Tifa Lockhart

"Tifa Lockhart," you say, the name rolling off your tongue. “From Final Fantasy VII.”

The smug genie pauses mid-air. His eyebrows rise.

“Good choice,” he nods approvingly. “The Italian senate would agree.”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he grins. “Just for the record though, you’ll be cucking Cloud Strife. You know, the hero of the game. The brooding spiky-haired MC with the Buster Sword. Are you really gonna cuck such a nice kid?”

You give a slow, solemn nod. “For Tifa, I would cuck him all day, any day!”

“Based.” The genie snaps his fingers, and the room rumbles. The air shimmers like heat haze, reality pulsing like it’s about to give birth to something impossible.

“I will now summon Tifa Lockhart to your room,” he says, voice suddenly echoing like thunder across worlds. “She will instantly fall in love with you, because fate has been rewritten. In this new timeline, you are her destined soulmate.”

Your throat dries up.

“So… she’s gonna be my girlfriend?” you ask.

“Girlfriend?” the genie chuckles darkly. “Try wife. Try mother of your children. She’ll love you so hard it’ll put every hentai anime to shame.”

You stare at him, completely still.

“Oh, and just for the record,” the genie adds, raising one brow, “your dick’s gonna feel like the best dick ever to her. If she breaks it from going too hard, too often… don’t sue me.”

Getting your dick broken having too much sex with Tifa Lockhart?

You inhale deeply. “Deal.”

The moment you say it, the lights flicker. There’s a deep hum, a vibration you feel in your bones. The air tears open with a slow, spiraling ripple, like someone carving a hole in reality itself.

And then...

She’s there.

Standing in the center of your room. Her eyes wide, deep mahogany orbs brimming with warmth and softness. Her long, dark hair sways behind her as if caught in a breeze that only she can feel. She’s exactly as you remember her: red gloves, white tank top, black mini skirt, and a smile that could melt Midgar’s steel.

“Tifa…?” you breathe.

She turns toward you, and in that instant, it happens.

Her eyes lock with yours. And the world falls away.

Everything, the peeling walls, the broken fan, even the smug genie, blurs into irrelevance. There’s just her. And you. And the spark of something ancient and cosmic pulling you together like gravitational collapse.

She walks forward slowly, dreamlike. Kneels in front of you, her hands trembling as they gently touch yours.

“You…” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “It’s you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You don’t even know how to respond. You can’t. Her presence is overwhelming. Warm. Radiant. Real.

She launches into a hug, arms wrapping tightly around your neck, face buried in your shoulder. She smells like flowers and leather and victory.

“I don’t know how,” she whispers, “but I know you’re the one. My heart feels… full. Like it’s finally home.”

You feel her heartbeat against your chest.

It’s real.

She’s real.

And she’s yours.

Behind her, the genie floats backward, arms crossed and looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Welp,” he says, “my job here is done. Good luck with your new waifu. You’re gonna need… hydration.”

And with a pop, he’s gone.

Just you and Tifa now.

She leans back, looking into your eyes. “What should we do now?” she asks softly, cheeks flushed.

You look at her and then your bed.

You already know the answer.