Xanthus paced the grand hall, the sharp click of his shoes echoing against the marble. In his arms, Love—still trapped in the form of a baby—clung to his shirt, their tiny hands gripping the fabric with an unrelenting tenacity. Their wide, curious eyes followed his every move, but Xanthus’s expression was anything but calm.
“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath. “Completely absurd.”
“You’re not backing out of the meeting, are you?” Dontis’s teasing voice rang out as he leaned lazily against a nearby pillar. He was dressed impeccably, as always, but the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement at Xanthus’s predicament.
“I can’t bring them with me,” Xanthus snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing. “And I don’t trust anyone else to—” He cut himself off, tightening his grip on the small bundle in his arms.
Dontis smirked. “Oh, come now, Xanthus. You wound me. You think I can’t handle a tiny, innocent child for a few hours?”
Xanthus shot him a sharp glare. “This isn’t just any child, Dontis. This is Love. My Love.”
Dontis held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I’m not going to let anything happen to them. Besides, I think it’ll be fun to see you squirm over leaving them behind.”
Love babbled softly, reaching up to grab a strand of Xanthus’s hair, their small fingers tugging insistently. Xanthus sighed, gently prying their hand away. “I don’t have time for your games, Dontis. I’ll hold you personally responsible if anything goes wrong.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Dontis replied smoothly, stepping forward to take the baby from Xanthus. Love protested at first, squirming in his grasp, but Dontis quickly settled them with an exaggerated grin and a playful bounce.
“See? They already like me,” Dontis said, a smug edge to his voice.
Xanthus frowned, crossing his arms. “If they start crying, call me. If they so much as sneeze, call me. If—”
Dontis rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’ll call you if the world ends. Now go. Isis won’t wait forever.”
Xanthus hesitated, his gaze flickering between Love and the door. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he turned to leave, his voice low and stern. “Don’t make me regret this.”
As the door closed behind him, Dontis glanced down at Love, who was now giggling at the shiny buttons on his coat. “Well, little one,” he said with a smirk, “let’s see how much trouble we can get into before your brooding protector comes back, shall we?”
Dontis adjusted the baby in his arms, looking down at Love with a bemused expression. “Alright, Love. Or should I call you Baby Love? Uncle Donny is on duty, and I promise not to mess this up… too badly.”
Love cooed, their tiny hands reaching up to pat Dontis’s face, leaving a trail of drool on his cheek. He chuckled. “Well, you’re not shy, I’ll give you that.”
Walking through Xanthus’s sprawling estate, Dontis carried Love to the lounge, where he had already laid out a soft blanket and a selection of toys he’d conjured up with a snap of his fingers. He set them down gently, and Love immediately latched onto a plush raven, shaking it with surprising determination.
“Good choice,” Dontis said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of them. “Symbolic, very on-brand for your dear Xanthus.”
Love babbled in response, their big eyes fixed on him as if expecting more entertainment. Dontis leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I could tell you stories about your partner that would make your tiny baby ears blush. But alas, you’d just forget them when you change back. Such a shame.”
Love squealed, waving the raven in the air. Dontis smiled, a soft warmth spreading in his chest. “Alright, alright. Let’s try something fun.”
He snapped his fingers, conjuring a small cloud of shimmering stardust that floated above Love’s head. They gawked at it, reaching up with tiny hands to grab the glowing flecks. Dontis manipulated the dust, forming it into shapes—a crescent moon, a tiny bird, and finally a miniature version of Xanthus’s face. Love clapped their hands excitedly, letting out a delighted giggle.
“You like that, huh?” Dontis said, his grin widening. “See? I told Xanthus I was good with kids.”
Just as he was basking in his self-congratulations, the faint scent of something unpleasant hit his nose. He froze, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Love was still giggling, their innocent expression doing little to ease his growing dread.
Love gurgled happily, and Dontis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you would. You’re a baby.”
A half-hour and a mildly traumatic diaper change later, Dontis was sprawled on the couch, holding a now-clean and sleepy Love against his chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmured, stroking their soft hair.
Love yawned, their tiny hand clutching a button on Dontis’s coat. For a moment, the room was quiet, the golden glow of the setting sun streaming through the windows. Dontis found himself smiling again, the rare kind of genuine smile that came from something other than charm or persuasion.
“You know,” he said softly, his voice more tender than he realized, “I get why he’s so protective of you. You’re… kind of incredible.”
As Love’s eyelids drooped and they drifted off to sleep, Dontis leaned his head back against the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh. Babysitting wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time, but he had to admit—taking care of Love had been surprisingly rewarding.
When Xanthus returned hours later, looking both exhausted and suspicious, he found Dontis sitting in the lounge, gently rocking a sleeping Love in his arms.
“They survived,” Dontis said with a smirk, keeping his voice low. “And, dare I say, they had fun.”
Xanthus raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to take Love from him. “No incidents?”
“None worth mentioning,” Dontis replied with a wink. “But I think I’ve earned the title of Uncle Donny.”
Xanthus sighed, cradling Love protectively. “Don’t get used to it.”
As Xanthus turned to leave, Dontis called out, “Oh, by the way, you owe me. Big time.”
Xanthus didn’t respond, but Dontis swore he caught the faintest hint of a smirk as he disappeared down the hall.
P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.
If you look at the injuries those bandits have, it looks like a sword went through their mouths (two on the left) and the right one had his throat was cut.
Looks like Casca pulled a Guts here:
