ห ห ๐ฃฒ we must protect her ! . . . โย the last cetra, the flower girl.ย โ a semi-selective writing blog for the study/portrayal of AERITH GAINSBOROUGH. ห ห ๐ขึดเป โ
protected by CHRY, 30+ ooc, they/them.
๐ย โช my iddy-biddy rules list! โซ
๐ย โช just a couple more things โซ
๐ย โช a whole dump of tags โซ -- wip.
this is an open, safe space with no judgements. if you're going through a tough time right now, you're not alone. my dm's are always open โ let's chat. แฏโ
` * ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ : a mix of dialogue and action prompts. sent "+ reverse" to reverse the roles.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ :
โ you're gonna be okay , just keep your eyes on me.
โ don't move - you're going to make it worse.
โ it's not that bad.
โ you saved me once before , now it's my turn.
โ you fucking idiot , you weren't supposed to take the hit for me.
โ i told you not to do that! now look!
โ you're lucky that i know basic first aid , or you'd be dead!
โ stay with me, okay? stay awake.
โ i'll be as gentle as i can be , i promise.
โ you're bleeding - oh my god , you're bleeding.
โ you told me it was a scratch , this is not a fucking scratch!
โ there's so much blood.
โ next time you want to play here , just don't.
โ stop fighting me and let me help!
โ you're banned from doing anything remotely dangerous.
โ you could have died , what were you thinking?
โ if you die on me , i'm going to be pissed off.
โ you didn't have to be so reckless just to prove a fucking point.
โ the wound will heal but you'll have a scar.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ :
[ carry ] sender carries receivers muse to safety after finding them injured.
[ stitch ] sender stitches receivers wound.
[ hand ] sender holds receivers hand during a painful procedure.
[ wound ] sender cleans receivers wounds with gentle and shaky hands.
[ panic ] sender panics while trying to stop receiver's bleeding.
[ patch ] sender patches receiver up using makeshift materials (i.e. torn shirt).
[ fire ] sender drags receiver out of a burning building.
[ pressure ] sender puts deep pressure on receivers wound while yelling for help.
[ mouth ] sender gives receiver mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
[ change ] sender helps receiver change out of bloodied clothes.
[ wash ] sender helps wash dried blood off of receivers face.
[ shower ] sender helps receiver shower after an injury.
[ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks.
Cookies were somewhat of a commodity in the slums. They were mostly rationed, but now and again, a shop tender would be able to get their hands on a few extra boxes. Not every family in the slums were fortunate enough to be able to buy the individual ingredients to bake them from scratch, so pre-made cookies were heavily sought after by kids and adults alike.
On an outing with Zack, handing out her freshly picked flowers, Aerith noticed, at the corner of her eye, a boy's tearful recount of how his cookies had seemingly vanished without a trace. The boy's eyes suddenly glistened with a little flicker of hope as he watched the two kind souls approach him. He explained, "I spent every Gil I had on those cookies... I turned my back for a second and... now they're gone!"
Aerith knelt beside the 8-year old, her voice so soft and warm as she bent down to his level, "It's okay, Sammy. I'm sure they're not too far." she cooed gently as heavenly as she always did behind an empathetic smile, ever the optimist to see the brighter side of things. "My mom's cookies were the best part of my day too!" a small giggle escaped her pink lips. She pumped herself up with a stern determination in her tone, "Don't worry, we'll find the culprit," she promised as her gaze lingered upwards towards Zack who wasn't standing too far away from them, "--won't we, Zack?" she winked.
"Nothing feels real."
From Cloud! @strifeandhonour!!
Aerith listened intently to Cloud, her teal irises full of gentle and calm understanding. Her hand moved with tender hesitation, slowly resting atop Cloudโs clenched fingers, the warmth of her skin seeping gently through the material of his glove, hoping her simple softness would ground him, even just a little. There was no doubt that she'd become an undeniable anchor to the blonde's soul, but not to weigh him down -- to support him. Encourage him. Watch him shine.
She leaned in slightly, her voice but a soothing whisper, "It's okay to feel lost," a warm smile touched her lips as she caught the faint scent of blooming flowers in her garden, her voice as soft as the petals that drifted through the evening breeze. "--sometimes, it's hard to see the beauty in everything when there's so much darkness around you," she pondered the tempting thought of lacing her fingers between his, allowing him to relax, but she felt that it was too much of an overstep. "--but this moment, right now... it's ours. Real, even if everything else isn't, or doesn't feel like it."
"Ummm..." the brunette tilted her little head in mild confusion as her eyes passed the mess of flowers across the dirt. Zack's claim couldn't have been further from the truth -- the multicoloured petals that contrasted against his black hair kinda gave the game away. Whatever had happened, Aerith forgave him. It wasn't like her to hold anything against anyone. She knew it was only accident and he would've never done anything like this on purpose.
She stepped towards Zack, her confused expression slowly mellowing out into a cheeky grin as she reached up for one of the pink petals atop his head. "--are you sure?" she looked intensely at the petal, "Hm. I wonder where this came from then." and then to Zack. She sighed... fakely. "If you wanted a flower crown, all you had to do was ask, silly!"
* ห ห ๐ฃฒ flying high -- a one shot โธโธ writing preview ;
word count: 1,220
The doors of the decrepit church swung open with their usual loud creek, revealing a brunette beauty in pink strolling through with a rattan basket of pruning tools in one hand and an old, rusty watering can in the other. Today was like any other day for Aerith, where she would wake up in high spirits, tie her hair up with her favourite pink ribbon and set aside some time in the morning to tend to the lilies growing up from the little patch of soil within the abandoned sanctuary. After that, she would wander back home in search of other things to do for the rest of the day, maybe run an errand or two for her neighbours or play a game of tag with the orphans. Aerith didn't mind at all. It kept her busy and entertained throughout the long, mundane days in the Sector 5 slums.
"Good morning, flowers!" Aerith smiled warmly at them all, gently bending down to greet their butter-yellow faces. They swayed gently in the breeze that blew in through the destroyed rafters, almost as if they were elated to see her. The sunlight shone across her petaled friends perfectly, like a spotlight on a troupe of dainty ballerinas, and this made her so very happy. "You're getting lots of sun today, huh, guys?" She paused and tilted her head slightly, as if to listen quietly for a response. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes as she shared a quiet giggle with herself and answered, "--Youโre thirsty? I thought so! Good job I brought this..." She set her pruning basket down onto the fragile floorboards beside her and held the watering can up and out to them. "--how about a drink?" Her smile sparkled.
One by one, the Cetra watered every flower, caring for them attentively and carefully as if they were people with individual wants, needs and feelings. To Aerith, they were one in the same. Nothing brought her more fulfilment than looking after them and watching them bloom from bud to flower. They were her only real friends, after all, and they always listened to her and treated her with nothing but kindness, even when nobody else wanted to. "--aaaand... there," she set the can down and swept her hands together. A job well done. "--much better!" She kneeled down and reached for the weeding tool in her basket, and scanned across the stems to see if she could spot any troublesome weeds, pushing their petals aside delicately to get a better view here and there. As she did so, another gentle breeze came blowing in from the church's door-way, pushing the doors open just a crack. With it, in floated a single white feather. It landed softly on the floorboards. Aerith's concentration suddenly broke -- she paused. For a brief moment, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost. Perhaps she wasn't far off.
Aerith ceased her floral maintenance and rose up to face the doors behind her. She was enraptured by something, like she could hear an angel talking to her, bequeathing its holy knowledge. She could hear a voice. A familiar, comforting one. But she couldn't quite make out what it was saying to her. She struggled to fully understand its whispers. The only person who came to mind while hearing the voice was the SOLDIER that fell out of the sky and landed in the very same spot she was standing in now. It'd been shy of three years since she last saw his face. All of her letters, seemingly ignored. But, despite this, she didn't once believe that he ignored them on purpose. She'd always been able to feel his presence somehow, she just didnโt know where he was, or if he was even alive. She never doubted in his spirit, his determination. That puppy-like charm. And, if something had happened to him, Aerith was absolute in her belief that he fought strongly and proudly to the very end. She stood intently as she looked towards the daylight, listening as hard as she possibly could for any recognisable words, determined to capture their meaning. And then, as sharp as a halting train car, they diminished, the whistling wind and a chirping bird stealing the voice's place like nothing had ever happened. She sighed softly, looking down at the floor with a melancholy smile, her expression bearing a hidden pain that only those who dared to look would notice.
The disheartened Certa slowly turned back to look at her flowers once more and felt a relieving modicum of comfort return to her. "Yโknow," she began, holding her hands together gently, about to confess. "--sometimes I feel a little crazy, hearing all these voices..." Aerith would be lying if she said she felt like a regular girl. The only person who really believed her and her unique powers was her adoptive mother, Elmyra. She knew things about her chosen daughter that even Aerith herself didn't know, and frankly, wasn't ready to hear. Aerith knew that hearing voices, potentially of the deceased, wasn't normal, but, despite this, she never once doubted her instinct to believe in the life stream and its meaning and purpose. It helped her to see what others couldn't, and that was a gift worth cherishing, even if nobody else fully understood it. She carried on with her thoughts, "--Mom says they're voices of past lives, people who've returned to the life stream..." She didnโt want to accept it, but she couldn't deny the thought that sat on a cliff ledge at the back of her mind any longer. "--I know you're out there, and I know you can hear me, Zack..." That name hadn't graced her lips in so long. It felt good to say it in a weird sort of way. She continued on as she started to gather up her tools and watering can. "--I know you're trying to tell me something... I just can't hear it. Not yet, anyway. It's not the right time. I understand that now." As she turned around to depart the sanctuary, she spotted the single white feather on the floor that made its entrance a moment ago. The sight of such a pure thing made the Cetraโs face light up with emotional glee.
Aerith could feel a tear or two swelling at the corners of her vivid teal eyes, but she was a brave girl. However unhealthy it may have been, she knew how to force them back, having already been through so much heartache in her short but tragic life. "I bet youโre flying high, Zack. Just like you always wanted to." She acclaimed enthusiastically, closing her eyes and blinking away the bittersweet tears in the process. She laughed, "Youโre much braver than me," and bent down to pick up the feather, holding her watering can in the other hand, her basket now hooked around her elbow. She inspected the snow-white feather as she spoke on, "--I wouldnโt last five minutes up there -- it's scary!" she twirled it around between her fingers for a few seconds before rising to her full height again and storing it away in her basket. She headed for the doors, letting the sunlight catch her beautiful smile as she whispered optimistically, "...I think Iโll always love you, Zackโฆ wherever you are..."
memes and other prompt posts โโ I am totally fine with you dropping meme prompts and other random things into my ask box (providing they're not smut related), but if you don't see a reply within a reasonable amount of time, please be patient. I'm also totally cool with impromptu stuff in my inbox and crack stuff. Lastly, there's a little note for you reading this, yes you! If I respond to one of your prompts, I am absolutely not expecting a reply to said response. There's absolutely no pressure to make a thread out of answered prompts, they're just to get my creative juices flowing really. But at the same time, if you feel there's potential to carry it on as a thread, go for it!
i am not my muse โโ Dark, emotional plots and negative feelings of specific characters have no impact on what happens or how I may feel towards someone's mun. If Aerith dislikes your character, that absolutely does not mean I dislike you in real life. Iโm Chry and I promise I don't bite. Promise! I'm happy for an ooc chat over dm's if you'd like to get to know me a little more or even if you have any questions, problems etc. I want to be able to create a space where you all feel safe and comfortable. :3
respect โโ Please, please, PLEASE don't feel bitter if my interpretation of Aerith is different to that of your own. Everyone owns their chosen character/s in different ways and, therefore, should be allowed to express themselves freely without any fear of judgement. With that said, if my interpretation doesnโt meet your needs or expectations (example: you're looking for smut), please feel free to find someone out there that does. There are plenty of wonderful, skillful writers on this platform to discover!
interactions โโ please only interact with my blog if youโre 21 and over. I'm 31 out of character and I expect you to respect that I don't want to interact with anyone under this age bracket. If you are a minor and you ignore my rules, I WILL block you.
smut โโ smut is not something I do, publicly or in dm's. I'm open to shipping and romance, romantic and flirtatious language and gestures (stroking, holding hands, hugging, kissing, other misc. NON-SEXUAL physical affection). I'm totally fine with the idea of smut and nsfw themes appearing on my dash and I will occasionally reblog nsfw content myself, I'm not a prude or anything like that. I just don't like to write it, not even privately. So, as part of my rules, please respect this decision and do not pry.
positivity โโ it should go without saying, but please be kind and respectful when interacting. This is a safe space for me and my writing companions to express our creativity and have fun!ย Negativity will not be tolerated, so if I see any of that shit on my dash, my inbox or in my dm's, you will be blocked immediately. I only want to see love, support and mutual appreciation for a wonderful fandom and its characters.
writing with me โโ please feel free to message me out of character if you want to plot, along with any ideas you're open to, so that we can hatch it out and see where it goes. I don't match formatting (sorry if this ruins your aesthetic, it's just too much effort) I work full time (free on most evenings and weekends), so my replies WILL be sporadic -- time zone GMT. on the back of this, please do not expect replies/memes to be responded to in order or straight away. I tend to dart between lots of different responses at once as they develop in my head, so please don't be offended if I get to someone else's response or meme before yours. If I want to drop a thread, I will say, so please don't worry!
