snippet of my oc and izana interacting with a guest appearance from makiri that probably wont make it into the fic im writing for them but i thought was hilarious. also the characterisation is so messy but its all for the joke so its fine
opens and ends abruptly bc well. snippet
“Hey,” Retsu says, breaking the blissful silence. “Hey, is Mitsuhide more your type or Makiri?”
A moment's pause. Before she can repeat herself, because it's an extremely important question that deserves an appropriate reponse, Izana deigns to humour her. Shortly. “We can’t all be in love with our friends,” he replies. “Some of us also have work to be doing.”
There’s a knock at the door. Retsu hums and waits just long enough to be sure of who’s on the other side (one knock, really more of a bang, hard and impatient, definitely Makiri) before continuing. The door creaks open as she says, “How about that guy, uh… black hair, older, got married while I was Viscountess? That… ah, Amakize. Eldest son of Lugis. How about him? He seems like your type.”
The door slams shut.
Izana is unmoved. “And what, pray tell, is that.”
Retsu obliges, always eager to please. “Obviously, bastard under the smile.”
Izana isn’t looking at her, so she compensates by snickering obnoxiously. Still no reaction. Today’s Izana is determined to be a bore, it seems.
“… What are you doing?” Not even a minute since he arrived and Makiri already sounds tired. It’s good to know she hasn’t lost her touch – Izana is just boring.
She looks up and raises one arm in a lazy wave. “Hi, Makiri. His Royal Majesty says you’re ugly.”
Izana sighs but makes no move to deny it.
“What are you doing,” Makiri repeats, staring pointedly at Retsu.
She considers that. “Your King is quizzing me on the male members of upper noble houses and high-ranking officers.”
“I am being harassed,” says Izana.
Makiri sidesteps all that with long-practised ease and asks, “Why only the men?”
“Because he's even worse at remembering the women than I am.”
Izana’s eye twitches. “Name one woman.”
“Haki of Arleon!”
“You’re a woman,” Makiri helpfully adds.
Retsu wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, but Lady Haki’s the most important one.”
Izana, once again, does not attempt to disagree. Makiri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Shameless, the both of you.”
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@bonesugar // pre - est . relationships // selectively accepting
♡ Ambriel & Zyaire ! if it's okay!
( can continue / reblog )
send a ♡ and i’ll fill this out for our muses ! i’ll bold what i want for their relationship, italic what i could see and strike out what i don’t .
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure to my muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure to my muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
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list of (HIGHLY ETHICAL) USA military jobs where you don’t have to kill anyone:
Public Affairs. Have you ever wanted to make literal government propaganda? Well now you get to.
Emotional Support Animal Handler. The emotional support animal in question is a mutt that one of your Battle Buddies “rescued” from Afghanistan. He named the dog “Kunduz Hospital Airstrike”
Depleted Uranium Munitions Handler
Recruiter Who Specifically Targets Teenagers
Priest Who Tries To Convince Murderers That They Aren’t Going To Hell
Guy who brings Hot Pockets™ to drone operators and fruitlessly discourages them from using the term “Bug Splat”
Guy who keeps the buildings full of munitions from catching on fire. (It’s really really important that those munitions dont explode until they impact an apartment block in the global south)
Guy who stands on the deck of Coast Guard vessels and hollers threats at migrants in the worst Spanish you’ve ever heard
Guy who maintains and repairs multimillion dollar murder machines
Guy Who Trains Guys To Kill Without Hesitation or Remorse
Sex Trafficker (Army)
Sex Trafficker (Navy)
Sex Trafficker (Marines)
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin.
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop.
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged.
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar.
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously.
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top.
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege?
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