The Pain She Casts [Princess Tutu, FakirxRue, #19]
Title: The Pain She Casts
Author/Artist: sabssmith Sabs will do.
Pairing: Fakirue (FakirxRue)
Fandom: Princess Tutu
Theme: 19. Red
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu belongs to Ikuko Itoh and the respective artists, etc. I don't own it, which is good because I'd kill it, kay.
She was no longer the Rue that he remembered. Now she was simply a crow that wished to achieve the full of Mytho’s love through hellish and cold means. Underneath her well-shaped body, transformed into the sickly image of a black princess, she was ugly in every way possible. Even not as Kraehe, Rue was unbearably awful.
Back when she was still herself, carrying crow’s blood but clueless of its existence - as they all were - at least she didn’t threaten and mock and dance with such demonic, real intention. Sure, there were plenty of times - numerous times - when they argued about Mytho and couldn’t stand each other’s presence. They seriously detested the other’s actions. Deep down, however, at least Rue was Rue. At least she had some pure motivation behind her actions, however ridiculous it was: a silly crush on the handsome prince.
Fakir allowed himself a minor phase of humor. Before, the way they used to work together was extensively professional and undoubtedly icy, and he remembered always dreading the idea of spending even the simplest time with her. They really had fought a lot. But at the moment, their problematic relationship of old seemed meek and harmless. Now, he had to deal with a new creature, a raven altogether, and the trouble she brought to Mytho (what did she do to him, anyway; why’d he have to jump out of the window like that?) and Tutu. He wondered if Ahiru was going to have trouble focusing on her task with her head struggling in dark worries for the prince.
So every time he looked at the current Rue, he always felt as though the ruby eyes had become twin pools of blood, as though she were an entirely different being. With this in mind, he would not hesitate to pierce her with his sword, especially if it meant protecting those closest to him.
He pictured the blade cutting through her flesh, destroying the Rue he once knew from existence forever, and tried to shake off the immense pain that suddenly gripped his chest. He tried hard, but the agony was so much that he could’ve broken down in tears. Damn her. Damn her for doing this to Ahiru, to Mytho…to him. It was killing him, but he had no other choice. Still, he wished desperately that she would come back, that he wouldn’t have to end her. That would be nice. Maybe, if she abandoned Kraehe and all her malicious intentions, if she was just Rue and Rue only, maybe he would treat her better. Maybe they would start over and become friends - he practically did it with Ahiru, so why not Rue, too?
Without thinking much, he dragged over the daily routine of dressing and washing up, glanced at the sword propped up against the bedroom wall, and headed out.
Black clothing never really suited her.
Author/Artist: sabssmith Sabs will do.
Pairing: Fakirue (FakirxRue)
Fandom: Princess Tutu
Theme: 19. Red
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu belongs to Ikuko Itoh and the respective artists, etc. I don't own it, which is good because I'd kill it, kay.
She was no longer the Rue that he remembered. Now she was simply a crow that wished to achieve the full of Mytho’s love through hellish and cold means. Underneath her well-shaped body, transformed into the sickly image of a black princess, she was ugly in every way possible. Even not as Kraehe, Rue was unbearably awful.
Back when she was still herself, carrying crow’s blood but clueless of its existence - as they all were - at least she didn’t threaten and mock and dance with such demonic, real intention. Sure, there were plenty of times - numerous times - when they argued about Mytho and couldn’t stand each other’s presence. They seriously detested the other’s actions. Deep down, however, at least Rue was Rue. At least she had some pure motivation behind her actions, however ridiculous it was: a silly crush on the handsome prince.
Fakir allowed himself a minor phase of humor. Before, the way they used to work together was extensively professional and undoubtedly icy, and he remembered always dreading the idea of spending even the simplest time with her. They really had fought a lot. But at the moment, their problematic relationship of old seemed meek and harmless. Now, he had to deal with a new creature, a raven altogether, and the trouble she brought to Mytho (what did she do to him, anyway; why’d he have to jump out of the window like that?) and Tutu. He wondered if Ahiru was going to have trouble focusing on her task with her head struggling in dark worries for the prince.
So every time he looked at the current Rue, he always felt as though the ruby eyes had become twin pools of blood, as though she were an entirely different being. With this in mind, he would not hesitate to pierce her with his sword, especially if it meant protecting those closest to him.
He pictured the blade cutting through her flesh, destroying the Rue he once knew from existence forever, and tried to shake off the immense pain that suddenly gripped his chest. He tried hard, but the agony was so much that he could’ve broken down in tears. Damn her. Damn her for doing this to Ahiru, to Mytho…to him. It was killing him, but he had no other choice. Still, he wished desperately that she would come back, that he wouldn’t have to end her. That would be nice. Maybe, if she abandoned Kraehe and all her malicious intentions, if she was just Rue and Rue only, maybe he would treat her better. Maybe they would start over and become friends - he practically did it with Ahiru, so why not Rue, too?
Without thinking much, he dragged over the daily routine of dressing and washing up, glanced at the sword propped up against the bedroom wall, and headed out.
Black clothing never really suited her.