#Shoji Table Lantern

[lowedeus]

I really love the sims 2 real-life references! You probably know my posts about that: here, here and here. 

I think the egg-shaped "Shoji Table Lantern” is originally referenced to the Akari Light Sculptures by Isamu Noguchi (1951) - Akari N1

I was browsing old IKEA catalogues from 1995-2004 for autism reasons, trying to find an old IKEA throw blanket I had that I cannot find confirmation had ever existed on any IKEA index outside of it being in my memories and on a chair I own. (I found it, btw.)

I accidentally stumbled across something rather... controversy-inducing.

A lot of The Sims 2's furniture is just 90s IKEA.

No, not just the IKEA stuff pack - that's mid-2000s IKEA, get it right! I mean 1990s IKEA.

Canopy crib, anyone?

I'll add more in a reblog, but those are nearly 1:1 with items in TS2.

The catalogues online are in Swedish but I have the English versions in storage in my garage. Besides the language change and a few small differences local to Sweden such as locations, colours, offers, and prices, the furniture was identical around the world.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 9.9k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! heian era!au, concubine!reader, true form!Sukuna, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), canon typical violence, era typical misogyny/gender roles, unhealthy obsession, mentions of death, mentions of cannibalism and blood, (Sukuna is a lunatic), Sukuna is referred to exclusively as “Lord Sukuna”

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ I got a bit carried away with this one. My love of psychological horror was clawing to be free but I think I kept it pretty contained…

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ✦ ⋆˙ engawa ┈ a hallway-like path surrounding the house ⋆ shoji ┈ a sliding door/divider ⋆ koto ┈ a Japanese zither/stringed instrument

The winter storm has leached everything into bleak shades of black and white, like ink on parchment. The trees are thick black strokes against the deep gray clouds, dusted with a thick layer of snow as flurries fall like stars through the courtyard. In the moonlight each snowflake shines like pearls, soft and lustrous as they dance on the wind. From the edge of the engawa it almost looks like staring into the great gaping mouth of a beast that’s swallowed the world, spears of ice hanging like jagged teeth from the edge of the roof, the wind shuddering through the estate in howling gusts. The cold night is scented with dreams of spring, sweet smelling coal burning in braziers, wafting gray wisps of floral-scented smoke into the wind. 

It’s quiet aside from the sharp whistling of the wind and the hissing of snow melting over hot coals, then, somewhere within the estate, a bell tolls for the Hour of the Rooster. Nightfall, despite the veil of darkness already laid out by the storm clouds. Suddenly there’s the sound of footsteps soft as summer rain, pattering through the estate and the shoji begin to blossom with the warmth of firelight as candles are lit throughout the sprawling house. More snow gathers in soft sheets over the courtyard before there’s a gentle knock to announce a soft-footed servant coming to renew the braziers and light the lanterns. The scent of lavender is renewed as the coals are sifted and replaced and the engawa is streaked with blushing shades of gold as the pink-tinged paper lanterns are lit in turn. 

Of all the rooms in the vast estate, yours is the most adorned. Which is to say, it looks as though your room is used for more than sleeping. There’s a modest desk with inks and paper, a small table for combs and perfumes, and a trunk for miscellaneous things beside the chest of drawers filled with kimono. When she’s lit the last lantern, you ask the girl to send for your personal maid. A dowry servant, though not originally one of yours. Life in this estate is fleeting in that way. 

An unbalanced teacup had been the undoing of the girl your father sent to accompany you in your marriage. Stained silk and scalded skin, later soaked with splatters of blood. But the tatami were changed and the kimono and girl were replaced. Your new maid is a bit older–a few years your senior–originally belonging to a woman that came before you. Certainly not First Mistress because she would loathe to see you even look upon anything of hers. No, she served a less honored concubine that wasn’t worthy of the title “wife,” even if it’s a hollow honor in itself. Still, your maid had belonged to the unknown mistress before she perished. It all happened before you were brought to the estate, but the haggard weight of the loss still sits heavy on her shoulders. Her face always looks like a crumpled piece of paper that someone tried to smooth flat, creased with hidden worries. She arrives quickly, kneeling to await her orders. 

“I’m happy,” you tell her. “A new Mistress is joining the family tonight, isn’t that right? Happy news.” The maid hums something to the tune of affirmation, long since grown used to your unflinchingly jovial disposition. She once asked if you wear a smiling mask throughout the day and take it off once you sleep. It’s a silly question, of course, but you like to imagine that you smile even in your sleep. There is nothing to be sad about. Living a life such as this is no different than a deer grazing in a meadow. There is nothing beyond the grass. Nothing farther than the horizon or higher than the tallest tree. What is there to be sad about when the world has been folded into something small enough to hold in your hands, a piece of origami meant to be appreciated and not pondered. There’s happiness in the simplicity that this life provides, though you seem to be the only one to realize it. 

The other two Mistresses of the house say that you should be locked up in a rice chest and left out to die. That it’s cruel to let you live in such a state of delusion. How little they know, yet it’s still too much. At times, it seems that they are far deeper in their minds than you’ve ever been. Caught up in worries and tribulations that haven’t plagued you in a long time, since you let go of your humanity. What use is pretending to be human when you’re treated like a pet. Treasured and pampered but still inferior to the master of the house. Because your husband has no true use for human brides. In keeping the three of you, he has honored each of your families with the knowledge that their blood has produced something too intriguing to kill off just yet. Perhaps if he desires an offspring to assume his legacy he’ll have a true use for one of you. 

Other brides have been offered and had their families culled like squashing bugs. It made you feel some air of superiority, knowing that you were chosen from a dozen women to be honored as a new wife to the King of Curses. It only took a few months for you to realize your place in all this and the last thread of your humanity snapped like a frayed koto string. Thinking of yourself as a person is useless when the person that holds your life within his hands sees you as no more than a doll to be toyed with as he sees fit. 

“I’m happy.” You always mean it when you say it. Happiness is all you have left when faced with the truth of how finite your existence is. There is no world beyond the walls of this estate. No people beyond its residence and staff. No purpose outside of serving your husband with unwavering loyalty. In that regard you are the most precious of his wives. The others, their devotion wavers. You’ve seen it in the way they still hesitate to follow simple instructions, still tremble and shrink in Lord Sukuna’s presence even as you bloom like a flower in the light of the sun. He is your sun. There is no life without him. Which is why you are happy to simply exist in this small world that he’s made for you. 

His power has greatly uncomplicated your existence, turned it to something purposeful, something that will end when you’re no longer of use. And Lord Sukuna will always tell you when you serve no further purpose to him. How many underlings has he executed because they were no longer of use? You imagine they must’ve felt great pride in the moments before their demise at the hands of their King. Pride in knowing that they did what they were made to do. As a child you had scoffed at the idea that your only purpose was to be wed and serve your husband as a proper wife should, but that was when the husband of your future was set to be someone unremarkable. Lord Sukuna is greater than any man that’s ever lived. Perhaps even ascended beyond the concept of a man to become the strongest sorcerer to ever live. As the daughter of a highly regarded family known for birthing remarkable sorcerers, you take pride in your small but purposeful place in all this. The culling of clans, the clashing of factions trying to unseat your husband. History will remember you because you will play your part until the very end. An end you’ll greet with a smile if it should come by your husband’s hand. 

“Will the Fourth Mistress be here soon?” A new deer to join the herd, a new flower planted in the garden. 

“By the Hour of the Bird, the last message said.” Your maid agrees. Soon, a new Mistress will be here. It’s been so long since another woman has joined hands with Lord Sukuna. The last being yourself nearly two years ago. First Mistress had been collected three years ago, and Second Mistress came along only a short few months behind her. Lord Sukuna had waited half a year after that to marry a third wife, and you must’ve served him well because there’s been no need for another until now. It makes you wonder if death is close at hand. A raven had come earlier in the day, before the snow began to fall, announcing that Lord Sukuna would be returning from his excursion by nightfall. Perhaps he wanted to arrive home in time to greet his new bride. 

Fourth Mistress. Unlucky number Four, terrible number Four. Blowing into her marriage with a snow storm. It’s all terribly inauspicious, but Lord Sukuna has reason for everything he does. Nothing is without purpose. Even death has cause when dealt by his hand. Even if it comes tonight you will go towards it fully satisfied. The snowfall looks beautiful, and the cold isn’t so terrible with the legion of braziers burning around you and the thick furs draped over your shoulders. It’s a wonderful night to die if it should come to that. 

“Shall we go welcome her?” 

“First Mistress insisted that you need not be present for Fourth Mistress’ arrival, your highness.” First Mistress, Jurina, whose hatred towards you cannot be quelled by any manner of platitudes. 

When you first arrived, you’re sure it was mere jealousy that compelled her to act out against you. A multitude of wives is not uncommon among high ranking men, but rarely is it expected that they should all live together. Most wives are left in their parents’ homes to be visited whenever their husband deems it fit. To walk the hall of your home and come across the woman your husband sees when he is not with you must be jarring to the first woman he married. Jurina seemed adamant about dispelling you from the family upon your first arrival. Now, her animosity isn’t borne of jealousy, but discomfort. 

Your happiness makes her nervous. She’s said it herself. Snapping and raging at you for your unflinching smile even as she and Second Mistress have slowly begun to lose themselves in the monotony of this life. Sitting and waiting, then serving when Lord Sukuna comes home. To them, your complacency, your happiness, is something eerie and othered. Akin to the curses your families seek to eradicate. Unnatural. Inhuman. Though it hardly matters what they think of you. They are not your reason for being, and Lord Sukuna seems to find your smile charming. 

Despite the chill, you find yourself reaching for a fan. A gift from Uraume. They’re strangely doting towards you in a way that they aren’t to Lord Sukuna’s other wives, bringing you gifts when they accompany Lord Sukuna on long trips away from the estate. A set of calligraphy brushes, a jade bracelet, a new kimono. You’ve amassed quite a collection of possessions by Uraume’s spoiling, though the fans are your favorite. All made a beautifully lacquered wood, some painted with gilded designs, the folded paper painted by the hands of careful artists. Crashing waves and blossoming trees decorate each of your fans and you take great pride in keeping them all in pristine condition because you’d hate to perform a dance with a damaged fan. 

Of all of the things filling your room, your koto is the most precious. It had belonged to your mother and she offered it with teary eyes as your wedding gift, absolutely bereft that she had to marry her daughter off to a monster to appease the head of your father’s clan. But such was your purpose in being born into a highly acclaimed sorcerer clan. Take your blood and lend your body to another clan so that you might make more powerful jujutsu users. Your father had complained of the waste in sending you off to quell the King of Curses, insisting that sending you to Lord Sukuna would be a waste of a bride. Curses have no use for brides nor, truly, does their King. Still, Lord Sukuna keeps all of you alive and well in his home. To what end? It’s hardly your concern. 

“Bring my koto,” you hum. “I want to dance.” 

The maid goes about carrying the large stringed instrument to the edge of the room where the opened shoji separates the warmth of your room from the chill of the engawa. It is a happy coincidence that your maid had been taught to play the koto some years ago when she was still an eligible maiden. But her father grew ill and when he passed her mother sent her off to find work to support herself because she couldn’t afford a dowry to marry her off properly. So she sits and serves, waiting for you to name your song of choice with her fingers poised over the strings. The song you choose is one of comfort, the first your mother ever taught you when you were learning to dance and play. There’s a practiced grace to your movements, smooth as a flowing river as you dance with your fan. The song is short but it is always your favorite to perform. 

A rare beauty in the north, she’s the finest woman on earth. A glance from her, the city falls. A second glance leaves the nation in ruins. There exists no city or nation that has been more cherished than a beauty like this.

Flecks of snow melt against the bare nape of your neck, so cold it feels like burning, but you want to keep dancing. The weather has no bearing on your mood. Rain or shine you are happy to sing and dance, amusing yourself as you wait to be of use to your lord husband. Perhaps he has already returned home along with his new bride but without the order to accompany him you will stay in your room, performing to your heart’s content. Your maid begins to pluck out the notes of your next song request, fingers stuttering over the strings as if she’s forgotten how to play the melody. That’s alright, you will dance even without proper music, swinging your fan with practiced poise as your voice contests with the howling of the storm. It’s a song of longing and melancholy. Fitting for a woman separated from her husband. 

Are you going away? Leaving me alone? How could I live if you’ve gone away? Are you going away? Leaving me alone? I want to keep you unhappy with me. I fear you may never return. Sadly, I will let you go–

“Stop whining, I’m here.” A voice interrupts your singing, a smooth timbre that rumbles like a roll of thunder. So please, come back soon after you leave. In a heartbeat you’re on the floor, kneeling before your husband. Lord Sukuna is soiled from his travels. Kimono stained and torn, the scent of blood lingering heavily around him, along with the buzzing aura of excess cursed energy leaking into the cold air around him. 

“Welcome home, Lord Sukuna.” He purrs at how you prostrate yourself at his feet, always so satisfied with your absolute submission. He once told you your lack of fear was something intriguing, your unwavering adoration far more interesting than submission borne of fear. It’s something he’s found in so few of his followers and you imagine it’s why he shows such preference for Uraume’s company. Of all of your husband’s subordinates, they are by far the most devout. Perhaps even more than you because they know what Lord Sukuna is trying to achieve with all the calamity he causes. Your lord husband has never made you privy to that knowledge, and as a good wife you remember it is not your place to ask. If you are meant to know something, he’ll tell you. 

“Get out.” His voice is thick with something akin to revulsion, though you don’t bother to raise your head. Lord Sukuna hasn’t spoken to you so gruffly since you first proved your devotion to him. Behind you there’s the sound of frantic movements as your maid assumedly makes herself scarce in the presence of her master. When she’s gone Lord Sukuna gives you permission to lift your head. In the low light, you can hardly see his face. It’s hard to tell Lord Sukuna’s mood even in bright lighting. He hardly changes from his stoic expression unless there’s blood being spilled, then a smile–more like a deranged baring of his fanged teeth–finds its way onto his face. 

“Come bathe with me.” He doesn’t wait for you to react, already halfway down the engawa by the time you gather yourself enough to stand. Lord Sukuna traverses the estate with practiced ease, as if this was his childhood home and not all place of residence usurped from some affluent family. Though the perks of Lord Sukuna’s minions commandeering such a luxurious home for their leader and his family are the accommodations afforded to only the highest nobility. Because only families with more money than time to spend it can afford to build their home large enough to encompass a hot spring along with all the other necessary land. The air is humid around the bathhouse, curtained with steam as clouds of warm air seep out of the secluded space. 

Lord Sukuna stands expectantly at the edge of the rocks surrounding the steaming pool, waiting for you to fulfill your wifely duties. With great haste you begin to undress him. His kimono is ruined beyond repair, delicate white silk tattered and stained with browning patches of blood. Still, you take great care in folding each article as it’s removed from his body. There’s no added layers despite the inclement weather, no added underclothes beneath the outer layer of clothing. Your hands reach skin sooner than you expected, flinching away from the warmth of his muscles as if his skin were an open flame. Despite your status as his wife and your consequently intimate knowledge of his body, you still err on the side of caution when it comes to touching Lord Sukuna. He had only asked you to undress him, not to run your fingers over the corded muscles of his arms. Luckily, your husband seems unconcerned with the wayward touch. Instead of snapping at you he rolls his shoulders as if the layers of clothes had been restricting his movements. In all likelihood, they probably have. 

Lord Sukuna is something that is no longer human. A higher being ascended beyond the physicality of a normal man, as if his body could no longer handle the brunt of his power and needed to evolve to fit the newly emerging shape of his soul. Once, before you first laid eyes upon him, Lord Sukuna had the appearance of a mere man. An unremarkable face and body. But now he has become something beyond the shape of a human. “A two faced demon with four arms,” as the members of your clan had called him when talks of appeasing the great King of Curses began whispering through the halls of your maiden home. Of course his rumored differences held no bearing on whether or not the clan would be willing to sacrifice a bride to satisfy the Disgraced One. His four eyes and black markings make no difference to your devotion. He is still the husband you’ve dedicated your life to. 

Tentatively, you try to strike up a conversation as Lord Sukuna settles himself in the warm pool. “Has Fourth Mistress arrived yet?” 

“Yes, she arrived before I did. I expected you to be with the others, fawning over her. Why weren’t you?” His tone is calculated as if he is trying to decide if there is cause for punishment. Your next words are chosen carefully. 

“First Mistress did not think–it was requested that I not attend to Fourth Mistress’ arrival.” 

“Are you not my wife?” Lord Sukuna asks, annoyance thick in his tone. Of course you are. In this life you are nothing if not his wife. “I expect that you’ll act your part. The lady of the house is meant to greet guests upon their arrival. I don’t care what Jurina says. You’re of noble birth. You know the rules on how to conduct yourself. Act like it.” 

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my lord, but I am not the lady of the house. That is First Mistress Jurina’s title.” To go against your husband’s word is wrong, reason enough for him to lash out at you, but it is the truth that Jurina is always reminding you of. She is First Mistress, the matron of the estate. It is you that is a lowly concubine in comparison to her status as a legal wife. Lord Sukuna bristles at your insolence and you duck your head to receive your reproach. He’s a short distance away, submerged to his waist in the warm water, but Lord Sukuna can move like a striking snake. It would only take half a beat of your heart for him to reach you and tear it from your chest if he so desires it. 

Tonight’s admonishment is far less violent. Coming in the form of a disparaging growl before he snaps at you to undress. You do so with the same care that you disrobed your husband. As his wife, you are an extension of him, and you dare not mistreat his items in his presence. Once your clothes are folded you approach Lord Sukuna with hesitant steps. You’ve discovered that drowning and burning are the worst means of death and the boiling water of the hot spring is a combination of both. Still, if tonight will be wasted on death, at least it will come in Lord Sukuna’s arms. He reaches to help you into the water, drawing you close while his second pair of arms stay splayed on the rocks behind him. He moves you as he pleases like a doll being perched on a shelf, positioning you to straddle his thigh. 

“Look at me, woman.” His tone doesn’t sound angry, but that has never been a successful way to guess at Lord Sukuna’s intentions. He can execute someone with a smile. You hope he’ll offer you that same cruel grin when he pushes hot beneath the bubbling water. 

“I do not care what order I married any of you in. It should be clear by now that you are the woman of this house. First or third, it doesn’t matter. Jurina’s words hold no weight over you. Do I make myself clear?” There’s a franticness to the way you nod your head, chirping out a pinched “yes, Lord Sukuna!” as he holds your chin to keep your eyes on his. 

“You’re the only wife that matters to me, stupid woman. The rest,” he scoffs, “I wouldn’t spit down their throats even if their lungs were on fire. Even the new one. Jurina is nothing and no one. I will kill her right now if it will please you.” 

And that had been the original crux of Jurina’s jealousy. The priority with which Lord Sukuna always seemed to treat you. There were always rumors about the estate that you are the favored wife, the one that truly matters, but it is hard to believe rumors when Lord Sukuna hardly does anything to validate them. Though his constant quelling of his temper in your presence should be evidence enough. It’s a rare thing for your husband to lash out at you, but you always assumed it was simply because you were careful with your actions. Never giving him any reason to turn his ire against you. It’s plain to see now that the reason for your persisted well treatment is simple. You are his favorite wife. 

Possessive as he is, Lord Sukuna has favorites in everything. Cursed weapons that he favors over all others, and servants that he calls on more often than the rest. To know you hold weight among his most precious possessions is dizzying. Of course, to Lord Sukuna, a favorite thing is a useful thing. It’s easy to imagine that you’re the most useful of his four wives. Neither of your seniors have remarkable cursed techniques despite hailing from quite notable families in the hierarchy of the jujutsu world. And any technique they do possess is woefully untrained as is expected of women in the world of sorcery. Women of jujutsu-laden clans are meant to be vessels from which the next generation of male sorcerers are born, not taught to be sorcerers in their own right. 

It was only by a terrible coincidence that you were able to train your own technique. A jealous cousin and a well. A harsh push to your back after she whispered about how she should be the one to marry first despite her inferior talents as a homemaker. She got her wish, the husband she so covetously desired. Last you heard she’d been returned to your family’s estate after being set aside for a more fitting woman. 

When she pushed you, falling felt like flying and dying felt like burning as your lungs filled with water. In the end you’d spent nearly a week at the bottom of that seldom used well, floundering for your life as your cursed technique kept you in a constant loop of dying and reviving, bursting back to life stronger than when you died. Chrysalis is what your family had taken to calling your ability when you were finally fished out with a bucket of water. Death was something impermanent to you, though the manner of which you passed holds bearing on how long you’ll be stuck in your “cocooned” state. You imagine being killed by means of jujutsu would kill you properly, forever, but no one has been bold enough to try. Certainly not now that you are a treasured wife of the King of Curses. Though you’re sure Lord Sukuna will kill you eventually, when your purpose has been served. For now, it seems your purpose is to provide him with the comforts a wife can offer her husband. 

“Kiss me.” He commands, hand on your jaw already pulling you towards him. There’s never been anything delicate about Lord Sukuna as far as you could tell. He’s always had an air of harshness to him, something wild and untamed that bleeds into his every movement. You’ve decided it must be because he lives the same as you, unimpeded by the world around him. The King of Curses bows to nothing and no one, so why should he govern himself by the laws and morals of humanity. Kindness, restraint, it doesn’t seem to exist to your lord husband. The same way fear no longer exists to you. So when Lord Sukuna’s hand–large enough to hold your head in his palm–pulls you towards his fanged mouth, you feel nothing but unadulterated lust. It’s unbecoming of a woman to find herself so lost in her bodily whims but you’re no longer just a woman. You’re Lord Sukuna’s woman, and within the walls of his home, shame no longer exists. You melt against him as his sharp teeth find the softness of your lips. Blood spills between your open mouths, dripping down your bodies before dripping into the water with a soft tinge of pink. 

“Sweet,” he hums. 

It’s no secret that Lord Sukuna is prone to fits of bloodlust so blinding he’ll tear his teeth into anything soft he can find, no matter the origin of the flesh. Animal or human it’s all the same when he’s tearing his claws through a warm body. He’s mentioned sampling your body once. How he’s thought about tearing off bits and pieces of you to taste. Of course, he told you that he would only maim you in such a way as punishment for misbehavior–it hardly matters when death would only find you mended and made anew–though it hasn’t stopped him from sinking his teeth into you when he’s wrapped up in another kind of lust.

Usually imperceptible if you aren’t looking for it, the only sign of Lord Sukuna’s arousal stands proudly between your legs, so large they breach the surface of the water as he holds you steady in his lap. His upper arms are still splayed out on the stone behind him as he reclines as if he is seated on a throne. He’s shown you what a throne fit for the King of Curses would look like, but only once. In his domain. An infinite wasteland bathed in blood with a single shrine standing at its heart. A corrupted chinjusha of flesh and bone. All gaping maws and cracked skulls. A shrine dedicated to the only higher power Lord Sukuna will ever respect; himself. The strange mouth splitting a seam between his muscles always reminds you of his Malevolent Shrine, of the four grotesque mouths that stand where the four doors of a shrine would be. Its tongue is strangely textured, like that of a cat’s as it lolls out of his stomach to lap at your skin. Sometimes you find yourself wondering if Lord Sukuna has control over the appendage or if it acts of its own volition each time the grainy feeling drags over your body, but it isn’t your place to ask. Who has control or not, it doesn’t matter. Lord Sukuna is your husband and you relish even the smallest touch whether it’s intentional or not. 

“Are you going to please your husband?” He asks. The answer is always simple. Yes. It is your sole purpose now that he’s taken you as his wife and torn your world into the smallest pieces until only this single scrap remains. It’s becoming so precious no matter how small and defaced it becomes. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you stepped out of line. Tried to leave the estate, tried to defy Lord Sukuna. In truth, you’ll never know. Your husband is your world and your world is your husband. Of course you will do everything within your power to please him. He seems satisfied with just the look in your eyes as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. If it would please him you’d slash yourself open, spill your innards into his lap and watch him feast on your flesh. His true wish is far more gentle, something a more humble husband would ask of his bride. 

“Touch me.” His clawed hand is already guiding yours to his stiffness, wrapping your fingers over the length of him. It’s so strange that curses can bleed, but Lord Sukuna isn’t exactly a curse nor is he a human. He’s something more but his heart beats just the same. You feel it in your palm as his cock twitches in your grip, thick veins thrumming under his skin. Perhaps it’s the water or more likely it’s something innate to your husband because he always feels hot to the touch, his skin is nearly scalding as you wrap your hands around his twin cocks, fingers spread too wide to touch around his girth. Lord Sukuna looks pleased as he leans back, eyes watching you as if to catch a flaw in your presentation. A rogue frown or unintended scowl that would prove your supposed dedication false. 

Even after so long he’s waiting for you to break, to truly realize what you’re doing and be disgusted enough to shrink away. The only thing you feel at this moment is heady arousal. It pools like molten lava deep in your stomach, seeping between your legs and into the water. There’s been no permission given so you remain still, but your hips ache to shift against the strength of Lord Sukuna’s chiseled thigh, to relieve a bit of the tension his lingering gaze has caused. But his hand hasn’t strayed from your hip, in fact his grip has tightened with each stroke of your hands. There’s a stinging bite as his claws dig through your skin, burying deep enough to draw blood despite the composure still set in stone on his face. He is still a man in some regard. Still a husband enjoying the touch of his wife. The thought blooms sweetly in your chest, lifting a soft smile to your lips. Lord Sukuna notices in an instant, four eyes still trained on your face. He snatches your chin up, straining your neck with how quickly he guides your eyes towards his. 

“What are you smiling about, brat?” Another attempt to catch you in a lie, to find some falsehood in your contentment. Even your lord husband finds himself questioning if your happiness is true. You thumb over the head of one of his cocks, bringing the taste to your lips. And because he is watching you so intensely you make a coquettish show of dragging your tongue over the pad of your finger, gasping when Lord Sukuna’s fingers bury deeper into your delicate skin. There will be cuts and bruises when he’s done with you. There always are. Then your maid–or, on some occasions, Uraume–will come to tend to your body marked by your husband’s touch. You like the way your body burns when he’s through with you, memories of his touch simmering in your mind. He scoffs when you wrap your lips around your thumb. With a cruel smile he hooks his own thumb into your mouth, talon scraping against your tongue as he pulls your jaw until your mouth is as wide as you can bear with only the slightest twinge of pain. 

Drool pools in your mouth, dripping out of the corners as they sting with the strain of Lord Sukuna’s strength. He sneers, looking pleased with the mess you’re making as he leans down to lick it up before spitting it back into your open mouth. You nearly choke and rush to swallow with a rattling cough. It tastes like blood, likely your own though you wonder if your husband sank his teeth into something before coming to you. The blood on his clothes looked dry, though you can never be certain with Lord Sukuna. You banish the thought, thrilled with the way he no longer seems to be dividing his focus. 

Before he had looked uninterested, as if his mind was elsewhere even as he looked at you servicing him so happily. Now he’s leaned in close enough for you to see his eyelashes, a rare treat with his immense stature. He’s nearly all you can see, all you can feel and you revel in it as your world shrinks to this tiny pinprick. There’s nothing outside this bathhouse. Only the infinite nothingness that surrounds a domain. The world could come apart outside these four walls and you wouldn’t care as long as Lord Sukuna keeps you in his arms. As if he knows your thoughts, the very deepest desires of your heart, Lord Sukuna drags you up his leg by the hand still embedded in the fat of your hips and the feeling sings through your body as your clit catches against the firmness of his thigh. Your hands tighten around his cocks still pulsing in your hands, though his only reaction is the slightest twitch of his lip. 

“Am I doing a good job, Lord Sukuna?” You ask around his thumb, truly desperate for approval. If you were any more pitiful he might’ve pet your hair like a loyal hound. Instead he laughs, something short and sardonic as his teeth nip at your cheek. Warmth blooms then drips down the curve of your face and you know he’s broken skin once more. 

“Enough with the stupid questions. If you want my praise you know how to earn it. Show me how badly you want it and I might reward your efforts.” You slip from his lap, mourning the loss of his leg pressing between yours as you kneel in the water. It’s up to your neck as your knees meet the bottom of the pool, steam billowing like a veil in front of your eyes as you center yourself at the apex of Lord Sukuna’s thighs. He’s spread out above you like a proud effigy, a statue meant to be worshiped. You feel a transcendent kind of devotion kneeling at the feet of your lord husband. The taste of him lands heavy on your tongue as your lips tease at the head of his dick, swallowing him in slow increments. Despite the harsh preparation of your mouth, you still wish to savor every moment spent servicing your husband. 

His face is clouded in shadows again as he leans back, head tilted towards the ceiling. The lanterns flicker playful shadows across his body, highlighting and shrouding pieces of him as you bow to take him into your mouth in earnest. Your jaw still aches from the way he nearly unhinged it, but it works in your favor as your lips wrap around his length. 

There’s nothing dignified about the way you’re swallowing his dick, little focus being allotted to your own comfort as you take him as deeply as his size will allow. His body is strange, of course, but it’s all you’ve ever known of a man. Aside from Lord Sukuna you’ve never seen any man bared beyond his chest, although you know innately that humans aren’t meant to have the endowments he does. His second cock presses against your cheek, dribbling over your skin as you hollow your cheeks until Lord Sukuna’s thighs twitch. Muscles seizing tighter as the head of his cock meets the tightness of your throat. Breathing is far from your mind, a need secondary to pleasing your husband. It’s a messy endeavor and you loathe to think of how terrible you must look. It’s always been a point of pride to preen yourself to perfection because husbands like their women to look beautiful when they arrive home, or at least Lord Sukuna seems to prefer it. Though he never seems bothered by what is surely a horrid display as split slicks down your chin and tears dot along your lash line as you gag around his dick. 

Lord Sukuna flicks your forehead after a while, likely drawing another scratch between your brows. It’s a fraction of his power. It’s likely he could take your head apart as easily as squashing a peach under his heel yet he hardly puts effort behind the reproach. Only enough to draw your attention as he drags you, coughing and drooling, off of his cock. They’re both gathered into one fist so he can drag the taste of his leaking precum over your parted lips. 

“You know better.” Lord Sukuna does not take things in half measures. His intentions are clear. If you’re going to pleasure him, do it right and do it well. Your jaw pops open again, wide enough to take his twin cocks into your mouth. He stretched and strained your mouth but there’s only so much that can be done with the sheer size of him. And while he does well to shield his thoughts at the best of times, you imagine he must be gleaning a fair bit of pleasure from your messy sucking as his hand remains in your hair. His claws scratch against your scalp, gentle enough to keep your skin intact as he keeps your mouth wrapped around him. A burning type of exertion settles painfully in your jaw but you’ll endure. Lord Sukuna never likes to keep you like this for long. With both of his weeping cocks tangled between your lips you can hardly take more than the head of each. In the end, his preference will always be the wet heat brewing between your legs. Another bout of pain sings through your scalp as Lord Sukuna pulls your mouth away from him, leaving threads of spit dripping between your bodies. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, pressing against the grooves where his teeth bit into your skin until they begin to bleed anew.

He manipulates your body as if you’re merely a puppet dancing on strings. A flex of his arm and you’re lifting off your knees, hips stretched wide to accommodate the width of his body between them. His spit-laden cocks are pressed between your bodies, grinding into the soft expanse of your stomach as he pulls your bleeding mouth to his. He suckles at your torn skin, humming at the taste of your blood seeping onto his tongue. His hands find your hips, pressing into the marks he’s already left there as he hikes you higher against his body. The tongue lolling out of his stomach finds its way between your thighs, lapping at the mess that’s left after the water washed away the first wave of your arousal. It’s nearly too much with how textured the wide appendage is but you welcome any type of relief you can find as Lord Sukuna pulls your head to the side quick enough to send a stinging twinge up the column of your neck. The pain is only intensified as he noses against the soft curve where your neck meets your shoulder, as if he’s looking for something. 

His tongue sweeps over your skin before his fanged teeth make a home in it. There’s a rippling groan that thunders in his chest as a true taste of your blood spills into his mouth. Before long, your head is spinning from blood loss. Lord Sukuna must feel the change in your pulse as it turns slippery, harder to catch beneath your skin. He pulls away with a satisfied groan as his hands press your hips deeper into the expanse of his lower tongue. 

“Enjoying yourself, brat?” Lord Sukuna sneers, and because you have no sense of shame you find yourself nodding earnestly. He’s hardly touched you and what touches he’s shared have been steeped in equal parts pain and pleasure, yet you’ve enjoyed it all the same. It’s awkward and teasing because there’s no tact to the way his lower tongue moves between your legs. It’s like striking a flint without starting a fire, dull sparks of teasing pleasure that leave you wanting more. You’d rather have his face between your legs and a more dexterous tongue teasing you to the edge, but it would be presumptuous to make any kind of demands of your husband especially when he’s a man like Lord Sukuna. 

In most regards, your pleasure is incidental. Secondary to his own. So when his teeth snap over his claws, biting the sharp points into flattened nubs, you feel your excitement growing. He’s learned from experience that his rough treatment of your body should not extend to certain places. After only a few times he pressed his clawed fingers inside you, Lord Sukuna learned that it would better serve him if his nails were dulled before he went poking them inside you. And they’ll be grown back to full length by night’s end. He can manipulate the shape of his body as easily as fire melting snow. His hand smooths over the side of your body, sliding against your ribs and hips as he makes his way between your legs. His fingers plunge inside with little warning, forcing you open with a swiftness you could almost call desperation. If something so undignified could ever be said about the King of Curses. 

Lord Sukuna is a behemoth, dwarfing you in every regard, and his hands are no different. His fingers reach deep inside you, stroking over the place that has your back bowing as he makes space for himself inside you. He hums at how easily you take his fingers, sounding somewhere between amused and approving. It flutters through your chest and settles atop the arousal already building inside you. 

“Give your body to me, woman. Open yourself to your king.” You try to say something as he slips another finger inside you but it comes out as little more than a breathy whine. This is already too much and yet it can’t compare to how full you’ll feel when he gets his cocks inside you. His fingers are a luxury offered in preparation for his true reward and you take it happily. He smirks at the way your thighs strain as you try to grind against his touch. The heel of his hand is pressed tight against your clit and you buck your hips against the feeling. Lord Sukuna’s skin is thick, nothing like the softness of your own and it feels just the right amount of rough against your clit. One of Lord Sukuna’s hands finds your hair again, yanking hard until you’re looking up at him with tears shimmering in your vision. 

“There’s my spoiled brat. This is how you act. This is how the wife of a king is meant to be. Take what you want, woman, take everything I give you.” A dark laugh booms through the room as you whine and paw at Lord Sukuna’s chest. He adds another to the litany of scratches decorating your skin as his teeth nip at your neck, distracting you from the sting of another finger finding its way inside you. 

“You were made for this,” he reminds you. “Made to be mine. My bride. You can take it.” He sounds almost patronizing, voice softening to a teasing lilt as his thumb presses against your clit. Like with everything, Lord Sukuna is harsh, forcing you to the edge quicker than expected. Each curl of his fingers yanks at the string tightening inside you, pulling you closer and closer to the edge as he moves his hands with inhuman speed inside you. Everything is hard and fast and your thighs start to tremble in his hold, body shivering as Lord Sukuna all but wrings the orgasm out of your body. You clench hard around his fingers, pussy dripping down your thighs as you try to steady yourself with your hands on Lord Sukuna’s shoulders. He allows it, revels in it as he pulls you into another bloody kiss. But even as you tremble in his arms, Lord Sukuna doesn’t stop. His thumb is still circling your twitching bud even as you try to whine out a plea for mercy. It only brings a fanged smile to his lips. 

“Take it,” he grunts, “I know you can.” It really feels like you can’t. The tension brought on by your orgasm hasn’t dispersed and you feel like a knot being pulled ever tighter, back curling until your face is buried against his chest. He smells like the bath. Like sweet oils and wildflowers as your nose is buried against his scalding skin. With your forehead pressed against his chest your eyes have nowhere to look but down. Down at the way his cocks are straining to be touched, flushed and leaking just out of reach. You look up to distract yourself with the black markings etched into Lord Sukuna’s chest. Your kisses are sloppy, wet and open-mouthed as your tongue peeks out to trace the shape of each tattoo. It’s not until your teeth begin to nip at his chest that Lord Sukuna scruffs you once more. 

“Trying to leave a mark on me, brat?” As if you could. Your teeth are likely no different than trying to pierce his skin with a blade of grass. “What a greedy little bride I have. So eager to defer to another wife’s authority when you’re this possessive of your husband. Isn’t that right, woman?” You try to shake your head. Of course, you aren’t possessive of him, you know your place. You are the Third Mistress. Perhaps you are his favorite but there is a hierarchy that must be upheld in the household. To so brazenly try to claim full authority over your lord husband would be lunacy. There is no higher authority than the King of Curses himself. You’re simply a pebble lingering in the shadow of the highest mountain. 

“Yes you are,” he grins. You whine as he pulls his hand from between your legs. “Look at the mess you’ve made trying to mark me up like a bitch in heat.” There’s no sense of embarrassment welling at his degrading words. What sense is there in hiding how well your husband pleasures you? And Lord Sukuna seems proud as his tongue licks up the mess you’ve made on his hand before pressing a kiss to your parted lips. You taste yourself on his tongue. Your blood and your pleasure. 

“You’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?” It’s hardly a question. Simply an ordered phrased as if you could deny yourself the feeling of being split open on Lord Sukuna’s cocks. He starts with one, always. Dragging the leaking head through the mess he’s made of your cunt, tapping against your clit until he finally presses inside. His body is a marvel and you’re blessed to be so acquainted with it as the length not pressing inside you grinds against your clit as he makes you take him as deep as your body will allow. Lord Sukuna has been known to be rash and unpredictable, a being of pure chaos when the mood strikes him, but when he’s with you like this everything he does is deliberate. 

He’s rough but not destructively so. Yes, you’re bleeding as he bounces you in his lap, drawing a litany of breathless sounds from your lips, but he’s always intentional when drawing blood. You’ve been trained well in these years of marriage to take him. To weather any storm Lord Sukuna throws at you. His hands are bruising on your hips as he drags you up and down his length, hands that could shatter your bones with the slightest bit of effort and yet he only uses enough strength to hold you close. You’re not deluded enough to think that Lord Sukuna loves you, certainly not in the way a lover should, but he cares enough to treat you with a level of gentility. 

“Thank you,” you babble it like a prayer, over and over. Worshiping at your husband’s altar for even the briefest thought given to your safety, your pleasure. It can never be said that Lord Sukuna is a neglecting lover, at least not with you. He’s everywhere all at once. Hands on your hips and at your breasts, pinching at the aching peaks of your nipples. His face is buried against your throat, teeth surely raising welts as his tongue laps at the taste of blood and sweat dampening your skin. You cling to him in turn, nails digging into the thick muscles of his arms with no hope of ever drawing blood. Still, he grunts out a laugh as you drag your dull nails across his skin, leaving nothing but the whisper of claw marks behind. An arm slips out from under your grasp, unbalancing you, but Lord Sukuna is quick to steady your boneless body as he reaches between you to take hold of his second cock. It’s thick and straining, leaking against your skin as he presses it in beside the first. The stretch is harsh, a stinging pinch between your legs soothed only in part by his thumb drawing shapes against your clit. He hushes you when your whining gets too loud, hands clamping tight to your hips to keep you from squirming away from taking all of him.

“Be a good wife and accept your reward.” Lord Sukuna hisses as he presses deep inside you. The weight of him settles like molten heat inside you, his hand pressing over the shape of himself through your stomach. “Hush, you can take it.” He hisses, biting at your cheek as tears well in your eyes once more. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a strange feeling to be so full all at once. 

“My pretty wife.” He’s only this sweet when he has you close to breaking, teetering on the edge of insanity from the way he’s taking his pleasure from your body. “Look at me, woman. Keep your eyes on your king.” It’s hard to look anywhere else. He isn’t sweating, this is hardly more than a leisurely stroll for him, but the humidity has left his skin beaded with moisture. It makes him shimmer in the torchlight like the divine being that he is, wasting his time on a creature as lowly as you. It’s your blessing that he’s so enraptured with you at the moment. Your eyes slip shut, tears streaming down your cheeks as every corner of your body feels lit aflame, the heat only made worse as Lord Sukuna’s hand finds your jaw. 

“I said, eyes. On. Me.” He growls. With a bit of resistance, your eyes flutter open, white light swimming at the edge of your vision as Lord Sukuna drags you to the precipice of insanity. He’s close. Far less careful and coherent as he drags you up and down his lengths with startling strength. He’s pressing against every sweet spot inside you, igniting a thousand flames at once that threaten to swallow you whole. There’s a pitchy mantra of “wait, wait, wait” playing on your tongue but it only seems to further entice your husband. 

“You gonna sing for me, woman? Go on, let me hear something pretty when you come for your king.” He’s taunting you, laughing at how shrill your voice sounds. It nearly does sound like you’re singing as you wail his name, back bowing as he rips another orgasm from your spent body. It’s as quick as a lightning strike and nearly as blinding, eyes clouding white for a moment as you fight to keep your eyelids from fluttering. From taking your eyes off Lord Sukuna for even a moment. You feel yourself clawing at him, clinging and grasping to keep yourself grounded as pleasure shatters through your body. Vaguely you can hear Lord Sukuna laughing, something tinged dark with amusement as he works you through your orgasm. He has no patience to wait for you to regain your breath, to see the light of coherence return to your eyes. Instead, his hands grip tighter to your waist, nails biting into your skin as he works you faster over his cocks. His voice dips low, a rasping gravel as he grunts, squeezing every bit of his own pleasure from your body. It’s barely a change, just the slightest shift, but you’ve done this so many times that you can almost sense when he gets close. 

Lord Sukuna gathers your loosening muscles back into some semblance of an embrace, holding you tight to his chest as he pushes your hips low enough for your bodies to meet in earnest. The feeling is a wet slide of skin against skin, the mess of your joined pleasure slicking up your bodies. It nearly feels like choking as he holds you still, the shape of him pressing every so slightly against the softness of your stomach. He’s more gentle now, but only by a hair’s breadth, as he thumbs over the shape of his body making a home for itself inside yours. There’s always a hint of softness at the edges of moments like this. A bit of the darkness bleeds from Lord Sukuna’s eyes as he guides your hips to grind against him, thumbing where he sees himself beneath your skin. Lord Sukuna has always been smart, his intelligence far exceeding that of your woefully undereducated mind. 

There’s never been a time where you were certain of his thoughts, but in moments like these you think there’s a hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Something desirous of the unknown and intangible. He moves in shallow thrusts, thumb dancing lazily over your puffy clit for only a moment more before he’s spilling inside you with a satisfied groan. But, still, he keeps you there. As if forcing your body to take to everything he’s given you. If it were up to you, your womb would quicken to give him a child; proof of your devotion. But even the fantasy sounds impossible. Lord Sukuna has shed his humanity and with it, you assume, his ability to continue his legacy by way of heirs. Though he hardly needs them. 

Lord Sukuna is a shining beacon of the height of jujutsu, proof of what greatness can be achieved when you’re willing to go beyond the standards set out by society. He’s immortal, indomitable. Children would only be another jewel in his crown, more pawns to serve his greater will. And it’s unlikely such children of greatness will ever come to pass. In all your years of marriage, there’s never been a single moment where you thought for even a moment that Lord Sukuna’s seed took. And it likely never will. It’s wasted as he lifts you off of his softening length, everything he gave you dripping out into the spring water. The light flickers and for a moment it almost looks like there’s a spark of disappointment in his eye, then the torches shift again and the shadows are gone.

“You did well, woman.” He hums, running his hands over the length of your body. The heat of his palms and the babbling water works to soothe the aches and pains of being so thoroughly used by your behemoth of a husband. “Who do you love, wife?” He asks after the breath finally returns to your lungs. Of course it’s him. There is no one else. No man could compare, like a pebble being compared to a shining jewel. 

“Good girl.” He says when you’ve finished your babbling. Like a true king, Lord Sukuna loves to hear his own praises and you’re more than happy to sing them. Sometimes it’s startling how perfectly the two of you exist together. He’s the sun and you’re a flower turning your face to gaze upon him always. Which of his other wives could ever share in a fraction of your devotion? No one will ever love Lord Sukuna as you do, save for maybe Uraume. Perhaps they don’t love him, but there is a fine line between love and admiration. The loyal servant comes bustling into the bathhouse after Lord Sukuna has had his fill of soft caresses and breathless praises. 

The fact that both of you are bare makes no difference to Uraume. They lift you from Lord Sukuna’s arms with startling strength, hands frigid against your skin as they guide you to sit and go about drying your body and combing your hair. It’s always strange to be tended to by someone other than your personal maid, more so when it’s by the hands of Lord Sukuna’s most trusted servant, but it seems Uraume sees you as an extension of Lord Sukuna as much as you do. They dry and dress you, sending you back to your room so that they may speak privately with your husband. Some time later when the bells of the estate are tolling for the Hour of the Dog, the strumming of your koto is interrupted further by screaming. Something bloodcurdling terrified as it rings through the house, echoing into the snow speckled night. Vaguely you think of how the screaming sounds like First Mistress Jurina. 

[pforestsims]

Three more add-ons for table light I've shared at MTS2. I've sorted out alpha blending issues and also tweaked the main mesh shape (it's more smooth - 890 poly - but you can keep the old one if you wish).

Wicker Lantern Set updated

25.06.2024 - fixed square outdoor shadows

Download (SFS) polycounts 610 - 980

Includes old & new recolors (light wicker and brown)

Enjoy!

These use shoji lamp light settings but you can change it to something else.

*this is for The Sims 2

[wanderingsimsfinds]

WanderingSims Fave CC - Traditional Asian Décor List

1 - simbalances - Ohara Koson Prints

2 - ziggy28 - Virtue Asian Character Paintings (TSR)

3 - WanderingSims - Japan Wall Art

4 - chuchuwitch - Asian Paintings

5 - baufive - Flock of Woodcuts

6 - BionicZombie - 4t3 Snowy Escape Paintings

7 - baufive - Japanese Woodcuts

8 - LCC - Chinese Scroll Claborate Style Painting

9 - Devirose - Japanese Ideograms 1 (TSR)

10 - Devirose - Japanese Ideograms 2 (TSR)

11 - Devirose - Japanese Prints Collection (TSR)

12 - Devirose - Japanese Print 1 (TSR)

13 - Devirose - Japanese Print 2 (TSR)

14 - Devirose - Japanese Print 3 (TSR)

15 - Devirose - Japanese Art Collection 2 (TSR)

16 - ziggy28 - Japanese Scenes (TSR)

17 - Devirose - Japanese Art Collection 3 (TSR)

18 - Devirose - Japanese Manuscript (TSR)

19 - ziggy28 - Large Asian Cats Scroll (TSR)

20 - linasometimes - Wisteria & Blossom Paintings (TSR)

21, 25, 33, 37 - you-lust - Vaguely Japanese Pt. 1 Set (Eastern Blossoms Scroll, Blades of Masamune Wall, Japanese Cantankerous Splatter Painting, Zen Bonsai)

22, 32 - Kilhian - Japanese Painting Birds & Sea

23 - ohymysims - Painting Katsushika Hokusai

24, 27, 39-40, 52, 61 - you-lust - Vaguely Chinese Pt. 2 Set (Huabanzhu Chinese Scroll, Yuxi Winter Blossoms Scroll, MTSims Chinese Burner, The Daruma Wishing Doll, Yuxi Bamboo Slip, Shoyou Shoji Screen)

26 - MurfeeL - Wall Scrolls w/Tassels

28, 41, 70 - MurfeeL - Birthday 2020 Dump (EA WA EP Vintage Chinese Ads Framed, AMR Fan Decor Redone, Lacquer Byobu Decor)

29 - Living Dead Girl - Benjamin Bedroom Artwork Asian (TSR)

30, 38, 51, 54, 63 - you-lust - Vaguely Chinese Pt. 1 Set (Yuxi Tokonoma Series Scroll, The Little Jug of Wishes, Yuxi Dragon Scroll, Yuxi Scroll Clutter, Yuxi Ixinqin Screen)

31 - RD - From The East Wall Art

34-35, 50 - you-lust - Vaguely Japanese Pt. 2 Set (Yuxi Haruyo Morita Painting, BBSL Hanging Kimono, WFS Teapot)

36, 65-67 - KerriganHouseDesigns - Hayashi Set (Wallpanel, Floor Lamp, Golden Branch, Screen)

42-43 - you-lust - Azaya Fortune Cat & Higanbana Kokeshi Doll

44 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 novvvas Desierto Bedroom Buddha

45 - MurfeeL - Yokai E-Hon Books as Decor

46-47 - Ritsuka - Fortunate Cat & Japanese Lucky Cat

48 - Ziva-Sims - SimpleStudio404 Japanese Box Recs

49 - MurfeeL - MTCakestore Chinese Books Stackable

53 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Antique Set Chinese Table Lamp

55 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Sakura Bonsai

56 - you-lust - lisen-nymphy Buddha

57 - NoirandDarkSims - Mitarsi Kitsune

58 - SimpleStudio404 - Japanese Misc Set Emongake Deco

59 - you-lust - simaddict99 Oriental Paper Parasol

60, 68, 71-72, 76-77, 81-82 - TheNumbersWoman - Going Asian Outdoor Garden Set (Pagoda, Rock Path 2, Rock Path 1, Fountain, Ying Yang Garden, Water Feature, Deco Bridge Large, Apris Rocks Ponds) (TSR)

62 - Devirose - Japan Rug 1 (TSR)

64 - Angela - Kanto Garden Gong (TSR)

69, 73-75 - MurfeeL - C2077 Dashi no Matsuri Set (Parade Square Table Light, Parade Square Ceiling Light, Parade Round Ceiling Light, Parade Oval Ceiling Light)

78 - SIMCredible! - Asian Nook Fountain (TSR)

79 - DOT - Yard Wire Pole Lantern Mesh (TSR)

80 - SIMCredible! - Momentum Bamboo (TSR)

[coolearistrashcollection]

Prologue: One very inconvenient time

Characters: cult leader!Geto, cursed spirit!Reader TW: isolation, small fight

Part 2 here!

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Geez, are you even listening to what I'm saying? What's up with you this morning huh?” Geto says in an irritated manner. The entire day Gojo has been distracted, wondering why there was something lingering in the air. Of course, no one else could see it, let alone sense it. His Six Eyes picked up even the smallest of details and he was sure someone had been there, and recently.

“See? You are not even registering what I'm saying when I'm telling you to listen! What's got you so distracted, huh?” He asks again, trying to get his friend's attention for the millionth time already that day. “Did you even pay attention to Yaga? He said–”

“He said we're doing it because Kyoto is too weak.” Gojo crosses his arms behind his head and smirks “Which like, duh, even Utahime isn't the same grade as us.”

“That's not even remotely close to what he said…” He sighs “I'll put up the veil, we've reached the forest.” 

The ambience turns darker the more they walk closer to the mission's location. The clouds are concentrating and darkening, the woods are more silent than usual, even the surroundings are trying to warn the approaching two. The harsh caw of a crow as a bad omen snaps the white haired male back to reality. An intimidating pagoda ahead of them presents itself as another bad omen: the wooden tower had weathered tiles and four floors. 

“So like, we just have to retrieve this… What was it again?” Gojo scratches his temple “Not that it matters, it'll be an easy mission anyways…” 

“We're meant to retrieve a burial urn, it's meant to be a cursed object, suspected grade 1.” He states “This is the shrine; it should be here.” 

A scowl appears with the location, the once pristine shrine now rotting away with the passing of time, every type of moss and sign of decay obnoxiously visible. It was unavoidable stepping on cracks, as the stone path had been broken several times from the freeze thaw.

“Focus now, we don't know what curses could have attracted that thing. Remember, dont–”

“Don't kill them, yadda yadda, you wanna eat those curses– can we start looking for that thing already? I'm bored.” Says the white-haired male as he steps into the holy place, the timber floor creaking with every step. 

Before them stand several wooden pillars with tables around the room, the decorations now either rusted or tarnished. The back wall was covered in several different statues: forgotten deities now greeting the sorcerers with an altar serving as a barrier. They formerly served a purpose: protection, sanctuary and peace to the believers. 

Inspecting the holy table more closely, the two see several objects covered in dust and grime, different plates adorned with maggots and remnants of rotten food. “Offerings, probably.” Geto says while adjusting his messy bun “Let's keep moving, it reeks in here.”

From the interior, the height of the building was even more intimidating; the inside balconies highlighting the distance between the floors. Old lanterns were now unlit, waiting for someone to give them their purpose back, allowing darkness to engulf the building. The tall pagoda had cleverly hidden stairs behind the statues, most likely to deter any visitors from going upstairs. Yet another warning completely ignored by the duo to be added to the list. 

“That is it. It's on the top floor” Gojo indicates, quickly followed by pointing at the last floor. “The trace energy matches the one here.” He yawns with boredom.

“What is it?”

“The cursed energy is being emitted from there. It's a lot more recent than the building’s, it's still similar tho.” 

The room is naked, in fact, uncorrupted. The shoji walls as white as snow, the thin paper without any defects; the tatami flooring crispy as if no one had ever stepped on it before, a sage green colour, waiting to turn a sandy yellow. It was a tiny paradise in a putrid place, a piece of heaven in hell. Both males, analysing the situation, realise that neither a person nor curse was seen within stepping foot into the surrounding woods, and this room would need constant maintenance to be in these conditions. Why is this room different? What made it so special compared to the rest? And who is this intruder, the presence Gojo has felt from the beginning? 

However, scattered pieces of white porcelain spoiled the scene, with no particle of ash spilled. Strange, as these are meant to contain ashes, otherwise they would just be expensive and morbid decorations, glorified pieces of clay.

The two look at each other in confusion. That is the cursed object. Or rather, was. They succeeded at locating the object, but returning it to their professor in that condition? That would be a tough ask. A failed mission… that's what it was. They stood dumbfounded at some pieces of pottery. It was long gone, crushed, fragmented, smashed to pieces. Someone had come in earlier and broke the urn they had to retrieve. 

“Well, that sure is one way to break that seal, it was probably older than the higher ups” Gojo looked at his companion with a goofy smile, waiting for what he had to say. “But hey, at least the curse energy matches the one I felt earlier–”

“What do we even tell Yaga!? Wait– you felt there was someone else and didn't care to tell me!?”

“Eh, no biggie. Besides…” he pauses, “It's not like that fragile tupperware was important” another pause, “OH AND– I didn't feel anyone's presence, I simply said it matched outside’s energy.”

“You seriously didn't listen to Yaga, did you? It had to be retrieved at all costs. Intact.” Geto facepalms.

“Nah I didn't, why though?”

“I don't know, he said that it was confidential. Which means we seriously fucked up.” he says with a defeated sigh at the end.

Gojo crouches to look at the cursed energy trail in more detail, the residue parting from the urn, yet none coming in. “Hey uhh.. I don't think someone broke it… No one entered the room" –he adjusts his glasses– “but one left. I think it broke from the inside. Is that even possible?”

“The seal must've expired, then.” Geto places his hand on his chin. “And whatever was inside, got out.” he thinks out loud. 

The black-haired male walks towards the balcony, observing the dense woods surrounding them. How gloomy did the forest look that day, the evergreen trees and the fog in agreement to completely obstruct the sorcerer's view on the field. If anyone had run away, they would not be easily spotted by vision alone, even locating the cursed energy residues would be a hard task.

“You said you felt the same energy outside? Let's trace back our steps, start from there again.” Geto commands.

Rolling his eyes, his friend groans “I totally jinxed it when I said this would be easy.” 

With their anger as a new source of motivation, the duo explored the woods starting from the trail leading to the shrine and followed the steps left by the mysterious being. Minutes quickly turned to hours and the two were almost done traversing the woods: they concluded they were looking out for a curse –a fully conscious one too, as it had changed its path several times to confuse anyone following– and they had reached the gorgeous city of Nara.

After lifting the veil, they walk through the picturesque city. The two sorcerers note many small curses in groups, mostly lower grades and fly heads. They go past a lake too where many deer were either peacefully drinking water or eating crackers from both locals and tourists. In the distance, they notice familiar uniforms: Kyoto students on a mission. 

“Mei-Mei! Utahime!” shouts the white haired male, and a shriek can be heard from the latter “No way! I thought you guys weren't allowed on this mission!” The Tokyo students close the distance, a deja vu. 

Utahime crosses her arms “Shut up Gojo! We just got sent to eliminate some curses that were disturbing the area… a routine call. What are you guys doing here? Tokyo is a long way from here.” She frowns, and emits a sound –close to a growl– when Gojo towers over her with a shit-eating grin.

Geto, trying to ease the tension with a soft smile, interrupts “Sorry to bother you, are you familiar with the city? We need information on the four-floored shrine.”

“Hmm? The mausoleum? I'll help, but only if you give me something in return.” flirts Mei-Mei.

“Gojo will deposit the money in your bank account, we just need to know the local folklore around it. We suspect that a curse escaped from there.”

“So that's why you're here? Well, locals say that building was cursed from the start of construction, they think the grim reaper resides there.” Her arm snakes around Geto's body, her index trailing his shoulder “If you enter, whatever spirit resides there will suffocate you.”

“Fun!” Gojo exclaims and gets his phone out. It's a tan flip phone with stickers and a star charm. Geto will never admit it, but he helped decorate the phone and even gifted Gojo some of those stickers. “I'll send a message to Yaga.”

“And don't forget the money~”

A quick message to Yaga turned into a sermon for the two students, maybe they should not have called their mentor and instead returned to Tokyo with the broken vase, because now they were tasked to follow-up. This also meant they would have to stay at the sister school in Kyoto to minimise travel, which Utahime immediately protested.

And as expected, Gojo complains about this too, but for other reasons. “I cannot believe that we now gotta find this stupid curse.” He crosses his arms and pouts. “Are we there yet?”

“It’s literally been 5 minutes since the train departed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just relax for the rest of the day, then begin this Kyoto-Nara manhunt tomorrow morning.” 

Guess this will be a long ride…

[vraisetzen]

abarenbō shōgun: a brief essay on its filmic devices

i've been watching abarenbō shōgun lately, and while the show is pretty much (if not straight-up) your late-70s, mystery-of-the-week, robin hood-esque storytelling, it does go quite hard with the cinematography in some instances.

this was from the first episode, and i was very impressed with how they framed this sequence. shin and tatsugoro are having a discussion about the girl (whose father has been framed for a crime, no pun intended) through the shutters – she is a point of focus not only for the audience, but for them as well. the frames of the shutters emphasises the distance at which they are commenting on her current situation. it also highlights shin's helplessness in the situation for failing to bring justice to her father as a shōgun going undercover.

this next one reminded me immediately of this iconic moment in buster keaton's the general. it draws the audience directly to the little boy in the foreground. this is very clever framing, because i initially believed the hole to be from a poked shoji door (you know, something kids do).

iris shots have been done to death by this time in silent film, but this one stands out for how it uses a burnt table cloth to draw focus to the subject.

but as the camera pans out, we see that the hole was in fact the door knob/opening – and as the boy moves from the room to the outdoors, the frame emphasises a lost innocence; a kid who was forced to grow up quickly because he was the child of a peasant family.

and this one – here, our three gentlemen are discussing how to arrest a criminal, and all things considered it is not a special shot other than to emphasise shin's real identity as the shōgun. but a closer inspection reveals that the frame is in fact a tōrō/stone lantern, which were used to lined and illuminated the paths of buddhist temples [from wiki]. lit lanterns were also then considered an offering to the buddha.

considering that shin himself is framed where the flame would be (the hibukuro) highlights not only his unique position as the literal fire of this story/show, but also the flame that will usher a new change in the shogunate as tokugawa yoshimune.

[japrestaudes8]

Small Japanese Restaurant Design

The Art of Designing a Small Japanese Restaurant: Crafting an Authentic and Inviting Experience

Introduction

Designing a small Japanese restaurant is a delightful challenge that merges aesthetics with functionality. The goal is to create an ambiance that reflects the rich culture and culinary artistry of Japan while maximizing the efficiency of a compact space. In a small restaurant setting, every element— from the layout and decor to the lighting and furniture— plays a crucial role in shaping the dining experience. This blog post will explore the key considerations and design strategies for creating a small Japanese restaurant that offers both authenticity and comfort.

1. Understanding Japanese Restaurant Aesthetics

Japanese restaurant design is deeply influenced by traditional and contemporary Japanese aesthetics. The core principles include simplicity, harmony, and respect for natural materials. Traditional Japanese design often incorporates elements such as tatami mats, shoji screens, and wooden fixtures, while modern interpretations may blend these with minimalist, sleek lines and innovative materials.

Key Aesthetic Elements:

Simplicity: Japanese design emphasizes clean lines and minimalism. Avoid clutter and focus on essential elements that enhance the dining experience.

Natural Materials: Wood, stone, and bamboo are commonly used. These materials not only add a touch of authenticity but also create a warm and inviting atmosphere.

Harmony: The design should create a balanced and harmonious environment, reflecting the principles of Zen and tranquility.

2. Layout and Space Utilization

In a small Japanese restaurant, effective space utilization is critical. The layout should be designed to maximize seating while maintaining a comfortable and functional environment.

Layout Tips:

Open Floor Plan: An open layout can make a small space feel larger and more inviting. Consider using modular furniture that can be rearranged as needed.

Efficient Seating Arrangements: Utilize a mix of seating options, such as bar stools at a counter and small tables. Tatami seating or low tables can provide an authentic Japanese experience.

Flow and Accessibility: Ensure that the layout allows for smooth movement between tables, the kitchen, and other areas. Avoid creating narrow walkways or obstructing access.

3. Interior Design and Decor

The decor of a Japanese restaurant should evoke the culture and cuisine while remaining true to the restaurant’s concept. Incorporate elements that enhance the ambiance and align with the overall theme.

Decor Ideas:

Lighting: Soft, warm lighting creates a cozy and intimate atmosphere. Consider using pendant lights with traditional Japanese designs or lantern-style fixtures.

Artwork and Accents: Japanese art, such as calligraphy or prints of traditional landscapes, can enhance the decor. Incorporate natural elements like bonsai trees or small water features for added authenticity.

Color Palette: Stick to neutral colors like beige, brown, and grey, accented with muted greens or blues. This creates a serene and balanced environment.

4. Furniture and Fixtures

Selecting the right furniture and fixtures is crucial in a small restaurant. They should be functional yet stylish, contributing to both the aesthetic and practical aspects of the design.

Furniture Considerations:

Tables and Chairs: Opt for furniture that is compact and versatile. Low tables with floor cushions or benches can provide a traditional touch while saving space.

Counter Space: A sushi bar or open kitchen area can serve as both a cooking station and a focal point. Use materials like polished wood or stone for a high-quality appearance.

Storage: Incorporate built-in storage solutions to keep the space organized and clutter-free. Shelving units or cabinets can be used to display dishes, utensils, or decorative items.

5. Incorporating Japanese Cuisine

The design should also reflect the type of cuisine being served. For instance, a sushi restaurant might feature an open kitchen where diners can watch the chefs prepare their meals, while a ramen shop may focus on a more casual, cozy setting.

Cuisine Integration:

Open Kitchen Concept: For sushi or ramen restaurants, an open kitchen design allows diners to engage with the cooking process, enhancing the dining experience.

Specialty Areas: Designate areas for specific functions, such as a sushi bar, ramen counter, or tempura station. This ensures efficient service and adds to the overall authenticity.

6. Creating a Memorable Atmosphere

The atmosphere is crucial in making a small Japanese restaurant stand out. It should be inviting and reflective of Japanese culture, offering a memorable experience for diners.

Atmosphere Enhancements:

Sound: Consider incorporating subtle background music, such as traditional Japanese instrumental music, to enhance the dining experience.

Scent: The aroma of freshly prepared food can be a significant part of the dining experience. Ensure good ventilation and avoid overpowering smells.

Service: Friendly and attentive service is essential in creating a welcoming atmosphere. Train staff to provide excellent service while maintaining the restaurant’s cultural ambiance.

Conclusion

Designing a small Japanese restaurant is an opportunity to blend cultural authenticity with modern design principles. By focusing on aesthetics, layout, decor, and functionality, you can create a space that not only reflects the essence of Japanese dining but also maximizes the potential of a compact area. Whether you're aiming for a traditional ambiance or a contemporary twist, the key is to ensure that every element contributes to a harmonious and memorable dining experience. With thoughtful design and careful planning, your small Japanese restaurant can become a cherished destination for those seeking an authentic taste of Japan.

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Japanese Asian Rice Paper Lamp Shoji Lantern Table Floor Light Wooden Vintage ebay My-Twilight-Smile

[shinobinvku]

The Ryuketsu woman’s estate was indeed old in a traditional sense, possibly a home established during the time of Konoha’s founding, but it was well-loved by its new owner who seems to have restored it to its former glory. Umi guides Kyohi through the house, down a narrow hall dimly lit by lantern light and lined with shoji doors. Once they reach the end of the hall, she slides open a door and invites him inside the sitting room. 

Once they’re inside, Umi wanders to the opposite wall where she slides open another door, leading out to the engawa which wraps around the entire house. The house has no central air conditioning, so opening a door to let the summer breeze in will cool the house down and provide them with a lovely view of the rain and garden pond. At the center of the room is a table and floor cushions. 

“I’ll return in just a moment with your tea, Dear. Please make yourself comfortable while my Lady finishes changing.” 

She leaves Kyohi free to explore the room as he wishes. The back wall is lined with shelves full of books that reach the ceiling, and to the corner is another end table with a vase of flowers and one frame with an old, tattered photograph of a family decked in formal traditional wear. 

“Apologies for the wait,” Chitose murmurs, entering the room in a new set of clothes. 

She gestures to the table.

“Shall we have a seat and chat while we wait for our tea? I believe you had some questions about your father?”

He was learning a lot about the tea he mostly favored because it tasted good. Kyohi never knew there were that many benefits to it--maybe he'd try to find more of it in Konoha, or try making his own.

When arriving at her home, he mostly stood back while the two women spoke, only vaguely listening while he looked around until he was specifically addressed.

"Yes ma'am," but he was already ahead of her on that, already taking off his second shoe. Then he followed her to their destination, once again looking around curiously. The architecture, build, and aesthetic of this home was much different than his mother's home, or even his father's. He wondered how old it might be.

[lowedeus]

“LoscheDay” Gifts

These days we are celebrating a very special date... you know! 

When I tried to build a very special shirine, I discovered a very annouysng bug of a base game table lamp, that I’d plan to use in the unusual way (as outdoor ground light). There was a weird shadow, squared and snapable. 

This is unacceptable!!! So, I made a fix:

Base Game Lamps shadow and bounding mesh fixes

There are not just a lamp, but three bg lamps that have such issues:

- Shoji Table Lantern 

- GentleGlow Table Lamp

- Lunatech Spare Fixture in "Grass"

The shadow issues are caused by the error in node settings (GMND - tsNoShadow block - Items in SimPE). The subsets for the shadow and the lightglow textures have the wrong values, that's why the lamps' outdoor shadows are shaped as squares. Perhaps these lamps are rarely used outdoors, but they could.

The grabability of objects is moderated by the boundig mesh tunings. In the game you can touch/snap the objects by the “hand”, and sensetive area for it is setted by 3d data in the bounding mesh control (GMDC -> Mesh section in SimPE). The bounding meshes of  these lamps include the redundant parts (the shadow subset). Well.. it’s annoyng. So in this part the fixes are the same as in @simnopke​ "Paper Moon" Lamp Glow Fix. If you appreciate the benefits of the nopke’s fix, you will also find my fixes useful.

Conflicts: None that I know of. The mod will conflict with default replacement meshes of Shoji Table Lantern, GentleGlow Table Lamp, or Lunatech Spare Fixture in "Grass", and GMND tuning mods for them (like CEP, but there is no need for it).

DOWNLOAD

Enjoy!

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on Ao3

Rated M

That night, Hannah dreamed she was drowning in a sea of red. Twenty-six little hands pulling her down, down, down, far below the surface until her lungs gave out and she woke up, heart racing, throat dry, clutching her chest to feel it was still beating. A dream, thank God it was only a dream, she thought. But the crinkling of tatami startled her anew and she froze to catch sight of a dark, slender figure gliding across the walls, silhouetted by the amber glow of the lanterns left burning in the hallway. She watched it stumble over a few times, curse under its breath, then emit a sickly groan followed by a cough. She heard the neighboring shoji slide open and close with a “twack,” then the dragging of footsteps, and then finally silence.

Hannah sat there in the dim, attempting to quell her frantically beating heart. She’d made the connection.

Satoru was home from his mission.

As a consequence, the young wife had trouble going back to sleep, tossing and turning on the floor till colorless sunlight filtered through the paper walls. Come morning, Hannah waited for the sound of his footsteps to head their way over to breakfast, but her ears only caught early birdsong and the clattering of dishes. The smell of grilled fish and sesame oil permeated the air. Makoto said breakfast would be ready around eight. It was already a quarter past. Her stomach growling, Hannah rose from her futon to get dressed, opting to wear her old blouse and jeans that were hidden at the bottom of a drawer. She hardly made a dent in her new closet yesterday; trying things on, walking in them, sorting clothes in either a “keep” or “storage” pile. It was a bit ridiculous really. All of them, even the simple frocks, felt too impractical for ordinary life, minus the heels and jewels. Once fully clothed in her usual attire, Hannah plaited a top layer of hair, leaving the remainder to drape down her shoulders, and wordlessly peeped behind her bedroom door, anticipating at any given moment for her obnoxiously handsome neighbor to emerge from the other side. Again, nothing. Perhaps he was already eating without her. Hoping this were true, Hannah parted her door and followed the tantalizing scent of grilled foods to a parlor where Makoto was busy setting fine China on a table. Her kimono was a rejuvenating key-lime green.

“Ohayo, Hannah-sama,” she greeted warmly, placing a pair of chopsticks on the chabudai. “Please, do sit down. I was just about to serve the beef.”

Rubbing the vestiges of sleep from her eyes, Hannah whispered her own “good morning” and knelt at the table.  

“Orange juice?” Makoto held a pitcher of the succulent drink.

“Yes, thank you,” Hannah said with a smile, and separated the lid from a steaming rice bowl, tilting it just a smidge so the excess water didn’t drip off the rim. Makoto poured her a cup of orange juice and disappeared to bring the meat as promised, while Hannah uncovered one dish after the other. Looking at the meal, one would think the housekeeper was trying to outdo herself. Last night’s dinner had been nothing short of delicious; fresh edamame, duck gyoza, and black cod served with miso-yuzu sauce and a slice of raspberry cheesecake for dessert. But for breakfast it was soft-boiled eggs and grilled sweetfish peppered with sansho, along with white rice and cutlets of roast beef. One thing was certain. Makoto’s cooking put the master chefs at Wasserton to shame. Crazy to think Satoru got to eat like this every day.

Speaking of which, he had yet to show. The other side of the table was vacant. 

“Is Satoru not joining us?” Hannah asked.

Makoto’s face suddenly turned grey as she placed the beef tenderloin on the table. “The young master isn’t feeling well this morning.”

“Really?” Hannah blinked, wide awake now. “He’s sick?”

“No, not exactly,” the housekeeper brought a hand to her temple, “It’s migraines, ma’am. Nasty ones. Sometimes they confine him to his bed for a few hours or more.”

“I see,” Hannah replied, turning over her shoulder to peer down the hallway. “Will he be alright?”

“Hmm?” The housekeeper looked up from a teapot. “Oh yes, ma’am. He’ll make a complete recovery. It’s just...” She removed the steeped tea leaves from the pot and wrung her hands together. “Well, as luck would have it, I forgot to buy Bufferin tablets last week,” her cheeks grew red, “there the only thing that helps with the pain, but I hate to leave the young master unattended in case anything were to happen, so…” She was trying to ask for something but was uncomfortable saying it out loud. Hannnah voiced it for her.

“I could watch him for you.”

“What?” She shook her head vehemently, wishing she hadn’t implied anything. “Oh, no, ma’am. I couldn’t possibly expect you to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be for very long.”

“No, no, no, ma’am. You’re the lady of the house. I simply couldn’t.”

This polite banter went on for another two minutes, Hannah offering her services, Makoto kindly refusing them, but the mistress eventually put her foot down and said very plainly, “I’m his wife, aren’t I?” and that was the end of it.

When breakfast was finished and dishes washed, Makoto departed for the pharmacy, while Hannah went into the kitchens in search of a small bowl, a tray, and a wash rag. Finding everything rather quickly, she filled the bowl with cool water and folded the cloth in half on the tray. Amidst her pillorying, she stumbled upon Makoto’s spice cabinet; cinnamon, saffron, thyme, and countless other seasonings meticulously labeled on glass bottles. A mauve colored spice seized her attention immediately next to the oregano. Aha, there you are. She happily took the jar and poured a tablespoon into an empty tea sachet, tightening the drawstring so it would hold. She gave it a light sniff; The perfect amount.

Adding the bag to her loot, she wiped her hands on her jeans and with a silent prayer lifted the silver platter off the countertop and walked down the hall towards Satoru’s bedroom. The distance felt like a mile. Quietly as possible, she placed the tray on the straw matting and rapped her knuckles on his door three times.

“What is it?” came a groggy voice.

Hannah took a deep breath.

“It’s me,” she bit her lip, afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Can I come in?”

There was a pause before she received an answer.

“Enter,” the voice said.

Hannah slid open the shoji and picked up the tray, noticing her ears pop as she walked through. Must have something to do with the incantation Makoto mentioned yesterday, she thought. His room was sealed in the same magic.

The layout was similar to hers, clean and sparse, not too many furnishings, but rather than purple paulownia trees, the bedroom walls were forested in green pines and sloping mountainscapes with quaint Buddhist temples tucked away in the clouds; a heavenly realm. However, the cardboard cutouts of voluptuous bikini models, winking and blowing invisible kisses, distracted from this sacred space. Apparently marriage hadn’t encouraged Satoru to get rid of them. A bit flustered at never having ventured inside a man’s bedroom, Hannah’s eyes sought the wide screen TV hooked to a gaming console, and two large bookshelves stored with volumes of manga she would later learn were Fullmetal Alchemist and One Piece (and strangely enough, C’mon Digimon), plus gobs and gobs of movies and video games. And then finally there was Satoru himself, looking worse for wear on a lone king-sized mattress.

He craned his neck. “Where’s Makoto?”

Hannah balanced the tray, ignoring the fact that he was likely shirtless underneath those bedsheets. “She left to fetch you some medicine.” Her eyes scanned the room for a spot. “Is it alright if I set this down?

Noticing the tray, Satoru draped a bare arm over his eyes and lazily motioned with his other hand for her to come closer. Hannah approached and situated the tray on the nightstand. The Six Eyes wielder expected her at that point to say her goodbyes and leave. Instead his ears detected the sound of water being squeezed from a washcloth. His side of the bed dipped. He raised his elbow to see Hannah sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding out the wet rag for him.

“May I?”

He wanted to tell her to get out, that he didn’t need to be babied, but his head throbbed as though shrapnel was lodged somewhere deep inside his cerebellum and eye sockets, hitting a jackpot of nerves. The mission had been successful, a semi-grade 1 Curse reported in Daisen, but he’d gone a full 72 hours without sufficient rest and was now paying the price. His eyes ached like sore muscles. Everything was too fucking bright, too colorful. And his stomach. His stomach felt worse than it’d been in years, like someone had sawed it in half. So without further protest, Satoru’s elbow fell to his side, granting Hannah silent permission to press the damp cloth to his forehead. Then he felt fingers comb through his hair and immediately jerked away.

“What're you — ”

“Where does it hurt most?” she said gently.

The newlyweds stared into each other for a tense moment, turquoise blue colliding with moss brown. One more, she had him in a corner. He accepted defeat.

“At the back, around my neck.”

Carefully and stealthily, Hannah wedged her dainty fingers between the pillow to cradle his aching skull and began working circles into the skin, massaging the area where his neck and head connected. He closed his eyes and exhaled an alleviated sigh, her hands brushing back his hair. If he were a cat, surely he’d be purring like a kitten right then.

“It’s the Six Eyes, isn’t it?” he heard her say as she stroked. “That’s what causes them?”

Blood warmed his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Are they always this bad?”

“No.” He tipped his head so she could get the left side. “Haven’t been for a while.”

Hannah nodded in understanding. His hair was pleasantly soft to touch. “I get headaches too,” she said. “On days when I don’t get enough sleep.” He let out a grunt, keeping his eyes closed. She reached for the sachet on the tray. “Here, try this.”

He opened one eye. “What is it? Another olive twig?”

She smiled. Almost got her to laugh.

Almost.

“Not quite. It’s lavender. If you hold it to your nose, it can help relieve headaches.” He gave the bag a whiff, dubious of the claim. Satoru liked incense, but wasn’t fond of essential oils or aromatherapy, believing the fad a hoax. Although, the throbbing dissipated somewhat as he breathed in the lavender. She continued massaging his head. “I need to thank you again,” she added, feeling her way towards the edges of his scalp. “For the clothes, the room, everything. Your home is beautiful.”

Satoru couldn’t help but snort. “You mean it’s old,” He brought the lavender to his chest. “There’s no air conditioning or furnace. It gets hot as hell come August, and in winter it’s fucking freezing.”

Hannah’s fingers reached his neck. “I can imagine.”

Her smile made the pulsing abade. She was nice to look at. However, just as she removed the wet compress to dip and resoak it, the throbbing nerves came back with avengement, twisting and clamping around him like iron jaws, closing tighter and tighter, until he registered a sharp, shooting pain emanating behind his retinas and a flash of white. He hissed loudly, feeling the jaws sink into his teeth, his neck, on his shoulders. The contents in his stomach lurched and Satoru abruptly sat upright, hand over mouth, alarm in his eyes. Fuckin’ hell.

Hannah saw he was scrambling for a basin at the foot of the bed, but it was too far away for him to reach. He wasn’t going to make it. Quickly, she sprung into action and seized the bowl, holding it in front of him as he forfeited whatever little food he ate that morning and possibly last night. She rested him on his side, making it easier for him to vomit and hold the porcelain at the same time.

“Shh, you’re alright,” she soothed, leaning beside him and rubbing his upper back. “Easy now.”

Satoru groaned and spat into the bowl, conscientious of the fact that he hadn’t showered since his return. She was too close. He probably wreaked of sweat and Curse fodder. Acid burned the back of his throat, coating his breath. The nausea lingered in his stomach. He felt like complete and utter shit. Weak. Pathetic. Perhaps this was fate demanding retribution.

Sorcerers like to convince themselves that because they're gifted, it means they’re invincible, and certainly Satoru had bought into the lie a couple times; The first wielder born with the Six Eyes in 400 years, able to pulverize his enemies with the flick of a finger, but Satoru wasn’t blind to power. Deep down he knew the truth. He was human, not a god. And never had he felt more human than lying on that bed, puking his guts out.    

He shut his eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass, and was gently eased into the mattress. The damp cloth was placed on his forehead and he cranked an eye open to see Hannah rise from the bed, “I’ll be right back,” she said and walked out of the room with the basin in her arms. Satoru wasn’t sure how much time elapsed, but when she reentered she was carrying the (clean) basin, along with a glass of fresh water, some stomach tablets, and a new washcloth. Leaving the shoji ajar, she returned to his bedside and offered him the water and tablets. “Would you like to brush your teeth or anything?” He shook his head no, and didn’t fight her when she began wiping his mouth. It then occurred to him that she’s done this before. She had sat at someone else’s side, wiping vomit off their lips, handing out water and medicine, but where? How? Who?

He felt ill again, though not from the headache. Here he was, sick as a dog, fantasizing about all the different ways he wanted to fuck her the other night and not once taking into account her feelings, caring only about his ulterior motives, his desires, his burdens. Satoru told himself she wasn’t a prisoner, that he just wanted the teaching job, but now the birds were coming home to roost and so too were the weight of his actions. Hannah wasn’t merely innocent. She was also a genuinely good person and he, a selfish person, had trapped her here like a helpless animal with no way out. For a lump sum of four billion yen. He wanted to hide his face, but couldn’t. She was too close.

Hannah wore her hair half-down. Six Eyes could distinguish between the gold, brown, and red strands fanned across her shoulders, lush and shiny, a natural curl accentuating the ends. It helped capture her foreign features; the minuscule freckles dotting her nose. Her Cupid’s bow mouth and fair cheeks, flushing prettily in the light. Man, she was gorgeous. What was the phrase they used in her home country again? Ah, yes, an “English rose.” That’s it. She was an English rose. Satoru had to remind himself to keep his eyes fixated elsewhere, otherwise he’d have “bigger” things to worry about. Fabric was the easiest to see through and she was literally sitting over him, her chest front and center. Could’ve also been the mind splitting headache, or the fact she just spared Makoto the trouble of having to clean vomit off his bedsheets, but he chose that moment to extend his own olive branch. She deserved that much.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, wincing in pain from the sound of his voice. “I know you must think I’m an asshole. Probably makes you regret changing your name and stuff, huh?”

Her hand returned to his head. “Shh, don’t speak. Talking will only make it worse.”

“It’s okay,” He ignored her advice. “You can hate me if you want. I won’t blame you. After all, it’s my fault for getting you involved in this Ponzi scheme. If I could do things over again, know that I would.”

The English rose tilted her head sideways. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it a Ponzi scheme,” she whispered, corners of her mouth twitching. “In fact, from a purely objective standpoint, I’d say I’ve made quite the return on investment.”

Satoru scowled at the joke. “Except for your freedom, which I’ve single handedly stolen from you.”

Hannah shared with him a broken smile. It was his turn to be naive. “You can’t steal something that was never there, Satoru,” she said poignantly. “Accidents like me aren't meant to have freedom.” She pulled the covers up over him. “Now, get some rest. Makoto will be back soon with the Bufferin.”

“But I —“

“Shh.” Her fingers ran through his gossamer hair, enticing him to close his eyes. “Go to sleep, Satoru.”

She sat there with him, massaging his head until his eyelids drooped and his steady breathing lulled into soft snores, out like a light. He must’ve been exhausted. After checking to see he was asleep, Hannah gathered the tray and whatever else she brought and quietly left the world’s strongest sorcerer to dream. He would not wake for the remainder of the day.

Chapter Contents

[allisas]

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack

Gear up for thrilling snow sports, relax in natural hot springs, and design your Japanese-inspired home in The Sims™ 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack*! Discover new ways to adventure—challenge your Sims to climb to the peak and bond with others in the world of Mt. Komorebi. From sledding and snowboarding to hot pot around the kotatsu table, there’s something to match every Lifestyle.

CHASE YOUR THRILLS

Test your Sim’s skill and endurance with activities on the mountainside! Grab skis for a downhill ride, strap on a snowboard to shred, or bundle up on a sled with another Sim. Prefer going up? Build their rock climbing skill and challenge your Sim to reach the mountain peak during daring, sometimes dangerous, excursions.

CREATE YOUR SANCTUARY

Whether you prefer the traditional details or modern touches of Japanese-inspired furniture and decor, you can incorporate shoji doors, windows and screens, tatami mats, and more to design a home that complements your life. Take your shoes off at the genkan entryway in the soft glow of paper lanterns overhead, or build your own rock garden outside!

FIND YOUR ZEN

Let your Sim’s worries float away in the natural hot springs, then unwind over hot pot around the kotatsu table or socialize while hiking through bamboo forests and snowy terrain. Bask in the serenity of mindful walks and soothing music to take control of your emotions and discover your inner zen.

DEFINE YOUR LIFESTYLE

Unlock new personality and relationship effects with the introduction of Lifestyles and Sentiments. Lifestyles manifest in response to your Sim’s actions and habits, changing their behaviors appropriately. Similarly, shared experiences inspire Sentiments and have a lasting impact on Sims’ relationships to each other, affecting their social interactions.

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack arrives on November 13, 2020, for Mac and PC and at 10 a.m. PT for Steam, Xbox One, and PlayStation®4! 

*REQUIRES THE SIMS 4 (SOLD SEPARATELY) AND ALL GAME UPDATES. FOR PC, SEE MINIMUM SYSTEM REQUIREMENTS FOR THE PACK.

[maxismatchccworld]

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack

Gear up for thrilling snow sports, relax in natural hot springs, and design your Japanese-inspired home in The Sims™ 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack*! Discover new ways to adventure—challenge your Sims to climb to the peak and bond with others in the world of Mt. Komorebi. From sledding and snowboarding to hot pot around the kotatsu table, there’s something to match every Lifestyle.

CHASE YOUR THRILLS

Test your Sim’s skill and endurance with activities on the mountainside! Grab skis for a downhill ride, strap on a snowboard to shred, or bundle up on a sled with another Sim. Prefer going up? Build their rock climbing skill and challenge your Sim to reach the mountain peak during daring, sometimes dangerous, excursions.

CREATE YOUR SANCTUARY

Whether you prefer the traditional details or modern touches of Japanese-inspired furniture and decor, you can incorporate shoji doors, windows and screens, tatami mats, and more to design a home that complements your life. Take your shoes off at the genkan entryway in the soft glow of paper lanterns overhead, or build your own rock garden outside!

FIND YOUR ZEN

Let your Sim’s worries float away in the natural hot springs, then unwind over hot pot around the kotatsu table or socialize while hiking through bamboo forests and snowy terrain. Bask in the serenity of mindful walks and soothing music to take control of your emotions and discover your inner zen.

DEFINE YOUR LIFESTYLE

Unlock new personality and relationship effects with the introduction of Lifestyles and Sentiments. Lifestyles manifest in response to your Sim’s actions and habits, changing their behaviors appropriately. Similarly, shared experiences inspire Sentiments and have a lasting impact on Sims’ relationships to each other, affecting their social interactions.

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack arrives on November 13, 2020, for Mac and PC and at 10 a.m. PT for Steam, Xbox One, and PlayStation®4!

*Requires The Sims 4 (sold separately) and all game updates. For PC, see minimum system requirements for the pack.

Get Some Air

Breathe in that fresh mountain air and start working on your Sim's rock climbing, skiing, and snowboarding skills. They'll want to level up if they ever intend to explore anything bigger than the easy practice courses. Once they’ve gotten the hang of it, take the gondola up to the bigger ski runs and the climbing routes to the peak. Even wipeouts look cool up there… probably. But when Sims get really good, show off with a light-up board and the chicest snow gear.

It’s not just for adults, either. Children can ski and snowboard on the less challenging trails while parents take their toddlers sledding! It’s snow fun for everyone.

Cool Down

If your Sim crashed a few too many times and they need to recover, lean into the slower parts of life in Mt. Komorebi. Hit up the the onsen bathhouse to soak your Sim’s problems (and injuries!) away. Is there anything better than watching the steam rise into the cold night above after a long day? We didn’t think so.

Even the hiking trails just outside of town offer something new every time. Explore bamboo forests, pause to reflect at the graveyard, or visit the mountain temple with friends to get the full experience. Do remember to dress appropriately, though—depending on where you are, it sure can get cold here!

Build It Up

Rent one of the vacation lots or build your own home when you arrive in Mt. Komorebi! Find inspiration all around town for your next project, whatever it is. New features like shoji doors, tile roofs, and tatami mats lean into the Japanese inspiration behind the pack, and going forward, you can also start playing with customizable platforms! But that’s not all. Fill your home with both modern and traditional furniture options, and make sure to add a cozy kotatsu table for group meals like hot pot.

Outside, enjoy the harmony of this peaceful mountain environment. Add koi to your decorative fountains and start a rock garden under the shade of Japanese maple trees—whatever makes you happy!

So, what’s your snowy escape?

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack arrives on November 13, 2020, at midnight in your region on Origin (for Mac and PC) and at 10 a.m. PT for Steam, Xbox One, and PlayStation®4! Preorder it today to be first in line for the gondola!

Start planning your Mt. Komorebi dream life and connect with your fellow players on The Sims Forums; catch up with us on Twitter and Instagram; like us on Facebook; and subscribe to our YouTube channel. You can also sign up for The Sims 4 newsletter to get all the news as soon as it’s announced. We have a lot planned in the next few weeks as the launch date nears, and we want you to join us for all of it!

[spield]

the sun and the moons - decades after

Notes: This is probably (most likely) isn’t what people expect when they asked for a suns and the moons sequel/follow-up for the infinite universes anthology. But this has been in my drafts ever since Naruto got sick in the first one.  Summary: Sakura’s life with the Uchiha family is a storied one, but we must remember that she loved Naruto first, as he had loved her. And in his deathbed, he requests to see her. 

Long, long after, Naruto’s the one who departs the world of the living first.

As Sakura steps into the main house of the Senju, she tries to recall a time passed. The old house remains unchanged, its floors polished clean even as grief seeps into its planks, leaking from the room where Naruto’s life force flickers.

Who would’ve thought they’d get here?

Here, with Sakura, old, with her bones creaking and eyes milky green? Her back bent but not wavering, covered by the crest of this house’s old rival?

At a distance, she hears the sobs of little ones, mourning. Mourning, in a time of peace. That alone is a privilege, she thinks, one that she and Naruto paid - kicked, fought, and broke their hearts- for. And will pay again and again if asked.

“Sakura-chan.”

Hinata’s soft voice rings true like bells as she steps out of her husband’s room. She, too, is older. Still beautiful, with her fading raven hair and kind eyes. At her side is a cane, she’s never fully recovered from her last childbirth no matter how hard Sakura tried.

Here, away from the sun and the moon, only the lanterns paint and touch the two women of Naruto’s life. From the East, his childhood love stands and in the West, his wife of six decades.

When Hinata wrote Sakura, saying that Naruto asks of her, she almost said no, knowing the pain the woman must be in learning that in her husband’s time of death - he asks for another?

What of their years together? What of their children?

But, oh, the rose-tinted glasses of an old loss can blind even the most reverent of men. And so, Sakura came. (because, she also knows the desire, the desperation, to give someone she loves everything on their death bed — Itachi asked for an illusion, Madara asked for a goodbye— she can’t bear the thought of wondering what Shisui and Sasuke will ask of her. Her soul might just fly if they ever leave her. Her moons, her loves.)

Hinata steps aside and her voice breaks, “He asks for you.”

When Sakura thought about death in her younger years, she always envisioned a fall in battle. It was a time of war, that is to say, it was also a time of grandeur, bravery, and spinning of legends. She always thought it’d be with Naruto.

He and her, protecting the Senju down to their very last breath.

In these thoughts, Naruto always goes last. Seeing Sakura to her crossing, arms around her broken body, bright blue eyes against the blue, blue sky. His smile, strained, promising to follow soon after.

It’s morbid, but it’s all the romanticism they allowed themselves then.

But then, here they are.

The only thing that remains true from those thoughts are Naruto’s eyes, still. Blue, blue as the oceans and as bright as his heart. His sun-lit hair is pale against his pillows, and yet, so, so, bright still.

“Sakura-chan,” he calls, squinting in her direction.

Across him, Sakura steps closer, her feet not as light and quick as in their youth. Much of it spent chasing children and grandchildren she never thought she’d have.

Soon, she reaches his side and takes his withered hand. “Hello, Naruto.”

Naruto smiles, deep lines of grief and happiness etched on his face and for a moment, they are young again. All the pain and responsibilities off their backs like water against a duck’s. “How are you?”

It startles a laugh from Sakura, the very unimportant question of her well-being. “Old. Old and tired,” she laughs, “Why make me take this trip, you idiot.”

The question hangs like Hinata’s cloaked chakra outside the paper thin walls. Away, but not quite. Not even the most selfless of love can drag her away from this. Not even when it hurts.

“I can’t leave without saying goodbye,” Naruto whispers, “And we have so many stories we haven’t told.”

This, this is not a last confession. Nor is it a time for whispered regrets. In the light of the candles understands what this is. A conversation, a goodbye. A last catch-up with a dear friend, and this makes emotion ball up in her throat that all she could do is nod. 

For hours, she makes herself comfortable on a cushion beside her old love’s bed and they talk. 

They talk not of their past together, but of the lives they built apart. They skip the politics, the clans, the responsibilities, and speak of things they would’ve spoke of if they’d remained close. 

Naruto confesses how he fell in love with is wife - “by the moon, Naruto, really?” “Hinata thought it was romantic!” - and he asks how she fell in love with hers - “fire-blown glass? that’s... romantic, I guess?” “oh, shut up, Naruto, Sasuke worked hard on it.” “yeah, sure, can’t imagine him blowing up smoke up--” - and so much more. 

Sakura could feel the bijuu’s chakra leaking out of Naruto, volatile and poisonous, as the night deepens. But Naruto pushes it back with a wince, buying himself more time. He turns incredibly cheeky as the candles burn through. 

“You’re daughter, Sarada...”

Sakura rolls her eyes, “Yes, what about my lovely daughter?”

Naruto smiles, eyes warmed with fondness. “Boruto’s fond of her. Seems like an Uzumaki trait, huh?” 

Something rattles in Sakura’s lungs as she laughs, chuckles at the image painted by her old friend. 

Boruto might be his father’s carbon copy, but he doesn’t have his flair for honest, earnest conversations. He might have a great deal of a harder time winning her daughter’s heart, but he could - if Sakura’s right about Sarada’s eyes. 

(now, if only her husbands will stop glaring at the poor boy...)

“So it seems.” 

Naruto sighs, sinks back to his pillows with a pondering smiles. His voice is raspy from use, quality brittle, the exhaustion catching up to him. “Who would’ve thought?”

Beside him, on his bedside table is a photo of his family. He and Hinata only had two, despite of trying for more. Boruto, with his eyes as blue as his father’s and hair as gold as the sun, and Himawari, with her mother’s hair and her mother’s eyes with a hurricane for a heart. 

In another life, they could’ve been hers. Theirs. 

But as Sakura holds his hand, eyes tracing the lines on his face, she finds not an ounce of regret. 

Good. Because it has no place here. No space for if’s and if only’s, or promises for a second life. No. They won’t insult themselves and the people they love for it. 

Finally, as she feels his control waver, and eyes wandering, she lets go, and stands, her old bones creaking audibly.  

“Were you happy?” Naruto asks, old, wiser, and still so, so kind. 

Sakura smiles, “Were you?”

Naruto falls back to his pillows with a smile, his eyes flickering to the door where Hinata’s shadow stands unwavering, “I am.”

This time, when Sakura walks out of the door, she doesn’t weep. 

Hinata looks up at the opening of the shoji door, protest ready to spill from her lips. The jutsu wavers, and her ears ring with the songs of cicadas. She didn’t want to intrude, perhaps, but it’s more of she didn’t want to hear. 

Sakura stands beside her kneeling figure and sighs, sinking to her knees. 

The two hold hands in solidarity as they feel the man they love, albeit in different ways, and whispers words of gratitude. Sakura, for letting her see him again, and Hinata for granting him this wish. 

But, as Sakura stands up and pushes away Hinata’s surprisingly strong hands that beg for her to stay with her husband, she hopes that the matriarch understands and remembers that at the end it is this: 

Sakura may be Naruto’s first love, maybe his greatest love, but it wasn’t her he spent his life with.

It was her, Hinata, who spent decades by his side, ruling the clan with dignity and grace. It was Hinata who saw him transformed into a boy-leader into a man, it was Hinata who bore him children, who love him—

It was Hinata who stayed.

It was Hinata he built a life with.

At the end of all things, it’s her he loved the longest and it’s her he wants on his deathbed.

Sakura understands that, and with the way flowers bloom on her fellow kunoichi’s cheeks as she enters her husband’s room again, Hinata also do. 

“Are you ready to go?”, her youngest husband asks when she steps out of the gates. Behind him, Shisui waits in a carriage, their third son sitting in front.

With the bright lights of the Senju compound behind her, Sakura nods and takes Sasuke’s hand, “Yes. Let’s go home.”

End Notes: Hearts are golden but reblogs and comments will be much more appreciated! 

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4 Snowy Escape: Official Screenshots, Game Description and Key Features

Now that The Sims 4 Snowy Escape has been officially announced, it’s time to take a look at the full description and key features of the next expansion pack.

Gear up for thrilling snow sports, relax in natural hot springs, and design your Japanese-inspired home in The Sims™ 4 Snowy Escape Expansion Pack*, now available for pre-order. Discover new ways to adventure — challenge your Sims to climb to the peak and bond with others in the world of Mt. Komorebi. From sledding and snowboarding to hot pot around the kotatsu table, there’s something to match every lifestyle.

Chase Your Thrills — Test your Sim’s skill and endurance with activities on the mountainside. Grab skis for a downhill ride, strap on a snowboard to shred or bundle up on a sled with another Sim. Prefer going up? Build their rock climbing skill and challenge your Sim to reach the mountain peak during daring, sometimes dangerous, excursions.

Find Your Zen — Let your Sim’s worries float away in the natural hot springs, then unwind over hot pot around the kotatsu table, or socialize while hiking through bamboo forests and snowy terrain. Bask in the serenity of mindful walks and soothing music to take control of your emotions and discover your inner zen.

Create Your Sanctuary — Whether you prefer the traditional details or modern touches of Japanese-inspired furniture and decor, you can incorporate shoji doors, windows, screens, tatami mats and more to design a home that complements your life. Take your shoes off at the genkan entryway in the soft glow of paper lanterns overhead, or build your own rock garden outside.

Define Your Lifestyle — Unlock new personality and relationship effects with the introduction of Lifestyles and Sentiments. Lifestyles manifest in response to your Sim’s actions and habits, changing their behaviors appropriately. Similarly, shared experiences inspire Sentiments and have a lasting impact on Sims’ relationships to each other, affecting their social interactions.

[sirenutsukushi]

Yowainari Family Information

Just a little information about the Yowainari family, their traditions, and visualization of the estate, shrine and temple.

-The Yowainari family is one of the oldest families in Japan and the oldest in the Kansai region of Japan. They have existed since before the Edo period, long before the Edo period if some reports are believed.

-The Yowainari family name roughly means Delicate Fox, and the family is known for dedicatedly worshiping and serving Inari Okami-Sama, the foxish god and protector of rice cultivation and fertility, as well as Kitsune. The men born into the family were said to be experts in the fields, while the women were said to give birth to strong boys and beautiful girls.

-The Yowainari Family is led by a matriarch, but if the matriarch passes away then the patriarch will lead the family. The current members of the Yowainari family who still live around the Temple or are apart of the newest generation are as follows.

•Grandfather (Patriarch) ~ Katashi Yowainari

•Mother ~ Nana Yowainari

•Father ~ Manzo Yowainari

•Eldest Son ~ Ren Yowainari

•Eldest Daughter ~ (Y/n) Yowainari

•Younger Daughter ~ Ran Yowainari

•Youngest Son ~ Yukio Yowainari

-The Yowainari family is dedicated to Inari Okami-Sama, or they used to be. Because of this the old estate they own was built near the temple, in an arc, with the family shrine sitting in the center of the arc, and the temple a further bit away. There’s hardly any steppable ground outside the engowa, as surrounding the arc of the estate and the family shrine are a series of large, connected koi ponds. To get around the estate minkas and shrine, traditionally styled bridges are built and lit by paper lanterns. Beautiful willow, cherry blossom, maple and wisteria trees grow around the property, with shimmering furin hung here and there on branches. Growing on the surface of the ponds are lotus and water lilies, along with a few other aquatic plants. The estate property is home to three minka, houses, surrounding the shrine in the center. The middle and largest minka is where the current head generation stay and live. The one to the left is where the grandparents or former head generation stay and live. The one to the right is where the future generation is supposed to stay, however it’s been abandoned since the Taisho Period.

-The inside of the Minkas are styled traditionally as well, with tatami flooring, shoji walls and traditional, antique furniture. Futons are slept in, instead of western style beds, kotatsu tables and cushions are used, and there are even rooms with kimono stands for the elegant clothing. However the buildings have had renovations done to add electrical utilities, running water, etc. The only minka that is the same as it was when it was constructed is the one that has been abandoned. (Y/n) wishes to eventually fix up and repair the minka so it’s livable, while keeping it the same as it was in Edo period, but she doesn’t like being inside there for too long.

-The Yowainari family Shrine is a Shinto style shrine, with a gazebo like appearance. Glass furin hang around the shrine, and fuda and talismans are scattered here and there. Large stone lanterns outside the shrine are lit religiously every evening at 7pm, and put out religiously every morning at 6am. Inside the shrine, a stone statue depicting a Kitsune with its right paw raised and a fuda slip held in its smiling mouth, with the family name written in kanji. Sitting in front of the kitsune’s feet, with two of the yokai’s tails wrapped around it is a bowl where offerings are laid, and wrapped around the statue are shimenawa, protection fuda and even a few wilted flower crowns a top it’s head. Above the statue, a brass bowl hangs. This is where incense is placed and lit five times a day. A few raised podium like fixtures hold important artifacts related to the Yowainari family, and along the wall behind the statue are the names of family members who have passed, written small.

-The temple outside of the estate is located following the lined pathway, between towering wisteria trees. It’s not insanely large, but it boasts ancient elegance. The first gate is right outside the beginning of the bridge over the estate koi pond, followed by the sando and temizuya. Passing through the second gates, instead of komainu to guard the tamagaki and temple, there are two inari statues, smiling coyly, with shimenawa around them. Past the tamagaki, the temple is composed of two separate buildings, an inner and outer one. The outer building is home to the haiden (worship hall). Behind the haiden is a second, outer fence and then the honden (main sanctuary). The honden architecture is styled like ones in the Nara prefecture. Unlike some temples however, yes it is rather bare and empty looking, however inside the honden is a single ornate statue of golden fox with nine tails outstretched in different positions, some curled around itself. It’s left paw is raised, a smile on its face, holding the incense bowl by the chain between its teeth. Wrapped around the fox is a thicker, red roped shimenawa. In front of the fox, lay by its paws are a few bushels of rice. Just outside the honden, on two pedestals outside the entrance are two, smaller golden statues of single tailed foxes, sitting paws flat and ears turned back. Inside the Haiden is a single altar, with a few incense bowls hung above it. The altar is where offerings of food are placed, while the smaller altar connected to it are where other offerings are placed. The tatami mats are placed strategically a bit before the altar for prayers and blessings, although this mostly takes place in the honden. Inside the outer gate that surrounds the honden, the area is a smaller zen garden, white sand decorated with different designs from the rakes. Three ancient maple trees grow around the stone stepping path leading up to the temple, each with shimenawa wrapped around their trunks and furin hanging from their branches. It’s (Y/n)’s job to care for the gardens/ponds and the life they hold as well as keeping the temple clean and kept

-Despite the beautiful estate being more than livable, Nana and Manzo do not live there, only staying for a few days every few months. (Y/n) and Ran (sometimes) are the ones who stay in the middle minka, despite their grandfather technically being the head of the family. It’s a bit far from Inarizaki High School, so (Y/n) has to bike every morning, but that’s not an issue for her. She has to get up early to light the incense, so the blessings and put out the lanterns anyways. She’d much rather stay at the Temple Estate than with her parents in the city.

-(Y/n) and her grandfather are the only people who care for the shrine, temple and estate other than Ataiyo, Midōba, Mizuki and Kazashi. But Miko training isn’t the only thing (Y/n) is learning. She also gets to learn the art of tessen wielding from her grandfather, who teaches Mizuki, Kazashi and her. However, (Y/n) is the only one who wants to be a shrine maiden, a priestess.