Authors Note: Might edit later, might not. This is really All I imagined for this branch. Just a thematic TF, no real story.
"So, I'm a genie." You state while looking at your dainty bronze hand.
"A djinn." She corrects.
"A djinn." You repeat. "And this is part of the uniform?" You gesture down to the sheer fabric decorating your flawless body.
"I think it's... sort of a mix between both of our conceptions of the djinn." She played with her fingers nervously, but couldn't hide a mischievous smile.
You close your eyes, almost wincing as she says that. The two of you were sitting at your dining room table. You were slumped forward and your hand was on your forehead as you talked your way through this trying to catch up with everything that's happened. Your hair was spilled over your shoulders in luxuriant swoops, and draped across your face perfectly, accenting your beautiful despair. It was actually really annoying. You didn't like hair hanging in your face. You ran your fingers through the frictionless strands, pushing your hair back, but they shimmered and flowed into picturesque perfection again. If anything they hung in your face even more.
You finally ask, "So what exactly do you think of, when you think djinn?"
"Umm... desert Houris" She admits.
"Wait so you knowingly imagined girls when you did this to me?"
"They aren't necessarily girls. There's a lot of text that uses gender neutral terms and adjectives to describe them." Besides, your own thoughts played a role in how you look too, what do you think when you think djinn?"
You scowl as she leans in closer with a glint in her eye. You clear your throat and admit, "I guess Shantae... and Gerudo Link."
She snickers.
"Hey, this isn't funny! I'm stuck like this!" You cry.
"Well... Is that so bad?" She sighs. "I mean, you're really cute, and you ARE still... fully equipped right?" She raises her foot beneath the table and gently touches your inner thigh.
You blush in response as a rush causes your little guy to tent your harem pants ever so slightly.
She bites her lip and makes that tight small smile that always drives you crazy. She raises an eyebrow suggestively. "So what's the issue?" she asks. "You did already agree to be my familiar after all."
"Yeah, but I can't go out like this." You stammer. "Not unless it's Halloween."
"I'm pretty sure you can change your form and clothes." She states. "I mean, that only makes sense, right?"
"Pretty Sure." You snap. "And how do I do that?" You sit up, and your hair flows with your movement, no longer despondent and obscuring your face, but framing it to reflect your intensity. You tug aggressively on the ornate chest wrap and the cloth halter that connects to the loop on your neck that you now recognize to be a silver collar, like your armbands. Your clothing moves and shifts, but is otherwise undisturbed from its immaculate appearance.
"Djinn are super sexy, right? you've got to be able to take the clothes off somehow. You know. For things. Now stop complaining, ~~you're a super powered magical being. I'm pretty sure you can change your pants.~~
stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining stop complaining"
You gently bow your head. "My dearest apologies mistress," You say woefully, "To have displeased you at all is to my shame."
She blinked a few times. You remained bowed, shocked at your own actions, and just as shocked to find that you actually sort of believed it.
"Uhhh, yeah. It's fine, no worries." she pardons.
"You are most gracious to have made me this being of will and power." You clear your throat, sit back up straight and look away.
"Wow." She mutters.
"Wow." You parrot back flatly.
"Hey, let's go to my place. I've got a lot of research to do, and my library is back at home."
"Yeah, sure." You sigh. "I can't take these clothes off, but maybe I can put something on top of them."
"Hey, good idea." She smiles, as she rises, and starts to clean up the papers, and books that she used in her ritual, and slip it into her purse.
You closed your bedroom door behind you and growled loudly through your teeth. It was a shockingly arousing sound, but that was probably Ina's "Houri of Paradise" concept coming through. There was a full length mirror on the back of the door, and balling your fists, you summoned the will to turn and examine your.... Holy shit, you're gorgeous. It was actually shocking how beautiful you were. You were, "million dollar photo portfolio" gorgeous. Playboy bunnies looked plain compared to you. If Sabrina were bi, she would have been all over you... Or maybe she was bi, but just really good at hiding it? She did deliberately try to make you a Maiden of Paradise after all. Regardless, you could be some statue from antiquity, if antiquity knew what femboys were. You gulped. Yeah. femboy. You were still... definitely... maybe looked male? Your shoulders were still broader than your hips, at least a bit, and your musculature was just too defined. You'd have to be a pretty fit girl to have arms like that, but then... When you turned to the side, and tilted your head just right, it wasn't so clear.
Your makeup was throwing you off. You weren't sure how you felt about that, and stepped closer to the mirror to get a better look. You brushed your hair to the side, which immediately fell back into your face. You grumbled at the willful tresses, and hooked your bangs with your fingers and pulled them to the side.
Behind those midnight curtains, you saw sharp alluring eyebrows, with eyeshadow like the smoke of incense. Your eyes were sharp and slanted on top and round on bottom, with iris so dark as to seem black, giving you a gaze both intense, and languid. You had eyeliner, but it was heavier on your bottom eyelid, and tapered down at the outer edge of your eye. Your proud cheeks were complimented by a naturally dark blush, and your rich dark lips had no bow, but rather were two graceful lines with a thinner upper lip, and pouty bottom lip.
"Holy shit." You whispered, and your hand thoughtlessly went to brush your throat where you felt a notable absence of an adams apple.
You sighed. You grabbed a dirty towel from the laundry and started to rub your face, but to no avail. Not a smear or blemish disrupted your makeup. Scrambling to the bathroom, you put water on the cloth and rubbed more aggressively. There was a contrast between your gorgeous appearance and uncouth actions, but in the end, your appearance won out. The makeup remained. With a sigh, you opened the bathroom drawer and began to dig around the mess within, finally pulling out your prize. An old hair band. You abused your silky strands, grabbing a fistful of hair, and pulling the band tighter and tighter until your hair tied tightly back, but the moment you let go, the band slid down frictionless until your hair was in a loose ponytail, and once again those dark curtains framed your face, and hung annoyingly across your eyes and in your vision.
You growled again, and took a deep breath. Then another. And finally a third. You'd take care of this later.
