Chapter Text
As a peacock hybrid, Aventurine had always believed that finding a mate was something far out of his reach. All the other potential hybrids—those who shared his unique feathers and customs—were long gone. Extinct, forgotten by time, just like their vibrant traditions. The world had become smaller, lonelier, and yet he never quite felt the sting of that isolation until recently. He’d grown used to it, after all. The idea of a mate, of someone who might care about him, seemed impossible . Especially with someone like him: unpredictable, chaotic, and perhaps a bit too frivolous for his own good. Sure, flirting had always come naturally—smooth talking was his forte—but that was all it ever was: surface-level, fleeting exchanges. Never anything deeper.
But then came Penacony.
The mission had been harrowing, filled with its fair share of near-death moments, but amidst the chaos, one thing stood out to him, brighter than all the other memories. It was the way that esteemed doctor, Veritas Ratio , had looked at him . Maybe it was the way he’d checked on Aventurine after the fight, his eyes scanning over him with a flicker of concern, the way his eyes lingered for just a moment longer when the blond had been in pain. Maybe it was the way he hadn’t entirely brushed him off when Aventurine cracked a joke, despite that ever-present sharp tongue. Ratio had acted like it was nothing, of course—he always did. That cold, logical exterior was nearly impenetrable, but Aventurine had seen it . He had felt it. Beneath the layers of academic brilliance and sharp wit, the doctor cared. Even if it was just a flicker, a fleeting moment of concern, it was there.
For the first time in a long while, the gambler felt something stir. It wasn’t just the usual light flirtation that he was so accustomed to throwing around. This was different. It was deeper, more unsettling, and completely out of his control. He’d never seriously courted anyone before. Flirting came as naturally to him as breathing—smooth words and easy smiles that were more like a game than anything meaningful. But this? This was something else entirely.
What was the point, when he had no one left to share his culture with? No one could truly understand what it meant to be a Sigonian peacock hybrid. And yet... He wasn’t a peacock, sure, but he was something special in his own right. A brilliant, eccentric man who didn’t fit neatly into anyone’s expectations.
The days after the mission had been filled with too much thinking. He found himself thinking about the doctor more often than he'd like to admit, wondering how it would feel to have those cool, logical eyes soften for him. To have the man’s sharp wit aimed not just at pointing out his flaws but maybe... just maybe. .. showing affection .
He’d always been quick to brush off feelings—what was the point of brooding when he could charm his way through life? But this... This wasn’t just another game or casual banter.
It is ridiculous, isn’t it? He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his soft, iridescent feathers. And yet, after everything, after weeks of suppressing the small but growing crush, Aventurine found himself daring to consider it—courting the doctor.
Something he had never tried before.
What was he even thinking? Ratio was esteemed, brilliant, and more importantly, deserving of someone far more dignified than him. A fellow scholar, maybe, someone from his own kind.
The gambler swallowed hard. Someone better.
But no matter how many times he tried to talk himself out of it, the feeling wouldn’t leave. It was gnawing at him now. A quiet, insistent thought that if he didn’t try—if he didn’t at least make his feelings known—he’d regret it.
The idea made him nervous. It wasn’t like he had anyone left to teach him how to do it properly. All those old peacock courting traditions had been lost with the others. He could barely remember the stories his parents had told him before they were gone, snippets of rituals that no one practised anymore.
But maybe, that was better. After all, if he was the only person who—hardly—knew about those traditions, Ratio wouldn’t be aware as well. He could excuse his behaviours and save whatever was between them if the doctor expressed his disinterest.
And so, after much internal debate and a great deal of overthinking, he made a decision. He would court the esteemed doctor in his own way. At least try doing so.
It was a terrifying thought at first. Courting wasn’t something he did. It was a ritual, a serious gesture rooted in tradition—something sacred in the now-forgotten customs of his people. The idea of offering a part of himself, of being vulnerable, was daunting. But if there was one thing he was good at, it was taking risks. And perhaps, just this once, he could gamble on something other than fortune or strategy. He could gamble on... love.
It wasn’t like him to hesitate this much, and yet here he was, overthinking every step, every word, every gesture. What if it backfired? What if Ratio didn’t understand? Or worse—what if he did understand and still rejected him? His chest tightened at the thought, but he also knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
So, he decided to take one step at a time, thinking of one thing stuck with him—the gesture that, according to his culture, meant more than any words ever could. It was a good starting point, nothing too serious but in a way that could express his feelings.
He would give Ratio a feather.
A feather held multiple meanings in the blond's culture. First, it was a way to display his vibrant colours and genetics, a subtle invitation for the other person to appreciate his traits. Second, it symbolised health and strength, signifying that he was an ideal mate. While the gesture couldn’t be simplified to “I want you as my mate, and I hope this feather convinces you to see me the same way,” it came close. It was merely the first step in a series of gestures, as the peacock would continue to prove himself in various other ways thereafter.
It wasn’t an easy decision, choosing which feather to give. He spent longer than he should have staring at his reflection, turning slightly from side to side as he debated. A vibrant blue one, perhaps? No, too bold. Something softer, more understated, something that wouldn’t overwhelm Ratio’s more reserved nature. He’d plucked it after an embarrassing amount of preening, settling on a deep, iridescent green feather. It glimmered softly in the light, delicate but meaningful.
The doctor was rational, methodical, admired by so many for his brilliant mind. The blond felt so small in comparison, his flamboyant nature and carefree attitude often masking the deep insecurities that lay beneath. What could he possibly offer to someone like Ratio? A mere feather felt like nothing in the grand scheme of things, yet it was the only way he knew how to express these feelings that had grown, unbidden, inside him.
Aventurine held it up, studying it one last time, his fingers lightly brushing the soft, iridescent feather he’d chosen. It was one of his finest, one that shimmered with the deep greens that only a peacock hybrid could boast.
What if there was a chance, however small, that Ratio might feel something too?
This was it—the first step. It was a risk, a massive one, especially since he had no idea if the doctor would even understand the gesture. Maybe he’d laugh, or worse, be offended. Maybe he’d see this as another one of the blond’s reckless stunts. Or, what if he saw it as some strange Sigonian tradition with no significance?
But no, Aventurine couldn’t let fear rule him. Not this time. He had to take the risk, didn’t he? That’s what he had always done, after all—played the odds, taken chances when others wouldn’t. He thought over and over, his fingers lightly brushing against one of his own vibrant feathers. His mind was racing, caught between the fear of failure and the pull of wanting to let Ratio know just how important he was to him.
The next time he saw Ratio, he would give it a try. And if the doctor didn’t throw the feather back in his face, well, that would be a start.
To his luck, he was so busy for the next few days, he didn’t even have time to think about the feather. But when he did, he found himself in front of the doctor’s office.
“Okay, Aventurine,” he muttered to himself, looking at the feather in his hands. “Just... hand it over, say something smooth, and don’t mess this up.” Instead of literally giving it like that, he’d decided to give it in a small, glass case. It glimmered under the dim lights in the corridor, iridescent and soft.
He took a deep breath, puffed his tail and wings, then checked if he looked proper.
It’s all or nothing, I guess.
Finally, before he could convince himself to turn away, Aventurine raised his hand and knocked gently on the door. He waited, anxiety prickling under his skin as he heard a muffled response from the other side.
“Come in.”
The door creaked as he pushed it open. Ratio sat at his desk, surrounded by papers and books, his sharp eyes focused on something that looked impossibly complex. He barely glanced up, a fleeting acknowledgment, before returning to his work. Typical.
“Gambler? What brings you here?” His voice was cool and distant, his feathers ruffling slightly. After spending that much time with the doctor, the blond could tell about his mood from his voice alone. And it seemed like Ratio wasn’t in a bad mood, almost in a good one even.
“Hey, doctor,” he gulped, hiding the case behind him. Then, he took a few steps, feeling nervous but excited as he placed the feather onto the table. “ I, uh, I wanted to give you something,” he swallowed before a small smile formed on his lips, “Here, a gift. For everything.”
The blond’s nervous gaze flickered toward Ratio’s face, trying to see if he understood the gesture. Instead, the doctor just stared at it, his sharp eyes narrowing in confusion, a brow raising ever so slightly. “You... found a feather?”
“Yeah!” Aventurine said quickly, forcing a smile. “I just—uh—found it lying around, thought you might like it.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He had found it, right after yanking it from his own tail in a fit of romantic desperation.
Ratio’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You found a perfect, intact feather lying around? Convenient.”
Aventurine's forced smile faltered, his heart sinking. Oh no . “Well, you know, birds lose feathers all the time, right? As a bird yourself.” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to keep the mood light.
Ratio didn’t seem convinced. “Yes. When they’re sick or injured. Should I be worried you're shedding feathers now? Last I checked, that wasn't normal.”
Aventurine winced internally. Of course , Ratio would see it that way, looking at it from a logical side. “Well, I’m perfectly fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not like I’m ill or anything. See?” He turned around, puffing his tail and the small wings at his back, showing off the vibrant colours.
“Is that so?” The doctor hummed, his eyes watching the blond intently. The gambler almost asked to court him right there and then. “And what should be the meaning of this?”
Well, that was the golden question. However, even though he felt warm when Ratio asked if he should be worried about him, he still decided to not be that direct. “I just thought you would like it, doctor,” he said, resting his hip against the table.
Ratio squinted, clearly not convinced. “Like it?” he repeated, the scepticism heavy in his voice. “Since when did you think I had a hobby collecting random objects?”
Aventurine’s chest tightened. He’d hoped this would be a small, subtle gesture, but left it to Ratio to dissect every detail. He forced a grin. “Oh, come on. You’re always so serious. Thought it might lighten up your office.”
Ratio tilted his head, giving Aventurine a long, scrutinising look. “Is that what you're doing now? Decorating my space without asking?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s next, gambler? Will you take responsibility?”
Aventurine’s wings flared slightly in irritation, though he tried to play it cool. “Well, at least I’m trying something,” he shot back, folding his arms defensively. “You could use a little more flair around here. The place looks like it belongs to a funeral director.”
Ratio snorted softly, glancing around his minimalist office. “I prefer functionality over... whatever this is,” he said, gesturing vaguely with the feather. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve ever had an eye for subtlety, peacock.” His voice carried a teasing edge, but there was still that undertone of curiosity as he absently twirled the feather.
Aventurine bristled at the jab, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “And you’re as dry as ever, doctor. You really could learn to enjoy something pretty every now and then.” He paused, biting his lip. Was that too much? Had he given too much away? His fingers twitched, resisting the urge to snatch the feather back and call the whole thing off.
Ratio just stared at him for a long moment, his sharp eyes scanning Aventurine's face. “Pretty, huh?” he mused, his voice low and thoughtful. For a moment, his expression softened, like he was considering something more. But then he shook his head, clearing the thought away. “Sure, gambler. I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in the market for… decorative feathers .”
The blond huffed, half-exasperated but mostly embarrassed. “You know what? Forget it,” he muttered, already stepping back toward the door. “Should’ve known better than to expect you to appreciate a gift.”
He turned to leave, his wings and tail drooping slightly, but before he could get far, Ratio called out after him. “Wait. Gambler.”
Aventurine paused, his hand hovering near the doorknob, but he didn’t turn around.
Ratio’s voice softened slightly, just enough to catch Aventurine off guard. “I’m not saying I don’t appreciate it.” There was an awkward pause. “Seriously though, what’s this about? Is this another one of your gambling tricks?”
Aventurine clenched his jaw, his heart pounding. He wanted to explain, to tell Ratio what it really meant, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he let out a nervous laugh. “What? No! It’s not—it’s not a trick. It’s just… a gift. A gesture." He was flailing, trying to salvage the situation, but the doctor’s unyielding gaze only made it worse.
“A gift.” Ratio repeated the word, rolling it over his tongue as if testing its meaning. His eyes flicked back to the feather, and then to Aventurine. “How thoughtful of you.” That was sarcasm, right? Or was he overreacting? Still, Aventurine’s blood boiled.
“Why do you always have to be like this?” he snapped, taking a step closer. “I try to do something nice, and you act like it’s some kind of joke. You know what, forget it. Just—just keep the damn feather.”
Ratio raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by Aventurine’s outburst. “I’m not the one getting worked up over a piece of plumage," he replied coolly. "But fine, if you want me to keep it, I will. Not sure what I’m supposed to do with it, though.”
Aventurine could feel his cheeks heating up, embarrassment mixing with frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re overly dramatic,” Ratio shot back, but there was no malice in his voice, only the faintest hint of amusement.
Aventurine didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them stretched a little too long. Finally, he sighed. “Whatever. See you around, doc.”
Without another word, he left the office, leaving Ratio sitting there, still holding the feather, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.
The doctor blinked after him, then glanced down at the feather again. “What in the…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. But there was something in his expression—something like restraint, as if he was biting back a laugh, or maybe just... letting Aventurine be for now.
He sighed, slipping the feather onto his desk, pretending it wasn’t there. Yet, his gaze kept drifting back to it, his mind turning over the puzzle that the blond had just left in his hands.
Ratio had always prided himself on his logical mind, his ability to dissect any problem with the precision of a scalpel. Yet here he was, holding a vibrant, pristine feather that Aventurine had just given him, feeling utterly… lost.
“A feather?” he muttered under his breath, turning it between his fingers as if its meaning would suddenly unravel itself with enough scrutiny.
Why in the world would Aventurine—a peacock hybrid, no less—give him , an owl hybrid, a feather? For Ratio, feathers didn’t hold sentimental value. In owl culture, giving someone a feather was akin to saying, “I wish you ill” or even, “I hope you get sick.” It also carried a layer of subtle mockery, as if to imply, “My feathers are more beautiful than yours.” It was more of an insult than a gesture of affection. Was Aventurine mocking him? Had he done something to offend the flamboyant gambler without realising it?
He paced around the room, deep in thought. His wings shifted unconsciously, brushing against his sides, feathers ruffling in irritation. The sheer brightness of Aventurine’s feather, so radiant and obnoxiously colourful, felt like a headache in his hand. He huffed, narrowing his eyes at it.
Why was it so… shiny?
The colours were too much, overwhelming, blinding even. Aventurine always had a flair for the dramatic, and his feathers—just like the man himself—were no exception. Ratio winced, trying to shove down the strange flicker of appreciation he felt for the damn thing’s beauty. It was an impressive feather, annoyingly so. Long, iridescent, the colours shifting slightly under the light. Ugh, typical gambler.
But still— why ? Ratio glanced toward the door, where Aventurine had awkwardly scampered off moments ago, looking like a bird caught in a storm. It was clear the peacock had intended the feather as a gift, but the doctor couldn’t wrap his head around the gesture. Gifting a feather wasn’t just pointless to him—it bordered on offensive . No owl in their right mind would give someone a feather.
Ratio’s brow furrowed, confusion swirling in his chest. Is that what Aventurine thinks of me?
His mind wandered back to their earlier interactions—the peacock’s ridiculous displays of feathers, his puffed-up chest, and how he always seemed to strut a little closer when the doctor was around. Every move Aventurine made seemed loud, dramatic, a spectacle in itself. Ratio had chalked it up to his peacock personality, but now, looking at the feather, things didn’t quite add up. Was Aventurine trying to… impress him?
Ratio groaned, his wings flapping once in exasperation. No, that couldn’t be it. Peacocks had their own strange customs, but Aventurine wasn’t that clueless… right? He glanced down at the feather again, its beauty undeniably catching the light in the most irritating way possible. Stop admiring it, Ratio, he mentally scolded himself, trying to shake off the strange warmth in his chest.
“Why do you have to be so complicated, gambler?” he muttered under his breath. He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose in frustration. The more he thought about it, the more tangled his thoughts became. Maybe the blond did find him… unimpressive? Maybe that feather was a way of saying Ratio was boring.
But then again… why had Aventurine been so flustered when handing it over?
He clicked his head to the side softly, his confusion deepening. Confused owl noises seemed to swirl inside his head as he mulled over the possible meanings. “This feather is going to be the death of me,” he grumbled, trying not to think about how soft it felt between his fingers.
But still, as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t deny the faint admiration stirring within him. Aventurine’s feathers were stunning, like a vivid explosion of colour in a world of dull greys and browns. Ratio’s own feathers, practical and dark shades of purple, were a stark contrast. He preferred it that way, of course—why bother with flashiness when sleek, aerodynamic design was far more useful? And yet…
Damn it, Ratio thought, trying to push the ridiculous notion aside. He tossed the feather onto his desk and folded his arms as he shook his head. “You’re overthinking this,” he told himself sternly.
Still, the feather gleamed under the light, daring him to look at it again.
Ratio huffed, cheeks slightly puffing out in a rare display of frustration. The gambler had no idea what kind of mess he’d just started. And the doctor, with all his PhDs and brilliance, was utterly unequipped to figure it out.
Aventurine paced back and forth in his room, his wings occasionally twitching in frustration. He couldn’t believe it—how could Ratio not understand what the feather meant? For the blond, it had been a carefully selected, vibrant display of his affection. But the doctor? He had stared at it like it was a dead leaf. Aventurine could almost feel the heat rising to his cheeks again as he replayed the interaction in his mind. “He thought I was sick!” he groaned aloud, clutching his head.
He flopped onto his bed, ruffling his feathers in exasperation. “Maybe something more practical would make him happy?” he muttered. Ratio didn’t seem like the type to care about flashy things—he was all logic and function, wasn’t he? Maybe if Aventurine found something useful, something that didn’t scream, Look at my shiny feathers! , the doctor would appreciate it. But what could possibly impress someone who thought in pure calculations and rationality? A pocket calculator? A notebook with grid paper? Oh gods, that’s terrible.
Aventurine sighed deeply, staring up at the ceiling. Practical was one thing, but he didn’t want to give something soulless. No, in his culture, the gift had to be natural, valuable, and imbued with meaning. Something to decorate the home, he thought, the gears slowly turning in his head. That’s it!
Peacocks traditionally gave gifts to enhance the home environment, things that were both beautiful and functional as decorations. It was a symbol of shared life, a subtle way of saying, “This is something we’ll both appreciate.” His mind wandered over possible options, the idea clicking into place. A stone. Something striking. Big enough to be meaningful, but not so big that it’s impractical.
His feathers perked up a little. “Yes, yes, a stone could work,” he said to himself, sitting up with sudden energy. He recalled seeing some impressive ones on his last outing—gems and crystals of all kinds that would make perfect gifts. “But which one?”
The blond mentally flipped through his options. Aventurine stone was an obvious pick—it had his name, after all. A soft green colour, earthy but still eye-catching. Would Ratio think he was being egotistical? Perhaps he’d find it amusing instead. He nodded thoughtfully. “Aventurine… That would be a good choice.”
But then again, there was amethyst. Beautiful, deep purple, and known for its calming properties. He would say it was just like Ratio himself, but surely Ratio filled him with as much excitement as he did calm. He pictured the doctor’s reaction—he would probably scoff, claiming not to believe in such nonsense. Still, Aventurine couldn’t help but think the purple would look stunning against Ratio’s wings. He sighed, ruffling his feathers again. “Why is this so hard? ”
After a few more moments of indecision, he made up his mind. Both. He would get both stones and figure it out later. Why not cover all his bases? If one didn’t work, maybe the other would. Maybe, just maybe, one of them would make Ratio understand what the gambler had been trying to say with that feather.
His heart lightened at the thought. Maybe this time, he’ll see the meaning behind it, Aventurine thought, already planning how to present the gifts. “I just need to find the right moment…”
Aventurine’s breath quickened as he stood in front of the doctor’s door, balancing two large, decorative boxes in his hands. His tail feathers flared out behind him, shimmering with hues of green and blue, and he could feel the weight of his decision—literally and figuratively. He was going to present not one, but two gemstones. Surely, this time, he’d make an impression.
The door swung open to reveal Ratio, dressed simply in a loose, comfortable shirt and relaxed pants. His dark hair was tousled, framing his face with an effortless, just-woken allure that left Aventurine speechless. For a heartbeat, Aventurine stood frozen, pulse racing as he took in the sight. Ratio looked… unexpectedly captivating in his unguarded, casual state and before he could stop himself, Aventurine’s wings and tail puffed out more in a flamboyant display. Okay, stay cool.
“Aventurine?” Ratio's voice cut through his flustered state, his expression somewhere between curiosity and wariness. “What’s with all the… boxes?” His eyes shifted between the bulky items and the blond’s awkwardly large tail feathers, which were now practically blocking the hallway.
“Uh, yeah!”Aventurine forced a smile, kicking the door with his foot to keep it from closing in his face. “Just a little something for you. You know, since last time the feather thing didn’t really… land .” He winced internally at the memory. Oh God, why did I bring that up?
The doctor raised a brow, his sharp, owl-like eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you scheming now, gambler?”
“Nothing bad, I promise! Just a, um, gift. Again.” Aventurine pushed past him into the house, carefully manoeuvring the boxes inside. “I figured... maybe something more practical this time.” He turned, offering Ratio what he hoped was a winning smile, but the owl hybrid just looked more perplexed than ever.
Ratio closed the door behind them, crossing his arms. His gaze flickered to Aventurine’s expanded wings and tail with mild irritation. “Last time, you gave me a feather, and now you’re giving me rocks? First you’re ill, now are you planning a landscaping project?”
Aventurine blinked, confused for a second before his brain caught up to Ratio's owl logic. “Oh, no, no! These aren’t just rocks. They’re valuable stones—decorative, you know? From my culture, it’s, um… customary to offer these to someone important.” He stepped closer, laying the boxes on the nearest table with exaggerated care. “They’re supposed to bring beauty and—uh, good vibes to your home.”
The doctor narrowed his eyes again, looking from the boxes to the blond’s hopeful expression. “Beauty… vibes? You mean, these are… house decorations?” He opened one of the boxes slowly, revealing a gleaming amethyst stone nestled inside. He tilted his head. “You brought me a rock for interior design?”
“Well, technically two rocks,” Aventurine corrected, sliding up beside him with his tail feathers fanning out again, his voice dropping into a more intentional tone. “It’s a gesture, Ratio. I wanted you to have something special, something beautiful to remind you of—well, you know, me.”
The doctor blinked, utterly confused. “You want me to think of you when I look at rocks?”
Aventurine’s smile faltered a little. Is he really not getting this? Determined not to let the moment slip away, he stepped a bit closer, his voice lowering to a smooth, almost teasing tone.
“Last time, you mentioned being worried about my health,” he murmured, the words slow and deliberate, his gaze fixed on Ratio with a mischievous gleam. “Something about feathers? Well… if you’re still concerned…” He glanced down, letting his vibrant, full tail fan out just enough to catch the light, each feather vivid and inviting. “Maybe you could check for yourself? Just to make sure I’m… in perfect condition?”
The doctor blinked, brow knitting in oblivious confusion. “You… want me to inspect your feathers?”
Aventurine’s chuckle was soft and a little breathless, his fingers threading through his own hair as he tried to keep his composure. “I mean, you did say something about sickness, right? Maybe you could… touch them. See if they’re, you know, healthy.” His voice dropped further, a challenge lying just beneath the surface.
Ratio studied him, his gaze travelling from the blond’s face to the plush feathers with an almost clinical precision. “Is this some strange new game you’re playing?” he asked, voice flat but curious.
Aventurine felt a flicker of irritation—and something else, warmer, that he tried to ignore. Leaning even closer, he met Ratio’s gaze, his eyes gleaming, voice lowering to an unmistakably daring whisper. “Or maybe you’re not interested in touching such beautiful feathers?” He paused, letting the moment stretch, barely a breath away. “They are quite soft, you know.”
Ratio’s head tilted as he looked at him, missing the pulse of intensity lingering in the air. “Soft feathers aren’t exactly the pinnacle of health, gambler,” he replied, with that same, detached logic. “I’d be more interested in your moulting patterns.”
Aventurine’s shoulders slumped slightly, a mix of disappointment and disbelief washing over him. He’s really not getting it. But the doctor continued, poking one of the stones with a confused expression.
“So, let me get this straight,” Ratio began, eyeing the glittering amethyst, then back at the gambler’s impressive display of feathers. “First you give me a feather, now you give me rocks, and now you want me to touch your… plumage?”
Aventurine resisted the urge to facepalm, instead forcing another smile. “Yes, Ratio. That’s exactly it. But it’s not just rocks—it's practical. I thought that since you find feathers useless, you’d appreciate something a little more… functional. Although, that feather was carefully chosen.”
Ratio blinked, clearly still not grasping the flirtatious undertone. He rubbed his temple, a confused hoot escaping under his breath. “Gambler, if this is some elaborate scam to redecorate my living room, I’m really not following.”
The blond sighed internally, trying one last time to push the conversation in the right direction. He stood tall, his wings spreading out impressively, leaning in just enough to brush his feathers near Ratio’s arm. “Wouldn’t you say these are the most vibrant, beautiful feathers you’ve ever seen? Surely, even someone as logical as you can appreciate beauty.”
The doctor’s gaze flickered to the feathers, his eyes briefly softening as they reflected the iridescent hues. For a moment, Aventurine thought maybe, just maybe, something was clicking. But then Ratio cleared his throat, his expression returning to its usual deadpan state.
“They are… certainly colourful,” he muttered, glancing away as if to dismiss the thought. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re giving me decorative rocks and offering a feather inspection.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s your endgame, gambler?”
Aventurine resisted the urge to scream. He had given Ratio all the signs—feathers, gifts, even flirtation!—and still, the owl remained oblivious. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but then Ratio’s eyes flicked back to him, sharp and calculating again.
“Are you trying to get a reaction out of me? Because you’ve certainly succeeded in confusing me,” he said, shaking his head in bewilderment.
The blond forced a laugh, his heart sinking just a bit. “Yeah… confusing you was totally the plan.”
Ratio just blinked again, clearly still not understanding a thing while Aventurine could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. That didn’t go as planned— again. He forced a smile, awkwardly edging toward the door, his large tail feathers brushing against Ratio’s table with a faint rustle. “So… I should probably get going. You know, lots to do, busy day and all.”
The doctor watched him, one brow raised. “Already? You’re leaving before I even figure out what’s going on?”
“Yep!” Aventurine chirped, his heart racing as he backed up quickly. “Just, uh, let me know what you think of the rocks. Really think about it, doc.”
With that, he practically bolted for the exit, wings and tail trailing behind him in a flurry of colours. Ratio didn’t move, just staring as Aventurine disappeared down the hallway, the house
door clicking shut in his wake. The owl hybrid stood there for a moment, blinking slowly, still processing what had just happened.
He glanced back at the two boxes sitting on his table. The amethyst stone glittered in the light, vibrant and undeniably beautiful. But all Ratio could think about was the significance of gifting stones. In his culture, offering a stone—especially one meant for decoration—was a sharp-edged gesture. It wasn’t just meaningless; it was insulting. It was the kind of thing you gave when you were making a point, like saying, You have no taste. Your nest is unworthy. I pity whoever ends up mating with you, because they’re doomed to a life of disappointment.
His feathers puffed up involuntarily at the thought. What is the gambler trying to say? He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he paced back and forth in the room. First, the feather—that could’ve meant he was wishing him illness, or maybe it was just Aventurine being Aventurine. But now, stones? His mind whirled with possibilities, none of them making sense.
Is he mocking me? Did I accidentally insult him earlier with the feather thing? Ratio paused, rubbing his temple. He could’ve sworn the blond wasn’t angry. In fact, he hadn’t shown any sign of frustration at all, only that overly eager energy, as if he was trying to impress him. Maybe he was a little angry but that was after Ratio didn’t react to the feather. But why give him something that, in owl culture, was practically a slap in the face?
Ratio’s thoughts spiralled. Is this revenge? Some kind of weird, passive-aggressive comeback because I didn’t react properly to the feather?
But then he remembered the way the gambler had looked at him a few seconds ago, the way his tail had fanned out, the way his feathers had shimmered under the light. There hadn’t been any malice in Aventurine’s expression—just… excitement. Eagerness, even.
That doesn’t line up with him being mad, Ratio mused, frowning as he glanced back at the stones. He leaned down, inspecting the aventurine stone more closely. It was flawless, smooth and gleaming, like something straight out of a collector’s dream. His fingers brushed lightly over its surface, and despite his confusion, he couldn’t help but admire its beauty.
It’s beautiful, he thought absentmindedly, before shaking his head. Wait, no! That’s not the point!
Ratio straightened up, staring at the stones like they were part of some intricate puzzle he was failing to solve. Aventurine’s gifts didn’t add up. Why give him something with such a heavy, almost sarcastic meaning in owl culture, and yet, deliver it with such enthusiasm?
He couldn’t possibly know what it means to owls, Ratio reasoned, pacing again. But if he doesn’t know… then what does it mean to him ?
His mind wandered back to the blond’s departure. The peacock hybrid had practically been beaming when he mentioned the stones, like he’d thought they were the perfect gift. There had been no sign of hidden mockery or frustration. But that tail display… was he trying to make a point? Or was that… flirting?
The doctor’s wings twitched in agitation as he processed the thought. Flirting? His mind struggled to catch up with the possibility, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Aventurine had been hovering close, tail feathers fanned out in what Ratio had dismissed as posturing. But now, looking back, he could see the small, subtle hints—the lingering glances, the way Aventurine’s voice had lowered, the slight, almost playful touches of his wings.
Was he… trying to court me? Ratio stopped dead in his tracks, staring blankly at the stones. His heart gave an unexpected flutter, but he quickly brushed it off. No, no. That can’t be right. I’m just overthinking it.
But the idea refused to leave his mind. If he is courting me, why use stones? Does he not realise what they mean to owls?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. He let out confused owl noises, his voice tinged with exasperation. This entire situation was starting to feel like an elaborate prank, except Aventurine didn’t seem the type to pull such a complicated joke—especially not with such expensive-looking stones.
He glanced back at the amethyst and the aventurine again, frowning. They are… beautiful, he admitted to himself, despite the cultural misstep. The gemstones shimmered with a natural elegance that Ratio, despite his logical nature, couldn’t help but appreciate. Not to mention, the stones were similar to them. And considering the blond was beautiful as well as the stone—
Wait. Beautiful? Ratio’s brow furrowed. Why am I thinking about Aventurine like that? His thoughts shifted back to the peacock hybrid’s extravagant feathers, the bright, vibrant display that had filled the room with colour. They had been striking, impossible to ignore. For all his confusion and irritation, Ratio couldn’t deny that he had a certain… allure.
Allure? No, no, no. Focus . He shook his head, dismissing the thought.
But still, the memory lingered. Aventurine’s feathers had been—well, Ratio wasn’t going to say it out loud, but they had been… nice. Incredibly vibrant, shimmering with an almost hypnotic appeal. But they’re just feathers. Beautiful ones, sure, but still just feathers.
Ratio’s head started to hurt, his thoughts becoming a tangled mess of cultural misinterpretations, feathers, and rocks. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell is going on?” he muttered to himself.
He needed answers, but the problem was, every time he tried to get a straight explanation from Aventurine, the peacock hybrid seemed to dance around it, throwing flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures. The stones, the feathers, the tail displays—none of it made sense.
But deep down, part of him was starting to wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind Aventurine’s antics than simple confusion or pranks. Something that made Ratio’s heart beat just a little faster, though he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
For now, all he could do was sigh, staring at the glittering stones and silently cursing his inability to understand whatever strange game the gambler was playing.
Ratio paced the small room of his office, glancing down at the neatly packed box resting on his desk. It was filled with carefully prepared food—an assortment of grilled meats, herbs, and a light vegetable salad, all portioned and arranged with precision. The scent of roasted spices lingered in the air, earthy and inviting, a perfect meal for someone he… respected. That was the word he told himself. Respect, yes, that was exactly it.
His feathers fluffed in subtle agitation as his mind raced. We need to sort out whatever’s been going on, he thought. Whatever strange misunderstandings they kept running into needed to be addressed. The feather incident, the rocks—Aventurine’s gestures, his constant flirting, the tail feathers on full display… No , he corrected himself, shaking his head slightly. Not flirting—just confusing antics. There's no way he’s flirting. He can’t be… right?
Ratio’s sharp, sunset eyes darted to the meal box again. Offering food—especially home-prepared—was how you showed someone you cared in his culture. It wasn’t flashy like the blond’s bright displays, but it meant something deeper, more personal. It was the owl hybrid way of saying, I’m giving you something meaningful, I want to understand you. Take care of you, even.
And right now, Ratio desperately needed to understand what was going on between them.
With a huff, he picked up the box, its warmth seeping through the container, and headed for the door. Time to track down the peacock hybrid.
He found Aventurine at the exit of The Strategic Investment Department, clearly about to leave for the day. His glossy, iridescent feathers were hard to miss, shimmering under the late afternoon light as the peacock hybrid adjusted them, running a hand over his tail with a distracted look.
Ratio’s eyes narrowed in on his movements. Is he always like this?
Clearing his throat, he stepped into view. "Aventurine."
The peacock hybrid visibly jumped, his wings twitching in surprise as he spun around. “Uh, doctor! Hi! Uh… fancy seeing you here.” His voice was a little too cheerful, and his eyes flicked toward the door, a clear escape route. But he lingered, trying to fix his feathers as he spoke, running his hands through the soft, colourful plumes as if they weren't already perfect.
Ratio raised a brow. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me?”
“What? Me? Avoiding you?” The blond’s wings fanned out slightly, and his tail feathers gave an involuntary shake as he forced a laugh. “N-no, of course not! Why would I do that? I’ve just… been busy, you know? Lots of things going on. Very, very important business, lots of deadlines. You know how it is!” His eyes darted from side to side, looking everywhere but at him.
The doctor’s expression remained unreadable, his piercing owl-like gaze cutting through Aventurine’s excuses. “Right. Busy.” He stepped closer, the box of food held in one hand, wings subtly adjusting behind his back. “Well, before you dash off to your very important business, I wanted to give you something.”
Aventurine blinked, his tail feathers perking up immediately as curiosity lit up his eyes. “Oh?” His voice had a hopeful lilt to it, like he was waiting for some grand gesture, his fingers nervously twitching at his side. “What is it?”
Without a word, Ratio extended the box toward him, his expression cool and calm, though his feathers ruffled slightly with anticipation. “Here.”
For a moment, the gambler’s face lit up with excitement. His wings gave a tiny, involuntary flutter, and his tail feathers puffed out in a glorious fan of colour. But then, as his gaze dropped to the box, his expression faltered. Food?
His excitement deflated almost instantly, and the vibrant fan of his feathers drooped slightly. He took the box hesitantly, holding it like it was something fragile. “Oh… uh, thanks. This is… nice.”
Ratio frowned, watching as Aventurine’s entire demeanour changed, the once-excited energy slipping away. He tilted his head, owl-like curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”
Aventurine hesitated, looking between the box and the doctor, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, nothing, really! I mean… it’s just food. I appreciate it, I do. But, you know… if I was a bother to you before, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to… uh… get in your way.” His voice trailed off, wings twitching uncomfortably.
Ratio blinked, confused. “What are you talking about, bother? You’re not bothering me. Why would giving you food mean you’re bothering me?”
Aventurine’s tail feathers twitched again, and his eyes darted to the door. He held the box closer to his chest, his wings fidgeting as he awkwardly shuffled his feet. “I mean, I just… I don’t know. Maybe I did something wrong. You know, with the feathers and then the stones… if this is your way of telling me to back off, it’s fine, I get it! I’ll, uh… I’ll just take this and—”
Ratio’s wings flared slightly in frustration. “Hold on a minute, gambler. That’s not what this is. It’s just food. Nothing to do with you bothering me.”
The blond gave him a tight smile, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Well, thanks anyway.” He clutched the box and took a step backward. “I, uh, really do have something important to get to, so I should—”
Ratio’s feathers bristled. “Aventurine, wait.” His tone was firmer now, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re acting like I handed you a letter of resignation. It’s a meal. What’s so upsetting about that?”
“It’s not—” Aventurine sighed, running a hand through his hair as his wings folded tightly behind him. “It’s not upsetting, I promise. It’s just… not what I expected. I thought…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting to the side as he adjusted his tail feathers nervously.
Ratio squinted at him, clearly not understanding what was going on. “What were you expecting? A gold medal?”
The blond laughed awkwardly. “No, no, just… never mind. It’s not important. Really, I appreciate the gesture, I do.” He smiled again, though it didn’t have the usual warmth behind it. “But, uh, I really do have to go. Important work, you know?”
Before the doctor could protest further, Aventurine gave him a small, apologetic wave and quickly started making his way toward the door. Ratio’s sharp eyes tracked every movement, from the way the gambler’s wings fluttered in agitation to the slight droop in his tail feathers. He could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of the peacock hybrid as he slipped out the door, leaving Ratio standing there with more questions than answers.
For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the now-closed door, his wings twitching in irritation. What just happened? He had given Aventurine a perfectly good meal—nothing sarcastic, nothing insulting, just food. And yet, the blond had reacted like it was some kind of rejection.
Ratio let out a frustrated sigh, his feathers fluffing up again as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m missing something,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
None of it made sense. Aventurine practically collapsed onto the soft cushions of his office couch, tossing his jacket aside and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Oh, gods…” He groaned, his voice muffled by the fabric. That was so embarrassing.
The moment with Ratio replayed in his mind, making him cringe internally. I thought he was going to… I don’t know, smile at me? Say something flirty back? But instead, Ratio had handed him that food, and it felt like a punch to the gut. His beautiful, vibrant feathers, the ones he had spent hours preening and arranging perfectly before every interaction, had wilted under the weight of Ratio’s cool, logical demeanour.
Food. He gave me food. Aventurine’s mind raced back to his culture, to what that gesture meant for him, for his people.
In Sigonian traditions, giving someone food in that way was like saying, You can’t even hunt for yourself, can you? You’re not capable of providing for anyone, least of all a mate. It was a rejection wrapped in practicality. You can’t take care of yourself. You’ll never take care of anyone else. And to receive it, especially from someone you were trying to impress, was like being dismissed altogether.
He groaned louder, rolling onto his back dramatically. Did I completely mess this up? He grabbed a shiny coin from the table next to him, flipping it in the air, catching it, then flipping it again. The spinning silver gave his fidgety hands something to do while his mind spiralled into overthinking.
I tried the feather. He didn’t like that. I tried the stones. Didn’t work. I was discreet, then flirty and both did not work out. His feathers fanned out slightly under him, the colourful plumes still as perfect as ever, even as he sulked. “Now… food?!” His wings twitched, his tail feathers bristling with frustration. Why didn’t he just tell me outright? Ratio was always so straightforward about everything else, except for this. I’ve been bending over backwards trying to impress him! Why can’t he just… see it?
The coin flew higher into the air, and Aventurine caught it effortlessly. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. He sighed. Maybe if I had brought something more meaningful, he wouldn’t have rejected me. His mind wandered to more possible gifts—flowers, rare gems, maybe even a…
But then, his thoughts looped back to the food. What if I’m overthinking it? What if he really was just giving me food? He stared at the ceiling, a small frown forming. No, there’s no way that wasn’t loaded. There has to be some hidden meaning there. I’ve been reading him wrong all along. There’s always some deeper message with Ratio, right?
His eyes closed, his wings shifting as he tossed the coin once more, catching it mid-air. Except he didn’t seem angry. He wasn’t cold… well, colder than usual. The blond’s mind flickered back to how Ratio had stood there, calm and collected, the box of food in his hands, his sharp, intense gaze watching his every move.
And those hands… Aventurine let out a soft, breathy sigh, remembering the way Ratio’s fingers had curled around the box, strong and capable. Why did he have to be so effortlessly… He caught the coin again, his brow furrowing. Handsome?
Even when he’s trying to confuse the hell out of me, he has to look that good? His lips twitched into a reluctant smile. Why does he have to be so… him?
He rolled onto his side, hugging a pillow now as his mind swirled with conflicting thoughts. Ratio had been so unreadable, so infuriatingly stoic, but he was also impossibly attractive. Those piercing sunset eyes, always so focused and calculating, had a way of making Aventurine’s heart skip a beat, even when they were locked in one of their many confusing exchanges.
“Ugh,” he muttered, tossing the pillow aside and flipping the coin again. Was he trying to reject me in some roundabout way, or was it just… food?
He frowned deeply, his wings giving an irritated flap as he caught the coin again. But he didn’t respond to any of my flirting! None of it! The feather, the compliments, the—
He groaned. “Do you want to see my tail up close?” Gods, I couldn’t have made it any clearer if I tried! He wanted to bury his face in the pillow and never come out again. His flirting had been blatant, and yet, the doctor remained as oblivious as ever.
Or… maybe Ratio wasn’t oblivious. Maybe he was just… uninterested?
A pang of doubt shot through him. What if Ratio really just… doesn’t like me? He flipped the coin again, watching it spin through the air, shimmering in the office light before he caught it, the cool metal pressing against his palm.
He couldn’t shake the memory of the man’s calm, analytical expression, how there was no malice in his eyes, no cruelty—just… confusion. Like Ratio didn’t know what to do with Aventurine’s gestures, and that made the blond’s stomach twist in knots. Maybe I’m overcomplicating things. Maybe I just… need to stop overanalysing.
But the thought of just stopping made his feathers bristle. He couldn’t. Not now. He wasn’t the type to back down so easily.
Aventurine tossed the coin again, catching it with a sigh. If only he’d just give me some kind of sign. Anything to show that he’s at least interested.
He needed to figure out what was going on. If Ratio was rejecting him—politely, with all those weird owl-culture signals—then maybe Aventurine just needed to try something else.
Or… maybe he needed to give Ratio space. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but maybe it was the only thing left to do.
Still, as he lay there, flipping the coin over and over in his hand, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Ratio’s gesture than he was understanding. And maybe, just maybe, he had misread the whole situation.
But gods , he thought with a huff, rolling onto his back again, staring at the ceiling. Why did he have to look so good doing it?
After a while, Aventurine turned his head to the side, staring at the takeout box on the table with a frown. His fingers drummed against the tablet as he contemplated his next move. I mean… it’s just food. How bad could it be?
He slowly sat up, wings twitching slightly as he pulled the box closer. The aroma was enticing—savoury and rich. It smelled really good, in fact. Did he make this? Aventurine’s brow furrowed. No way he cooked this… right?
Curiosity piqued, he opened the box fully. The meal was carefully prepared—some sort of grilled meat, probably spiced perfectly, with roasted vegetables and a few garnishes that looked almost too pretty to eat. There was even a side of fresh bread, warm and soft to the touch and a light salad. Huh. That’s a lot more effort than I expected for a rejection.
With a hesitant glance around—as if Ratio might somehow be watching—Aventurine picked up the utensils and took a bite. His eyes widened immediately. The flavours were complex, yet familiar, with a perfectly balanced combination of spices. It was delicious.
He took another bite, then another, and before he knew it, he had devoured half the meal. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself between bites. Why does it have to taste so good?
Was this really just food? His mind swirled with possibilities, each more confusing than the last. In Ratio’s culture, does giving someone food mean they think you can’t take care of yourself? That you’re… incapable?
He stabbed a piece of grilled meat with more force than necessary, chewing slowly. Or is it just a practical thing? Maybe he’s not thinking about it that deeply. But then he remembered the doctor’s sharp gaze, how nothing seemed to slip past him. He’s too smart not to know what this means.
After finishing the meal, he sat back, feeling a little more relaxed, but also… perplexed. His wings twitched again, and he caught himself smoothing out his tail feathers. Do I send a message? His hand hovered over his phone. Do I thank him? What if this is some kind of test?
He groaned, slumping against the couch cushions. Overthinking again. Still, his fingers moved on their own, opening a new message.
Aventurine: Thanks for the meal. It was… really good.
He stared at the screen for a moment, waiting for a response. A few minutes passed. Nothing. Maybe he’s busy, Aventurine thought, though his stomach twisted with uncertainty.
Just when he was about to toss his phone aside, it buzzed.
Ratio: So now you want to talk? You were in such a hurry to leave earlier.
Aventurine blinked at the message, his wings giving a slight flap. Okay, that’s fair. He hadn’t exactly stuck around long enough to explain himself.
Aventurine: Well, you caught me off guard, okay? Didn’t expect you to bring… food.
Ratio: Didn’t expect you to bring boulders, but here we are. And feathers. Quite the collection you’ve got going.
Aventurine flushed slightly at that. His feathers puffed up unconsciously, and he smoothed them down again, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.
Aventurine: Hey, those gifts are thoughtful, you know. And they’re beautiful.
Ratio: I’m sure they are. Just like that meal was thoughtful for me.
The blond paused, narrowing his eyes at the screen. Wait… so it really was just food? There wasn’t any hidden meaning behind it? His mind scrambled to interpret the subtext, but he came up short.
Aventurine: ... Right. Well, thanks again. I guess.
He felt a twinge of disappointment as he waited for a couple of minutes, the doctor not replying. Is that it? He’d expected something more—something deeper. Ratio’s calm, almost dismissive tone gnawed at him. Did that mean he wasn’t even remotely interested? Was Aventurine not worth the effort? His stomach twisted again, and he let out a frustrated sigh.
Just then, another message appeared.
Ratio: If you liked it, I can make more. Whenever you want.
He froze, staring at the message. His heart did a strange little flip in his chest, and he wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or devastated. Is that… an offer to help me out, or just more proof that he thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself?
His mind began to spiral again. What if this means he doesn’t see me as a potential mate at all? What if he’s just being nice? He groaned, running a hand through his feathers as he started drafting another message, deleting it, then redrafting it.
Several minutes passed, and Aventurine still hadn’t sent anything. He was too caught up in his own head, dissecting every possible interpretation of Ratio’s offer.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed again.
Ratio: Gambler, are you overthinking again? Or did I actually manage to confuse you for once?
Aventurine couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He chuckled softly, wings fluttering behind him as he read the doctor’s message.
Aventurine: Maybe I am. I’m not used to you offering things like that. It’s… Confusing.
Ratio: Confusing? It's just food. I’m not asking for your life savings, gambler.
Aventurine: Right… just food. Nothing more to it.
He sighed, staring at the screen again. Just food. It wasn’t like Ratio was asking for anything else, after all. He was probably overanalysing it, searching for hidden meanings that weren’t there.
But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he wasn’t seeing. Something subtle, hiding in the lines between the doctor’s calm words.
Or maybe, he thought, I’m just making it more complicated than it needs to be. Either way, he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.