#this game is good i swear its just INANE how i enjoy it so differently from everyone else

[petorahs]

the thing about me liking genshin is that i go through this period where i dont actually like it or play and i mute every word about it and unfollow blogs i used to get content from and stuff but then the game comes out with another banger whether that be the music (they never missed with this tbh but theres only so much spotify/youtube can do than hearing it yourself), gameplay, lore or characters

so i painstakingly unmute and refollow each thing... its like a walk of shame except i subjected myself to this

[wistfulcynic]

Drink the Wild Air

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to @thisonesatellite​!!!!!!!

The other half of my brain, yin to my yang, Wash to my Mal, chili to my chocolate. Milkman who delivers my spiritual milk (TOO MUCH???? TOO BAD). I wish I had better words to express how much you mean to me, but on the other hand I don’t need them because YOU ALREADY KNOW ❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Are you blaughing yet??)

ANYWAY in honour of this MOMENTOUS occasion, I have written you a little story. In which princesses are kidnapped (OR ARE THEY), sea battles are fought, SWASH is BUCKLED and CASTLES are STORMED. 

(of course, when I say “have written” I mean there are four-ish chapters. Out of nine. Maximum. SHUT UP YOU KNOW WHAT I’M LIKE)

Many thanks to the brilliant @ohmightydevviepuu​ and the wonderful @katie-dub​ for helping me knock this into something readable.  Also: @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​ @stahlop​ @mariakov81​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @shireness-says​ @snidgetsafan​

(please do say if you would like a tag or if you would like not a tag)

(Also on AO3) 

TO START OFF we have THE MEETING. 

PART THE FIRST: THE PRINCESS AND THE PIRATE

Once upon a time there was a princess. 

A beautiful one, to be sure, as princesses in stories such as this are wont to be, but beautiful was far from the only thing that might be said of her. Born of a union of fabled True Love and raised by parents who valued her far too highly to spoil her, she grew up to be daring and kind, brave and witty, and curious to a fault.

She was also stubborn, and stubbornly independent, insisting on leading her own life in her own way and choosing for herself the partner to accompany her along the path of it. She would not, she declared, accept a political marriage; she would have a love like her parents’ or none at all. Suitor after suitor tried to woo her, princes and dukes and sultans from far-off lands, and suitor after suitor she rejected. None could tempt her, for all wished to put her on display and indulge her like a pretty pet, and the restless princess would quite sincerely choose death over such a life. In desperation the king and queen sent her far into the north, to the frozen kingdom of Arendelle, their ancient ally, in hopes it might appease her longing for adventure and return her home in a different frame of mind. 

The princess greatly enjoyed her trip; she liked the queen of Arendelle and its princess, and the magnificence of their icy land. In the six months of her stay she had many enjoyable adventures and met many interesting people. She did not, much to her parents’ dismay, fall in love. 

On the day she was set to embark upon her return to her own kingdom, a man presented himself at the gates of the palace. A remarkably handsome man, with dark hair made carefully untidy and bright blue eyes lined in black. His speech and dress were perfectly proper and his manner charming but the princess was not easily deceived, and she saw as the others did not a hardness in the twinkle of his eyes and a cunning beneath his charm. 

He had come to deliver a message to the queen, the man informed them, placing a wax-sealed envelope on the footman’s silver tray with a flourish and an elegant bow. As he turned to take his leave his gaze caught the princess’s and held it, brazenly, for a brief and endless moment broken only when he shot her a wink that brought a scowl to her face and sealed her decision. He was not to be trusted, and she intended to uncover his game. 

She trailed him with ease as he strolled casually, almost ostentatiously through the broad and snowy streets, until she blinked for a heartbeat too long and he was gone. The princess was thunderstruck, cursing under her breath as she spun in a circle, eyes darting about, seeking any glimpse of him. 

“Looking for someone, Your Highness?” murmured a deep voice in her ear, and she turned to see him smirking at her in a much less charming way than he had in the throne room. 

“You!” she gasped, and cursed herself for inanity.

“Aye.” His smirk deepened. “I suspect you may have been seeking me.” 

“I wasn’t! I just—” 

“Didn’t trust me,” he interjected, with a hint of bitterness that took her by surprise. “Very wise, Princess. I am not a trustworthy man.” 

“And why would you admit that to me?” 

“Because I have no quarrel with this kingdom and I don’t wish for any trouble. It’s true I have been known to lie and cheat and even plunder when circumstances demand it, but I have no nefarious intentions here. I merely wish to board my ship and be on my way.” He indicated a vessel docked in the nearby harbour, a tall and distinguished one, adorned with stripes of yellow and flying a crimson flag. 

“A pirate ship!” she gasped. 

“Privateer, darling, in this land at least. And I prefer to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.” 

“But if you’re a pi— a privateer, then why were you delivering a message to the queen?” 

“Because I was paid well to do so.” 

“By whom?” 

“I find it’s best not to inquire. Now is your curiosity satisfied or do you intend to follow me aboard my ship as well? A beautiful woman such as yourself would be most welcome.” He cocked an eyebrow, licking his lower lip as his heavy-lidded gaze travelled slowly down her face, landing on the open neckline of her gown with such blatantly lecherous intent that the princess could not suppress a burst of laughter. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” she chuckled. 

His thick brows snapped together and he sputtered in indignation, but her bright laugh proved infectious and he was a man with a keen eye for irony. “Aye,” he replied, chuckling himself. “Without success, it would seem.” 

He looked at her as he spoke the words, truly looked at her as he hadn’t before, his blue eyes alight with a genuine interest and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and the princess felt a fluttering in her belly that was wholly new to her. “You’re a tough lass,” he observed, and his voice held only admiration.  

The princess felt off-balance, unsteady, as though her blood were moving too quickly through her veins, and she did not care for it. She stepped back, gesturing at the street that led to his ship. “Take your leave, then, sir,” she said.  

“Captain,” he informed her, closing the distance she’d put between them and taking her hand. “Captain Killian Jones, of the Jolly Roger.” 

“Emma,” replied the princess, before she could stop herself. “Princess Emma of Misthaven.” 

“Misthaven,” murmured Captain Jones. “Lovely.” He performed a gracious bow over Emma’s hand, brushing his lips across the back of it. They were warm and soft and Emma gasped as the flutter in her belly grew stronger. He looked up at the soft sound and their gazes collided over the top of her hand with a crackle like lighting though a summer sky. Every emotion thrumming through her in that moment she saw reflected in his eyes: attraction, excitement, confusion, apprehension, just a hint of fear. The cheeky pirate and the haughty princess were gone and they lay bare to each other’s sight, just for the space of a heartbeat. 

Then he released her hand and turned away, disappearing into the crowd. Moments later she saw him boarding his ship, pausing just at the top of the gangplank as though he might turn back to look at her… she held her breath… he squared his shoulders and strode onto the deck and she could see him no more. Emma turned away herself and walked slowly back to the palace, feeling shaken and oddly empty. Of course, she thought, of course it would happen that after five years and dozens of suitors she had finally met the man whose touch made her heart beat faster, and he was a pirate she would never see again. 

~

Because once upon a time there was a pirate. A good man with a bad temper, who had done things in the heat of his anger that could not be undone once it had cooled, and allowed their consequences to embitter and harden him. A resourceful man and a clever one, he worked his way up from nothing only to throw his life away for love of his brother, squandering his talents in revenge and rum until the day a pair of green eyes looked at him as none had ever done before and set his feet upon a different path. 

A great one for brooding, he took to his cabin with his flask and his thoughts, golden hair and silken skin prominent among them. The most intriguing woman he’d ever met, he thought with a scowl, and she was a bloody princess, as untouchable as the stars themselves and surely someone he would never see again.  

He sailed his ship into open waters looking for a fight, an enemy vessel he might plunder to relieve his feelings. His first mate —whose time in Arendelle had been spent gathering information from the harbourmaster there— apprised him of two likely targets: a barge travelling to Glowerhaven from Agrabah which they could intercept in a day or so, and a royal passenger ship set to sail from Arendelle that very evening, bearing the standard of Misthaven. 

The captain’s heart leapt in his chest but he kept his face expressionless as he instructed his first mate to target the barge. Agrabah was rich in spices and jewels; a slow-moving barge loaded with its cargo made a far more tempting prospect than an agile and well-armed royal yacht that may or may not be transporting a certain green-eyed princess. 

As the sun set that evening the Jolly Roger drifted as they waited for the wind that would carry them towards Glowerhaven, the men in the crow’s nest keeping their watchful eyes upon the open seas while the captain kept his on the Misthaven vessel coming up swiftly on their starboard stern. As it passed by he saw her, leaning against the ship’s rail, her hair trailing in the breeze and her  posture thoughtful. She straightened when she caught sight of him and he could swear their gazes locked even across that surging stretch of water, with an intensity surpassing even what they had shared in Arendelle and broken only when he dropped into an elaborate bow and —though he doubted she could really see it— winked at her. 

She inclined her head and gave him a mocking curtsey, and as her ship sailed away into the setting sun the captain scratched behind his ear, a nervous gesture he thought he’d left well in his past. 

Misthaven, he mused. To his knowledge he had never taken any of their ships. Perhaps his crew might care to dock there for a day or two, and enjoy their Agrabahti spoils. The wind picked up and as the crew leapt into action the captain smiled, imagining piles of exotic jewels and green eyes that put them all to shame. 

A week later they made their port and if the princess, whose tower bedroom boasted a fine view of the harbour from its wide window, felt a stuttering in her heartbeat and a quickening in her blood at the sight of the brightly painted ship, she did not speak of it. Rather, she donned her oldest gown and covered her hair, and slipped away from the palace and into the only tavern in all her land where a pirate might feel welcome. 

The delight on the captain’s face when she sat down next to him did nothing to dispel either the quickening or the heartbeat. 

“Princess,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“What, here in my kingdom?” 

His eyebrows danced at the snap in her tone. “Here in this tavern, love, where if you’ll forgive me for saying so you do appear rather out of place.”   

A twinkle of mischief glinted in her eye as she gazed up at him from beneath thick lashes. “Would it surprise you to learn this isn’t the first time I’ve been here?” 

His own gaze was intense, solemn, though his face wore the same small smile as it had in the streets of Arendelle. “No,” he said softly. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all.” 

She grinned in delight at that, unaccountably flattered by the approval in his voice. 

“And now, Your Highness,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in close. “May I buy you a drink?” 

She leaned in herself, thrilling at the hitch in his breath and the heat in his eyes, her heart pounding faster than ever. 

“Call me Emma.” 

---

AND OF COURSE to top it off there is  BRILLIANT ART from @mariakov81​!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEPHANIE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️