Albedo is guilty, but it's justified, and there was a really good reason (maybe it was under orders from rhinedottir?)
Ifa will heal Neuvillette (they kept talking about ifa being able to heal other dragons during the live, so it seems a little obvious (unless that was a red herring))
Potential Istaroth lore drop?
5.7 will be windblume with Dornman Port Mondstadt extension (manifesting 🙏🙏🙏)
Fakebedo lore
Omg, what if Fakebedo is the person Albedo killed, and he had to dispose of the body in a way it couldn't be revived, hence improper disposal of human bodies?!!
Dainsleif will make an appearance
Traveller will discover incriminating evidence in Albedo's office (also, why aren't people more hyped about Knights of Favonius HQ second floor reveal???) But will also realise he killed Fakebedo and will hide/destroy the evidence so Albedo will be ruled innocent
Kaeya and/or Venti will know about the hidden/destroyed evidence
so i finished the paralogism quest recently and . a few thoughts
1. rhinedottir and all her creations are #officially considered family by albedo, great news for the rhinedottir fucked up family enjoyers(me)(this may have already been stated before by him idk the confirmation made me happy)
2. i played it with a friend and we just. albedo gave birth you guys im so proud of him. big win for the. asexual reproducers . ig. reading his lines outloud we made most of the talk abt alchemy and "getting a life" and such about giving birth. sorry.
3. timeaus and sucrose noticing the alchemy bs made me happy
4. "almost like this festival was made for me..." shut up venti/lh
5. albedo walks into the church. he asks barbara for some child-sized clothes, she asks if its for klee, did she burn hers too much? albedo says they arent for klee, specifies boys clothes. barbara pauses. delilah is probably sitting with a confused-but-hiding-it rosaria a few pews away, watching. barbara returns with baby clothes, to which albedo reframes, giving approximate measurements, "...so no, bigger." he is being unhelpful. barbara sighs with relief as she gets little boy sized clothes.
5a. does the average mondstadt citizen think that klee is albedos weird adopted kid? teen preggo baby? i imagine they're face shapes are like, almost exact replicas of their moms. so they only both have blond hair, what does the average person think of this. cuz albedo is clearly klees primary caretaker. i am so curious now. is barbara worrying that hes randomly adopted another small child? cus i read short male as like. kinda young adult looking or teenager.
6. albedo saying naberius made rhinedottir less prone to madness??? d. has toxic yuri really fixed her?????!
7. still sad at the lack of wanderer appearence when mini durin appears next scara better be there. albedo cant raise his weird brother-son thing all on his own!!!! i know we're all tired of wanderer but he needs to be a better momther than raiden ei. and this can be ship or not thats just the kid they kinda have together. has anyone told wanderer abt any of this i need to know. 6 months in planning......
and 8. i still think albedo being all "subject two was never real. not murder if its not alive" is biased narrative. subject two is real TO ME and i think albedo needs therapy. but sodoes his mom and she. ate a god? so. yknow
honestly, if i killed my older sibling who was a prototype of myself, and he tried to take my place, and we were both so sure the other had to die, that we never even thought of otherwise? of living as siblings? and then i had to bring back my OLDER brother who was fed said older sibling by our mother, back to life? fusing two entities of were both said older brother but also a younger brother? and then had to talk to the person i trust enough i asked them to kill me if they had to? fuck dude. how did he feel when subject 2 came back in anothers form. do you think there was jealousy, if only for a moment? do you think he cried
I want to talk about Albedo and Subject Two. I like one and dislike the other, lol, but that's the beauty of this drama.
Yeah, I don't like Albedo, but I don't mind if others like him, because that's what it means to have your own tastes, lol. I only care about my opinion here and now, not anyone else's, so this isn't about trashing him. My topic is Subject Two's death and the implications of that event. Albedo clearly said, "I didn't kill a _human_," even though they're literally almost the same thing, and I think that says a lot about Albedo as a character. He's started talking a lot about his species and how unique he is, and it would be strange to deny his interest in that topic.
Now I'm going to stop being polite and avoiding harsh criticism and say that, before my very eyes, Albedo has transformed from a timid young nerd into an arrogant psychopath who views life through inhuman standards, despite being convinced that he himself is human. The way he views Durin's creation and existence as just another experiment, the way he views the world, makes him a truly deranged scientist. But that doesn't mean it makes him any less of a character, lol, a _character_, even if as a _human_ he's terrible. Actually, I like this real touching on gray morality this time and it’s important, because in Genshin they like to whitewash such ambiguous personalities (but this is not even so much a problem of the Hoyo themselves, because they are afraid to make someone a little more evil, because the fandom will react very violently and indignantly in any case. Now the relationships between the Harbingers are reduced to sugar, their past is retconned, moments of their “badness” are removed, so that they are simply misunderstood and innocent. But there is a real difference between “gray moral characters who can do both evil and good, who can treat subordinates, enemies, even colleagues terribly, but at the same time can still treat someone well” and “everything they do was of a good nature, and their dark side is only that they are on the side of an incomprehensible organization.” So in fact, it is so logical and natural that the creation of a great sinner, a scientist without any particular moral principles, starts behaving in a similar way? It's just that if we say, "Rhein is so cool, she's a scientist with shady principles, and Albedo is also cool with his potential, he said he could destroy Mond," then perhaps we shouldn't be surprised that from time to time these traits actually manifest themselves — unpleasant traits. Albedo is quite unpleasant. And here I want to quote words that are not mine (!) (I can't say it better myself, lol, but if you suddenly see it and don't like it, I'll of course remove it), but describe it very clearly:
"Albedo and Dottore may be similar, but unlike Dottore, Albedo doesn't show it until later. Dottore immediately makes it clear he doesn't give a shit about people, that he puts himself above all else and considers himself the center of the universe. Albedo seems like a normal guy, kind and positive, until you question the exceptional nature of his position. He'd never have bothered with Durin if the only thing at stake was Mond's safety. The entire arc on the Dragonspine is that his status as a perfect creation, the only experience in the series allowed to survive by Rhein, was challenged. That's why he's been sharpening knives all this time. You bitch, you dare create DOUBLES! Now you'll get it, a fucking dragon flop. And from that perspective, his revenge is twisted— _he replaced Durin with his best double_. Dottore saws himself into pieces, multiplies, he doesn’t give a damn, Albedo needs to be great and unique."
Well, yeah. I just don't understand the point of turning characters originally created for gray morality, who are literally "scientists who transcend reality," "creatures with their own vision of the world," into just a nice guy... just a good older brother for Klee... just someone everyone likes because he's so polite and courteous — he'd deliberately lull you into not thinking too much about his experiments in a closed lab, because his goal is to imitate the ideal person — to imitate, but he doesn't fully embody that. I don't buy all these cutesy family headcanons
(Also, these ideas about Albedo having to kill the Subject and even feeling sad about it. The leitmotif of this story is "I didn't kill a human")
these headcanons about Albedo, Durin, Subject Two, because their canonical relationship isn't about that at all. Yes, they are a family of sorts, but not an idealized one, dysfunctional, everyone pulling in their own direction, everyone resentful of something. This entire trio is literally squabbling over the right to exist here and now as a "good, cool human person," so Subject Two is jealous and mimics! That's why Durin tries "not to be like that evil dragon" to fit in! That's why Albedo doesn't call any of them "relatives," and even says about Subject Two that he's _not human_. I can't perceive this as some kind of special level of tsundere or misunderstanding that can be easily resolved with some conversation, and Albedo suddenly begins to see a _relative_ in an _object_, a reject of the system. "I am a special representative of my kind, and this uniqueness lies in the fact that I am one of a kind." I don't care what he added after that. Some say he cleanly solved the problem of the original Durin by fusing him with a toy one, because that's the easiest way. Well, that's not important. I just said all this to say it, because these are my thoughts, so don't argue with me if you're a fan of the good Albedo and the warm family relations between them all — I didn't say this to _prove_ anyone that they're wrong, but just for my own pleasure. As if one statement from me will immediately change the entire climate of the fandom, it's ridiculous, and that's the point, no, so what difference does it make who says what?
Leading up to Subject two, his story simply seems so tragic, and his very existence actually reveals the relationships between the Rheindottir creatures. I always prefer the "unlucky twin," lol. He'll survive and begin Klee's arc of realization 🙌🏻 "Why do you look like Albedo and what does it mean that you hate each other?"
“have you ever tried to create life from nothing?”
for a woman of science, rhinedottir was acting rather scatterbrained, frantically pulling bottles from shelves. each of them was twisted, and eventually returned to their place, the small plate above them marked with red.
“to sprout a seed with no water, to make a flower bloom within your hand?” it was a wonder she was still talking to him, crazed eyes always searching for his. did she think he’d run off? it wasn’t as if he could, with the doors bolted shut. “impossible. impossible. the slightest of changes in the ley lines ruins everything- have not one of these survived?”
that was new. he’d thought the lab was low enough no elements flowed, or at the very least the rest of the city blocked it. that’s what he’d always believed, as it was the only solution for his failure.
or was it him that was the problem? he didn’t know. he may have been her first success, but he was also her first failure.
bottles stopped returning to shelves, glass shattering on the floor and sending thick sludge all over the floor. fragile bones cracked on impact, half formed bodies crumpling with splats that made him cringe.
it wasn’t rare to see her so angry, but it was rare for her to take it out on her work. still, he did his best to ignore her, bringing his legs onto his chair and twiddling a pen between his fingers. it didn’t make it easier to block out the sound, but he did feel better when he could focus on tracing a square over and over, trying to keep the lines as thin as possible.
“stupid, stupid stupid stupid! i told them this would be revolutionary, but all they think about is their god-“ their what? “-and they don’t even try to listen to me! of course they didn’t, because what do i know? i’m only the-… the…”
he did look up, then, seeing her staring at a bright bottle. at least a hundred shattered bottles lay at her feet, yet she didn’t seem to notice, transfixed by the single flask in her hand.
“the greatest alchemist in the world,” she whispered.
all at once, she turned to him, boots crunching over flesh and bone as if it were nothing. he winced back slightly when the squish of her boot made some of the sludge splash up, landing halfway up the leg of his chair.
“look.” he didn’t want to. her eyes were wide and crazed and he was terrified. the bottle itself was harmless, the organism inside curled underneath and far from consciousness, but she.. “he lived.”
he gripped his pen tightly, forcing a nod.
“he’ll be perfect.” that’s unrealistic. “i just know it. look at him.” you’re being irrational. “he needs a name.” you don’t even know if he’ll survive.
she walked away and began to pace, seemingly not noticing the tens of half-formed corpses beneath her feet. “a name, a name…”
what a sight. for someone so set on creating life, she disrespected so many.
he looked back down to his paper, continuing his exercises. around the square, then the other way, then the hexagon. the lines grew thicker as the amount of sides increased, his pen slipping on the page. still, he kept his hand as steady as possible, breathing slowly. he could just ignore her. it’s not like she’d ask for his input, so he can just focus on the shapes, keeping each angle as sharp-
“hey!” his pen slipped as his shoulders jumped, dark ink soaking through the page. he turned, and found her frowning at him, bottle clutched in her hand. “pay attention. this could be groundbreaking; whatever you’re doing doesn’t matter in the face of perfect alchemy.”
he was doing as he was told. practicing his lines, slowly taming the tremors in his hands, stopping every half hour to train with the ball she’d given him for that exact purpose. ten squeezes with one hand, ten with the other, ten between the palms, and a quick massage of the muscles. as he was asked.
“i’ve decided on a name, if you care.” she turned back to the bottle, all traces of anger dissipating. she smiled at the bottle, carefully twisting it in her hands. “he will be nigredo.. the first stage of my magnum opus.”
his eyes flicked to the bottle, a small ember of resentment burning in his chest.
“as you wish, master.”
‘nigredo’ didn’t last long. within a month or so, his bottle blackened, eventually cracking altogether. he was there when she came back, finding the bottle leaking on her desk. she’d panicked, frightened, her concern eventually bubbling into anger.
the bottle had hit the wall just beside his head. something soft trickled down his cheek, landing on his paper. he lifted his hand, feeling dust fall from a small slit in his skin. he looked over to rhinedottir in shock, but she wasn’t looking. she was pacing angrily, glaring at the paperwork on the desks around her like it would be the next thing thrown. he didn’t want to bother her, he didn’t, but whatever sand was pouring through his skin was making him panic.
a breath in, a breath out. she didn’t seem any less upset than the last time he looked.
“..master?”
his hands flinched tighter when she whipped to look at him, his pen skidding across the page again.
“what?”
“my.. my cheek.” he took his hand away from it, but the dust continued to fall. “the bottle hit me.”
she stared, confused. “what bottle?”
“nigredo’s.” his chest burned, bitter, but he pushed aside his feelings. “i.. don’t believe this is normal, is it?”
another stretch of silence, her eyes flicking between his and the wound on his cheek.
“why would i do that?”
“i’m not suggesting you’d hit me on purpose-“
“why would i throw him? no, i.. i was going to fix him. i wouldn’t do that.”
it was his turn to stare, shocked. “but… you did.”
the dust hitting his page was the only sound in the room, neither of them moving.
“don’t be ridiculous,” she eventually said. “i wouldn’t hurt him like that. i have no reason. why would i waste so much of my time like that? all my effort into imitating the div-….”
“…you were angry. people say and do uninthings when they’re-“
“and what would you know about people?”
that was cruel.
his synthetic heart beat in his ribs like it wanted to flee, the dust continuing to pour from his skin in a stark reminder of his inhumanity.
“…master-“
“i’m leaving. i expect this place to be clean when i come back.”
he didn’t even flinch when she slammed the door. such things were regular occurrences.
“…what’s this, master?”
“he has a name. durin.”
another one with a name. when would he earn his?
“i see. my apologies.”
“whatever. go say hello.”
“pardon?”
“you heard me.”
sand was still trickling from his cheek, a brief wave coming quicker when he frowned. “master, i don’t think-“
“he doesn’t bite, it’s fine.”
and to her credit, he hadn’t.
(“rhinedottir! what have you done?”)
(“i’ve done many things. could you clarify?”)
(“w-what’s this?” his body was dead, but he still felt the way durin grumbled and hissed. “what have you made? we’re willing to look past a lot of your experiments, but this-!”
(“watch your tone. he’s perfect.”)
(“rhine-“)
(“why can’t you all just trust me? you act like i’m touting myself around like a god-“)
(“you are. your hubris will get you killed-“)
(“by who? what? who’ll dare to touch me? …nobody. exactly. nobody, not even that thing in the sky that calls itself the creator.”)
(“rhine-!”)
(“no. get out. you’re disrupting my work.”)
(“you know how celestia is, they’ve already started approaching the gates-“)
(“then let them come. you’ve seen my work. we’ll survive the battle.”)
(“what of the innocents? what of the kids and the elderly, those that did nothing wrong? do they deserve to die for you?”)
(“…if i deserve to die, then nobody deserves to live.”)
in his opinion, there’s only one thing worse than dying: figuring out you hadn’t.
the constant beat of a dragon’s heart had finally dulled, and with it his uncertain stasis ended. he was brought back to life, surrounded by bones that weren’t his, unsure which way was up.
the bones were tough to break, but a small sliver off the end made it easier to cut through flesh. he didn’t know why he was alive, or how, all he knew was the red blood oozing around his hands and a drive in his chest that told him to survive. his skin was hot, his clothes clinging to him and adding to the feeling of being trapped, the sludge around him unrelenting in its quest to keep him there, inside, stuck in the chest of this beast-
the air was cold. his heart was colder. the ground was hard where he fell, humming with energy from the core he just escaped. he looked up at the heart, his own beating frantically, and watched the space that he had carved for himself seal up, as if he was never there to begin with. the blood and flesh left on his clothes—he was still wearing the same thing from that day, torn and flimsy—soaked into the ground, making the earth burn a vibrant red.
durin had died too, just as nigredo had. he was the only one left. the only one left of rhinedottir’s creations, accused of killing the first and nearly dying to the second.
or…
well, he certainly wouldn’t be surprised if she’d kept her other projects quiet. he was hardly allowed to leave the lab, let alone the palace, so who knew what she was up to? it could be any number of things, knowing her.
he pushed himself up on shaky limbs, uncharacteristic anger fueling his thoughts. he never hated rhinedottir before, but now that he was betrayed, what point did he have to try and care for her? she never gave him her love, so why did she deserve his?
with a hand on the wall—flesh melded into stone, he didn’t think about how long durin had been sitting here lest he be paralyzed by time—he began to stumble toward the exit of the cave, his legs stiff. he felt like when he was first created, shaking and confused, except now he knew that he was weak due to muscle atrophy and not his nerves struggling to fire.
(“there you are,” she had smiled. “let me help you down, i’m sure it’ll be hard on your own.”)
(it was. he clung to her as his lifeline, hands shaking and knees wobbling. the room was bright, loud, his mind pinging from object to object as he reached for anything he recognized. how strange, to be formed fully conscious and yet without any knowledge of the world around you. no words to describe the softness of the cot she sat him on, no name for her eyes as she gently picked up his hand, tracing the tremors.)
(“are you scared?” he didn’t know what that was. the lab was confusing, emotions he didn’t know how to handle bubbling and overflowing. “i’ll take care of you, it’s okay.” a hand to her chest, a soft call of her name, the first word he ever knew one that belonged to her.)
(he’d done his best to learn to say it, but he was imperfect. his hands quaked, his tongue was stiff, and by the time he’d managed to say it in full she had corrected him to ‘master.’ he only learned the concept of time when he was told he was using too much of hers, sequestered to a corner of the room where she didn’t have to look at him.)
(maybe that was why he wasn’t given a name. why would he have one when he couldn’t even recite it?)
with a shake of his head the memory was cleared, mind once again centered on the cave. perhaps he should sit, try to clear the fog over his head… the air was getting colder the further he went from the heart, white dust flickering in the air. ash? no, too bright…
he lowered himself to the ground carefully, leaning against stone. already he was tired, and he’d barely made it halfway out. how long was he… not asleep, perhaps unconscious? he didn’t know.
something was—howling? calling? what was the word? was all that time spent with a dictionary was for naught?—loud, crying out and filling the whole cave. maybe whatever was moving the white… what was it? it looked soft where it piled on the ground, yet to survive in the cold air… all of it melted before it reached him, but he wanted to know what it was.
(curiosity.)
the ground was rocky, but he had plenty of practice in pulling himself where his legs could not take him. across the lab, into a chair, to the shelf when his master was too busy to get it herself. he guided himself around a sharp stone, stopping a few inches away from the substance. already some of it was beginning to land on his clothes, settling into the creases as he pulled his legs up to his side to sit more comfortably. he lifted his hand, watching as a few of the particles landed in his palm. they were small, details too fine for him to fully pick out. they melted slowly in his hand, fading away, but many more soon took their place. they were cold, but he hardly felt the chill anymore, transfixed by the sight. they had to have a name, right? something soft, to adequately describe the gentle fall when they weren’t whipped around by whatever force lay outside the cave, had to…
“have you never seen snow before?”
snow. snow. ah, that was a nice word for it.
“i haven’t.”
he looks up, finally, and sees another man standing there. he has light hair and a blue shirt, a white lab coat overtop. an odd orange crystal sits at his collar, just below a diamond shaped mark on his skin in the same color.
“who are you?”
they both ask the question at the same time, and he’s surprised by how hollow he feels when asked. he doesn’t have a name, not even a designation or title. anger began to spark in him again, but was cut short by the other man putting a hand to his chest.
“i am the chief alchemist of the knights of favonius, here to determine any changes resulting from the uncharacteristic ley line activity recently.” an alchemist… his master was an alchemist, wasn’t she? was she still alive? maybe she knew this man- could he see her again? would she remember? maybe him being eaten by durin was a fluke, maybe she’d say sorry and maybe his survival was enough proof of his worth that he’d get what he’d longed for for so long.
“my name is albedo. what is yours?”
the world stopped turning. the snow stopped falling. everything froze, his world sharpening to a pin, his breath pausing as he looked into the eyes of the man with a name.
the creation with a name. albedo.
“…her magnum opus.”
albedo blinked, but didn’t seem all that surprised. “so you are another of master’s students.”
‘student.’ he was lucky she afforded him a spare pen, but he was taught?
(what did he know? he wanted to know too. what did his master do? what else was there to learn? how many books of knowledge existed beyond the four walls he’d grown to hate? could he finally put the sights to the names? what was the sun and how did it rise, what was a day and how did it end, what was the world and how did it work?)
(curiosity.)
“how interesting. she told me of a few trials before me, but i didn’t expect you to be-“
“were you created too?”
say no. say no and tell him he wasn’t the only one. say no and say it wasn’t his fault. say no and say he wasn’t a failure.
“…yes. i was.”
anger was bubbling and beginning to rise, irrational and yet uncontrollable. he shouldn’t be angry at albedo, he’d done nothing wrong, but his heart refused to obey.
“did she speak of me?”
“i don’t know. she spoke about durin, sometimes, and mentioned one of my predecessors. are you nigredo?”
nigredo died. nigredo died, and yet he was worth more of her time.
how?
what made him so imperfect? what was wrong with him being a first attempt? that didn’t mean failed. first didn’t mean failed, it meant first.
he was the first. had she not completed what she set out to do? synthetic life, an abiotic creation, proof of her knowledge and ability, proof it could be done at all. what part of him made him so inherently worthless? why did she want perfection? why couldn’t he be perfection?
albedo walked closer, more details coming into focus. the buckles on his coat—not a lab coat, then, or perhaps an altered one?—and the lines on his boots clear enough he could see them. when he crouched in front of him, he could see the gem on his collar sway slightly, the spikes on its inlay now visible. he leaned away, one hand tightening into a fist where he’d set it in the snow, the cold sinking into his palm. it rushed up his arm and into his chest, settling right next to the burn of his anger.
“when did you get your name?”
“when i was first able to ask for it.” albedo took his hand despite how he tried to pull it away, easily overpowering him. “interesting. you don’t appear to have any body heat of your own, and yet are shivering.”
(anger.)
“are you scared?”
(rage.)
“has she sent you? is that why you’re here?”
“not at all.” he let his hand fall, idly swiping a bit of snow from his shirt. his hand was warm. “i came here to inspect durin’s heart. did you come from there?”
(righteous fury.)
the snow in his hand packed together, the swirl of flaming anger and frigid resentment making his chest heaven as he took in air he didn’t need.
“i was eaten by him.”
“you survived being eaten by a dragon? a commendable feat. did you dig your way out?”
with hands that shook and eyes that couldn’t cry, supported on weakened legs and with bones barely able to keep me up. were you fed as often as i was? you look much less wiry.
“is that why your hands are shaky? perhaps i should take you to my lab…”
yes, the lab, take me there and fix everything that’s wrong with me, give me writing exercises and assure me it’ll pass, that i’m something broken, that you know better, that i was never and would never be what you wanted or strived for. tell me often enough and i’ll believe it, i’ll believe you when you say i’m wrong, believe you when you say it won’t hurt, believe you when you promised it would be okay, for you were the master and i were the slave-
a string that wasn’t his snapped, another’s anger channeled through him. all he could see was red, a chalk heart in his ears demanding he hit before it was returned. who, he didn’t know, nor why, a torrent of thoughts released through him, years of anger melting the ice around them.
albedo didn’t deserve his anger, not really. but his master did, and he was the closest thing.
No thoughts head empty only rubedo and reader living that ✨cottagecore✨ life away from the cult like I've read in some sagau fics-- which leads to incidents like these happening:
Y'all should make sure to plug yall noses or Rubedo will be worried sick 👃 cuz that won't be the last time something like this will happen
