YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 4

[a1c0bb]

for this bonus round, the theme is historical fiction! prompts inspired by specific moments in (real or fictional) history.

this round will end on july 15th

Fills can be in any format, and you can fill your teammates prompts, but you cannot fill your own prompt.

You can post as many fills and as many prompts as you want!

for your prompt post title, please use the following format:

PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

for your fill post title, please use the following format:

FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

PROMPT: TEAM FIRE EMBLEM

[miyukitty]

"Although the majority of pirates in history have been men, there are around a hundred known examples of female pirates, about forty of whom were active in the Golden Age of Piracy. Some women have been pirate captains and some have commanded entire pirate fleets. Among the most powerful pirate women were figures such as Zheng Yi Sao (1775–1844) and Huang Bamei (1906–1982), both of whom led tens of thousands of pirates.
[...]
Women who became pirates at times disguised themselves as men in order to do so since they were otherwise rarely allowed on pirate ships. On many ships in the Golden Age of Piracy, women were prohibited by the ship's contract (required to be signed by all crew members) due to being seen as bad luck and due to fears that the male crew members would fight over the women. Many famous female pirates, such as Anne Bonny (disappeared after 28 November 1720) and Mary Read (died April 1721), accordingly dressed and acted as men."

lady pirates >:) - [source]

FILL: TEAM CATRADORA

[asaphida]

Words: 570
Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Ship: Adora/Catra
(thank you for introducing me to the concept of pirate yuri, it's everything)

Adora almost doesn't recognize her amongst the smoke. A pisol's flash illuminates her silhouette enough to make out her ears, tail, ducked offensive pose. Adora's never seen anyone else like Catra, at sea or on land.

Her staff clashes with Adora's sword. "Catra," Adora says, "it's me."

Catra swings the staff again, hitting the blocking sword hard enough to make Adora step back. She snaps, "Strangers call me Wildcat."

They've never been strangers before. Catra was the name that echoed in Adora's head every day when she secured the lines, laid traps for rats in the corners of the ship, tried to sleep. It's the name carved deep in her bones.

Adora's next step brings her closer to the railing. All of her training screams for her to strike back. She doesn't trust her burgeoning healing magic enough to risk it. "I - I don't want to fight, let's just-"

When Catra's staff hits the sword, the vibrations sent up the blade make Adora's teeth rattle. "It's too late to talk," Catra says, rough with rage. "You said enough when you left."

"I didn't - I wanted you to come with me. Shadow Weaver said you hadn't proven-"

"I stabbed that bitch to death in her cabin." Catra grins at the shock that must be across Adora's face. "You have gone soft. How does succession work in the Alliance? Do you have a sing-off?"

Mara handed power off to Adora with a ceremony and a sword, just off-shore of the island where she intended to live out her retirement with the woman she married on deck. Adora was the commander of the She-Ra now.

Adora says, "We were supposed to be co-captains, remember?"

Co-captains was the closest word Adora had for what she wanted, then. They'd spent long nights keeping watch in the rigging, or swabbing the deck side by side, or slipping into each other's hammocks after all the lanterns had guttered. Growing up on the Black Garnet, affection wasn't allowed. But touch was quiet, and the ship was full of dark corners.

"We promised," Adora says. "You take care of me, and I take care of-"

Catra's blow drives her closer to the edge, and Adora had to swing back to keep from going overboard. Catra's pointed teeth bare past her upheld staff. "I'm not the fucking rat-catcher anymore." Her voice twists and snarls. "This is my ship. My crew. I don't have to share the plunder with you."

"I've never wanted plunder," Adora says, and from the mingled anger and pain on Catra's face, she knows what Adora does want.

Bow is shouting that they need to retreat. On any other ship, Adora would have called it by now. She's putting herself, her ship, her crew at risk by dragging this out any further. "Come with me," Adora says. "Please."

Catra's always been faster than her. She's at Adora's throat in an instant, one hand fisted in her shirt, one poised with claws next to her face. "I don't want to leave," she spits, jagged and halting. "Shadow Weaver's dead, and I'm a better captain than you would've ever been. I don't need you, and I never have."

Adora knows what Catra sounds like when she lies. Adora reaches up to take the hand by her face, to try again, but Catra releases her shirt and melts into the smoky deck before Adora can say I need you too.

Re: FILL: TEAM CATRADORA

[miyukitty]

ohh i love it!! nice nice nice >:D that shadow weaver bit omg catra

Re: FILL: TEAM CATRADORA

[asaphida]

thank you! this is legit take 2 bc take 1 was getting too long and I wasn't going to finish on time, so I have a pirate wip to revisit after yso. I'd never thought to play in that sandbox before and it's so much fun. thanks for that too!

FILL: Team Webcomics/Webtoons

[static_prevails]

Ship: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus, The Locked Tomb
Words: 325
Notes: The last of the River bubble AUs.

——

Harrow is, after all, alone.

The remnants of her raft lay broken on the island (if you could even dignify such a small thing with that term); her empty canteen abandoned, useless. She will not die at sea, at least. She will die on land, and her skeleton will wait to greet the next unfortunate sailor to be stranded here.

There is a black shadow on the horizon. A hallucination, Harrow thinks. The dehydration is acting quickly. She sits, sun beating down on her unshaded head, and considers how best to lay out her future corpse.

The hallucination grows, materializes, shifts in form until it becomes a vast galleon, decked fore to aft with jet-black sails. Its flag, fluttering in a breeze that Harrow cannot feel, is a skull, bleached white and jawless, but in its gaping sockets are two golden eyes.

Pirates, Harrow thinks desperately, pirates of the Ninth Sea! Come to ravage her or to save her - come in fact or in vision - Harrow cannot know. But if she is not to die here, there is only one option.

“Help! Save me! Help!”

She stands as tall as she can, ignores the pain from her parched throat.

“Help me! I am lost without you! I have no recourse but your mercy!” Then, without understanding: “Please! I have needed you from the beginning. I am without purpose and void without you. Please.”

And, finally: “I have loved you.”

The dinghy is made ready, but the pirate captain does not board. Her silhouette vanishes, and Harrow is filled with a new despair.

As the boat lodges in the sand, Abigail steps forward, cups Harrow’s face in her palm, and pours water into her gasping mouth.

“Harrow,” she says with a sad smile, “she can’t save you. None of us here can save you. That’s not how it happens. It’s time for you to get up and save yourself.”

The world shatters.

Harrow awakens.