-Love theme of Cinema Paradiso in the background- (I added it to this post on instagram and its so good lol)
My entry for day 2: Date of Twiyor Month @twiyorbase
Do you remember that in one of the 862 dates, they were on a boat? And poor Yor couldn't even sit? Well, I wanted to remake that. I'm in awe at how Loid was so committed to make her feel happy again, he thought of the most romantic scenarios... WE NEED ANOTHER DATE SOON!
Here, it's more of a post-reveal or after they acknowledge their feelings for the other... Yor whispering sweet nothings, meanwhile Loid is just smitten, in awe at how could he be so lucky to be loved by that woman in front of him. I intended to make it fully rendered, but the interesting touch the finish gave it, made me like it even more. I try to give my art heart and soul, no matter how good or bad the drawing, coloring or lines are.
I just know these two compliment each other so well...
Loid and Yor have many scars (both physical and emotional) from their past, but I'm glad to know that they are working to ensure that that doesn't reach Anya, the girl who chose them.
And at the end of the day, even if they still have their secrets and can't be a real family… they are doing something right for Anya and her future.
Chapter 2: Date Interrupted, but Still Perfect (AO3)
Prompts: Date and Picnic
My late Valentine's entry @twiyorbase ^^;
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“Papa! Make sure you give Mama the card I made!” Anya’s energetic voice fills the room as she waves her tiny hand.
“Yes,” Loid answers, his tone tired.
“And don’t forget to give her the best smooch,” Franky adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“I’m not going to—”
But the door slams shut before he can finish. The sound of cheerful laughter and barking echoes from the other side, where Anya, the dog, and the caretaker are already starting to create their usual chaos in the apartment.
Loid groans, wiping his face in frustration. He really needs to make sure none of them turned the apartment into a disaster. If they do, it will ruin his mission: giving Yor a perfect, fun day as part of Operation Strix’s maintenance program.
“But Anya’s smile is worth it.”
Yor would say that. He chuckles at the thought, turning on his heels. He can already hear her voice in his head, reminding him that he would never win that argument.
Today’s mission is to take his wife on a date.
He can’t imagine what kind of gossip would spread around the neighborhood if he forgot this most important date of the year. Everyone will be talking about his “negligence” or even “infidelity” if he didn’t follow through.
Then there is Anya’s story about Becky’s mom getting furious when her friend's dad forgot their wedding anniversary—just thinking about it made Loid break into a cold sweat.
He has been so wrapped up in side missions that he almost forgot the most crucial date of all—the one that truly pushed Operation Strix into motion.
The “real” date they signed their marriage certificate at the courthouse (not the one fabricated for their cover). The day Yor moved into their apartment and agreed to play the role of the Forger matriarch.
Loid has read countless relationship books, and they all had one thing in common: “Happy wife, happy life.” That saying is drilled into him, because his mission depends on the success of his marriage. He has to keep the “happy marriage” vibes intact—at all costs.
So, he made sure all his other assignments were done.
Reports? Submitted.
New side missions? Denied.
Gripping the picnic basket tightly, the blonde spy run through his mental checklist: freshly baked salted caramel dark chocolate pie for dessert, simple egg sandwiches for the savory part. He’d also packed the champagne glasses, carefully wrapped in soft cloth.
The only thing missing was Apfelkorn—essential to complete their simple, yet perfect “watching the sunset together” date at the park that Yor loved.
Determined, he makes his way to the nearest liquor shop he trusts.
When his knuckles rapped on the counter, he expected the usual young man to greet him. Instead, the last person he expects—an elderly woman—appears.
It is the same WISE messenger he’d met during his trip to the Berlint aquarium, the one who’d handed him a message about the penguins.
Twilight adjusts his hat, nodding toward her. “Good evening. Is Stefan not working today?”
The old woman nods. “You’ve got a mission, Twilight—”
“No,” he cuts her off quickly.
A moment of silence follows, then she continues. “This mission is straight from WISE HQ.”
“No,” Loid repeats firmly. “Today’s important for Operation Strix.”
He raises the basket as if to emphasize his point. “If I fail this mission, rumors of a failing marriage will spread like wildfire. It will ruin everything.”
“A picnic?” The messenger raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see how a picnic is more important than retrieving a contraption from terrorists.”
“This picnic,” he said with emphasis, “is at a very memorable place. It’s the key to ensuring the ‘happy wife, happy marriage’ image. Especially today of all days.” He stresses each word, certain a woman of her age will understand the significance of anniversaries.
Loid fights the urge to smirk when the woman’s expression dawns in understanding. It seems that the books he’d read were right—wedding anniversaries mattered.
With that, he continues, “And that’s exactly why I cannot—”
“I get it,” she interrupts him, cutting him off before he could finish.
Loid sighs with relief. “Well then, one bottle of Apfelkorn, please— HEY!”
Before he can finish, the woman grabs the basket from his hands and shoves a thick folder into his empty palms. “Leave your anniversary preparations to me and my team. You go to this location, ASAP!”
“WHAT?!” Loid’s eyes widened. “I said no!”
She grabs his shirt and whispers urgently, “Listen, Twilight. If the terrorists get their hands on those contraptions, who knows how many lives will be lost? The Forger family could be in danger!” She shoves him away. “Go! You’ve got one hour. We’ll make sure your anniversary is perfect down to the smallest detail.”
Before he can respond, the woman slams the booth window shut, disappearing from sight.
Loid growls in frustration, realizing he had no choice but to finish this aggravating mission in under an hour.
He has to get to the park before Yor finished her shift at the City Hall.
With determination, he quickly scans the mission details, commits them to memory, and sprints off, intent on completing it in record time.
.
.
Thorn Princess grunts as she yanks her stiletto from the lifeless body of the umpteenth bodyguard who’d tries to stop her progress toward the mansion’s underground chambers.
She turns and grits her teeth in frustration when she is once again faced with a massive, reinforced steel door.
How many of these doors does he have?
She harrumphs when grinding the lock mechanism beneath her palm. The pressure on her hand makes her fingers sore after the third steel door, but her target—her customer—keeps retreating deeper into his safe chamber.
When Yor received the last-minute assignment from the Shopkeeper, she assumed it would be a quick job—half an hour at most. She never anticipated this frustrating game of cat and mouse would drag on for so long.
And to her exasperation, after finally breaking through the third door, she is met with a sea of bodyguards, but the target himself is nowhere to be seen.
On any other day, she’d gladly play the game until her target exhausted all his resources. But today is different.
Yor has a date with her husband.
Loid has been pushing himself far too hard again, despite their conversation the other day. She guesses he hasn’t lied when he said old habits die hard. So, she is honestly relieved when he asks for a simple picnic date at the park. Perhaps he remembers their conversation, and—just maybe—he’d decided to take a break from his grueling schedule and relax for once.
It feels like an honor that he’d asked her to accompany him during this rare window of rest.
She has agreed to the time and place, and she has to be there on time.
With precision, she takes down the guards in seconds, glancing up at the clock that somehow exists in this underground lair.
She gasps when she sees the time. It is already evening.
Facing yet another steel door, Yor quickly calculates the time. There is no way she’d make it to their meeting spot on time unless she took a shortcut. It will create more work for her afterward, but time is running out.
Instead of struggling to pry open the door, Yor kicks down the walls and immediately pursues her target.
After a relentless chase, she finally catches up with the scum she needs to clean up and surly asks, “Mr. Otis of the auditing board? Would you give me the honor of taking your life?”
Rather than answering her, he screams at his underlings, “What are you doing?!! Finish her off!”
Such manners!! Yor thinks, narrowing her eyes.
With a few swift movements, the job is done.
She searches for the nearest landline and dials the familiar number.
The call is answered immediately. “Flowers for your everyday needs.”
“All the customers have been served,” Yor reports.
“Amazing work, as always.”
“.......-- Thank you.”
Perhaps sensing the hesitancy in her, the voice on the other end asks, “Is there anything else you need?”
Yor fidgets with the phone cord and glances at the clock. Normally, she doesn’t require assistance with the clean-up, but now...
She bites her lip. “Umm... do you mind sending me a helping hand? I might have made a bit of an unintended mess…”
“To the flower plants? Or the flower pots?”
“Uh... both?”
The voice chuckles softly. “No problem. We’ll send a courier to assist you with the problems. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
Yor bows deeply, relieves. “Thank you so much!”
She hangs up the phone and hastily cleans herself and her stilettos in the adjacent washroom, wiping away any remaining blood. Once she is sure there are no traces left, she changes into fresh clothes, neatly wraps her assassin tools, and stores them in the secret compartment of her bag.
Quickly ascending the stairs, she makes it to the mansion’s front door. As soon as her feet hit the yard, she sprints to their designated meeting spot.
But despite running as fast as she could, leaping from rooftops, over fences, and cutting through backyards, Yor still arrives at the park only after the sun has dipped below the horizon.
Panting and frazzled, she scans the park frantically, her heart pounding in her chest. She dreads the thought of Loid being angry or disappointed because she is late.
She catches sight of a small crowd gathering near their spot, now occupied by a performer, but Loid is nowhere in sight.
She searches the park again, but still, no sign of him.
Oh no. Has Loid already gone home? Yor think, panic rising.
Turning on her heels, she makes her way to the park entrance, planning to find a phone booth and call home. Then, just as she is about to leave, she spots Loid at the entrance, clearly out of breath. His eyes are scanning the crowd, most likely looking for her.
Yor releases a deep sigh of relief and waves at him. “Loid, over here!”
.
(Several moments prior)
.
Twilight curses under his breath as this side mission goes off the rails.
Aside from the lack of intel and preparations, he has been forced to crawl through ceiling vents, fight off burly bodyguards, and somehow still end up tumbling into a filthy sewer. And to make matters worse, the warning turned out to be a false alarm. There are no terrorist threats. Just a group of filthy rich old people, secretly gathering to swap rare (and illegally imported) idol cards.
On any other day, he would’ve been relieved to discover there is no immediate danger.
But today, that just adds fuel to his irritation.
He slams the reports onto the table in front of the WISE messenger.
“Oh my, you look—” She wrinkles her nose. “—and ugh, what’s that smell? Agent, you definitely can’t go on a date looking like that.”
Twilight scowls.
“Hey, is that the face I get after we’ve meticulously completed our part and made sure your ‘picnic date’ preparation is flawless?” she teases, pointing to the back of the stall. “Go freshen up over there.”
Twilight sighs and does as told, cleaning himself off as quickly as possible.
He ensures there are no traces of grime left, then puts on the shirt that, strangely, is a little too tight and lacks buttons on the top two parts.
“Aha! As expected. It looks perfect on you, Mr. Forger!” The messenger grins, shoving the picnic basket into his hands. “Don’t forget your meals.”
Before he can respond, she pushes him out the door and winks, giving him a thumbs up. “Go shack up with the gorgeous lady!!”
“I’m not going to—”
Once again, for the third time that day, the door slams in his face.
Suppressing his frustration, Twilight focuses on running as fast as he can. But still, he arrives unceremoniously late to the park.
His blue eyes search frantically among the crowd, scanning for his wife.
All his anxiety melts away when he hears her voice calling out.
Loid’s smile blossoms as he jogs toward her. “Yor, I’m so sorry I’m late.”
To his surprise, she shakes her head and says, “It’s okay. I just got here myself.”
Loid blinks, surprised by the unexpected news. “Something happens at City Hall?”
Yor sheepishly replies, “Well, I… accidentally dropped an entire cabinet of archive folders when I was looking for one specific one. So I had to rearrange them all.”
“How awful. It’s all done though, right?”
She nods. “Yep. I ended up asking for help, but I still got here way later than we planned. How about you? Another emergency patient?”
Twilight scratches the back of his neck and chuckles. “Yeah. And the patient even splashed me with… err… their waste. Thankfully, one of my colleagues had spare clothes, though they’re a bit small, as you can see.”
They both chuckle awkwardly.
“Well, at least the sky still has some orange hues left. So we’re technically here for the sunset.” Yor points at the sky before gesturing toward their picnic spot. “Unfortunately, someone’s taken our spot. I guess we’ll need to find another place.”
Loid frowns. He is sure the messenger lady has reserved that spot for their picnic.
But as Yor has said, a few people have gathered in the area. He squints and sees a small group of band members tuning their instruments, standing awkwardly beside a picnic blanket decorated with hearts and tiny lamps, complete with bold pink letters spelling out, “Love you, my Darling. Be mine.”
Loid groans. It must’ve been that messenger and her team doing it.
“I wonder if they’re promoting a new song or something,” Yor muses.
“Well, we’d better not disturb them,” Loid says, immediately steering Yor away from the cringe-worthy setup.
They end up on the other side of the park, settling on a rusty bench.
“Are you hungry?”
“Oh yes, very much so,” Yor answers “To be honest, I’m most curious about what kind of food you prepared for this moment.”
Loid can’t suppress his grin as a strange sense of pride fills his chest. He opens the basket and grabs… something soggy wrapped in paper.
Huh?
Confused, he looks inside and finds two soggy deli sandwiches, a bottle of dry whiskey, and a folded letter.
He picks up the letter and reads it:
“I’m sorry the cat nibbled on your pie and sandwich. But I’m glad it did.
What kind of pathetic meal was that?! I changed it, of course.
Good food and alcohol are necessary for fornication. 😉👍”
Loid crumples the letter, muttering strings of profanities.
That old hag...!!!
“Loid? Are you okay?” Yor’s concerned face appears in his peripheral vision.
Taking several deep breaths, Loid grits his teeth and whispers, “I’m so sorry, Yor. Some colleague of mine thought it would be funny to prank me today.”
“Oh dear!” His wife gasps. “What did they put in there?”
Loid sheepishly presents the soggy sandwiches. “I have prepared your favorite—sweet egg sandwiches and chocolate pie. But… this…”
“Well, at least it’s still food.”
Loid blinks at his wife’s nonchalant tone, stunned, as she unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite.
“Mmm… it’s actually edible,” she says.
“Really?” Loid’s voice sounds more like a sulking child than an adult, but what else could he do after the universe conspires against him today?
“Mm-hmm… obviously not as good as your amazing egg sandwiches, but it’s still edible.”
He chuckles, watching his wife devour the sad excuse for a sandwich.
Of course, she’ll always see the good in everything. It is one of her most endearing traits.
Yet, it doesn’t stop the pang of guilt in his chest.
“I’m so sorry I ruined everything, Yor.” He sighs, accepting his defeat.
Instinctively, Loid grabs the bottle of whiskey and unscrews the lid. He plans to take a few swigs to drown his humiliation, but slender fingers stop him from tilting the bottle.
“I don’t think that strong of alcohol will do your empty stomach any good, Loid. Besides, you didn’t ruin anything. You’re here now, and that’s the most important part.”
His wife then takes the other sandwich, opens it, and hands it to him. “Here. It’s really not bad. Besides, any food will taste better when eaten with someone else, don’t you think?”
He blinks, looking at her.
He truly is amazed by how easily she turns a bad day into something enjoyable.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He smiles, taking the sandwich from her hand.
He takes a bite. The bread is so soggy it nearly fell apart, the ham is far too salty, the sauce is excessive, and the veggies are wilted. But as she says, eating it together made it bearable.
Or maybe it is just because it is with Yor.
“Ah, I almost forgot,” Loid says, fishing a card from the basket, which thankfully has remained intact. He hands it to Yor. “Anya wants you to have this.”
Yor looks puzzled as she takes the card and opens it. Loid watches carefully as her mouth drops open, and she lets out a soft gasp.
.
.
“Happy Annyavirsary” is written on Anya’s card in colorful lines, with cute drawings of the Forger family. There is even a paw print from Bond.
Then, she hears Loid’s soft whisper. “Happy anniversary, Yor. I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned.”
Her eyes widened.
Has it really been a year?
“I’m sorry, Loid. I didn’t realize today was the anniversary,” she interrupts him.
Loid blinks, and Yor’s heart sinks. “Oh… Oh no. I’m sorry. I should’ve prepared something too, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Loid. I didn’t—”
His chuckles stop her rambling. He snickes. “Ah geez… and here I thought I made you angry for not preparing something more meticulous.”
Yor is stunned. “That’s impossible, Loid. You’ve worked so hard every day, and you always take care of me. I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve let someone like me be part of your family. I don’t think I’ve done enough to—”
“Yor,” he interrupts gently, “You are a godsend. I mean it. I’m the one who feels I haven’t given you enough.”
She tries to speak, but no words came out.
Loid continues, “You’ve shown me how to see the good in this world. There were times I felt frustrated, but your perspective made me realize—it can always be worse.” He waves the remnants of the soggy sandwich. “Like this thing, for example.”
Loid’s blue eyes met hers, calm and sincere. “So thank you, Yor. For your presence in my—” He pauses and corrects himself softly, “—in our life.” Then he gives her one of his rare, gentle smiles that make Yor’s heart flutter.
Yor feels her face grow warm. “I—... I feel the same. It… it’s an honor for me to be part of your family…”
“Our family, Yor,” he corrects her again.
She gasps softly at the emphasis on “our” and nods. “...Our family.”
Yor looks at Anya’s card again, then glances at her hands.
She can still see the bloodstains that marred her skin.
Her fist clenches, trying to shake off the image.
Taking a deep breath, she looks up at the purple sky above, the familiar feeling of longing heavy in her chest. A longing to be seen for who she truly is—darkness and all.
“Honestly, sometimes I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you and Anya. I can’t believe people as good as you would accept someone like me.”
She clenches and unclenches her fists, careful not to crumple the card. She murmurs, “I’m not exactly clean…”
Loid might understand. But…
“Hey, what’s happened in the past is in the past.” He pauses. “I’m not exactly clean either,” he says under his breath, his voice tinged with a melancholy that makes his eyes cloud with distant thoughts.
Yor’s hand twitches, eager to offer him comfort.
Loid gently continues, “I stayed true to what I said back then. I am amazed by you—by how you endure gruesome work so that others can feel safe. Anya has told me that many times. And now… I know too.”
Yor feels her eyes well up and blinks quickly to hold back the tears.
Taking a shaky breath, she whispers, “To be honest, it feels like I’ve been with you, Anya, and Bond, for far longer than a year. But at the same time, it feels like it’s gone by so fast. I’ve… I’ve never felt so fulfilled in my life before.” She meets his gaze and says with determination, “I’m really glad I married you, Loid.”
His eyes widened a factor before smiling. “Same here.” Then, he looks at the basket and groans. “Ah… I really should’ve planned a much better date. I shouldn’t have listened to Anya. Did you know she was so adamant that you’d prefer a simple picnic over a fancy dinner?”
Yor chuckles. “Well, Anya is right.”
Loid blinks. “She is?”
Her smile widened. “To be honest, the environment of a date is secondary to… to…”
Suddenly, her confidence falters under his curious gaze. She gulps nervously, her voice soft as she adds, “To… your company.”
Why is my heart beating so fast right now?
Loid blinks and then he grins. “Is that so?”
She nods stiffly.
He sighs in relief. “Well, I enjoy your company too.”
They share a soft smile, their eyes meeting for a moment before quickly looking away, both blushing.
Clearing his throat, Loid says, “Still, I do think I should do something for dessert.”
Yor chuckles and looks around. She points to a small gelato stall at the edge of the park. “How about some gelato?”
“On such a chilly day?” He raises an eyebrow.
She smiles. “Why not?”
He grins. “Sure.”
They end up with cones of gelato, strolling leisurely around the park, chatting about everything and nothing.
And as they walk, Yor thinks to herself that maybe… maybe despite all the blood she has spilled, she really has done her part in keeping the world a beautiful place. Perhaps, at long last, the universe has finally given her a place of safety.
A place she determines to protect at all costs.
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Oh how I love to create disastrous dates for TwiYor: one, two, and this one XD Well, what can I do, these two dorks are too adorable ^^
day one of twiyor month!! the prompt was "wish" <3
☆*: .｡.o .｡.:*☆
Yor has never been one for academics.
Even before she lost her parents, she always found her mind wandering outside the classroom, outside her repetitive textbooks. It was all the same, anyways—x and y were forever unknown, spellings muddled and often irrational, letters floating above and dipping below the lines of her notebooks.
She just preferred to watch something more unique, distinctive. Like the flora lingering outside of her windows, as faint yet distracting as a rose. That was what really caught her eye, not the greyscale of her uneventful school life. So when she was left alone with Yuri, it didn’t take much persuasion for her to drop her studies completely. She never once considered it a loss, only a fate that arrived earlier than expected.
It comes as a bit of a shock to Yor when she wishes, for possibly the first time in her life, that she paid more attention in her school days. Specifically in her English lessons. Because now, she’s sitting at her desk at City Hall, fingers shaking as she holds a pen, cursing her rather lacking knowledge of synonyms.
“Come on, Yor,” she whispers. “You’ve used the word nice four times in one paragraph.”
With a start, her pen seemingly explodes, drops of ink splattering on a piece of parchment. Looking down, Yor sees the crushed barrel, the broken tip of the pen.
It takes everything in her to not rip apart the stupid paper—remember, Yor, this is for Loid.
Right. Loid. The person who unknowingly got her in this mess in the first place: her husband. Her respectful and considerate husband who’s nowhere near being her actual husband, but the details aren’t too important. All Yor really wants is to write him a letter, or even just a note, thanking him for everything he’s done.
It’s what he deserves, and that’s the only fact she believes with her whole body—blood and bones and all. Undoubtedly.
That’s why she’s spending so much time rewriting and replacing each failed attempt: it’s her rare chance to show Loid he’s not being taken for granted.
Patting down her hair, Yor opens her drawer to find a stack of paper, and she pulls out another one. Taking a second to calm herself, she grabs a nearby dictionary and begins to look, thumbing through each page, fingertips grazing the sides lightly. The words are tattooed onto her skin—lovely, kind, sweet. Thoughtful, gentle, caring. Amusing.
She could go on, writing an endless letter. Memorising the spellings of words that she’d never cared to notice before.
Yor keeps them tucked in a corner of her ribs, heart beating a steady rhythm of warmth. A wish silently bleeding into paper, ethereal as she signs her name.
☆*: .｡.o .｡.:*☆
i wish you bluebirds in the spring
to give your heart a song to sing
and then a kiss but more than this
I'm shaken by the new chapter because I made this yesterday, not today lol and 😭 I just want my pink haired gremlin baby happy because she deserves it!
So please Endo grant her wish and make her mama and her papa icha icha and buy her peanuts!!
(I'm sorry it looks rushed and messy, Im sick rn 🥲)
Days 3: "Smile" and 4: "Adoration" for Twiyor month @twiyorbase
This piece was one of my fav sketches ever. I made it for my dear Patty's Magazine she designed for @briefhottubcoffee past Christmas Exchange, (these two together just are chef's kiss). It's one of my favorites because Patty gave me my gift, a gorgeous holiday Twiyor fic called "Warm Blanket of Snow" (please read and give her the love she deserves https://archiveofourown.org/works/61633357) the initial sketch depicts a sweet scene in the fic, but as it was only greyscale I decided to revamp it a bit and give it a little twist with color and a starry night background.
In the end, the idea of them falling for the other, those sweet smiles and eyes that don't lie are there... I had to give that sketch and the fic justice.
