Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7
The 12 Days of Yuletide
0 reviewsReno goes a bit overboard with the presents for Yuletide. Contains fluff, innuendo, birds (lots and lots of birds) and wanton abuse of the 'give gold rings' concept.
1Funny
First Day
“What the hell is that?”
Reno grinned. “It’s a Chocobo chick.”
“I can see that. I mean what’s it sitting in?”
“A pear tree.”
Rude regarded his lover over his sunglasses. “What’s a pear tree?”
“Guy at the shop said it’s some sort of fruit. Pretty good, actually-I tried one earlier.”
“Never heard of it. So why’d you bring home a Chocobo chick in a pear tree?”
“It’s a Yuletide gift.”
Rude considered this a moment. “And what are we supposed to do with the Chocobo when it grows up? Cause I can guarantee you right now owning it violates the apartment lease”
“We’ll give it to the Children’s Zoo. Or release it in the wild.”
“We could always eat it.”
“You’d eat my Yuletide gift?”
“Hey, Chocobo, pears…you’ve got the beginnings of a nice meal right there.”
“You really don’t have a soul, do you?”
“Got plenty of soul, babe. But this apartment isn’t big enough for both of us and a grown Chocobo.”
Day Two
“You know, I never knew you had a bird fetish.” Reno smacked him in the arm. “So where’d the Chocobo chick go to?”
“I gave it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”
“And replaced it with…what the hell are those things anyway?”
“Turtle doves.”
“Aren’t they an endangered species?”
“Kind’ve.”
“Kind’ve?”
“It’s not illegal to own’em, but you’re not allowed to kill’em.”
“So we can’t eat them once they grow up?”
“They’re already fully grown, Rude.”
“Do they do anything in particular?”
“The guy I bought’em from says they sing.”
Rude considered this a moment. “Might not be that bad. We could clip their wings, keep’em from flying around the apartment.”
“One problem.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“They’re nocturnal.”
“So they only sing at night?”
“Yeah.”
Rude sighed.
“Maybe we could put’em out on the balcony?”
“Reno, I love you dearly, but sometimes you scare the hell out’ve me.”
Third Day
“More birds.”
“Yeah, but these ones are actually useful.”
“They’re also damn strange looking. Never seen a...what the hell are they anyway?”
“Wutain hens.”
“Are they’re supposed to have that weird thing on their head?”
“It’s called a topknot.”
“Why Wutain hens?”
“Tseng says they bring good luck. Plus, they lay eggs. Save us having to buy them.”
One of the hens chose that exact moment to stretch its skinny neck and let out what was a surprisingly loud crow for such a small bird.
Rude looked at Reno. “You know anything about hens?”
“No.”
“Trust me when I tell you that that one,” he pointed at the offending bird, who was preening, ‘is NOT a hen. The only thing we’ll likely get out of these three is baby Wutain hens.”
Reno frowned. “You mean it’s a guy hen?”
“They’re called roosters.”
Reno grinned. “Cool!”
Rude rubbed his forehead. Barely 10 in the morning, and already he felt a headache coming on. “Ren; it violates the city code for Edge to keep livestock inside the city limits.’
“Oh. Well Tseng’s not gonna be happy.”
“Why not?”
“He had to sign the papers to import them from Wutai.”
“He can send them to that ranch Rufus owns outside of Junon. They’ll be happy and can hatch little Wutain hens to their hearts content.” Reno looked exactly like a puppy that'd been kicked, so Rude pulled him into a hug. “Strawberry, your heart’s in the right place, okay? But you need to go with something more practical.”
“I guess the gift list is kind’ve old.”
“Wait. You’re getting all these things off some list?”
He nodded. “Got it out of a book about Yuletide traditions Lena bought to work. There’s a list of what you’re supposed to get your lover for the 12 Days of Yuletide.”
“I’ve got nine more days of this to look forward to?”
“Not exactly. I’m not gonna give you the gift for Day Five till last. And if there’s rules against keeping wild animals in town, then I can’t give you gifts four, six and seven. But I think I’ve figured out a way to combine those plus the gifts for days eight through 12 into one package.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m staring down the barrel of a loaded gun?”
Reno smirked. “Just make sure your tuxedo’s dry cleaned.”
Day Four and Six through Twelve
Rude hated the opera.
It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the arts. When he’d first come to Midgar at age 14, he’d gone to see the latest theatrical production of ‘Loveless’ at least once a week for close to a year. He loved movies and music. He and Reno had gone to a lot of concerts before Midgar fell, and frequented a couple of clubs that had popped into being when construction on Edge got started in earnest.
But he still hated the opera. Some of it, he supposed, was that he’d never actually been to a production just to watch the show. He was usually playing guard dog for Old Man Shinra or Rufus, which meant he spent most of his time eyeballing the crowd for anyone who looked like they might decide to storm the Presidential Box and do something stupid.
He’d also never understood why they couldn’t sing the damn songs in the common language. Why did they always have to perform in some language that was either dead (early-era Costan), or that he didn’t understand (Wutain)?
Trying not to fidget, he glanced over at Reno. He would’ve never taken the kid for an opera fanatic, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.
At least one of them was happy.
It might have been better if he’d known what the plot was. The program they’d handed him when they came in only listed the names of the performers and the songs they sang. All he’d been able to figure out thus far was that the whole thing somehow involved milkmaids, Lords and Ladies, and what looked to be a pipe and drum corp. All the performers had good voices, which made him wish he understood what they were singing about.
Although even then, it probably wouldn’t make any sense. He’d gone to the library once and checked out some books about the more popular operas, only to discover, upon reading them, that the plots didn’t seem to correlate with what was happening onstage.
Reno nudged him with his elbow and leaned over. “Pretty good production, isn’t it?”
Rude wanted to tell him that it would be even better if he knew what the fuck was happening up there, but dammit, the kid was trying so hard to do things for him, even though everything he’d done thus far had gone wrong.
He smiled. “Not bad.”
“Hey, look!” Rude followed his pointing finger to the stage, where the milkmaids were now herding six geese across the stage. He’d missed the artificial pond in the background up till now; but there were seven swans swimming in it, flapping their wings and occasionally hissing at each other.
“Those were supposed to be your gifts for days seven and six. But I figured you’d had enough of birds to last you a lifetime, so I donated them to the Opera Society in your name.”
It took a minute to sink in. “You donated them in my name?”
“Check the back of the program.”
He turned it over and there it was.
DONATIONS:
From Mr. Ruderick Johansen of Edge-Four calling birds, six geese and seven swans.
He looked back at Reno. “What the hell are calling birds?”
His answer was an unearthly screech from the stage, where one of the milkmaids was trying (unsuccessfully) to corral four birds roughly the size of a half-grown Chocobo. Rude had never seen anything like them before; brightly colored feathers in every shade conceivable. As he watched, one of them fanned out a tail that shimmered dark green and gold under the stage lights.
He looked at Reno, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Even I’ve got enough sense to know you can’t be keepin’ something that looks and sounds like that in an apartment. Once the Yuletide season’s over, they’ll all go to live at the Edge Children’s Zoo, along with the Chocobo chick and the Turtle Doves and the two Wutain hens and one Wutain rooster. They’re gonna put your name on a plaque at the entrance as having donated them.”
“You’d do something like that for me? After I’ve been such a dick about everything?”
“You’re not a dick. You’re my Aibou, and I love you, okay?”
“You realize that when we get home, I’m going to have to thank you?”
“I’m countin’ on it, partner. S’why I saved the fifth gift till last.”
Day Thirteen-Or Day Five, if You Want to be Picky
“Cock rings?’’
Reno grinned. “Not just any cock rings. Golden cock rings.”
“You bought me golden cock rings?” Reno nodded. “Why five?”
“Cause they’re all different. Take a closer look.”
Carefully, Rude removed a ring from the ornate wooden box. Whoever’d made these things had known what they were doing. The one he held in his hand now was heavy and fairly narrow. Picking through the other four, he discovered the size and thickness varied. Some of them had interesting looking little ridges on the inside or outside.
“You know, now that I’ve opened them we’re duty bound to try them out?”
“I was plannin’ on it, babe.”
Rude picked one out and held it up. “Who gets to try them first?”
“Well,” Reno was already half-undressed. “You could go first, since they’re your gift.
“Rude shook his head, smiling fondly. Ten years together, and watching Reno strip still turned him on. “Or you could go first, since I didn’t get you a present.”
“Course you did.” Reno sank down onto the bed next to him, and started unbuttoning his shirt. “You gave me you. That's worth more than all the golden cock rings in Edge."
The 12 Days of Yuletide-Edge Style
On the first day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
A Chocobo Chick in a Pear Tree
On the second day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the third day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the fourth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the fifth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the sixth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the seventh day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the eighth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the ninth day of Yuletide
my true love sent to me:
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the tenth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the eleventh day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the twelfth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
12 Drummers Drumming
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
“What the hell is that?”
Reno grinned. “It’s a Chocobo chick.”
“I can see that. I mean what’s it sitting in?”
“A pear tree.”
Rude regarded his lover over his sunglasses. “What’s a pear tree?”
“Guy at the shop said it’s some sort of fruit. Pretty good, actually-I tried one earlier.”
“Never heard of it. So why’d you bring home a Chocobo chick in a pear tree?”
“It’s a Yuletide gift.”
Rude considered this a moment. “And what are we supposed to do with the Chocobo when it grows up? Cause I can guarantee you right now owning it violates the apartment lease”
“We’ll give it to the Children’s Zoo. Or release it in the wild.”
“We could always eat it.”
“You’d eat my Yuletide gift?”
“Hey, Chocobo, pears…you’ve got the beginnings of a nice meal right there.”
“You really don’t have a soul, do you?”
“Got plenty of soul, babe. But this apartment isn’t big enough for both of us and a grown Chocobo.”
Day Two
“You know, I never knew you had a bird fetish.” Reno smacked him in the arm. “So where’d the Chocobo chick go to?”
“I gave it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”
“And replaced it with…what the hell are those things anyway?”
“Turtle doves.”
“Aren’t they an endangered species?”
“Kind’ve.”
“Kind’ve?”
“It’s not illegal to own’em, but you’re not allowed to kill’em.”
“So we can’t eat them once they grow up?”
“They’re already fully grown, Rude.”
“Do they do anything in particular?”
“The guy I bought’em from says they sing.”
Rude considered this a moment. “Might not be that bad. We could clip their wings, keep’em from flying around the apartment.”
“One problem.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“They’re nocturnal.”
“So they only sing at night?”
“Yeah.”
Rude sighed.
“Maybe we could put’em out on the balcony?”
“Reno, I love you dearly, but sometimes you scare the hell out’ve me.”
Third Day
“More birds.”
“Yeah, but these ones are actually useful.”
“They’re also damn strange looking. Never seen a...what the hell are they anyway?”
“Wutain hens.”
“Are they’re supposed to have that weird thing on their head?”
“It’s called a topknot.”
“Why Wutain hens?”
“Tseng says they bring good luck. Plus, they lay eggs. Save us having to buy them.”
One of the hens chose that exact moment to stretch its skinny neck and let out what was a surprisingly loud crow for such a small bird.
Rude looked at Reno. “You know anything about hens?”
“No.”
“Trust me when I tell you that that one,” he pointed at the offending bird, who was preening, ‘is NOT a hen. The only thing we’ll likely get out of these three is baby Wutain hens.”
Reno frowned. “You mean it’s a guy hen?”
“They’re called roosters.”
Reno grinned. “Cool!”
Rude rubbed his forehead. Barely 10 in the morning, and already he felt a headache coming on. “Ren; it violates the city code for Edge to keep livestock inside the city limits.’
“Oh. Well Tseng’s not gonna be happy.”
“Why not?”
“He had to sign the papers to import them from Wutai.”
“He can send them to that ranch Rufus owns outside of Junon. They’ll be happy and can hatch little Wutain hens to their hearts content.” Reno looked exactly like a puppy that'd been kicked, so Rude pulled him into a hug. “Strawberry, your heart’s in the right place, okay? But you need to go with something more practical.”
“I guess the gift list is kind’ve old.”
“Wait. You’re getting all these things off some list?”
He nodded. “Got it out of a book about Yuletide traditions Lena bought to work. There’s a list of what you’re supposed to get your lover for the 12 Days of Yuletide.”
“I’ve got nine more days of this to look forward to?”
“Not exactly. I’m not gonna give you the gift for Day Five till last. And if there’s rules against keeping wild animals in town, then I can’t give you gifts four, six and seven. But I think I’ve figured out a way to combine those plus the gifts for days eight through 12 into one package.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m staring down the barrel of a loaded gun?”
Reno smirked. “Just make sure your tuxedo’s dry cleaned.”
Day Four and Six through Twelve
Rude hated the opera.
It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the arts. When he’d first come to Midgar at age 14, he’d gone to see the latest theatrical production of ‘Loveless’ at least once a week for close to a year. He loved movies and music. He and Reno had gone to a lot of concerts before Midgar fell, and frequented a couple of clubs that had popped into being when construction on Edge got started in earnest.
But he still hated the opera. Some of it, he supposed, was that he’d never actually been to a production just to watch the show. He was usually playing guard dog for Old Man Shinra or Rufus, which meant he spent most of his time eyeballing the crowd for anyone who looked like they might decide to storm the Presidential Box and do something stupid.
He’d also never understood why they couldn’t sing the damn songs in the common language. Why did they always have to perform in some language that was either dead (early-era Costan), or that he didn’t understand (Wutain)?
Trying not to fidget, he glanced over at Reno. He would’ve never taken the kid for an opera fanatic, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.
At least one of them was happy.
It might have been better if he’d known what the plot was. The program they’d handed him when they came in only listed the names of the performers and the songs they sang. All he’d been able to figure out thus far was that the whole thing somehow involved milkmaids, Lords and Ladies, and what looked to be a pipe and drum corp. All the performers had good voices, which made him wish he understood what they were singing about.
Although even then, it probably wouldn’t make any sense. He’d gone to the library once and checked out some books about the more popular operas, only to discover, upon reading them, that the plots didn’t seem to correlate with what was happening onstage.
Reno nudged him with his elbow and leaned over. “Pretty good production, isn’t it?”
Rude wanted to tell him that it would be even better if he knew what the fuck was happening up there, but dammit, the kid was trying so hard to do things for him, even though everything he’d done thus far had gone wrong.
He smiled. “Not bad.”
“Hey, look!” Rude followed his pointing finger to the stage, where the milkmaids were now herding six geese across the stage. He’d missed the artificial pond in the background up till now; but there were seven swans swimming in it, flapping their wings and occasionally hissing at each other.
“Those were supposed to be your gifts for days seven and six. But I figured you’d had enough of birds to last you a lifetime, so I donated them to the Opera Society in your name.”
It took a minute to sink in. “You donated them in my name?”
“Check the back of the program.”
He turned it over and there it was.
DONATIONS:
From Mr. Ruderick Johansen of Edge-Four calling birds, six geese and seven swans.
He looked back at Reno. “What the hell are calling birds?”
His answer was an unearthly screech from the stage, where one of the milkmaids was trying (unsuccessfully) to corral four birds roughly the size of a half-grown Chocobo. Rude had never seen anything like them before; brightly colored feathers in every shade conceivable. As he watched, one of them fanned out a tail that shimmered dark green and gold under the stage lights.
He looked at Reno, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Even I’ve got enough sense to know you can’t be keepin’ something that looks and sounds like that in an apartment. Once the Yuletide season’s over, they’ll all go to live at the Edge Children’s Zoo, along with the Chocobo chick and the Turtle Doves and the two Wutain hens and one Wutain rooster. They’re gonna put your name on a plaque at the entrance as having donated them.”
“You’d do something like that for me? After I’ve been such a dick about everything?”
“You’re not a dick. You’re my Aibou, and I love you, okay?”
“You realize that when we get home, I’m going to have to thank you?”
“I’m countin’ on it, partner. S’why I saved the fifth gift till last.”
Day Thirteen-Or Day Five, if You Want to be Picky
“Cock rings?’’
Reno grinned. “Not just any cock rings. Golden cock rings.”
“You bought me golden cock rings?” Reno nodded. “Why five?”
“Cause they’re all different. Take a closer look.”
Carefully, Rude removed a ring from the ornate wooden box. Whoever’d made these things had known what they were doing. The one he held in his hand now was heavy and fairly narrow. Picking through the other four, he discovered the size and thickness varied. Some of them had interesting looking little ridges on the inside or outside.
“You know, now that I’ve opened them we’re duty bound to try them out?”
“I was plannin’ on it, babe.”
Rude picked one out and held it up. “Who gets to try them first?”
“Well,” Reno was already half-undressed. “You could go first, since they’re your gift.
“Rude shook his head, smiling fondly. Ten years together, and watching Reno strip still turned him on. “Or you could go first, since I didn’t get you a present.”
“Course you did.” Reno sank down onto the bed next to him, and started unbuttoning his shirt. “You gave me you. That's worth more than all the golden cock rings in Edge."
The 12 Days of Yuletide-Edge Style
On the first day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
A Chocobo Chick in a Pear Tree
On the second day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the third day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the fourth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the fifth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the sixth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the seventh day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the eighth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the ninth day of Yuletide
my true love sent to me:
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the tenth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the eleventh day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
On the twelfth day of Yuletide
my true love gave to me:
12 Drummers Drumming
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden cock rings
Four Calling Birds
Three Wutain Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a chocobo chick in a Pear Tree
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