They've both married and retired, a cute little one shot. Half dedicated to Victor's belated birthday. (100% sfw)
The morning sunlight spilled through the sheer curtains of their modest home by the sea, casting golden streaks on the wooden floors. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as Victor hummed a tune, barefoot in the kitchen. He wore a loose sweater and pajama pants, his silver hair still slightly mussed from sleep.
"Yuri, dear, if you don’t get up soon, I will eat your share of breakfast!" Victor called, his voice sing-song.Yuri groaned from their bedroom, pulling the blankets tighter around him. "It’s Sunday, Victor. Can’t we stay in bed a little longer?"
Victor appeared in the doorway with two steaming mugs of coffee. "If you stay in bed, you’ll miss the sunrise over the water," he teased, handing Yuri his mug. "Besides, we have to take Makkachin for his walk."
Reluctantly, Yuri sat up, the warm drink coaxing him awake. He smiled at his husband, who was already pulling on a coat. "You’re too energetic" Yuri muttered, though his tone was fond.
Victor laughed. "Retirement doesn’t mean we stop moving, my love. Come on, I want to show you something."
Bundled up against the crisp morning air, they strolled along the rocky shoreline with Makkachin bounding ahead. Victor kept glancing at Yuri, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
What’s with that look?" Yuri asked, narrowing his eyes.Victor stopped and gestured toward the horizon. "Look."
The sea stretched out before them, the waves tinged with hues of pink and gold as the sun climbed higher. Yuri’s breath hitched at the sight. It was stunning, but what caught his attention more was Victor’s expression—soft, adoring, and entirely focused on him.
"Victor..." Yuri began, but Victor cut him off.
"I know we’ve had quiet days like this before, but they never get old," Victor said, slipping his hand into Yuri’s. "Every morning with you feels like a new beginning."
Yuri blushed, leaning into Victor’s side. "You’re so dramatic," he muttered, though his heart swelled at the words.
Victor grinned. "It’s part of my charm."They continued their walk, talking about everything and nothing—the new skaters Victor was mentoring, the small cafe Yuri had discovered in town, and plans to visit Yuri's family in Japan for the New Year. It was a simple life, but it was theirs.
Back at home, Yuri found Victor in the living room, flipping through an old photo album. "Look at us," Victor said, pointing to a picture from their wedding. "We were so young."
Yuri sat beside him, laughing softly. "It wasn’t that long ago."Victor tilted his head. "Maybe not, but we’ve come so far. From the ice to here... it’s been a journey, hasn’t it?"
"Yeah," Yuri agreed, resting his head on Victor’s shoulder. "But I wouldn’t trade it for anything."
Victor kissed the top of Yuri’s head. "Neither would I."
As the day went on, they settled into their routines—cooking lunch together, playing with Makkachin, and eventually curling up on the couch to watch old skating performances. Their life wasn’t as glamorous as it once was, but it was full of love, laughter, and the quiet certainty that they’d always have each other.
And that, they both knew, was worth more than any gold medal.
Contains: I dunno just Grelle, you meet her for the first time at a café, modern AU, I she's awesome, I might make a part two
Enjoy
The bell above the café door chimed softly as you stepped inside, shaking off the chill of the foggy London streets. You weren’t sure what had drawn you to this cozy corner shop, but it was cute, and you were lonely, and you had time on your hands.
There, in a splash of vivid red among the muted browns and greys of the room, sat Grelle. Her scarlet hair cascaded over her shoulders, glinting in the light, and her trademark glasses caught the glow of the setting sun streaming through the window. She was breathtaking.
You swallowed hard, clutching your bag. Grelle’s laughter rang out like wind chimes as she spoke to the barista, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. You didn’t mean to stare, but something about her was magnetic. Maybe it was the way she stood out in the room, or the unapologetic flair in her every movement.
She caught your eye as you stood frozen in the doorway. A mischievous grin spread across her face. Before you could look away, Grelle stood and strode over to you, her heels clicking against the polished wood floor.
“Well, well, what have we here?” she purred, stopping just inches away. “You look positively lost, darling. Allow me to rescue you.”
You blinked, caught off guard by her directness. “I—uh, I was just…” You trailed off, heat rushing to your cheeks as she tilted her head, studying you like a work of art.
“You were just mesmerized by me, weren’t you?” she teased, flipping her hair dramatically. “Don’t worry, love, it happens all the time. Come, sit with me. I simply must know more about you.”
Before you could protest, Grelle hooked her arm through yours and guided you to her table. The barista brought over a steaming cup of tea for Grelle, and she ordered a drink for you as well.
“You’re quite the charmer,” you managed, still flustered but unable to stop smiling.
“Oh, I don’t believe in subtlety,” she replied, leaning forward with a wicked glint in her eye. “Life’s too short for half-measures. You either live boldly or not at all.”
The time flew by as you talked, her charisma drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Grelle had stories for days, and she listened intently as you shared your own. When the shop finally began to close for the night, you felt an inexplicable pang of dread, knowing you two would have to part soon.
As you stood to leave, Grelle reached out, moving a lock of hair from your face. “You know,” she said softly, her usual bravado melting into something gentler, “I think we make quite the pair. Don’t be a stranger, darling.”
She handed you a card with her number scrawled in elegant handwriting.
Your heart fluttered as you walked into the cool night air, her laughter still ringing in your ears. You decided that fate was a funny thing.
In which there's no more work left to do for now, so you and your twin brother get up to trouble...!
Just a silly little oneshot
I mostly refer to Dazai as 'Osamu', because that is his given name. And if you were his twin sibling, you'd both have the given name 'Dazai', so he'd be referred to as 'Osamu' to avoid confusion.
*.✧
It was an unusually quiet day at the Armed Detective Agency. No cases, no emergencies, and no interruptions—just the dull hum of the air conditioner and the sound of idle pens tapping on desks. For once, the city didn’t need its quirky band of ability-wielding detectives.
"Ah, how peaceful!" Osamu exclaimed, dramatically flopping onto the couch in the corner. "Finally, a day to embrace sweet, sweet nothingness!"
"Don’t get too comfortable," Kunikida snapped, glaring over his glasses. "We need to stay sharp for when the next case comes in."
"You're such a buzzkill, Kunikida," you teased from your seat across the room, leaning back with an easy grin. As Osamu's twin sibling, you were no stranger to chaos—or to poking fun at the ever-serious Kunikida.
Osamu perked up, sensing mischief. "Oh, dear sibling of mine, shall we lighten the mood?"
"Oh, absolutely," you replied with a sly smile.
Atsushi, who had been quietly sipping tea, shifted nervously. "Uh… I don’t think that’s a good idea."
Ignoring the poor tiger boy’s protest, Osamu shot to his feet, grabbed a stack of Kunikida's meticulously organized notebooks, and held them high above his head.
"Dazai! Put those down!" Kunikida yelled, lunging forward.
"But Kunikida-kun, your notebooks are so fascinating!" Osamu dodged easily, handing the stack to you.
With perfect synchronization, you took off running around the office, playing keep-away with Kunikida’s precious notebooks. Osamu laughed gleefully, dodging and weaving around desks. "Catch us if you can, Kunikida!"
"Enough of this nonsense!" Kunikida’s face was turning as red as a tomato.
Meanwhile, Yosano sat at her desk, smirking as she casually painted her nails. "This is far more entertaining than any soap opera."
Ranpo, sitting cross-legged on his chair, munched on snacks. "I’ll bet you 5 bags of gummy bears Kunikida catches them in the next five minutes."
"Deal," Yosano replied, holding out her hand to shake on it. "...Wait, that's not fair! Of course you already know what's going to happen."
Atsushi, meanwhile, was frantically trying to restore order. "Guys, please stop! What if the president walks in?!"
Just as the chaos reached its peak, the door to the office creaked open. Everyone froze. Standing in the doorway was Fukuzawa, his piercing gaze sweeping over the scene: Kunikida panting and furious, you and Osamu holding the notebooks like a pair of mischievous kids caught red-handed, and everyone else clearly enjoying the spectacle.
There was a long, tense silence.
"…Carry on," Fukuzawa said simply, before closing the door and walking away.As soon as he left, the room erupted into laughter. Even Kunikida couldn’t help but crack a small, begrudging smile.
"Well, (Y/N)," Osamu said, draping an arm around your shoulder. "I’d say today was a job well done."
You grinned. "Always happy to help keep things interesting."
And with that, peace returned to the ADA—well, as much peace as one could expect when you and Osamu were around.
Rising From The Ashes || G. Sutcliffe - Part 2/2 - GN Reader
Check out Part 1 if you haven't yet!
<3
It had been some time since that rainy night under the streetlamp, and Grelle’s words still rang in your ears. Life, for a brief moment, had felt lighter—but the days had their way of wearing you down. Despite everything, despite all her encouragement, doubt was creeping in once more.
That was when Grelle appeared again.
It was a foggy evening, the kind where the streetlamps only barely cut through the mist that blanketed the city. You’d been wandering aimlessly, lost in thought, when a familiar flash of crimson caught your eye. Grelle Sutcliff was there, as if by magic, leaning against a lamppost with an elegant nonchalance.
“Darling,” she greeted, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “What’s a lonely soul like you doing out on a night like this?”
You chuckled softly, feeling a wave of relief at her presence. “Maybe I just needed… something,” you admitted. “The strength you spoke of—it’s harder to hold on to than I thought.”
She took your arm without hesitation, guiding you into the quiet embrace of an alleyway. The city sounds faded as she led you to a secluded garden, overgrown yet enchanting, hidden between the walls of old buildings. A wrought-iron bench sat beneath a twisted tree, and there, she invited you to sit.
Grelle settled beside you, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “Strength isn’t something you just hold onto, my dear,” she murmured. “It’s something you rekindle over and over, like a flame.” She leaned forward, her voice a mere whisper. “It’s okay to feel lost, to stumble. But remember—you’re still here. Despite everything.”
The words wrapped around your heart, filling spaces you hadn’t known were empty. She was right. Here you were, seated beside her under a canopy of mist, still breathing, still alive.
Grelle reached over and gently took your hand in her own, her emerald eyes blazing with a quiet, fierce conviction. “Let me show you something.” She pointed to a broken piece of wrought iron on the ground, barely visible in the fog. “That iron was once part of a gate, standing tall. Now, it's fallen, cracked... but look closer.”
She leaned down, brushing away the dirt, revealing tiny green shoots that had sprouted around it. “Even in the worst places, life finds a way to return. It’s what we do, darling. We rise from what tried to bury us, not because we’re immune to pain, but because that’s where our strength lies.”
You felt a warmth blossom in your chest, something strong and unbreakable. You squeezed her hand, and a small, hopeful smile tugged at your lips. “So… we’re like that iron gate,” you said softly. “Not perfect, maybe broken, but still here. Still alive.”
Grelle smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “Exactly.” She lifted your hand to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. “We’re survivors, darling. And together, we’ll face anything.”
Rise From The Flames || G. Sutcliffe - Part 1/2 (GN Reader
Grelle helps you when you're feeling down <3
Fluff
★(again, also on my Wattpad, ch. 2 of my Grelle One shots)★
—☆*.✧♡
The flickering light of the streetlamp cast long, wavering shadows across the cracked pavement. It was a cold night, one that seeped into your bones despite the layers of coats and scarves wrapped around you. You’d been sitting on the damp, cold ground for what felt like hours, watching the occasional drops of rain spatter against the puddles. Everything felt bleak, like the universe had conspired to drag you down to this very moment—sitting alone and empty, nursing wounds that only you could feel.
Until a familiar, crimson shadow slinked into view.
“Now, darling, what are you doing sulking on such a miserable night?” The sultry voice was unmistakable. Grelle Sutcliff, dressed as extravagantly as ever in her crimson coat and black heels, sauntered toward you, her emerald eyes glinting with mischief and a hint of concern.
You looked up, surprised and a little ashamed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “Just... hit rock bottom, I guess,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off, but the sadness seeped through.
Grelle’s expression softened as she knelt beside you, completely unbothered by the wet ground. “Sweetheart, I’ve been to rock bottom more times than I can count,” she whispered, her voice a surprising mix of warmth and fire. “And you know what? Every time, I came back stronger, more fierce, and more unapologetically myself.”
Her words sparked something in you—a reminder that, despite everything, you were still here. That there was strength in surviving the worst moments, even if just barely.
You looked up at her, feeling the corners of your mouth curl slightly despite the heaviness in your chest. “But how? How do you keep going after feeling like this?”
Grelle chuckled, extending a perfectly manicured hand to you. “Because, darling,” she said, pulling you up with surprising strength, “we are made of fire and willpower. We’ve faced worse than this, haven’t we?”
Standing beside her, you could feel the weight of your struggles shift, if only a little. She was right. You had survived so much already, and so had she.
As you walked together under the moonlight, Grelle's arm around your shoulder, she continued. “We might fall to the depths, but we claw our way back up. Life can be brutal, but so are we. And when all’s said and done—at least we’re still alive.”
You nodded, her confidence and strength seeping into you, making you feel alive and ready to rise again.
Best friend! Grelle Sutcliffe x Depressed!GN! Reader <3
I just like her a lot and I think she's beautiful, so here's a oneshot I wrote about her!
｡*ﾟ+(This is also written on my Wattpad, the first chapter of my Grelle one shots book)｡*ﾟ+
｡*ﾟ+*.✧—☆
The world feels like it’s drained of color, like someone turned down the vibrancy of everything around you. You sit alone in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the patterns of light and shadow dancing across the walls as the sun sets outside. There’s an ache in your chest, a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe, let alone smile.
A sudden, loud knock at the door startles you. You hesitate, wondering if you can find the energy to respond. But the knock comes again, this time followed by an unmistakable voice,
"Oh, darling, don’t leave me waiting out here! I might faint from the indignity!”
You can’t help the small, reluctant smile that tugs at your lips as you stand and head to the door, opening it to reveal Grelle Sutcliffe in all her flashy, bold glory. Her red coat, vibrant hair, and crimson lipstick make her look like she’s stepped out of another world and brought its color with her.
Without waiting for an invitation, Grelle steps inside, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the state of your apartment—and of you. She softens instantly, closing the door behind her with an unusually gentle touch. “Oh, darling,” she murmurs, her gaze tender. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
You sigh, feeling exhaustion settle deeper into your bones. “It… feels like that,” you admit quietly, not meeting her eyes.
In a rare moment of silence, Grelle reaches out, pulling you into a warm, unexpected hug. She smells like roses and something deeper, like the warmth of a bonfire. She holds you tight, letting you simply exist in that comforting embrace.
After a moment, she pulls back, one hand lingering on your shoulder as she looks you over with a look of fierce protectiveness. “You know, I have impeccable taste, and I choose my friends wisely,” she says with a small smile. “Which means I can say, without a doubt, that you’re magnificent—even if you can’t see it right now."
Her words cut through the fog surrounding you, and something in her expression tells you she’s not just saying this out of kindness. She means every word.
Grelle grabs your hand, her eyes twinkling with the glimmer of an idea. “Come with me, love. Just for a little while. Let me show you a piece of the world through my eyes.”
Before you can protest, she’s pulling you out of the apartment and down the street. You find yourself weaving through the city, her presence beside you a steady anchor. She chats with you about anything and everything—distracting you with wild stories, dramatic commentary, and sly jokes that actually pull a few reluctant laughs from you.
At some point, you end up on a bridge overlooking the city lights, and Grelle leans over the edge, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, darling! All these lights, all this life. You’re a part of this world, and it’s lucky to have you.” Her eyes glimmer as she looks at you. “I’m lucky to have you.”
For a moment, the heavy weight inside you feels lighter, like Grelle has managed to lift it a little with her presence alone. She turns to you with a mischievous smile, her eyes filled with that infectious spark of life.
“So, here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, I’m coming back, and we’ll do this all over again. I’ll be your annoying, fabulous best friend, and you’ll have to put up with it.” She winks. “Who knows? Maybe tomorrow i can help you see a little bit of what I see in you.”
You can’t help but smile, a real one this time, small but genuine. And as you look at Grelle, standing there in the glow of the city lights, you realize that maybe—just maybe—things won’t always feel so heavy.
And as she pulls you into another fierce hug, you feel that sliver of hope settle in your chest, thanks to the friend who refuses to let you be anything less than cherished.
