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The moment the egg cracked open, you expected something simple. A creature, perhaps a loyal companion to aid you in your travels, something small, manageable. But as the smooth shell split apart, the air shimmered with a strange energy, and a shadow emerged from within.
A man.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly beautiful, he stretched as though shaking off centuries of sleep. Golden hair framed his face in wild, tousled strands, catching the light like threads of molten metal. His striking eyes, a combination of cyan and magenta, locked onto yours, vivid and sharp, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.
“Well, well.” His voice was smooth, indulgent, laced with quiet amusement. “Aren’t you lucky?”
Before you could even process what was happening, he moved. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into an embrace. His warmth pressed against you, a sharp contrast to the cool air of the room.
“I’m Aventurine~” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And it looks like I’m yours.”
You knew what this was. You’d read about it before. Baby duck syndrome. The first thing a newborn creature sees, it imprints upon, forms an unbreakable bond.
You tried to step back. His arms didn’t budge.
“Aventurine” you said carefully, your voice wavering, “maybe we should-”
He chuckled, cutting you off. “There’s no need to be so stiff, treasure. You don’t have to worry.” His hand lifted, brushing strands of hair from your face. The touch was gentle. “I’ll take care of you.”
You swallowed. “That’s… not necessary.”
His smile widened. “Oh, but it is.”
“No need to be afraid” he murmured, tilting his head. “I already know everything about you.”
“What?”
His fingers trailed down your arm, slow and deliberate. “I was inside that egg for three days, listening. Watching. Learning. Every little thing about you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent. “And now… I finally get to touch you.”
“That’s not—”
His thumb brushed over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his throat.
“Excited?” He chuckled. “I can’t blame you. After all… you summoned me.”
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.
You had put in the currency.
You had pulled the lever.
You had brought him into existence.
In his eyes, that meant one thing. You belonged to him.
Panic rose in your throat, but before you could say anything else, Aventurine cupped your face between his hands, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“I’ll be good to you” he promised, his voice velvet-soft. “I’ll be everything you need. Everything you want.” His fingers pressed a little harder, just enough to make your heart hammer in warning. “And in return… you’ll be mine.”
Aventurine’s stomach growled. It was the first break in the tension since his… dramatic arrival.
His intense stare melted for a brief moment into something almost normal as he placed a hand over his stomach and huffed, looking mildly embarrassed.
You took the opportunity. If he’s hungry, then I have a reason to step away.
“I’ll cook something” you blurted out, turning toward the small kitchenette. “Why don’t you take a bath in the meantime?”
Aventurine blinked, then smiled lazily. “Taking care of me already? How sweet.”
You ignored the implication, already moving toward the ingredients you had. Not much. Barely enough for a proper meal, but you could make do.
Aventurine stretched, then smirked. “Guess I’ll take you up on that offer. But don’t miss me too much, alright?”
Oh, I won’t.
As soon as you heard the water running, you bolted. Not out the door, no, that would be reckless, but to quickly gather anything that would help. New clothes. A weapon. Supplies. An excuse to have some space from him.
The weapon shop was your first stop. If you were going to survive with him, he needed gear, something that would let him fight in the dungeons, earn his keep.
The shopkeeper eyed you as you browsed. “Buying for someone?”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s… new.”
That wasn’t a lie.
“Well, let’s see what he can handle.”
Aventurine arrived just as the shopkeeper was about to suggest something basic. He had changed into the spare clothes you found earlier, but they fit him loosely, still damp from his shower. His golden hair was dripping, and damn him, he still looked effortlessly elegant.
He immediately came to your side, standing just a bit too close. “You’re picking out a weapon for me?” His voice was teasing, but there was a pleased edge to it.
“It’s practical” you muttered. “If you’re staying with me, you’ll need to fight.”
“Oh? You want me to protect you?”
“That’s… not what I said.”
The shopkeeper, blissfully unaware of the tension, gestured toward a set of swords and daggers. “Here, try these.”
Aventurine barely spared them a glance. Instead, his fingers brushed over a dark-bladed dagger with intricate carvings. The moment he touched it, a faint shimmer of magic pulsed through the air.
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. “That’s—”
Aventurine flipped the dagger in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Defense magic, huh? That’s a useful trick.” He twirled the blade effortlessly before giving you a sidelong glance. “See? I can handle myself.”
You frowned. He’s skilled. More than you expected.
Still, you paid for the weapon. Better for him to have it and use it for dungeon runs than… whatever else he has in mind.
After stocking up, you both headed home, passing through the market district. That’s when Aventurine’s sharp gaze locked onto something.
A crowd.
A gambling crowd.
People were shouting excitedly, coins clinking as dice rolled.
His lips curled in amusement. “What’s this?”
You tensed. “A waste of time.”
His smirk widened. “Come on, treasure. A little gamble never hurt anyone.”
“It does when you lose all your money.”
“But what if I don’t lose?”
You exhaled sharply. “Aventurine—”
Too late. He was already striding forward.
You groaned, following reluctantly. This was a terrible idea.
The moment Aventurine placed a bet, something strange happened.
The dice always landed in his favor. Cards always turned in his favor.
People muttered, eyes narrowing. “Is he cheating?”
“Not a chance” the dealer said grimly. “I’ve been watching. He’s just… insanely lucky.”
Within minutes, Aventurine had doubled, then tripled his winnings. He turned to you, holding up a handful of winnings with a wicked grin. “See? I told you.”
You crossed your arms. “It’s dangerous to win too much.”
His eyes glowed with amusement. “Why? Afraid someone might get jealous?”
Yes. But that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was him. The way he enjoyed pushing limits.
You grabbed his wrist. “We’re leaving.”
Aventurine blinked, then smirked. “Oh? Possessive already?”
Still, he let you pull him away, even as the crowd buzzed behind you.
As you walked back home, Aventurine toyed with a golden coin between his fingers, glancing at you with unreadable intent.
“You know…” His voice was low, teasing. “Maybe I really am the luckiest man alive.”
You didn’t respond. But as he slipped his free hand into yours, holding it far too tightly, you realized something chilling: He wasn’t talking about the gambling.
You woke up to an empty room.
For a moment, panic gripped your chest. Had he left? Had he changed his mind?
But then, the glowing screen of your status interface caught your eye. Your points had skyrocketed. You blinked, staring at the numbers increasing in real-time. What the hell? The only explanation was him. He had gone out and soloed a dungeon. You exhaled, rubbing your temples.
With a sigh, you moved to the kitchen, deciding to cook breakfast while you had the chance. Whatever his reasons, he had at least earned a meal. You prepared an extra plate, leaving it on the table for him in case he returned while you were out.
You needed time to yourself.
After everything that had happened: the imprinting, the suffocating presence, the gambling spree,... You needed some space to breathe.
As you strolled through the bustling streets, you found your gaze lingering on pet owners. Dogs trotting beside their humans, birds perched on shoulders, even a few rare magical beasts following their companions. It was normal. Yet your egg had spawned a man.
Why?
Your fingers tightened around your bag. Was this normal? Was there something wrong with that machine?
By the time you returned home, you heard voices.
Aventurine’s smooth, teasing tone. And a woman’s sharp, irritated response.
He’s arguing with someone?
You stepped inside, eyes immediately locking onto the scene.
Aventurine stood near the entrance, arms crossed, expression smug. His golden hair caught the light, making him look deceptively relaxed. The woman in front of him looked less amused. She had striking violet eyes, dark robes, and an air of authority. A merchant? A guild member?
“You owe us” she hissed.
Aventurine tilted his head, all mock innocence. “Do I?”
The woman’s gaze flickered to you as you entered, lips pressing into a thin line.
“You!” she said flatly. “You’re his keeper, aren’t you?”
Before you could respond, Aventurine’s smile sharpened. “Now, now,” he murmured, stepping toward you. His hand landed firmly on your lower back, pulling you close. “There’s no need to drag my dear partner into this.”
The woman scoffed. “So you haven’t told them, huh?”
You looked between them. “Told me what?”
Aventurine sighed dramatically. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little misunderstanding.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “He cheated.”
You froze. “What?”
Aventurine chuckled. “That’s a strong accusation.”
The woman crossed her arms. “You won an unnatural amount of times. The casino wants their money back.”
You knew he was lucky. But was it really cheating?
You turned to Aventurine, watching the way his lips twitched in amusement.
“…Did you?”
He grinned. “Define cheating.”
The woman huffed. “Listen. Just return the winnings and we won’t cause trouble.”
You hadn’t touched a single coin from his gambling spree. You had no interest in dirty money, and you had told him as much.
You turned to Aventurine. “Just give it back.”
His grip on you tightened.
“I don’t think I will.”
The woman scoffed. “Typical.”
Aventurine sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, treasure. Why should I give up something I rightfully won?” His eyes glinted with amusement—and challenge. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust me?”
Before you could argue, the woman straightened. “Fine. If you won’t return it, then prove it wasn’t a fluke.”
Aventurine raised a brow. “Oh?”
She smirked. “A wager.”
His expression lit up with interest. “Now that,” he purred, “sounds fun.”
You barely resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall.
Aventurine’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “A wager, huh?”
The woman smirked, arms crossed. “That’s right. A proper gambling match. If you win, you keep the money. If you lose, you return every last coin.”
Aventurine thrived on risk, thrill, danger—this was just entertainment to him. But if the casino was challenging him, that meant they weren’t convinced his luck was natural.
You saw the way Aventurine was looking at you: expectant, testing. As if he was waiting to see if you would stop him.
“I accept.” Aventurine’s grin widened.
The woman exhaled sharply, clearly expecting this answer. “Fine. Tomorrow night. High-stakes table.”
You hated everything about this.
The woman gave you a sharp look before turning on her heel and leaving.
The moment the door shut, you rounded on Aventurine. “What the hell was that?!”
He chuckled. “Oh, treasure. Don’t look so upset.”
“You just agreed to gamble against a casino! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”
He hummed, stepping closer, hands sliding into his pockets. “Dangerous? Or exciting?”
You scowled. “Aventurine!”
He caught your wrist, gently but firmly. “You doubt me.”
You hesitated.
“I don’t—” You exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust them. They wouldn’t offer this bet unless they had a plan.”
Aventurine chuckled, tugging you closer. “And yet… you’re worried about me.”
His fingers brushed over your pulse. “How sweet.”
You swallowed. “Just be careful.”
Aventurine smirked, pleased. “Of course. After all…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone.”
The casino was packed.
Golden lights flickered overhead, the air thick with tension and anticipation. Aventurine looked completely at ease, dressed in sleek black, looking dangerously elegant. His golden hair fell in loose waves, eyes gleaming like polished gems under the chandeliers.
You felt out of place beside him, but Aventurine didn’t let you stray. His arm remained draped around your waist, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin.
“You’re nervous” he murmured, lips dangerously close to your ear.
You stiffened. “I don’t trust this.”
He chuckled. “Then trust me.”
Before you could respond, the dealer motioned for the game to begin.
High stakes. One match. Winner takes all.
Aventurine’s smile was sharp as a knife.
The cards were dealt. Dice rolled. Coins clinked.
Aventurine played with effortless confidence.
Every turn, every call, he moved like he already knew the outcome. As if fate itself bent to his will.
The other players grew tense. Whispers spread.
A final roll. A reveal.
Aventurine leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Well… looks like I win.”
Then the woman from before scowled. “This—this isn’t normal.”
Aventurine tilted his head. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”
The casino staff shifted, uncertain. They wanted to. But there was no evidence.
Aventurine turned to you with a pleased smile. “See, treasure? Nothing to worry about.”
You exhaled shakily.
But as you looked at the dealer—at the way his hands trembled, his expression grim, you felt a creeping sense of unease.
Because Aventurine hadn’t just won. He had shattered the game entirely. And for the first time… you wondered if his luck was something more than just chance.
The moment you both stepped into your old apartment, you knew, you couldn’t stay here anymore. Not after the casino incident. Not after the way people had started watching you both. The absurd amount of points and money Aventurine had earned made you both a target. And that was the last thing you needed.
You exhaled. “We’re moving.”
Aventurine raised a brow, lounging lazily on the couch. “Oh?”
You crossed your arms. “We have the money for a better place. It’s safer this way.”
He tilted his head, studying you. Then, slowly, a pleased smile curled on his lips.
“Protecting me, are you?”
You stiffened. “I—no. I’m protecting myself.”
Aventurine only chuckled, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Mmm. Whatever you say, treasure.”
With a new apartment secured, you had another thought.
Aventurine looked like a disaster.
Not in the way you wanted, he was still frustratingly beautiful. But his clothes were either borrowed, stolen, or just not fitting his presence.
So you dragged him to the mall.
Aventurine smirked as you sifted through outfits, your eyes sharp with concentration. “I never took you for the type to play dress-up.”
You rolled your eyes. “You stick out too much in your usual mess. If we’re moving to a nicer place, you should at least look the part.”
He hummed in amusement but let you work. And, of course, the moment he tried on anything remotely elegant—he drew attention. Women whispered. Staff fawned over him. A group of admirers even giggled near the fitting rooms, watching as he adjusted a sleek black suit.
Aventurine was dangerous in a tailored outfit—sharp lines, golden hair effortlessly styled, eyes glinting with mischief. He thrived under the attention.
You, however, had enough.
Leaving him to entertain his admirers, you slipped away to the nearest bar. You just needed one drink. One moment to breathe without him watching you so closely.
The bar was dimly lit, quiet despite the low hum of conversation. You ordered something strong, letting the burn distract you from the ever-present weight of Aventurine’s presence.
But, of course…
It didn’t last long.
A glass clinked onto the counter beside you.
“You wound me, treasure.”
You tensed.
Aventurine slid into the seat beside you, smirking. His new outfit fit him far too well, making him look even more untouchable.
“You ran off” he murmured, swirling the drink in his hand. “Were you jealous?”
You scoffed. “I just needed a break.”
He chuckled, taking a slow sip. “And yet, here you are—drinking alone.”
You didn’t reply.
Aventurine leaned in, voice dangerously soft. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”
You ignored the shiver down your spine and ordered another drink.
The world blurred.
You hadn’t meant to drink so much, but Aventurine kept pushing.
Another glass. Another toast. Another teasing smile. By the time you stumbled out of the bar, the streets swayed beneath your feet.
Aventurine, of course, was perfectly fine.
He caught you easily, holding you upright with effortless strength.
“Tsk, tsk,” he hummed, lips brushing against your ear. “Look at you. Completely at my mercy.”
You hated how warm he felt.
Aventurine sighed, lifting you into his arms without effort.
“I guess I’ll have to take care of you, won’t I?”
You barely registered the journey back.
Soft sheets. A familiar scent. The feeling of being lowered onto the bed. Aventurine’s fingers brushed your forehead, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.
“…You shouldn’t be so reckless, treasure.”
Your vision blurred. “M’fine…”
He chuckled, low and dark. “No. You’re really not.”
You were slipping—consciousness fading.
But just before sleep took you, you felt it.
A hand on your cheek. Aventurine’s voice, barely a whisper.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I swear fictional characters has made my expectations so high that I think I might die alone, because tf am I gonna do when someone asks me what my type is? Oh my bad, I'm into pixels and animated drawings. Hbu?🥰
summary: the price she pays for being the adoptive daughter of the outstanding dr. ratio wherein love and support are out of the question.
pairing: dr. ratio. . . hsr (the reader is included)
was it requested? nope
genre: angst, adoptive father x adoptive child trope, lack of love from a parent, burdened by academic pressure, visible favoritism, ooc dr ratio?
note: this bond is strictly platonic in the story and also the reader here is around her teenage years, let's say 16. this is purely based on fiction, nothing in this fic is really based on the character behind the story. i might also plan to make it a small series as a continuation of this story. wahahaha, this is the first time I'm writing a story after a year so it's to be expected that the quality is not the same as before and some parts might not make some sense.
masterlist
In Dr. Ratio's assigned classes, only one qualified student has caught his interest among the other idiotic students he has to deal with daily. Witnessing another genius who stands on the same level as him is a rare opportunity for him to finally engage with someone who understands his complex theories and ideas.
This student's intelligence and passion for the subject matter reignite Dr. Ratio's own enthusiasm for teaching and push him to delve even deeper into the material during their discussions.
The subject itself is significant enough to warrant attention. Many students were initially intimidated by Dr. Ratio's high expectations as they strived to work harder in order to pass his challenging classes. However, envy brewed within some students as they witnessed the special connection he formed with this particular student, leading them to see them as a threat to their own academic success.
It is uncommon to hear Dr. Ratio lavish this student with such praise, but it is an absolute privilege to behold. The student is very lucky to have Dr. Ratio's mentorship and support, as it is clear that he sees great potential in them.
Unfortunately, it is not the student whom Dr. Ratio has adopted and formed a private father-daughter relationship with. The student who always received average grades and rarely stood out in the class is not favored by her adoptive father due to her lack of academic achievement.
Her name is [Y/N] [L/N], and though she is legally adopted, her adoptive father preferred not to share his surname with her, as he only wanted to be associated with excellence.
A found family? No, this was a mistake. [Y/N]'s relationship with Dr. Ratio is more transactional than familial, based on abiding by unrealistic expectations rather than genuine care and connection.
Burdening such weight upon her shoulders has led [Y/N] to constantly strive for perfection to gain her adoptive father's approval, creating a sense of pressure and inadequacy in her academic pursuits.
There were many uncomfortable moments where she tried to persuade Dr. Ratio to see her as more than just a student, but these attempts were often met with dismissal and disinterest.
One day, when she received an almost perfect score on a test she had worked hard to achieve, especially when the subject was not her strong suit, she finally felt a glimmer of hope that maybe she could prove herself worthy in Dr. Ratio's eyes.
At their shared home, she eagerly showed him the test, hoping for praise and validation. "Father, look! I did really well on my test!" she exclaimed, holding her breath in anticipation of his reaction.
Veritas Ratio merely looked at the test paper and scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why are you so proud of this mediocre performance? You still have a long way to go before I will be impressed," he remarked coldly, crushing her hopes with his harsh words. She felt a sinking feeling in her chest, realizing that no matter how hard she tried, it may never be enough for her father's approval.
"Why can't you be like one of the top students? They always excel in everything they do," he added, his disappointment palpable in his tone.
He shook his head and walked past his daughter without a second glance, leaving her feeling dejected and unappreciated. The girl clenched her fists in frustration, attempting to battle off the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
Upon her firm grip, the paper in her hands crumpled, almost accidentally creating a small hole where her father's words had pierced through her confidence.
This is not fair to her.
Aren't fathers supposed to be proud of their children's efforts and support them unconditionally? Then again, this is Dr. Ratio she is referring to; it's nearly impossible to earn his approval if she's within average.
She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply as her shoulders nearly fell in defeat. In Dr. Ratio's eyes, becoming the ideal student is the only way to repay him for all of his sacrifices to ensure her a comfortable life.
Her having a place to call home and food on the table every day is a great privilege that she was granted because of him. He gave her a second chance to excel in life to secure a future for her to proudly walk on. However, as a teenager in need of unwavering love and support from a figurehead, she wanted her father to be proud of her, or maybe love her the way she is.
Tears were already forming in her eyes when she opened them. She quickly entered her bedroom while trying to stop the tears from falling, but her quivering lips betrayed her attempt at composure.
The cries only increased when she entered her room, following her door lock immediately. She sat on her bed and grabbed the nearest pillow she could find, burying her face in it to muffle the sobs that wracked her body. "What should I do?" Her voice was shaking as she whispered to herself, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of her emotions.
One thing that differentiates her from her adoptive father is how she easily adapts to her own emotions. To her perspective, it's considered her strength, but to him, it's considered a weakness.
Another thing that the both of them can't relate to one another besides excellence and personal preferences.
[Y/N] removed the pillow from her face, revealing a visible damp trail of tears on the fabric. Her cheeks hurting from the force of her sobs, she took a deep breath and tried to steady herself.
She was beginning to zone out, her mind wandering to a place of solitude where she could process her emotions without judgment.
"I just want him to be proud of me," she whispered, her gaze undeniably sorrowful as she wiped off the last remnants of tears from her cheeks.
Many days had passed since the embarrassing event, and recalling the painful memory still brought a pang to her heart, but she cringed at the way she presented herself at that time.
She scoffed at herself. "I can't believe I let myself act like that," she muttered, feeling embarrassed and frustrated. "Father wouldn't even approve of my behavior if he saw me like that."
Once more, Dr. Ratio argued that expressing emotion was a sign of weakness, yet she couldn't help but feel exposed in that situation. This is yet another concern besides academic performance: struggling to maintain composure and control over her emotions in front of others.
She could not take the chance of listening to his tirades about self-control. Not when it means that she is being called "emotionally immature" for displaying even the smallest trace of vulnerability and that she is being compared to other students who managed their emotions better than she did.
In her father's sharp words, "Crying is meaningless and only shows that you are unable to handle your own emotions like a mature adult. Take an example from one of your classmates, who always remains composed and never lets their emotions get the best of them. Understand?"
It didn't take a guess who he was referring to; it was always the same student, the one who seemed to have it all together. A card that her father always uses whenever he wants to highlight her shortcomings and push her to be more like the "perfect" student.
She had no choice if she wished to gain his approval; she made a conscious effort to suppress her emotions and put on a facade of strength both in public and to her father, even when she felt overwhelmed inside.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a mild throbbing in her forehead. Gosh, even her physical pain is such a hassle. She massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the discomfort.
Dr. Ratio, however, was occupied conversing with his favorite student. It was the longest record to see him fully engage with someone other than himself.
They both exchanged their own theories or perspectives on the topic at hand, with Dr. Ratio showing genuine interest in his students's ideas and later giving praise for their insightful analysis.
It's a common occurrence between the two of them. After class, Dr. Ratio would sometimes invite the student to one of his discussions in his office, away from the idiotic students who always spoil the intellectual atmosphere.
No one could understand their conversations as much as they do, as they delved into complex topics with ease and understanding that surpassed the comprehension of others.
It irritates the gambler to no end.
Aventurine regarded the exchange with a hawk's eye. He is aware that the doctor has an adoptive daughter from behind the scenes, as he is trusted to keep it a secret from the public.
He isn't stupid enough, though, to ignore the neglect the doctor shows toward her. The doctor's indifference towards his adoptive daughter is evident in the way he rarely mentions her or includes her in any activities, causing Aventurine to question the doctor's responsibility as a legal guardian.
He planned to rile him up with the issue at hand privately today, but with the favored student present, he needed to get them out of the way first.
Before making another flamboyant approach to the doctor, the man quickly fixed his appearance. He opened the door widely and greeted the two individuals with a boyish grin, his arm resting on his waist in a casual yet confident manner.
"Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise to see both of you here. I was just about to discuss something important with the doctor if you don't mind stepping out for a moment." Despite his friendly smile, he spoke with his eyes narrowed toward the favored student.
With an awkward glance at the doctor, the student got up from the chair and excused themselves from the room while Aventurine kept staring at them with a sharp gaze.
With an irritated groan, Dr. Ratio returned his attention to the remaining visitor. He asked sharply, cocking his head suspiciously, "What brings you here, gambler?"
Aventurine chuckled and replied, "What? You should be used to my presence by now, Doctor. I always seem to find my way into interesting situations." He dragged a chair closer and leaned in, observing him with a dead stare.
"Such as?" Dr. Ratio questioned, crossing his leg and tapping his fingers on the armrest. He can already smell trouble from a mile away, and Adventurine was always at the center of it.
Aventurine smirked. "To see you constantly hanging out with the top student instead of your daughter is a bit odd, don't you think?" He straightened his posture and slowly walked towards the doctor, his intimidating purple eyes never leaving his. "Don't tell me that you're forgetting your responsibility as a parent, doctor," he added with a sly grin, his face slowly inching closer to Dr. Ratio's.
Dr. Ratio's expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes as Aventurine's words hung in the air. He is aware that Aventurine is jabbing him where his conscience lies, questioning his priorities and loyalty to his own child.
"Foolish question," Dr. Ratio finally replied, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I assure you, Mr. Aventurine, I take my responsibilities very seriously." Aventurine scoffed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure you do, Doctor. But actions speak louder than words," he retorted smoothly. "Your child may need more than just assurances."
Dr. Ratio's jaw clenched, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he regained his composure. "You may think you know best, gambler, but meddling in my personal affairs is not your place," he shot back, his tone cool and controlled.
However, Aventurine could see the doubt lingering in Dr. Ratio's gaze, a crack in the facade that only he seemed to notice.
"Suit yourself," Aventurine chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "But remember, sometimes a little help is all it takes to make things right."
Dr. Ratio's expression hardened as he glared at him, his resolve unwavering despite Aventurine's words. "What are you trying to propose, gambler?"
Aventurine simply shrugged, his smile never faltering. "Just offering a friendly suggestion; leave the kid to me," he replied casually before turning to leave, leaving Dr. Ratio to ponder his words in silence.
Leave [Y/N] to Aventurine?
He clicked his tongue in disapproval, knowing that trusting the gambler was a risky move. He couldn't ever pass his child to his companion when he knew Adventurine's background was filled with deception and unpredictability. What does he know about parenting anyway?
It's funny that as soon as he thought those words, they stuck with him as well.
What does Dr. Ratio know about parenting? He knows that a parent must always let their children get involved in their academic pursuits if they wish to secure a future or be worthless. He knows that, as a parent, emotions are useless, a distraction from the ultimate goal of one's dream, and an inconvenience to be avoided at all costs.
Dr. Ratio knows what he's doing when it comes to raising successful children, even if his methods may seem harsh to some. He doesn't need someone like Aventurine to remind him about something he doesn't know.
"Insolent fool," Dr. Ratio mumbled, rolling his eyes at the thought of Aventurine questioning his parenting skills. He is confident in his approach and believes in the importance of discipline and focus for achieving success.
