Hi Rinnie! You can consider this the second part of Reader!Cheshire Cat's request, or maybe not!
It's about the characters (Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Moze, and Childe) arriving home exhausted from work, their minds tired, and they see Reader!Cheshire Cat watching TV while eating ice cream. They then head over, sitting on the couch and then lying on Reader!Cheshire Cat's lap. This doesn't really surprise them, as I expected that to happen at some point. Instead of joking around, they start telling a little story about Red Alice while stroking her hair. It's one of the rare moments where Reader!Cheshire Cat is calm and not his usual chaotic and conniving self.
I should mention that the story of Red Alice isn't technically a story about Reader!Cheshire Cat, but it takes advantage of the fact that there's no information about his "planet."
—–· ☀️🌻 ⟩ Anon.
“The Lap of a Liar, The Truth in a Touch”
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Moze x Reader, Childe x Reader, Cheshire Cat (from Alice in the Wonderland) based Reader, Comfort/Fluff, Established Relationships, Soft Moments, Post-Mission Exhaustion, Emotional Intimacy, Lap Pillows, Hair Stroking, Storytelling as Comfort, Quiet Domesticity, Hidden Vulnerabilities, Mild Angst with Comfort.
Warnings: Emotional Fatigue/Mental Exhaustion, References to Past Trauma (Implied), Mild Survivor’s Guilt / PTSD Themes (?), Touch-Aversion Briefly Touched Upon (?).
The door clicks open with a sharp turn, the sound of Aventurine’s distinct footsteps echoing against the marble. His overcoat flutters slightly as he removes it with a practiced flourish. He’s smiling—of course he is—but there’s a heaviness in his eyes, a drag in his step.
You don’t say anything. You’re sprawled on the couch, spooning ice cream into your mouth, a colorful show playing softly in the background. He pauses, as if debating how to keep up his flamboyant mask.
Then you pat your lap without a word.
“I was wondering when this would happen,” he murmurs with a smirk, tossing his hat onto the nearby chair. He lounges next to you first, then slowly lowers himself across your lap with a dramatic sigh.
Fingertips thread through his tousled hair. You begin to speak, voice low and uncharacteristically steady. “Red Alice once stood at the edge of her world, where the sand turned to glass. She didn’t look back, because she knew her past wasn’t behind her—it lived in her shadow.”
His eyes close.
There’s a flicker in his lashes, a twitch in the hand he thought he had hidden behind his back. Your hand brushes his cheek. No smirks, no cons. Just warmth. He lets it happen.
Ratio enters with the precision of someone who has calculated how many steps it takes from the front door to the couch. His shoulders are squared, but only out of habit. His mind is heavy, logic tangled in fatigue.
He doesn’t announce himself. He sees you: relaxed, TV humming, a spoon clinking in a bowl. Your ears twitch slightly, acknowledging his presence.
Without looking, you pat your lap.
“Statistically speaking,” he murmurs, “you were going to suggest that.”
“Not a suggestion,” you purr softly. “An inevitability.”
He sits beside you, then stretches across your lap like a question waiting for its answer.
You card your fingers through his hair as you begin. “Red Alice learned too late that logic couldn’t map her world. It curved at the edges, folding into dreams. But she walked it anyway, barefoot and brilliant.”
His breath slows. For once, he doesn’t need to speak. He just listens.
The door opens without a sound. Moze steps in, meticulous as always. Blood wiped from his gloves, hood already down, eyes tired but sharp.
He scans the room. You’re there. Ice cream. TV. A calm sort of chaos. You’re quiet—not your usual grinning riddle, not tonight.
You glance up. “Tough night?”
He doesn’t answer. Just steps closer.
You pat your lap.
He hesitates—longer than the others. But then he kneels silently beside the couch, then shifts his weight until he lies across your lap, tension trembling just beneath his skin.
You stroke his hair. Slowly. Gently. His lashes flutter but stay closed.
“Red Alice once buried her name in the snow,” you begin, “because she didn’t want to be found—not by gods, not by ghosts. But the snow melted. It always does.”
You feel the way his breathing changes. Subtle. But there.
He says nothing. But he doesn’t move.
The door bursts open—not harshly, but with that familiar Childe energy, now dulled. He walks in, throws his coat over a chair, and slumps his way in. His eyes meet yours.
You’re watching TV. Still eating ice cream.
He grins—crooked, tired. “You knew I’d come straight here, didn’t you?”
You pat your lap.
“Course you did,” he laughs, and plops down beside you. “Not gonna lie, I was hoping you'd say that.”
He rests his head on your lap. His hair is damp with snow, his cheek cold. You don’t mind.
You run your fingers through the ginger strands and begin to speak.
“Red Alice once danced with shadows at the bottom of a well. She wasn’t trapped. She was learning the dark. She said it taught her to see without light.”
Childe doesn’t interrupt. For once, he’s quiet. He stays still.
“You really are something,” he mumbles at last. “But I think... I needed this.”
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Hngggg maybe uhhh Aventurine & Ratio (separately or both idrc) and others if you'd like with reader who's also a part of the Stonehearts? + their cornerstone has kind of the same effects as Aventurine's?
So like they're in a situation where they might've accidentally (purposefully) activated their cornerstone in front of the character o.O
You can choose what cornerstone reader has or it can be up to the reader's imagination idm :3
A Spark Meant to Be Contained
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Subtle Angst, Power Discovery, Slow Burn, Rivalry to Respect, Banter, Mutual Recognition, Emotional Subtext, Duality Themes, Hidden Vulnerabilities, Found Family Elements.
The ruins of the Penaconian vault shimmer with fractured light, the aftermath of a collapsing simulation.
You hadn’t meant to activate it. Well—maybe you had.
The Cornerstone around your hand pulsed once, radiant and sharp, and before either of you could react, gravity bent to your will. The floor beneath you fragmented. Floating stone shards levitated around you like a halo. Massive coin-shaped constructs—similar in shape but not quite Aventurine’s signature poker chips—hovered in a protective orbit. It was instinct. Survival. A calculated gamble.
When the dust cleared, Aventurine was grinning—his hands in his pockets, head tilted, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Well, well,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “Didn’t think you’d show me your cards that early, sweetheart.”
You floated a few feet off the ground, the Cornerstone's glow fading as your summoned constructs began to flicker out.
“I wasn’t trying to impress you,” you said, brushing dust off your shoulder midair.
Aventurine let out a short, amused hum. “That’s the thing about you—always playing like the pot’s bigger than it is. But between us?” He stepped closer, his feet never leaving solid ground, his gaze locked onto you. “I know when someone’s bluffing.”
Your feet hit the floor just as his did. The sudden closeness made the air shift.
“You should’ve told me,” he added, voice softer now. “Your Cornerstone’s almost a twin to mine. That’s not just rare—it’s impossible.”
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Oh, darling.” He leaned in, adjusting your collar with annoying nonchalance. “You should know better than anyone—I always care about rare things.”
You swatted his hand away. “Careful, or I’ll drop a chip on your head next time.”
“I’d pay to see it,” he smirked, before his expression sobered—just slightly. “But seriously… I saw the way it resonated. The way you controlled it. You’re not just like me. You’re better.”
You raised an eyebrow. That almost sounded like respect—almost.
“What’s the catch?”
His smile deepened, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s just say… it’s nice to know that if I ever go too far, someone out there might be able to call my bluff.”
He turned, but you could tell—he wasn’t dismissing you.
No. In that moment, you’d become a rival, an equal, a wildcard.
And that made you the most dangerous person in Aventurine’s game.
The chamber trembled as residual dream energy crackled along the ceiling, distorting gravity in strange pulses.
“I told you not to tamper with the barrier,” Ratio’s voice was flat, impatient.
“Technically,” you replied, backing away from a collapsing pillar, “I didn’t tamper—I adjusted.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Like an arsonist adjusts a house to make it warmer.”
A particularly violent pulse sent the floor caving in beneath you—and instinct took over. Your Cornerstone, normally subdued, surged to life in a flash of blinding light.
You didn’t fall.
Instead, levitating midair, you summoned a massive glowing construct—hexagonal, geometric, precise like some impossibly large die—beneath your feet. It hovered with cold elegance, stabilizing you as other smaller ones whirled in mathematical formations around you.
Ratio stopped mid-sentence.
“…Fascinating.”
You descended gently, your summoned forms disappearing like chalk dust. His eyes hadn’t left you.
“You’re not surprised,” you said.
“Of course not.” He approached with interest—not concern, but scientific curiosity. “A cornerstone with vector-based construct capability, akin to Aventurine’s. But you manipulate angles and constants, not pure momentum. Your affinity lies in mathematical control.”
You blinked. “That’s... disturbingly accurate for someone who just watched it for five seconds.”
“Incorrect. Four.”
You gave him a look.
He sighed. “Though I must admit,” he continued, “the display was… aesthetically pleasing. Orderly. Intentional. Like a well-written theorem.”
“Was that… your version of a compliment?”
Ratio studied you for a beat longer. “It’s an observation. But if you require emotional validation, I suppose I could phrase it as: Impressive execution. Unexpected elegance. You've refined your abilities beyond rudimentary impulse.”
You grinned. “Flatter me more, Professor.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
A pause.
“…Although,” he added quietly, “there is something gratifying in knowing that another member of the Stonehearts has enough intellectual integrity not to treat their Cornerstone as a glorified lightshow.”
You rolled your eyes, but his words lingered.
Because despite his clinical tone, there was something honest in his fascination—something that hinted at a deeper respect. Maybe even admiration.
Maybe, just maybe... Ratio didn’t need to be impressed.
Hello again! I was wondering if you could make a pastry reader.
Which makes them mostly try their desserts until one day they are given a dessert inspired by them, for example; Aventurine = It would be a small vanilla cake with chocolate and blackberry and strawberry filling.
Just to give an example, with the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Childe and Kaeya (separated). Take your time!
-🩵
Inspired by You
Tags: Childe x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Kaeya x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Fluff, Lighthearted Romance, Lighthearted, Pastry Chef!Reader, Playful Banter, Hidden Vulnerabilities.
(Header credit)
It had started with a simple request.
"Just a little something to brighten the day!" Childe had said, leaning casually against the counter where you worked. He always had that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he knew something you didn’t. You had become used to his presence in the bakery, coming and going with his usual swagger, always asking for something new, something bold, something that would surprise him. Today was no different.
“Do you have anything... intense?" he asked, his smirk unwavering.
Intense? It was a word you could easily work with. You nodded and began to prepare the dessert—something wild and dangerous, much like Childe himself. You wanted to capture his essence in pastry form. The result: a dark chocolate torte filled with a rich, blackberry-strawberry compote and finished with a hint of vanilla bean cream. It was decadent, layered with complexity, and every bite burst with a different flavor, just like Childe’s unpredictable nature.
When you handed it to him, he raised an eyebrow. “This... this is for me?”
“You asked for something intense.” you replied with a playful grin.
He took a bite, and his face lit up with that familiar grin. “Not bad, pastry chef. It’s got layers... I like it. Bold, but sweet.” He paused, eyes glinting. “Just like me, huh?”
“Maybe," you said with a wink. "But you’ll have to try more of it to find out."
The sweet aroma of pastries filled the cozy bakery as you carefully arranged trays of desserts, each one crafted with precision. Aventurine, who had come in to visit you between meetings, watched with his usual amused smile, one hand resting on the counter. He loved tasting your creations, and you enjoyed surprising him with new flavors each time.
Today, however, you had prepared something truly special. "I have something just for you," you said, smiling as you set a small cake before him. The cake was adorned with a delicate chocolate glaze, and inside, layers of vanilla, blackberry, and strawberry hinted at a decadent surprise.
Aventurine raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Inspired by me, hmm? I didn't know I was worthy of such treatment," he teased, running a finger along the glaze before taking a careful bite.
The flavors unfolded slowly—smooth vanilla balanced with rich chocolate, and the tartness of blackberry and strawberry that left an unexpected zing. He paused, caught off guard by the mix of sweetness and slight bitterness, a taste that somehow mirrored the guarded depths he kept hidden.
"You’ve outdone yourself," he finally said, his smile softer, almost reflective. "Sweet, a touch bitter, and altogether surprising... I’d say you captured me quite well." He took another bite, savoring the thoughtfulness behind the cake as much as the flavor itself.
In that quiet moment, it felt like he was lowering his mask, just for you. And as you watched him, you realized that perhaps a simple dessert could reveal the hidden depths of someone you thought you knew so well.
(Header credit)
After weeks of watching Kaeya sample your treats with his usual charm, you finally set your sights on something special. You prepare a caramel tart with salted almonds, accented with a drizzle of dark chocolate—complex, balanced, and just a bit indulgent.
When you hand it to him, Kaeya raises a brow, a smirk playing at his lips. "You really do know how to get my attention, don’t you?" he murmurs, bringing it up to his lips for a small, thoughtful bite.
He lets out a pleased hum, clearly savoring it. "Ah, a perfect mix of sweetness and bite. I think you’ve outdone yourself this time," he says, his voice softer than usual. "Dare I ask what inspired this masterpiece?"
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Just something… layered, with a bit of a hidden edge. Thought it suited you."
He chuckles, leaning closer. "You’re quite the charmer," he says, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "Perhaps I’ll need to return the favor someday." His words carry a promise, and you wonder just how many layers there are to him, waiting to be revealed.
The bustling bakery quieted as Sampo strolled in with his usual carefree grin, tipping an imaginary hat in your direction. "Fancy seeing you here! You got anything for a tired traveler like me?" he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.
You smirked, setting down a treat that had been prepared with him in mind. "As a matter of fact, yes. Here’s something inspired by you." you said, revealing a tart topped with fresh mint leaves, chocolate shavings, and a dusting of powdered sugar. Inside, the tart held a mix of light cream and hints of citrus—a refreshing and vibrant combination that seemed fitting.
Sampo’s eyes lit up as he leaned in, sniffing appreciatively. "Inspired by me, you say? You sure know how to charm a guy." Without hesitation, he took a large bite, savoring the blend of rich cream and zesty citrus, the mint adding a touch of surprise. He let out a satisfied hum.
"This is fantastic," he declared with a wink. "Just the right amount of sweet and a hint of bite. But are you saying I'm a little... tart?"
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Well, you do have that sharpness beneath the charm."
Sampo laughed, a genuine sound that softened his usual sharp demeanor. He took another bite, glancing up at you with a rare, thoughtful expression. "Y’know, not many people go to this much trouble for me." He leaned in, lowering his voice with that signature smirk. "Better be careful, or you’ll make me feel... special."
You felt your cheeks warm as he took another bite, clearly enjoying every bit. And in that small exchange, it was as if the tart, like Sampo himself, had revealed something sweet beneath its complex layers.
