no. 07 : it's a meme! a meme! also word vomit.

[allmiracles]

omg guys. so vanille has reached over 5,000 comments!! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, RIGHT? IT'S TIME FOR AN EVERYTHING MEME. i mean everything. i promise i won't even flake, all you people that i flaked on before. relationships, first impressions, headcanon, drabbles (including "5 things" drabbles), questions, hot or not, fst, blah blah blah, you can even make up stuff and i'll do it.

this includes vanille, dante & ryoji.

Comments

4.

[allmiracles]

(1) "You've gotten better." When she heard the words, from Fang no less, her whole expression brightened, and she felt her heart swell beneath her chest. The fighting never came as easily as it did to her as it did to Fang.

"It was nothing," Vanille said, letting her own words come easily, never forcing them. It made them more believable.

With the compliment it was easier to justify the training. The times she would fall over he feet, force herself back up, and try again. Over, and over again until the breath in her lungs would ache, and every step back to Oerba caused a little her legs to feel like jelly.

"Right? Just like that! Easy."



(2) It was something Vanille had never forgotten. A dream of someone she had never seen before.

Usually her dreams were shared with Fang. There were times that they were side by side, and times they had to search through exotic, vibrantly colored landscapes or gray-washed cities to find each other. Sometimes she was aware she was dreaming, other times it was like those quiet moments back home, and the dream passed as real life was just a memory.

But she was here alone, heart beating furiously in her chest.

She was here with another woman. Around them was an Oerba of ruin, the stranger clad in foreign clothes pulled tight with straps and buckles, a pale colored hair resting in a curl over her shoulder. The sense of foreboding within her clutched her heart and drew every breath from her lungs.

Behind this woman, hovering over the ocean, a storm was coming.



(3) "We'll see Pulse together!" she said, surprised at her own words. Someone had once told her that she let people in far too quickly, so she kept her voice low, as if that would somehow make it less obvious. Or maybe it was to keep her own spirit from dragging.

The boy wasn't paying attention, but the first thing Vanille thought was that he looked like his mother. There were delicate features in his face, the curve of his eyes, downcast at the trembling train floor and a shape that was the same as the woman beside him. He didn't speak, and even his mother's gentle hand drawing across his shoulder didn't seem to faze him.

She smiled at her, and suddenly the words just leave Vanille's lips. "I'm sorry," She said, suddenly.

"I'm so sorry."

[allmiracles]

(4) "Fang had went to check the doorway. There was enough mist to make an escape, but Vanille found herself hesitant. This wasn't supposed to happen. This child was not meant to get involved—he was too young to be made into a tool.

Cocoon was a world where everyone was their enemy, but all she saw was smiling faces. They were kind, yet she reminded herself that they were still the people who had taken everything from Gran Pulse. Still enemies marked to die by the fal'Cie Anima.

Fang circled the room to the other side, ready to clear the path of their escape. The child was warm as Vanille stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. There was mark of the Sanctum fal'Cie. She had never seen it, but she knew what it was. The mixture of emotions that hit her would not allow her to cry. Between her own feelings of guilt and shock, there was a hollow distance.

"Daddy? I had a dream… I found you.



(5) There were times that Vanille could see it clearly, and times when she closed her eyes and left as quickly as it came. A face that she never forgot, that she never mentioned, that she kept close. There were kind hands, someone wrapping her in a blanket, someone who sat with her while she cried. If the words came, they caught in her throat and never came out.

It was easier to keep it.

It was hers.