Category: Final Fantasy X

Genre: Romance/Angst

Spoilers: Minor

Rating: G

Summary: Wakka/Lulu/Chappu love triangle, pre and post pilgrimage. WORK IN PROGRESS!

Etc: Jealousy comes from self-love, rather than from  true love.

Twenty-one pearls for a girl’s twenty-first birthday.

Possessed by the idea, he thinks nothing of what the implications of such a hard sought gift might imply to Lulu or to his brother for that matter… All he thinks of is Lulu’s appreciative surprise and how the shining necklace will look on her white neck.

He finds the twenty-first seventeen days before her birthday.  It takes him two more weeks to find a jeweler he can trust to carve each one and string them together.

She asks if she has found a gift for her yet, and he can scarcely contain his excitement. He offers no hints and she purses her lips and arches her eyebrow in just that way, but he is unmoved. He grins and shakes his head.

  “Not even a little hint?” She says and even she, the queen of stoic, cannot mask her intrigue. ”I begin to think you haven’t even gotten one for me.”

He winks and lopes away, because he thinks if she keeps looking at him like that he just might spill the pearls… beans.

His brother sits on the damp sand with his head in hands.

“What am I going to do?” his brother, his only family, murmurs in distress. “It has to be perfect! This one is special–”

–this time I’m going to ask her to marry me.

Chappu doesn’t say it but Wakka hears it anyway.

Author: DeSilva

Category: Final Fantasy X

Spoilers: Strong

Rating: G

Summary: As an every morn practice Yuna goes to the shores of her Besaid Island village to call for her dream boy but each time he only seems to move farther away.

Disclaimer: DUH

Author’s Note: Italics are what Tidus has said in the past. Any other words are the translated lyrics to Suteki Da Ne (Isn’t It Wonderful) condensed.

Etc: “Memories are nice, but that’s all they are.” –Rikku, Final Fantasy X

o0o

If acting grown up means I won’t be able to say what I want then screw it! Nothing with change that way!

You sure it’s ruins?

Hey, I’ve got an idea.

Yuna!

Yuna…

With a quiet sniffle Yuna burrowed further into the soft coverlet of her futon.

“Hey, Yuna!” The cheery voice of a sunny teenage blitzer echoed in her mind. “Whatchya’ up to?”

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and felt a dampness at the corners of eyes.

“Such deep thinking… is very unbecoming of a summoner—sound like Mika?”

Abandoning any hope of extended rest that morning, she abruptly sat up and kicked off the blankets tangled around her legs and midriff.

“Yuna, I won’t let you die!”

Throughout almost half of her pilgrimage he had been with her, oblivious to the fate that awaited her when she invoked the final aeon… Maybe that was why she had wanted him along. It felt good to have someone, anyone, look at her without that muddled gaze as they lamented her young age and continued to pray for her sucessful pilgrimage.

“Hey I’ve got an idea!”

Just like he promised, he’d found a way for her to live—defeat Yu Yevon and put an end to Sin once and for all.

Not until almost the end did she find that the tables had been turned and that she was unknowingly accompanying him to his death.

How long had she tried calling him…?

“Yuna, if we’re ever separated just whistle and I’ll come running.”

He hadn’t, but she’d never fault him for it.

“Yuna, I hope you can forgive me… I hope I didn’t make you sad.”

As was her morning routine: she combed her shoulder length dirty-blonde hair, donned her bright yellow obi, and tugged on her soft leather boots. Nothing could be done for the wrinkles in her skirt if she wanted to be gone before everyone else in the village was up and about… especially if she wanted to avoid the ever persistent emissaries that had been arriving every other day to request the High Summoner’s sponsorship.

She’d brought them an Eternal Calm… was it so much to ask for a little calm and some tranquility of her own?

The little cove on the eastern side of the waterfront, conveniently isolated, was the ideal sanctuary for the High Summoner. Quietly, she crept out under the cover of the last vestiges of night to carry out this private vigil… this clandestine ritual.

Concealed in the hidden cove, just off the pier, she sat down on the slightly damp sand.

Pressing her fingers to her lips she whistled, long and shrilly. Tears spilled down her pale cheeks and she began to sing with a trembling voice.

“My heart trembled in the moon swayed mirror, soft tears spilled with a stream of stars.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t show you Zanarkand…”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could walk hand in hand? I’d want to go to your town, your home, in your arms.”

As he faded she couldn’t even embrace him to convey the love and gratitude she had for him.

“I dream of being against your chest, my heart in your keeping, disappearing into the evening.”

He was really her dream boy…

“My dream of your face that I softly touch melts into the morning.”

The dream that faded.

Author: DeSilva

Category: 7^th Heaven

Genre: Romance, Angst

Spoilers: All

Rating: G – T

Summary: Random romantic instances of Marthie.

Author’s Note:  Written back when there was at least some hope of this ‘ship sailing…

Etc: “I’d like to run away /From you/But if you didn’t come/And find me/I would die” –Shirley Bassey

[1] Sun

Martin has a perpetual a sense of vertigo and of being hollow and hungry. Maybe it’s just the bare shelves and unadorned walls that come with the first weeks of a move… It’s as if without complete furnishings, without a cluttered bookshelf, or a table littered with keys, coins, and other such nicknacks to weigh it down the house might just float away.

Even though his mother has been gone a long time at least there had been those little touches that remained that were essence of her. Like the giant afghan she’d crocheted thrown over the sofa, or the painted lamb figurines on the mantle, or an old hairbrush they’d all once shared…

He watches the bustling comings and goings of the family across the street and he feels just a little more hollow just a little more hungry.

One sunny day on his way home from school he recognizes the girl from next door, who is probably not much younger than himself. He finds himself following her and the boy she’s with but just can’t bring himself to go the little (but oh, it feels elephantine) distance to properly acquaint himself. He circles her, caught in her gravity.

[2] Sisters

Martin isn’t sure what having a sister is supposed to be like (even if sometimes his bubble headed aunt was more like a sister) but he’s sure that no sister was ever such a cheeky, bossy little flirt as Ruthie Camden.

[3] Enlightened

In the five seconds it takes for Martin Brewer to recognize just what a breach this embrace is of the brother-sister relationship he’s so inexorably upheld with Ruthie Camden, five minute but significant little details are fixed into his memory.

Martin is used to thinking of Ruthie as undersized but holding her, and as close as this, enlightens him as to just how small the girl really is. Not in height but in the build and breadth of her, in the slenderness of her neck and wrists, the hollow of her throat, the flow of her back, and the curve of her cheek against his chest.

Martin has always favored taller, older, blonder girls. It is with some bemusement he notes how this petite, two years younger brunette fits perfectly under his chin.

[4] Thinking and Crying

Martin does think of Ruthie as his little sister… at least when she isn’t directing that impish little grin at him, crying, making him cry, or resting her cheek in the small hollow between his shoulder and chest.

Title: Forget Me Not (CATCHY I know, I mean there are only like a HUNDRED Sesshoumaru centric fanfics with that title…)

Author: DeSilva

Category: Inuyasha

Spoilers: None (AU)

Rating: T

Summary: Sesshoumaru will count the seconds until the return of spring. (Sesshoumaru centric, posthumous Rin love)

Disclaimer: I don’t own InuYasha.

Author’s Note: Supposed to allude to Sesshoumaru’s (PATERNAL) love for Rin and maybe even suggest that he’d wait for her return. This was originally intended as the introductory chapter of a story in which Sesshoumaru waits for Rin’s reincarnation but finds Kagome instead. Through her he is eventually reunited with Rin.

Etc: “I miss you like the sun misses the flower; like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter.” –A Knight’s Tale

I ought to kill her. Sesshoumaru thinks. Now, before she ruins and ruins me.

Rin turns to look at him, and he frowns marginally. She frowns in return and for a moment it is as if she somehow captured this fleeting thought.

But then she smiles a gapped toothed smile and the thought flutters away like one of her butterflies.

.

She presses a tiny flower, blue and boring and not even sweet-smelling, into his hand. He smiles almost imperceptibly and tucks it into his sleeve. She grins widely and flounces away, humming to herself.

.

He turns to look at her again, and his brows angle sharply. She is old and her visions fails her; she does not see his expression.

She is wilting. He thinks. She will wither all away, soon.

She smiles toothlessly and he wilts too, just a little bit.

.

One day he returns to find that she is gone.

The tightening in his chest is beyond his comprehension and his eyes demand where is she of the two remaining.

“This morning she wandered away…” his aged vassal informs him hoarsely. “Her trail disappeared into the ocean.”

“I see.” A shadow of pain flies across his eyes before the veil of careful indifference falls back into place.

.

When he has retraced her steps to the shore, he finds a flower that had lain his pocket for some time, dry and wilted and utterly forgotten. 

Was she still smiling when she walked into the sea?

 His shoulders sag and his eyes droop. He is old, old with wandering, and tired, so so tired.

He crushes the skeleton of a flower between his fingers and sprinkles it into the tenebrous waters.

He never finds her body.

.

Thirty-one million, five hundred and thirty-six thousand seconds later he sighs. His thoughts meander and drift along, as aimless as his wandering feet.

He comes to a sudden halt and, surprised by the abruptness of the stop, Jaken jerks Ah Un’s reins a little too sharply, causing the scaled mount to rear irritably.

Ignoring this altogether, Sesshoumaru glanced down at the dappled grass, flecked with many tiny white and blue flowers.

Quickly he stoops, plucking a single one of the delicate blue tinted blooms which he stows in his sleeve.

Curiosity (hope) has aroused a new resolve within him. He straightens and the procession continues without a word.

She had once asked of him: “Will you forget me Lord Sesshoumaru?”

…..

Sesshoumaru does not forget.