This is a collection of (unrelated) ficlets, for the tumblr writing prompt: 1) Give me a pairing; 2) Give me a setting; 3) I will write you a three-sentence fic. So far, these are all Fakiru-based; I already have a few in my cache, so I'll probably be posting one a week, or so. I've decided to pretty these up a just bit, but for the most part they're unchanged. Hope you enjoy!
Prompt, from ballerina-duck/Snow Bunny/arctic_hare: Fakiru, pick a historical era of your choice.
Old West!Fakiru it is~!
Princess Tutu is the property and copyright of Ikuko Itoh and Hal Film Maker; this fanwork makes no claims of ownership to said property and is not intended for sale or profit or commercial reproduction.
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"So where are we gonna go next, I hope it's fun, I've never just gone off like this before, it's a little scary but also kind of exciting," Ahiru babbled as she clung to Fakir, still unused to the rhythm of the horse.
Fakir grunted a bit and pulled his stetson further down over his eyes, hoping to hide the unbecoming flush her unrestrained affection and general bubbliness seemed to be bringing to his face more often these days.
He still didn't quite know how he'd ended up with this dance hall waif as his partner—she hated violence, and even when she'd tried to prove to him she could handle a gun the recoil and the surprise of it had knocked her clean off her feet—but he supposed, as he felt her arms tighten around his torso at a particular jolt and her lips curve in a giddy smile against his back, there were far worse partners in the world.