Years went by so fast, you could barely remember how Rafayel—your bratty, dramatic fish-turned-famous artist—ended up so smitten with you. He was still childish, goofy, overly emotional, and full of life. But gods, you loved him. He was always loyal, devoted, and unapologetically silly—only for you.

Eventually, you both became parents to Molly—a tiny storm wrapped in glitter and attitude. She was Rafayel’s copy in every way: dramatic, sassy, and chaos incarnate. Every time you came home, it was the same scene—paint splatters on the walls, canvases flipped, glitter on the cat. The atelier, the hallway, even the kitchen weren’t safe. You’d scold them both while cleaning up their mess, but their laughter made it all worth it. They were your precious, unstoppable tornadoes.

Rafayel was the ultimate girl dad—clingy, jealous, protective—and Molly was no different. They’d argue over who got your attention first. But years passed, and Molly grew into her own. At 13, she was already popular and titled the “Greatest Artist” in school, much like her father. Spoiled? Absolutely. Bratty? Definitely. Loved? Beyond words.

Then came Sebastian—her boyfriend. Molly proudly brought him home one afternoon. “Mom, Daaad! Seb’s here!” she shouted. Sebastian, nervous in his nerdy glasses, sat awkwardly in your lavish living room while you offered him a warm smile… and Rafayel stared him down like a sea monster guarding treasure.

Molly hissed at him to behave. You glared at him, silently warning him not to scare the poor kid. Rafayel barely mumbled a cold “hello,” thunderclouds practically forming over his head. Minutes later, Molly dragged Sebastian upstairs, and you returned to the kitchen to prep dinner.

Rafayel followed, still sulking, dramatically helping you chop vegetables as he whined with misty eyes and a deep pout:

“How could you let that colorless, brainless mortal near our babyyy…”

You just laughed. Same old Rafayel—forever your drama king, forever your heart.