#Irori Table

[aishiteru-kenshin]

Cozy Japanese Home ~ Steamed Buns and Tea

#Japanese Home #Steamed Buns #Nikuman #Irori Table #お茶 #Ocha #Tea #Sunken Hearth #Japanese Food

[keikikait]

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n  

a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together. 

You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.

You thought he would follow his own rules, too.

It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.

You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.

As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo. 

“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”

You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.

He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”

Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.

Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”

Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.

You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.

You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.

You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.

For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.

You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.

You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.

“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”

You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”

"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”

You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”

Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"

You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.

Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”

Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."

The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”

“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing. 

“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.

“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”

You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.

He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”

You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."

"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"

You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”

He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"

The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second. 

You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."

You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you. 

You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.

The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.

The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.

You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.

You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.

Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?

He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”

You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”

You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”

You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed. 

You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

#keikiwrites #gojo x reader #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #f!reader #✿: gojo!

[murfeelee]

MDZS INSP Set Pt1

This is the very first batch of uploads from my TS3 gameplay inspired by Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Untamed!

EA Books Default Replacement

First up is yet another EA Book Default Replacement, this time using Chinese & Japanese themed book textures. Browse here & here for the swatches/in-game pics. The list of replacements is under the cut.

File Dump Part 1

This file dump includes 18 Buy Mode objects:

EA Chinese Tomb Chest as Toy Chest (basegame)

Silfantasy Chinese Sword as Hoverboard (ITF EP)

Tera Bag as Bag of Understanding (WA EP)

Radish as Edible Morsel (WA EP)

Emperor's Smile as Drinkable UNI EP Alcohol (Arsil Custom Beverages mod + UNI EP REQ)

TS4 to TS3 Jennisims Lotus Seed Pod as Edible Morsel (WA EP)

TS2 to TS3 Jizaikagi Irori Edit as Firepit PLAIN

TeeSangBoy Chinese Couch Redone as Decor Bedframe

TS2 to TS3 Asian Ornate End Table

TeeSangBoy Coffee Table TINY

EA Zen Bath Stool Emptied as Coffee Table

TS2 to TS3 Bamboo Copse

Bamboo Wall Stickers

MTCakestore Chinese Books (Stackable)

ShinoKCR Couch Cushion as Scroll Bundle (Stackable)

TS4 to TS3 Chinese Decor Man 1, 2, 3

Pinwheel ACCs

This miniset includes 3 CAS objects:

ATS3 Pinwheel as ACC for Kids, Toddlers & Adults

And that's that for now!

Enjoy, and Happy Lunar New Year 2023! 🐇🐰

Download folder (zip files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

Descriptions & pics under the cut:

EA Books Default Replacement

There are A LOT of books in TS3, so I tried to match Chinese & Japanese books to TS3′s particular genres:

Athletic & Sports: Armor, Book of 5 Rings (Musashi Miyamoto) | PhysEd & Military: Art of War (Sun Tzu) | Martial Arts: Daoist exercise chart | Riding: Yabusame scroll

Charisma 1-3: Genji no Kokagami (Murasaki Shikibu)

Cooking: Lvl 1 (52 Sick Prescriptions), Lvl 2 (Materia Dietetica), Lvl 3 (Herbal Food + Materia Dietetica)

Fishing 1-3: Materia Medica fish & reptiles (Bencao Gangmu)

Gardening: Lvl 1 (E-hon (Utagawa Hiroshige)), Lvl 2 (Court Records of Japanese Gardens), Lvl 3 (Compendium of Model Gardens (Tsukiyama & Yokei))

Generic: Butler (Book of Rites) | China (WA EP) () | Generic 1-3 (Analects (Confucius))

Handy 1-3: Scroll of Mudras

Kids: Children/Toddler Pictures & Comics (UNI EP) (Journey to the West) | Toddler Fun (Japanese Folk Toys) | Toddler Numbers (CHN/JPN numbers) | Toddler Words (Hiragana chart)

Learning: Non-fiction (Nihon Shoki) | AcadTech/Sci (Chinese alchemy) | Math (Third order equation (Shu shu jiu zhang) | Science (Chinese alchemy, ) | AcadFineArts (Analects) | AcadComm (Shuowen Jiezi) | Social (Genji no Kokagami (Murasaki Shikibu)) | Medical/Prenatal (Chinese Pharmacopoeia) | Historical (Book of Documents)

Logic: Lvl 1 (Analects (Confucius)), Lvl 2 (Book of Documents), Lvl 3 () | Poetry (Book of Songs) | AcadBusiness (Art of War (Sun Tzu))

Magic/Spellcraft (SN EP): Lvl 1 (Iching), Lvl 2 (Onmyodo (Abe no Seimei)), Lvl 3 (Iching hexagram)

Masterpiece (Book of Songs) | Photography/Street Art (E-hon (Utagawa Hiroshige))

Music: Lvl 1 (Qinxue Congshu), Lvl 2 (Qinxue Rumen), Lvl 3 (Book of Songs)

Recipe: Lvl 1 (52 Sick Prescriptions), Lvl 2 (Materia Dietetica), Lvl 3 (Herbal Food + Materia Dietetica)

Recreation: English (Bushido (Inazo Notobe)) | Fiction (Tamamo-no-mae (Katsushika Hokusai)) | Fantasy/Humor/Horror (Kyōsai Hyakki Gadan (Kawanabe Kyōsai)) | Biography (Heike Monogatari) | Romance (Genji no Kokagami) | Drama () | SciFi (Kaguya) | Mystery (Gazu Hyakki Yagyō (Toriyama Sekien))

Y'all can scroll through most of the replacements/swatches here & here.

File Dump Part 1

EA Chinese Tomb Chest as Toy Chest (basegame)

Silfantasy Chinese Sword as Hoverboard (ITF EP)

Tera Bag as Bag of Understanding (WA EP), recolorable, found under Misc Decor IIRC.

Radish as Edible Morsel (WA EP), recolorable; found under Misc Appliances & Plants.

TS4 to TS3 Jennisims Lotus Seed Pod as Edible Morsel (WA EP), recolorable; found under Misc Appliances & Plants.

Emperor's Smile as Drinkable UNI EP Alcohol (Arsil Custom Beverages mod + UNI EP REQ), recolorable; found under Misc Appliances.

TS2 to TS3 Jizaikagi Irori Edit as Firepit PLAIN is yet another version of my two Jizaikagi Irori (here & here), this time without the hanging rack/shelf.

TeeSangBoy Chinese Couch Redone as Decor Bedframe, to be used with functional mattresses (I used these by Sketchbookpixels).

TS2 to TS3 Asian Ornate End Table, TSB Coffee Table TINY, EA Zen Bath Stool Emptied as Coffee Table all recolorable & self explanatory.

TS2 to TS3 Bamboo Copse recolorable, found under Plants & Lawn Deco. Bamboo Wall Stickers recolorable, under Wall Art.

MTCakestore Chinese Books (Stackable) & ShinoKCR Couch Cushion as Scroll Bundle (Stackable) under Misc Deco, fully recolorable.

TS4 to TS3 Chinese Decor Man 1, 2, 3 non-recolorable, but includes rainbow of color variations. Found under Sculptures.

ATS3 Pinwheels as ACCs

Recolorable, unisex for toddlers, children, and teen-elders. Found under Bracelets.

And that's that for now!

Enjoy, and Happy Lunar New Year 2023! 🐇🐰

Download folder (zip files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

#sims 3 cc #sims 3 conversion #ts2 to ts3 #ts4 to ts3 #sims 3 asian #sims 3 the untamed #sims 3 mdzs #sims 3 accessory #sims 3 mods #sims 3 buy mode #sims 3 foodstuffs #sims 3 plants #sims 3 appliances #sims 3 surfaces #sims 3 toys #sims 3 transportation #sims 3 wall art #sims 3 world adventures #sims 3 into the future

[luunie]

So I got the Yamatai Tavern set, and despite the promo for it being a weird dojo sort of deal for some reason, my immediate thought was to build an edo-style izakaya. I didn't use mod added items for this build (hence why it's so sparse and the menu is in stygian), but I did have "less building placement restrictions" installed.

one thing I realized almost immediately is that the reason they spammed the lanterns like crazy in the promo is that the yamatai lanterns are extremely dim, though they're ok when used with other lighting sources.

as for the other items - the bar itself is pretty nice looking, though it does seem like it was designed to also work for a khitan build.

the bar stools feature some clipping but nothing too major.

the painting and bonsai look nice, which is about all you can expect from them, the irori functions as a large campfire while being about half the size, and the table is just, a low dining table.

my biggest gripes are with the tatami and zabuton. the zabuton are just decoration with no interactions - you can emote sit on them but that's it. the tatami is about 6 weirdly proportioned mats (realistically a tatami mat should be about half tile sized, but these are about a quarter and then there's two that are about 1/8th sized) all stuck together in a predefined layout that's hard to place in a row and impossible to place in an auspicious layout.

the biggest issue I have with the set is that it's ludicrously expensive for what you get (a little over 2,700 crom coins) and simply put - most of the items in this set have equivalents in "asshuri's treasures" and "beyond decor: rustic" in more functional configurations for free.

#conan exiles #games #screenshots #mine

[offsidekineticist]

There is a very good chance that I edit/repost this at some point when I can bring myself to revise this, but right now I'm just kind of done with this chapter even if it's not properly done, if that makes any sense. For now, here's Part Seven of the (Completely Platonic!) Breakup Arc. Enjoy Qweck being maybe too much of a badass.

CW: violence, gore, head squishing, discussion of torture.

Not Perfect Yet

You've never told Theo, because you know it would upset him, but you are no stranger to pain. You are a servant of Irori, representing him and his teachings to your flock. You cannot be moved by something so simple as pain. Pain is an essential part of the path to perfection, so you had to learn to accept it rather than run from it. And, as your teacher once told you, it is impossible to practice accepting pain without experiencing pain.

You struggled with this lesson–with learning to accept pain. You welcomed pain, provoked it, even, because you took pride in being able to endure it. But that is not the way of Irori. The way of Irori is to accept your pain without judgment. Your pain does not make you strong, it does not make you weak, it simply is. That was a difficult lesson for you, but one you learned in time. And so when you are led into the sparse chamber at the end of the corridor, you enter without fear. 

Your captors do not restrain you, which seems wildly incompetent. Perhaps for most prisoners merely removing their weapons is enough, but you are a cleric of Irori. Your body is your weapon and your faith your armor. Do they expect you to politely sit still for them while they attempt to torture you into submission? While your fath–while Theo sits in the dark, raving about a letter?

"I will not ask you again: what is your name, cleric of Irori?"

You've only remained compliant as long as you have because you needed to center yourself. You realized this interrogator was likely the person that put Theo into the state he's in, and you wanted to avoid acting out of anger or malice. You are quickly realizing, however, that if you are to act, you must do so now, even as unbalanced as you are.

Very well. An indiscretion now and then is permissible–you are not perfect yet.

"We're done here," you say, standing up and turning your back on her. Ordinarily you wouldn't be so careless, but you're angry. You want her to feel insulted and disdained. You want her to know she is nothing to you, not even a physical threat.

"Is that so? Tormentum damnum!"

You feel the spell squeezing at your innards, but you know this spell–the creation of a sadistic blood lord of Geb–and you know how to resist. You hold your breath, refusing to let your lungs compress, and the feeling passes. You turn back around and cock an eyebrow, leveling your most unimpressed expression at the interrogator.

"I'm sorry. Was that supposed to do something?"

You see her mouth tighten before saying another incantation–one you don't recognize–and spectral chains wrap around your neck and pull you off your feet. You crash through the table, landing on your stomach on the floor. You can't breathe, but that does not overly concern you. You've trained your body to go without air for periods of time that would kill most creatures. So instead of clutching at your throat as the torturer might have expected, you act. She reaches for you, only to find herself grasping at air as you roll out of the way, once, twice, thrice…until you are out of reach and can stand up.

The signifer's lip curls in frustration. She takes a whip from her belt, waving it in the air with a crack. "You only prolong the inevitable."

You would have congratulated her on recognizing the essential function of a healer, but you’re still unable to breathe. She laughs.

“Oh, you are angry, aren’t you, Cleric of Irori? About what I did to your little friend?” Her whip bites your face, and you curse your lack of discipline for allowing her taunting to distract you. “How my magic pierced his mind and body for days on end?” You jump back to avoid another lash. “How I split his fingers to make him sing?”

She is much taller than you. You need to gain extra height if you are to take her. You fix your eyes on the wall behind her. Yes, that should work.

“How he bled for me as my lash sliced his flesh?” she continues, raising her arm to crack her whip again. That is your moment. You bolt forward, over the ruins of the table, under her arm, and up the wall. You can only manage two steps up, but it is enough. With your third step you vault off the wall, twisting to face the signifer. You clutch your left fist in your right hand and raise them both above your head before swinging downward. The signifer turns just in time to see your fists drive into her face.

The signifer stumbles to the side, knocked off-balance. The force on your throat dissipates, and you gasp for breath as you land on the ground facing the door. The signifer braces herself against the wall to your right and laughs. “Oh, yes, I’ve struck a nerve, haven’t I, cleric of Irori?” She spits out a glob of blood and a pointed tooth. “Who are you to Theoven Derenge, I wonder? One of his nearest and dearest? Or perhaps–” she stops, and then her lips stretch into a bloody grin. “Oh, I am a fool, aren’t I, cleric of Irori? You are one of his sacred allies, aren’t you?”

It’s like someone has dumped a basin of cold water over your head. “Sacred allies” is how you referred to the Sacred Order of Archivists in your communications with various resistance leaders–before the Order of the Rack wiped the order out, that is. If the Rack knows that term, either your allies have been compromised, or–

Please, you didn't write that letter!

One of your letters was intercepted. The Rack found one of your letters, and they traced it back to Brastlewark (even though you haven’t lived there in years), and they found Theo and took him because they thought he wrote the letter, and he knew they were looking for you–the sketch you use as your signature is a reference to a nickname he gave you–

All this time he’s been here, tortured in the dark, knowing all the while that he had the means to make it stop–and instead he told them nothing. He held his silence and let them torture him to the point of incoherence to protect you.

The signifer misinterprets your wide eyes and horrified expression as confirmation of her guess. Her smile broadens as she pushes herself off the wall and steps towards you. “Of course the church of Irori would be involved. You hate the Godclaw as much as the Iomedaeans do, don’t you?”

And now your mind moves very quickly, and you realize a number of things at once. Firstly, that the signifer believes your resistance activities were performed as part of your clerical duties. Secondly, should this signifer’s theory be accepted by the hierarchy of the Order of the Rack, the Church of Irori will be brutally persecuted, perhaps even driven out of Cheliax entirely. And therefore, thirdly, you cannot allow this signifer to make her case to her superiors that Theo’s “sacred allies” are the Church of Irori.

She must die here, not for vengeance’s sake, but for the safety of your brethren. Your duty demands nothing less.

(And if you enjoy that duty, well, as you’ve already said, you are not perfect yet)

A sense of calm passes over you. Your heart and your duty are aligned. You may not walk your path with the grace of Irori, but you know nonetheless that your path is still the path of duty–the path to perfection. Whatever you feel about what you do next, whatever else might have motivated you to perform the same act, you know that you are doing your duty.

“Think how much more we must hate the Rack,” you say, “when your purpose is to commit anathema against our god.” And you charge her.

Theo loves all of the events at the Gnomish Fighting League, but his absolute favorite is an event called Titan Wrestling. You get the impression this is the category he would have chosen had thr league not rejected him for being too small.

“So there are two tricks with Titan wrestling,” Theo says as the fighters–a gnome and a cyclops–take their places in the ring. “Those tricks are momentum and resilience. Gnomes aren’t heavy–not compared to a cyclops, anyway–but that doesn’t mean we can’t build momentum. We just build momentum by going fast.”

You run at full spead and tuck your head down and hold your arms out to either side. Your arms slam into the signifer’s knees and then keep going. Her feet thrown out from under her, the signifer falls again, this time face planting onto the ground. You hit the wall with your shoulder and ignore the pain as you bounce off and leap over the signifer’s body, elbow out. You land on her back as she is trying to force herself up on her hands and knees. She collapses under your weight. Your elbow drives into the back of her head. Her face hits the floor again.

“What’s the second trick?” you ask, dipping your pretzel into a cup of cheese sauce. “Resilience? So just…being ok when you get stomped on?”

“Not exactly. A cyclops isn’t used to getting knocked down. He’s going to be slow to get up–a lot slower than you are. Knock him down again, he’ll be even slower. And you do it again and again, until you can knock him down faster than he can get up.”

The signifer tries to roll away from you. You reach forward with both hands and grab the sides of the signifer’s mask and pull back. Her back arches as she desperately tries to pull your hands away, but your hands are strong, and she has to reach back with an awkward angle. You pull harder and harder. She tries to hit your hands to get you to let go, but again, she can’t get a good angle. And now, holding her head still in your hands, you kick your foot into her back.

There’s a crack and a scream. Her legs, previously kicking in a vain attempt to hurt you, stop. Her arms start flailing weakly. You let go of her mask and let her face fall to the floor again. You stand up and push her onto her back with your foot.

“You are about to die. Do you want to know why?” you ask. Your question is met with mask’s blank stare. “You are about to die because, unlike you, I train to fight people who fight back.”

You look ahead at the door as you stomp on her mask. You hear the cracking of bone and the splattering of blood and the squishing of brain matter. You do not look. You do not need to look. She only needs to die. You do not need to watch her die. Doing so would be to indulge the part of yourself that craves vengeance for what she did to your f–to Theo.

You find a ring of keys on her belt, and you take it for yourself. Hopefully you won’t have to try all of them before finding the one that fits Theo’s cell.

And Giliys’s. Because you can’t leave him behind. Apparently.

You move towards the door and stop. You return to the body and take the mask off the corpse. Pieces of brain and flesh and bone are stuck to the mask, but that’s fine. You don’t want it to wear, and you don’t want it to keep (the Rack would hunt you to the ends of the earth if you stole one of their signifers’ precious masks). You only want it as proof–so Theo will know she can't hurt him anymore.

You leave the interrogation room. You walk straight to Theo’s cell and drop the signifer’s mask on the floor in front of the door. You can barely see Theo in the dark, but you can tell he’s staring at the mask.

“How?” he asks, voice crackling from thirst.

“I am a cleric of Irori. My body is my weapon and my faith is my armor," you say imperiously as you fumble with the keys. And then, with a slight smirk, "also, I knocked her down faster than she could get back up.”

His face is too shadowed to say for sure, but you think you hear a smile in his next words.

“That’s my girl,” he says, and if that fills you with unearned pride, well.

You’re still not perfect yet.

#oc: theoven derenge #oc: qweck #pathfinder wotr #pwotr pals #the (Completely Platonic!) Breakup Arc #part 7

[enddaysengine]

Zelekhut (Paths Beyond, Inevitable)

What better than a bizarre living statue with a distinct sense of blue and orange morality? A bizarre living statue with a distinct sense of blue and orange morality who is a bounty hunter. Zelekhuts are inevitables, monitors created by the axomites and tasked with upholding order within the multiverse. In this case, zelekhuts seek out those who have evaded justice and carry out summary punishments. 

Zelekhuts embody both callous and inclusive approaches to the law. They recognize that nations apply different rules to their lands and that one set of cosmic axioms is neither practical nor desirable. At the same time, don't expect them to overthrow the Infernal House of Thrune, no matter how depraved they become, as long as they remain within the bounds of their legal authority. Legal authority the House gets to define. To Zelekhuts, defining laws on the material plane falls to the hands of mortals; they are just enforcers. 

While not much has been written of Zelekhuts on the planes, I expect they are equally dispassionate, recusing themselves from politics and legislation, only taking action if a law is violated. Determining the laws of a given realm is the providence of whoever the zelekhut deems to be that place's proper authority. Usually, that means a god or demigod, but the planes are strange, so almost any type of authority could be deemed appropriate if it fits the local theme. 

When you are down on your luck in the Mana Wastes, there is a ritual you can turn to. Set an extra place at the table, pour out one too many whiskeys, light an additional cigar, and deal only one more hand than you need. If you are lucky, the Restless Gear's spirit will animate a nearby clockwork and come calling. The Zelekhut offers information and is willing to take (legal) targets from the summoners, but has a unique price: submission to the inevitable's geas. Those willing to pay the fee find the bounty hunter's terms provoke them to rethink their conception of justice.

Emashi serves as the Master of Master's envoy, doing Irori's will by punishing those who would destroy or hide the truth. Unsurprisingly, she often allies with the Sacred Order of Archivists against Thrune partisans and the Hellknight Order of the Rack, but evil is far from the only ones she judges and finds wanting. Heaven's Heresy Ovens and exscinder archons are equally guilty in the zelekhut's eyes — perhaps even more so, being perfected axiomatic souls rather than fallible mortals seeking improvement. Emashi is no match for either, so they must plot against the heretical celestials and find adventures in cities like Yulgamot or Anophaeus to aid its schemes. 

Every sailor worth their salt in the Shackles knows a tale of a ghost ship, but Dead Man's Penance is strange even among them. Constantly surrounded by storms and rough seas, the sloop is a unique valkyrie capable of restoring dead sailors to life. Its "captain" (partner, really) is the Zelekhut Years of Service. Years is no pirate but a privateer who gives the shipwrecked and recently slain a second chance in exchange for helping it track down criminals across the multiverse. Despite their opposite alignments, the partnership between aesir and inevitable is mutually beneficial — the Penance gets to freely travel both mortal oceans and the River of Souls. At the same time, Years has gained powerful allies in its fight against soul-thieves and doomsday cults. 

#Inevitable #Pathfinder #Planescape #Plothooks #Pathfinder 2e #Paths Beyond #Outsider #Monitor #RPG #rpg inspiration

[gefdreamsofthesea]

I talk about how upset I would be if each Pathfinder deity dies.

SPOILERS for the current "safe" deities if anyone cares.

Okay so to start off let's take the current safe deities off the table:

Pharasma

Asmodeus

Okay, now that that's out of the way. Let's go in the order of the chart from the top left.

Erastil - He's gotten a bit of an overhaul since 1e where he was more sexist and less hidebound (lol) in general but honestly I wouldn't be mad if he died (especially if his family gets more attention)

Iomedae - Iomedae is boring. She's boring okay? But I'm still very attached to my DM's depiction of her as a repressed lesbian (and her afterlife had many hot ladies in armor) and okay lady paladins are hot

Torag - Snoooooore, kill Torag I don't give a shit (my dwarf loving friends will)

Sarenrae - do not touch the Sarenrae/Desna/Shelyn throuple, ever, but also I think it would be metal if they killed the fucking sun

Shelyn - if Shelyn dies, I riot, also do not touch the Sarenrae/Desna/Shelyn throuple

Cayden Cailean - I will be very upset if Cayden dies. I know many queers who will be very upset if Cayden dies.

Desna - do not touch the Sarenrae/Desna/Shelyn throuple

Abadar - fuck Abadar and his colonizing ass

Irori - Irori is boring in the same way that Iomedae is boring

Gozreh - Gozreh dying could cause a lot of problems but I have no strong feelings either way

Nethys - It would be so funny if Nethys dies and the Archives of Nethys has to change its name

Calistria - I like sexy vengeful wasp lady but she appeals to a certain niche and letting her go would feel like Paizo is really trying to shred that "dudebroness" of 1e (there are still plenty of horny designs in the bestiaries but it's not solely pandering to straight male horny)

Gorum - Honestly what does Gorum even offer to this pantheon? Kill him off idc.

Zon-Kuthon - leave Daddy weird evil BDSM guy alone

Norgorber - Fuck Norgorber he's a bastard and his followers are bastards

Urgathoa- I personally would be very upset if Urgathoa died but also the goddess of undeath dying herself would be ironic in the best way

Lamashtu - Lamashtu's whole thing is, uh, squicky and a bit problematic. I know a bunch of folks who are uncomfortable with her whole deal. Also the Abyss would be even more of a chaotic mess after her death

Rovagug - LOL like they'd actually kill off Rovagug. He's already imprisoned and killing him would do what? Remove one of Golarion's biggest problems?

[firesofdainix]

October 4: Childhood | Orphans | "I am your father."

More Green Dragon duo!!! It’s the only duo with Morro I can write! Featuring Garmadon and Wu probably snapping idk

@morrotober

AO3 Version

*

CW: implied child abuse and child abandonment

*

Ever since Wu picked Morro up from the streets he had once come, fed and gave him clothes and a home, he’s been picking up some rather strange behavior towards him, like an animal now stuck in a rather unfamiliar setting, studying the new and unfamiliar surroundings presented to him. He watches Wu flicker a fire into the heart of the irori, cooking up dishes that Morro has never truly witnessed before. Green-gold eyes narrowly escape his gaze whilst he was trying to practice his prowess over creation. The sounds of someone running around the tatami mats, attempting to study every nook and cranny of the monastery. A lone shadow, like a ghost, presence whispering away as it stands idly over a few rooms he has taken interest in. The wind when a shoji door slides open, and the feeling of something heavy on his futon, a warmth pressed to his side.

He did not mind it at all— the young boy, or, Morro, as they have both agreed upon, was a great company to be around with. No longer did he feel as if he is losing his sanity over being alone, stuck in a world without his brother that turned his back on the teachings of his father and cared for his brother, forging a new path towards the evil that their father has attempted to destroy himself. While Misako’s letters and visits keep him grounded, there was always the overlying factor she views him more as a friend. Which doesn’t leave him thoroughly feeling as if he has a companion during her visits.

But Morro was a great addition to the monastery— he can finally attempt a hand at teaching children (so that Garmadon’s voice would stop taunting him about his certain fear over caring for children as small as Morro), and he will not be forced to spend the remaining years as Garmadon remains in that King of Noodles’ own monastery in solitude.

(Wu had an inclination to send his brother a rather insulting and petty letter, but he decides against it. It is too undignified for him.)

Every day, he wakes up hearing the sounds of someone already up, sleepy and lethargic as it can be, and he smiles despite himself. He finally has a student to teach, and someone to keep him company.

And Morro seems to have been getting better— he didn’t jump when Wu suddenly appears in front of him; he didn’t have to sniff at the food to see if it was too rotten to be considered a good meal; he didn’t have to look at the food without having to know that he will never consume such a delicious, good dish such as this one. The young boy did not have to fish out for ragged clothes, medicine for his wounds, or anything he needs to simply survive in this world; simply put, he has now been offered the things that he had believed to be luxury. He smiles at the clothes Wu gives Morro, not minding that they are old relics of former children before him. He looks at the food with drool spreading across his lips, fingers drumming at the dining table as Wu lines up the zabuton for them to eat. He feels both relieved and sad that Morro sees these bare minimum ways of living as the standard; no child has to live through that.

(He whispers that to Morro’s ear when the nights were too quiet; he didn’t deserve what happened to him, all alone in the streets.)

But, there are times in which, occasionally, he gets a glimpse of what Morro is like before he became the studious, ambitious, and hardworking young boy he is now. When the warm, hot days of summer start to transition to the deader season of autumn, where the leaves of green slowly become orange, yellow, gold, and in-between, Morro starts to become… different. There was a blowing wind inside of him that continues to scream, but he didn’t know why it was occurring. The wind inside of Morro was a conjugation of what he had gone through before Wu had found him, and what he wants to become.

A ninja, he had said when Wu was about to put the lights of the brazier out after writing a letter to his brother. His whisper was carried by the quiet air around him, tense and unreadable.

A ninja to help you, master.

Wu doesn’t know why he feels dread when Morro says that statement as if his own future self is warning him about Morro’s fate.

Father knows he was going to die, so you must know something about the future, too. Garmadon’s voice tells him.

Wu tells Garmadon to shut up. Nothing will come of this. Nothing at all.

He witnesses this sudden change in Morro’s behavior, sullen and cold and unpredictably silent, like the sleepy air that trudges through the atmosphere, making no effort to create a strong current of the wind that haunts them all, in the midst of the Autumn Festival, when the days are getting shorter, where the leaves start to fall off like hair strands.

He was brewing himself — and, by extension, Morro — some tea to help with the chilly weather today. He hears the doors of the shoji slide open, and the quiet, languid steps of Morro following, like a dead man attempting to walk to the sunlight.

Radiating a very sincere smile on his face (different from his more practiced smiles), he turns to look at Morro, offering him tea. “Good morning, Morro. Did you sleep well?”

Much to his bewilderment, Morro skips his outstretched hand and goes towards the training course immediately, his head hanging low, eyes covered by his hair. Wu, a little perplexed at the young boy’s display of taciturn and overarching, imminent ire his aura is currently effusing. The wind follows him like a wallowing servant obliged to follow him at every turn.

“Is there something on your mind right now, Morro?” Wu inquires, but either Morro is too buried over his officious thoughts, or he didn’t want to respond for fear of snapping. The boy walks towards the training course, as if he was the only one alone in this Realm, in the monastery, while Wu was simply frowning at his moves. It was rather weak, fatigued as if he had been a part of a back-breaking job he can never escape from.

Creasing his brows in a worried manner, Wu takes a sip of his tea with caution.

Whatever is bothering Morro right now, he will tell him. He will not let the boy he has chosen to cherish suffer in silence.

But Wu, are you not experiencing an agonizing attempt at keeping your lips sealed? The soft lilt of Garmadon’s voice that often plagues his mind on the engawa of the monastery speaks, a smile on his face. Wu wants to throw his cup of tea toward the source of the voice. Why must you always have to keep quiet about the things which perturb you?

Shut up. The cup in Wu’s hands trembled, like an earthquake about to give in. Shut up. How dare you comment about my lifestyle. You left me. How dare you.

A laugh, poisonous but mirthful, echoes, and Wu forces himself to focus on observing how Morro moves. Is it just him, or is his child getting slower?

Someone is mad.

It takes him a lot of effort not to throw the cup away like he’s been doing back when he was alone.

(Morro is there. How can he explain to the boy he is being accosted by the ghost of his brother? He’s seen the way he had been frightened of everything.)

He takes a few calming, ragged breaths, just in time to hear someone scream on the training grounds and a crash.

Bewildered, Wu looks up from the cobblestone pathway, and at Morro who looks quite angry more than usual, an impertinent frown on his face as he continues to knock down the training dummies with an angered expression, like an angry howling of wind during a storm.

The blonde man stands from where he was sitting, brushing off imaginary dust in a bid to act dignified. He walks over to the enraged, ireful boy, before lowering himself so that they are now on eye level.

“Did this poor dummy do anything to you?” Wu asks in a gentle voice, hoping he doesn’t sound patronizing.

The young boy didn’t immediately calm down like he usually does when his master confronts him. His eyes were like the warm sun, his voice of calming tea. Yet, he feels his own anger heighten.

He whirls around an angry expression on his face. “None of your business!”

Wu blinks at the harshness of his voice. Morro, realizing he had just disrespected his elder, clamps his mouth shut; yet Wu could see that there were tears forming in his eyes.

Wu gives Morro a small look of sympathy, “Morro, I—”

He hears a sniffle in front of him, and the wind on his face as Morro dashes towards the inside of the monastery, a lithe figure leaving nothing else but the trace of overwhelming sadness and anger that he left behind.

The blonde can only stare in the direction where he had gone, confused and worried about what is happening to Morro.

Perhaps he’s gotten sick of you, Garmadon’s voice tells him, definitely finding the entire situation funny, because he is his brother.

Do not think of such things, Wu tells him.

He personally debates whether he should follow Morro or let him be.

He doesn’t spare more than a second to think about what to do, so he follows his heart. It is always right about everything.

Or, it could lead to his and others’ ruin.

Wu knows where Morro usually practically sulks— his own room, at the end of the hallways, divided by both shoji and fusuma. The walk towards that room was slow; he wants to give Morro a few more minutes to gather his bearings, to let out all the negative emotions like water falling from a great height.

But, he could feel the usual joy and happiness around his monastery sagging, like the melancholy of Morro was enough to drain the usual emotions of the warmth and fuzzy mirth.

His steps echo in the hallway before he stops in front of the shoji doors that separate him from his child student. If he cranes his neck closer to the young boy, he could hear whimpering and crying, like the soft whispers towards the wind.

Wu’s tail sags a bit, and his ears lower at the sound of it.

So, he takes a deep breath (why is he the one preparing when the other still has not recovered from the episode he is in?) and, with a voice that hopefully lets the spring last longer, he asks, “Morro, may I come in?”

The sniffling stops, but the shuffling of feet doesn’t really do much to tell him that he has his answer already. So, with a careful, ginger touch, he slides the shoji doors with a gentle demeanor, until his eyes can find Morro, in a fetal position across the floor, head on his lap. He is definitely shaking as if the wind is currently as frigid as the winter that is about to befall them.

He doesn’t even seem to process that Wu was near him, his hands — sharp claws attempting to offer comfort — reaching out to the lone, solemn figure on the tatami mats.

“Morro,” he keeps his voice as soft as possible, but his eyes reflect the brokenness of his form. What has transpired over the young boy that he has broken down during August? “Are you ill?”

A sniffle. “No.” His voice was hoarse and dry.

“Then why are you weeping?” Father, he hopes he doesn’t sound annoyed. He swears this is his natural voice when it comes to comforting people.

“Because—” It takes Morro a few seconds before he breaks down once more. “It’s fall.”

Wu blinks. He shouldn’t be surprised that a child who definitely has a lot of emotional baggage would not answer in a clear, concise manner. He finds himself feeling as if he was at the end of the stick this time. And, there is nothing quite crucial or important during fall, except for the death of the verdure making way for its resurrection in the next spring. Nonetheless, he does feel as if he is missing a crucial point over his reaction; he’d been stagnating with his joy and happiness ever since the first leaf has fallen from the trees above them.

“... I can see that,” Wu supplies unhelpfully, and he feels the sting of Garmadon’s hand on his cheek when his accidental honesty made a child cry.

I know you’re terrible at making it clear over what you are talking about, Garmadon says with a scolding tone, but at the very least filter your words in front of children.

So, he rephrases his words once again, simply because he definitely doesn’t want to worsen Morro’s already accumulating sadness. “Why does the changing of the seasons upset you?”

Morro, looking quite affected, sniffles before rubbing his hands over his eyes. Before Wu can tell him that will only irritate him, he stops, before looking up at him with an upset look. It was a frown he was quite familiar with— when he hinders Morro from his hard work, or perhaps assigning him chores he deigns menial to his daily life. The thought of him being underestimated, being cast to the side when all Wu wanted for him was to rest easy.

Two sides.

“You never asked me about where I came from,” Morro says with a slightly accusatory tone, and Wu’s tail droops a little. “Has it ever come to you why I ran away? What do you think happened to me? Did you have any idea?”

It takes Wu, shamefully, a long time to process what message Morro is trying to get across.

Morro has been waiting — and was ready — to tell Wu about his condition and situation since they had first met.

It was not like Wu was a stranger to people telling them their life as if they were tall tales— they are ninjas, he is bound to hear them finally let their walls crumble and fall as if they had been laying siege on their hearts, sobbing words until the bottles were all but full. It makes Wu envious; he covets the way they are able to tell the tales that saddened them simply because someone was so… nice and warm to the point they feel comfortable talking. Yet, he did not pry over their lifestyle— he simply believes that whatever threads connected them to one another is enough for him not to question who they were before their lives changed forever.

(It takes him a moment to realize that, because he is the person who was the embodiment of the second sun, he should be the one listening.

He doesn’t listen to himself, however, words that were like sharp swords that cut through his skin to draw blood. There were too many demeaning words inside of him.)

Wu sits beside Morro, leaning on the walls, replicating his own position. Except, while Morro is solemn and lonely, he is comforting and warm. “... While I was curious about the story behind why you are in the streets rather than in a home with a family, I never brought up the urgency to ask you.”

“Why?” He asks. “Why didn’t you care?”

“It’s not because I don’t care, it’s because… I never find myself questioning why destiny brought us together.”

It was the whole truth. Destiny was a confusing concept that will either be cruel, grappling at his body like claws dragging him to the deepest depths of the Underworld, or a puppeteer, dainty fingers drawing up the strings like a taut line as it brings the souls of two strangers together as if they’d known each other since they were simply energy made by the universe. He has met thousands of people in his lifetime — friends, brothers-in-arms, lovers, children — without knowing what brought them to him, only thinking of the present, never thinking about the future he knows is hopeless to imagine, and the past that was his reckoning. There is a multitude of reasons as to how and why they have gotten to a coincidental standpoint of knowing each other; meeting them was their one constant.

Morro looks confused. “Destiny?”

He nods, letting a small smile enter his face. “While it is not a person or a creature, it is responsible for simply being the reason that you found me.”

The boy blinks and stares at his hands as if he holds the power of destiny in his hands.

(Wu subtly ignores how the wind, so weak a while ago, becomes as strong as a winter’s breath.)

“If… Destiny didn’t make me choose climbing up in the mountain, I would not have found you?”

Wu shrugs. “Perhaps. The thing is, Destiny may let us meet, earlier, or later in our lives. It depends on which decision and choice you choose; Destiny already has it in their hearts. We are all part of Destiny’s whims, after all. There is no such thing as breaking it.”

The young boy starts to nod, finally processing what Wu was saying. Then, he looks up at Wu, green-gold eyes gleaming as he has finally finished this part of the puzzle. “If my dad wasn’t a drunkard, hits me a lot, and my sisters did not abandon me, I wouldn’t have run through the forests and found you!”

Wu’s smile immediately fades, his expression transitioning to wide-eyed horror. “What?”

That was not… that definitely wasn’t what Wu was expecting. Yes, he did have some assumptions about where Morro came from and why he had left his home. It was clear from the way he trembles when called, his hesitancy over touching his own food, and how he reacts to loud noises, he did not have the best home life.

He didn’t think that he would say it in a straightforward way.

Okay, yeah, what the fuck, Garmadon replies, equally as caught off guard as Wu is.

But, as if Morro does not hear the horrifying sound of Wu’s beating heart, he continues. “Wow, Destiny is the main player in how we met! That’s so cool!”

“No,” Wu shakes his head, his voice breaking. How long did this child endure what his father had done to him to the point he sees it as a positive outcome? “It is not cool as you say.”

Morro looks at him, puzzled. “But, we met because my family hurt me!”

“Yes, they did,” he croaks, his empathy oozing over. Brother always says he has a high empathy rate. He inherited it from Father. “But that does not make it good.”

Morro lets out a hmph, before crossing his arms. “I thought it was destiny for us to meet.”

“Morro,” he speaks in a calm, formal, but warm way, enunciating his name. There was a decision that clicks in his mind.

“What?”

There was silence in the air for a moment, as Wu tries to think of what to say at this turn of events.

“I—" He let out a deep breath, and the wind itself has its breath bated. He wonders what gave him the idea to say this. Morro looks at him with a rather curt and confused expression. "I am your father.” He says, and, sparing himself the absolute embarrassment quailing in him, he pats Morro's head hesitantly.

The boy has an understandable reaction. "... Huh?"

"Your father doesn't deserve to be called one," Wu begins, using his more strict and imperious voice. Morro gasps, as he registers what the head pats and his statement mean to him. "So…" His eyes droop with a surprising gradient of care. "I wish to become yours."

Morro was still silent as a soft breeze that wafts through them. Wu continues to pat his head, feeling awkward.

Wow, what is this, a competition for the more inept at social activities? Garmadon's sardonic voice returns, and Wu bites back the occasional sigh.

After another bout of silence ensues, Wu sighs. Perhaps Morro is not ready to give up the past. Perhaps they are moving to zones that Morro himself still could not comprehend.

He silently retracts his hand away, but a small, warm hand stops it from growing further.

His golden eyes turn to look at big green ones, dark hands still handling him in a way that makes Wu feel… complete.

"I…" He becomes bashful, awkward even. "I'd like for you to be my father, too."

Wu stands there with a stupefied look on his face (he could feel the breeze embracing him with open arms, too), unable to comprehend what is happening right now.

Morro has accepted him as his father.

Wu accepted him as his son.

And…

The blonde man wraps his arms around Morro, trying not to tear up. “I am glad,” he says, voice almost breaking. “I am glad we both have accepted each other.”

“If Destiny accepted our meeting, then what is wrong with us both accepting one another?” Morro inquires, and Wu smiles brightly.

“I too, am glad Destiny allowed us to meet.”

He won’t have to be lonely anymore.

Morro will not have to remember that his bastard of a father is actually his paternal figure.

They have each other.

#manji wips #lego ninjago #ninjago #morrotober #morrotober 2022 #morro ninjago #morro wu #wu ninjago #sensei wu

[pix4japan]

Sunken Hearth at Teahouse (Hakone, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan)

The Amazake-chaya Teahouse has retained its charm dating back to the early 1600s. The entrance still has the hard earthen floor where wooden tables and chairs are made available for guests.

Farther back are the more traditional woven straw tatami mats where guests sit on the mats and enjoy their drinks and food on knee-high tables.

The centerpiece of the interior is the irori (open sunken hearth), which has a unique figure-8 shape (typical irori are square or rectangular) surrounded by beautiful hardwood flooring.

In this shot, you can also see the jizaikagi—a contraption that includes a pothook attached to a rope that runs through a bamboo pole and extends up to the ceiling timber directly over the irori. The height of the pothook can be changed to adjust the temperature of the food or liquid in the pot.

Irori were common in the main living room of traditional Japanese homes where wood, charcoal, or even coal was burned. Upper-class homes would have had an additional irori in the tea ceremony room where smokeless charcoal was used.

Irori also provided homes with some lighting at night, heat for the main room, and could be used to dry wet laundry, cook food, boil water, and to dry fish and fruit.

Smoke from the irori, specifically the tar in the smoke, was also an essential component for preserving the structural integrity of thatched-roof buildings. While the heat from the irori drew moisture from the building’s timbers and thatched roof to prevent rot and mold, the tar from the smoke would coat and permeate the wooden beams and underside of the thatched roof helping to further prevent mold and rot, and was especially effective at repelling pests, and added an extra layer of waterproofing against rain and snow.

Fujifilm X100V (23 mm) with 5% diffusion filter ISO 3200 for 1/4 sec. at ƒ/2.0 Astia/Soft film simulation

#風景写真 #神奈川県 #旧東海道 #箱根 #甘酒茶屋 #囲炉裏 #pix4japan #Fujifilm #Fujifilm X100V #Astia Soft film simulation #Japan #Amazake-chaya #Hakone #Tokaido #irori #teahouse #travel photography

[descendent-of-the-sixth-heaven]

No you are adorable. No excuses. Hmm?

*Cherry suddenly feels cold. She shivers a little bit*

Is it snowy outside? That being said... this part of the country snows a lot, right? No wonder the bunnies came inside. We should warm up this room with something. Is there a heater in this time or kotatsu table?

.............

Shingen: I am. Before we sleep, we should light up the irori (traditional hearth for heating) to warm the room.

*He gently hands Koro to Selena and walks to the hearth, lighting up the charcoal underneath*

Kenshin: Ah, there is. I will light up the irori. Bunnies, keep cherry warm while I take care of this.

*He got up to light up the charcoal, the bunnies used their fluffy fur to keep cherry warm*

————

Selena: it is cold… let me hug you so that you feel warm.

[kooriicolada]

Tension Chapter 6 Snippet

I’m in a Mood so have a preview~

--

Chin resting on one hand, Madara tipped his cup back and forth.  The candlelight caught on the liquid inside.  "Am I following the wrong path?" he asked.  His fidgeting paused, the sake on the very edge of pouring over the lip and onto the polished wood of the table.  "Tell me, Hikaku, have I led the clan the wrong way?"

It was a loaded question and Madara knew it.  If he were honest with himself it was a test.  Did Hikaku fear him enough to placate, or would he be honest? The shoji out into the garden were open, letting in cool air.  The lit irori was too far away to properly chase off the early spring chill.  One of his koi broke the surface of the pond, slick and swift, and disappeared with barely a ripple. Hikaku breathed out beside him and set his cup down.  Madara waited, braced for either outcome.  What he would do even he didn't know.

#madatobi #uchiha madara #uchiha hikaku #koorii writes #The Slow Release of Tension

[cottoncandy-cult]

Juubei Jimushi x Reader

(Y/n) sat by the irori preparing some tea for her Master, she was part of the Aratani clan and wore the traditional kimono for an unmarried woman within her family. The Aratani clan's loyalty lie to the Kouga Manjidani clan. And many of the Aratani served the higher-ranking members of the clan, she was assigned to none other than Juubei Jimushi. The snake like man was known not only for his oddities but his ability to read the stars, she had gotten lucky as he was an honorable man who treated her well despite her lower status. "Are you ok (Y/n)-chan? You seem lost in thought." His raspy voice had cut through the silence of the dimly lit room, it had been a rainy day so the shoji door to the outside had been closed.

She had jumped slightly when he pulled her from her thoughts, making her blush and giggle a bit to herself at her own silliness for being so easily distracted. "I'm sorry Master Juubei, I was just thinking of how lucky I was." When she noticed the tea was done, she took the tetsubin off the fire, and moved steadily as she filled a glass for him and one for his friend Okoi who had yet to show up. The woman was one of the more brash members of the Kouga clan, she often came to have tea with her Master. "Lucky? Has something special happened?" The limbless male perked a brow, her being a member of his house meant he often checked the stars to make sure things were ok, but he hadn't noticed anything new. This made her giggle once more as she approached the table he sat at and rested the two cups on it, then looked to him with a soft smile and a deep crimson blush. "I'm lucky to have you as a Master, some men can be cruel or perverted. But you treat me as a human, so I can't help but to feel lucky." This had surprised him a bit, he knew better than anyone that some of the Kouga men and women could be abrasive or awful, but he hadn't realized how much it meant to her to just to be treated human. Genosuke had been trying to reprimand members who he felt were dishonoring the clan by acting in such a way, but still things tended to happen.

"The Aratani clan are important to the Kouga, your family takes care of many things for us. From dealing in medicine to farming and black smithing, you all have done nothing but work and give us your all. Now that I've had you here for so long, I'm not sure what I'd do without you. I rely on you for quite a bit, and you've never once failed me." He leaned back in the cushioned zaisu he sat in, smoking his pipe and letting her take in his words.  He hadn't been lying, she cooked for him and would even feed him or hold up his glass for him to drink. She had always been happy to do so, never once getting irritated by his needs. With a cherry red face she bowed, trying to hide the smile on her face from his praises. "Thank you Master, I try my best to keep you happy and healthy."

That made the male chuckle, he appreciated her loyalty as he knew no matter what he'd always have her company. "I doubt Okoi will be coming by, the rain is getting much harder. It'll be a full-on storm soon." The (H/c) headed girl looked up at him, nodding her head before tilting it slightly. "I see, what would you like to do then Master?" Juubei tilted his head back, puffing the pipe in his mouth before looking over to her. "Why don't you join me, aside from occasional comments you really haven't told me a whole lot about yourself. Yet you know me like the back of your hand." He chuckled and motioned with his head for her to grab the extra cup and get comfortable by him, something she did though she had to struggle to not reveal her eagerness. Picking up the glass of tea she took a small sip before sitting it down, enjoying the warmth it gave her as she looked to him. "Well, what would you like to know first Master? My life has been quite calm and uneventful, so I'm afraid I don't have much to tell."

Juubei simply smiled, nodding his head. "Tell me anything you'd like. Even if it's as simple as your favorite food or drink. I'm sure there's more to you than you think." His tone made her melt, from that moment hours were spent talking and exchanging stories and facts. When the tea ran out, he had recommended sake, something (Y/n) had rarely partaken in, but she knew his tastes were good and she was perfectly safe. Now they set in front of the open doors, the storm had stopped for the moment and the skies were clear. Neither spoke and simply gazed at the moon and the stars, though soon Juubei's eyes were only able to see (Y/n)'s dazzling smile. The sake had relaxed her, allowing her sweet and funny personality to bubble forward.

Juubei loved it, he loved seeing her so happy. It was absolutely contagious, and he wanted to see more of it. "Hey Master, I wanted to thank you." Juubei had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed she was focused on him, the look in her tender (E/c) orbs made him fall apart. "It's no problem at all... Perhaps we should make this a nightly ritual? It would be a nice way to decompress..." His words came out soft and the shimmering smile on her face almost glowed, he couldn't help the next words to leave his lips. "Getting to see you smile and laugh helps to ease the day..." Her eyes had widened slightly,  Juubei suddenly became aware of the words that left him and the sudden revelation and panic rendered him speechless. Though before he could process anything something else had left him speechless, it had been her silky lips. (Y/n) had leaned forward to kiss him, her hands pressed to the tatami mats. It took only seconds for him to return the kiss, he had longed to wrap his arms around her but with his arms and legs gone he was unable to do so. But the thought of letting her be in control in such a way really did something for him, the alcohol had his blood and brain spiraling into a boil.

In moments he was on his back, the moon light revealed to him a beautiful scene. Her hair was a lovely mess as it fell lazily about, her (E/c) orbs were glossy and narrowed in a sweetly seductive way. Her plump cheeks were flush, and she was biting her lip as she gazed down at him while she sat up on her knees to lean over him, her kimono was slightly open from all the movement and one side hung off her flawless shoulder and revealed her (S/t) porcelain skin to his eyes. "Master, you've always been so sweet with me... I care for you quite a bit... So, will you let me worship and love you? My master~?" These words had Juubei absolutely entrapped, this situation appealed to his drunken mind and so he simply nodded his head. And with that she was on him, the night was spent in ecstasy as the two became one. On this night Juubei had decided she HAD to be his, as she slept beside him beneath her opened haori Juubei smirked at the ceiling as she had certainly earned her rest. This was it, in the morning he'd tell her of his feelings. He would claim her as his own, screw what the others thought. She was no longer his servant; she was his princess.

#candy cult vault #basilisk #Juubei Jimushi #x reader #fem reader #Juubei x reader #basilisk fluff #fluff

[itsonlythee-sims]

just like everyone else, I've gotten really into playing Baldur's Gate 3 (and messing around with blender instead of prepping for a con in October, whoops)

today, instead of doing said con prep, I've started yet another 2 Sims meshes - looking at doing a retro Asian style wood fired stove and also a Japanese irori hearth - the ones I know of that already exist are too alpha for me so I wanted to try to make some (functional!) maxis match ones, if I could.

at the very least, the irori should work as a dining table or at least a coffee table, possibly have heat functionality or fire vfx. I was wondering if it might be possible to add hot drinks functionality to it, since a teapot is a common feature of these

the wood stove should be simpler in terms of function but I was thinking about looking into limiting the available recipes to what might make sense to cook over this type of stove, whether it has an oven component or not (the one by yellowjealousy has the oven part). I was inspired by a bunch of random Chinese cc I had downloaded in the past that are high poly/photo textured, trying to simplify those meshes and textures as mostly a personal challenge. I really like cohesion in my games wherever possible.

anyway, BG3 is really good. just got to the point where Halsin is playable and I got him to go bearmode on some fey freaks last night - satisfying to see this huge dude hulk out on these enemies before they could wreck our shit. I think we're almost at the point of no return before act 3

#non sims #also Sims at the same time #Eli update #itsonlythee-sims #wip #talking about s4cc

[bunny-hoodlum]

The Kotatsu Compromise - part two

NaruHina | Eventually E-Rated | Blank Period | Wintery Fluff and Smut where Hinata seeks out creative ways to hide from Naruto while satisfying both of their baser desires.

Part One |

The longer they stayed in their cocoon, the longer he held her tight against him, the more his hand itched to move and memorize her curves, every muscle in his body tensing and yearning for her. He always caught himself when his heart would race faster than he could breathe, granted the barest of exasperation from Kurama helped to break his increasingly perverse train of thought, too.

Naruto cracked his usual, overly upbeat grin to mask the rising awkwardness warring just beneath the surface.

"We should sit, huh?"

She tilted her head, her large, beautiful eyes searching him, but he didn't give her a chance to respond as he released her. He pulled the blanket from his shoulders and wrapped her up tight. The sudden chill that sank through his pajamas cleared the remaining daze from his head, and all that was left was a playful impatience. He moved behind her, hands on her shoulders as he pushed her in the direction of his bedroom.

Gone was that little old card table that sat between his bed and tv, and in its place was a heavy wooden kotatsu. Hinata helped him convert it as she centered the comforter between the frame and the tabletop and he attached the electric warmer underneath. Upon plugging it in, he and Hinata quickly tucked themselves in the kotatsu's comfort, burying their toes before scooting closer, snuggling tighter, until the hem of the comforter was drawn up to their chests. They surrendered to the steadily building warmth, their faces melting into dopey contentment.

"I never wanna leave," he sighed happily. He never wanted Hinata to leave either if he was being honest. Sharing this warmth with her, having her petite body flushed against his side, he couldn't imagine anything better.

"Same," Hinata giggled. "I always wanted one of these in my room, but father used to say if I wanted to get warm, then I should train or seek out the irori. I suppose he always knew I would never leave my room if I had a kotatsu."

Naruto shook his head at the image. Despite how lightly she spoke of this memory, he could do nothing about the small pit of distaste forming in his stomach. There still wasn't a whole lot he knew or understood. Even if he could try to give Hiashi the benefit of the doubt, no, Naruto always assumed the worst.

"This is long overdue, Hinata," he said somberly as he turned and gazed down into her face. Her flawless cheeks pinkened, then deepened to a rosy hue as the depth of his words sank into her. She was utterly precious to him. Truly.

Her shoulders rose up as she ducked her head down, and she began wiggling, broadcasting her self-consciousness on every open channel.

"I wish I had skipped class with you at least once."

"Oh?" he blinked as he tried to connect her random admission to what he said. The thought of Hinata tagging along with him and the boys, it made him smile. He would have liked that.

"And I wish I could have attended the summer festivals with the civilians, instead of the designated time they gave to the Four Elite Clans."

Long overdue. He repeated to himself. He stayed quiet as he listened to her regrets, however small.

"And I wish... I had been able to say goodbye back then." She laid the side of her head atop her knees, bashfulness painting her face a ruddy color as she watched him with hesitant eyes.

"'Back then'?"

But she didn't elaborate. He responded to her silence by smoothing his hand over hers, and her lashes lowered with the length of her quiet sigh.

"It's nothing, actually. You didn't see it," she brightened with false light, her tiny smile both strained and relieved at the same time, and it rubbed him the wrong way.

'You didn't see it', as in this wasn't a memory the genjutsu showed him. His chest tightened, leadening his breath in his lungs.

They wouldn't be together now if he hadn't seen her memories. Maybe they never would've gotten together. Ever. The things she hadn't voluntarily shared with him, she would have let things go on like that.

Denying him.

Hiding from him.

Resigning herself to the least immediately painful path.

She doesn't want to volunteer this particular memory to him, either.

He's the love of her life, but he doesn't get all of her. Not yet, anyway.

He gripped her hand, reassuring her just as she had done for him, but he didn't say anything.

He didn't push her.

#naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #blank period

[fawn-eyed-girl]

Hi Fawn-Eyed-Girl, I’ve been enjoying your “The Hidden Hanyō” story and I wanted to ask if you possibly share chapter previews for future chapters before you release new chapter updates? :)

Hello there, @sunsetskys, and thank you so much for the ask!

You bet I can! And since I couldn't get my act together today to post any new chapters (I'm home sick and super foggy today 😩 ), I hope that this little preview will make up for it! This is from chapter 3, which will probably be out in two weeks or so? Preview under the cut!

Mushin’s hut was average-size, and decorated sparsely; an irori sat in the middle of the hut, there was a futon rolled up in the corner, and a roughly hewn table rested in the opposite corner, covered with a mess of bottles and cups and bowls. 

“Tea?” he asked her, and when Kagome shook her head no, he busied himself restarting the fire in the irori as Kagome went to the table and got him a cup for his sake. She joined him at the irori, where he now had the fire blazing and a kettle on the iron hook. As he prepared her tea, she popped open the sake, poured him a cup, and handed it to him, her eyes bright and expectant. Mushin offered her the tea before he accepted the sake and took a long sip, then sighed, closing his eyes briefly, before he turned back to Kagome.

“All right,” he said to her. “Now. What do you need help with?”

Kagome paused, and took a deep breath, holding her teacup tightly, trying to figure out where to begin. “I’m looking for a missing Hanyō,” she said. “One that disappeared fifty years ago. One with a unique yōki signature, that should be easy to detect, but so far…”

“Nothing,” Mushin said, his voice quavering a little from the sake. 

“Nothing,” Kagome agreed.

Mushin was quiet for several moments, sipping his sake and staring into the fire. Kagome’s feet were starting to fall asleep from her kneeling position, but she bore it as best she could, gripping her teacup; she didn’t want to disrupt Mushin’s line of thought.

At last, he spoke, and Kagome leaned forward to better hear him, her heart pounding with the anticipation of his words.

“Fifty years ago,” he began, “in the town of Edo, a great yōkai attacked, and a miko and a local woman were killed. The rumor was that he descended on the town looking for a Hanyō child, but there were no Hanyō babies there. So the story has been cast aside as rumor, as a tall tale, but…”

“That could be the Hanyō I’m looking for,” Kagome said, setting down her cup of tea, “if the story is true.”

“Aye,” replied Mushin wisely, “it could be.”

#inuyasha fanfiction #the hidden hanyo #sunsetskys #fawnie answers #previews #inukag #inuyasha x kagome

[felixandresims]

Hello again:),

The Kyoto Set part 2 is finished. It consists of 33 Objects with a focus on interior items this time.

I see Japanese interiors as a mix of Minimalism with hints of traditional items giving you a Zen feeling. I wanted lower types of seating, which look like you can easily disassemble and repurpose them. Traditional items for this month are the Irori hearth( Needs Outdoor Retreat to work), under-stair storage, Imari vases, Koinobori, and a Kimono and Haori Display. To clutter the end table, plant stand, and shelf, I created a Geisha Head, a Maneki Neko, a Bonsai, and an Ikebana Vase. Additionally, this set includes a Futon bed and bedding with matching Tatami mats.

You find the Public Download Link here or here

#ts4 cc #ts4 cc finds #ts4 cc mm #maxis match #Asian #japanese #felixandresims #kyoto