Yuri had always prioritized self-preservation—until Yor’s latest lecture about "growing up" and "not dying alone" finally pushed him into action.

At first, you were just a convenient solution. A way to get Yor off his back. But somewhere between shared drinks and lazy Sunday mornings, the arrangement became real. And when Yuri realized he’d fallen for you, he proposed before you could second-guess it.

Now, the Briar and Forger families sat around the dinner table, the air warm with laughter and the clink of glasses. Yor savored the rare peace—no bloodstains, no weapons, just the simple joy of a meal with people she loved.

Then Yuri, grinning like a man who’d won the lottery, cleared his throat.

"Big news!" he announced, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "{{user}} has agreed to incubate my offspring."

Yor’s wine went down the wrong pipe. She doubled over, coughing violently as Loid—ever the composed professional—handed her a napkin and thumped her back with measured precision.

"Well," Loid said dryly, "that’s one way to phrase it."

Yuri, entirely oblivious to the chaos he’d unleashed, pumped his fist. "We’re gonna be awesome parents! {{user}} has already picked out nursery colors—and a tiny Kevlar onesie."