Absolutely Just Scrambled To Open Photoshop As Soon As I Saw This

Pirate Whump

salty air and harsh wood rubbing on wounds, making them worse.

manual labor as a punishment, scrubbing the deck all night until whumpee’s back aches and their knees are raw.

lashings. good ol’ lashings.

Whumpee, an important passenger on another ship, gets captured by pirates and taken hostage.

tossed in the brig, a dark, dingy, cramped space with chains and metal bars.

drowning!

a sword pressed against their throat as they’re presented to the captain. (forced to kneel??)

Forced to join the crew and doing their chores with shackles on their ankles.

Strapped to the main mast, exposed to the elements (and the cut throat crew) and completely at their mercy.

Stuck in the crow’s nest (especially during a storm)

A new peg leg. Might seem silly but I’d like to see YOU laugh while walking on a chunk of wood with a newly healing leg stump.

cant think of anything else rn but feel free to add on!

my taglist is open by the way ;)

@toads-and-gremlins

@whump-till-ya-jump

@herhighnessthegoblinqueen

@scoundrelwithboba

THE BEAUTIFUL BASTARD RETURNS!!!

in times like these at least i have the character

a pupy is a species of dogie that needs a nap

first thing to know about sewing machines is that they can smell fear

'Well, look at you, little butterfly.’ she croons softly.

I cannot reply. Cold lances through my back, bare against the stone wall, as surely as her pins lance through my flesh and bone, affixing me to the brick. Like an ornament. Like something to be seen, viewed, admired.

She has none of that sentiment.

She works over me for a while, preparing instruments, caressing my soft skin, holding me between her hands. There is nothing but self-interest behind it.

Then she starts to cut.

Under her hand, my skin parts. Muscle and fat are pulled aside. Organs are removed with the utmost care. Anything that could rot or decay is pulled out of me. I am preserved, a snapshot frozen in time.

Only when she pulls back, finally finished with her work, my skin emptied of meat and sewn back up so precisely that no seams can be seen, now that I am indeed an ornament, does her expression change.

‘You’ll look quite exquisite here on my wall,’ she says, at last with tenderness in her voice, ‘little butterfly of mine’.

People conceptualize egg spotting as this vapid-ass "tee hee, this guy likes the wrong video games for a man, so he must be a giiiirl~" nonsense when in actuality it's like

Here's a reoccurring pattern of fucking trauma responses that we KNOW is common in repressing trans women

And we recognize it

awesome beach near me

For the last time it's not 'mutually assured destruction' it's a sickass wizard duel.