#loveatfirstsight

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

˚˖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?

This is a pipa in case you don't know

Earth was lively that morning, sunlight gleaming off Capsule Corp’s domes, laughter echoing from the garden where Trunks and Goten were sparring again. Bulma shouted something from the kitchen about breaking her furniture, Vegeta barked threats from the gravity chamber, and amid all the noise, you sat quietly beneath the shade of a large tree, a book open in your lap.

The sound of the breeze through the leaves was softer than a whisper. It was the one place you could breathe, away from the chaos that came with being the eldest Briefs-Saiyan hybrid. You had always been calm where your family was not, patient where your father was furious, and kind where your mother was fiery.

You turned a page, and the sky trembled.

A ripple of energy swept across the atmosphere like thunder laced with divinity. It wasn’t ki. It was something colder and divine.

When the light descended, the entire planet seemed to hold its breath.

Inside Capsule Corp - Moments Later

Bulma was already yelling when the doors opened. “Whoever you are, this is private property! And if you’re here for another food sampling—”

“Shut up, woman,” Vegeta hissed, every muscle in his body tightening. His instincts screamed. He knew that energy.

Beerus floated through the air as if gravity was a mere suggestion, Whis just behind him, smiling with polite amusement.

“Lord Beerus, this is Earth,” Whis said lightly, “the planet with the marvelous food I mentioned.”

Beerus hummed, eyes wandering lazily, until they stopped.

Not on Vegeta. Not on Bulma.

On you.

You stood at the far end of the room, half hidden behind a pillar, clutching your book to your chest. You hadn’t meant to stare, but his presence was impossible to ignore: cat-like, lean, purple, and impossibly composed, radiating a strange kind of quiet destruction that made your heart thrum in both fear and fascination.

His golden eyes blinked once, then again, slower this time.

The corners of his lips curled.

“Whis,” he murmured, “remind me why you didn’t tell me this planet housed a goddess.”

Vegeta nearly choked. “What did he just call her?”

Bulma gasped. “Excuse me, she’s my daughter!”

Beerus tilted his head, completely unbothered by the outrage in the room. “Mm. Then I suppose I’ll have to thank you for her.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to crush a mountain.

Later - Private Garden, Capsule Corp

You hadn’t even realized how fast everything had happened. One moment your father was preparing to attack, the next, Whis had blinked him into a corner and Beerus was... simply talking to you.

He’d followed you outside, apparently done with everyone else.

“You’re different,” Beerus said simply, examining a delicate pink blossom between his claws. “Your energy… doesn’t irritate me.”

“I… thanks?” you offered softly.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that somehow didn’t sound cruel. “You should. It’s rare for me to meet mortals who can exist near me without trembling or posturing.”

You smiled faintly, eyes dropping to your lap. “I just don’t think fear helps anyone. And my family trembles enough for all of us.”

“Hm.” His gaze softened, only a fraction. “You’re calm. That’s dangerous.”

You blinked. “Dangerous?”

“Yes,” he said, stepping closer until you could feel the faint hum of his divine aura. “Because calm makes me forget what I’m supposed to destroy.”

Your breath hitched. He noticed.

He smiled. “You’re beautiful when you’re startled.”

Before you could answer, Vegeta’s voice roared from the distance: “GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU PURPLE MENACE!”

Beerus sighed audibly. “And there’s the migraine.”

Bulma stormed out behind Vegeta. “If you even think about touching her—”

“Oh, I don’t think,” Beerus interrupted calmly, “I decide.”

His tone was mild, yet the words carried such weight that even Vegeta froze mid-step. Whis appeared just behind Beerus, looking positively delighted.

“Well,” Whis chimed in, “this certainly took an unexpected romantic turn.”

Your cheeks flushed. Beerus smirked.

“I like this one,” he said, nodding toward you, “so I’m keeping her.”

The world stopped.

“Keeping-?!” Bulma shrieked.

Whis raised a brow. “Lord Beerus, perhaps a more... tactful phrasing?”

Beerus ignored him entirely. “She’ll be my companion. My wife.” His gaze flicked to Vegeta, eyes glinting. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to challenge a God of Destruction over family politics?”

Vegeta’s ki flared—and then, under Bulma’s death glare, fizzled out.

“Unbelievable,” Vegeta muttered, jaw clenched. “Unbelievable!”

Beerus turned back to you, and for the first time, you saw something sincere beneath the arrogance.

“I’ll protect your planet,” he said simply. “And I’ll protect you. That’s my promise.”

You hesitated. Then, softly, you nodded.

Somewhere deep inside, something told you this was not the end of Earth, but the beginning of something far greater.

...

Years Later - Beerus’ Planet

The temple was peaceful. You sat near the edge of the floating palace, legs folded neatly, playing your pipa. Each note shimmered through the air like light through water, wrapping the planet in calm.

Beerus lay nearby, tail lazily flicking, eyes half-closed.

“I destroyed three moons today,” he murmured, voice low, “and somehow, I still don’t feel at peace until you play.”

You smiled, not looking up. “I can play forever.”

He cracked one golden eye open. “Careful. I might hold you to that.”

The laughter that followed was soft, and for a god of destruction, oddly human.

Whis appeared beside you both, smiling knowingly. “Ah, harmony and chaos in balance. How poetic.”

And somewhere in the temple halls, a small child’s laughter echoed, their daughter’s ki flaring briefly like a tiny star, before fading into warmth.

The universe remained safe that day because its most dangerous god had found something even stronger than destruction.

---

The planet of the Destroyer God was quiet again, at least, for the first few seconds of the morning.

Then came the soft, rising hum of a familiar melody: your pipa, echoing across the floating gardens. The strings shimmered under your fingertips, their tone bright and calm, filling the vast emptiness with something Beerus didn’t have a word for.

Peace.

He lounged on the nearest stone pillar, eyes half-closed, tail lazily curling around his leg. Whis floated nearby, smiling in that infuriatingly knowing way of his.

“Your wife’s music has improved, my Lord,” Whis said, voice light and teasing. “One might say she’s achieved divine resonance.”

Beerus’s ear twitched. “She was already perfect. The music simply caught up.”

Whis chuckled. “Ah, I see. And here I thought you didn’t do sentimentality.”

Beerus cracked one golden eye open. “I don’t. I simply state facts.”

But his gaze softened when it found you, sitting on the edge of the platform, blue hair glowing under the morning light.

And then there was the other sound, soft giggles from the temple steps.

Your daughter, a small bundle of wild light blue fur (?, toddled toward him. Her eyes gleamed just like yours, but her face was unmistakably his.

“Papa!” she chirped.

Beerus sighed, long, theatrical. “I told you not to run on the stairs, little star.”

She climbed into his lap anyway, completely ignoring the “god of destruction” part of his title. Whis stifled a laugh as Beerus muttered something about mortals having no respect for authority.

“She’s learning from her mother,” Whis commented, smirking.

Beerus glared. “Watch it.”

You joined them moments later, carrying a tray of sweets you’d baked that morning, light, fluffy things that melted the instant they hit his tongue. The only reason Earth still existed, Whis often said, was because you’d learned how to bake.

“Breakfast for my two favorite beings,” you said softly, sitting beside them.

Beerus leaned back, pretending disinterest even as his tail brushed yours under the table. “Hmph. At least one of those beings appreciates your cooking properly.”

Your daughter’s cheeks were already covered in powdered sugar.

“Clearly,” you said with a giggle.

Whis poured tea for all of you, the moonlight reflecting off the golden cups. “It’s rather endearing,” he mused, “how a destroyer’s planet has become… domestic.”

Beerus scowled. “Watch your tone.”

“Oh, come now,” Whis teased, “if Vegeta could see you now, lounging in a robe, sipping tea, with your daughter using your tail as a pillow, he might actually faint.”

Beerus didn’t respond, but the faintest shade of pink brushed his ears.

Later That Day - Capsule Corp, Earth

“NO.”

“That’s not an option, Vegeta,” Bulma snapped, pointing her spatula like a sword. “You’re going. I want to see my daughter, and you’re coming with me.”

Vegeta crossed his arms, jaw tight. “You expect me to visit him?”

“He’s your son-in-law!” Bulma said. “And it’s been three years! Now get in the ship before I make Trunks drive us there.”

Vegeta grumbled the entire flight to Beerus’s world. Whis met them halfway through, teleporting them directly to the courtyard where you were serving tea.

“Mother! Father!” you greeted, joy bright in your tone. “It’s been so long-”

“MY BABY!” Bulma cried, crushing you into a hug before you could finish. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful, oh, I knew the god thing would look good on you!”

Vegeta only gave a curt nod, muttering, “Hmph. You look well, brat.”

Then his gaze slid to Beerus. The two locked eyes instantly.

“Still alive, I see,” Beerus said with an infuriating smirk.

Vegeta’s ki flickered. “Barely resisting the urge to fix that.”

Your daughter peeked out from behind your leg, tail flicking. “Grandpa?”

Vegeta froze. “She… called me.?”

You smiled. “She knows everyone by name. She’s smart like her grandma.”

Bulma was already sobbing. “Oh, she’s perfect! Look at that little tail!”

Beerus looked vaguely smug. “Of course she is. She’s ours.”

Vegeta scowled, but there was no fight left in him. Not when his granddaughter toddled over, reached up, and patted his cheek.

You’d never seen your father go so still. Then, slowly, Vegeta crouched down and let her climb onto his shoulder.

“...Hmph. Fine. She’s worthy of the Saiyan name.”

Beerus smirked. “She’s also part deity. So yes, I’d say she surpasses it.”

Bulma sighed dramatically. “You two are never going to stop competing, are you?”

Whis chuckled from behind them. “Oh, I rather hope not. It keeps the universe interesting.”

That Night

After everyone left, you and Beerus sat together on the edge of the floating temple, legs dangling into the starlight. The child slept peacefully inside, her tiny ki pulsing softly.

You leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. “You were good today.”

Beerus hummed. “What are you talking about? I’m always good.”

You laughed quietly. “You didn’t threaten to blow anything up.”

“Because you were there,” he murmured, turning his head slightly. “That’s enough to keep me busy.”

You tilted your face up toward him. “You’ve changed, you know.”

“Don’t spread rumors,” he said, though his voice softened. “A destroyer isn’t supposed to change.”

“Then maybe you’re something new,” you whispered. “A god who loves.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. The stars reflected in his golden eyes, and for a moment, he looked utterly human.

“Don’t tell Whis,” he said softly. “He’ll never let me live it down.”

You smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

From somewhere behind a pillar, Whis’s amused voice floated out: “Oh, I heard everything.”

Beerus groaned. “Whis!”

You laughed into his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around you, tail curling protectively around your waist.

The destroyer of worlds, the calm of creation, and their tiny spark of life, three heartbeats against an endless sky.

The universe was at peace again.

Masterpost

DBS Masterlist

Fm Saturday school teacher x Gideon Gemstone.

This takes place in between season one and two. I don’t wanna give away too much, but Gideon finds himself chaperoning the primary Saturday school field trip. And gets a lot more out of it than he thought he would!!

I might want to do a series idk

OK, I am very new to this so please be kind not the best at spelling or grammar, but I tried my best. I hope you guys enjoy this. It’s kind of long and a bit wordy. I promise I’ll get better but enjoy.!!

IMAGINES: THE WITCHER x READER - Geralt of the Land of Fools (on Wattpad)  

themes: from friends to lovers, hidden love, hurt-comfort

sneak peek: “Because I’m stuck in the past, where Anna is still that carefree young witch with cherry juice on her lips and messy curls.” Geralt gave a bitter smile, shaking his head. “Instead of moving forward, I keep looking back and asking myself, ‘What if I’d realized it all sooner?’”

He fell silent for a moment, staring into the darkness ahead as if hoping to find an answer there.