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•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)

lovestruck and looking out the window

PART ONE | part two

pairing: clark kent x fem reader 4.6k

summary: you see your friend clark without his glasses for the first time. he looks… oddly familiar

content: clark kent invents what it's like to be a gentleman time and time again. reader finds herself in trouble quite a bit lol. title from superman by tswift of course. divider from hyuneskkami ♡

Addy19 @Addison_Malii Anyone else in Arkham District hear the evacuation sirens turn on and off? Was that a test or should I be running for my life lol Mark 💸 @markusup ↳ replying to @Addison_Malii That’s what you get for living in “Arkham District” bro 💀💀💀 cait (old acc got hacked…) @batmanslawyer ↳ replying to @markusup don’t speak on arkham district with metropolis in ur bio lmfao. i hope ur insurance covers ur house the next time superman drops a building on ur ass Mari ♡ @mightycrabjoysluvr ↳ replying to @batmanslawyer superman haters can not be real. like damn do you guys hate joy happiness fun and rainbows too cait (old acc got hacked…) @batmanslawyer ↳ replying to @mightycrabjoysluvr are we forgetting the fact that he’s an ALIEN from KRYPTON? i don’t care how hot he is i will take batman over him any day Mari ♡ @mightycrabjoysluvr ↳ replying to @batmanslawyer a vigilante defender in my replies shitting on superman… i have really seen it all. bookmarking this tweet for when the police finally catch batmans ass btw

“—you want some?”

“Hm?”

Clark sinks into the couch next to you, his weight tipping you closer in his direction. The edge of the bowl in his hand prods your side.

“You really shouldn’t hold your phone so close to your face. You’re going to wreck your vision.”

Strange Reunion| Dark! Baelor x Single mother! Reader x Dark! Maekar

Summary: Maekar and Baelor were shocked to see their sister, the reader, who had disappeared a long time ago. She looked exactly the same as they remembered her, and was holding a child she claimed was her own. You, however, were utterly confused, as you were from the modern world and have no idea who these men were, and how you got here.

"Where are you taking her?"

Your voice raises as you lunge forward, fingers clawing at empty air. The maid, a stern-faced woman in grey linen, has already turned her back, your daughter bundled against her chest like a parcel.

The baby's wail rises thin and sharp above the noise of the tournament grounds, then fades as the woman disappears behind a canvas partition.

Your life has fallen apart twice.

The first time, you woke up in a hospital with nothing. No memory. No name that felt like yours. No explanation for why the doctors smiled and told you that you were pregnant.

They sent you to a women's shelter after that. A small room with thin walls and a door that didn't lock properly. You stayed there for months, staring at a ceiling stained with water damage, trying to remember a life that refused to come back. Eventually, you stopped trying.

You got a job. Saved what you could. Signed a lease on a tiny apartment that was cold in winter and hot in summer.

It wasn't much. But it was yours.

Then came the baby.

She was born on a quiet Tuesday, screaming and angry and perfect. The nurses cleaned her up and laid her on your chest, and you looked down and felt the ground shift beneath you.

White hair. Not blonde, but white, like fresh snow, soft as cobweb. And her eyes, when she finally opened them, were a pale, strange indigo that didn't belong to any family you could remember.

You asked the doctors if something was wrong. They ran tests. Checked charts. Talked in low voices outside your door. No albinism, they said. Probably a genetic mutation. Rare but harmless.

But in the end, you accepted the reasoning, because she wrapped her tiny fingers around your thumb and wouldn't let go, and honestly, that was all the answer you needed.

For a while, things were okay. Steady. Safe, even.

Then you woke up here.

Here makes no sense.

A tournament field stretching out under a sky that's too bright, too wide. The smell of horses and dirt and smoke. Flags snapping in the wind. The roar of a crowd somewhere you can't see.

You were lying in the grass with your daughter in your arms, and before you could even get to your feet, men in leather armor grabbed you by the elbows and dragged you through the camp like they'd been looking for you.

Now you're standing in a tent that costs more than everything you've ever owned. Red and black silk for walls. A carpet thick enough to sink into. A dragon stitched into every surface, coiled around a sword.

And two men blocking your way out.

They are older than you. Brothers, clearly, though the resemblance lives more in their bearing than their features, one has white hair and violet eyes while the other has heterochromic eyes, one dark eye and one violet eye.

The man with silver white hair looks like he is about to explode.

"You have some explaining to do." His voice is low, tight, barely controlled. "Right now."

You take a step back, His eyes, violet, burning, hold something you weren't expecting. Not just anger. Betrayal. The kind that has been waiting years for a target.

"Maekar." The taller brother's voice is calm, as he steps forward, and his hands settle on your shoulders, warm, and steadying.

You flinch, but he doesn't let go. "There is no need to frighten her."

"Frighten her?" Maekar's laugh is ugly, incredulous. He takes a step closer, and you can smell wine on his breath, leather, the sharp tang of someone who has been sweating beneath armor.

"She ran off, Baelor. Years ago. Vanished without a word, without a trace, and now she appears out of nothing in the middle of a tourney field with a child—" His gaze cuts to the partition where the maid disappeared, and something in his expression shifts, darkens, and becomes harder to read.

"—and looking exactly the same. Not a day older. Not a single day."

His voice breaks on the last word.

Baelor's fingers tighten on your shoulders. Forcing you to turn around and face him, he begins studying your face with an intensity, searching for something, recognition, guilt, an answer to a question he hasn't yet spoken aloud.

"Why are you shouting at me?" The words tear out of you before you can stop them, raw and ragged, fueled by the maternal terror of your daughter being carried away and the vertigo of standing in a place that cannot be real.

"I don't know you." You pull free of Baelor's hands and back up until you hit the tent wall. The silk is cold against your spine. "I don't know either of you. I don't know where I am. I don't know why I'm here. And you took my baby from me."

Maekar glares at you. After the anger drains out of his face slowly, like water through a crack, and what's left behind is worse. Confusion. Then doubt. Then something that looks a lot like fear.

Baelor's hands drop to his sides.

"She doesn't remember," he says softly.

Maekar's mouth twists.

"She's lying."

The words fall hard and flat between you.

Baelor does not look away from your face.

"No," he says quietly. "She isn’t."

Maekar scoffs. "You've always been soft with her."

"I know when she lies" Baelor's voice doesn’t rise, but something in it sharpens. "She looks to the left when she invents something. Her mouth tightens before she speaks. She cannot hold my gaze."

You realize, with horror, that you are holding his gaze now. Not because you mean to, but because you are too terrified to look away.

Maekar studies you again. Slowly. Carefully.

And then he smiles.

It is not a kind smile.

"Well," he says lightly, "if she has forgotten… we know how to remind her."

Your stomach drops.

Baelor's expression does not change, but something dark passes behind his eyes. Not surprise. Not disagreement.

Agreement.

"You were ours," Maekar continues, stepping closer. You press harder against the silk wall of the tent, but there is nowhere left to go. "Long before you vanished. Long before you decided to play at running away."

Your voice shakes. "I didn’t run from you. I don’t even know who you are."

"You are our sister," Baelor replies softly.

The word hits like a blow.

Sister?!

Your breath almost stops.

Maekar's hand comes down beside your head against the silk, trapping you between him and the wall. He doesn’t touch you, not yet, but the heat of him feels suffocating.

"You were promised to no one," he explains. "Given to no man. Because you belonged to us."

Baelor steps closer on your other side. Not crowding you quite as aggressively as Maekar, but close enough that you feel surrounded.

"In the training yard," Baelor murmurs, "you stood at my side. You rode with us. You fought with us. The court whispered that you were more dragon than lady."

"And in private," Maekar adds, voice dropping, thick with something possessive and unashamed, "you were ours in ways no one else was."

Your heart slams against your ribs.

"No," you deny it with pure disgust.

But they aren’t looking at you like men spinning a story.

They’re looking at you like men who have lost something precious, and finally found it again.

"You swore you would never leave." Maekar reminds you of something you don't remember.

"I. Don't. Know. You!" You repeat.

"You do." His voice cracks with fury. "You vanished. One night you were in your chambers. The next, gone. No horse taken. No guards bribed. No body found. You simply… ceased to exist."

Baelor's hand lifts slowly, hesitantly, as though approaching a frightened animal. His fingers brush a strand of your hair away from your face.

"You have not aged," he says quietly. "Not a day. We have as years have passed." His jaw tightens.

Your mind reels. None of this fits. None of it aligns with fluorescent hospital lights and social workers and a cramped apartment with peeling paint.

"I woke up in a hospital," you whisper desperately. "I didn’t know my own name. They told me I was pregnant. I've never been here. I have never seen you."

Silence follows after you finish.

Maekar's eyes shift at the word pregnant.

"The child," he says slowly.

A chill snakes down your spine.

"She has the blood of the dragon," Baelor says before you can speak. "Anyone with eyes can see it."

White hair.

Violet eyes.

Your daughter's face flashes in your mind, bundled in the maid’l"s arms.

"She is mine," you say, louder now, something fierce cutting through the fear. "Whatever you think, whatever story you've built in your heads, she is mine."

Maekar studies you for a long moment.

"Of course she is," he agrees. "And if she is yours…"

His gaze sharpens.

"Then she is ours as well."

"No."

Baelor's expression loosens, but it does not ease your fear. "You were never meant to be separate from us," he asserts.

"Not in rule. Not in blood. Not in loyalty."

"Not in love," Maekar finishes.

"You don’t own me," you say, though your voice trembles.

Maekar's smirk returns, "You always hated that word."

Baelor's hand drops, but he doesn’t step away. "We do not wish to frighten you," he assures you.

"If your mind has broken itself to survive whatever happened, we will mend it."

The certainty in his tone is more terrifying than Maekar’s anger.

"And if it does not return," Maekar adds calmly, "we will simply start again."

"Start… again?"

"With you," he says. "As we did before. Day by day. Until you remember where you belong."

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

"I belong with my daughter."

Baelor nods, smiling at you as he plays with his rings.

"Then you shall remain with her."

You feel relief but it quickly dies as he continues.

"Here."

#baelor x reader #baelor x reader x maekar #a knight of the seven kingdoms #akotsk #tw: toxic relationships #readerinsert #yandere #sister reader

⋆˚✿° Radiance Protocol ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

1(?)

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Yandere!Batfam x Neglected!Precure!reader

You walked along the sidewalk amidst laughter, stretching out the time as much as possible before the group disbanded. You accompanied your friends to the bus stop, listening to their plans for the weekend and promising to send them the class notes. When the bus left and you were left alone on the street, the warmth of the interaction faded quickly, replaced by the cold Gotham air.

They began the walk back to the manor alone. They were in no hurry. You knew that even if you took two hours, no one would be waiting at the door to ask where you had been.

As you walked, you mentally reviewed your week. Bruce hadn't attended the awards ceremony at school, even though you had reminded him three times; Dick had called you "champ" twice in a row because, evidently, he had forgotten your name was Reader; and Tim hadn't even left his office in three days.

You could have been angry, but you weren't.

You remembered your mother. You remembered how she always said that happiness isn't something that happens to you, but something you decide. She was your example that, in a city that tries to sink you, the best resistance is maintaining a genuine smile. That’s why, when Dick greeted you with a generic nickname, you gave him a bright smile and asked how he was doing. It wasn’t a fake mask; it was your decision not to let their lack of attention dictate your mood.

If they wanted to believe you were a simple, happy person who didn't notice anything, all the better for you.

Passing near an alley, you saw a couple of figures jumping between buildings. They were fast, professional. You recognized Jason’s fighting style in the way one of them took down an assailant a couple of streets away. He always said he kept you away because you were "weak," but the reality was that you knew exactly who they all were. You knew the bruises weren't from domestic accidents and that the late nights weren't for partying.

You had simply decided it was easier to let them ignore you. If they thought you were someone distracted, you wouldn't have to give explanations when you "accidentally" moved Bruce's investigation files—the ones that seemed to be taking too much of his time—or when Damian found his equipment sabotaged after being especially rude to you.

You continued your way, turning down a steep street that descended toward the city center. Just as you were halfway down the slope, a sharp scream made you react. A woman, startled by something strange, let go of a strange object that crashed directly into a baby stroller parked nearby.

The stroller began to roll downhill, quickly gaining speed due to the incline.

You didn't think twice. You tossed your backpack onto the sidewalk next to a stunned bystander. "Hold this," you said, already running.

You jumped into the street after the stroller. The wind whipped your face as you forced your legs to go faster. At a middle distance, you spotted something strange. It looked like a toy, a small stuffed animal-shaped creature, desperately floating in front of the stroller, pushing against the chassis with all its might to slow it down. The effort was futile, but the creature didn't give up.

You didn't lose your momentum from the surprise. The stroller was heading directly toward a girl crossing the street on a bicycle; the young woman had frozen upon seeing the danger approach.

A few meters from impact, you managed to reach the stroller. You lunged forward, grabbing the handle with both hands. To stop, you had to dig your heels into the asphalt. You felt the heat burning the soles of your feet and the smell of burnt rubber filled the air as you counterbalanced with your entire body. The stroller stopped centimeters away from the bicycle.

You took a breath, panting slightly. Looking down, the small winged "plushie" was gone. It had vanished into thin air the moment you secured control.

The mother arrived running, pale and trembling, and hugged her baby before showering you with thanks. Your backpack was handed back to you. "It was nothing," you said, forcing your best smile even though your feet were stinging. "Let's just call it my cardio training for the day. It's a good thing I’m not one of those heroes who wear capes, or I would have tripped."

The woman let out a small, nervous laugh—exactly what you wanted. You said your goodbyes and resumed your walk toward the manor. Your smile was still there, but your mind was already wandering. You had seen that creature. It wasn't an adrenaline rush. It was there, trying to help.

As you continued toward the entrance of Wayne Manor, turning over what had just happened in your head, you didn't notice that a small creature was floating a few meters behind you. The fairy followed you in silence, hidden among the shadows, watching your every step.

You entered the mansion with the usual echo of the foyer greeting you. You hadn't even finished crossing the threshold when Alfred appeared, as if he knew the exact second you set foot inside. His eyes dropped for a moment to your shoes, noticing the unusual wear on the soles, but he asked no questions in front of the others.

"Welcome home, Young Reader. Dinner will be ready in an hour," he said in a tone that only you could interpret as an "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'm starving," you replied with your usual smile.

At that moment, Duke rushed down the stairs, adjusting his watch and checking his phone with a frown. Seeing you, he stopped for just a second, just enough time not to collide with you.

"Hey..." Duke began, searching for the word in his mind. "Sorry, I'm swamped with something Bruce asked me for. We'll talk... later."

He gave you a quick look, one that said he truly intended to come back. You knew Duke was one of the few who made the effort; he would probably show up at your door before bed to try to reclaim those minutes of connection that the vigilante life stole from him.

"Don't worry about it, Duke! Good luck with that!" you shouted as he already disappeared down the hallway toward the Cave.

You walked up the stairs calmly, but as you turned the corner toward your room, you ran into the rigid figure of Damian. He stood with his arms crossed, partially blocking the way.

"You continue to waste your time outside these walls with insignificant people," Damian snapped without preamble, looking at you with a disdain that no longer affected you. "It is pathetic how you strive to fit into such a mediocre society. You are an embarrassment to the Wayne name, even if you technically do not carry it."

You held his gaze for a second, but not to challenge him—instead, you offered your kindest greeting.

"Hi, Damian! It's good to see you too. Have a nice afternoon."

You gave him a quick wave and walked past him without stopping, leaving him mid-sentence. You didn't bother looking back to see his expression of contained fury; you knew your positive indifference bothered him more than any insult you could hurl.

Entering your room, you closed the door and let out a long sigh. You tossed your backpack onto a chair and collapsed face down on the bed, finally feeling the fatigue in your legs. You closed your eyes, thinking about sleeping a bit before dinner, but the rest didn't even last five minutes.

A bluish flash filtered through your eyelids.

You frowned and sat up in bed. The glow wasn't coming from the window or any lamp. It was coming from your bookshelf. The shelves began to vibrate slightly, and a pulsing light started to emerge from behind the encyclopedias and the books you barely touched.

You got up and approached with curiosity. The light moved like a living thing, pointing to specific gaps between the spines of the books. Following the trail, you began to move the volumes, clearing them out of the way as the light grew more intense, almost blinding.

Removing the last book, you didn't find the wooden wall of the back of the furniture. Instead, the space expanded. The light sucked you forward, and from one second to the next, the ground beneath your feet disappeared.

You stumbled and fell, but not onto the carpet of your room. Your hands touched something soft, like fresh grass, and the air that filled your lungs no longer smelled of the manor’s floor wax, but of wildflowers and something sweet, almost electric. Looking up, the ceiling of your room had been replaced by a sky of impossible colors.

You had arrived at a place you did not know.

Hiiiii! Coconut reporting in! ♪(´▽｀)

I have to admit that while I was writing this, I wanted to write two different parts and had no idea how to link them. So, I figured I’d start with the "magical hero" transformation first—I actually drew inspiration from two different seasons for this intro, though I’m still not 100% sold on it—and then I'll dive into the neglect side of the story.

Anyway, this is just a draft, so I might end up changing it later <( _ _ )> I’ll figure it out as I go

#batfam #batfamily #batfamilyfanfic #platonicyandere #readerinsert #yanderebatfam #yandere batfamily #precure #pretty cure #writing #drafts #batfam x neglected reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #pls help

𝜗𝜚 THE BEST FRIEND THEORY 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝒾𝓍

𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝒷𝒾𝓃 × 𝒻𝑒𝓂!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

౨ৎ ݁ ˖ 𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your best friend is unfairly gorgeous the kind of gorgeous that makes strangers turn twice luckily… he’s gay so it’s harmless when he pulls you into his lap during movie night harmless when he braids your hair while you rant about bad dates harmless when he kisses your temple before exams right?

౨ৎ ݁ ˖ 𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: college au, slow burn → intense burn, smut

౨ৎ ݁ ˖ 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝒾𝓷𝓰𝓼: friends to lovers, manipulation themes, emotional dependency, baby trapping, dirty talk, smut, mdni, multiple orgasms, morally gray, obsessive behavior, graduation, families, she has no idea, he has every idea, please read responsibly ♡

౨ৎ ˖ 𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ♡ hi loves. i had some problems updating tbft, so i really hope the chapter content wasn’t altered or deleted.... i’ve been trying to update it since yesterday and couldn’t, but now it finally seems to have worked!

this chapter isn’t exactly how i wanted it to be because i lost my notes for the future chapters of this fanfic -.- so i had to write it based on what i could remember lol. right now i’m finishing the last chapter so i can post everything for you soon! i’ll probably be posting the rest within 1 to 3 days, so get ready.

i also have new fanfics active on my profile, the soobin core era is still going strong <3 my asks are open, and if any request catches my attention, i might write it when i have time!

this chapter is the long one. the last semester. the pharmacy. the families. the final stretch before everything changes and neither of them fully knows it yet — well. one of them does. reblogs keep me breathing. i mean it every time ♡ tag list is open for this and all my other works. for now, that’s it

xoxo, v.

౨ৎ ˖ 𝔀𝒹𝓼: 14k.

౨ৎ ݁ ˖ 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ˖ ݁dress – taylor swift, shameless – camila cabello, sweater weather – the neighbourhood, killer queen – 5 seconds of summer, love talk – wayv, call it what you want – taylor swift, i wanna be yours – arctic monkeys, peaches & cream – kai, love on the brain – rihanna, do i wanna know? – arctic monkeys, until i found you – stephen sanchez

Sunny - Paige Bueckers x reader

➳ Stuck in a toxic relationship reader finally realizes what love should feel like when Paige shows her what it means to feel safe, seen, and cared for.

➳ Warnings: (emotional abuse), (gaslighting), (manipulation), (financial control), (toxic relationship), (anxiety), (trauma recovery), (non-graphic threatening behavior)

➳ Word count: 11.804k

➳ Navigation Post - here!

The first meeting was… awkward, to say the least. It was a week after the draft, no one was supposed to be in the training facilities but you. The job of the day was to get B-Roll footage of the place, stuff that can be used and recycled for social media, and show the facilities to the viewers without anybody there. So with a coffee in hand, and headphones on, you made your way through the building - starting in the offices then the medical and treatment rooms before getting to the court.

So you know princess and the frog can you do alastor meeting a y/n Lottie who was completely different then what he was expecting instead of being spoiled and rude she was spoiled but the sweetest person your ever meet and I feel like tiana would introduce alastor to Lottie since they were around the same time and I feel like lottie would fall first but alastor would fall harder from watching her and seeing how she's always there to help Tiana with her restaurant always happy to be there with her friend and her daddy (anyway thank you for listening and I really like your work)

Oh yes, please! I’m a total Disney girly — this was absolutely unavoidable. 🏰🦌✨

It took me a whole week to write 😭 Idk how many version I have...But this is the best.

I also wrote a poeam. What do you guys do to me ? I have never written something, only in school. I love it!

As the princess of his heart I Alastor x Reader I Princess and the Frog AU

Word Count: ~5.7k

Part 1 I Part 2

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🪷 ⋆˚࿔ 𐂂 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🪷 ⋆˚࿔ 𐂂

New Orleans, 1920s

Tiana had already told Alastor about her several times. “She is… special,” the hardworking restaurant owner had said with a warm smile. “Y/N — everyone calls her N/N — is the daughter of Big Daddy La Bouff. You know, the richest man in all of New Orleans.”

Alastor, the charismatic radio host with the velvety voice, had rolled his eyes internally. He knew the type — spoiled, rich princesses who thought the world revolved around them. Arrogant, superficial, probably unbearable.

“Tiana, chère, I don’t know if—” “She’s coming by this afternoon to help me,” Tiana interrupted him with a knowing grin. “Just stay for lunch. Please? I think you two will be… surprised.”

And so Alastor now sat at a small table in Tiana’s Palace, drinking coffee and waiting for the inevitable disappointment.

Then he heard her.

“TIANA!”

The door flew open, and a whirlwind in pink and white burst inside. The girl — no, the young woman — shone like the sun itself, as if someone had poured liquid gold and summer mornings into human form.

Her dress was unmistakably expensive, perfectly tailored, adorned with pearls and lace that sparkled in the light like captured stars. But it wasn’t the dress that stole Alastor’s breath.

It was her smile.

Real. Radiant.

Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, a few strands having come loose and framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered joy for life.

Alastor’s heart did something strange. It skipped a beat.

“N/N!” Tiana came out of the kitchen and opened her arms.

Y/N — N/N — ran to her friend and hugged her tightly, as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, even though it had probably only been days.

Alastor could hear her laughter — bright, melodic.

“I brought you the flowers you wanted! And Daddy says if you need — ANYTHING — I should just tell him!” She clapped her hands excitedly, and Alastor noticed the small dimples appearing in her cheeks.

“Oh, and I found a new recipe for beignets! Can we try it? Please, please, please?”

Tiana laughed. “N/N, you have to breathe.”

“Who can breathe when it’s about food?”

N/N spun around — and then she saw Alastor.

Their eyes met.

The world held its breath.

Alastor felt it — that electric moment when two gazes meet and something irreversible happens. Her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly in surprise.

“Oh!” Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh my goodness! You’re Alastor! The radio host!”

And then she ran to his table—

“I listen to your show EVERY night!”

She stopped so close in front of him that he could smell her perfume — roses and something sweet.

“The story last week about the street musician? I cried! I really cried! Daddy had to give me a handkerchief, and then another one, and then I just cried all over his jacket!”

Alastor stood up — automatically, his mother had taught him manners — and suddenly found himself far too close to her.

Close enough to see that her eyes weren’t just one color, but a thousand — with golden flecks dancing in the light. Close enough to count the freckles on her nose. Close enough to be completely, hopelessly lost.

“Miss… La Bouff, I presume?” His voice sounded rougher than intended.

“Oh please, call me N/N!” She beamed at him, and God, that smile should have been illegal.

“Tiana has told me so much about you! She says you have the best humor and the most interesting views! Would you stay for lunch? Please? I would LOVE to hear more about your work!”

No trace of condescension. No forced politeness. Just… pure, unfiltered enthusiasm.

And then she touched his arm.

Just lightly, just for a moment, her fingers barely more than a whisper against his suit.

But Alastor felt it like a lightning strike, like fire racing through his veins.

“I…” he blinked, tried to collect his thoughts, “yes, of course.”

“Wonderful!” N/N spun back to Tiana, and Alastor immediately missed her closeness, the warmth she radiated.

“Then let’s cook! What are we making today?”

“WE?” Tiana raised an eyebrow, but her smile was knowing.

“Nonsense! It’s fun!” N/N tied an apron around herself. “Besides, friends help each other.”

Alastor sat back down. His hands trembled slightly. His heart refused to return to a normal rhythm.

What the hell had just happened?

The observation begins

In the following hours, Alastor observed something that overturned all his prejudices — and changed his heart in a way he didn’t understand.

N/N — this rich, spoiled princess — stood in the kitchen and… worked. Really worked.

Her perfectly manicured hands cut vegetables — a bit clumsily, but with such concentration that the tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips.

Alastor watched, fascinated, as she bit her lower lip when she focused. How her eyes narrowed. How a small crease appeared between her eyebrows.

“No, no, sweetheart, like this,” Tiana gently corrected her cutting technique, taking N/N’s hands in hers. “Otherwise you’ll cut your finger.”

“Oh! Of course! Thank you, Tiana!” N/N beamed — completely without ego, without shame for not knowing something.

She laughed at herself, bright and free. “I’m hopeless in the kitchen, aren’t I?”

“Practice makes perfect,” Tiana smiled.

“Then I’ll practice every day! Until I can cook just as well as you!” N/N swore it with her hand raised, so serious, so determined, that Alastor had to smile.

She meant it. She meant everything seriously.

Then the first guests arrived.

Alastor watched as N/N immediately jumped up. “I’ll help serve!”

“N/N, you really don’t have to—”

But she was already gone, balancing plates — a bit wobbly, her tongue again between her lips in concentration — toward an elderly couple.

Alastor watched every movement.

How she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. How her hands held the plates — carefully, as if they were precious.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Tiana’s Palace!” Her smile was radiant, real.

She spoke to the woman as if she were an old friend. No artificial politeness. Just genuine, warm interest.

Alastor felt something tighten in his chest.

Something dangerous. Something wonderful.

He watched as N/N went from table to table. How she remembered names. How she asked about children and grandchildren. How she laughed at jokes — really laughed, threw her head back, placed her hand on her heart.

“That’s Miss La Bouff?” one guest asked in disbelief. “Big Daddy’s daughter?” “She’s helping here? Voluntarily?” “She’s so… nice. Really nice.”

Alastor had to agree with his instincts.

She was real.

In a world full of masks and lies and people pretending to be someone they weren’t — she was real.

And that… That was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A Father’s Love

In the late afternoon, Big Daddy La Bouff himself stopped by — a large, imposing man in an expensive suit who nonetheless radiated a warmth that filled the entire room.

“N/N, baby! There you are!” His voice boomed through the restaurant.

“Daddy!”

Alastor watched as N/N’s entire face transformed. How she glowed, brighter than the sun. How she ran to her father and threw herself into his arms like a little girl.

Big Daddy caught her, spun her around, laughing deep and warm.

And Alastor’s heart…

It ached for that love. For that connection. For someone who would look at him the way Big Daddy looked at his daughter — as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Alastor noticed the flour stains on N/N’s dress — a dress that probably cost more than he earned in a month. The sweat on her forehead. Her messy hair.

And how Big Daddy didn’t seem to care at all.

He saw only his daughter.

Happy. Laughing. Alive.

“Working hard again, sweetheart?” He kissed her forehead, brushed a strand of hair from her face with such tenderness.

“I’m helping Tiana! Isn’t it wonderful? We have twenty more guests today than last week!”

“That’s my girl.” Big Daddy looked at Tiana, his smile warm. “Tiana, my dear, if you need anything—”

“I know, Big Daddy, thank you,” Tiana smiled.

Big Daddy noticed Alastor.

His eyes narrowed — not hostile, but assessing. Weighing.

“And who is this young man?”

“Oh! Daddy, this is Alastor! The radio host!”

N/N beamed, and her hand — her hand found Alastor’s arm, touched it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Alastor’s skin burned beneath her touch.

“Alastor…” Big Daddy studied him from head to toe.

Alastor felt seen through. Analyzed. Measured.

“I listen to your show. Good work, young man.”

He extended his hand.

Alastor shook it — impressed by the firmness of the grip, but also by the warmth in the man’s eyes.

“N/N, sweetheart, don’t you want to come home? You look tired.”

“Oh nonsense! I’m full of energy!”

But then she yawned — small, sweet, her hand flying to her mouth.

Big Daddy laughed, deep and loving.

“Come on, my little whirlwind. Let Tiana rest.”

“But—”

“N/N,” Tiana stepped up to her, hugged her tightly. “You were incredible today. Thank you. For everything.”

“That goes without saying!” N/N beamed, then turned to Alastor.

And her gaze met his with an intensity that stole his breath.

“It was SO wonderful meeting you, Alastor.”

His name on her lips — like a caress, like music.

“Will you come back soon? Please?”

Her eyes were hopeful, anxious, expectant.

As if his answer mattered. As if she cared.

“I… think so,” he said, his voice rougher than intended.

“Wonderful!”

And then she smiled at him — radiant, happy — and Alastor felt his heart explode in his chest.

With one last wave, she spun away, her Daddy at her side.

Alastor stood there, staring at the door long after she had gone.

“She’s something special, isn’t she?” Tiana’s voice was soft, knowing.

“She is…” Alastor searched for words, found none that were enough. “…not what I expected.”

“She’s better.” Tiana smiled, stepping beside him.

“N/N has a heart of gold. Her Daddy gave her everything — money, education, everything — but he also taught her that true beauty comes from within. That kindness matters more than wealth.”

Alastor couldn’t speak.

His heart was too full.

The Invitation That Changed Everything

It was Thursday evening. The restaurant was closed, the last guests had gone.

But Alastor, Tiana, and N/N were still sitting together at a table, eating leftover beignets.

N/N sat across from Alastor — so close that their knees almost touched.

Every time she moved, every time her leg brushed his — just for a second — Alastor felt electricity race through his veins.

“Alastor,” N/N nervously turned her glass, her fingers tapping against it — a nervous tick Alastor had learned to recognize.

She always did it when she was unsure.

“I… I wanted to ask you something.”

His heart leapt.

“Yes?” His voice sounded calmer than he felt.

“There’s a garden party at our house next week.”

She bit her lower lip — that damn gesture that drove him crazy every time.

“Daddy is inviting half the city — music, food, dancing, the whole… society.”

She said “society” with a faint undertone of disdain that made Alastor take notice.

“And I…” She looked up at him, and her eyes were full of hope and fear at the same time. “Would you… come as my guest?”

The world seemed to stop.

Alastor heard his own heart pounding in his ears.

“Not as Daddy’s guest or as part of society,” she continued, her words coming faster, desperate. “As my guest. My personal guest. I would be very happy if you came. If you spent time with me.”

Tiana coughed not-so-subtly into her fist and stood up.

They were alone.

Alastor stared at N/N.

Her face was flushed, her hands trembling slightly around the glass.

“N/N,” his voice was gentle, careful, “do you know what people will say? If they see you with me? A man like me—”

“A man like you?” Her voice suddenly became firmer, more passionate.

She leaned forward.

“You mean a talented, intelligent, kind man? A man who tells the most beautiful stories and makes people cry and laugh? A man who comes here every day, not because he has to, but because he wants to? A man who talks to Mrs. Henderson about her grandson even though he really doesn’t have time? A man who—”

“—of mixed heritage,” he interrupted quietly. “In a society that doesn’t… accept that.”

“Does. Not. Matter.”

Each word emphasized.

She stood up and stepped toward him.

Stood in front of him, and he had to look up at her — and in that moment, she was majestic.

“Alastor, I don’t care what people say. I have never cared what society thinks.”

Her hand — trembling — rested against his cheek.

Alastor stopped breathing.

“Daddy taught me that a person’s character is what matters. Not their money. Not their skin color. Not where they come from or who their parents were.”

Her thumb brushed over his cheekbone.

“And your character, Alastor… is beautiful. You are beautiful. Inside and out.”

“N/N…” his voice broke.

“Please come.” Her eyes shone.

“For me. I want you there. I want to dance with you. I want…” She faltered, blushed deeper. “I want to spend time with you. Is that… is that too much to ask?”

How could he say no?

“Yes.”

The word came out like a breath, barely audible.

“I’ll come.”

Her smile could have lit up the entire city.

And then she threw herself into his arms.

Alastor caught her and for a moment, he held her.

Felt how perfectly she fit into his arms. How her head fit exactly beneath his chin. How her heart beat against his — fast, wild, in the same desperate rhythm.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining.

“I should go,” she said breathlessly. “Daddy’s waiting. But I’m looking forward to next week.”

“So am I,” Alastor said honestly.

She left the restaurant, and Alastor simply sat there, his heart racing, his hands trembling.

Tiana came back from the kitchen, grinning broadly.

“Well?”

“I’m an idiot,” Alastor muttered.

“A lovestruck idiot,” Tiana corrected.

And Alastor couldn’t disagree.

The Garden Party — The Moment That Changed Everything

The La Bouff estate was… there were no words.

Hundreds of guests in elegant dresses and tailored suits. A jazz band played on a raised stage—the music drifting through the warm night air. Tables overflowing with food, champagne in crystal glasses. Lanterns hung from the trees like captured stars, casting golden light over everything.

Alastor felt out of place.

His suit was good—the best he owned, the one he had specially cleaned for this evening.

“Isn’t that the radio host? The… mixed one?”

“What is he doing here?”

“Did N/N really invite him? Big Daddy should step in.”

Alastor felt his jaw tighten. He should leave. This was a mistake. He didn’t belong here. He—

Then he saw her.

And the entire world ceased to exist.

N/N stood on the veranda of the estate, surrounded by people, yet completely alone in his vision.

There were no words. No language ever created could describe her in that moment.

Her dress was like liquid gold, like captured sunlight. It clung to her curves, falling in soft waves to the floor. The neckline was tasteful, but it revealed enough of her neck, her shoulders, the curve of her chest that Alastor’s mouth went dry.

Her hair was pinned up—but a few loose strands had escaped, framing her face, and all Alastor could think was: I want to bury my hands in it. I want to kiss her until neither of us can breathe.

But it wasn’t the dress. Not the hair. Not the flawless, radiant beauty.

It was her face when her eyes found him.

The way it lit up. The way her entire being seemed to change. The way she glowed—just for him—as if he were the only thing that existed among hundreds of people.

“Alastor!”

She came down the steps. Her dress swirled around her legs. Her heels clicked against the stone.

“You came!” She reached him and, without hesitation, took his hands. Both of them. Held them tight. “Oh, I’m so happy! I was afraid you might change your mind, but you’re here!”

“I promised,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Yes.” Her smile was radiant, genuine, reaching her eyes. “You did. And you keep your promises.”

“Always.”

“Alastor,” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice meant only for him, “people are staring—”

“Let them stare.” He said it loudly enough for a few nearby people to hear. “I’m here with you. Why shouldn’t they stare?”

N/N’s eyes filled with tears. She laughed—bright, free. “Come. I want to show you the garden.”

She slipped her arm through his and led him away from the crowd. Deeper into the garden, where there were fewer lanterns, where they could be alone.

She showed him everything. The roses. The pond with the goldfish. The pavilion overgrown with jasmine, its scent filling the air.

Alastor’s heart skipped a beat.

She sat down on a bench beneath the pavilion. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, painting patterns across her face, her dress, making her look like something out of a fairy tale.

She was the most beautiful woman Alastor had ever seen.

“This is where I first met Tiana,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on the pond. “We were both five. She came with her mama, who cooked for us. And I was so lonely. Every child who played with me did it only because Daddy was rich. Because of the toys I had. Because of the sweets I could share.”

She smiled—wistful.

“But Tiana… she looked at me and said, ‘Do you want to play tag with me?’ Not ‘Miss La Bouff’ or ‘can we use your dolls.’ Just—do you want to play.” A tear slid down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight. “She became my best friend. My sister.”

“She’s a good friend,” Alastor said gently, sitting beside her.

“The best.” N/N looked at him, her eyes shining. “And she likes you, you know? She says you have a good heart.”

“Different,” he laughed bitterly. “That’s a nice way of saying—”

“Wonderful.” She interrupted him, her hand finding his, weaving her fingers through his. “Different in a wonderful way. Alastor, why do you think so poorly of yourself?”

The question caught him off guard.

“I…” He searched for words, found none that fit. “I’m not good, N/N. I’ve done things—”

“Everyone has done things.” She turned toward him, her knees touching his, her hand gripping his tighter. “Everyone has made mistakes. Regretted decisions.”

Her free hand lifted, touched his face.

“But you are more than enough. You are wonderful, Alastor.” Her voice broke. “You are kind. You tell stories that touch hearts. You see me…” Tears now flowed freely down her cheeks, “You see me. Not my money. Not my name. Just me. N/N.”

“How could I not?” Alastor whispered, turning his face into her palm, pressing a gentle kiss there. Her skin was soft, warm. “You are everything real in a world full of lies.”

“Alastor…” His name, like a prayer.

She moved closer—so close he could feel her breath on his lips, sweet and warm.

“You are something special,” Alastor whispered, his hands framing her face, wiping away her tears. “You are the best thing I have ever seen. You are sunlight in human form.”

“Then kiss me,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips. “Please, Alastor. Here. Now. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Here? Where everyone can see us?”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Each word emphasized, passionate, desperate. “Kiss me, Alastor. Show me that I’m not the only one who feels this. Show me that you—”

He kissed her.

Pulled her to him—not gently, not carefully, but desperately, hungrily, as if she were air and he were drowning.

She tasted of champagne and sugar and something sweet, something undefinable—something that was only her. Her lips were soft, warm, perfect against his.

N/N moaned—a small, surprised sound that went straight into Alastor’s soul—and opened her mouth beneath his.

Alastor’s hands slid from her face to her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. He could feel her heart against his—wild, fast, beating in the same desperate rhythm.

When they finally pulled apart—both breathless—Alastor rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” N/N whispered. “I know it’s too soon, I know I should wait, but I can’t lie. I love you, Alastor. With all my heart.”

“N/N… I…” He took a deep breath, his hands trembling as they held her face.

He kissed her forehead.

“I love you, N/N. So much. So damn much it sometimes hurts to look at you. You are my first thought in the morning and my last before I sleep. You are in every story I tell. In every song I hear. You are—” He laughed, disbelieving, blissfully happy. “You are everything.”

“Then never stop,” she whispered, kissing him again. “Never stop loving me.”

“Never,” he promised against her lips. “Until my last breath. And beyond that. Forever, N/N. I love you forever.”

They kissed again—deeper, more passionate.

The Radio Poem — The Night He Said Her Name

Two weeks later, Alastor sat in his radio studio. His hands trembled as he arranged the notes in front of him. He had made a decision—one that would change everything.

“Thirty seconds, Alastor,” his technician called.

Alastor nodded, took a deep breath. His hands were slick with sweat. His heart a wild animal in his chest.

The red light came on.

“Good evening, my dear listeners.” His voice—professional, smooth, familiar. “This is Alastor speaking, and you’re listening to WDSU, the heart of New Orleans.”

At the La Bouff estate, N/N sat in her room with Tiana. They had spent the evening together. The radio was on—N/N never missed his show.

“Tonight,” Alastor continued, and his voice… changed. Became softer, more emotional, “I would like to share something personal with you.”

N/N froze, looking up at the radio. Her heart began to race.

“There are moments in life when you meet someone who changes everything.” His voice was rough, full of feeling. “Someone who shows you what it truly means to live. To love. To hope. For me… that someone is a young woman.”

“Oh my God,” N/N whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.

“She is the daughter of the richest man in New Orleans, yet she spends her days helping her best friend at the restaurant. She wears dresses that cost more than my monthly salary, yet she kneels in the dirt to help a crying child.”

Tears began to stream down N/N’s cheeks.

“She could have any man in this city—anyone. Any rich, handsome, perfect man. But she…” his voice broke, “she chose me.”

“Alastor…” N/N sobbed softly.

“A radio host of mixed heritage. With a dark past. With an uncertain future. But she saw past all of that. She saw my heart. And she loved it anyway. No—not anyway. She loved it.”

Tiana placed a hand on N/N’s shoulder, tears shining in her own eyes.

His voice dropped to a whisper—intimate, as if he were speaking only to her.

“So tonight I want to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. N/N—and I know you’re listening—this is for you.”

He cleared his throat, and his voice became poetry:

N/N, my light in the darkness, you came into my life like dawn after the storm. With a smile that drives away shadows, and a heart that does not fear even my scars. For a long time, I believed I did not deserve love. But you truly saw me— behind masks, fear, and guilt. And you found something I myself believed I had lost. You stand up for me without hesitation, without shame, while I still often hide behind my microphone. But today I borrow your courage and say out loud what my heart has long known: I love you, N/N La Bouff. You are my home, my peace, my today and tomorrow. Not because you are perfect— but because you are real. I love your small gestures, your laughter, your warmth, the way you make the world brighter without even realizing it. And if you want me— with all my flaws and my past— then meet me tonight at Tiana’s restaurant. Because I have a question. The most important of my life. Come to me. And let me show you how a man kneels when he gives away his entire heart— forever.

Silence in the studio. Alastor’s hands trembled violently. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure it could be heard through the microphone.

“N/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you. With every part of me. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day. Come to me. Please. I’m waiting for you where it all began.”

At the La Bouff estate, N/N jumped to her feet, tears pouring endlessly down her face. She sobbed.

“Go!” Tiana cried, laughing and crying at the same time. “Go to him! Hurry!”

“But I—I’m—I look terrible—”

“You look beautiful!” Tiana shoved her toward the door. “Go! He’s waiting!”

N/N ran. Her feet carried her through the garden, across the streets of New Orleans. Her hair came loose from its style, falling over her shoulders. Her simple house dress fluttered behind her.

People turned, stared.

But she didn’t care.

She had to get to him.

Now. Immediately. Her heart wouldn’t survive waiting.

The Proposal – Where It All Began

Alastor stood in front of Tiana’s Palace. The restaurant was closed.

His hands were slick with sweat. His heart a wild, desperate thing in his chest.

What if she didn’t come? What if he had risked too much? What if—

“ALASTOR!”

He turned around.

N/N was running down the street, her hair flying wildly behind her, tears glistening on her cheeks in the light of the streetlamps. She was the most beautiful, chaotic, wonderful sight he had ever seen.

She threw herself into his arms with such force that they nearly fell over. He caught her, spun her around, held her so tightly he was afraid he might break her—but he couldn’t let go.

“You idiot!” she sobbed against his chest, her fists pounding playfully against him. “You wonderful, romantic, impossible, perfect idiot! How could you say that on the radio? The entire city was listening! I cried! I’m still crying!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard!” She looked up at him, her face wet with tears but glowing—so glowing. “The poem—Alastor, the poem was—I can’t—I have no words!”

“Then you don’t need any,” he whispered, wiping away her tears. “Say it to me again. To my face. Without a microphone. Just you and me.”

Alastor lifted his hands, framed her face, gently wiped away her tears—but new ones came.

“I love you, N/N La Bouff,” his voice was steady, clear, without doubt. “I love you so much that sometimes I forget to breathe. You are my everything. My morning. My reason. My—”

“Yes,” she interrupted him.

He blinked. “I haven’t even asked yet—”

“Yes!” She laughed through her tears, happy. “Whatever you’re about to ask, the answer is yes! Today, tomorrow, forever—YES!”

“N/N…” He laughed, disbelieving, overjoyed. “Let me at least do it properly.”

And he sank down onto one knee. Right there, on the sidewalk in front of Tiana’s Palace. Where it had all begun.

N/N’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God—”

“N/N La Bouff,” he began, pulling a small box from his jacket pocket. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold it. “I’m not rich. I can’t offer you a life of luxury like your Daddy can. I have an uncertain future.”

He opened the box, revealing a simple silver ring with a small but perfectly cut diamond.

“But I can give you my heart. My soul. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every story I tell—it will be about you. Every moment of my life.”

His voice broke, tears burning in his own eyes now.

“I can promise to love you every day. To fight for you. To hold you when you cry and laugh with you when you’re happy. To hold your hand when we’re old and gray and still tell you stories. To wake up every morning and think: how did I get this lucky?”

Tears streamed endlessly down N/N’s face. She sobbed, laughed, trembled.

“Alastor…” his name was a sob, a caress, a prayer.

“N/N La Bouff, my light, my muse, my love, my everything—will you be my wife?” His voice broke completely. “Will you walk through this crazy, wonderful world with me, hand in hand, heart to heart, soul to soul? Will you let me love you every day of my life?”

“Yes!” She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands clutching his, the ring forgotten between them. “Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes! Forever yes!”

His hands shook violently. But he slid it on—perfectly, when he placed it on her finger.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she whispered back. “So much.”

And then they kissed—both on their knees on the sidewalk, beneath the star-filled sky of New Orleans, in front of the restaurant.

The kiss was long, deep, desperate. Full of promises and future. Full of a love so strong it overwhelmed them both. They both cried, both laughed, held onto each other as if the world would end if they let go.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, they heard something.

Applause. Cheers. Whistles.

They looked up. The street was full of people—neighbors, passersby. All clapping, cheering, crying.

And there, in the doorway of Tiana’s Palace, stood Tiana and Big Daddy La Bouff—both crying, both glowing.

“That’s my daughter!” Big Daddy shouted, his voice thick with emotion but full of pride. “That’s my little N/N! And her future husband!”

N/N laughed, burying her face against Alastor’s shoulder.

“Come,” he whispered, helping her to her feet, “let’s go to them.”

Hand in hand, they walked toward Tiana and Big Daddy.

“Daddy,” N/N hugged her father tightly, sobbing into his chest, “he proposed to me.”

“I know, baby. I was listening.” Big Daddy kissed her forehead, held her close.

He looked at Alastor, reached out—not for a handshake, but to pull him into an embrace.

“Welcome to the family, my son,” Big Daddy whispered, his voice choked. “You’ve made my daughter happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen her. Take care of her.”

“With my life,” Alastor promised, his own voice breaking.

“I knew it,” Tiana said, grinning as she wiped away her tears. “I knew from the very first day that you two were meant for each other.”

“Thank you,” N/N said, hugging her best friend tightly. “Thank you for introducing us. Thank you for everything. Without you, we would never—”

“Nonsense,” Tiana smiled. “You two would have found each other anyway. Some love is fate.”

Later That Night – Just the Two of Them

Hours later, Alastor and N/N sat alone on the steps of Tiana’s Palace. Big Daddy and Tiana had gone home, the crowd had dispersed.

“I still can’t believe it,” N/N whispered, studying the ring on her finger. It sparkled in the moonlight. “We’re getting married.”

“Already regretting it?” Alastor teased, kissing her cheek.

“Never.” She turned toward him. “Alastor, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you for the first time. Here. At that table. You were drinking coffee and looked so lonely. And I thought: I want to make him smile.”

“Me too,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Well, maybe not in the very first moment. But when I watched you helping everyone, the way you laughed, the way you simply… were. The way you spoke to everyone as if they mattered. The way you sang while cooking—terribly off-key, by the way—”

“Hey!” She punched him playfully.

“—but so full of joy that my heart hurt. That’s when I knew.”

“You fell harder than I did,” she observed, smiling knowingly.

“So much harder, chère.” He pulled her close, his head resting against hers. “You fell into me like a summer rain—fast, sudden, wonderful. But I… I fell into you the way the Mississippi flows into the Gulf of Mexico. Slowly, a little more each day, unstoppable, eternal.”

“That was very poetic,” she murmured.

“I’m a radio host. Words are my craft.”

“And stealing my heart?”

“That,” he kissed her, soft and tender, “was a happy accident.”

She cuddled closer, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her. They fit together like two puzzle pieces—perfect, as if they had been made for each other.

“Alastor?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me a story. Our story. How it continues.”

He smiled, his voice slipping into the familiar, velvety rhythm of his radio show.

“Once upon a time, there was a radio host and his wonderful fiancée…”

“They were married in a small garden, surrounded by friends and family. Tiana was the maid of honor, glowing and crying at the same time. Big Daddy walked his daughter down the aisle with tears in his eyes and a pride in his chest so big it nearly burst.”

N/N sighed happily, snuggling closer.

“And when the priest said, ‘You may kiss the bride,’ the radio host kissed his wife as if it were the first and last time. As if she were air and he were drowning. As if she were everything.”

“And then?” N/N whispered, her eyes growing heavy.

“And then they lived in a small house—not as big as the La Bouff estate, but big enough for two. Later for three, when a child came. A little girl with her eyes and his smile. Then another one. Then maybe another.”

“Three children?” she laughed softly.

“At least. Maybe four.” He grinned. “All with your good heart.”

“And then?”

“And then he loved her a little more every day. Every day he found new reasons to fall in love with her. The way she scrunched her nose when folding laundry. The way she spoke to their children—with the same kindness she showed everyone. The way she grew older, lines forming around her eyes, gray in her hair, but still herself. Still laughing. Still loving.”

His voice grew softer, more emotional.

“And if one day—in many, many years—one of them went, then the other would know: We had something real. Something that endured time. Something not even death could take away. Because true love never dies.”

N/N cried—quietly.

“That’s a beautiful story,” she murmured, her eyes closing.

“It’s our story, chère. And I can’t wait to live it with you. Every day. Every moment.”

She fell asleep in his arms, right there on the steps, beneath the stars.

And Alastor? Alastor held her, kissed her hair, and thanked the universe for the day Tiana had asked him to stay. For the day a whirlwind in pink had burst into his life.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🪷 ⋆˚࿔ 𐂂 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🪷 ⋆˚࿔ 𐂂

Part 1 I Part 2

Autor's Note:

How are we feeling after this?

Princess and the frog wasn't my fav Disney movie. It is so sad they don't draw anymore!!

Would you like some other Disney AU story's ?

I would love to explore my fav Movies!

More Alastor?

Overview Page! 🎙️

CHAIN | YANDERE!DENJI x READER | CHAINSAW MAN

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. Content Warning: YANDERE | Violence

A/N: Unironically I think Denji is just a yandere for toast.