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ginmoonnet · 3 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Promise ︴˚࿔₊•

[Wanderer 🐈‍⬛]

Summary: Missing someone is difficult, and trying to forget is not easy either. (／_＼)

Genre: Kinda angst(? Idk it has some

♡︎ Wanderer x fem! Reader (I tried to make it gn! Reader but failed miserably, srry)

Note: Use of “Kuni/Kunikuzushi” referring to Wanderer

It's been about a few months since the two of you broke off any kind of contact.

You can still remember the last time you saw each other in person before what happened, you can even feel his warm hug before leaving saying that you would see each other soon, his image is still projected in your head waving his hand saying goodbye to you with a smile for What would seem like just a few weeks, nothing that hadn't happened before... that's why that last call impacted you so much.—Let's break up—. He blurted out abruptly, not even deigning to give you a coherent explanation. You laughed, thinking it was a joke, but the silence on the other end of the line stopped you in your tracks.—What? What do you mean?—. Another silence; It was true that the last few days they had been having disputes but you didn't think it was that serious.— You’re joking, right? You can’t be for real…Kuni?—. However, you didn't have time to ask anything else since after hearing the beep when hanging up the call he had already blocked or at least deleted you from most of his social networks and you didn't muster the courage to say anything else either.

That's how you didn't call him for sixty days. You felt empty, cold, you even considered finding some vice to distract yourself from that feeling... which you discarded for obvious reasons. Still, you felt like all your attempts to resist calling him or even thinking about it were going down the drain in a matter of seconds, one after the other.

You tried to excuse him, to excuse yourself so you wouldn't feel so guilty in case you lost to yourself and went after him once again. “Maybe he's confused”, “I should call him, it's probably all a misunderstanding”, “we can solve it together”, but you better than anyone knew that it wasn't true and even if they managed to talk, the damage to what they once had was done, which, although it took you a while, you ended up accepting... or so you believed until you couldn't resist it anymore that cold and lonely night.

You waited for a while, feeling more and more regretful with each beep your cell phone made as you waited for him to answer.

When you were just about to chicken out and hang up, you heard a voice on the other end of the line.—…Y/N?—. You felt a lump form in your throat, you could almost see how your nose began to turn red and your eyes glazed over.—I…I'm sorry—. You responded, almost in a whisper.—It’s…okay, Y/N—. He said, no, it wasn't right and he should know it perfectly, right?.—I did it accidentally, it's just... today I saw someone who looked like you and... I thought maybe it was you but…—. Your voice was cut off for a moment, you swallowed heavily and continued.—But you're not here and that's none of my business anymore, I know, it's just that I couldn't help it, I wanted to say hello to you, to know if everything was okay, if You were fine, just that...—.

Kunikuzushi remained silent throughout, letting you talk like he always did, like he always did until that last call. Remembering it made you shed some silent tears, why?. Why, if that time he forced you to swallow your words and doubts, why didn't he did it again? Why did he seem to try to empathize with you? Did he feel sorry for you? for you?. That last thought was the one that gave you the courage to direct your index finger to that red button on the screen but his voice stopped you.—Don't worry, I'm fine... How…how have you been?—. He asked, in the warmest way he had spoken to you in months.

Your chin began to tremble and tears fell uncontrollably, making your head throb.—Kunikuzushi I'm going to hang u…—. You couldn't finish your sentence because he interrupted you without warning. —I'm sorry, Y/N—. A muffled sigh escaped your lips, as if it had been trying to escape from your throat for some time now..—What…?—.

—It wasn't your fault, none of this was your fault, it's just that, I was afraid and I acted without thinking. I was not going through my best moment and I hid it from you for months but I simply couldn't take it anymore, I didn't have the courage to explain myself to you at that moment and I hurt you but that was never my intention, quite the opposite…—. He answered you, calmly, although you could hear the remorse in his voice.—A-after a few days I thought about confessing everything to you, but with what face would I go and explain to you?! After all…the damage had already been done and I thought that not talking to you anymore would be better than trying to clean up my mess, y’know?—. He explained, after that and awkward silence didn’t hesitate to get in the conversation.

—…I waited—. You confessed.—Huh?—. He blurted out, somewhat disconcerted.— I waited, days, weeks and then months. I waited for a call or I don't know, maybe a message?, Any sign that all this could be a mistake... but they never came, Kunikuzushi, they never did—. Silence, the boy didn't know what to respond so you continued.—There are still days that I wish this was all a bad dream, you know?...ha...Even in the mornings when I wake up, I find myself hugging a lot of pillows like I hugged you, but it's not the same and it's sad because I feel like I'm the only one still clinging to the othe—.

—Me too, to be honest—. The blue-haired man stated.

—Huh?, what do you mean?—. You asked.—I also think about you, a lot. I also imagine you with me sometimes…but it's not the same, and it’ll never—.

—Be the same—. You responded.—Yes…—. He confirmed.

After a silence that felt strangely comfortable you spoke again.—So, what now?—. You weren't sure what to do, you wanted to see him, hug him, although, was that really what you wanted?. You were beginning to believe that kicking him to get paid for what he had done to you was also a great option.—I have no idea—. He responded, laughing a little to himself which you also did.—…Thank you for calling me—. He said with regret. You processed his words before responding.—Thank you for responding—. So they both laughed a little again before another silence appeared.

Even when those chuckles and giggles were recents they felt somehow nostalgic for some reason. After a while they both fell silent once again.

—Hey Y/N—. He called you by your name, like he always did.—Yes, Kuni?—.He laughed at the nickname, he hadn't heard it in a while and he was starting to miss it.—I still love you—. You thought for a moment before answering.—Yeah…me too—. You sighed.

Even though y’all had just declared your love after so long, those words felt more like a farewell and, for some strange reason, this time you felt calm.

—I think I'm going to love you for the rest of my life...can I?—. He asked with some shyness and uncertainty. You scoffed at his words and the tone of voice with which he recited them.—Good night, Kuni—. Even though you couldn't see him, he smiled at your words.—Sweet dreams, Y/N—. My dear Y/N…

A/N: TMI!

-NYEHEHRHEHEHE 😼😼😼😼

-I’ll be honest with y’all. I wanted this to be breathtaking, heartbreaking, so sad, horrible miserable, but I didn’t felt like crying that day so ur welcome ig LOL

-It may look as if I was working on everything but the fic that I started and haven’t realized the second part haha hehe hoho…and it’s partially true (I will upload it, someday, I swear) BUT I already got the Xiao and Wanderer one shot finished a while ago and the only thing I did was translate so yeah.

Kisses hugs.

—Moonヽ(^‥^=ゞ). ミ★

Masterlist for other works!

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scarasimping · 10 months

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love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her.

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age.

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him.

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target.

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area.

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention.

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?" You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle.

"Speak."

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt.

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade, and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless.

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat."

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent.

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew.

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away.

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

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