requests: I do not accept requests. This is because I am unreliable when it comes to completing them, and I don't want to disrespect y'all's ideas by ignoring them. With that being said, if you understand it is not a guarantee and still want to shoot me an idea, feel free to ♡
SFW: I do post smut on this blog. Usually reader insert and fem!reader unless stated otherwise. It will always be under a cut and always have a "NOT sfw" tag. If you notice one of my posts missing either of these things, please let me know. I have better things to do than vet who's reading my posts, so please consume responsibly and enjoy♡
ships: I don't interact with a lot of ship content (nothing against it, I've just always been more into reader insert.) When I do it's often: scarabedo, sethoscara, kazuscara... i think you get the idea lol. oh! and cynonari<3 i love cynonari.
"kore talks": this is the tag I use to yap. feel free to mute it if you want me to Shut Up
Part 2: Away from Home (NOTsfw, wc: 4.7k; same cast)
there are other works older than this, but I'm not going to list them bc I haven't quality checked them in probably 3 years now. If you want to read them, they'll be in my genshin x reader tag.
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i love reader. idc if she’s a bimbo or a crybaby or a little unhinged. good for her tbh. i love her in all shapes and forms. she is barbie. she is a doctor and a student and a barista and she can take five dicks at the same time. what a beautiful world we live in.
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Thinking of Wanderer, who doesn't need oxygen to survive. Who doesn't know how much the average human being needs to survive. Who, when kissing you, is always alert to any signs of struggle or suffocation in fear of causing irreversible damage to your fragile human body. Who, at the beginning of your relationship, mistakes every desperate tug on his clothes as a sign of you wanting a fresh breath of oxygen away from his suffocation existence. Who, when you're panting a little too heavily, hugs you tightly and apologizes tearfully for almost killing you. Who needs time to understand that you are clinging to him because you want to be closer to him and not because you are begging for escape from him. Who eventually learns to love your breathless giggles and sweet sighs rather than despair over them. Who, by time, teaches himself how to mimic those breathless intakes of air when he picks up on how much you want to see it on him. Who instantly denies any and all teasing accusations of him faking it for your sake but would still instinctively do it for you anyways when the moment calls for it...
Thinking of Wanderer, who still doesn't know what is the right amount of oxygen for a human being to survive, but learns that the lack of it is not always a bad thing.
Hehe, I'm impressed you're still conscious. One last chance. Now... are you going to "cooperate"? Aww, cat got your tongue? Then let's play a little game.
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fandom feminism: how can i be a misogynist??? i literally made the female character a supportive woke ally queen in chapter 41 paragraph 17 of my yaoi??????
greetings and salutations! I arrive with a request: albedo x anxious and easily flustered fem reader where one day while they're talking albedo can tell that there's something on y/n's mind that she wants to tell him. Now because this something is the fact that she loves him a lot, y/n has been (metaphorically.. at least) backed into a corner and is left with no choice but to confess
a/n: I couldn't even tell you how old this ask is lol I'm so sorry anon I am very unreliable when it comes to asks which is why i stopped accepting them... but without even FURTHER ado...
pairing: albedo/reader
warnings: none <3 just tooth rotting fluff! maybe a little bit of hurt/comfort
Mentoring Sucrose meant Albedo spent no small amount of time around people who are easily flustered. In fact, after a long day of managing Klee's boundless curiosity, it was often even a welcome reprieve. He’d be silently appreciative of how carefully you handled every sample he handed you, a juxtaposition to Klee's typical overzealousness, his gaze softening when he'd notice the small tremors in your hand. Mind you, he'd never give you something he thought you could damage in the first place, but the care you treated his materials with served as extra testament to your character.
His favorite moments with you were when you'd spend quality time parallel working on your own hobbies. He'd look up from his beaker, the liquid bubbling faintly in his hand, and find himself captivated by the sight of you sitting across from him with your eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It wasn't usually like the Chief Alchemist to lose his train of thought, but he'd have to admit that he'd gotten lost in thought staring at you a few times… aaand then he'd promptly have to scramble to rescue his time-sensitive experiment.
Recently, though, he found himself ruminating over a shift in your demeanor. He's nothing if not observant, but at the same time he doesn't consider himself the most emotionally well-versed… but he had something of an internal tab of mannerisms that had dinged as odd to him that were getting increasingly harder to ignore.
For one, you averted eye contact every time he shifted his full attention toward you. This was odd because Albedo rarely did anything in half-measures and he was certain that the weight of his attention never bothered you before. He also noticed how anytime he drew near, your hands immediately started nervously twisting loose hems on your clothes, your gaze askance.
…Then there was that time Albedo had planned to accompany you on a trip down to the beach, as per your request. He had taken the day off and everything, but you cancelled last minute (albeit super apologetically, but Albedo still couldn’t help his confusion.) There was also that time you were in the foyer of the Knights' building talking to Kaeya, and Albedo approached because he's friends with both of you. That's what friends do, isn't it? Greet each other? (You have Albedo second guessing even the most fundamental rules of socializing.) Kaeya was receptive and smooth, as always, but you fell silent, staring at your feet instead of engaging in the conversation. This isn't out of character per se, he’s seen this happen in contexts with other people… but he swears you used to open up in his presence, not shut down.
Then again, the possibility is there that he might be misreading the signs. Being a renowned researcher didn't equate to being infallible. So while his analytical mind wanted to comb over the data until he reached a definite conclusion, how could he be certain these weren't just isolated incidents where your nerves were getting the better of you? That they weren't just another facet of your personality? He remembered the early days when you two were still getting acquainted, some of these characteristics remind him of that version of you... but he was also certain there was a time not so long ago where your eyes lit up at the sight of him. That image alone makes his heart sink.
Had he done something to upset you, or to make you uncomfortable? Or perhaps there was something else--someone else (that idea shot an unfamiliar pang of... something through his chest)--that was shifting the way you acted toward him? That was the risk with interpersonal relationships, he supposed. There are always so many unseen variables to account for that it's rather difficult to make a reliable hypothesis or try to predict any sort of outcome.
"Mr. Albedo?"
The Chief Alchemist didn't react, his gaze lost somewhere in the middle distance.
"Uh, Mr. Albedo...?"
The beaker in front of him foamed dangerously close to spilling over, the burette that should have been stopped minutes ago continuing to drip into it still.
"M-Mr. Albedo!" Sucrose called a third time, panic lending her voice an unusually forceful edge.
Albedo finally snapped back to reality. His hands worked quickly before his mind even truly caught up, before verbally acknowledging Sucrose, to stabilize the reaction. Sucrose stared at him owlishly as he worked, her own notes forgotten in front of her.
"I apologize." Albedo replied calmly once the threat of acid spilling all over his desk was managed. He grimaced at the beaker, knowing he overshot his goal by a longshot. He'd have to start the experiment over. "It seems my mind was elsewhere."
"Mr.Albedo… I don’t, uh, mean to sound rude anything, but you always say that--"
"That carelessness has no business in this lab." He finishes for her. He sighs as stands, brushing nonexistent dust from his clothes. He busies his hands with straightening out the papers on his desk. "I know. I don't take matters of our safety lightly. I should be leading by example. I... suppose my heart wasn't in it today."
She watches him for a moment, her expression shifting from alarm to empathy. "It might not be my place to ask, but... is everything alright, Mr. Albedo? I've never seen you so distracted before..."
Albedo's mouth quirks into a frown. His thoughts drift back to you as his hands continue idle work straightening out his tools with excessive care. Is everything alright? His mouth opens, then closes again without saying a word. He internally weighs opening up to Sucrose about his dilemma. She'd listen attentively if he did, maybe offer advice or try to console him... But he was supposed to be her mentor. Was that fair to her? Or... maybe it was the idea of deliberating over his relationship with you like it was some novel alchemical phenomena made him feel weird.
"Perhaps I just need a day's rest." He offers, the excuse sounding weak even to his own ears. He doesn't wait around to see if Sucrose will press the matter. "I'll take today off and return tomorrow to re-attempt this when my mind is clearer. Don't forget to blow out the lanterns when you're done, please."
With that, the Chief Alchemist was out the door. He couldn't waste any more time, he decided, waiting around while his relationship with you strained. His feet carried him mindlessly while his brain worked overtime to analyze the same clues over and over for something he might've missed, something he might've done or said that slipped even his attention but affected you so dearly. He was going to drive himself mad trying to figure out this problem on his own.
Albedo's expression creased further. He'd always preferred relationships with a little bit of cordial distance anyway... so why did it bother him that you were pulling away in the first place? Come to think of it, he didn't actually realize how much he looked forward to you visiting him until it stopped. Anytime the door to his office or lab would open, his heart would skip a beat as he silently hoped he'd look up to see you entering.
The sun was setting, the walls surrounding Mondstadt casting slanted shadows over the city. His feet carried him aimlessly down side alleys and various patches of public garden. His restless pace only faltered once a familiar voice reached his ears. He turned almost subconsciously. You were sitting alone at a table outside of Angel's Share, book open in your lap. You thanked Charles as he took your empty glass and replaced it with a full one in that same polite tone that had been haunting Albedo for days.
Albedo turned before he could overthink it. He walked toward you, purpose in his usually measured stride. You took a sip from the fresh glass, your gaze dropping back down to your book. You hadn't noticed him yet.
"Is this seat taken?" His tone was as gentle as it ever had been, but the look on his face was uncharacteristically distraught. You startle, nearly tipping your glass over as you went to set it down. Albedo steadies it without saying anything.
"Oh! U-uh..." Your eyes go wide as you look between Albedo and the seat across from you, your self-consciousness immediately increasing tenfold as it always seem to around him. Suddenly the outfit you had on felt clownish, and you found yourself stressing over whether you had remember to brush your teeth. "Sure! --I mean, n-no. No, it's not taken. Sure, you can sit there."
You stare down at your book, lips pressed into a thin line. Archons, why did you have to be so awkward around him?
Albedo took the seat with characteristic grace, but his gaze never left your expression. You could feel it on you almost like a physical weight. It felt like you were a rare specimen he had stumbled across with the way his gaze seemed to parse through you. You only mentally chided yourself further as your gaze stayed glued to your book like the words would morph themself into an answer before your very eyes. Is he finally confronting you about cancelling that beach trip weeks ago? You had planned to confess your feelings for him then, but the words you had written felt all wrong at the time, your brain too scattered.
"Are you upset with me?" He asks plainly.
Your gaze went wide and snapped up to meet his. Albedo felt his breath catch in his chest. When was the last time you really looked at him like this?
…Were your eyes always this pretty?
"What?" You respond in genuine surprise. Your gaze flits over his face, searching his expression desperately for some kind of context. Was this some sort of joke? Did Kaeya put him up to this? You didn't find any hint of humor in his face, though, nor any kind of malice. He looked... worried. Tired.
"Archons, n-no! Why would I be upset with you, 'Bedo?" You asked, your voice so genuinely full of concern. He almost flinched at the nickname. Maybe he had been overthinking things after all?
"I just... can't shake the feeling that you've been avoiding me." He admits, his tone soft, almost vulnerable. He looks down at his lap, his mind running through all of the reasons he had come to this conclusion in the first place. Maybe he missed something? He wasn't very good at this... relationship thing. He did know one thing for certain though, "you haven't visited me at all this week."
Archons, I sound like a child. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Did he always sound this pathetic around you? Maybe that's why you stopped spending time with him. His brain kept grasping at straws as the silence stretched, desperate for any kind of concrete answer.
You stared at him, stunned. You'd seen the alchemist face down Lawachurls with more confidence than he had right now. …He's this stressed because of me?
"'Bedo, I..." your sentence trails off as you struggled to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized—Well, I-I thought I had been pretty transparent.”
Albedo looks at you, confusion written in his features. But more than confusion, he looked desperate for you to continue explaining. What did you mean ‘transparent?’ Transparent about what? Albedo wasn’t used to being the one not understanding something in a room.
"I'm not upset with you. I... I just--um. I-I've been trying to..." The more you stumbled over your words, the more flustered you became. This isn't how this was supposed to go. Maybe you should've gone through with the beach date after all? Well, it’s useless to regret it now.
"You can be honest with me." Albedo's reassurance came almost like resignation, like he was coaxing out whatever criticism had most certainly been festering inside of you. He was no stranger to it after all, the people of Mondstadt had no shortage--about his work, about his 'flat' or 'cold' demeanor, about his existence, about his practice of the Art of Khemia. He just wished he could understand what had changed between you and him.
"Albedo." You repeated, tone soft but firm. He looked up at you and, for once, you didn't look away. A few heartbeats passed as you held each other's gaze before your eyes dropped to your lap again. You took a deep, shaky breath, "I was trying to figure how to tell you that I... I-I have feelings for you, Albedo. I… well…" Your momentary burst of confidence drained faster than anticipated.
You reached into your pocket and pull out a crumpled up note, sliding it across the table to him with a dull hiss. It was Albedo's turn to blink at you, stunned.
He looked down at the paper. With careful fingers, he unfolded it to read the words scrawled inside. His eyebrows furrowed as he read through the sweet sentences, the admissions of self-consciousness, the gratefulness for all the ways Albedo’s learned to read your timid demeanor. Albedo’s eyebrows finally shot up as he realized what this was.
This was a love letter. From you to him.
"I-I get it if you don't feel the same way. I hadn’t planned to tell you like this," you started to ramble, the pressure of the silence fraying the edges of your composure. "I just kept getting distracted when you were around, and--"
"Me, too." Albedo breathes incredulously, using the reverent tone he usually reserves for his best academic breakthroughs. The pieces finally started to click into place.
"--and I was trying to ask Kaeya for advice that one time and I made it so obvious and--" you continued, oblivious to his revelation.
That was it. He was in love with you.
His hand found yours, your nervous rambling dying down as you stare at him. "Do you mean it?"
"What?"
"That you have feelings for me?" His gaze searched yours desperately.
“I… uh…” Something in the earnestness of his gaze was disarming. “Yes, of course I mean it.”
He leaned closer, scooting his chair around the table.
"What are you doing?" You watched him with wide eyed, a flicker of both hope and fear in your chest.
His thumb stroked soothing circles into the back of your hand. He leaned a little closer, his usually cold gaze warm with emotion. "I’m sorry if this is sudden, I’m… not the best with relationships, but may I kiss you?"
Your face shifted through several emotions at once--shock, skepticism, awe--before you finally slowly nodded your head.
He leaned in, he lips finding yours tentatively. His kiss wasn't all consuming or demanding, nor was it filled with fiery passion… rather, it held the patience that he’s cultivated through years of meticulous research. He eased you into slowly. His kiss was exploratory, reactive. Attuning itself to you. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours gently.
"I love you, too.” He breathes. Your eyes fly open—love?! But Albedo’s eyes remained closed, and his hand cradled the back of your head like you were the only thing anchoring him to the real world.
summary: how they get their love to finally get some rest. (or in some scenarios, keep it) that's it. have a good night :-)
characters: alhaitham, wanderer, albedo
warnings: technically drugging on albedos part, wanderer can technically sleep in this one (doesnt need it tho + this is barely mentioned). wanderer is referred as kuni by reader.
a/n: yes im aware the title is cringe no im not changing it fuck you
more rapid fire a/n:
-i saw one of my fics on a tag i searched up and oml i never want to see it again
-i love fics that involve sleep like i squeal with joy whenever an mc falls asleep on someones shoulder THATS PEAK RIGHT THERE
-for alhaithams part when it came to the actual book i just started saying random shit that comes up in my language textbooks no its not consistent no i dont give a fuck
-anyways happy pride month
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
alhaitham
There were exactly three hundred and forty-two pages in the latest Haravatat textbook on ancient script, and Alhaitham fully intended to read every single one aloud until you stopped tossing and turning. It had become a habit you two participated in whenever you struggled to sleep.
The lights were low and dim in the bedroom you both shared. Alhaitham was sitting up against the bed frame, reading aloud the book he held in his right hand. The other was busied stroking your hair when you finally stilled for a minute. (Before eventually switching positions again).
"You've rolled over four times in the last ten minutes," Alhaitham stated, not looking up from the book, instead searching for your hair once again. He paused before continuing. "Statistically speaking, whatever sleeping position you are looking for does not exist."
The Scribe was not known for his bedside manner, but there was an undeniable comfort in the sheer, immovable presence of him by your side while the rest of Sumeru slept under the canopy of the starry sky.
You let out a muffled groan into your pillow, surrendering to the exhaustion and settling flat on your stomach. "It's not my fault," you mumbled into the silk pillowcase, your voice heavy but your mind stubbornly awake. "My brain won't shut off."
Alhaitham let out a quiet, dismissive hum. His slightly calloused fingers found their way back to your scalp, the rhythmic, methodical motion working in tandem with the steadiness of his breathing. "Then perhaps stop trying to shut it off and focus on the text. Section four: The structural divergence of ancient dialects."
He didn't wait for your agreement or an argument before resuming. To anyone else in the Akademiya, the sheer density of the material would be agonizing. However, for you, it was the perfect anchor for rest. He didn't try to make the textbook sound thrilling. He simply read, his voice e acting as a low, rumbling vibration that seemed to settle right into your bones.
You closed your eyes, focusing solely on the gentle pressure of his hand and his even voice reading out the dense material. The dim, yellow glow of the lamp on the nightstand cast long shadows across the walls, like a nightlight from when you were a child.
"Your breathing has finally evened out," he quietly observed several minutes later, his voice dropping so as not to break the quiet atmosphere. The heavy rustle of turning pages filled the brief silence between his words. "A vast improvement. Keep your eyes closed. I am not repeating the paragraph on consonant shifts if you missed it."
A faint smile ghosted across your lips. You didn't have the energy to formulate a witty reply, and you somehow knew he didn't expect one. The dense, intellectual words soon began to blur together into a meaningless, comforting drone, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless sleep--quietly guarded by the scribe who refused to put his book down until he was absolutely certain you were resting.
wanderer
Wanderer crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of your open window sill with a look of profound annoyance. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of his face, casting a pale glow over his dark hair. The breeze ran across him and into your room.
"If you roll over one more time, I'm tossing you out the window" he threatened, his voice a sharp whisper that cut through the quiet room. You weren't surprised by his appearance. You often left the window open for him, considering how frequent his nighttime visits are. He continued. "Humans are ridiculously inefficient. Why is it so difficult for your little brain to simply cease functioning for just eight hours?"
You peered out from beneath your heavy blanket, too exhausted to even properly glare at him. "It's called insomnia, Kuni. Some of us don't have the luxury of being a puppet."
He let out a sharp scoff, stepping away from the window and approaching the side of your bed. "Excuses."
Despite his harsh words, he slid onto the edge of the mattress, the dark fabric of his clothes rustling in the quiet room. He reached out, his hand hovering over the edge of your blanket for a fraction of a second before he roughly yanked it up to your chin, tucking you in with an unnececessary amount of force.
"Now stay still," he muttered with a hint of exasperation, though his fingers lingered slightly on the fabric near your shoulder.
The room was stiflingly warm, the stagnant air making your restlessness even worse. You let out a frustrated sigh, trying to kick the blanket off your feet, but Wanderer stopped you with a firm hand on your leg.
"Don't start," he warned. But then, his eyes softened just a fraction. He closed his eyes for a moment, and a sudden, gentle breeze materialized out of nowhere, swirling softly through the bedroom. It wasn't the freezing wind of a storm, but a perfectly chilled Anemo draft that broke the stuffy heat of the room. It carried the faint, clean scent of crushed leaves.
"Better?"
albedo
The soft, rhythmic scratching of graphite against textured paper was the only sound filling the dim room. Albedo sat a few feet from your bed, a small sketchbook propped in his lap, his pale blue eyes darting between the page and your restless form.
"Still awake?" he asked, his voice a low, soothing cadence that felt like a quiet melody in the midnight silence.
You let out a tired sigh, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "I can't seem to turn my thoughts off tonight. I'm sorry if I'm distracting you from your work."
Albedo paused, lowering his pencil. A gentle, reassuring smile touched his lips. "Never. In fact, you are providing a rather fascinating study. The human mind is incredibly complex, but even the most hyperactive thoughts must eventually succumb to fatigue. We simply need to encourage the process."
He set his sketchbook aside on the nearby desk, stepping quietly over the wooden floorboards. When he sat on the edge of your mattress, the bed barely dipped beneath his light frame. He reached out, his hand surprisingly warm as his fingertips brushed a stray lock of hair away from your forehead.
"Your temperature is elevated, and your breathing is shallow," he noted softly, his thumb tracing a comforting circle against your temple. "You are fighting against your own exhaustion."
Before you could apologize again, Albedo reached into his coat and produced a small, amber glass vial. He uncorked it with a quiet pop, and the immediate, soothing scent of crushed Cecilia petals and sweet Starconch oil drifted through the air.
"A mild alchemical blend," he explained, placing the open vial on the nightstand. "Formulated specifically to calm an overactive nervous system. Essentially a relaxer. Now, close your eyes. Focus only on the fragrance, and the sound of my voice."
As you finally let your eyelids flutter shut, you felt the gentle pressure of his hand returning to your hair, weaving through the strands with a steady, hypnotic rhythm that made your thoughts feel heavier and heavier by the second.
You heard a seemingly distant sound of graphite against paper as you fell into slumber.
As he occasionally did when you slept, he began to sketch out the rough details of your unconscious form.
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