#pirate writing prompts

[unboundprompts]

Pirate Terms and Phrases

-> Pirate Lingo

-> A Pirate's Glossary

Batten Down The Hatches - tie everything down and put stuff away for a coming storm.

Brig - a prison on a ship.

Bring a Spring Upon 'er - turn the ship in a different direction

Broadside - the most vulnerable angle of a ship that runs the length of the boat.

Cutlass - a thick, heavy and rather short sword blade.

Dance with Jack Ketch - to hang; death at the hands of the law (Jack Ketch was a famed English executioner).

Davy Jones's Locker - a mythical place at the bottom of the ocean where drowned sailors are said to go.

Dead Men Tell No Tales - the reason given for leaving no survivors.

Flogging - severe beating of a person.

Gangplank - removable ramp between the pier and ship.

Give No Quarter - show no mercy.

Jack - flag flown at the front of the ship to show nationality.

Jolly Roger - black pirate flag with a white skull and crossbones.

Keelhaul - a punishment where someone is dragged under the ship. They are cut by the planks and barnacles on the bottom of the ship.

Landlubber - an inexperienced or clumsy person who doesn't have any sailing skills.

Letters of Marque - government-issued letters allowing privateers the right to piracy of another ship during wartime.

Man-O-War - a pirate ship that is decked out and prepared for battle.

Maroon - to leave someone stranded on a. deserted island with no supplies, typically a punishment for any crew members who disrespected the captain.

Mutiny - a situation in which the crew chooses a new captain, sometimes by forcibly removing the old one.

No Prey, No Pay - a common pirate law that meant crew members were not paid, but rather received a share of whatever loot was taken.

Old Salt - experienced pirate or sailor.

Pillage - to steal/rob a place using violence.

Powder Monkeys - men that performed the most dangerous work on the ship. They were treated harshly, rarely paid, and were expendable.

Privateer - government-appointed pirates.

Run A Shot Across the Bow - fire a warning shot at another boat's Captain.

Scurvy - a disease caused by Vitamin C Deficiency.

Sea Legs - when a sailor adjusts his balance from riding on a boat for a long time.

Strike Colors - lower a ship's flag to indicate surrender.

Weigh Anchor and Hoist the Mizzen - an order to the crew to pull up the anchor and get the ship sailing.

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[buyandsellcar]

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade's sweet and spicy Pirate Logie Bear

[whump-in-the-closet]

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

[milotraflgkl]

Law being delusional /neg

LAW x GN!READER

note: this is a request i had gotten a LONGGG time ago, I apologize for being absent and not posting anything but I'm trying to make a comeback. WC: (799) PART 2 here content: angst, law is a dick, no comfort, cliffhanger??

You had done everything in your power to be near him to show him new little things you found while researching a topic that you were very into, also giving him little things you saw that reminded you of him. This time, you had a bracelet you made specifically for him. You were going to give it to him, making your way toward him and maneuvering around the submarine with a big dorky smile decorating your face that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of your crewmates. When you had found your Captain he was with other people in the dining room, your eyes lit up as you practically skipped your way over to him with a big smile on your face. “Captain!” You sang out as you moved to hold your arms behind your back as you tilted your head to look at him, “I got you something.” You exclaim practically vibrating and rocking back and forth out of pure excitement to give him something that you had made specifically for him. 

He was trying hard to keep his eyes down, covered by his hat that was decorated with spots. He didn’t want to talk to you, not when he finally had just gotten Penguin and Shachi off of his ass before they gave him a headache and now you were here and it was like you just triggered the headache to turn into a migraine. His brows pinched together and he brought his slender hands up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, praying that you’d get the idea and piss off. Also doing this action to attempt to release some sort of pressure from his head, he noticed how his head hurt whenever you came around. He wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the strong and disgusting smell of your perfume or the way you just always seemed so annoying and happy. “Are you alright? Does your head hurt? I can go get something or make you tea-” You were trying to be nice but he cut you off, “Do you ever shut up?” He snarled his eyes snapping to look up at you.  Freezing in your spot you stared down at him, the face and the tone of his voice caused you to almost drop the bracelet to the ground. “I’m… sorry?” You questioned if he meant what he had said, “I asked, do you ever shut up.” He growled before he moved to stand up his figure towering over yours as he stared down at you, usually in moments like this you would feel all flustered and nervous but this time… you were nervous for a different reason. You swallowed thickly and stepped back from him growing scared at his sudden harshness as you watched him before you slowly lowered your head, “I’m sorry for being such a bother, Captain.” You whispered under your breath and your voice was fighting not to crack, your tears watering as you kept your eyes locked onto the ground. “I’ll get out of your way.” You spoke quickly before sprinting off, going to hide in a small room somewhere to cry.  Law was satisfied with the moment, moving to sit back down as he sighed and rested his head back against the chair he was sitting on to let himself relax and close his eyes. What he hadn’t realized is the fact that… you just stopped showing up around him. He was annoyed that he had for some reason taken notice of that fact as he moved toward the dining area one afternoon, hoping to find some coffee to keep himself awake so he could distract himself with work and stop thinking such stupid thoughts. But instead, he saw something that caused him to freeze, there you were sitting with Penguin and Shachi doing some random craft… his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what you three were doing before he realized you were making the two boys' bracelets. Law felt his fist clench and his brows pinched together, he wasn’t sure why it irked him so much that you were doing that with them. It was childish the things you were doing but for some reason, he wanted you to do it near him again. To talk his ear off about how you make the bracelets and then about the day, instead, you were telling them.  He would simply just huff and try to shake it off, making himself coffee and noticing how you just ignored him being there. He’d go back to his office attempting to continue with his work but failing, his mind reminding him of how happy you looked sitting there with Penguin and Shachi. He hated it and he should hate you but he just… missed you.

[mielkae]

Mcyt as Writing Prompts pt. 8/?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words Related to the Beach

Boardwalk - a wooden path along a beach

Brine - the salty water of the ocean

Buoy - an object that floats on water in a lake, bay, river, etc., to show areas that are safe or dangerous for boats

Conch - a very large sea snail with a tall thick spiral shell

Coral - a tiny soft-bodied animal that typically lives within a stony skeleton grouped in large colonies and that is related to the jellyfish

Current - a body of fluid (as air or water) moving in a specified direction

Decuman - of a wave: extremely large; huge

Dune - a hill of sand near an ocean or in a desert that is formed by the wind

Kelp - a large brown seaweed

Lagoon - a shallow channel or pond near or connected to a larger body of water

Lido - a fashionable beach resort

Lifeguard - a person employed at a beach or swimming pool to protect swimmers from drowning

Plage - the beach of a seaside resort

Praya - beach, strand, waterfront

Reef - a chain of rocks or coral or a ridge of sand at or near the surface of water

Sand dollar - a flat round sea urchin

Spindrift - sea spray

Swash - the rush of water up a beach from a breaking wave

Tide - the rising and falling of the surface of the ocean caused twice daily by the attraction of the sun and the moon

Undertow - a current beneath the surface of the water that moves away from or along the shore while the surface water above it moves toward the shore

Types of Tides

ebb tide: the tide while ebbing or at ebb (i.e., move away from the land; recede)

high tide: the tide when the water is at its greatest height

low tide: the farthest ebb of the tide

neap tide: a tide of minimum range occurring at the first and the third quarters of the moon

riptide: a strong usually narrow current of water that flows away from a shore

springtide: a tide of greater-than-average range around the times of new moon and full moon

storm tide: a high tide that is significantly higher than normal due to onshore winds reinforcing tidal action

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Deep Water Prompt #3380

Our wars have sunk so many gold laden ships in the sea, that gold has become prized currency for the creatures down there. An entirely new breed of pirate arises for us to contend with.

[serene-cinders]

A mermaid whumpee, strung up in a pirate ship. Kept below the deck, so that not even cracks of sunlight can seep in. Cramped, stinking and hot, this is nothing like the crisp winds and rolling tides. Lagoons of azure and open oceans of royal blue. The salty depths of the sea against their scales was a simple pleasure they took for granted for far too long.

Hemp rope tears the tender crooks of their elbows, the webbing connecting flexible limbs to a lithe body dried to tatters. They’re awkwardly pinned up against unfinished wood. Shoulders are taut and numb.

Every now and then, a gaunt cabin boy will slink in, bucket in hand, and throw a pail of water over the dried coil of scales. It wasn’t much relief. And it was never quite enough. It dried too fast, sucked in by flaking scales.

Even in the low light of the open door, they could see the sunken, almost apologetic eyes of the boy, before he slams the door behind him.

[marlynnofmany]

Sometimes you don't have time to do anything with a story idea, but it's fun to think about anyway

[imfinereallyy]

Steve Harrington was not a treasure.

His family had treasure for sure: more gold than they could count, family jewels passed down from generation to generation, and an estate with more rooms than servants. But Steve himself was nothing worthwhile.

Women were worth something; well… daughters were. In Steve’s mind, it all seemed a bit twisted. The women he knew were only as good as their selling price, not seen for their minds or strength. It confounded him most days, considering they could rule better than he ever could. They probably should rule instead. Still, in most family’s eyes, although their worth was demeaning, but it was still worth.

Steve Harrington didn’t hold any value. Most saw him at best as the damaged heir, broken and bruised beyond repair. Others saw him at worst as his father saw him, as a disappointment who would only make good helping running the ship under the man Richard wished was his son.

Steve was almost certain he could be lost at sea, and no one would ever bat an eye.

So Steve is baffled, really, when one of the few times his ships is back in port and he stays a rare night in his family’s estate.

Perplexed when the rooms are broken into and raided in the time before dawn by the ruthless crew of Hellfire, that they come looking for more than gold. He is baffled, and downright alarmed when, instead of killing Steve as they had for many of the guards, they rip him away and steal him, much like the gold that lined the halls.

And when he meets the dreaded Captain Munson for the first time, where he brushes a thumb across the scar on Steve’s lip…Steve can’t help but be stunned into silence when Munson mutters under his breath, “Looks like we found our hidden treasure.”

[unboundprompts]

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.

[andaniellight]

if i could write modern-setting-with-no-power AU where Zoro and Perona are both famous, but the public in general don't know they're siblings, best believe i'd make one where Zoro shows up in Perona's business account like this not because he wants to be perceived as a loving brother but because if he had to fight his way up tooth and nail (literally physically) to have no-lose-streaks reputation as "MMA Fighter" then might as well get comfortable with scaring the shit out of people with threats context-not-provided whatsoever*

(* Perona's been followed by creepy stalkers so he becomes her personal bodyguard for a whole week while they wait for their rich-as-fuck dad, Mihawk, to do something about it)

Zoro's full pic below ↓

(reference pose from that picture of Mackenyu Arata holding up card of Perona btw)

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Bruises and bad habits

Whitebeard loved all his children. He liked hearing about them. Watching them make progress in the things they loved to do. Weather that was getting stronger or completing a project they wanted to do. It was all he could do not to just cheer them on every day.

Ace was his newest son and the most troublesome. His favorite kind of child. The ones that could hardly be handled they were too wild. They always made life interesting and fun. Ace also reminded the older man of a few past friends that he used to have. Ones that never listened and always did what they wanted. Ace listened a littler better than the boy’s biological father but that meant very little to Whitebeard. After all Ace is his son now and nothing would change that.

Ace lived up to that chaos too. Especially when sparing with the others. Pops knew that it would make others stronger too. Ace always went all out. Only holding back enough not to kill anyone. No matter how the fight progressed. It was a little worrying at first.

A sibling was charging forward, when Ace used his flames. Making the other jump back, his sleeve on fire. Everyone was moving before they could stop. Trying to put out the fire. The sibling yelling out. Until they noticed that his fire wouldn’t burn them. Ace stared at everyone with large eyes. Just watching them. “It doesn’t hurt?” The sibling with fire on their sleeve said. They reached out to touch it.

“Don’t do that.” Ace said, “It’s not burning you but the heat might still hurt.”

Marco stared jaw a gape, as Thatch threw an arm around him. “Wow, already knows you’re trick. Ace is gonna beat you with fire manipulation.”

“How long did you say you’ve had you’re devil fruit?” Marco asked, thinking of how long it too him to learn this little trick. His fire wasn’t even used for burning. But he had to be careful when he was younger. Just because the default setting didn’t burn didn’t mean it wasn’t capable of doing so. Marco had burned a few things from losing control his his emotions.

Ace turned around to smile at them. “Just over a year.” That wasn’t enough time to learn this. Just what was Ace doing to gain such control over his powers?

Ace of course, would never tell them how he learn it. Just saying that he ‘just did.’ And leaving it at that. How he managed to train his fruit so quickly in the time he said he had it, they wouldn’t know. Not that Marco wasn’t dying to know how. He would just have to bother Ace about it later.

Later Ace would explain again that he didn’t do anything all that strange. He just had to get off the island, but maintain the heat and power of his fire. That was all the training he did. When Marco tried to use the striker after that be got it. Just that kind of control with a very flammable person behind you was enough to learn control.

If the fire wasn’t a problem it was the way that Ace seemed to always be able to find the weak point in others was. Ace moved about like he owned the place. His steps bouncing off the mast or off the railing. Almost as if he grew up on a ship. Every move was calculated. Chosen to get Ace as closer to his target as possible. Without over shooting what he wanted.

Now that pops could see the boy from an outside perspective, it was easy to see why he won against Jimbe. Why the world government wanted him to be a war lord next, rather than a pirate. Fighting him would be a pain to do all the time. The boy was always improving. When he gets knocked away he’s already got a new idea at how to attack. Not afraid to go again until he doesn’t get hit.

There was a problem with this. It was that the boy would get hurt. There wasn’t a time that Ace didn’t have some kind of bruise on him form one or more of their crew. It was better than when he was trying to kill, their captain but still. If that was all they could learn to deal with it. Ace would get better soon and he wouldn’t get hurt as much.

But when he got hurt the boy would up and disappear on them. Making Marco, the nurses, and Deuce run around looking for him. He was never in the same place either. Sometimes he would be hiding in a storage room. Other times he was hiding on or in the sails. It was all just a guessing game. It didn’t help that Ace being hurt was the only time the boy could hide better than any haki user. Well except for one. One that wasn’t quite willing to help them. After all his son wanted to hide away from all the poking that he himself hated. What kind of father would force him to deal with that, unless if was life and death. Ace was fine. The boy always bounced back. So Pops didn’t mind him hiding in his shadow, or under his coat. As long as he could keep track of the boy himself, it was fine.

It helped that Ace’s viver card wasn’t burning away to nothing. Meaning there was no reason to fear that he was going to die.

“ACE! YOU BRAT!” Marco yelled, frustrated that the boy had once again gotten away. If this kept up they weren’t going to let him spar with anyone but Marco. It was getting so annoying trying to hunt the boy down.

[writing-to-survive]

#230

"I am not a pirate."

"You and I just stole a ship."

[chaotic-orphan]

Whumpuary No. 3

Choice // storm // black eye

Whumpee was an idiot. She was a stupid, dumb, idiot and now she was going to die and it was all her stupid fault. They warned against women on ships, they said it was bad luck, but did she listen? Hmm? Did she actually heed the warnings and ill omens?! No!

She dressed as a boy, cut her hair short, wrapped thick bandages to suppress her chest — not that she had a lot of ampleness to her bosom — but still! Maybe if she had more than an appropriate level of bosom, she wouldn’t have played with the boys when she was a child, and would have worn pretty dresses and not ripped and ruined them climbing trees, or chasing cats in the forest and her brain would never have been filled with the temptation of the sea and now she was—

A strong wave cut into the ship and she was flung starboard, her sea legs failing her while her brain turned over and over on itself again because… she swallowed as she pushed herself into a standing. All of these men, the brothers she had got to know while working as part of the crew, she doomed them all.

She doomed them all.

“Whumpee?” Whumpee’s head snapped in the direction of the door. She didn’t hear it open in the storm. Caretaker stood in the doorway, his crystal eyes wide as he took her in. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and let him hold her while she apologised for bringing this storm upon them. “Whumpee… what are you doing down here?”

“This storm,” Whumpee said with bright eyes and a startled gasp. “It’s—” she grabbed her chest, the bandages suddenly too tight as a searing ache cut through her chest. She longed to cut through the blasted things and breathe properly for the first — and possibly the last time. “Oh gods. I did this… I brought this storm upon us.”

“What’re you talking about?” Caretaker demanded. “Whumpee, no man can control the weather nor the seas.”

Oh, she wanted to reply, oh that was true. No man could influence anything on something as tumultuous as the sea except a woman with her iron will, and her wiles that the skies and storms like to punish for daring to venture too far away from the life of parasols and proposals.

“I did—” Whumpee said, her inhales becoming more frantic and then another jostle of the ship and she was thrown forwards this time. Caretaker caught her, hands on her shoulders and pushed her to her standing, shaking her slightly.

“Whumpee! Now is not the time to lose your steadfastness. Trust the captain, trust me, have we ever steered this ship wrong?”

Whumpee’s chest loosened slightly. “No,” she said, looking up at him from below the rim of her hat.

Caretaker beamed his handsome smile down at her that made her heart quicken for an entirely different reason than panic. Something sweeter, something her sister Anne talked about when she started to court her future husband.

“Keep your balance low in your hips, drop your weight to your feet. Keep your eyes steady on the horizon and we’ll survive this.”

“Yes sir,” Whumpee said with a smile and a salute.

“Good,” Caretaker beamed. “Now, Captain said we have to—”

“PIRATES!”

Their expressions wiped clean from their faces, mirroring the horror on the other’s face. Caretaker frowned. “Pirates in a storm… that… it doesn’t—” he trailed off and then his head snapped up, eyes focused on Whumpee’s. “The Black Dread.”

Whumpee lurched forward when Caretaker turned and bolted up the stairs to the deck. “The what?!” She cried after him. She only barely caught herself on the door frame when the next wave struck the hull but then she smelled the gunpowder in the air and she blanched. She sprinted up the stairs after Caretaker and onto the chaos of the surface.

Winds howled, pulling at her hat and clothes, carrying the screams and orders barked around the ship but Whumpee wasn’t looking for an order to follow she was searching the sea with her sharp gaze. She didn’t see any sign of pirates.

Her eyes found Caretaker’s distinctive first mate jacket and took off after him over the deck, ignoring the shouts from her fellow crew mates to help tie the sails and secure the masts and life lines. She didn’t have a life line, either did Caretaker.

She didn’t think as she raced after him, up to the quarterdeck. He was speaking frantically, gesturing to the captain who had taken control of the helm. Captain’s eyes widened at Caretaker’s words that Whumpee couldn’t hear. A bang to the stern and Whumpee whirled on her feet.

It was hard to see in the mist and the fog, but she could’ve sworn she saw a glimmer of clear weather behind them. In the opposite direction than what they were sailing.

She ran up to the helm and interrupted their conversation. “Captain! We have to turn around!”

Both men’s heads snapped down to Whumpee.

“Who do you think you are, boy?!” Captain gruffed. Caretaker caught Whumpee’s gaze over the Captain’s shoulder and shook his head in warning.

“Please, Cap’n. I saw a ray of sun towards the stern, sir. If we turn around now we can outrun the storm and not—” another blow jostled the ship, but it didn’t stop after the wave struck. The sound of screams and creaking wood behind her drew Whumpee’s gaze.

The main mast creaked and groaned, threatening to split in half and fall onto the deck. “CLEAR THE DECK!” Captain ordered frantically. “All hands to the quarterdeck now!”

“Captain, it’s the dread—”

“Aye, I know who the blasted devil is,” Captain snapped. His steel gaze found Whumpee’s. He started to furiously turn the ship around until they were 180 degrees and sailing with the wind. “But soiling our britches won’t solve any of our problems, Caretaker, will they?” He gruffed.

Caretaker nodded resolute, his eyes slid behind Whumpee, then to Whumpee directly before he took off. “Whumpee,” Caretaker commanded. “With me. We’ll loose the sails.”

“You better be right, Whumpee.” Captain said as they turned and disappeared down the stairs, running through the throng of sailors and crewmen who were ascending the stairs. “By the Gods, Whumpee” Captain grimaced. “You better be right.”

A strong hand, big enough to encase Whumpee’s upper arm stopped her in her tracks. Whumpee’s eyes went to the owner. It was Struman, her bunk mate, his eyes hard. “Where’re ya going? Cap’n said to—”

Caretaker was at the bottom of the stairs and climbing the ladders to the sails. “We have to unfurl the sails, we’re sailing out of this storm. Caretaker’s orders.”

Struman nodded stiffly. He released Whumpee’s arm and gestured for three other crew men to follow him while the rest retreated to safety. Whumpee ran to the main sail on the starboard side and began to climb. She was small, swift and agile, her hands already calloused before she joined the crew. She wasn’t like Anne or any of her sisters with soft, dainty hands. And it was a good thing in a storm like this, giving her grip so she didn’t blow away. Her masculine muscles keeping her strong and steady as she ran across the beam and began to unknot the ropes securing the sail.

Caretaker was crouched down opposite her. He flashed her a handsome, charming smile as his ropes came undone. The salt and sea spray mixed with the rain and the wind pulling at his shirt and hair made him look more attractive than Whumpee thought a man needed to look. Why couldn’t she be pretty like Anne? Would he smile at her like that if she would act like a good wife?

Oh blasted! That’s not what she should be thinking about at a time like this! Her hands worked quickly and the sail unfurled down, material rippling against the wind as it shucked down and immediately caught the wind. She glanced back at Caretaker and sighed a sigh that was stolen by the wind. It wasn’t her fault he consumed her thoughts like that, she thought looking at him, Caretaker looked like a God of the sea, with his tanned skin from so many days spent in the sun on the ship.

Another crack against the sky and Whumpee flinched. Caretaker ran by her. A hand brushed hers. “Come on! To the deck.”

She turned and followed him. She would follow him anywhere, she realised as the wind caught his shirt and sent it billowing. He turned and dropped to the first rung of the rope ladder and looked up at her, his smile golden and Whumpee melted a little.

Then his gorgeous eyes flashed with a horrible, terrible danger and he screamed her name, but Whumpee didn’t hear it over the crashing sound behind her. The crack ripped through the sky. The mast wobbled and she slipped on the wood. She screamed as the mast turned and toppled. She grabbed a rope but it slipped through her fingers and she cursed as she fell. A strong hand grabbed hers as her feet slipped from the wood and were falling with nothing below her but the sea.

She screamed as her wrist snapped against her arm and her descent was halted. Caretaker. He… Whumpee was swung into the rope ladder and she cried out, gasping as it stole the wind from her chest.

“Caretaker!” Captain? Whumpee couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the clouds that roared like an angered beast; over the sound of the crack of canons; over the rushing sound of blood in her ears. “THE LADDER!”

But it was too late. The mast dislodged. The rope attached and it was falling. Whumpee and Caretaker tried to hold on as much as possible, shifting, trying to get to the deck but the mast fell too far out and they were dangling above the sea.

“Whumpee!” Caretaker screamed as her grip faltered. “Whumpee! Let go!” He ordered.

Let go.

Let go.

Just… just let go.

Why wasn’t she letting go?

If she let go she would drop into the water. It was the most logical thing to do. She just had to let go. She wouldn’t even hurt breaking the film over the sea. She was in the perfect position of a solider dive so…. Why….

Her fingers wouldn’t release the rope.

She shook with the wind, no. She trembled with the paralytic fear that consumed her blood and turned her muscles rigid and heavy.

“I—” she stammered. Wet eyes met Caretaker’s gorgeous gleaming crystals. “I—” but she never finished her sentence. Another car tore through the sky and her grip faltered and she fell with a yelp. She didn’t know if Caretaker followed, but she only had a moment of a gasp in breath before she hit the icy waters below.

She opened her eyes but the waters were black and she kicked her legs on instinct more than anything else. She broke the surface with a gasp, her lungs screeching at her and grumbling as she gasped. But the salt water entered her mouth and she spit it out as the rocky tides overwhelmed her and she was submerged again.

Something above them. Another crack and Whumpee glanced up. The mast fell now, falling towards them and Whumpee didn’t think. Her body pushed against the water and she tried to clear the hulk of wood before it crashed into her.

Too slow.

Something hard and unrelenting caught her ankle and she heard a crack throughout her body and she gasped, swallowing lungfuls of water as she was dragged below the surface of the angry tides.

She yanked her ankle forward and screamed into the water as it caught on something. She turned and tried to quiet her mind, she could free it. She could free it. Her eyes found the rope ladder it was caught in like a fish in a net. She hooked her other foot to the rope and yanked herself closer, knees to her chest as she grabbed the injured foot and pulled it free from the rope.

She unhooked her other leg and pushed up, her lungs screaming for oxygen. She pumped her arms up, she could see the light, see the sun, feel its heat and she let out a startled yelp as she surfaced again. The waves pulled at her bad ankle and she winced as she kicked with her good leg to keep herself afloat.

But there was no sun… they were still in the storm… but the heat? Whumpee gulped as more debris fell around her. Burning debris.

“Caretaker! Caretaker!” She screamed. Her bright eyes searched the sea around her but it was no good in the fog and the darkness. A hand found her shoulder and she screamed and turned. And two eyes made of crystal found hers and she weeped. “Oh Caretaker… oh, thank the gods you’re okay.”

“Whumpee! Are you hurt? I was looking everywhere for you.”

“I’m— I—” I love you, she shouldn’t say. Even if they were about to die. Right? “My ankle,” she finished pathetically.

Caretaker nodded. He searched the tides with his calm, eagle eye. “There,” he said, and he put a hand around Whumpee’s arms. “Hook your hands around my shoulders,” he said.

Whumpee blushed at the command, but she obeyed, happy he couldn’t see what effect his words had on her. She clung to him, she could feel his defined muscles in his shoulders and back as she clung to him. “Okay. Hold on. Don’t let go! No matter what. That’s an order.”

“Yes sir!” She screamed against the tides. Caretaker started swimming, and Whumpee locked her fingers together in front of him as he pushed against the frigid waters. They would freeze if they stood still, Whumpee realised as the chill of the sea seized her burning leg.

They reached a floating piece of debris from the ship, Whumpee couldn’t really make out what it was from. Caretaker unhooked Whumpee’s arms from him and wrapped them over the debris that acted like a rafter.

“Okay,” Caretaker said. His lips were blue from the cold. “I need you to wait here and—”

But Whumpee didn’t hear the final command. Another bang and something fell and Caretaker screamed and then darkness.

*~*~*~*~*

Whumpee woke up bleary eyed, only vaguely aware that they were being dragged somewhere. They didn’t manage more than a groan and a whimper before they passed out again.

*~*~*~*~*

A splash of cold water jolted Whumpee awake. She gasped reflexively, eyes open and mouth gaping like a fish. She went to her side and hit something solid. Whumpee frowned at the boots in front of her. They were some fancy looking boots for her crew and her arms weren’t responding to her commands.

She was on deck. She knew that. The waves quietly tippling them along.

“Get them up,” a voice commanded. Whumpee’s eyes widened as hands were upon her and putting her on her knees again. She yelped as her weight was put on her broken ankle and shot up on her good leg.

The sound of a pistol being cocked froze her in place. “Stay down, shark bait.”

“Please…” she said, biting her lip to stop from crying out in front of unfriendly sailors. “I— I hurt my foot, I can’t put weight on it.”

“Whumpee…” Whumpee’s head shot up at the voice but she didn’t see Caretaker in front of her. No, instead she saw a woman in an exquisite purple captain’s jacket and tricorn hat with a long, inky black feather that gleamed in the sunlight.

The woman smiled down at Whumpee. She crouched so she was at Whumpee’s eye level. Her eyes were unlike any Whumpee had ever seen. They were as radiant as the woman herself, enthralling Whumpee and leaving her speechless, but she also reeked of danger and pain so Whumpee cowered away from her despite her alluring beauty.

“Whumpee?” The woman purred, a soft hand found Whumpee’s chin and pulled her back so there was little distance between them. Whumpee flinched at her name. “Is that your name, sweet thing?”

“Get off of him!” Caretaker said somewhere to Whumpee’s right. Whumpee jerked her head in his direction but it didn’t budge, the woman didn’t release Whumpee’s head enough for her to turn and see Caretaker… but he was alive… he was alive.

Her eyes glazed as that realisation set in and she had to keep the relieved smile off her face this close to this beautiful lady with such soft hands for pirate.

Oh…

Oh.

The relief was washed from her bones and replaced with cold quick dread that flushed her body and made her shiver. The grip on Whumpee’s chin tightened.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y—yes, yes ma’am.”

“Tch. Ya hear that lads?! This young pup called your Captain ma’am!” A chorus of jeers and Whumpee flinched, but the woman wouldn’t release Whumpee’s chin from her iron grip.

“I’m sorry, Ma— I mean… Captain. I really— I didn’t mean any offence, I—”

The woman placed a dainty finger on Whumpee’s lips which instantly silenced her. Whumpee trembled as she stared into the woman’s eyes like coals that burned as bright as her inky feather.

“Whumpee is your name?”

Whumpee blinked. “Yes,” she squeaked.

“Your real name, darling?”

Whumpee shivered. “Y-yes.”

“Get away from him! He’s just a ship hand—” a dull thud cut Caretaker off with his own groans of pain.

“Please—” Whumpee pleaded, trying to turn her head. “Please…” but she didn’t know what she was pleading for. For the woman to release her, or not tell this group of hostile, male dominated sailors that she wasn’t in fact a man. “Please,” she whimpered against the Captain’s finger.

The Captain’s lips were painted a glossy red, so bold for a lady to wear, but Whumpee got the distinct impression that the woman in front of her was anything but an ordinary lady.

The captain pursed her lips. She released Whumpee’s face and stood. “This one comes with me to my quarters,” she announced. Whumpee flinched. “Wha-what?!”

A chorus of raunchy voices cried out in disappointment and approval. “You know the best pick of them, Cap’n,” someone said as Whumpee was hauled to her feet. She cried out as she put weight on the bad leg and Caretaker called her name again.

“Oh, whoops. I forgot about your foot,” the captain said with a smile that could cut through the hide of a whale. Whumpee gulped. “First mate, darling, be a dear and carry my loot back to my quarters, I will be there in a moment.”

“Wait!” Whumpee cried. “Wait, please! We’re peaceful, we’ve surrendered!”

More scathing laughter that boiled Whumpee’s blood. “Please! Just bring us back to—” Whumpee’s head jolted to the side suddenly. A warmth bloomed on her cheek as she righted herself, eyes shining at the woman in front of her. Did she just slap her? Only her governess had ever slapped her before and that was when she was a girl.

“First of all, sweet thing,” the captain said, grabbing Whumpee’s chin again and tilting her head up to look the startling woman in the eye. “You didn’t surrender, you were overwhelmed and invaded and now you are prisoners and spoils of battle well fought.”

“We were a trading vess—” Another slap. Harder this time. Whumpee cried out. “Oh, I love it when they’re mouthy,” she purred, as she stepped closer and planted a kiss on Whumpee’s cheek she just struck. Twice.

Whumpee went colder than she thought possible.

“Let him go!” Caretaker screamed as Whumpee was picked up and thrown over a broad shoulder. She raised her head, her eyes briefly met Caretaker’s wide gaze as he was wrestled back into a kneeling position. The Captain stepped between Whumpee’s eyesight of Caretaker.

She started to struggle, but it was a vain, pathetic effort. With her hands tied behind her back she probably looked like a fish on a hook. “Don’t touch him! Get off him!” She screeched, but the First Mate took her further and further away until the deck disappeared altogether as she screamed. “Let go of me! Get off of me you brute!”

First Mate threw her to the ground as soon as they entered the captain’s quarters. Whumpee saw stars as pain shot from her ankle up her leg and she cried out.

“Oh, the captain’s gonna have fun with you,” First Mate told her in a gravelly voice. “So pretty, too. She likes pretty boys, you’re exactly her type.”

Whumpee scurried back on her hands and her good foot but the first mate followed her. “But she always tires of them after a while, and when she tires of you, gorgeous, I’ll be next in line.”

Whumpee couldn’t speak she was that scared. There was nothing in her brain, in her body, nothing except whimpers and screams and fear and SHIVERS. Why couldn’t she do anything except tremble like a frightened dog?! She was stronger than this!

“You wait right there, shark bait, the captain will be with you shortly.” The brute turned and grabbed the door. Before he left, he stopped and chuckled darkly. He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes half lidded and filled with something monstrous. “And when she’s through with you, you’ll wish you stayed with the sharks.”

With that the door slammed shut with a bang. Whumpee flinched. Then she waited and prayed that Caretaker was okay.