The dad Aventurine fic genuinely made me want to cry but now i can't stop thinking of something
Imagine Aventurine having an extremely chaotic kid, like one of those kids where u take your eyes off of them 00.1 seconds and they 10 broken bones, have broken at least 15 vases and is currently on a sugar rush from eating too much candy.
It can be either a boy or a girl! Im very in love with your writing and i'd love to see your own thoughts on this Idea. Overall just Aventurine having to deal with his little demon spawn
The Greatest Award
Summary: Aventurine’s life is a high-stakes game, but nothing could prepare him for the chaos of parenting his five-year-old child. In a single afternoon, his once-luxurious office is reduced to shambles, courtesy of a sugar-fueled miniature whirlwind. As Aventurine tries to reign in the chaos with his usual charm and strategy, he learns that even the sharpest gambler can’t outwit the boundless energy and imagination of their own child.
Tags: Dad!Aventurine and his demon spawn child, Parent-Child Bonding, Domestic Chaos, Fluff and Humor, Mischievous Child, Found Family Themes.
Warnings: Mildly Destructive Child Antics, Implied Past Trauma(?), Excessive Use of Candy and Paint.
A/N: I lost my previous fic i wrote about this req, seems like it didn't save... 😭😔💔. So, have this while I cry with my broken back 😪
The room, once an opulent display of Aventurine’s impeccable taste, now resembled the aftermath of a casino heist gone wrong. The velvet curtains had been pulled down, puddling on the floor like fallen royalty. His priceless roulette-themed rug? Drenched in some unidentifiable sticky substance that smelled faintly of caramel.
And in the center of it all stood the culprit—Aventurine’s five-year-old child, grinning like a miniature devil. Their hair, much like their father’s, was streaked with suspiciously bright blue paint. In their hand, they wielded what appeared to be the broken leg of an antique chair as if it were a sword, declaring, “I’m the Ruler of the Candy Castle!”
“Darling,” Aventurine’s voice was sharp but calm, his smile firmly in place despite the chaos around him. “Care to explain why my baccarat table is missing a leg?”
The child tilted their head, pretending to think. “A monster ate it.”
“A monster?” Aventurine pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a rare migraine brewing. “Was it the same monster who broke three vases, emptied my desk drawer of poker chips, and decided my coat rack was a jungle gym?”
They nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, and then it told me candy makes monsters go away!”
Before he could respond, they took off like a rocket, their tiny feet thundering across the marble floor.
“Darling—” Aventurine began, but they were already scaling a bookshelf like some kind of sugar-fueled mountain goat.
For a moment, he simply stared, calculating the odds of them not breaking a limb versus the likelihood of toppling the entire structure. Slim to none. He reached out just in time to catch them mid-leap, their laughter ringing in his ears as he set them firmly back on the ground.
“Listen, kitten,” he said, crouching down to meet their wild eyes. “You’re giving Daddy a run for his money, and I don’t lose. But if you keep this up, I might have to start betting on when you’ll turn the entire estate into rubble.”
They gasped dramatically. “You’d bet on me?”
“Absolutely.” He tapped their nose. “But I’d also bet that if you sat down for five minutes—five minutes, mind you—I’d let you pick out the next ridiculous hat I wear to work.”
Their eyes sparkled with devious glee. “Even the one with the feathers?”
Aventurine suppressed a groan. He had gambled with empires, conned royalty, and survived assassination attempts, yet this small, chaotic creature could bring him to his knees with a single demand. “Even the one with the feathers.”
They pretended to consider his offer before darting off again, leaving Aventurine in their wake. A crash echoed from the next room, followed by an enthusiastic, “Oops!”
He stood, smoothing his blazer as he surveyed the wreckage of his once-pristine office. This was just another high-stakes game, he reminded himself. The rules were unconventional, the opponent unpredictable, but Aventurine always played to win.
“Alright, darling,” he called, striding after them. “You’ve forced my hand. It’s time to introduce you to the most dangerous weapon in Daddy’s arsenal.”
They peeked out from behind an overturned chair, curious. “What is it?”
He smirked, pulling out a deck of cards. “A little thing called discipline.”
Their giggle echoed through the halls, and Aventurine couldn’t help but laugh too. Because despite the chaos, the broken vases, and the candy-fueled mayhem, he wouldn’t trade his little demon spawn for all the chips in the universe.
