CLAMP prompts
As to the first one...I don't even know where that came from.
The second one I was originally trying to make happy. Not that you can tell that now.
The third one I'm happy with. Kittens! Doumeki and kittens. This is a winning formula. :)
X, Kamui, post X (dead or alive - your choice): chair, lightning, spider
"There is no right answer," Kamui whispered, perched precariously on a broken chair inside the ruin of an apartment building. His voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain outside, the dripping water inside.
"But you have to pick a side anyway. Or, or." He edged forward; the chair tilted. "Or you can pick no side. Like Subaru. Subaru unchose. His side picked him, but then the other side picked him, and he picked nothing but he died anyway. Destiny. That’s what they call it when God doesn’t like you enough to let you choose."
The sky flashed, illuminating the ruin, but it was lightning, only lightning. Dragons didn’t light the sky anymore. The world was finished with Dragons.
"I was going to fix it but he didn't let me," Kamui explained. "I was, I wanted to. I did. Fuuma said I didn't but he didn't know. He didn't know as much as he thought he did. He didn't."
Kamui leaned further, reaching toward a shattered fragment of wall with shaking fingers. He leaned too far, and his chair didn't so much break as disintegrate.
He hardly seemed to notice. He pushed himself up off the broken floor where he'd fallen, ignoring the bleeding gash on his cheek, and crawled toward the wall. He searched carefully, wide eyes in a thin face, dirty fingers gently exploring the wall as if he were blind. Eventually he found what he'd been talking to.
"You have to choose," he whispered seriously to the spider. "You're different, you're strong, they always said so. No one can save them but you. No one, no one. Hurry."
The spider crawled uneasily across the wall, but there was nothing for it to hide behind. Kamui followed, watching intently.
“Do you want to live?” he asked curiously. “They say you have to want to live if you want to help. And of course you want to live. Everybody wants to live. Except he says they don’t. He said. He said you can’t save anything if you don’t even want to save yourself.”
Kamui edged closer, tipping his head. The spider tucked its legs in protectively.
"Don't you love them?" he asked, anger creeping into his voice. "If you loved them, you would protect them. If you loved them, you would save them. If you loved them, you would know what you want."
He slammed his hand to the wall, and the rumble it made as it collapsed chased the echoes of his screams around the shell of the building.
Eventually the rumbling stopped, and the dust settled, and there was no sound except of the rain, falling unobstructed into the remains of the room.
Kamui pulled himself clear of the debris, staring at the pile of dust where there had once been a wall and a spider.
"Ashes to ashes," he hissed, wild-eyed. "It's only what you deserved."
He staggered away from the building, into the rain and the encroaching wilderness.
X, Yuzuriha/Kusanagi (any time during or after X): dogs, cup, combat boots, trees
"Which do you like better? Dogs or cats?" Yuzuriha asked, perched precariously on a branch of the tree they were having lunch in. Kusanagi knew, logically, that she was a Dragon of Heaven, demonstrably an amazing survivor, and that the last thing he needed to worry about was her falling from a tree. He knew that, and yet he had to fight against the impulse to pull her closer and demand that she be careful.
"Depends on whether or not I'm in the mood to be ignored, I guess," he replied.
"Huh," she said, edging even further out to peer at the birds on the branch below. Little Inuki gave a warning growl--at least Kusanagi wasn't alone in the irrational fretting.
"Inuki!" Yuzuriha said, surprised. "You worry too much!"
Inuki rumbled unhappily, and Yuzuriha sighed and edged back toward the trunk. "For me it depends on whether I'm in the mood to be mothered."
Kusanagi tried not to let on how relieved he was that she'd stopped...leaning. He passed her a cup of tea in an attempt to distract her from the birds.
"Who do you miss more?" she asked, accepting the tea. "The Angels or the Seals?"
So this was going to be one of those days.
"I didn't know any of them particularly well, except for you," he reminded her. "I was trying to pretend I wasn't involved. You must miss the Seals, though."
"I do," she said, with the blank expression he'd never seen before the end of 1999. "But I would have missed you most of all, if you'd gone. Even more than Sorata-san and Arashi-san and Kamui-kun. Does that make me a bad Seal?"
"I think it just makes you a good human. You saw your enemies for what they were," he said quietly.
"Huh," she replied, dismissive, and absently kicked the air with her combat boots.
The boots were another thing that had made an appearance after 1999. Kusanagi couldn't decide if she found it comforting to dress like him, or if it was just that she spent a lot of time wanting to kick things.
“The birds will die when everything else does, won’t they? Do you think the dogs and cats will die?”
Oh, yes. This was going to be one of those days.
“Come here, Yuzuriha.”
“What if you were right and I was wrong?”
“Come here.”
He pulled her close, tucked her head under his chin, and settled in to wait out the storm.
“I didn’t want you to die.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want them to die, either. They still died.”
“I know.”
“You’ll die too, someday. You’ll probably die before me.”
“Inuki will stay with you.”
They both had good days and bad days, but 1999 had hit her much younger. Her bad days were very bad.
“When Kamui-kun was upset I always gave him pocky,” she announced out of the blue. “Maybe I should eat more pocky.”
But even on bad days, she was still Yuzuriha.
xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki (any timeline): food, sake, fur
"We," Watanuki announced in the most definitive voice he could muster, "are not taking that kitten."
Doumeki gazed at him blankly over the kitten in his hands. The kitten mewed.
"We don't need a kitten!" Watanuki exploded. "What would we do with a kitten? And cat fur! Everywhere! In the food! And that's another thing! Who do you think would have to feed it and take care of it? ME."
Doumeki absently set the kitten down on his lap. "If you don't want to take it to the vet, I'll do that," he said, like Watanuki was some incompetent who couldn’t even take a cat to the vet.
"Oh, Watanuki-kun, it's so cute," Himawari-chan cooed, leaning over Doumeki’s shoulder to peer at the kitten, which made Watanuki uncomfortable for more reasons than he could name. "And it loves Doumeki-kun already!"
Doumeki stared at the kitten. The kitten stared at Doumeki. Doumeki patted at it ineptly. Watanuki suspected that Haruka-san had tried to explain affection to his grandson, but clearly it had never taken.
"But Himawari-chan, Doumeki is an idiot,” Watanuki wailed. “Sure, he's adorable now! Kitten, Doumeki, it seems like a good idea. But what about the next time he staggers home after an unholy booze-up with Yuuko-san? What then? Who'll be left taking care of the cat and the drunk then?”
"I'm not a drunk," Doumeki put in mildly, while the kitten curled into a contented, purring ball. "Yuuko-san keeps good sake. If she invites me, it’s stupid to turn her down."
"Stupid," Watanuki hissed.
“Not that that would stop you,” Doumeki continued thoughtfully. “So you may not understand.”
“How well do you understand this?” Watanuki asked with fragile calm. “7-Eleven bento all week.”
“Watanuki-kun and Doumeki-kun are so cute together!” Himawari-chan said happily. “Oh, I’ll buy the kitten for you. It’s too perfect.”
“We are not cute! And…perfect for what, Himawari-chan?” Watanuki asked, worried.
“Everything!” she answered brightly. “A pet is exactly what you and Doumeki-kun need. Pets are wonderful.”
Tampopo peeped confirmation.
“But, Himawari-chan,” Watanuki said desperately, “we can’t have a kitten. We work strange hours. Who’ll raise it? It’ll be home all alone, it won’t eat well, it won’t know it has owners at all! We can’t.”
For some reason, both Doumeki and Himawari-chan were staring at him. He was actually used to being ignored, so the staring was. Unsettling.
“What?” he demanded.
“You’ll be a good father to your kitten, Watanuki-kun,” Himawari-chan said gently. “Please don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?”
“We’ll leave it with my parents when we’re away,” Doumeki said, still staring. Staring rudely and blatantly and, and…in public.
“You’re going to burden your parents with our kitten? What kind of son are you?”
“They won’t mind.”
“How do you know that? Maybe they’re allergic to cats!”
The kitten stood, stretched, and reached a paw out to Watanuki.
When Watanuki hesitantly reached back, it hissed and hid behind Doumeki.
Watanuki crossed his arms. “We are not taking that cat.”
“I’m calling it Kimihiro,” Doumeki said.
The second one I was originally trying to make happy. Not that you can tell that now.
The third one I'm happy with. Kittens! Doumeki and kittens. This is a winning formula. :)
X, Kamui, post X (dead or alive - your choice): chair, lightning, spider
"There is no right answer," Kamui whispered, perched precariously on a broken chair inside the ruin of an apartment building. His voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain outside, the dripping water inside.
"But you have to pick a side anyway. Or, or." He edged forward; the chair tilted. "Or you can pick no side. Like Subaru. Subaru unchose. His side picked him, but then the other side picked him, and he picked nothing but he died anyway. Destiny. That’s what they call it when God doesn’t like you enough to let you choose."
The sky flashed, illuminating the ruin, but it was lightning, only lightning. Dragons didn’t light the sky anymore. The world was finished with Dragons.
"I was going to fix it but he didn't let me," Kamui explained. "I was, I wanted to. I did. Fuuma said I didn't but he didn't know. He didn't know as much as he thought he did. He didn't."
Kamui leaned further, reaching toward a shattered fragment of wall with shaking fingers. He leaned too far, and his chair didn't so much break as disintegrate.
He hardly seemed to notice. He pushed himself up off the broken floor where he'd fallen, ignoring the bleeding gash on his cheek, and crawled toward the wall. He searched carefully, wide eyes in a thin face, dirty fingers gently exploring the wall as if he were blind. Eventually he found what he'd been talking to.
"You have to choose," he whispered seriously to the spider. "You're different, you're strong, they always said so. No one can save them but you. No one, no one. Hurry."
The spider crawled uneasily across the wall, but there was nothing for it to hide behind. Kamui followed, watching intently.
“Do you want to live?” he asked curiously. “They say you have to want to live if you want to help. And of course you want to live. Everybody wants to live. Except he says they don’t. He said. He said you can’t save anything if you don’t even want to save yourself.”
Kamui edged closer, tipping his head. The spider tucked its legs in protectively.
"Don't you love them?" he asked, anger creeping into his voice. "If you loved them, you would protect them. If you loved them, you would save them. If you loved them, you would know what you want."
He slammed his hand to the wall, and the rumble it made as it collapsed chased the echoes of his screams around the shell of the building.
Eventually the rumbling stopped, and the dust settled, and there was no sound except of the rain, falling unobstructed into the remains of the room.
Kamui pulled himself clear of the debris, staring at the pile of dust where there had once been a wall and a spider.
"Ashes to ashes," he hissed, wild-eyed. "It's only what you deserved."
He staggered away from the building, into the rain and the encroaching wilderness.
X, Yuzuriha/Kusanagi (any time during or after X): dogs, cup, combat boots, trees
"Which do you like better? Dogs or cats?" Yuzuriha asked, perched precariously on a branch of the tree they were having lunch in. Kusanagi knew, logically, that she was a Dragon of Heaven, demonstrably an amazing survivor, and that the last thing he needed to worry about was her falling from a tree. He knew that, and yet he had to fight against the impulse to pull her closer and demand that she be careful.
"Depends on whether or not I'm in the mood to be ignored, I guess," he replied.
"Huh," she said, edging even further out to peer at the birds on the branch below. Little Inuki gave a warning growl--at least Kusanagi wasn't alone in the irrational fretting.
"Inuki!" Yuzuriha said, surprised. "You worry too much!"
Inuki rumbled unhappily, and Yuzuriha sighed and edged back toward the trunk. "For me it depends on whether I'm in the mood to be mothered."
Kusanagi tried not to let on how relieved he was that she'd stopped...leaning. He passed her a cup of tea in an attempt to distract her from the birds.
"Who do you miss more?" she asked, accepting the tea. "The Angels or the Seals?"
So this was going to be one of those days.
"I didn't know any of them particularly well, except for you," he reminded her. "I was trying to pretend I wasn't involved. You must miss the Seals, though."
"I do," she said, with the blank expression he'd never seen before the end of 1999. "But I would have missed you most of all, if you'd gone. Even more than Sorata-san and Arashi-san and Kamui-kun. Does that make me a bad Seal?"
"I think it just makes you a good human. You saw your enemies for what they were," he said quietly.
"Huh," she replied, dismissive, and absently kicked the air with her combat boots.
The boots were another thing that had made an appearance after 1999. Kusanagi couldn't decide if she found it comforting to dress like him, or if it was just that she spent a lot of time wanting to kick things.
“The birds will die when everything else does, won’t they? Do you think the dogs and cats will die?”
Oh, yes. This was going to be one of those days.
“Come here, Yuzuriha.”
“What if you were right and I was wrong?”
“Come here.”
He pulled her close, tucked her head under his chin, and settled in to wait out the storm.
“I didn’t want you to die.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want them to die, either. They still died.”
“I know.”
“You’ll die too, someday. You’ll probably die before me.”
“Inuki will stay with you.”
They both had good days and bad days, but 1999 had hit her much younger. Her bad days were very bad.
“When Kamui-kun was upset I always gave him pocky,” she announced out of the blue. “Maybe I should eat more pocky.”
But even on bad days, she was still Yuzuriha.
xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki (any timeline): food, sake, fur
"We," Watanuki announced in the most definitive voice he could muster, "are not taking that kitten."
Doumeki gazed at him blankly over the kitten in his hands. The kitten mewed.
"We don't need a kitten!" Watanuki exploded. "What would we do with a kitten? And cat fur! Everywhere! In the food! And that's another thing! Who do you think would have to feed it and take care of it? ME."
Doumeki absently set the kitten down on his lap. "If you don't want to take it to the vet, I'll do that," he said, like Watanuki was some incompetent who couldn’t even take a cat to the vet.
"Oh, Watanuki-kun, it's so cute," Himawari-chan cooed, leaning over Doumeki’s shoulder to peer at the kitten, which made Watanuki uncomfortable for more reasons than he could name. "And it loves Doumeki-kun already!"
Doumeki stared at the kitten. The kitten stared at Doumeki. Doumeki patted at it ineptly. Watanuki suspected that Haruka-san had tried to explain affection to his grandson, but clearly it had never taken.
"But Himawari-chan, Doumeki is an idiot,” Watanuki wailed. “Sure, he's adorable now! Kitten, Doumeki, it seems like a good idea. But what about the next time he staggers home after an unholy booze-up with Yuuko-san? What then? Who'll be left taking care of the cat and the drunk then?”
"I'm not a drunk," Doumeki put in mildly, while the kitten curled into a contented, purring ball. "Yuuko-san keeps good sake. If she invites me, it’s stupid to turn her down."
"Stupid," Watanuki hissed.
“Not that that would stop you,” Doumeki continued thoughtfully. “So you may not understand.”
“How well do you understand this?” Watanuki asked with fragile calm. “7-Eleven bento all week.”
“Watanuki-kun and Doumeki-kun are so cute together!” Himawari-chan said happily. “Oh, I’ll buy the kitten for you. It’s too perfect.”
“We are not cute! And…perfect for what, Himawari-chan?” Watanuki asked, worried.
“Everything!” she answered brightly. “A pet is exactly what you and Doumeki-kun need. Pets are wonderful.”
Tampopo peeped confirmation.
“But, Himawari-chan,” Watanuki said desperately, “we can’t have a kitten. We work strange hours. Who’ll raise it? It’ll be home all alone, it won’t eat well, it won’t know it has owners at all! We can’t.”
For some reason, both Doumeki and Himawari-chan were staring at him. He was actually used to being ignored, so the staring was. Unsettling.
“What?” he demanded.
“You’ll be a good father to your kitten, Watanuki-kun,” Himawari-chan said gently. “Please don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?”
“We’ll leave it with my parents when we’re away,” Doumeki said, still staring. Staring rudely and blatantly and, and…in public.
“You’re going to burden your parents with our kitten? What kind of son are you?”
“They won’t mind.”
“How do you know that? Maybe they’re allergic to cats!”
The kitten stood, stretched, and reached a paw out to Watanuki.
When Watanuki hesitantly reached back, it hissed and hid behind Doumeki.
Watanuki crossed his arms. “We are not taking that cat.”
“I’m calling it Kimihiro,” Doumeki said.