#ff7 shifting

[eightb-all]

Scripting a character from another series in your DR is so fun, like yes my best friend in my Dragon Ball DR is Yuffie from FF7, what about it??

[silvergreenseraphim]

Baby Seph has quite the hair-vent bangs here 😅😅

His eyes are curiously drawn green too.

[demialwrites]

Broken Toy

I'm annoyed that I lost the previous Sephiroth non-con I wrote. I'm pleased that I came up with another idea. Turk!Reader gets toyed with under the cut.

You were assigned to be President Rufus's bodyguard for the evening at some banquet. The details of why it was being held were unimportant. The president seemed annoyed that he had to go. That made you briefly curious, especially after he seemed to enjoy his inauguration so much.

“No trouble is expected but I thought it was prudent to send someone because of the recent assassination attempt,” Tseng explained.

President Rufus seemed even more annoyed at needing a babysitter but added nothing. He wasn't the type to take it out on his subordinates, anyway.

You chose to wear a short, strappy dress in a light fabric and classy colour. The straps allowed your arms to move. The waist was tight and the skirt flared out, ending at mid-thigh, giving your legs freedom. You made sure to wear thin shorts hidden underneath, with a pocket for your phone. A nice balance of pretty and practical. You weren't going to embarrass the president with your choice and would fade into the background nicely behind him.

“I didn't want to bring you and I know you didn't want to come,” the president told you on the night in question. “Let's make this as painless as possible, shall we?”

He said that with a smile but you could tell there was an order hidden in there for you to loosen up.

“Yes, Sir.”

He seemed pleased with that answer. You arrived to the event on his arm but anyone in the know knew you weren't exactly a “date.” He didn't give any specific instructions because you were trusted to know how to behave. In other words, just stand there and be observant. Be a pretty deterrent.

Scarlet was overdressed in comparison, which was to be expected. She wore red, again, but this time with more ruffles and sequins. It wasn't an ugly dress but it looked like she was competing in a competition no one else entered. You blended right in, as long as you didn't stand beside her. Not that you were going to.

Everyone sat for the speeches. The speeches. You rolled your eyes when you thought no one was looking. You took your place, standing at Rufus’s side, while he waited his turn to give his own. He was speaking dead last so it was going to be ages. You scanned the room but everyone remained obediently in their seats. No threats. But rather than get too comfortable, you continued to scan the room every once in a while. It was a way to tune out the shallow Shinra circle-jerk on stage. As much as being out in the field was dirty, and the choices you had to make were hard, it was more comfortable than this.

You spotted what might be a welcome distraction. A field assignment might have wandered in and you felt like it showed up just for you. In the hall, after catering staff swung the door open and closed, something resembling a black robe’s bottom hem disappeared off to the left.

You placed a hand lightly on the president’s shoulder. He turned his head. You leaned in close.

“I see a black robe out in the hallway.”

He glanced across at the room full of people. He frowned. “Find out what it's doing here. Do it quietly. Take care of it before the night is over.”

“Yes, Sir.” You bowed.

“Take care of it” meant “eliminate the target if necessary.” Either way, you were relieved to leave that room full of self-important people. Rufus, you could handle. A whole room of people you had to be polite to, you could not. Not without being absolutely exhausted halfway through the night.

The black hem disappeared around the corner. It didn't quite resemble what you'd seen of the black robes. It did enough to warrant an investigation. You followed around the corner and the scene repeated itself. This time, the black hem disappeared around the corner into the women's washroom. You paused, then realized it was absurd to wonder if the black robe knew where they were going. Needing to get to the bottom of this, you went into the washroom.

It was as expensive as you expected. Every surface was clean, cream-white, and so shiny that you could see yourself in the floor’s reflection. Thankfully, the stalls went down until an inch off the floor. There was even tile cut into the shapes that make up the Shinra logo set in the walls, framing the mirror. The only thing you didn't like was that someone installed those impractical sinks you sometimes see in restaurants trying to put on a fancy façade.

The speeches were still going so the bathroom was empty of attendees. But it was too quiet. The distant, dull murmur of whoever was giving the current speech had faded away at one point. That made no sense, which should have been a warning sign. But your Turk pride didn't let that stop you from starting to open the stall doors one-by-one. Your low heels scuffing on the floor was still the only sound as you found each one empty. You got to the handicap stall, expecting a dramatic finish. You swung it too hard, the dull bong of its impact making you flinch. The creepy situation was starting to get to you.

“Behind you,” said a deep, male voice.

You whipped around, sneering defensively.

You've never met this man, however, you recognized the former SOLDIER, Sephiroth, immediately. You've seen still shots from camera feeds, posters, and illustrations, but you’ve never heard the man's real voice. You would like to think his voice would sound comforting if it wasn’t for the context. He was also as terrifyingly tall as they say. He's holding his signature sword and smiling, too nicely, at you. What he wanted with that smile and why he was here, it couldn't be good for you.

He glanced down at your dress with cat-like eyes and back up to your face. “Aren't you beautiful?”

“No,” you denied immediately. Panicking. No one calls someone beautiful while advancing on them with a giant sword.

He merely chuckled at your attitude. “You're too hard on yourself.”

“What do you want?” you demanded of him, eyes darting to the door behind him. “Back off.”

You're not sure what your plan was. You talked big but in reality, you were just a scared woman trapped in a bathroom with a big, strong murderer. You had speed but so did he, according to the legends. Legends that also said he was supposed to be dead. He was blocking your escape through the door so you did what you could only do. You dashed into the handicap stall and slammed the door–and lock–shut. After a second of thought, you flattened your back to the wall, expecting a long sword to stab through the door.

Undeterred in the slightest, he easily sliced through the lock and pushed the door open.

“That's cute. I like you,” he said, flashing you a smirk, as if commenting on a cute mouse trying its darndest to escape. Even if he meant his words to sound nice, it sounded like a hungry wolf talking down to a frightened rabbit instead.

He turned back to the door to use his sword to barricade it shut. Without enough of a gap under the stalls to slide under, you were trapped in here with him.

You eyed him as he slowly took the remaining steps towards you. He grabbed your shoulders and squeezed. Not too hard, just enough to show that you wouldn't be able to move an inch. And you did try. To your shock, he went in for a kiss. Now that he was here, this close, you froze up. He pulled back and thumbed your chin affectionately, as if to reassure you. Maybe he doesn't want much more, you desperately lied to yourself.

Of course that wasn't true. This time he went in for a bite to your neck. You squealed for the first bite, immediately clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any subsequent sounds because he continued to bite. One of his thickly gloved hands travelled down your front, gently squeezing each breast they went. Each touch sent a pleasurable lightning strike to the core of you. You cursed your thin dress. The free hand left your breast to pull one of your straps down to bite in that very spot previously covered by the strap. He suddenly yanked on that strap, tearing the dress halfway down the front and back. His teeth left marks. So many marks. He left you resembling a cheetah on your upper half.

You thought he was going to tear your bra next. Instead, he pushed it up, creating overflowing soft flesh. He grinned and bit you there, too. He sucked and glanced up at you with a lazy predatory gaze. A cat holding a toy in his mouth. When he was satisfied, he let the bra fall back into place, leaving another mark behind. You blushed, grateful that at least this one would be easier to hide.

Your phone started vibrating in the small pocket in your shorts. Sephiroth found it immediately. He glanced at the caller ID and then held it up for you to see. ‘Rufus Shinra,’ it read.

“Think he's worried?” he asked in a mocking tone that was real this time.

“Maybe. Maybe you should let me go.” You tried to put venom into your voice but it was looking like you might as well give up at this point.

“So cute. I'm not done with you.”

Sephiroth let the phone drop to the floor. It bounced once and landed face-up. The screen splintered but remained lit.

“They're looking for you so we'll have to cut this short. Heh, speaking of…”

Being pleased with his little joke made his smirk break into a creepy smile. He temporarily slid his sword from the stall walls and carefully cut your shorts. You held your breath and tried so hard to stay still that you trembled. Never in a million years were you moving with that thing so close to your skin. Next, Sephiroth pinned one of your shoulders to the wall with a palm. He undid his belt. It landed buckle-first on the floor. Then he opened his black coat. He groaned in relief while unzipping his leather pants. A large, dark spot had formed in his black underwear over an obvious bulge. He pushed those down and his cock sprang out.

It looked like it had been waiting, full, mauve in colour, and smeared with precum all around the head. It was, unfortunately for you, proportionate to the rest of him.

You looked at it, then his face, the expression which had not changed much all night. “Just get it over with.”

He slowly leaned in, eyes boring into yours. You expected retaliation. He picked you up by your thighs like you weighed nothing and weaved your legs around his waist. You gripped his arms for balance and in a sort of misplaced panic. What you didn't expect next was for him to blur. His image split in two, then quickly reformed. The new image was President Rufus. It was still Sephiroth's expression, though. It didn't look quite right.

“Maybe you'd like this instead?”

Hearing your boss’s voice say that while Sephiroth pumped his–or Rufus’s–cock with his fist, made you dizzy. He didn't seem to be considering anything you wanted, just what he thought you wanted. Him thinking you wanted anything at all from him was out of left field in the first place. Or maybe he was still mocking you and had been all along. It was tiring and thinking about this psycho’s intentions was getting you nowhere. He was already pressing the tip of Rufus's length to your entrance. This was not something you wanted burned into your mind and could bear to see every time you saw the real Rufus. Not without your face heating up to dangerous temperatures, anyway.

You covered your eyes and firmly patted his shoulder. “No, stop. Change back.”

“What, you don't want to sleep your boss?”

You took your hand from your face because you heard his original voice. It was a trick. He split again, this time reforming as Director Reeve.

“I never had a problem with this one,” Sephiroth/Reeve said, eyes narrowed in a pleased manner.

You let Sephiroth's strange way of describing him slip past you. You only met Director Reeve once. He was nice. A little high-strung, but otherwise normal. You didn't want your impression of him ruined by Sephiroth's twisted game. You stiffened and beat his shoulders.

“Change back,” you insisted.

The phone started vibrating again. This time the screen read ‘Tseng.’

“Don't,” you said to Reeve's face.

Sephiroth split and reformed again. With his real face, he laughed at you. “I wasted too much time, didn't I?” Fear made your neck and arm hair stand up. He was having fun. You didn't have much time with that fear because he was pushing in.

“Ow,” you whined.

“You got this.”

“Shut up,” you said weakly.

“I can make this harder,” he said.

Despite that, he did not get any rougher. Nor did he get especially violent. He didn't need to. You couldn't go anywhere. The tiled wall was no longer cold and it was damp with your sweat.

He started to fuck up into you, getting painfully deeper with each thrust. You started to wonder why he needed to go this far. Why you hadn't just been killed.

“Why me?” you finally had the courage to ask.

“You? You remind me of someone.”

Thoughts of what exactly that meant and who it could have been swirled in your head until you got a little nauseous.

Sephiroth decided to take his time with a steady pace. He leaned close, treating you to groans and soft gasps right in your ear. You briefly considered covering his mouth. But this psycho would probably start sucking on your fingers for all you knew. A faint echo in the large bathroom made it harder to tune all the noises out.

The loudest groan yet finally signaled the end of this, or so you hoped. He panted as he cock filled you in long spurts. It filled you until his semen tickled as a couple of globs dripped from your skin to the floor. He must have been pleased with how things went because he kissed you behind the ear. Like a cherished lover. His next words renewed your panic.

“Why haven't you finished?” he asked, pushing your legs down and allowing you to stand again.

You landed shakily. His expression was expectant so words just came out of your mouth. “Well, umm-”

You couldn't believe it. You almost gave him some excuses about having trouble finishing and…as if your Turk pride wasn't hurt enough by being caught here and played with by the enemy.

He split in two again. You had reached your limit with his nonsense. You shut your eyes tightly. Silence. You waited for more teasing or another colleague's voice. Nothing came so you dared to open your eyes. Sephiroth, and his sword, were gone. He tricked you again.

In case it was part of some new game to return and play with you some more, you fled the bathroom. Because of the state of your clothes and body, you avoided the banquet room where you come from. There was a hallway behind it near what looked to be mop closets and a staff washroom. You leaned against the wall and pulled out your broken phone. The poor thing, you thought. You felt a kinship with it, both of you have been broken tonight. Most of the missed calls had been from President Rufus so you called him first.

“When you didn't report back, I had to evacuate everyone. What happened in there?”

He sounded unhappy. It threatened to break the thin façade of professionalism you were struggling to maintain.

“U-um.”

He didn't press the matter immediately and seemed to be considering your shaky reply. You heard Director Heidegger’s voice in the background. The president told him dismissively that everything was under control then continued your conversation. “Where are you?”

“...a back hallway. Behind the banquet hall.”

“Alright. Stay there,” he ordered.

The president found you crouched there in the hall, trying to wrap the remnants of your ripped dress around you and painfully fully aware that you're still covered in bite marks. You kept your thighs clamped shut, hoping no one would notice your nudity there. You felt his stare but also a gratitude for the distance borne from the professionalism of your work relationship. Even if he did dare to ask what happened, you wouldn't be answering tonight. He thankfully called Tseng instead.

“Send Rude to take her home. She's…”

“Had a scuffle with Sephiroth in the bathroom,” you filled in loudly, glossing over what happened with an acceptable lie.

There was a pause and you thought he might question what you said, but didn't. “...right. You heard that, I assume?” he said to Tseng.

President Rufus kept Tseng on the line, speaking in serious tones. At one point, he dropped his coat onto your shoulders, startling you. You hurriedly pushed the buttons through the holes to close the coat, your fingers stumbling a few times. A few stragglers were filing past. You turned to face the wall, head bent down to avoid any eye contact.

[sarellathesphinx]

Constantly torn between genuinely loving the remake timeline’s depiction of Reeve and Cait and being immensely sad that pretty much all of my favorite lines of theirs from the original were totally excised or bc of plot developments will never be said

[spiritgriffon]

Well well well. After a (moderately) excessive amount of staring, I can now say with 99.8% certainty that:

Vincent's hair is not tucked into his collar, he does in fact have a new hairstyle! For comparison:

(oh and inb4 anyone says it's his Turk hairstyle, no it isn't)

(It might be the hairstyle he gets in part 3, but it's significantly longer on the (our) left and seems to be less choppy/spiky on the right than the one he's had up to now)

[dark-elf-writes]

asdklajlka given his name it'd be hilarious if cloud was anything BUT a cloud and ppl who first meet him just. ASSUME. to their regret.

i think sephiroth could make a good mist. gives off srs mukuro vibes

I could definitely see him as a sky which is doubly funny because for all that Sky attraction he’s still Cloud and incredibly socially awkward.

Oh yeah Mist Seph would make sense.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #98

Therapy today was rather enlightening.

Up until now, one of the notions that I used to carry was that "sometimes having your back up against a wall is good medicine, because, properly wielded, it forces you to get out of your own damn way."

…So, practically speaking, for example, if you're normally a meek person who doesn't wanna hurt people and cowers in the face of a threat, then being in a dangerous situation can bring out a certain, "clock them over the fucking head with a blunt, heavy object" out of you that you previously didn't know you had (long story; not gonna get into it, but nobody died or was seriously hurt, so don't worry).

To my knowledge up until this point, being in a "do or die" type of situation can give a person the "oomph" they need to do whatever it takes to get out of their own damn way, to change a longstanding behavioral pattern, or to let go of things that are destroying them. And in one way or another, I've been in situations where I've used this framework to do all sorts of things that I thought were impossible previously - for example, finally cutting ties with an abusive relationship with someone named S, the thing with the blunt object in the previous paragraph, and… perhaps this won't seem like a big deal, but… going to therapy. All of these things were things that I was terrified of doing for one reason or another, but failure to do all these things would result in CONSEQUENCES, so then you do them, and then you realize that you're strong enough to do difficult, terrifying things, and then those things become less difficult and terrifying.

And ya know? I lived most of my life either being in situations that felt like "do-or-die", or watching others be in situations that felt like "do-or-die", and until today, I guess I simply took it at face value as though it is the fundamental way of things, without so much as a second thought - you want an excuse to get over your own destructive shit really fast? Then get into a situation where there's no other viable choice. Or so I thought.

But today, my therapist pointed out that no one should ever have to be put in a "do-or-die" situation in the first place. And that notion motivated me to take pause; it was unfamiliar, so I listened.

He cited people who are self-medicating with various substances as an example. Addiction is borne from trauma, not from moral failure. So the person using substances is, in the absence of other resources that feel safe, doing what they can to drown out the horrors in their head long enough to make their existence feel less painful, at least temporarily. Unfortunately, a lot of the behaviors associated with self-medication end up hurting both the person doing it and the people around them, and so interventions are sometimes held, where the person is COMPELLED to do the thing, and… in my therapist's experience, this is usually less helpful than simply being all like…

"Hey, cool, you wanna go self-medicate like that - it's allowed. But I don't feel safe around you when you do that, and I don't like the things you end up doing to me in service to continuing to do that, and so I will protect myself by creating distance between myself and you." …And that's a LOT different from "go get help or else." The first thing in quotes gives the person a choice. The second is a rejection and a threat. Rejection is disempowering, and people ALWAYS do better with choices than with threats.

There's a situation in my social circle right now in which my initial assessment of what must be done in order for everyone to be safe was somewhat callous - reflective of the harsh, fear-based lens of the old life that I lived. "Perhaps the potential of ending up [insert unpleasant situation here] will prompt them to re-evaluate their priorities," (essentially, "do-or-die") as a concept, is not reflective of the kind of person I want to be. So I'm going to have to reevaluate my thinking and choose a more loving alternative - one closer to, "You can [very unsafe behaviors], but you will then have to find somewhere else to live because [very unsafe behaviors] are not conducive to my safety or wellbeing, and I must protect myself. If you must continue [very unsafe behaviors], then perhaps you can find a space to [very unsafe behaviors] elsewhere."

…The distinction between these things still feels subtle to me, but I can see how they are not the same, even if I'm still struggling to articulate how they differ. But that's merely a function of everything being very black-and-white within the old life I used to live; if I want to be able to lovingly move through this world, I have to be able to learn how to distinguish between more shades of grey. The prospect is both exciting and terrifying! I'll get better at it the more I practice.

The folks involved do not live in my house, but they do live in the house of a person who is close to me, and this person who is close to me is having a very hard time from it all. I do hope the situation can resolve amicably soon. I'll keep doing my best to be a source of support.

There's still so much that I don't know; I've gotta try a little harder, do a little better, and so… the temptation from my old life is to think that these things mean I am a bad person. But I think I will try to choose an interpretation closer to, "I am still learning and growing, and this means that I am alive." Not knowing everything means that I will never have any shortage of things to learn and do!

In any case. I am tired and cold, so I fixed myself up a big ol' glass of warm milk; it's a great way to chase both the chill from one's bones, and the restlessness from one's mind. I can't give you a glass, but I can share a picture. It's not fancy, but… here:

…I have finished this glass, and the restlessness is gone, but the chill is still in my bones. So I think I'm going to soak in a hot shower, and then go to sleep.

I will keep working on becoming a kinder and more loving person. I'll hope with everything in me that you will work on doing the same - both for yourself and for the people around you. You deserve your own love - regardless of how you came into being and regardless of the mistakes you've made before. Treat yourself like someone who is worthwhile so that you don't end up going for a number of consecutive days without food, water, or sleep ever again, because stuff like that is VERY UNSAFE BEHAVIOR.

I love you and I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[urguidingkey]

just so kh-only fans know, the final fantasy 7 remake trilogy is insane and also worth your time

[kiwasmessycorner]

Somone PLEASE share a Final Fantasy 7 remake shifting script (preferably on Notion) - I only found a single video who did one and they didn't share the link at all😭

[helladventurers]

Watching ff16 while i wait for the sleep meds to kick in, and it's such a bold move of square enix to move final fantasy into exclusively action oriented combat when they don't know shit about how to make good action gameplay

[eightb-all]

Brb, shifting to FF7R so I can teach Yuffie to mew

[prayerith]

square enix i’m begging you to remaster the ffxiii series and make it playable on modern systems

you’ve remastered nearly every other mainline final fantasy game. please. please. please

[shinynx]

This one is fun

[mismageus]

shadow time

[anusharao96]

Imagine them in the Hazbin Hotel setting

Sephiroth and Genesis in the afterlife (hell):

Genesis: So, let me get this straight.

Sephiroth: As if you could be straight.

Genesis: …

Sephiroth: …

Genesis: So anyway, you used the face of your own surrogate father-figure to torment Rufus Shinra after he shot said father-figure in the back, you stabbed Rufus’ father in the back as a possible form of poetic justice…

Sephiroth: :)

Genesis:….you called Rufus a bratty child with daddy issues, you scared the shit out of him, and you basically tricked him into starting a war, all for revenge???

Sephiroth: Correct. I also clapped dramatically when he discovered my ploy.

Genesis: That is the bitchiest thing I have ever heard of anyone doing. It rivals my level of pettiness.

Genesis:…

Genesis, crying: I’m so proud of you.

I don't know why I'm cackling at "*Sephiroth and Genesis in the afterlife (HELL)*"

[hollowingearth]

I'm sorry but the more I think about the Rebirth ending the more I love it actually like. The whole trilogy has been a meta commentary of sorts and, specially, Aerith's death is at the epicenter of it. She both dies and doesn't die exactly because us, as an audience, want both things to happen.

People have been clamoring to be able to save Aerith since 1997, there were fake hidden hacks, AU fictions, retellings, everything. Everyone has been at Squeenix's doorsteps begging them to let us save her. Like, it's at a point where the "Square will let us save Aerith if you pay for the DLC" joke is much more than a decade old.

On the other side, there's this very expressive unwant for any change whatsoever from the source material. It's not a feeling that is exclusive to FF7 either, there's this very clear pushback against any new remake/adaptation that deviates, even slightly, from it's original. People don't want new content, they want the old one they experienced when they were younger, but prettier, they want to both feel the nostalgia and experience everything as if for the first time again.

From that camp, I think the most prominent argument is that FF7 is about loss, right? And they're not wrong. Aerith's death is the crux of the story, it's the very thing that made FF7 as known as it is, there would be no actual weight to what it's trying to tell if the heroine doesn't die in the middle of it, an unexpected, hurtful, avoidable death. What's the point of a narrative about grief if you can just... avoid losing someone? Avoid having it be cruelly taken from you?

And yet, you see, if want someone to die, if you want something to be taken from you, are you really losing it? In the original, part of the impact was that no one could see it coming, it was a straight representation about how death is sudden and takes away opportunity from you. Aerith doesn't go into the sleeping forest willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, she has barely started her adventure, she makes a promise to go on the highwind, the group is one location away from finding out more about her ancestry and her family.

That's not true for the remake, tho. Everyone knows about her fate, about what is going to happen to her. That's probably the most spoiled moment in video game history. I personally knew about her death before I truly understood what Final Fantasy even was. So now we have an audience that is extremely aware of what, when and how her death is going to happen. That's why the Confluence of Worlds is put at that moment, because it's the single most expected moment in the entire triology, it's the one moment that made the narrative resonate so well.

The impact is impossible to recreate now, even for newer fans of the series. People want a 1:1 retranslation but such a thing would always be a gimmicky shadow of it's original. It's why the focus shifts, now the most emotionally impactful scene is not the killing of her but of her goodbye, in the church after the dream date. "Thank you," Aerith echoes "It's been fun", a callback to her conclusion on Remake where she says "I'm grateful for all the words we shared. All the moments and the memories. You've made me more happy than you know."

So she dies and she doesn't, both at the same time. Effectively in limbo now, narratively explained by lifestream shenaningans. We put her there ourselves, by refusing to move on, refusing to accept her death but also refusing to change, allowing a different outcome. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, at least, Aerith's words sound like the very sincere feelings of the developers, who are grateful for all the love we all have powered into their work all these years.

I just love it so much, I could spend hours talking about it.