Whumpee knew better than to disobey, so they drank. Whumper smiled softly and helped them into a laying position, covering them with a blanket.

…

Whumpee slept for many hours. When they did wake, it was to the sound of the door opening once again.

“Whumpee,” Whumper said, “come on deck. I need you for something.”

Whumper picked Whumpee up and carried them out on deck. Whumpee shielded their eyes from the bright sun with a bandaged hand. Whumper sat Whumpee down in another tub that had been prepared for them.

“First Mate,” Whumper called.

“Aye, captain?” First Mate asked.

“Bring forward the scum that thought they could touch what’s mine.”

“Very good, captain.”

First Mate dragged Crewmate forward.

“On your knees, filth,” First Mate growled.

Crewmate shakily obliged.

“Whumpee,” Whumper said, “is this the person who hurt you?”

“I-”

“Tell the truth,” Whumper warned, “I will know if you lie.”

“…Yes,” Whumpee said quietly, “it was them.”

Whumper kissed Whumpee on the crown of their head.

“Thank you,” they said, “because you were honest, I’m going to let you choose their punishment.”

Whumpee stared at Crewmate. Even though the pirate had hurt them, they didn’t want anyone else to suffer.

“Um, maybe, put them in the brig?” WHumpee asked uncertainly.

Whumper smiled and nodded.

“A fitting punishment,” they said, “First Mate, throw Crewmate in the brig.”

Whumpee breathed a sigh of relief.

“-After their twenty lashes. Two for each wound I had to treat.”

Whumpee blinked. Not that!

“No! Captain, please!” Crewmate begged.

“Spare me your mewling before I decide to cut your tongue out,” Whumper said coldly.

“Whumper-” Whumpee started.

“They deserve it, my darling,” Whumper interjected, “you’ll understand one day.”

Whumper picked up Whumpee once again.

“I leave them in your capable hands, First Mate,” Whumper said, “my treasure doesn’t need to watch this.”

Whumper turned and carried their darling back to their quarters, just when Crewmate began to scream.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

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willowtreewhump · 2 years

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Been obsessed with my pirate/mer AU for my OCs lately and have been absolutely churning out art for it. Pirate Arda here is in a bad spot, wonder where they’re taking him…

#my art #my ocs #pirate whump #whump art #bloody nose #illustration #digital illustration #hint: I asked for some ideas of how to whump pirates and got an enthusiastic suggestion to flog him sooooo….#and then I drew that too lol coming up next!#pirate whumpee

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pigeonwhumps · 2 years

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Character intros

Out of the water masterlist

*chanting* merwhump merwhump merwhump

*chanting* pirate whump pirate whump pirate whump

Picrew here.

Túathal

Species: Merfolk

Pronouns: he/him

Whump type: whumpee/caretaker

Background: He's a merfolk prince of Imbathil, a kingdom off the coast of Ireland, who's captured by pirates after getting lost in a storm. Merfolk scales are valuable, as is the crown he wears, and the pirates keep him as a source of the scales. Arrogant and prideful, he speaks Mermish and not a word of any common human language – he has no interest in anything to do with humans. He enjoys pranking his two younger siblings, and is well-educated in the ocean and sea creatures, as well as his own society. He's fascinated by pufferfish, and very protective of people he likes – his fight/flight/freeze response is definitely fight. His tail is silvery-blue/pearlescent, and he also has claws and sharp teeth when in merman form.

Robyn

Species: Human

Pronouns: he/him

Whump type: whumpee/caretaker

Background: He's the youngest of the pirates, and not especially happy about capturing Túathal, initially because he's superstitious and thinks it's bad luck to have a merman on board. He's not popular among the pirates, and as such gets landed with the care of Túathal (they end up having to share quarters on the ship because there's nowhere else to put Túathal, which neither of them are really happy with). He can't speak or understand Mermish, but they become close nonetheless and he ends up getting used as leverage against Túathal by the other pirates. The scars on his face come from the first time he tried to patch up Túathal (not the eyepatch though – that's older). While he's not religious, he grew up Christian so tends to cross himself automatically. He's also trans, which the other pirates don't know and which is part of the reason he became a pirate.

James

Species: Human

Pronouns: he/him

Whump: whumper

Background: The quartermaster on the pirate ship, the captain puts him in charge of Túathal, since he's the most enthusiastic about keeping the merman. James promptly offloads the actual caring part onto Robyn, but he's still more than willing to do the things that hurt Túathal. The scar on his cheek came from catching Túathal. He's not their only whumper, but he's the main one.

#whump #mer whump #mer whumpee #pirate whump #pirate whumpee #out of the water #character intros #tuathal oc #robyn oc #james oc #whumpee #caretaker #whumper #language barrier

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delicateprincepaper · 10 months

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THE MYSTERY. What is she going to do with him? Is that a defiant look on his face? Is he a sailor that was captured by a pirate? If anybody and anybody at all wants to write about a story to this that would be awesome.

#Whump #pirates #fantasy #drawing #defiant whumpee

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whumpflash · 1 year

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Never: Left

cw: hand whump, gore, brief emeto mention, this one gets kinda graphic so be warned :)

"Pick a hand."

James eyed his captor, sullen and silent. For two days, he'd been a prisoner in the brig of his own ship. No food, no water, no idea if the men still loyal to him were even alive. Kept chained to the wall, bound in a bent position by rough rope.

His body ached, his head was pounding, his mouth felt swollen, and here was Peter, first mate turned mutineer, giving him stupid orders.

"Pick a hand," Peter said again, sounding annoyed.

"Why?" James spat out, his voice rasping. "Why should I do anything you ask of me?"

Peter clicked his tongue. "Well now, you don't sound like someone who wants a drink of water."

James scowled. So this was how it was going to be. He'd have to play Peter's games, cave into his demands, just for the pleasure of keeping himself alive. Fine. His life was worth more to him than his pride.

"Left," he said, and Peter's face broke into a smile.

"There we go!" he said, producing a small flask from his hip and unscrewing the lid. He pressed it to James' lips, and he drank, unable to grasp it himself with his hands tied behind his back. It was taken away too soon.

"Now, you said your left hand?" Peter asked, moving behind him. James tensed as his former first mate cut the hand in question loose in such a way that the other was still tied firmly in place. Traitor or not, Peter was skilled with rope tricks. He gripped his wrist tightly, and James winced as his arm was straightened for the first time in days.

Even with one hand freed, the rest of his body was practically immobilized. Trying to fight back at this point would yield only failure. His best hope was to entertain Peter's wishes until the traitor let his guard down.

"Left hand, left hand. Good choice," Peter said, tracing a finger along James' palm. "Now, will you let me cut it off?"

James clenched his jaw. Even though he'd suspected this was the way things were headed, hearing the words spoken out loud sent a shock through him. "What?"

"I want to cut off your hand," Peter said. "But only if you tell me to. Will you?"

What kind of game was he playing now? "No. Why would I?"

"Okay!" Peter said brightly, releasing his arm. James watched him stride out of the room, flexing his fingers. Was that it? Was Peter just trying to mess with his head?

He took a shaky breath as the other man returned a few moments later, carrying what looked like a small anvil.

Of course not. Peter's games were never so simple.

The anvil was placed a few feet to James' left, and he felt a shudder run through him when he saw the metal cuff welded to the top. He was too weak to pull away when Peter grabbed his hand, and could do nothing as he was dragged from the wall, body stretched as far as his restraints allowed, left wrist locked into the anvil.

"I'm going to ask again," Peter said. "Can I cut off your hand?"

James' heart was pounding in his ears, worsening his headache. Should he just say yes? Get whatever Peter had in store over with? Or would he really be spared if he denied the request? He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of climbing the rigging, steering the ship, engaging in battle. All things better served with two hands intact.

"No," he said at last.

"Okay then," Peter said cheerfully, drawing a small knife. Its edge was polished, razor-sharp. James felt his blood run cold as Peter brought it down to trace the outline of his hand.

"That means I get to convince you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter started with the ring finger. One long deep cut along the inside of it, a few more around the circumference, and he was able to set to work on removing the skin.

No amount of screaming, begging, or threatening would stop him, James found that out within a few minutes. He'd tried to clench his hand into a fist, but Peter struck him against the knuckles with the hilt of the knife and threatened to take an eye if he made this difficult, so he'd given up on that and took to screaming instead.

"Cut it off, cut it off!" he'd screamed as the finger was reduced to bone and muscle, and then not even that as Peter began to slice away at the tendons.

Peter had responded in a calm, friendly voice as he dug the point into the first joint, began to pry it away,

"It's too late for that. You can only tell me to cut it off when I ask you if you're ready for it to be cut off."

So James could only wail helplessly, straining against the bindings that held him in place until his skin burned and bled wherever the rope touched it. He'd be sick if his stomach had anything to give up.

Peter hummed as he carried on, removing more and more of the finger until it was down to the knuckle. He paused then, looking at the bloody space thoughtfully, and for a moment, James dared to hope he was done.

But then Peter jammed the point of the knife into the wound, and James' vision went white with pain. For a blissful few seconds, he knew nothing, felt nothing. But when the world came back to him, Peter was holding his thumb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn't know how long it took as the process was repeated, the slow filleting of each finger, the piece-by-piece removal of bone. James' consciousness felt like it had melted into the pain, each new excruciating stroke indistinguishable from the next as he faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to do more than whimper as his body shook and his hand was taken from him one cut at a time.

Eventually, he opened his eyes to see everything gone, the remains of his hand sitting amid discarded flesh and gore. Peter was carving the skin off his palm, still humming a carefree tune. James let out a sound that was something between a sob and an animalistic whine, and Peter's gaze flicked down.

"Ah, you're awake!" he lifted the knife, twirling it between two fingers. "Now I hope you remember the rules, because it's your turn again."

James couldn't speak, couldn't even nod. It had to be over. He couldn't take any more of this slow slicing. It had to be over.

"I think you know what I'm going to ask you," Peter continued.

James only stared up at him. His vision was swimming. He had to stay conscious long enough. He had to be able to say the word, just one word.

"Can I cut off your hand?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next part

#so yeah here's this #another very fun thing to write #i really enjoyed myself #might do more tbh im a sucker for piratey/seaside whump #though i have other projects to work on #whump #whump writing #whumpflash #captive #tw torture #captain hook #villain whump #pirate whump #hand whump #tw graphic #defiant whumpee #begging #this is a peter pan fanfic btw lmao #never/never

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