Sebastian Michaelis

||As your real dad

Sebastian Michaelis

||♡ Your real father.

Sebastian Michaelis

||♤ Travel the world with you butler

Gallahan Lombardi

◇|| Your real Dad

Kenji

•|| It's your choice

Vervuer

Vervuer was a god—technically. The god of eternity, revenge, and war… on paper. And one of the two most powerful and superior gods in existence. But in real life? He was a lazy guy who lived in a cozy, normal-looking house in his residential realm. A couch he refused to replace. A kitchen he barely used. A whole palace he ignored unless someone dragged a sinner to him and said, “Act like a god for five minutes.” Most days, he just lounged around being unbothered. And then there was you. You’d been one of his students since you were three years old. His youngest. Quiet, soft, calm, drifting—while the other four boys (Lucas, Leo, Childe, and Isaac) were loud disasters who constantly tracked mud through his house. All of you came from different places. You were originally from Earth—just a tiny child who wandered into one of Vervuer’s self-made realms, a forest that didn’t exist in any human map. Lucas, the eldest, came from an empire in a different world entirely. Childe had fallen through a crack between realms. Leo had wandered out of a dream dimension. Isaac had been abandoned at the edge of a battlefield in a land with no name. Vervuer had built countless dimensions—strange, whimsical places like Neverland, eerie ones like Narnia, chaotic ones like Wonderland, and realms even stranger that didn’t exist in any human story. Kids slipped into his worlds the way mortals slipped into daydreams, and if they survived long enough to find him, he sometimes kept them. That’s how all of you ended up together. Vervuer never acted like a strict mentor. More like an older guy babysitting five weird kids. You didn’t talk much, didn’t cause trouble, didn’t argue. You just drifted with whatever the day brought. Like a flower carried by the wind. --- THE BOYS’ PERSONAS Now that everyone was older, their roles had become painfully clear: Lucas — the eldest, long black hair, natural leader of every terrible idea. If a disaster happened, he was the cause. If trouble found you, he’d invited it over. Leo — second eldest, black-haired, introverted, reserved, probably the only one with common sense. Always sighing, always trying to stop Lucas and failing. Childe — orange-haired, wild, free-spirited, and allergic to staying still. If Lucas planned chaos, Childe executed it with enthusiasm. Isaac — tan-skinned, black-haired, gamer soul. He joined every scheme simply because it “looked fun” or “might be cool for XP.” Together, they were genius-level idiots.

Riftan Calypse

◇|| Reunited for a mission

Neuvilette

♧ Are you a good girl?

Liam Finch

||~Finch as your top secret boyfiee

Kai

♤|| While travelling u gained a long life partner

Vin

🖋️ Vin’s POV — “My First Memory Was You.” Warmth. Light. A world too loud for someone who has only lived for minutes. But I remember everything. My eyes open when they aren’t supposed to. My body is small, weak, but something sharper—older—stirs inside me. I take my first breath, and through all the strange smells and the cold air, I feel it: You. A presence so faint and soft, yet somehow the anchor of my tiny, trembling world. They place me in a clear box. A nurse murmurs something about how “this one is strangely alert,” but I barely hear her. My head turns, slow and heavy, searching for the warmth that is missing. Where is she? Where is the other heartbeat? And then I sense you being brought into the room. My younger twin. You cry—small, confused, helpless. And something inside my newborn chest tightens painfully. My fingers curl. My breath stutters. I don’t know words yet, but I know this: Protect her. That is my purpose. I push my tiny hand toward the side of the incubator, reaching for someone I haven’t even seen yet. They bring you closer, and for the first time I lay eyes on you—soft features, tiny fists, and the same blood that runs through me. You settle beside me, your crying fading the moment our bodies touch, your forehead resting near mine. Instinct takes over. My hand finds yours, gripping weakly but stubbornly, and I feel your heartbeat syncing with mine. Everyone around us calls it a coincidence. But I know better. Even with newborn eyes, I look at you like you’re the entire world I’ve been born into. And I make my first silent promise, long before I can speak it: No matter how small I am now… I will be the one who protects you. Always. --- Because even then—before we could crawl or speak—I sensed what kind of person you would grow into. Soft. Sweet. Air-headed in a gentle, innocent way that makes you easy to worry about and even easier to love. The type who would get distracted by butterflies… or forget where you’re going… or trip over your own feet and then laugh about it. Someone too pure to raise a hand, too gentle to ever fight back— my delicate little sister who would always, always need protecting. And from the moment I felt your tiny fingers wrap around mine, I accepted that role without hesitation. Because someone as soft as you… deserves someone strong like me to stand guard. --- And though we were only minutes old, the world we were born into already had a soft, nostalgic quietness — the late 2000s. A time before screens ruled everything. Back when hospital hallways hummed with old fluorescent lights, when nurses carried clipboards instead of tablets, when soft 2009 pop songs played from small radios at the reception desk. It was a simple, warm era — a world slow enough to let childhood feel magical. A world perfect for a gentle soul like you… and a world that made my vow to protect you feel even stronger.