#sirwal

[majumapankonveksi]

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[thefty-o]

Arab uncle drains his nephew

Samir yawned and stretched as he got out of bed, his dusky olive skin contrasting against the crisp white of his cotton thobe. At 45, the Lebanese father of three was starting to feel his age. He caught a glimpse of himself in the ornate gilt-framed mirror and sighed. While he'd never been a large man, his formerly lean physique was starting to soften, his stomach rounding out above his sirwal and his arms losing their wiry tone.

"Yallah, I need to start exercising again," he muttered to himself, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.

As he headed to the bathroom, he nearly collided with a wall of tawny muscle. His nephew Tariq, who was staying with them for the summer, loomed in the doorway, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his morning prayers and calisthenics. The 20-year-old was an absolute Adonis, his tall, powerful frame packed with perfectly sculpted brawn, straining the seams of his sleeveless white thobe. His traditional red and white shemagh was slightly askew, untamed black curls peeking out, framing his striking aquiline features and smoldering dark eyes.

"Sabah al-khair, 'Ammu Samir," Tariq rumbled in his deep, resonant baritone, his voice rich with the musical cadence of Levantine Arabic. "You look like you could use some cardamom coffee to put some pep in your step, old man. I know your constitution isn't what it used to be."

Samir flushed, biting back a retort. "Shukran, but I think I can manage," he said stiffly. It was just good-natured ribbing, he told himself, even as he felt a pang of envy at Tariq's effortless virility. What he wouldn't give for a taste of that youthful power and vigor.

As he brushed past Tariq into the bathroom, their bare arms touched. Instantly, Samir felt a jolt of electricity crackle through him. He gasped, bracing himself against the marble sink as a wave of dizziness washed over him. In the mirror, he swore his reflection was... changing?

Before his eyes, the soft flab melted off his frame. His midsection tightened, hints of abs peeking through the gap in his thobe. His arms and legs regained the lean, wiry musculature of his youth, his biceps filling out the sleeves of his undershirt. His slouched shoulders straightened and broadened, his posture improving to project a newfound confidence. He looked robust, vital, like a man ten years younger.

Tariq suddenly shuddered in the mirror behind him and Samir startled. Was his nephew slouching? Samir could have sworn that he used to be eye level with the boy's plump pecs, but now he was staring right into their center.

"Mashallah, 'Ammu, looking good," Tariq said, clapping a massive paw on Samir's newly sturdy shoulder. "A few months training with me and inshallah, you'll be almost as big and strong as your nephew, eh?"

He threw Samir a wink and sauntered out, his sandaled feet nearly cracking the marble tile with each heavy step. Samir shook his head wryly. Tariq had always been a big boy - clearly took after his father's side. Perhaps with this newfound energy, he would take the young man up on his offer to get back in shape.

...

A few days later, Samir found himself in the makeshift gym in the garage, spotting Tariq as he benched a truly prodigious amount of weight, grunting Arabic encouragements. Tariq's performance was flagging slightly, his reps slower and more labored than last week. He was still monstrously strong, but perhaps not the utterly untouchable mountain of power he'd been before.

As they racked the weights and sat up, Tariq's sweaty arm brushed Samir's... and again, that electric jolt, that head rush. Samir watched in awe as his own arms seemed to swell before his eyes, his biceps and triceps growing, pulsing with vascular striations. His shoulders broadened, stretching his sweat-soaked sleeveless tee. Pectoral muscles barreled out above his tight six-pack, two brawny slabs of beef heaving with new mass.

It was as if he'd gained 20 lbs of muscle on the spot. He looked like he lifted seriously now, his frame dense with carved, powerful sinew and brawn. Tariq, on the other hand, while still unquestionably huge and imposing, seemed slightly... diminished. A little shorter, a tad less impossibly broad and thick. He looked more like the biggest, buffest guy at the mosque now rather than an avatar of masculine perfection.

"Wallahi, 'Ammu!" Tariq exclaimed, a note of surprise and something almost like unease creeping into his usually unflappably cocky tone. "What's your secret? I swear you get bigger by the day!"

Samir just smirked and flexed a bulging bicep, feeling a thrill as he watched his nephew's gaze widen with shock and awe at the size and definition. "Maybe you've been slacking on the halal meat, son," he teased. "Need to get more protein to maintain those gains."

Tariq just laughed, but there was a strained quality to it, his dark eyes flickering with an unsettled light. "We'll see, old man. Race you to the shisha lounge?"

He took off, and if his stride was a bit less than its usual loping, ground-devouring, leg-powered swagger, Samir didn't comment. He followed at an easier pace, enjoying the unfamiliar heft and solidity of his new, enhanced muscles. Something had shifted between them, and they could both feel it.

...

A week later, Samir woke up feeling like a new man. No, like a king, a titan, a conqueror of old. He practically bounded out of bed, 250 lbs of densely packed, heavily striated Arab muscle quivering and flexing with coiled power. He felt invincible, brimming with vitality, virility, and masculine energy straining to be unleashed.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and had to stifle a shout of triumphant joy. He was magnificent, his tall, heroically proportioned body an anatomy chart of musculature, all broad planes and deep cuts and hulking, vein-streaked brawn. His thobe had ridden up as he slept, exposing a mastodon cock throbbing half-mast against his deeply corrugated abs, a thick, wrist-thick pillar of pride and potency. His heavy balls churned visibly in their overstuffed sack, swollen with seed and the sacred essence of a true alpha.

"Allahu akbar," Samir breathed reverently. He was a living incarnation of the male ideal now, a pinnacle of strength and virility that surpassed any man he had ever known - including, he realized with a dark thrill, his nephew Tariq. He could feel it in his gigantic, steel-cable muscles, his raging monsoon of testosterone-fueled might - he was the dominant one now, the apex predator. Tariq had nothing on him anymore.

As if on cue, there was a tentative knock on the door. "'Ammu Samir?" came Tariq's voice, reedy and thin in contrast to the booming bass Samir remembered. "I, uh, I think there may have been a mixup with our clothes at the laundry. I seem to have shrunk out of a lot of mine somehow..."

"Faddal," Samir called, his voice a low, authoritative rumble that vibrated through his cavernous chest. Enter.

The boy who slunk through the door was barely recognizable as the swaggering erotic demigod of a few weeks ago. Oh, he was still handsome enough in a coltish, pretty boy way, with an athletic swimmer's build, but next to Samir's towering, mega-muscled hypermasculinity he looked downright scrawny. His eyes widened to saucers and his full lips parted in an audible gasp as he took in his uncle's massive, naked body, his gaze immediately drawn to the throbbing log of manflesh sitting heavily atop Samir's deeply ribbed washboard midsection.

"M-Maa shaa' Allah, 'Ammu," Tariq stammered, face flushed, a visible tenting rising in his loose sirwal. "You... what... I mean... Subhan Allah, you're enormous..."

"Alhamdulillah," Samir purred, flexing his planetoid biceps with a low growl of power, his pecs and lats flaring out even wider, his cock jumping and pulsing against his abs. "What's wrong, little one? Never seen a real man before? Intimidated to be in the presence of your true alpha uncle?"

Tariq made a small, choked noise, his eyes glazing over with lust and worship, his lithe body trembling. The boy was clearly in thrall to Samir's extreme muscularity, the raw sexual power and masculinity rolling off him in waves. He looked ready to fall to his knees and service his supreme elder on the spot.

"Don't worry, nephew. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with your new place," Samir rumbled, voice thick with sadistic amusement, reaching out to roughly palm Tariq's pretty face with one huge, calloused mitt. "Wallahi, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in. By the time I'm done with this little zakar of yours, you'll be my perfect little eromenos. The only thing that overactive aql of yours will be able to think about is worshipping your 'Ammu's ripped, massive body."

Slowly, almost tenderly, he pushed his thumb into Tariq's slack mouth, making the boy gag and sputter as he forced it in up to the knuckle.

"Shh, shh, just submitted," Samir crooned darkly as Tariq's eyes bulged and watered, weakly trying to pull away. "Salim and accept your place, little one. You're going to become very familiar with parts of 'Ammu much bigger than this."

And with his other hand, he reached down and grabbed the root of his titanically engorged manhood, slowly, almost lovingly smacking his nephew's spit-slick cheek with the girthy, vein-ravaged shaft.

"Mmm, such a pretty little face," he groaned, his voice a low Arabic growl. "Going to look even better stretched around my horse cock. Open up, 'azizi. Your new life as 'Ammu's sharmuta starts now."

And with that, he pulled his thumb out only to replace it with the blunt, leaking head of his inhumanly huge erection, groaning in pure alpha male bliss as he watched his nephew's throat visibly distend and bulge obscenely around his girth.

Oh yes, this was going to be very good indeed, Samir thought as he prepared to orally break in his new fuck toy. And it was only the beginning of Tariq's training to be the perfect submissive receptacle for his dominant alpha seed...

[superiorsturgeon]

Gerudo Pyrrha

Pyrrha: *hiking over desert dunes* We’re almost to the village where my extended family lives! I can’t wait to show you around!

Jaune: *dying in the heat* That…that sounds…pretty great, Pyr…! 🥵

Pyrrha: I’m going to show you all the best parts of town! There’s the cantina, the bazaar, the training yard, the spot where you can watch the sand seals playing…!

Jaune: *wipes sweat* I’m looking forward to taking a bath and changing clothes first…

Pyrrha: *pauses* Oh, right…speaking of clothes, there’s something I forgot to tell you about this town…

———————————————————————

Gerudo Guard: Vasaaq! It’s nice to see you again, Pyrrha!

Pyrrha: Sav’otta! I’m just in town for a visit!

Pyrrha: I brought a friend with me!

Gerudo Guard: A new visitor? Just so long as your friend is a Vai! You know the rules!

Pyrrha: Of course! Allow me to introduce my friend Jeanne! I’m excited to show her around!

Jaune: *disguised in a veil, sirwal, and breezy top that leaves his middle exposed*

Jaune: Sav…sav’aaq..! I’m Jeanne! Just a friendly girl, definitely not a disguised…uh…😅

Pyrrha: *whispers* Voe!

Jaune: Voe! Definitely not a voe…!

Gerudo Guard: 🤨

Jaune: 😣

Gerudo Guard: *steps aside* Enjoy your visit! 🙃

Pyrrha: *pulls “Jeanne” inside by the hand* Sarqso! 😇

[hydrangeatattoo]

Fake Resplendent Claude

I'd love an Askran attire for Legendary Claude, it's the most fitting version of him both in theme and aesthetic so I had a lot of fun designing it. I took the opportunity to change a few things I'm not too fond of in his original silhouette, lol (and also to put him in a sirwal).

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 26

(Chapter 25; Chapter 27)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

A String

You walk behind him, down the halls. Well, if you can call that walking. You try your best to keep yourself up on the muscles that just have been pounded into pudding. In the corner of your eyes, you see some girls working in the halls, cleaning and scrubbing and you wonder, when you have to start working here again.

What’s your purpose now anyway?

What am I to him? After all what happened? Especially today.

While your thoughts wander, you watch the muscles of his back move with every step he takes, listen to the soft tapping of his bare feet on the stone floor.

He’s probably going for a bath now.

Going past the corner that leads to your own room, your steps grow slower, unsure if you’re allowed to join him or not. You come to a halt in front of your door and watch him walk away. Without a word, he disappears behind the corner that leads to his chambers. Your breath is rather nervous, as the feeling of his presence grows smaller and smaller. The sound of his door sliding open reaches your ears and you turn around to open your own. Missing him already, with a heavy feeling in your stomach, you hesitate.

Wait.

The door was pushed open… but you didn’t hear him close it. You look around to check if nobody is there and start tiptoeing over the stone floor. Taking a peek around the corner, you see it.

He left it open!

You sneak into his chambers and close the door behind you. His stained sirwal was being tossed on the floor, the door to the garden is closed. The door leading to his other room and spring however, is opened.

You quietly follow through the opened doors he left for you. Before you turn past the door that leads outside to his spring, you listen. He’s humming again. You stay there for a while, behind the door, only listening to his voice. A cold breeze from outside flies in right next to you. Hearing Sukunas voice however, soothes your heart so much, lets you feel so warm. It would be one of the things of him you would miss the most if you two were separated. While you listen to him, you can’t wrap your head around what happened today.

First blinding the girl, then getting fucked on his throne. Riding him. Being called pretty… being touched by him… He seemed fascinated by you at times, as if he was memorising your whole being.

Watching you, touching you, feeling you.

Remembering those moments makes your heart ache. Your nails tap on the door you’ve been leaning on two times, before you step around to go outside. Sukunas humming stops quietly and you try to be as silent as possible.

Slowly walking along the path, you see him relaxing in the hot water, his head leaning against the rim of the spring. You fold your hands behind your back and start humming the melody, looking around like a child in a full bloomed garden.

Sukuna looks unbothered, keeping his eyes shut, as you approach him. You kneel down behind his head, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his left cheek.

“Why are you here?” he grumbles. You nudge against his ear shell with your nose.

“You left the doors open.” you whisper, before you lay down on the ground next to his face, watching him. “Shall I leave, my King?”

He opens his eyes and turns his face to you. Red orbs look softly into yours, before he gently shakes his head. Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He looks so dreamy.

Sukuna notices and with a smirk, his head turns back forward, closing his eyes again. You watch him for a while, admire his facial features, listening to the soft ripple of the water.

“My love.” you mouth inaudibly. Sukuna smacks his lips.

“Say it louder.” he grumbles.

“Say what?” you lie, a smirk spreading on your face. He opens his eyes again and turns back to you.

“Why do you like me so much today?” you continue, changing the topic. He frowns at you, his gaze growing annoyed.

“Who said that I like you?” he sneers, scratching at your self confidence.

A pout forms on your lips hearing his words, causing a mischievous smirk to spread on his lips, the wrinkles in his eyes making your heart flutter once again.

“The way you acted today said a lot.”

“Is that so?” an arrogance in his voice you didn’t hear in a while. You remember the last time he said the exact same thing to you and it made you weak.

So weak.

“Oh yes, my King! Even a blind person could see that you’re in love with me.” you say playfully, while rolling onto your back, now looking at him over your left shoulder.

A frown adds to his smirk, while his four eyes dance back and forth between the two of yours.

A pause.

A pause you didn’t expect and a pause you definitely did not expect to be so long.

He just keeps staring at you, with his beautiful eyes, making you flustered and you fight hard not to blush, trying not to turn your gaze away. Feeling the heat creeping up your face, you can’t bear it any longer.

“You called me pretty.” your voice is thin, almost asking, almost begging him to agree. A miserable attempt to escape this moment. Finally, he snorts in amusement.

“Slicing someone in three with a fling of my hand is a pretty sight, too. You forget that I’m not prone to mortal feelings.” he says, while closing his eyes and turning back forward again, tapping on the rim with his nails. “Especially not the pathetic kind.”

Ouch.

You quietly mock his face and turn away. A minute passes in which the both of you just listen to the surrounding atmosphere, both of you staying silent. You turn back to him and your stare fills with longing.

“How did it feel…” you repeat him in the softest voice you can form “…to be up there with me? On your throne?”

Sukuna sighs in annoyance. He leans forward, the soft splashing of water reaching your ears. Your eyes follow his motions, seeing the short hairs on the base of his neck being wet and dripping with water. Hypnotised, you roll over on your stomach, supporting yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him. He looks to you over his left shoulder, pondering for a second, watery pearls glistening on his muscular back and tattoos, before he turns around and moves closer to you. Averting your gaze, he leans to your ear, placing a warm, gentle kiss on your right cheek.

“I think we both answered that question already.” he whispers and without leaning back to see your reaction, he gets up and walks out of the water past you and back into his chambers.

You’re frozen. Still laying there on the ground. Your heart is racing fast, as you gently touch that spot on your cheek. The spot he kissed, his lips so soft and gentle. You look around, making sure he’s gone completely, before a synapse in your brain snaps, realising him saying “Divine” wasn’t just a repetition of what you said.

It was an answer to his own question.

Quickly you dunk your head underwater, screaming as loud as you can, the bubbles coming out of your mouth tickling the side of your face.

What’s happening?

You come up, panting and shaking your head. Not knowing how you’re going to explain your now wet hair to him, you get up and tap back into his chambers.

“Your hair is wet.” Sukuna remarks, looking at you in confusion, as soon as you enter his bedroom. He’s standing next to the door leading into the halls, taking a puff from his kiseru. You notice that he dressed himself in a clean sirwal. It looks exactly like the other one.

“I know.” you say breathlessly, walking past him and out of his room. Being in his vicinity is too exciting for you right now, you need to calm your mind.

Food!

You haven’t eaten properly in a long time and you might as well have something now. First, you go into your own chambers, the rice cakes that had been placed there are still there. You grab one and smell it.

Doesn’t smell too bad, but as soon as you take a bite, you realise that they indeed went bad. You spit it back out on the plate you found them on.

Gonna take care of that later.

Quickly you rub your hair dry with a cloth and make yourself presentable. Then you leave your room and walk up the halls into the direction of where the kitchen is. Eyes are glued on you while you walk down the halls and they feel heavier the longer you walk.

Finally you arrive at the kitchen, knocking gently, before you enter. As soon as you step in, everyone stops what they were doing.

Silence.

On the counter in front of you, a female body. Her head is missing. As well as her hands and parts of her thigh. Her left breast, too.

Raw. Bloody.

You swallow at the sight, before your eyes lift off the body in front of you.

It smells. Like copper.

Everyone stares at you, making you feel like a stranger. An intruder.

Without Sukuna by your side, you feel weak. The proud feeling from before fizzles out like the wood in the ovens. Luckily the bitch isn’t here, otherwise she probably would be attacking you with the next best knife right now. Nervously, you open your mouth to say something, but your vocal cords fail to play. The air weighs heavy in the room and a lump in your throat starts to grow, as well as the urge to run.

“You hungry?” a familiar voice says right next to you. You wince at being spoken to so suddenly, before you recognise who has spoken. It’s the maid who took care of you when you were sick.

With wet eyes, you exhale in relief and nod quickly. She nods to the rest of the maidens, advising them to keep doing their tasks.

“Sit down. When did you last eat?” she motions you to a small table in the corner. You hesitate, before you move there and sit on the floor right in front of it.

“A few days ago I think. I can’t really remember.” your voice is thin.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” she says while turning around to prepare a meal for you.

You nervously bite your lip while you wait, the sounds of the kitchen atmosphere being all too present in your ear. Especially the sounds of meat being chopped.

Chop!

CHOP!

Rip!

Clang!

The loud impact of a porcelain bowl being placed in front of you rips you back into reality. It’s a bowl of fresh rice and steamed vegetables.

“Here you go.” she says, sitting down right next to you.

“Thank you.” you say quietly, before you start eating.

The first bite sends your tastebuds into heaven. It feels so good to have a proper, healthy meal, warm and filling. You even taste a bit of the herb that Sukuna tried to eat in the woods and it makes you smile. Immediately, you feel your mood being brightened, the chopping sounds growing more quiet in your ear.

“I love it, thank you!” you tell her, making her smile. “You should prepare this kind of food for Master Sukuna as well, or at least use the same kind of herbs. I think he’d like it.”

She cocks her eyebrow at you.

“Uhuh…” she hums in disbelief.

You grow quiet again, thinking you said something that went too far after what was happening today.

“You sure? That man is so picky!” another maiden exclaims behind you.

“He is. Once the tray came back with a bloody note.” another one complains. You listen in surprise.

“What was it again?” the other one asks.

“A roasted pumpkin smashed by his fist.”

You snort loudly, as well as the other maidens and you share a moment of laughter. Feeling like a weight gets lifted off your shoulders, you keep munching on your food. Some minutes pass and everyone seems to dive back into their tasks, the maid who brought you the food, still sitting right next to you.

“Is it…?“ you motion your eyes to the body on the counter.

“The new girl? No.“ she answers. “I think death would be a relief for her now.“

“THE KING BROUGHT YOU BACK!” another familiar voice enters the room and interrupts your conversation. A voice you’re not happy to hear. “What a rare occasion! How is it to be back home, Princess?” the bitch hisses at your cheek, grabbing your shoulders from behind, caging you. Some giggling from the other maids is to be heard, making the new gained feeling of safety crumble in their voices.

You don’t know how she knows about Sukunas nickname for you or if it’s just coincidence. You just know you need to get out of there fast.

“I was so happy to hear you fled, even happier to hear he went after you, thinking he’s gonna end you. But apparently I was wrong. I bet you begged and sucked his dicks real good for him to bring you back instead of killing you, huh? Like the little slut you are. ”

Distress crawls into your face, before you look at the maiden right next to you. She looks somewhat annoyed and slaps the bitch on her arm.

“Come on, let her go. You still have some tasks left.” she says.

The bitch hisses in annoyance and flicks her index finger against your left temple, before she lets go of your shoulders.

You throw the maid a thankful glance, before you get up and make your way to the door without looking at any of them.

Who can I trust?

It’s not like you ever had friends here, nor fully trusted anyone. However, the maid who was in charge of taking care of you when you were sick is the person you would have trusted the most here. Uraume on the other hand, who seems to be on Sukunas side and Sukunas side only, no matter how he treats anyone here, seems to be the most trustworthy at the moment.

With tears in your eyes, you rush back down the halls, feeling as alone as ever. It grew dark outside already and instead of snowing, rain is prickling on the surfaces of the plants and stones in the garden. A storm is coming. Tapping fast on the stone floor, you halt in front of Sukunas chambers.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

No answer. Like usual.

You enter his chambers, seeing him casually sitting on his bed, still smoking his kiseru. He’s leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. The door to the garden is opened, an uneasy atmosphere fills the room. Without turning his head to you, he quietly watches you, as you enter the room.

Shit.

You sigh and step forward, after you notice the pissed look on his face. It doesn’t help your already sad mood. Stepping in front of him, you lower your gaze and kneel down, his eyes following you. Not saying a word. Neither of you.

Just now you notice that he’s wearing his black tabi socks and sandals.

The hiss of tobacco burning.

The smell of it.

The weight of his four eyes on you.

“Are you angry with me?” you whisper, not bearing the silence anymore. He exhales some smoke.

“You left these chambers without permission.” he grumbles. You blink.

“I apologise, my King. Deeply.” you say sincerely, although you don’t understand his sudden demand of subservience when you’ve been acting so freely around him recently.

A puff.

A rumbling from the clouds.

“I wish I wouldn’t have left.” you mumble. His fingers lift your chin up, your eyes meeting his through gray smoke.

“Me too.” his stare as cold as ice, almost as if in thought. Your hands reach out for the one on your chin. His skin feeling warm under yours.

“Pathetic.” he whispers, while grazing your lip with his thumb, watching it move so smoothly under his skin.

A lump in your throat.

A puff.

Smoke.

Between you and him.

“Punish me then.” you whisper into his eyes. His gaze turns soft, almost pitying you.

And you don’t understand.

A pause.

Suddenly, a knocking on the door and Uraume steps in. Unconsciously, you turn your head to them, Sukunas hand is swept off your chin, while his eyes keep lingering. With a thud the bottom of the staff of his trident hits the floor.

“It’s time to leave, Master Sukuna.” they say, bowing their head, offering his weapon to him.

What?

The colour falls from your skin, your throat dries out, as soon as you hear their words. In shock, you quickly turn your head back to Sukuna.

“Wha- Where?” you utter, as a shiver crawls up your neck.

He looks at you for a second, before he stands up, hands you the kiseru and walks in Uraumes direction.

“N-No! No No No!” you stand up and walk after him, letting the pipe fall to the floor. “What’s happening?”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps walking.

“Master Sukuna will keep his word as King and wage into war.” Uraumes voice echoes in your ear. The ground beneath you seems to drop under your feet.

War?

Your heart is about to stop.

The war.

The village.

The man.

With a racing heart, you remember. Face is going numb.

“Wha- Why now?” your voice is trembling. “There’s still time! It’s too early!”

Sukuna looks at you over his shoulder, his eyes looking intimidating.

“Stay.” you beg with watering eyes, reaching out for his upper left arm. Sukuna dodges your attempt and turns back, walking towards his door. Uraume follows him.

No!

“Sukuna!” you shout, making him stop in his door. He turns back around, locking eyes briefly with Uraume, motioning them outside. Uraume complies and Sukuna shuts the door between him and them.

Rough. With a bang.

You wince, growing scared as he walks back to you. His height so intimidating and you know he’s pissed even more now than before. You inhale, while he lowers his face down to you.

“Watch your fucking mouth!”

“What about the curse?”

You both say simultaneously. His eyes widen, while his face grows angry.

“How can you leave while not being able to let me go?” you continue, taking his face into your hands. “You tied yourself to me.” you breathe, while moving closer. “How will you bear it?”

Your eyes scream into his and his features start to tremble in anger, before he grabs you harshly by the neck, squeezing so hard you feel like you’re about to faint immediately. Gasping for air, your hands reach for the one on your neck. A second passes and with a growl, he yanks you away from him, unintentionally cutting you with his nail on your neck and you fall to the floor.

It bleeds.

He turns back around, leaving you there on the ground and opens the door.

“I don’t know.” he growls, before he slams the door shut behind him.

Asshole!

You‘re stunned. Unable to move for a second.

I can’t let him go.

The cut on your neck stings, as you hurry back on your feet, rushing out of the door. They are already gone. Your heart feels like its ripping apart, as you start running down the halls.

Rain is crashing down, thunder is blaring.

You run through the halls, to the main door of the shrine, the one you both entered just yesterday.

Just yesterday.

Don’t leave me.

Don’t leave me!

Your mind screams at Sukuna with tears in your eyes, while you climb the stairs as fast as you can. With your whole bodyweight you slam against the door and it falls open. You trip and almost fall down right in front of Uraumes feet. Looking up and past their figure, you see that they’re alone.

Behind them only the rain and the wind of the night crashing and dancing with each other in the light of the moon. Droplets of water hit your face as you stare into the darkness, your heart aching in your whole chest.

Unbearable.

Panting and with a dry throat, you can’t believe he’s gone. Without you.

Uraume starts pushing at your shoulder, wants you to walk back inside. You don’t comply.

“Why now?” you utter under your breath.

“Come on. Get inside.” they respond, a hint of care in their voice.

An incredible empty feeling starts to spread in your whole being. You try to see him in the dark, but there’s nothing.

He’s gone.

“Y/N.” they say softly.

Tears start rolling, before you turn around to walk back inside. The first steps down the stairs are hard. As soon as you start walking, something tugs at your heart. Like a string that’s connected to him. It tugs and tugs and tugs and you feel like your heart is going to be ripped out of your back. A pain so deep, a pain you’ve never felt before. Worse with every step. And you wonder if he feels like that, too. Wonder if your pain is so unbearable because of what you wished for two nights ago. Under the stars. When you accepted how you truly felt, when you hold his hand, when you couldn’t bring yourself to say what your heart so desperately wants to scream at him.

Wonder, if you have cursed him, too.

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Golden Sand

Princess Zelda of the Gerudo is the reincarnation of the Goddess of the Sand. Link of the Gerudo is the first Gerudo born in one hundred years after Ganondorf. On his eighteenth birthday, he is sent to Zelda to assess whether he is a threat. The consensus ?

He is a threat.

Read first chapter on AO3 here

Read previous chapter on AO3 here

Link was awoken at dawn. He had stayed in the servants’ quarters, presented with a lone room. It consisted of a bed, a dresser with a mirror, and a large armoire. There was a window above the bed, giving a view of the courtyard below. He had been given lunch and dinner, the guards not speaking a single word as they left the tray by the door. When the sun finally set, he sat at the edge of the bed, closing his eyes as a cool night breeze floated in through the window.

Now, pulled from his dreams, he remembered where he was. A guard was standing above him, a frown on her face. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The window showed that the sun was yet to rise, the sky dark but with faint traces of light beginning to creep in.

“Awake, voe. You are to serve the Queen at her ceremony this morning.”

“Ceremony?” he mumbled.

The guard sighed, exasperated.

“The Ritual of the Sand. Every incarnation of the Goddess of the Sand performs this ritual. It is how she communicates with her and receives guidance.”

Ritual of the Sand?

“Do I need a special costume?” he yawned.

The guard shook her head, taking a step back.

“No. Get dressed. I will wait for you in the hallway and escort you.”

Once she was gone, Link slipped out of bed. He stumbled into the adjacent washroom, splashing cold water on his face and going through his morning routine. When he returned, a fresh pair of clothing awaited him. He pulled on the emerald sirwal, opting to go shirtless as he ran a hand through his hair. Since there was some sort of ritual involved, he grabbed the veil and tied it behind his head.

The guard gave him a onceover, seemingly pleased.

“You wear the clothing well. Come.”

It was the nicest thing anyone had said to him since arriving at the palace.

The guard led him down the hallway, down a staircase and into what appeared to be the front hall. The sun was now peeking over the horizon, sending faint streams of sunlight through the windows. They went through the ornate front doors, crossing the courtyard and heading towards the desert.

“I understand you are gifted at riding horses.”

Confused, Link gave a slow nod.

“Er, yes. I excel at archery as well.”

They turned the corner, and Link was surprised to see they were approaching a stable. His heart leapt in his chest as he recognized Epona, eating an apple that a stable worker was handing to her.

“We sent word to your mother. She sent your belongings and urged your horse accompany you.”

Epona was excited to see him, letting out a snort as he approached. She nuzzled into his touch, which sent happiness through him.

“We are to cross the desert. I will lead.”

The desert was still cool, the sun halfway past the horizon. Link didn’t have to worry about the heat or shielding his eyes from the sun. He enjoyed the vast desert around him, marveling at how the sun appeared to make the sand golden. The sky above him was slowly transforming into a cloudless sapphire blue. He glanced ahead of him and took note of the Spirit Temple.

The first thing he noticed was the large statue above the entrance. It was of the Goddess of the Sand, her hands outstretched and placed delicately, palms up, on her lap. Her eyes, hollow but carved deep in her face, stared back blankly at him. Below her, the entrance to the Temple beckoned him. A small pond was to the right, surrounded by palm trees that provided shade. Beyond it, a small stable had been built, where a few horses already were.

After leaving Epona in the stable, Link followed the guard up the steps into the Temple. It was cool inside, lanterns hanging along the walls providing a soft light. In the middle of the room lay an altar, an opening directly above it casting sunlight. A few benches sat in front, where other guards sat talking amongst themselves. He was guided to the front, where the other guards regarded him with small nods.

“Sit here and wait.”

He sighed, doing as told and closing his eyes. It was still early and he was still sleepy, so he figured resting his eyes wouldn’t hurt. The quiet murmurs around him lulled him into a light sleep but he was jerked awake by the guard who had brought him in.

“Stand up!” she hissed. “The Queen approaches.”

Link shot up, blinking rapidly to try and wake himself up. To the right of him was a small door he had not noticed before. It slowly opened, revealing a group of Gerudos. They wore simple white dresses, very different from the traditional clothing they wore day to day. Each of them held a corner of a veil that they held up to cover Zelda.

She was dressed differently. Link’s eyes examined her figure, cocking his head to the side.

“She wears ritual clothing,” the guard murmured. “It is only to be worn for these ceremonies.”

Just like the other maidens, Zelda wore a long, white dress. It was sleeveless, the neckline high and wrapping around her neck. The Gerudo crest was emblazoned on the front, a stark contrast to the white background. The dress went down to her ankles, showcasing her bare feet. Her head was adorned with a veil instead of her crown. Link squinted his eyes, trying to see if he could distinguish her features. It was difficult to make out, but he could see faint flecks of what appeared to be gold around her eyes.

“She is beautiful, no?”

The guard was grinning at Link. He responded with a roll of his eyes.

The group of maidens walked slowly, making sure to keep the veil above her head as they kept pace with her. Zelda’s hands were clasped in prayer, her eyes fixed on the altar ahead of her. Link was fascinated by how the group walked in unison until they finally arrived. One of them clapped a hand, sending some sort of signal.

The wall behind the altar began to shake, slowly sliding away. Link’s mouth fell open as another statue of the Goddess of the Sand came into view. This statue was surrounded by columns on both sides, with lanterns hanging to provide some ethereal light. Just like the statue outside, Her hands were outstretched, with lanterns placed on each one. She sat cross-legged as a snake wrapped around Her figure, inching up Her waist before coming to hiss at Her face. The snake’s face was frozen in a hiss, sending shivers up Link’s spine. Her head wore some sort of crown, one that he had never seen before. He assumed it was one that had been worn years ago during the founding of the Gerudo.

The maidens finally lifted the veil, bowing their hands as they walked to the front row of benches. Zelda turned to face the statue, raising her hands in prayer before walking towards it. She stopped in front of the altar, the morning sunshine casting a soft glow over her.

“Let us begin.”

Link had heard about the Spirit Temple, but he had always been forbidden from visiting due to being the only male Gerudo. His mother often visited for holy events, draping a veil over her face and disappearing for hours. She often spoke about the grandeur of the ceremonies and the beauty of the temple’s architecture. He had been aware that the Queen was involved in some way, but his mother never specified.

Now, sitting in the temple, he felt fascinated. The quiet, dim atmosphere in the temple had him feeling spiritual, and a part of him felt at peace. He closed his eyes, relishing in the silence while Zelda prayed silently. The temple smelled faintly of incense, with a hint of . . . something slightly damp. It wasn’t unpleasant, per se, but it reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Despite that, Link still felt calm for the first time in the past few hours.

When he opened his eyes, he watched as Zelda gently lifted the veil from her face. Her hands were raised to mimic the statue’s hands. There was sand around her feet that Link hadn’t noticed before and it slowly began to swirl around her. He glanced around in panic, realizing that there wasn’t wind in the temple. It seemed to surround her, wrapping her lightly as the sand began to continue spinning.

“Goddess of the Sand,” Zelda chanted in Gerudo. “Please hear my prayers.”

Her voice seemed to resonate around the room, echoing in Link’s ears. The sand seemed to swirl faster, her voice getting louder.

“I offer my body and soul to you, O Goddess of the Sand. Please hear my prayer.”

Her head raised slightly, and it looked as if she was trying to look directly into the statue’s eyes.

“I pray for blessings. I ask that our people continue to be blessed with happiness and good health. I ask that the desert continues to bless us with what we need to survive and that it provides bountiful gifts.”

The sand was almost completely engulfing her. Link sat forward, tensing up as he watched Zelda carefully. The guard beside him gently placed a hand on his arm, pushing him back into his seat. She shook her head at him.

“I pray for abundance. I ask that our crops continue to grow and be strong, and that rain continues to provide water for us. I pray that our kingdom continues to flourish, and that our relations with others remain constant.”

The sand began to slow down as she began to slowly turn around. Link craned his neck to try and get a glimpse of her face. When her face came into view, he was stunned to see how focused she was. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, but it was what he noticed when her eyes came to flicker towards him.

Instead of their usual blue, they were a bright gold.

His heart came to a stop as she continued to stare at him, cocking her head slightly to the side. The sand suddenly stopped swirling, falling to the ground with a soft thud. The room was dead silent, no one daring to move. She slowly lifted a finger, pointed it towards Link. Her eyes seemed to glow brighter as she opened her mouth to speak.

“You, man of destiny.”

Her voice was different, too large for her body. It still carried the echo from earlier, seeming to fill up the entire room and floating there. Goosebumps rose on his skin as she stared back at Zelda in fear.

“Your destiny will soon appear.”

The gold faded from Zelda’s eyes, the familiar blue shade appearing again. She blinked rapidly, the color fading from her face as she began to sway. The maidens who had escorted her in were quickly by her side, grabbing on to her before she fell. The veil was once again draped over face as they gently dragged her out of the room. They disappeared through the door they had entered from, shutting it behind them.

“Voe.”

The guard was looking at him with wide eyes.

“The Goddess of the Sand has never addressed anyone besides the Queen. There must be a reason she chose to do so.”

She hummed in thought, rubbing her chin.

“Destiny does not appear to be so menacing. I wonder what destiny she speaks of?”

“Is the Queen alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Speaking with the Goddess takes a toll on her body and spirit. It is nothing fatal, do not fret.”

She smirked at him.

“I’m surprised you care after how she’s treated you.”

He flushed, standing up abruptly.

“Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

[writingseaslugs]

Scarabia: Halloween with Them

Jamil's part kinda ends a little suddenly, but I thought it was cute and fluffy, and no, you can't sue me on this one!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia (You’re Here) | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Halloween with Them

Theme: Costume Party

Just like any holiday or event, Scarabia was throwing a giant party due to the excitable house warden. You received a sealed envelope directly from Kalim a week before the party, so it was obvious that it would be extravagant. Normally his parties were planned either the day of or the day before. So having an entire week’s notice was something that was exciting.

Of course the day of the party, you should probably show up early if you want to avoid the crowd. Kalim had basically invited everyone to the costume party, and poor Jamil would no doubt be slaving away before everyone arrived.

You did have choices on what you wanted to do, though. See Kalim before the party swept him away from you, or check to make sure Jamil was able to get everything ready in time.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim bounded out into the hallway, decked in a skeleton Halloween outfit that left little to the imagination. He had a black pair of sirwal pants on that had white bones on it, a rib cage corset made of some silver material, and two bracelets wrapped around his entire hand and went over the first knuckles of his fingers that simulated bones on his hands. Of course, there were a few other jewelry embellishments on him, but overall he looked stunning. Even the sandals he wore wrapped around his feet and ankles like bones. It made you feel underdressed, but his eyes sparkled the moment he saw you.

“There you are!” Kalim said, running over and wrapping an arm around your own as he began dragging you around, “I got us matching costumes, but Jamil said I shouldn’t force you to wear it.” He said, and you looked over at his top was just bones and showed off most of his chest.

“Is it the same exact costume?” You asked, not knowing how you felt about your chest being on display for everyone. He might be comfortable with it, but it wasn’t something you were really thinking you’d be doing today.

“Oh, Jamil made sure the top was different. It looks like a ribcage, though! It just covers you more.” He explained, and you sighed in relief; well, some of your worries are gone. Still, the question was there.

“You wanna wear matching costumes?” You asked once you were finally dragged to his room. You looked over, and sure enough, there was a matching costume, but instead of just the rib cage corset made of silver bones, there was a black high-neck tank top that would be going under it to cover everything.

“Of course, I want us to be matching!” Kalim said before frowning, “Did you not want to?” and you quickly shook your head.

“No, I’d love to. Give me a few minutes to get dressed, though.” You said, and Kalim laughed as he left the room. The costume was easy to put on, and you could tell from the feel that it was definitely expensive. You made a mental note to make sure to return it in a timely fashion. Once you finished, you called out, and Kalim came bounding back in. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the fit on you.

“You look so good!” He praised as he looked all around, “Perfect! The part is gonna start now, and I wanna show you off, come on!” he said, grasping your hand and pulling you along. All you could do was laugh as he dragged you out of the room.

Jamil Viper

It wasn’t hard to find Jamil, despite all the Scarabia students bustling around to help prepare for the costume party. He was right where you’d expect him, preparing all the meals in the kitchen. His hair was tied up into a bun for the first time since you met him, which meant business. He was stressing away, trying to get everything cooked up when you cleared your throat. He wasn’t even in costume yet, which was saying something.

“Ah, prefect.” Jamil said once he finally took notice of you and smiled, “Do you mind handing me that pan behind you?” He said, and you turned to see right by your head some hanging pots. You grabbed the pan you thought he wanted and handed it over to him. “Thank you.” He said, putting it on the hot stove and going to toss some vegetables in there.

“Busy much?” You asked, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall. He looked like he was having a hard time keeping up, even with other students handling all the chopping. Still, to others, he probably looked just as composed as ever. You could tell from the way his jaw was clenched slightly and how he seemed a bit stiffer in his movements, though, that the stress was getting to him.

“We’re almost done making the food; if you could be so kind as to wait out in the dining area….” He trailed off, and he didn’t have you tell you twice. As much as you’d love to offer some help, you knew he’d turn you down. He might accept if there was still a lot to do, but he was at the tail end of things. You did as he said, sitting over in the dining hall and waiting. Ten minutes later, he strolled out, taking off his apron and tossing it at another student who seemed to be about ready to do laundry.

“Managed to finish everything with time to spare?” You asked, happy to see him visibly relax as he walked closer to you.

“Enough time to put on my costume…come on.” He said, motioning you to follow him. You hummed, wondering what it was he needed you for. Perhaps his costume would be hard to put on. You couldn’t help but silently hope that would be the case as you walked over to his room.

When you walked in, you noticed two similar costumes lying on his bed: "The one on the right is yours. You can get changed in here; I’ll go to the restroom to dress.” Jamil said, leaning over and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You couldn’t help the blush making its way to your face; they no doubt would be hot to the touch. Jamil smirked at seeing your flustered expression as he disappeared. You never knew what you’d be getting with Jamil…but moments like these were always something to cherish.

[aikoiya]

LoZ - Gerudo Misandry Is Not Funny Or Okay

I find it really damn odd that so few people talk about misandry when they bring up the Gerudo or the societal norms of other Amazon-esque races.

And even when they do, it seems to always be done with a tone of levity behind it.

As if it isn't every bit as terrible as misogyny.

As if their biological situations don't make men absolutely vital to the continued existence of their people & culture.

So, treating men as less than is as terrible as men treating women the same.

And, honestly? I can't help but see this disregard by fans (especially the feminist fans) as very spiteful.

Like, how do these people not see how this isn't okay?

I mean, no wonder Ganondorf always ends up such a sack of shit!

Seriously girls, imagine what it would be like growing up the only female in a society of all guys.

No maternal figures, no female role models, no female friends, or even acquaintances. And you're unlikely to ever even see another woman until you reach 18-20.

Separated from the most important woman in your life at 3-6, if not birth. To be raised by a pair of warlocks who despise their neighboring kingdom & are intent on turning you into a vile, tyrannical witch.

And every guy around you knows nothing about actual women, just misogynistic stereotypes, so all you can do is apply those same stereotypes to yourself & there's just this general consensus that women are basically unnecessary beyond producing children.

They don't have a single clue about what it means to be a woman. They don't know anything about women's health. No one to explain things to you when you need them most. So, in the end, you're mostly left to figure it all out on your own.

And the only real examples of women you have are people that your adoptive fathers say are oppressing you & your people. So, all you can do is quietly just assume that all women = bad. And that includes you too.

So, all you can do is frantically do everything you can to make yourself useful to these people who, knowingly or unknowingly, look down upon others of your sex.

And therefore, unconsciously, you as well.

And you're expected to rule these people. To lead them into a golden age.

I can't even imagine how damn isolating it must be. I can't imagine the pressure. These are your people, yet even so, you are still alien to them. Still other. Still "not one of them."

And in many ways, a commodity.

Based entirely upon something that you have zero control of.

And upon reaching 18, you're likely used as a breeding mare.

And the only people who could ever truly understand your situation & the pressure that comes with it... are all dead...

Now, switch the sexes & you basically have every Gerudo Voe's reality.

It's no damn wonder that Ganondorf always becomes evil.

There's also the ridiculous superstition that "men bring about disaster."

And then we get into the detrimental affects this shit has on the Vai!

Look at how these women react to just seeing a dude!

And this chick can't even look a man in the eye!

Because, apparently, she's never even seen a real man in person before! So, Link has to freaking wear a full-face mask in order to get her to manage to speak to him!

And let's not even get into what the little Vai wear! The sirwal are fine, it's the tops that need to be changed.

Kids aren't supposed to show that much skin!

LoZ Cultural Masterlist 2

[bijoumikhawal]

Clothes from the Siwa Oasis, Costumes of Egypt by Shahira Mehrez

Siwa is relatively isolated from the rest of Egypt, and resultingly has a unique local culture. This is bolstered by its large population of Imazighen and Black people. Though the public perception is that Siwa is the only place Imazighen have lived in Egypt in large numbers, this is not true as there are parts of Upper Egypt that have Amazigh populations (specifically descending from the Hawwara), and even centuries where they were the dominant local political entity. That said, the Oasis still traded with other parts of Egypt during it's isolation, notably with Kirdasa, where many kinds of striped fabrics were traditionally sourced. It seems fashion may have been influenced beyond that, as one surviving example of a 19th century dress is in the tob sebleh style used throughout Egypt.

Unmarried girls and married women were traditionally distinguished in two ways: one, girls wore tunics with a slit neckline, which is embroidered in green, orange, red, and yellow. Married women wore a square neckline with predominantly green embroidery. Two, women wore a kind of sirwal called srwalayn hatem as part of their standard clothing under their tunic. 7 of these would be included in the trousseau. Unmarried girls traditionally did not wear this.

The white and black bridal dresses you may have seen before are called ashsherreḥ (sometimes transliterated "asherah") naminal and ashsherreḥ nazitaf, respectively. These are elaborately embroidered and embellished with decorative mother of pearl buttons. The buttons have led to other Egyptians calling these "the dress of a thousand buttons". They were not originally worn on the day of the wedding itself, but for ceremonies in the following week, and kept as formal wear. However, there are a few other styles of dresses designated for weddings and the bridal ceremonies, and these dresses have had similar versions made for unmarried girls at various points as fashion evolved and changed. Today, while some young brides have a strong affection for the traditional dresses, very few women wear them due to social judgement and the proliferation of Western style white dresses, as well as a lack of avaliablity of the dresses or even jewelry, which may be more socially accepted than the dresses. Most examples of the ashsherreḥ have a round neckline with a slit instead of the square neckline, though other bridal tunics have the square neckline. There was also a brief fashion of ashsherreḥ in bright colors in the mid 20th century.

The embroidery has been of interest to various archeologists and historic researchers, as Siwi motifs include suns and crosses, often combined together. The mother of pearl buttons also have a solar significance, being believed to give the wearer the power of the sun. Some, such as Ahmed Fakhry, believe Siwa once hosted Christians and adherents of Amun-Ra simultaneously, and take these symbols as potential evidence. Personally I find taking this specifically as evidence of that a bit spurious (though the suggestion itself is certainly plausible, and even likely), but embroidery motifs on clothes certainly are used for centuries in Egypt; while exact copies are rare, one can find Mamluk era examples correlating strongly to motifs found on dresses made 600-400 years later. I am mostly skeptical because 1) other Egyptians are can be very obnoxious about proving something was originally Pharaonic, and often use logical leaps or simply lie to connect things, and 2) urban peoples have a very annoying habit of treating rural peoples as though they are "frozen" in time, so using regional dresses as evidence for history some thousand years ago rankles me. I see it all the time with biblical scholars in regard to Beoduins, and I narrow my eyes here because it feels like a similar attitude. Admittedly, as I have pointed out, this isn't unique to Siwa.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Okay. This is less of an Equal Lady thing & more of a thought experiment. Imagine, if you will, that there is a half-fae Darling (personally, I like the idea of a Link's monozygotic twin sister or older sister depending on the Dorf). Like, not specifically fairy the way Rulie is, but any of a wide variety of supernatural denizens of the Fae Realm.

Anyway, if you know anything about fae lore, it's actually really bad to give one your full, actual name. (At the same time, fae hate lies, so it's best to go with a nickname instead.) Because, if you do give them your full name… It gives them power over you.

And if you eat or drink fae food made by fae, then… Well… They own you. You belong to that fae & they command you. And, it’s somewhat vague about what things are considered, “fae food.”

So, I'm just imagining 2 different scenarios. Either Dorf eats a specifically fae dish made by Darling without either of them realizing or during one of the Dorfs’ villain monologues just sort of looking at him like he's insane in the membrane (because he just gave not just his full real name, but his title & even the name of his birth mother & her title, possibly even his adoptive mothers & their titles; which, the more a fae knows about you, the more power they have over you).

After which, she opens her mouth & recites his full name, then commands him to fall asleep… And he just collapses right there. Only to wake up in a cell, chained to the wall.

His Triforce piece is absent, his magic not responding to his command.

Powerless… with a new mistress who he cannot disobey no matter what… He cannot attack her. And if she so commands it, he can't even act out against her regardless of how.

On a scale of 1 to shitting his sirwal, how badly are they taking it?

Especially when they learn why & just how badly they fucked themselves over? And do any of the Dorfs suddenly discover themselves to be switches at the thought of a woman holding so much power over him?

Because the truest Social Darwinist is one who recognizes when they're beat & submits to who, by their own philosophy, has proven themselves their better.

I dunno, I guess that, at least in the case of TP, I can see him being the only real & true Social Darwinist out of all the Dorfs for this reason. Like, none of the others believe it fully, not even TotK Dorf, really.

At the same time, he's stubborn & would need to be beaten in ever conceivable way before such would occur.

Regardless, though, I get the feeling that they'd all experience psychosexualism. Ebheroticism.

Finally, what are your thoughts on such a possibility?

I'm going to fully admit that my brain has been not working the last couple days (its been longer, but it's kinda swizz cheese rn. I loved having this thought process to think on, but my hands are not wanting to work with my brain to actually formulate what I'm thinking. ADHD and Depression are powerful foes when working together.

I didn't want you to think that I was ignoring this, however! I did want to see what another thought process was, so I do want to share the ChatGPT portion for now, then repost with my ideas later when the brain functions. I appreciate your asks, and please do not be afraid to send them when you have more! <3

ChatGPT Says:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf would initially be in shock and disbelief. His arrogance and confidence in his own power would make it difficult for him to accept that he has been bested so thoroughly by someone he underestimated.

Feelings:

Shock and Anger: He would feel a mixture of rage and disbelief at having been tricked and rendered powerless.

Resentment: He would harbor deep resentment towards Darling for exploiting such a weakness.

Response:

Resistance: Initially, he would resist with all his might, trying to find any loophole or weakness in the fae’s control over him.

Cunning: He would try to outwit Darling, looking for opportunities to regain his power or manipulate her into releasing him.

Acceptance:

Reluctant Acceptance: Over time, if he finds no way out, he might grudgingly accept his position, but he would never fully submit without an ongoing internal struggle.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would be furious. His pride would be severely wounded, and he would struggle with the realization that he has been so thoroughly outmaneuvered.

Feelings:

Humiliation: He would feel deeply humiliated at being overpowered and controlled.

Hatred: He would develop an intense hatred towards Darling.

Response:

Revenge: He would constantly plot revenge, even while powerless. His mind would be consumed with thoughts of retribution.

Defiance: He would remain defiant and refuse to cooperate, making it clear that he is not broken.

Acceptance:

Unyielding Resistance: He would never truly accept his situation. Instead, he would bide his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would experience a profound sense of disbelief. His entire identity is built around his strength and dominance, and being rendered powerless would be a crushing blow.

Feelings:

Despair and Rage: He would oscillate between despair at his powerlessness and rage at being tricked.

Curiosity and Respect: Despite his rage, he might develop a grudging respect for Darling’s cunning.

Response:

Introspection: He would spend time reflecting on his failures and trying to understand his opponent better.

Manipulation: He would attempt to manipulate Darling emotionally or psychologically to gain some leverage.

Acceptance:

Potential Submission: If he recognizes Darling as a truly superior being by his own Social Darwinist philosophy, he might begrudgingly submit, but this would take a long time and complete domination on her part.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Initial Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would react with immediate and violent anger. His sense of invincibility would be shattered, leading to an explosive response.

Feelings:

Frustration: He would be incredibly frustrated at being outsmarted and overpowered.

Determination: His determination to break free and reclaim his power would be overwhelming.

Response:

Aggression: He would use every ounce of his strength to break free, regardless of the consequences.

Strategizing: When aggression fails, he would start strategizing, using his tactical mind to find weaknesses in Darling’s control.

Acceptance:

Temporary Compliance: He might temporarily comply if it serves a strategic purpose, but he would never truly accept subservience.

Overall

All versions of Ganondorf would struggle immensely with being overpowered and controlled. Their reactions would range from outright aggression to cunning manipulation. The realization of their powerlessness would be a significant blow to their pride, but their responses would vary:

Wind Waker: Shock and cunning resistance.

Ocarina of Time: Humiliation and plotting revenge.

Twilight Princess: Deep introspection and potential eventual submission.

Hyrule Warriors: Immediate aggression followed by strategic plotting.

The idea of a woman holding power over them would be difficult for them to accept, but it could potentially lead to an evolution in their thinking, especially for Twilight Princess Ganondorf, who might come to respect and even submit to such power if it is proven to be superior.

[majumapankonveksi]

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jasa konveksi underwear, jasa konveksi kulot, jasa konveksi celana terdekat, jasa konveksi celana kolor murah, jasa konveksi celana sirwal

konveksi hijab, konveksi hijab terdekat, konveksi jilbab terdekat, konveksi hijab termurah, konveksi jilbab segi empat

[cconfusedkat]

Tbh ,, ive only given Allure (my lambs name) a fleece just because i didnt really have time to put them in an outfit i wanted them to wear

Ive sorta used allure as the one i project onto the most compared to my other lambs, so that included like how they look compared to my family for example or rlly just hcs

And ik this is literally JUST a cult game that i shouldnt take too srs-- but i relate to allure in some stances from how i plan out their story and why they act the way they do (really just an anxiety ridden person but is better at masking, so they usually come off as more energetic and ambiverted for example)

But now continuing onto what i wanted for them to wear from a few months ago!! Normally i always draw them wearing like. The red fleece ? But thats entirely it

I always want to draw a better outfit for them, such as . Hm,,, idk how to describe in english

(OMFG. Sorry i wrote so much ill put the infodump below the cut HELP)

Allure's gender has always been complicated for them, hx's identified with many labels-- being intersex can be tough because not only did/do they struggle with how they perceive themself, but how others perceive hxm. It never mattered living in hxs old village as a little lamb. When hx got captured with hxs mother by the followers of the old faith, that's where hx did face more intersexism,,, lambs were considered more and more "rare" as a species as the next 50 years went on, including going into hiding with their mother for fifteen years. They were forced to comply to the old faith's followers standards, even being disrespected at the moment of death when they got executed. So, why does being intersex sorta just tie everything together for them? Well growing up, i never had too many intersex resources myself, but still dehumanized by my peers—i projected that onto Allure to feel,, less lonely ?

I changed their labels to be transneufemmasc, because that's where their transition sorta ties down into, if that makes sense? Im transandrofem/transneufem, i always had a connection to feminity, yet androgny still has some close ties to me. For Allure, they never really had many problems growing up, everyone sorta just called them a bit of both. A boy, a girl, a person-- just a lamb-- they werent seen as much else. They were ,, normal ,,, their village had few lambs just like them, and it was highly respected and viewed as a sign of god on how rare a condition of theirs can be seen something so beautiful (again im unsure how to translate that into english, think of it as a gender affirming thingy)

I use they/hxm for Allure because hx/hxm ties in with their transition more as well. The 'x' in the pronouns are usually for intersex prns ,, Allure was misgendered more while in captured, referred to as a 'thing' or an 'it' (along with the h word :'-3 just cuz ive been called it and that was apart of their 'dehumanization' as a lamb in the 1500s)

After 400 years (so itd be 1900s), i like to believe they settled on a label, even when gender is constantly flowing and changing, they figured out a lot,, despite being at war with the bishops but 😭 lamdoakdjw allure was like "im prolly nonbinary but i have a job so idrc about that rn" (they always were nonbinary BUT YKWIM,,)

Relating to their clothes now. YIPPEE. They had always worn a mixture of clothing pieces, when belonging to different genders, so for example they would typically wear silver jewelry wayyy back then (which was typically for female lambs) and they wore jubba and sirwal (just long sleeve undergarment and baggy trousers) with having tatriz embroidered sometimes... as in the dresses with tatriz embroidery on them, they never really minded the types of clothing they chose and that their mother chose for them

They often wore trousers though and a long sleeve white shirt out of silk :--) with lavandi. Allures mother would do henna for their hands, along with many other family members—they had a huge family before everything happened,,, another comparable thing to my history where my family used to be big enough until it became a smaller number ,,, i like to believe Allure wrote down old traditions to never forget, hopefully having more lambs to carry on their legacy (as they eventually "retire" because it became difficult to run a cult when your emotions were all over the place for mourning your beloved family members, especially the new found family you create, having all of them die in 100 years) (so rlly that just left Narinder all on his own)

The ideas ive had though for putting together their outfit? As a current cult leader ? It would be something like a black top (with those shoulder things at the side of their arms if that makes sense), a corset OR a lavandi (indescive still), and having specifically dark brown trousers that would go up to their knees ,,, they would have bandages wrapped around their shins, along with their wrists

+ when they reside in their cult for a few days to take care of cult matters, papers, sermons, etc, i like to imagine thats when they wear their "fleece" (much rather like a shall instead) and an embroidery dress of tatriz they took time to make themself :--) they took possibly a few months to make it given their lack of resources, but after beginning their journey to silk cradle they had better access to silk-- making outfits for their followers and themself as well,, which would include the shall and tatriz dress ,,

For their choker/collar thing , thats where they remove the bell when going on crusades, to focus better on their objective. When residing (verbatim) to rest in the cult, thats when they put back on the bell. Sometimes it would also be a red pentacle theyd attach to the black collar :> they definitely continued their tradition of wearing silver jewelry, until they discovered Midas' Cave (....dont tell anyone i said this but they robbed Midas back GREATLY. lamb was charitable, yes, but this fucker kept robbing allure-- how else were they meant to respond to that 🙂🙂🙂)

But yes lol,,, if Allure were human they would be Arab if that wasnt obvious enough 🫶🫶🫶 i love them very much and i love the past few months ive been building their character. Im happy to continue this self indulgency and build them more, self projection has always been such a comfort for me ,, so i have fun doing that for Allure

OO PLUS PLUS !!!!! Allures name was never Allure to begin with. that's the thing fsjjwjfn,,, hxs mother gave hxm a new name to live on a happy life and to never forget her. Hx absolutely hated that and never wanted to change hxs name, but by now for the past 300 years he forgot about his original birth name. Allure did this just for their mother. They still mourn her everyday, even when hx's too mentally or physically tired to. Even as the god of death themself, they pray to their mother the most, always wishing safety for her

Their mothers name was Zainab,,, the A name vs the Z name is rlly important despite it being such a small detail ,,, allure is the last lamb to live in this world--while zainab had been the very few lambs left ,,, holding her child close and kissing allures forehead before she complied to getting beheaded right in front of the bishops ,,, Just like how Allure was

Ok thats all i can think of i just wanted to infodump for my lamb HESNFHSFN theyre based off of my first save (that i did 100% and am on day 403 there :>)

[amiharana]

25 for the revalink prompts? Bonus for not the gerudo outfit

(ask game from here)

part two of You Guys Have the Same Brainworm in my Askbox. but aw darn ya got me anon!!! truthfully, if you want me to write this in canon, i'm not sure what other armor sets would incite the same sort of fluster the prompt implies? like i have a zelda wiki open on the botw armor page and i'm going through it like Hm. Not sexy enough. KJDFHJKDHF but i still wanna write this one in canon so we're gonna take the non-horny route on the definition of 'flustered' instead LMAO

👔 25. Link dresses up just to try and get Revali flustered.

"why in the name of the goddess do you have so much clothing?" revali grumbles, crossing his arms. he's sitting in the middle of their shared roost, surrounded by piles of link's collection of armor, growing more and more as the blond continues warping them out of the sheikah slate. how much could that little contraption hold?

"well, i didn't mean to get this much," link says, tapping at the slate. he holds one of his hands out and in the next second, a pair of opal earrings materializes out of blue light in his palm. "at first, it was just out of necessity. you know zelda left me with only one set of shirt and pants when i woke up? it was way too small and that shit had probably been molding for a hundred years."

he places the earrings on the table with the other jewelry he's pulled out of the slate so far. "i mean, thankfully i found some better pants on the great plateau, but i threw that shirt away as soon as i got to hateno. there's definitely some freak in akkala who got ahold of it somehow, though..."

"and then you just kept buying more?" revali says, peering at one of the piles. why did he have so many of the same green tunic?

"in my defense, i just found some of the stuff lying around hyrule!" link replies, raising both of his hands up in surrender. "but the stealth set is really useful, and the snowquill armor is my favorite of all of my armor." he smiles fondly at revali, and the rito can't help but melt a little bit under his songbird's gaze. "and i look really good in the gerudo top and sirwal." link wiggles his eyebrows at revali, his smile growing mischievous. "wanna see?"

warmth coils under revali's cheek feathers, but he wills it away as best as he can. "maybe another time, when you haven't made an actual nest out of our home," he mutters, looking away.

as he does, one of the armor pieces catches his attention. it's designed with glowing swirls of orange and dots of blue, reminiscent of ancient sheikah technology. "what's this one?" revali says, pulling the piece towards himself. the shoulder ridges sort of remind him of the crest of medoh's head...

link follows his gaze and hums. "that one's the ancient cuirass," he says. "you're supposed to wear it with the greaves over here—" link reaches over to a piece of the other side of revali, revealing matching pants. "and also the helm, but uh... the headpiece is honestly kinda goofy, so i just wear the diamond circlet because it's prettier."

he reaches back towards the table to find the circlet and places it on the head. link then places his hands under his chin and slightly turns his face to the side. "don't i make a prettier princess than zelda like this?"

revali snorts. "sure." he turns back to the cuirass. the orange glow honestly reminds him too much of windblight; the swirling patterns are too similar and he fights down a shiver. he has to remind himself that the sheikah technology had existed prior to the influence of ganon and that it was always meant to be used for good. "what does the helm look like?"

link giggles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "well, uh, here's the one i bought from robbie..." he taps at the sheikah slate and something that looks vaguely like the head of a guardian materializes and drops in link's lap. he holds it up towards revali, grinning in a way that looks more like a grimace.

revali blinks once and then his eyes widen, staring in disbelief at the headpiece. "what... in hylia's name is that," he says taking the helm from link. at closer inspection, the glowing blue circles dotting the circumference of the helm are reminiscent of guardian eyes, or like windblight's. revali shivers this time; he decides he doesn't like the helm at all.

link laughs again nervously. "yeah, like i said, it looks goofy and i feel really silly wearing it..." he trails off, looking away before perking up again. "oh! i have other ancient helms that you might like better than this one."

"robbie made more?" revali says, looking up at link.

the blond shakes his head, tapping at the slate again. "nah, he only made that one, and these ones..." he pauses, chewing on his lip. "um... would you believe me if told you these ones fell out of the sky after i defeated the ganon blights?"

revali blinks once slowly and stares at link, searching his face for any hint of mischief. the only expression on his little jewel's face is hesitance and wariness. "and how exactly would they have done that?"

"dunno, i couldn't explain it even if i tried," link says, shrugging. he taps at the sheikah slate again and another helm materializes from blue light, dropping in the blond's lap. but this time, revali's eyes widen. "i have four of these ones and they all look like—"

"what the hell?" revali exclaims. "how— what— where did you—?!" it feels like every feather on revali's body has risen, standing straight up. he probably looks ridiculous right now, but every part of his body is flushing warm with a feeling he can't put a name to. the helm looks like exactly like medoh's head, or perhaps more accurately, a smaller version of it.

link stares at him, frozen in place holding the helm. "uh... like i said, it kinda just... fell out of the sky after i beat windblight..." chewing on his lip, he slowly holds the helm out to revali. "do you wanna...?

revali just stares at the headpiece with wide eyes for a moment. how did link even get a hold of this? it was supposed to be... slowly and warily, revali takes the helm from link and turns it over in his hands until he's looking at it head-on. it really looks just like medoh.

"you said it fell out of the sky," he murmurs, running the tip of a feathered finger over the ridges of the helm, "but why... why was it given to you... and how did it get to you if..." he trails off, finally speechless.

"if what?" link says softly, trying to prompt revali to continue.

"this is the divine helm of medoh," revali says, his voice quiet. "it's supposed to be a treasure gifted to the one who controls medoh. and as her champion, this was gifted to me back then. i lost it during the awakening of the calamity and after windblight took over..." revali resists the urge to tremble. "i don't know what happened to it. how it came to be in your hands is..."

"i don't know either," link says. "i don't know why it was given to me either. i have other helms that look like the heads of the other divine beasts, too. if that one was yours, then i guess those helms belong to the other champions. i should give them back..." the blond fidgets. "do you... want yours back? it's not like i use it that much anyway. it's just been sitting in the slate collecting dust— i mean, if it could collect dust in there, i don't know how it's stored—"

"it's fine," revali cuts him off, his voice soft. he's still staring at the helm. "just keep it with you for now. the role of the champions and the use of the divine beasts is obsolete now, with ganon sealed away. i wouldn't have a use for it either."

"are you sure?" link murmurs. revali looks back at him and his precious little jewel's eyes are wide and shining. revali doesn't know if it's possible to love a person more than what he feels for link in this moment.

"yes, i'm sure, songbird," he replies and hands the helm back. "it will probably be safer with you in the sheikah slate as well. you'll take good care of it, right?"

"of course," link responds immediately. "it's yours, of course i will." he turns back to the sheikah slate and taps at it again. in seconds, the helm dematerializes in blue light, presumably back into the slate. revali wonders then how anything is stored in there; is it an endlessly sheikah-blue space, floating forever in a void inaccessible from this world?

then, link sets the slate off to the side and crawls forward into revali's lap, wrapping his arms around revali's neck. like clockwork, the rito responds by wrapping his own arms around link's waist and holding him flush against his own body.

"i'm sorry," link blurts suddenly.

revali raises a brow. "what for?"

"that i had the helm. i should have realized that it would probably be yours."

revali snorts. "it was, in the past. i'm not sure i'm worthy enough to have it now, failing my role as a champion and no longer being required as one. you don't need to suffer any feathers over it, snowdrop."

"i guess..." link shifts in his hold so that the side of his head rests on revali's shoulder and he faces revali's neck. "but you are worthy. you're always worthy of it, 'vali, even if we don't need champions anymore. i love you, you know that, right?"

"i do," the rito responds softly. "and i love you as well, much more than you could ever fathom, songbird. thank you." he hears link hum, a content noise against his throat. they sit like that, wrapped in each other's embrace quietly for a couple moments until link speaks again.

"wanna see me in the gerudo fit now?"

"link—"

[godraet]

LITTLE MUSE FACTS

tagged by: stole this from another blog of mine tagging: steal this tag me

instructions: fill out the questions about your muse, repost, and tag as many people you want.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞? often, various spices or incense. rather pleasant!

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞/𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫? 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬? contrary to popular (hylian) belief, gan cares about hygiene a lot. there's nothing like a refreshing bath to unwind after a long and stressful day. also, the man has quite the long mane of hair, and he takes care of it very well! he's rather vain about it... over all, he's quite well groomed- he's padishah, after all, and wants to look the part!  

𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬? he does have piercings! as is common among the gerudo, his ears are pierced- on the note of tattoos, he sometimes will be marked with henna for various occasions, but that's temporary.

𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬 ( 𝐞𝐱. 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 )? no, but this is because as the years passed, gan had to basically learn how to be conscious of literally everything he did ever because he's padishah and he has to act like it. as a child he used to just fidget in general because he had a lot of energy and needed an outlet for it. that's when he started honing his skills using magic.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧? usually just sirwal pants- while it can get quite chilly in the gerudo desert at night, gan has so much body heat that he doesn't really mind.   

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠? he's not sure if he has a favorite? he never thought of things like that. clothes are practical and they serve their purpose, be they simple nightclothes, formal attire for meeting other nobility, armor to wear into battle, it isn't about favorites, there.  

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩? honestly gan wakes up and watches the sunrise. that's been a habit since his childhood and he's not stopping any time soon. of course, this doesn't count 10,000 years in weird death stasis. anyway yeah he wakes up, throws on a robe and goes to watch the sunrise over his kingdom from the balcony ... after that, it depends on what's on the day's agenda. sometimes he'll just have things to look over and do from the actual political governing perspective as a king, sometimes he will be meeting with other people. and when he's out on the battlefield, he still likes to watch the sunrise as best he can, because there's something soothing about that...

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩? 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧? gan sorta sprawls out, at least at the start. he often tosses and turns, he has a bad time with visions and memories while he sleeps, so it isn't too fun. safe to say, he sleeps poorly if he doesn't cool down first. 

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞? rough and calloused due to the fact that most everything he does is manual labor or combat. his hands are also always warm, because he’s always warm- it's also a side effect of his magic use.  

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞? probably still like subtle spices and some honey- which is always nice to put in an herbal tea! gan is very fond of herbal teas and honey, so there's a high chance the taste may linger...

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 6

(Chapter 5; Chapter 7)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

The Taste Of Devotion

“Liberated.” Sukuna repeats, as his grin grows bigger, red eyes glowing. Your eyes wander to his lips, his teeth. His canines, slightly bigger and sharper than the ones from a human. Almost feeling his breath on your face, you look back into his eyes.

“You’re dismissed, kitten.” he says, his energy’s grip on your throat loosens.

“Thank you, my King” you exhale, lowering your head in a soft bow. The new way you addressed him make his smirked lips twitch for a second, before he straightens his pose again, turning around and walking back to the garden door. You grow braver with every moment you spend with him.

Turning around and leaving his chambers in the usual manner, you find yourself back into your room. Sitting on your bed, you think about what just happened.

Asshole.

You look to your door.

I like him.

Growing up with people you would call assholes, you knew how to handle them. They would always wait for an opportunity to use you for their advantage. You learned how to retaliate, but also how to be emotionless towards them. Sukuna, however, excited you, interested you. He’s not a normal human being after all. You would lie if you said the way he caught you looking into his direction didn’t make you fear for your life, but as much as his height, eyes and manner intimidated you, it also attracted you. The way he was holding your chin and looked at your lips. The way he grinned at you, flashed his teeth at you. You couldn’t help to think that he must have found an interest in you, too. So far, your life in the shrine wasn’t bad at all, so you might as well push yourself to see how far you could go. With your life. With him. You had nothing to lose anyway.

You hear a knocking at your door in the morning. With tired eyes you fall out of bed, rush over to the door to open it. It’s Uraume.

“Master Sukuna awaits you in the throne room.” they say in a monotone voice. Your heart skips a beat.

What?

“I’ll be ready in a second!” you say as you rush back into the room to splash some water in your face. You can’t go in there looking like a homeless cat. Patting your hands on your kimono to make it look smooth again, you walk down the hall with Uraume. You’re nervous as you listen to your footsteps on the cold stone floor.

Why does he want me there?

As you approach the mysterious door you’ve seen every day but never set a foot in, it opens. Two maidens are pushing it open from the inside. You can’t believe the sight that awaits you.

Blue and red lights coat your vision, as you see a path in between water. Red water. You can’t recognize if its red because of the light, or something else. Blood maybe. At the ceiling of the is something that seems to be like a giant rip cage. Slowly you follow Uraume along the pathway. It leads to his throne. Your eyes wander up. Skulls, bull skulls everywhere, just like in the front of the shrine. A huge pile of them. Only in this moment you notice other maidens sitting on the skulls that lead up to his throne and at the top Sukuna is sitting in his seat. The mean bitch kneeling right next to one of his thighs, another maiden kneeling right next to the other. Sukuna sits with his legs spread, wearing a black garment, looks like a Sirwal, his upper body naked, leaning forward. You notice a slit on his belly, where his belly button should be. His bottom pair of arms resting relaxed on his thighs. His right hand holding onto a weapon, looking like some kind of spear, with a white cloth tied to the bottom of the blade. Having his upper left arm propped up on his thigh, he rests his face on his hand. A smirk already plastered on his face.

“You’re looking at me again without permission, mortal!” he comments loudly, his voice echoing through the halls. Your eyes shoot down to your feet. You were so captivated by your surroundings that you totally forgot the rules.

“Right here” Uraume whispers and mentions you forward. You’re now standing at the bottom of his throne. In the middle of the pile of skulls, a staircase leads up to the spot he’s sitting. The place smells like copper and smoke. Oxygen feels rare.

“Tell us what you want.” his stern voice rings through the air. A familiar energy creeping down the stairs into your direction.

After a moment of inner panic you manage to mumble: “Permission to look, Master Sukuna” “Use your voice!” he demands. His tone sends a shiver up your thighs.

“I am asking for permission to look into the face of my King” you speak as loud as you can. Fists form in your hands.

A pause.

“Do it.” you can hear his smirk in the way he speaks. You look up. His head is risen, eyes looking down at you. Sukuna is looking down with a smirk that makes you wanna clench your thighs together. Red eyes glowing down into yours. This is the first time you see him in another kind of light. The red and blue colours that shine through the halls are brighter than the light you’ve seen him in before, the light of the moon. The red coloured light only flatter his already red eyes and features. It reflects on his brows, cheekbone and jaw.

He’s captivating.

“I won’t repeat myself so you better start talking.” his energy presses into you. He sounds annoyed already. You inhale and instead of saying anything right away, you kneel. Getting on all fours, you push your face almost all the way down to the floor beneath you. After a small pause you say:

“You freed me, for that I owe you a debt. I will serve you. I will devout myself to you... I shall be yours, my King.” you say loudly.

Silence.

Whispers from the other maidens softly echo in the halls, barely audible. You wait, it feels like time passes too slowly.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Just in the moment you consider to look up to him between your hands, he starts to laugh. Loud. It sends shivers down your spine. This time Sukuna seems to be different from the encounters in his chambers. It sounds evil.

“How cute.” he says mockingly, still recovering from his laughter. “How will you serve me?” “In any way you want, my King.”

“Mhh” he huffs, “Stand up.”

You obey. Looking into his eyes again, you notice his expression has changed. No trace of laughter left in his face. With a risen eyebrow, Sukuna motions with a finger for you to come up to him. You hesitate, yet your feet slowly start walking towards the stairs. It’s like his energy, his whole being, sucks you in, dragging you up the stairs. You can’t help but to comply. Never breaking eye contact while you slowly climb the stairs, getting nearer to the King, you realise again, how tall he really is. Feet taking the last steps and you reach the top. You’re standing directly in front of him, his huge figure being a bit taller than you, even though he’s sitting. The King musters you, eyes slowly wandering from your eyes to your lips, to your neck, breasts, belly, stopping at the spot between your thighs. He stares... and your cheeks heat up.

“Strip.” he demands.

What?

All eyes on you. You can feel every person that is present in this room staring at you and you feel like your heart will pound out of your chest. Someone starts to giggle and you figure it must be the mean bitch. Sukuna’s red eyes shoot up to look into yours again. His gaze so intense and intimidating. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to do something. If only he knew what his gaze did to you and that very spot he’s been staring at seconds before. You’re here to serve him, show your devotion to him. So, with a pumping heart you decide to comply and slowly start to undo the kimono you’re wearing, the same kimono you wore on your first day here. A smirk starts to grow on Sukuna’s face again, as he watches your delicate fingers move around the garment. Two of his four eyes dancing and following every movement of yours, while the other two still fixate your flustered face.

You remove the last piece of clothing and there you are. Bare. For everyone to see. Including your King.

Your nipples harden from being exposed to the air around you. Although your heart pumps like it never has before, you manage to still keep your composure, staring back brave into the King’s eyes.

“In any way I want” he repeats in a whisper, his eyes mustering your naked body. Sukuna leans leans forward, his face leaving the hand he’s been leaning on. The King’s eyes wander over your exposed breasts and then back down to your now bare cunt. He closes his eyes and inhales, deep, as if he’s trying to smell something.

Can he?

Exhaling again, he opens his eyes, red orbs with blown pupils glowing into your face as he starts to chuckle and flashing his teeth. You can feel his hot breath on your face, it’s only a few inches away from yours after all. He looks so amused. The King’s right hand of his bottom pair of arms rises to graze your thigh with his sharp, black nails. A soft scratch, his touch. You missed it. It makes your cunt crave for more and your head dizzy. The feeling of his nails gives you goosebumps. Your eyes are fixated on his hand and you can’t believe what you see next. A mouth forms on his hand, little teeth flashing and a tongue creeping out of it. Shocked eyes shooting back to Sukuna’s face. He looks at you with the most evil grin spread on his face, his upper lip

twitching for a second, as his shoulder moves forward. Suddenly you feel the wet muscle at your clit. You gasp and before you could let out an embarrassing noise, you manage to put your hands in front of your mouth.

“Give me a taste of your devotion” he whispers, as he leans forward even more, staring so intently into your eyes. His red orbs flashing up as if they have fire in them. It makes your core clench. Again, your body complies without your mind, shifting your feet apart so that his large hand has room to crawl between your thighs. Three of his thick fingers start to move their way between your folds, so soft and careful, that even his long fingernails aren’t hurting you. It feels like one of his fingers are as thick as two of yours combined. Thighs start to tremble, as you feel his warm fingertips slowly glide through, leaving a path of sensations and wetting them in your essence. Breathing heavily into your hands as you watch his eyes observing every reaction of yours. Oh what his eyes do to you. The way his gaze holds yours is mind breaking. His touch feels so good, so careful.

Here you are, watched and presented in front of the whole shrine like a pig thats about to be eaten in a feast, yet it feels like it’s just you and him. Just you and him.

Your train of thought gets interrupted as you feel the warm, wet muscle lay itself flat on your clit.

You squeal.

His hand tongue starts to move, starts to lick a long stripe starting from your clit. Slowly, softly dipping its tip into your tight hole, that is already so wet from his voice and looks and manners alone. His eyes widen and his pupils dilate so wide at his action, that his eyes almost look black now. The lick continues further over your perineum, the sensation making your breath hitch. He chuckles.

“Delicious” he flashes his teeth as he retracts his hand from in between your thighs, eyes flaring into yours.

“She wants you, Master” the bitch giggles, it rips you back into reality. You were so lost in all the sensations he gave you, that you were forgetting the situation you were actually in. Your face heats up again at her comment and you despise it, but you try to remain calm. Sukuna spreads his legs even more as leans back in his throne, placing his head back onto his left hand. He notices your shift in demeanor, as you see him slightly cock his eyebrow at you.

“Do you think you can take him, love? You don’t look like you can. Virgin.” she mocks you.

Without being able to do anything about it, you feel tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. This whole situation has been too much, too many emotions at once. Your heart drops and you still only stare at the King.

“Permission to leave, my King” your voice fighting not to break. His expression has changed into something monotone, unreadable, as he moves his lips over the fingers his face has been resting on, watching you from the corners of his eyes. He taps on his armrest two times before nodding in silence.

“Thank you, my King” you bow your head and quickly gather your clothes to get down the stairs.

You rush past Uraume and back into the halls you came from.

[fashionthroughtimewithlucy]

Woodstock.

Woodstock, the most famous of the 1960s rock festivals, held on a farm property in Bethel, New York, August 15–18, 1969, at the end of the hippie movement. The hippie flower child look from the late 1960's carried over into the first half of the 1970's, in a non-restrictive bohemian silhouette with a heavy folksy influence. Arts and crafts had a huge impact on fashion during this time including tie-dye, batik, knitwear, crochet and macrame.

1970s Gunne Sax dresses.

Gunne Sax's aesthetic has been described as feminine, nostalgic, Victorian, old world and romantic. Though the brand is now closely associated with formal and bridal wear, its origins date back to late '60s San Francisco.  In 1969, San Francisco boutique Gunne Sax needed a house designer. Enter Jessica McClintock, an elementary school teacher with a life-long interest in fashion. When a friend told McClintock of the opening at Gunne Sax, she applied immediately. McClintock was hired despite her lack of formal training in fashion design or clothing manufacture. Herself and designer Laura Ashley popularized the prairie dress phenomenon.

Sometimes referred to as Granny or prairie dresses, a typical Gunne Sax dress of the early 1970s featured a banded Empire waist and a long maxi-skirt. Lace trim, high collars and long sleeves evoked an amalgam of past eras and created an overall impression of demure femininity.

Vogue Italia March 1970.

Twiggy for Vogue 1970

Thea Porter, Godmother of Bohemian Cheque.

Thea Porter, who is credited with bringing the bohemian look to London catwalks. Although Thea Porter is not as famous a name as Mary Quant or Laura Ashley, her influence on the look of her era is just as potent. Her loose, draped shapes and fabrics helped create the style of stars such as Faye Dunaway and Elizabeth Taylor in the 1970s, and they have since become forever entangled with the idea of rock-star self-indulgence. She celebrated ethnic styles in Indian style prints, free flowing breezy gauzy tent dresses and wide legged pants.

Porter's seven signature looks: the Abaya & Kaftan; the Gipsy dress; the Fraye dress; the Brocade-panel dress; the Wrap-over dress; the Chazara jacket, and the Sirwal skirt, as well as important fashion photography from the pages of Vogue, Harper's Bazaar and Women's Wear.

Changing skirt sizes.

This was the year of the changing hemline. There is no longer one length for one woman, but a whole wardrobe of lengths from which to choose. Mini, regular, midi and maxi length. Both emerald and bottle green were popular colours of the 1970s along with rust, wine red, purple, orange, and brown.

Tom Wolfe called the 1970s the "me decade" Across the land, Americans seemed determined to escape from the wars and social movements of the previous decade. Disillusionment with national and global action led many to look inward and find solace in discovering more about themselves. Women demanded respect as equal partners, and began to emerge into the work place. As women asserted themselves economically, socially, and politically, the idea of remaining trapped in an unhappy marriage became less and less appealing. Consequently, the divorce rate soared. An 1974 book entitled the courage to divorce  encouraged individuals to put their own happiness above that of their spouses and children.

Every rule of fashion was shattered in the 1970s. Lapels, ties, and collars, reached record widths. The polyester leisure suit, available in a palette of citrus and pastel colors, was extremely popular among young males. The jacket, pants, and vest were often worn with an open collar to display thick necklace chains nestled in exposed chest hair. A senses of masculine style emerged in the film 'Annie Hall' which created a sensation with Diane Keaton wearing a fitted vest with a collard white shirt and men's neckties.