#Sakuverse Xanthus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peppymintdreams · 19 days ago

Note

hello mother

Oh no!!! Listners has drunk some potion turning them into babbies how will sakuverse boys help their babby listeners???🤭

Hello my child, you asks and mother giveth.

Think of the children.

In a sudden twist of events your Sakuboys have now become parents.. but parent you?!

How’d they be if their listener became a baby

Luca

Luca stared down at the baby sitting on the floor in front of him, wide-eyed and giggling, wearing a tiny version of your favorite oversized shirt. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his glasses, wondering how in the world this had happened.

One moment, you had been sipping a mysterious potion you’d found labeled “For Curiosity’s Sake,” and the next poof you were a baby. A tiny, babbling, adorable baby.

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” Luca muttered, pacing the living room. “This can’t be happening. You were just...you!” He crouched in front of you, staring into your innocent, sparkling eyes. “Okay... okay, uh, don’t panic. You’re a baby. But...you’re still you, right?”

You blinked up at him, then reached out and grabbed his finger with your tiny hand, squeezing it tightly. Your only response was a giggle, completely unaware of the chaos that had consumed Luca’s mind.

He sighed, crouching down. “Alright. Step one: figure out how to fix this. Step two: keep you alive until step one works.”

You babbled something incomprehensible, and Luca’s heart melted instantly. “No,” he whispered. “You cannot be this cute. It’s unfair.”

He scooped you up gently, holding you close to his chest as you curled into him with a content sigh. “Okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured softly, his instincts already kicking in. “We’ll figure this out. First, let’s get you something to eat. Do babies drink tea?”

You blew a raspberry against his shoulder.

“Right. Probably not tea.” He smiled softly, walking to the kitchen, already thinking through baby food options. “We’ll try some apple sauce. Everyone likes apple sauce, right?”

As he settled you into a chair and began mashing the fruit, you watched him intently, babbling now and then as if offering advice.

“Maybe I should call someone,” he mused, glancing over at you. “Or maybe...you’ll just turn back on your own?”

You responded by smacking the table with your tiny hand.

“Right. Apple sauce first, answers later,” Luca said with a chuckle, handing you a small spoonful. “Here comes the airplane...”

You eagerly opened your mouth, happily accepting the food.

As he fed you, Luca couldn’t help but smile. Despite the panic, despite the uncertainty, there was something oddly comforting about this moment.

“You know,” he said softly, watching as you reached for his hand, “I might be completely lost right now, but... I think I can handle this.”

You giggled, and Luca pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out, baby or not. I love you no matter what size you are.”

Isaac

Isaac stared at the small bundle on the couch, his normally calm, composed demeanor utterly shattered. You well, a baby version of you were swaddled in one of his oversized sweaters, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, oblivious to the chaos you had just unleashed on his world.

“This… is a problem,” Isaac muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he paced the room. “How on earth does one accidentally drink a potion?”

You giggled, a soft, baby-like sound that made his heart squeeze. Isaac, ever the logical thinker, had dealt with clients, deadlines, and even the occasional confrontation. But this? Taking care of a suddenly regressed you? This was uncharted territory.

He leaned down, cautiously lifting you into his arms. You immediately grabbed a fistful of his tie, babbling incoherent sounds that, to him, sounded like the cutest little curses. “No, no, not the tie,” he whispered, gently prying your tiny fingers away. “That’s silk.”

Your eyes blinked up at him, big and sparkling with mischief just like they always did, only now from a much smaller face. Isaac’s resolve to remain composed faltered, a rare softness overtaking him. “You’re lucky you’re adorable,” he whispered, brushing a hand over your tiny head. “Or I’d be scolding you right now.”

You wriggled in his arms, reaching up to grab at his glasses, giggling as you managed to pull them slightly askew. Isaac sighed, adjusting them with one hand while holding you steady with the other. “Brilliant. I see the potion didn’t rob you of your mischief.”

Walking over to his desk, he grabbed his phone and hesitated. Should he call someone for help? Research the antidote himself? Or maybe just maybe enjoy this rare opportunity?

He sat down on the couch with you cradled in his lap. “Alright, little one,” he said softly, “until we figure out how to fix this, I suppose I’m on babysitting duty.”

You clapped your tiny hands in triumph, as if you understood you had won this round.

Isaac smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just don’t get used to this. Because once you’re back to normal, I will remind you of how you turned me into a glorified babysitter. I’d rather put a baby in you than you be the baby”

You responded by gurgling and nestling into his chest, fingers tangling in his shirt. Isaac sighed again, leaning back into the couch, his hand slowly rubbing your back.

“For now…” His voice softened, almost tender. “I suppose I’ll enjoy this. But don’t expect me to sing you a lullaby.”

You yawned, curling against him, and Isaac’s heart melted entirely. "Fine. Maybe just one."

Andrew

Andrew stood frozen in the doorway, his usual composed expression shattered by the sheer absurdity of what he was seeing. On the living room floor, surrounded by an overturned bottle of glowing potion and an assortment of half-finished tea mugs, sat Darling now a baby, giggling up at him like this was all a grand joke.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment longer than necessary. "Of course," he muttered, his voice low and tight with exasperation. "Of course, this is how my evening was meant to go."

Where moments ago stood Darling his sharp-witted, occasionally chaotic partner now sat a wide-eyed, babbling infant Darling tiny, chubby, and undeniably cute in an oversized sweater, their tiny hands gripping the fabric in confusion lifted their arms toward him in a wordless demand. Their wide eyes gleamed with the same mischievous glint they always had, as if to say, Come on, Andrew. You know you can’t resist me.

Andrew sighed deeply, crossing the room and crouching down. "You drank a random potion," he stated flatly, lifting them into his arms with practiced care. "Why am I even surprised?"

Darling responded with a cheerful babble, clapping their hands. Andrew couldn’t help but sigh was it possible for a baby to still look so smug?

Baby Darling their small hand immediately latching onto his collar, tugging it with surprising determination. Andrew arched an eyebrow. "Still as misbehaving Strong. And very stubborn, I see" he remarked, gently prying their fingers loose.

He settled them on his hip, gazing down at their rosy-cheeked, entirely-too-pleased-with-themselves face. "I’m not impressed," he added, though his tone had softened despite his best efforts. "You’ve successfully turned yourself into a baby, and now I’m stuck fixing it."

Darling only grinned wider, as if mocking his frustration. They reached up to pat his cheek, the motion innocent but somehow still carrying that familiar Darling-brand smugness.

Andrew stared at them, his brown eyes narrowing. "Don’t look at me like that," he said, brushing a stray curl from their forehead. "This is not cute. This is inconvenient."

Darling cooed in response, clearly unconvinced.

A long, weary sigh escaped him as he adjusted his hold, carrying them toward his study. "Right. Let’s find a solution before you get too comfortable like this." He set them down on his desk for a moment, flipping through a worn potion guide with one hand while keeping an eye on the tiny troublemaker now fascinated by his pen.

"Don’t touch that," Andrew warned, only to watch as Darling grabbed the pen anyway, giggling.

His lips pressed into a thin line, but there was no real anger behind it. Instead, he lifted them back into his arms, cradling them close. "Smug little thing," he murmured, almost fondly. "You’re lucky I care about you."

As they nuzzled into his shoulder, soft and warm and perfectly content, Andrew let out a reluctant chuckle. "Honestly, Darling… what am I going to do with you?"

Darling’s only reply was a sleepy coo, their tiny fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Andrew pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead, his frustration melting into quiet affection. "Let’s just hope this wears off," he whispered. "Because I can’t keep you like this… even if part of me might not mind."

Darling let out another contented coo, and Andrew chuckled under his breath. "Of all the things you’ve dragged me into… turning into a baby is certainly a new one." He pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. "Let’s hope it’s the last

Elias

Elias paced the living room of the safe house, staring down at the tiny version of Barista sitting in the middle of the couch. Correction his Barista, now a baby.

“How… How did this even happen?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The empty vial on the kitchen counter mocked him, labeled in faded handwriting: “Do Not Drink.”

Baby Barista blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, drooling slightly and clutching the hem of their oversized sweater that had swallowed their tiny form.

Elias crouched in front of them, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of panic and disbelief. “Okay… uh, don’t worry. I’ve got this. I think.”

Barista responded with a giggle and a babbled, “Ewiass!”

His heart melted despite the chaos. “Aww, no, don’t do that. Don’t be cute right now.” He carefully picked them up, their little hands immediately grabbing onto his shirt for balance.

“Alright, step one: Find a solution. Step two: Don’t let you accidentally break anything in the meantime.” He glanced around nervously. “Step three: Don’t panic.”

Barista squealed happily and tugged at his ear.

“Step four,” Elias sighed, “keep my ears intact.”

He carried them to the kitchen, plopping them gently on the counter in a nest of pillows for safety. “Let’s see… what reverses mysterious potions?” He grabbed his phone, searching for answers, but Baby Barista had other ideas.

They reached for the fruit bowl on the counter, managing to snag a banana.

“Hey! No, no, no ” Elias snatched the banana back gently. “You can’t survive on bananas alone. Although…” He paused, thinking. “I guess you could, but that’s beside the point.”

Barista pouted, their bottom lip quivering.

“Oh, no. No, no, no! Don’t do that.” Elias panicked, frantically peeling the banana and handing it back. “Here! See? Banana! Happy?”

The pout disappeared, replaced by a triumphant grin.

“Crisis averted,” he muttered, watching them munch on the banana.

Several phone calls, a panicked text to James, and a quick internet search later, Elias finally found a potential solution. “Alright, I think I’ve got it. We just need to wait for the effects to wear off in… eight hours.”

Baby Barista blinked up at him, banana in hand, clearly unbothered by the predicament.

Elias sighed, scooping them up again. “Looks like we’re in this for the long haul, huh?” He sat on the couch, cradling them in his lap. “Guess I’m babysitting today. But, you know… you’re kind of adorable like this.”

Barista gurgled happily, resting their head against his chest.

Elias smiled softly, brushing a stray curl from their face. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just… don’t expect me to change diapers, alright?”

Barista giggled, and for the first time all day, Elias relaxed.

“I’ve got you, baby Barista.”

Xanthus

Xanthus stared at the tiny version of Love sitting on the floor in a heap of oversized clothes, their round eyes blinking up at him with innocent curiosity. His usually composed face was a mix of shock and disbelief.

“...Love?” His voice was cautious, as if saying it aloud would change the reality before him. “Please tell me this is some kind of elaborate joke.”

The baby giggled, a soft, mischievous sound, and reached up to grab a lock of his long hair.

Xanthus narrowed his eyes. “No. Don’t even think about ”

Too late. Tiny fingers yanked, and for a creature who once stared down ancient hunters without flinching, Xanthus now found himself wincing from the surprisingly strong grip of a baby.

With a gentle but firm hand, he pried their fingers away. “You’ve been a baby for five minutes and already causing chaos. Of course.” He sighed, straightening and scanning the room for clues. His gaze landed on a small, empty vial on the table.

“Potion,” he muttered, inspecting it. “Brilliant. You drank a random potion. Why am I not surprised?”

The baby Love clapped their hands, clearly proud of themselves.

Xanthus gave them a flat look. “I hope you’re enjoying this.”

As if in response, they reached up again, this time grabbing the hem of his jacket, tugging insistently.

“Hungry, are we?” he guessed, lifting them carefully. The baby wriggled in his arms, giggling at how awkward he looked holding them. “Fine. Let’s see what we can do.”

Moments later, Xanthus returned with a baby bottle how he acquired one so quickly was a mystery only he knew and offered it to Love. They latched on eagerly, drinking with enthusiasm while staring up at him with their big, mischievous eyes.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” he muttered, watching them. “I’ve faced rival clans, ancient curses, and countless enemies, but nothing could have prepared me for you.”

Just as Love finished their bottle and Xanthus was starting to settle into this bizarre new role, a knock echoed through the room. The front door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

“Xanthus?” Dontis’ smooth, amused voice drifted in. “You’re not answering your ” He stopped mid-sentence, his sharp eyes landing on the baby in Xanthus’ arms. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well. I didn’t think you and Love would finally get busy and have a baby this soon.”

Xanthus shot him a withering glare. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I will,” Dontis chuckled, leaning casually against the doorway. “And here I thought you were all brooding and untouchable. Turns out, you’re just a softie with a baby.”

Love, sensing the tension or perhaps just wanting to cause trouble reached out and grabbed a fistful of Xanthus’ shirt, babbling something incoherent but very determined.

Dontis’ grin widened. “Oh, look at that. They’re already starting trouble. Just like their well, I guess your influence.”

Xanthus exhaled sharply, the edge of a growl in his tone. “It’s temporary. They drank a potion and turned into..this”

“Sure it is.” Dontis crossed his arms, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tell me, how are you handling diaper duty? Feeding time? Late-night crying fits?”

Xanthus gave him a deadpan stare. “I handled you for centuries. I think I can manage, and again this is the result of their clumsiness and it shouldn’t last long.”

The baby clapped their hands again, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. Then, with an innocent tilt of their head, they reached for Dontis, as if inviting him to join in the chaos.

“Oh no,” Xanthus said quickly, pulling Love closer. “You’re not going to him. One instigator is enough.”

Dontis raised an eyebrow. “Afraid they’ll prefer me?”

Xanthus’ eyes glinted with possessiveness. “I’m afraid they’ll learn all the wrong things from you.”

Love, as if to test this theory, gave Xanthus a playful slap on the cheek with their tiny hand.

Dontis laughed outright. “Oh, they’re perfect. A little troublemaker already.”

Xanthus sighed, rubbing his temple. “I should have known. Even as a baby, you’re determined to drive me insane.”

The baby giggled again, clearly pleased with themselves.

Dontis leaned in slightly, smirking. “You know, I think they just want attention. Maybe you should try singing them a lullaby.”

Xanthus shot him a dangerous look. “Leave. Now.”

With a mock bow, Dontis backed toward the door. “Enjoy parenthood, Xanthus. I’ll be sure to check in… often.”

As the door closed behind him, Xanthus exhaled, looking down at Love, who now rested peacefully in his arms, their tiny hand clutching his jacket.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from their face. “But I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Love, half-asleep, gave a soft coo, and for a moment, the chaos faded into quiet warmth. Even in this unexpected form, they were still Love. And Xanthus, for all his reluctance, was already planning how to keep them safe no matter how many instigators or mischievous smiles they threw his way.

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.

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peppymintdreams · 18 days ago

Note

its xanthus' birthday, he doesnt see a point in celebrating, but love does so anyways ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

A Day Worth Celebrating

Xanthus Claiborne x Love

Xanthus sat in his study, the faint glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the room. A book rested in his lap, though he hadn’t turned a page in quite some time. His thoughts drifted as they often did on this particular day—a day that had lost all meaning centuries ago.

Birthdays were for mortals, for fleeting lives measured in moments and milestones. For someone like him, whose existence stretched endlessly, they felt redundant, almost absurd. What was another year when centuries blurred into an indistinguishable haze?

The faint sound of footsteps broke through his musings. He glanced toward the door just as Love peeked their head in, a warm smile lighting up their face.

“Hey,” they said softly, stepping inside with their hands hidden behind their back. “What are you doing in here all by yourself?”

Xanthus raised an eyebrow. “Reading, or attempting to. Why?”

Love moved closer, their smile widening. “Because it’s your birthday. And no one should spend their birthday alone.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Love, we’ve talked about this. Birthdays are... irrelevant to me. I see no reason to celebrate something so trivial.”

Love’s expression softened, but they didn’t back down. Instead, they perched on the arm of his chair, leaning toward him. “Maybe you don’t see a reason, but I do. It’s a day that marks the beginning of you. And that’s worth celebrating.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound. “I’ve been around for so long that the beginning feels like a myth. Besides, what would you even celebrate? My survival? My stubbornness?”

“Your existence,” Love said simply. “The fact that you’re here, with me, in this moment. That’s worth everything.”

Xanthus looked at them, his crimson eyes softening. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Always,” they replied with a grin. “Now, are you going to humor me, or am I going to have to drag you out of this chair myself?”

Before he could respond, Love revealed what they’d been hiding behind their back—a small, elegantly wrapped box tied with a ribbon. They held it out to him, their eyes bright with anticipation.

“I thought you didn’t care for material gifts,” Xanthus teased, though he took the box from their hands with care.

“I don’t,” they said, “but this isn’t just a gift. It’s something I thought you might actually appreciate.”

Intrigued, he pulled the ribbon loose and lifted the lid. Inside was a leather-bound journal, its cover engraved with intricate patterns of roses and vines. His initials were embossed in the corner, and when he opened it, he found the first page filled with Love’s handwriting.

“For Xanthus, whose presence makes eternity bearable. May this be a place to hold your thoughts, your stories, and your memories.”

He traced the words with his fingertips, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he looked up at them. “This is... thoughtful. Far more than I deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” Love said firmly. “You deserve everything, Xanthus. And more.”

He set the journal down and stood, pulling them into a gentle embrace. “You have an uncanny way of making me feel human again, Love.”

They wrapped their arms around him, pressing their cheek against his chest. “That’s because you are, in so many ways. And you deserve to be celebrated, even if you don’t think so.”

He rested his chin on their head, holding them close as a rare warmth spread through him. For the first time in centuries, the weight of time felt lighter, the day brighter.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low but sincere. “For reminding me that some things are still worth marking, even after all this time.”

They pulled back just enough to look up at him, their smile radiant. “So, does that mean you’ll let me celebrate your birthday every year?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”

But as Love led him out of the study, chattering excitedly about the cake they’d made and the quiet celebration they had planned, Xanthus couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—birthdays weren’t so pointless after all.