And then there’s Oli, on his right, wound around his legs and playing with the hem of his shirt. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” “Napping,” Martyn replies, more honest than a lot of things he’s told his new pirate crew so far. “You got time for something else?” He turns, raises an eyebrow. “What d’you have in mind?”

Or, in which Martyn gets his first Kestrel stitching.

-

Dreams of Sea Salt and Song

"That's not the point," Ros snaps, and then her hand flies to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. "I'm sorry," she says, muffled. "It's okay. You're stressed. I know you're, like, the nicest most wonderful person in Ecclesia, but you don't have to be perfect all the time." She looks pained. "That's the problem. I... Graecie, I'm not who you think I am."

(Graecie finds out about the breaking news that's about to hit the front page of the Noisy Parrot.)

-

Oli's four boyfriends. (And, yes, they play boules.)

-

“I - I mean, you know I grew up poor,” she lies, settling into her cover story as easy as any other mask. “Not like I could afford to cover my face in lead, and… ground-up beetles.” “Well, you’re one of us now,” Olivia smiles, having dropped back to rest against the arm of the couch. “You can afford whatever you want. And if you want us to pretty you up, then I for one would be more than happy to.” (The Kestrels find out that Martina has never had her makeup done before, and resolve to help her give it a try.)

-

Seems like a pretty nice island; there are birch trees strewn across the grass, bright and boldly striped with black between stretches of white bark, and she can hear the chirping of birds between their branches overhead. Another sign that it’s finally spring - El will be pleased, no doubt. “You hear that?” she asks, spinning to catch El’s eye. El, who is… holding a picnic basket, with the blanket tucked under its woven handle. “Surprise!”

A few months after the events of Pirates SMP, Water and Eloise go on a quest to help cheer Water up. That's not all they get out of it, though.

-

Drowning in Your Eyes by smittenwithlouis

Length: 45k

“Capt’n Styles, are you certain of this? They be attracted to man-made light.”

“What is? Sharks?” The young blonde asks in terror.

“Worse than sharks, lad. There’ll be flesh eating mermaids upon us in minutes, mark my words!” Paul huffs as he continues to wave the bright lantern in front of him, “And Captain Styles here, has us bait!”

Or: The Pirates of the Caribbean inspired au where Harry is a fierce pirate who holds the heart of a beautiful merman.

There was a group of people milling around outside the building, so she decided to start there. As Owen approached, snippets of the other pirates’ conversation arose. Something about a “battle for the ages” and other made-up stories he wasn’t very interested in. As she was about to pass them by without much thought, a sharp gasp peaked her interest. Owen turned and met someone’s intrigued gaze. It was a person she’d seen running around earlier that day- Sausage was their name, at least from what she’d heard. They were always yelling something about money, among other things, and he took to avoiding them whenever they came near. But, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to slink her way out of this. 

Before he knew it, a strong hand had grasped her shoulder. “Psst, cmere,” Sausage whispered much too loud to actually be sneaky, the sharp noise hurting his ear with how close they were leaning in.

She muscled through the discomfort, forcing out a polite smile- something he was very used to flashing at the stuck-up snobs back home. “What’s up, what’s up?” Owen whispered back- properly this time. This wasn’t good. Wherever Sausage went, he was sure trouble was to follow.

Sausage didn’t respond though, only leading them away from the populated area and toward a much more dimly lit section of town.

“Y-you're pulling me away from the group so quickly- what’s going on?” Owen stammered out. It was meant to sound suggestive- mostly to throw Sausage off, but it came out more nervous than intended. It seemed like they were having none of it.

“Yeah, c’mere for a second,” they only continued.

She wasn’t going to let that stop him, though, so he laid it on thicker. “Yeah, no- no- let’s go further, let’s go further.” She wriggled out of Sausage’s grasp and took their hand. Thankfully, their surprise allowed her to lead them further from the group and toward a small storehouse. 

“I just- I-I got something very important to tell you-” Sausage started, clearly apprehensive, as if they’re not exactly sure what they’re doing.

“Well, let’s keep going then.” Owen pushed. If Sausage was plotting something, he sure as hell wasn’t letting them get away with it.

“Um-” They started to protest.

“Let’s go.” Owen shut them down more forcefully. That seemed to finally shut them up, which she was very thankful for as he led them into the small building.

“Um, yeah so-” Sausage took a step back, seemingly regretting whatever plan they had. They took a second to think before finally giving in and joining Owen in the cramped space. 

“Mhm?” Owen was getting sick of whatever innocent facade Sausage was putting up, getting straight to business. He leaned on one of the closest crates and stopped in sort of a half-sit, and put on one of her best flirty facades. He knew from experience that sometimes seduction was a good way to smooth things over, and hoped this might work out the same way.

Sausage composed themself, clearing their throat and brushing out their rather fancy-looking shirt. “Ok, so how much money do you have before we start? I always ask somebody this at the beginning,” they explained as if it was completely normal to start out a conversation that way.

“Uh-” Ok, weird request, but they were a Kestrel, so it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Owen checked his pockets, knowing full well that he was extremely poor at the moment. “I’ve got three dubloons,” she reported. Now was the part where she gets called poor, isn't it?

“Oh- pathetic,” Sausage scoffed, dissatisfied. Well that prediction was pretty accurate.

“Excuse me?” Owen wasn’t going to let it slide. You can’t just call someone poor and change the subject, not even if you’re a Kestrel.

“Oh no, no, don’t worry about it!” Sausage threw on a fake smile and backtracked before lowering their voice as if people could still hear them. “See- there’s someone on this island-”

“Yeah?” Owen interrupted. He was absolutely bewildered as to what this was about, as she hadn’t even had a meaningful conversation with the guy all day and they were already getting cryptic. 

“-who said that you shot them in the back-” Sausage continued.

“Ohh….” Realization hit. He knew what Sausage was talking about immediately: Tubbo. 

“-and they’re going to kill you!” They broke into a large smile and straightened up to give Owen space- probably meant to be reassuring, but with how giant they were it only helped to intimidate. It was like they didn’t just tell her that he basically had a hit on her back with how matter of factly they finished their “warning”.

“Oh, yeah, yeah um… I did do that,” Owen admitted, “and yeah, I’m used to that. It’s ok.” He shrugged, unbothered. Tubbo wasn’t much of a threat from what she’d experienced, judging from how he walked away with a bullet wound and him with barely a scratch. 

“Oh- ok!” Sausage visibly deflated. It seemed like they were looking for more of a reaction than Owen gave them- but for what, she didn’t know.

“But, uh, thank you for the tip off, good to know,” he shrugged again.

“Well, just a quick tip, just a quick tip-” they scrambled to get their bearings again. “That’ll be three gold pieces, thank you!” They demanded as if Owen owed them anything.

“Interesting!” She cracked a smile. “So it’s a hold up, then.” It was more of a statement than a question; it was nice to finally have confirmation that Sausage wasn’t as innocent as they seemed.

That’s when things started to get interesting, as Sausage brandished a knife to Owen’s neck. They were really gonna try that huh? He smirked and watched as Sausage’s confident grin faltered with the click of a gun being readied and they felt the cold of steel press against their chin. “You really wanna try this?” Owen warned. He didn’t back down, staring Sausage right in the eye.

They stared at each other for a moment. Owen pressed the barrel harder into the vulnerable spot it was in, raising an eyebrow; a warning. After a few more seconds of staring each other down, Sausage backed off, laughing nervously. “Ah, it’s just a joke! Just a joke,” they barked out an (obviously fake) laugh and let the blade fall from his neck. 

Owen decided to play along, holstering her pistol. “Just a joke! It’s a funny joke.” He let out a laugh that was more nerves than mirth. 

“Just having fun, just a joke! Y’know I-I-I’m filthy rich, I don’t need that money,” Sausage blabbered. It was a blatant lie, something only said to cover up their embarrassing failure. 

Owen watched as Sausage fumbled over to the door and followed as they left rather quickly. She decided to follow the other back to where the group from before was still standing in front of the recruitment office. 

“Yeah, ok, well good to see you!” He said, trying to be casual, as if she didn’t just almost get robbed seconds prior. It was best that the others didn’t know about that, no matter how funny it would be to tell of Sausage’s failure. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, you can hold onto that. That’s fine…” Sausage waved their hand, as if trying to wave off the stench of defeat that was heavily wafting from them. 

An awkward silence fell between them. The other pirates gave them strange looks, but seemed to decide to leave the two be, most likely assuming very different things.

Sausage cleared their throat. “Well, uh, good luck in the faction-ing today.” They were looking for an exit, which Owen felt kind enough to give. 

“Yeah, thank you very much. You too!” He waved them off, earning a few questioning glares from others, but she didn’t care.