Something I like about Clerith is how their personalities fit with each other
Cloud is not a people person, Aerith loves helping people around her and she help Cloud with that and encourages him to really get out of his shell.
Not forces him, okay, she encourages him to help others, and not just for the monet.
But they also both grew up without friends
Don't even bring up tifa bc she was a neighbor at best to Cloud.
But both Cloud and Aerith were bullied as kids, and that's something that they share.
Aerith is kind and will call out someone on their bullshit if she needs to, Clouds not very good at communicating. Aerith encourages Cloud to again come out of his shell on that part too.
That's just something Tifa and Zack can't do to Cloud and Aerith, I'm sorry but it's true in my opinion.
But, Zack and Tifas personalities work well together too
@kpoplovermjm
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Tomorrow Has To Wait, a Cloud & Aerith One-Shot
A FFVII Rebirth Cloud & Aerith fic. Contains spoilers through Gongaga (and beyond tbh). Cloud slips away into the night to be alone with his thoughts. How can he protect the ones he cares for most if he cannot even trust himself?
Aerith Gainsborough brought me out of fic writing retirement. You ever been down so bad that you got in touch with your inner child, your first dreams and aspirations, and a craft you've long left on the shelf? I have, and it got about 2.8k words and a long afternoon outta me.
Be kind, it's been a long time for this old boy.
Read on AO3 here. Snippet beneath the read more.
Gongaga nights were humid, the dense kind of humidity that clings to however much exposed skin it can find, and sleeping in it was no easy task. However, up above the trees standing at the top of a mostly ruined observation tower, Cloud was breathing in the crisp breeze and gazing up at the stars.
“It’s not so different from Nibelheim.” He recalled kicking his feet off the edge of the water tower, looking through the window of the cute girl next door and then desperately trying to look anywhere but there to avoid being weird. That was so long ago, but nowadays he felt more in touch with the awkward, silent kid than a seasoned SOLDIER.
Even with Tifa’s forgiveness for what happened at the reactor, Cloud couldn’t find enough quiet in his mind to rest. He was anxious. How in the hell was anyone supposed to trust him if he couldn’t trust himself? Despite their party growing stronger and more determined than ever, the war waging on in his mind was one he had to fight alone. The migraines, the memories, the uneasy feeling lingering in his chest any time they encounter another one of the robed men. If he shared his concerns, those little moments where he lost himself, there was no chance they’d keep him around. Barret wouldn’t let anything put his mission to save the planet at risk, not when Marlene was back home waiting to live a long happy life on a planet that hasn’t been sucked dry of its essence.
There was a pounding in his chest, a part of him that shouted that his honor wouldn’t let him fail those he cared about the most. So why did it feel so right killing those Shinra bastards? Why did his blade flow so effortlessly as he danced through them like the evening breeze?
Why did he love the warmth of their blood on his cheeks?
You know why, Cloud…
“Shut up.” Cloud lifted the Buster Sword from his back and held it upright before him, staring at the hilt as his hands gripped it tight. His knuckles cracked as the leatherbound hilt groaned in his palms. This blade was held in this position many times before to remind the wielder of his honor as a SOLDIER, but those days were long past.
You can’t deny it forever. They’ll understand. They already know. You don’t belong with them…
Tighter. Cloud’s muscles tensed as his eyes shut tight, begging for this creative imagination of his to let him see his hands wrapped around Sephiroth’s throat.
You will fail them again…
Cloud’s chest heaved with raspy breaths, as if it were his own throat he was clutching. Squeezing. Tighter. Tighter goddammit. He wanted to feel the grip of the sword snap in two. He wanted something to break. Anything. Everything.
Then, silence.
Gentle hands rest on top of his, joining him in holding the sword, now wrapped in a warm embrace from behind. There was no breeze, no wildlife, and no voice in his head.
There was only Aerith.
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FINAL FANTASY VII REBIRTH
"We were his prisoners. Me and my mom--Ifalna. He kidnapped us because she was a Cetra-- a "specimen" for his experiments. And after what he did to her… After all the pain and the horror he put us through… I hate him."
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Mood board for my upcoming clerith fic called "He was a punk, she did ballet."
It's Ballerina Aerith x Punk Cloud
@kpoplovermjm , @dansantcaparet , @blankbeat , @thelovelywarriorsheart , @n-0-m
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"This time, know that I'll take your hand, and never let you go."
Thank you to Soso for great artwork! Commissioned by Me.
https://x.com/life_soso_art/status/1742925480716820957?s=20
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