the-introverted-writer-for-life

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Pirate Whump

the brig!! thrown in there and forgotten while saltwater seeps through and drenches whumpee constantly leaving them coughing and miserable

lack of sleep, forced to be on duty for hours at a time

smacking whumpee to the deck with a blow that leaves their eyes watering.

scrubbing the deck until their hands are scraped and bleeding. their arms and back ache so badly that when they stand up, they immediately double over.

flogging for minor mistakes. the humiliation of having their shirt ripped away and the stabbing, sharp pain of the cat o'nine tails on their skin is enough to break down the most stoic of the crew

collapsing on deck. in general. fainting. nausea. suddenly light headed and woozy from blood loss

falling to the deck on hands and knees and scraping them on the rough, worm-eaten wood

hostage situations on “friendly” terms. whumpee can wander around on deck and maybe they even joke around with some of the pirates. but the minute they try to escape, there’s a sweeping blade at their throat and someone roughly manhandling them to the captains quarters to be “dealt with”

being made an example of for misconduct is often extreme and cruel. there are no laws on the high seas

the damage left by the opposing side’s cannon fire? timber embedded in limbs, gaping wounds, and formerly brave sailors curling up in fetal positions to try and protect themselves

a captain whumper who calls their prisoner whumpee “darling” in the most derogatory way possible.

emergency first aid being applied hurriedly and with unskilled hands.bandages made from old shirts, amputations done unabashedly and crew mates being carried back fireman style to their ship.

“bite down on this” and “don’t look” as they cut away a damaged limb, multiple crew members holding whumpee down

mer whumpees— caught and put on a leash so they’re dragged along the side of the boat. sometimes they pull whumpee up and “have a bit of fun” as whumpee thrashes and gasps for air.

captain whumpee found stranded on an island by an opposing captain. they’re “taken care of” by being humiliated and beaten, laughed at, and forced to be the cabin boy

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Hello. I'm writing characters who are captain and first mate. The captain saved the first mate from death, and the first mate stays because they think of it as a life debt.

The first mate hasn't ever experienced kindness or a gentle touch without someone wanting something in return or to cause them pain.

The thin is,, I'm having trouble coming up with ideas to grafually grow their platonic relationship. Would you be able to write some platonic prompts about the first mate reacting to the captain being nice to them or doing nice things for them without expecting anything in return?

Captain and First Mate Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

The coat was torn bad across the sleeve, soaked in dried salt and blood. The first mate had left it draped over a chair, meaning to toss it out. In the morning, it was still there, but the tear had been stitched closed, the thread clumsy but steady.

The first mate came below deck soaked to the bone, boots sloshing, hair dripping. Before they could shake off the water, a towel smacked into their chest. "You’re gonna catch cold," the captain muttered, not even looking up from tying off rope. Their ears were pink. The first mate dried off in silence, smiling just a little.

The storm rattled the windows, thunder rolling close. The first mate hadn’t lit a lamp, just sat in silence at the edge of their bunk, elbows on knees. A knock broke through the hush, light, like it wasn’t meant to be heard. When the door opened, the captain stepped in, holding a blanket like it weighed a hundred pounds. "Figured you might want this," they mumbled, setting it down. The door clicked shut again.

Someone cracked a joke, crude and stupid. The kind that normally earned silence. But the captain let out a laugh, a quick, surprised sound, almost like they didn’t mean to. The first mate looked over. The captain shrugged, expression unreadable. "Guess it got me."

The night was too quiet. The stars too still. The first mate lit a cigarette, took a drag, and held it out without a word. The captain hesitated before taking it. They passed it back and forth like it was nothing, but neither of them left. When the ember burned down, the first mate crushed it under their heel and didn’t say goodbye before walking off. They didn’t need to.

The first mate hissed as they tried to clean the scrape on their palm, wincing when saltwater hit raw skin. The captain stepped in without a word, gently prying the cloth from their fingers. They cleaned it with careful hands, slow, methodical, familiar with pain. "You’re terrible at this," the captain murmured.

The clouds were stacking fast, wind howling through the rigging. The crew ran to their posts, but the first mate didn’t move. They stood by the captain, eyes narrowed at the dark on the horizon. "Get below," the captain said. "That’s an order." "I’m not leaving you up here alone," the first mate replied.

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Pirate prompts?? Please i can barely find any but i need so muchhh

Pirate Writing Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

The captain’s hand instinctively covered their forearm, hiding the tattoo inked when they’d sworn a foolish oath years ago. They pulled down their sleeve, but it was too late—the young deckhand’s sharp eyes had caught the telltale lines of a treasure map scrawled in dark ink. "You saw nothing," the captain muttered.

Stranded on a stretch of empty beach, the two pirate captains—once bitter enemies—could barely look each other in the eye. "I’m not sharing my firewood with you," she snapped, hoarding the meager pile of driftwood they’d collected for warmth. Her rival just sneered, pulling his coat tighter around him against the sharp ocean wind. "Fine," he retorted with a smirk. "Let’s see who freezes first. Might just solve the whole problem."

The stowaway, caught by the crew in the dark belly of the ship, glared defiantly at the captain, despite the empty cutlass against their neck. "You’ve got fire in you; I’ll give you that much," the captain said, their eyes gleaming with a curiosity that no one expected. "Maybe it’s just the kind we need to outrun that navy fleet on our tail." The stowaway blinked, hope flickering across their face as the cutlass lowered just enough for them to breathe.

They called it The Silent Marauder, the ghost ship that drifted out of the mist on blood-red nights, promising riches for those who dared board. "One must stay," the captain read aloud from the ancient log book, unease prickling the crew’s skin as they glanced at each other in horror. A shiver crept down their spines as they realized the truth: the captain would have to decide which of them would stay behind as payment for their prize.

The captain smirked, shackled to the wooden post in the navy brig, as the young officer watched them through the bars. "So," the captain drawled, "will you throw the book at me, or are you the type to bend a rule or two for an honest pirate?" The officer’s expression wavered, his fingers hovering over his keys, and for a split second, the line between duty and temptation flickered dangerously in his eyes.

The silver-haired mermaid lay limp on the ship’s deck, her scales shimmering under the moonlight as she met the captain’s gaze with an unearthly intensity. "If you release me, I’ll lead you to treasure beyond imagining," she whispered, her voice lilting like the waves.

The grizzled sailor reached out to the young captain with trembling hands, a half-smile on his weathered face. "So you’re really my daughter, then," he murmured, his voice rough and thick with years lost. She clenched her jaw, her hands balled into fists as she fought against the waves of emotion rising inside her; after years of fighting her way to captaincy, she never thought she’d face her father.

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

today is also my dearest friend's birthday so i drew the scarlet pearl for him!!!

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Chapter 19

I dont really know what to say, erm enjoy the chapter

PREV// MASTERPOST // NEXT

If you like what we do, feel free support me on Ko Fi !

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

I love the fight club group dynamic! They have fire water earth and air based PvP and they are so fun to watch. So I made art of them (its flats only and there's not any details but i got bored okay)

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Pearl! I've slightly updated her hair so it's a bit better

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

rabid and hibernating, simultaneously

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Hi twin

this one is a joke lol

Week 27: Designs for chapter 19!

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

stream doodle before i go to bed 👍

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

New Etho lore-drop from Scar's stream!

He tried to do a headstand but fell and his jeans left color all over his wall.

He used to skate, hockey skate.

He hates yellow with a passion.

He has seen hikers say hi to other hikers while they are peeing.

He doesn't like motorcycles.

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Day 12 - Pearl

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

Attempted to combine:

Scarlet Pearl and Santa Perla.

Here's the result:

Skin:

I call her Harvest Pearl/Autumn Pearl

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

today's mini fella is REPO scar!

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

HADM DAY 12 : PEARLESCENTMOON !

Irl Pearl when she went to the Minecraft Movie premiere.

She was stunning, absolutely killed it with her outfit oh my gosh. Green goes so well with her.

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

great googly moogly! (audio from gem's s10 episode 33)

[the-introverted-writer-for-life]

da da da~