Anyone Whos Perused My Blog Will Know That I Have Very Simple Tastes, And Thats Pretty Gorgeous Men And

Anyone who’s perused my blog will know that I have very simple tastes, and that’s pretty gorgeous men and ABO dynamics. 

Now, I know next to nothing about Onmyoji, but I know a little something about the Douji duo, and there’s no way I can just let them be; so, imagine with me an omega!Ibaraki as the de facto Queen of the Demons. 

He and alpha!Shuten aren’t married, but since they’re often seen in each other’s company, and the ancient world can’t imagine an alpha-omega pair that spends that much time together and aren’t also married, everyone just kinda assumes they are. Shuten will protest when he’s asked, esp. when he’s flirting with other pretty things, but no one really believes him. His actions don’t match his words. (Some will whisper words of pity for Ibaraki when the Demon King has his back turned.) Ibaraki himself insists he’s simply his righthand man and best friend, but there’s a fine—and I mean really fine—line between queen and righthand in his case. 

A child between ShuIba is probably raised solely by their mother, while their father is off gallivanting and terrorizing the country of Japan. If he does bother to show his face, Shuten acts more like a friend of the family—happy to play around with them but not too keen on doing the hard stuff. “That’s an omega’s job,” he says, and Ibaraki isn’t going to correct him. If anything, he probably believes that, too, and imagines his unofficial husband has better things to do. (A progressive Ibaraki might chalk it up to Shuten’s declining dignity and increased drunken stupors post-resurrection; he doesn’t know what he’s saying.) 

Mt. Oe is in the de facto queen’s care following Shuten’s return to the living and subsequent neglect of the land. When he’s not chasing down his drunken, lecherous friend, he’s listening to the complaints and worries of the local spirits and resolving pressing matters. Honestly, Shuten probably didn’t have a knack for administrative work to begin with and just ran everything over with his brute strength, leaving Ibaraki to handle things with more finesse; so, it’s not like he hasn’t done this song and dance a thousand times before. He just wishes Shuten were half the king he used to be to make the maintenance worth it.  

Maguu Kenki!TomoKazu

Together. TmKz are Maguu Kenki together. 🐱🍁>👹

They're tragically beautiful but equally terrifying, reminding you of some sorta Dark Souls boss since one is massive and fully-armored; and in one arm, he cradles the other who's fragile and nestles against him.

Even as husks of their former selves, TmKz still display overt affection for one another. Tomo is always careful to not jostle Kazu around too much, which remains true even in the heat of battle; and Kazuha speaks words of love and comfort, his quiet voice the only thing that keeps his dearest from entering a frenzy. When idle, you can catch Kazu planting little kisses against Tomo's helm and receive gentle strokes on his head from a large hand in return. They're a as pitiful as they are deadly.

Tomo's unhindered with Kazuha occupying a whole arm—he can wield his giant sword in one hand and mow down enemies with scary effectiveness. His unnatural command over cryo is abetted by Kazuha, whose anemo swirls and turns the battlefield into an icy-cold hell. He laments his lost ability to wield his own sword, however. In his crippled state, he adopted catalyst techniques. Not that the couple's captors gave him much choice.

Listen, would anyone indulge me and entertain my TmKz power fantasy where Tomo still dies, but Kazu's a nine-tailed fox that tears Ei's puppet asunder, furiously searching for her when he discovers that's what the Shogun is?

It's equal parts sad and satisfying. The sadness comes from Tomo's death and Kazuha's survivor's guilt. As a powerful yokai who could've won a seat amongst the Seven millennia ago, he should've been there to eat the wretch before she could summon her sword. How could he've let another his most precious person die needlessly? He's learned nothing from his disgustingly long existence!

My satisfaction comes from watching this colossal fox that stands as high as the main building in Tenshukaku utterly demolish Raiden Ei's little to- puppet and forcing her to confront him in person. He demands retribution, recompense, revenge, whatever you wanna call it. He has half a mind to deprive Inazuma of their god. The only one who can put a stop to Kazuha's rampage is his lover, Tomo, and he's dead; so, there's a fat chance someone can use Talk no Jutsu on him. Alternatively, and this is a very slight alteration, Kazu reveals his true form when the Resistance storms Tenshukaku, ripping the head off the Shogun as she attempts to murder Aether.

He’s his Emotional Support Archon™️.

I’m sorry I just needed to get it out of my system

Rex Lapis, except he can control the size of the dragon he turns into.

Tartaglia, holding tiny Rex Lapis in his hands & nearly crying because this is the most precious thing in his entire freaking life while said dragon god is oblivious and doesn’t understand why his red-headed mortal suddenly got so emotional.

SMOL POCKET SIZE REX LAPIS.

What I like the most about this lore is that Madara’s not a god of death and warfare. He’s more akin to the Greek goddess Hestia, who presided over the hearth and home. If Tobirama retaliated by kidnapping Izuna, he’d have a connection to Demeter, too.  

Madara as an elder god. ❤ (Part 2 of the Naruto Gods series)

Madara winces as the molten slag on his arms contracts and hardens with each touch of the field of frigid stalagmites. He flicks off the gathering obsidian shard and assesses his counterpart–takes stock of the strong, slow beat of Kakuzu’s heart in Tobirama’s chest and how it mirrors his own. They share a similar form, if not function, that much is obvious. Why their creator sought to have this heart container in particular brought to heel is beyond him. Madara finds that, though fire roars in his veins, he does not have a taste for senseless destruction.

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Imagine if Madara were on his deathbed with Hashirama by his side, but before he can die himself, Hashirama becomes a wooden statue decorated in stunning foliage with his hand forever in Madara’s. Madara sheds a tear and curses him for dying on him like that, but he’s smiling, and he breathes his final breath. At least he’s not leaving alone.

how to heal

hashirama doesn’t look any older, but madara can tell. his chakra is wilder, harder to tame. it feels less and less human, and more and more…something else. his limbs are stiff and they creak like old wood, and sometimes when he sits very still for a long time (as he tends to do more and more often now) madara is afraid he’ll never move again. he creates plants more, without meaning to, and more than once madara has gone out to the garden and found him covered in creeping tendrils of moss, or had to push back layers of layers of ferns just to find his face and cradle it in his hands. it feels like the forest is slowly—but with steadily increasing urgency—calling him back.

not yet, madara thinks, clasping hashirama’s rough-hewn hand in his own. not yet.