Yuletide 2008 - CLAMP [Watanuki, Mokona; G], [Fujimoto/Kobato, Ioryogi; PG]
Title: Sympathy for the Devil
Author: chaineddove
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Characters/Pairings: Mokona, Watanuki
Wordcount: 390
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I hope this fic will bring a smile to someone’s face ♥
Author’s Notes: Larg is determined to send Soel a present and enlists Watanuki’s unwilling aid. My Yule gift to aiwritingfic. The prompt was: “yummy food.” Since you didn’t specify a fandom and doing Hikago would have meant Saeki/Ashiwara - again - I thought I’d try this, instead. I think you’re familiar with the characters, and it’s mindless fluff, after all ♥
***
“Why do I have to make them?” Watanuki fumes.
“Because!” Mokona tells him. It is perched on the kitchen counter, shifting from one foot to the other. “Presents have to be homemade, silly Watanuki! They mean more that way!”
“So why don’t you make them,” Watanuki tells it, jerkily stirring cake batter in his annoyance. “That way it will mean the most.”
“Mokona would,” Mokona says, “but Yuuko says Mokona is not allowed to use the oven. The last time Mokona tried, bad things happened.”
“Like what?” Watanuki wants to know.
“Bad things,” Mokona says meaningfully.
“Whatever,” Watanuki growls. “Denied. Get out of my kitchen.”
“Watanukiiiiiiiiiiiii~!” Mokona wails. “Why are you so mean?”
“I’m a bad, mean person,” Watanuki says through gritted teeth. “Go away. I have to finish making this cake for Yuuko-san.”
“If you make a cake, why not cookies for Mokona?” Mokona wants to know, persistent as always.
“Who stole my glasses last week?” Watanuki says. “You,” he answers himself. “Who sent me on that senseless treasure hunt? You. Who used my homework for origami practice? You. Who made me get up at three in the morning just to get sake!?”
“That was actually Yuuko,” Mokona corrects cheerfully.
“Nothing is even open that late!” Watanuki fumes. “No! I am not going to make you cookies! No!”
Mokona looks at him mournfully. “Mokona is sorry. Mokona understands. Mokona just wanted to send some cookies to the other Mokona. The other Mokona is having a very hard time. The other Mokona is very sad right now and Mokona thought cookies with a nice Christmas bow would cheer the other Mokona up, but since Watanuki is so selfish…”
Watanuki sighs. He feels a vein begin to pulse in his forehead. “Your sob story isn’t going to work on me,” he informs the small creature.
“Poor Mokona,” Mokona laments. “The other Mokona didn’t do anything to Watanuki, you know. The other Mokona is just dreaming of tasty Christmas cookies…”
Watanuki heaves a huge, suffering sigh. “Oh fine,”he says.
The tears immediately disappear from Mokona’s eyes. “With sugar sprinkles and shaped like snowflakes,” it specifies. “I’ll let you get to it!” It hops off the counter and whizzes out of the kitchen.
“Hey!” Watanuki shouts after it, realizing too late that he just got played. “You could at least say thank you!”
***
Title: And a Partridge in a Pear Tree
Author: chaineddove
Fandom: Kobato
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Characters/Pairings: Implied Fujimoto/Kobato, mentions of Ioryogi.
Wordcount: 897
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I hope this fic will bring a smile to someone’s face ♥
Author’s Notes: Kobato discovers holiday illumination, and Fujimoto does something nice. My Yule gift to dev_chieftain. The prompt was: “the emerald lightning bird.” I’m so sorry that Ioryogi ended up kind of marginal… This was what happened when I reflected on the prompt *lol*
***
Her response to the first holiday lights of the season is to gasp delightedly and clap her hands, her eyes wide and full of awe. Fujimoto - who has seen holiday lights about a thousand times and nearly fell off the roof at his part-time job while putting them up two days ago - is a little taken aback at her candid joy. Irritated, he tells her to shut her mouth before something flies in and she obediently covers it with one mittened hand. The mittens are pink and purple and lumpy - she has already babbled to him all about her landlady’s two daughters and their lovely gift - and match the ridiculous hat on her head.
“They’re just lights,” he tells her.
“Oh,” she says with something approaching reverence, “oh, but they’re so wonderful!”
He shrugs to hide his discomfort at her guilelessness and tells her, “Move it, or we’re going to be late to work.”
***
He plays the piano and doesn’t quite watch as she sings along with the children, her voice bright and clear as a bell. “Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!”
“Why are there so many birds?” a little girl demands.
“Yes, why? My mommy says Christmas is someone’s birthday! Do you give people birds for their birthday?”
“I thought it was just for toys and cake!”
“My daddy says it’s a holiday from another country.”
“Well, my big sister says it’s a time to spend with her boyfriend! She’s never said anything about birds, either-”
“Maybe if I ask, Mommy will get me a canary-”
“Why don’t we all make some birds to decorate our tree?” Sayaka intercedes smoothly, holding out a stack of multi-colored origami paper.
The children run after her, but Kobato lingers. “Why are there so many birds?” she asks.
Looking at the cheerful openness of her face, he can’t quite bring himself to tell her that the birds are probably gifts meant for the dinner table. “How should I know?” he says instead. “Figure it out for yourself.”
“You’re right!” she tells him, immediately fired up. “I need to understand this on my own!” She runs into the next room to flop on the floor with a rustle of her full skirt and pick up a sheet of origami paper. Shaking his head, Fujimoto goes to the kitchen to start preparing the children’s afternoon snack.
***
“I’ve been trying and trying, but I can’t figure it out,” she complains a few days later. He has somehow been maneuvered into escorting her home by Sayaka, and she is taking her time, looking around as they pass brightly decorated storefronts. The gray day is fading into twilight, and the lights are winking on one by one.
She is clutching her scowling stuffed dog and nearly drops it when she trips with a high-pitched yelp. Fujimoto catches her before she can go down on the ice, partially because she looks likely to let her nose break in her desperate attempts to keep the dog from harm. “Watch where you’re going,” he grumbles.
“I’m sorry! She exclaims, bowing and nearly losing her balance again. “I’m sorry! I was just thinking about the birds and-”
“Don’t do too much of that, or you’ll hurt yourself,” he tells her acidly.
“Really?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“You’ll believe any damn thing, won’t you?” he asks, exasperated.
“That’s what Ioryo - I mean, my very good friend says,” she tells him candidly. “He says, Dobato, you’ll believe any damn thing!”
“Smart friend,” Fujimoto says, secretly wondering how anyone can be sweet enough to unconditionally love someone regardless of how often they’re insulted by that person.
“Oh, yes! He’s very smart,” she says. “But he doesn’t know about the birds, either.” She looks thoughtful. “Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell me. He says it’s a waste of my time to wonder about stupid old songs, and he also says-”
“Come with me,” Fujimoto cuts off. She blinks at him. “Will you just come!” he repeats, incensed. For some reason, he is inexplicably annoyed at the fact that someone else is teasing her. Her cheerful recounting of it isn’t helping matters, either.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Listen, come or don’t come, I don’t care. Just stop asking questions.” She follows him, blue dog in hand.
***
There is a giant Christmas tree across from the department store. They stop in front of it just as the last vestiges of daylight fade away. “What are we-”
She gasps and falls silent as the lights come on, starting with a flash from the top and trickling down. The star on top of the tree is all golden green sparks. “Oh,” she says, “look at it. Just look! It’s just like a lightning bird came from the sky and perched there! It’s so beautiful! This is why we sing about birds at Christmas, isn’t it? I never would have guessed that on my own! Thank you, Fujimoto-kun!”
He looks and decides that yeah, if he squints a little, it kind of looks that way. He doesn’t really know why he brought her here, so it’s an unexpected bonus that she has drawn her own confusing conclusion. “There you go,” he tells her.
He knows he’s being an idiot, but her beaming smile seems brighter than all the lights put together.
Author: chaineddove
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Characters/Pairings: Mokona, Watanuki
Wordcount: 390
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I hope this fic will bring a smile to someone’s face ♥
Author’s Notes: Larg is determined to send Soel a present and enlists Watanuki’s unwilling aid. My Yule gift to aiwritingfic. The prompt was: “yummy food.” Since you didn’t specify a fandom and doing Hikago would have meant Saeki/Ashiwara - again - I thought I’d try this, instead. I think you’re familiar with the characters, and it’s mindless fluff, after all ♥
***
“Why do I have to make them?” Watanuki fumes.
“Because!” Mokona tells him. It is perched on the kitchen counter, shifting from one foot to the other. “Presents have to be homemade, silly Watanuki! They mean more that way!”
“So why don’t you make them,” Watanuki tells it, jerkily stirring cake batter in his annoyance. “That way it will mean the most.”
“Mokona would,” Mokona says, “but Yuuko says Mokona is not allowed to use the oven. The last time Mokona tried, bad things happened.”
“Like what?” Watanuki wants to know.
“Bad things,” Mokona says meaningfully.
“Whatever,” Watanuki growls. “Denied. Get out of my kitchen.”
“Watanukiiiiiiiiiiiii~!” Mokona wails. “Why are you so mean?”
“I’m a bad, mean person,” Watanuki says through gritted teeth. “Go away. I have to finish making this cake for Yuuko-san.”
“If you make a cake, why not cookies for Mokona?” Mokona wants to know, persistent as always.
“Who stole my glasses last week?” Watanuki says. “You,” he answers himself. “Who sent me on that senseless treasure hunt? You. Who used my homework for origami practice? You. Who made me get up at three in the morning just to get sake!?”
“That was actually Yuuko,” Mokona corrects cheerfully.
“Nothing is even open that late!” Watanuki fumes. “No! I am not going to make you cookies! No!”
Mokona looks at him mournfully. “Mokona is sorry. Mokona understands. Mokona just wanted to send some cookies to the other Mokona. The other Mokona is having a very hard time. The other Mokona is very sad right now and Mokona thought cookies with a nice Christmas bow would cheer the other Mokona up, but since Watanuki is so selfish…”
Watanuki sighs. He feels a vein begin to pulse in his forehead. “Your sob story isn’t going to work on me,” he informs the small creature.
“Poor Mokona,” Mokona laments. “The other Mokona didn’t do anything to Watanuki, you know. The other Mokona is just dreaming of tasty Christmas cookies…”
Watanuki heaves a huge, suffering sigh. “Oh fine,”he says.
The tears immediately disappear from Mokona’s eyes. “With sugar sprinkles and shaped like snowflakes,” it specifies. “I’ll let you get to it!” It hops off the counter and whizzes out of the kitchen.
“Hey!” Watanuki shouts after it, realizing too late that he just got played. “You could at least say thank you!”
***
Title: And a Partridge in a Pear Tree
Author: chaineddove
Fandom: Kobato
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Characters/Pairings: Implied Fujimoto/Kobato, mentions of Ioryogi.
Wordcount: 897
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I hope this fic will bring a smile to someone’s face ♥
Author’s Notes: Kobato discovers holiday illumination, and Fujimoto does something nice. My Yule gift to dev_chieftain. The prompt was: “the emerald lightning bird.” I’m so sorry that Ioryogi ended up kind of marginal… This was what happened when I reflected on the prompt *lol*
***
Her response to the first holiday lights of the season is to gasp delightedly and clap her hands, her eyes wide and full of awe. Fujimoto - who has seen holiday lights about a thousand times and nearly fell off the roof at his part-time job while putting them up two days ago - is a little taken aback at her candid joy. Irritated, he tells her to shut her mouth before something flies in and she obediently covers it with one mittened hand. The mittens are pink and purple and lumpy - she has already babbled to him all about her landlady’s two daughters and their lovely gift - and match the ridiculous hat on her head.
“They’re just lights,” he tells her.
“Oh,” she says with something approaching reverence, “oh, but they’re so wonderful!”
He shrugs to hide his discomfort at her guilelessness and tells her, “Move it, or we’re going to be late to work.”
***
He plays the piano and doesn’t quite watch as she sings along with the children, her voice bright and clear as a bell. “Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!”
“Why are there so many birds?” a little girl demands.
“Yes, why? My mommy says Christmas is someone’s birthday! Do you give people birds for their birthday?”
“I thought it was just for toys and cake!”
“My daddy says it’s a holiday from another country.”
“Well, my big sister says it’s a time to spend with her boyfriend! She’s never said anything about birds, either-”
“Maybe if I ask, Mommy will get me a canary-”
“Why don’t we all make some birds to decorate our tree?” Sayaka intercedes smoothly, holding out a stack of multi-colored origami paper.
The children run after her, but Kobato lingers. “Why are there so many birds?” she asks.
Looking at the cheerful openness of her face, he can’t quite bring himself to tell her that the birds are probably gifts meant for the dinner table. “How should I know?” he says instead. “Figure it out for yourself.”
“You’re right!” she tells him, immediately fired up. “I need to understand this on my own!” She runs into the next room to flop on the floor with a rustle of her full skirt and pick up a sheet of origami paper. Shaking his head, Fujimoto goes to the kitchen to start preparing the children’s afternoon snack.
***
“I’ve been trying and trying, but I can’t figure it out,” she complains a few days later. He has somehow been maneuvered into escorting her home by Sayaka, and she is taking her time, looking around as they pass brightly decorated storefronts. The gray day is fading into twilight, and the lights are winking on one by one.
She is clutching her scowling stuffed dog and nearly drops it when she trips with a high-pitched yelp. Fujimoto catches her before she can go down on the ice, partially because she looks likely to let her nose break in her desperate attempts to keep the dog from harm. “Watch where you’re going,” he grumbles.
“I’m sorry! She exclaims, bowing and nearly losing her balance again. “I’m sorry! I was just thinking about the birds and-”
“Don’t do too much of that, or you’ll hurt yourself,” he tells her acidly.
“Really?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“You’ll believe any damn thing, won’t you?” he asks, exasperated.
“That’s what Ioryo - I mean, my very good friend says,” she tells him candidly. “He says, Dobato, you’ll believe any damn thing!”
“Smart friend,” Fujimoto says, secretly wondering how anyone can be sweet enough to unconditionally love someone regardless of how often they’re insulted by that person.
“Oh, yes! He’s very smart,” she says. “But he doesn’t know about the birds, either.” She looks thoughtful. “Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell me. He says it’s a waste of my time to wonder about stupid old songs, and he also says-”
“Come with me,” Fujimoto cuts off. She blinks at him. “Will you just come!” he repeats, incensed. For some reason, he is inexplicably annoyed at the fact that someone else is teasing her. Her cheerful recounting of it isn’t helping matters, either.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Listen, come or don’t come, I don’t care. Just stop asking questions.” She follows him, blue dog in hand.
***
There is a giant Christmas tree across from the department store. They stop in front of it just as the last vestiges of daylight fade away. “What are we-”
She gasps and falls silent as the lights come on, starting with a flash from the top and trickling down. The star on top of the tree is all golden green sparks. “Oh,” she says, “look at it. Just look! It’s just like a lightning bird came from the sky and perched there! It’s so beautiful! This is why we sing about birds at Christmas, isn’t it? I never would have guessed that on my own! Thank you, Fujimoto-kun!”
He looks and decides that yeah, if he squints a little, it kind of looks that way. He doesn’t really know why he brought her here, so it’s an unexpected bonus that she has drawn her own confusing conclusion. “There you go,” he tells her.
He knows he’s being an idiot, but her beaming smile seems brighter than all the lights put together.