#embracing my fate of creating for tiny fandoms only forever

[rainbow-nijisaki]

Runey Factor 5'd some studies!

[shima-draws]

Senyuu! Please i will love you forever!

Send me a fandom/ship/prompt and I’ll write a drabble for it!

You got it, anon!! I finally finished this I’m ajsfnaj

Anyway since there wasn’t any prompt/ship request I just went ahead and chose my own :’) So it’s an Albatross Soulmate AU oneshot since I’m a sucker for both

I also posted it on Archive if you’d rather read it there!

Just be warned there’s a mention of character death (Alba’s) but it’s very glossed over!! ALSO there’s a lot, a LOT of fluff. Lots. It’ll rot your teeth. Ros kisses Alba like fifty times and it’s great

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Shion had never really believed in the solidarity of soulmates.

While growing up, he’d silently trace fingers over the blank space on his wrist, feeling a sense of emptiness. It was common for people to be born without soulmates and later on wake up one day to find a name written on their wrist. But five years passed, then ten, and by fifteen he gave up all hope that there was somebody meant for him and him alone. Which was fine. Crea was in the same boat, his wrist being a blank slate for even longer than Shion. It was extremely rare for people to go this long without getting their soulmate’s name—Shion wasn’t sure if he and Crea were lucky or unlucky to know each other, two lost souls without a person to call their own. So they confided in each other, then, since Rchimedes would always clam up and go silent at the mention of soulmates.

Shion would often catch his father looking at his own wrist, his expression dark and sad. The name Cecily was painted in a strange red color, one he’d never seen before.

It seemed that both he and his father were cursed in the soulmate department—for normal people with their soulmate’s names on their wrist were depicted in two colors. White symbolized that their soulmate was alive and breathing. Black, well…

Black essentially meant death. A devastating thing, to watch the name of one’s soulmate turn as black as night.

But Shion’s wrist was neither white nor black, just blank, so he could never tell the status of his soulmate or whether they were even destined to exist at all. And he couldn’t even begin to wonder what Rchimedes’ red color signified.

It wasn’t until he finally broke free of the dimensional rift that he understood.

Time passes quickly outside of the rift, and before he knew it a thousand years had gone by while he’d been in slumber. When he woke up, dazed, on the edge of the desert, he moved to rub at his temples—and then he saw it.

A name was written, in hasty but somewhat elegant writing, on the inside of his wrist. Alba was a beautiful white color, nearly blending in with the paleness of his skin. He had to blink and rub his eyes a couple times just to make sure it was real. His soulmate was alive? No, no, of course, it all made sense—he was destined to meet them all along, just not in his own time. Here, a millennia later, his wrist was telling him all he needed to know: his soulmate was here, somewhere, and he was sure that they had a fancy scrawl of Shion on their own wrist. He wondered if his name was invisible as well, but now it appeared white, just as Alba’s name did.

Imagine his shock when he ran into Alba minutes later, on the run from a tornado, no less. Trust his soulmate to get into the worst of trouble right off the bat.

Shion was enamored by him. He was a short kid, with sparkling hazel eyes too full of innocence, and a fashion sense that could be called laughable. Even so, he was brave, willing to put himself at risk even if it meant death. His reckless streak gave Shion a near heart attack on too many occasions. Not to mention he was weak. Having courage didn’t count for much if he didn’t have the physical strength to back it up, so Shion pushed him and pushed him, trying to help him become stronger.

He didn’t tell Alba that he was his soulmate. Not right away, at least. Going by the name “Ros” helped him avoid any questions about his status as Creasion and also allowed him to stay near Alba without putting him in danger. If people knew who he really was (well, the demons, to be more precise), they’d definitely come after him, and he didn’t want to get Alba caught up in that, no matter what.

But, inevitably, it happened anyway.

After Dezember’s attack, Shion watched in sheer horror as the name on his wrist suddenly blotted, like ink was being spilled all over it. The pretty white letters darkened and dimmed until they stood out, a stark contrast to his pale skin, in the deepest black color he’d ever seen. The color of despair. Of loneliness, of loss.

Foyfoy shook him and shook him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the obsidian letters. Alba. He felt like he was going to be sick.

But he knew that if he didn’t do something, then the name Foyfoy on Hime’s wrist would turn black as well.

It was a last second decision, really. Foyfoy landed on the ground in a heap, and Alba sat up like a rocket, eyes wide. The black letters seemed to disintegrate into tiny particles, leaving the name pure and white again. Shion could feel his entire body being flooded with warmth, as if Alba’s life force was pouring into him, and the earlier devastation was being chased away by his sunshine.

He didn’t get a lot of time to enjoy their reunion or the fact that Alba was alive, because Rchimedes needed to be sealed again at any cost, or else he’d wreck havoc on the world. At least, more than he already had by the indirect influence of the demons he created.

Shion knew that if he sealed himself away once more, this would probably be the last time he’d ever see Alba. If a thousand years slipped past once again, his soulmate would be forever lost to time. The mere thought of it left him dizzy and weak. Even so, he gave his best words of encouragement, a gentle nudge reminding his hero to keep moving forward.

Leaving Alba behind was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Seeing those pretty brown eyes full of desperation and fear at his declaration of returning to the rift made his heart twist painfully in his chest and his stomach turn upside-down. But for the sake of the world, and for Alba, he had to make some sacrifices. Even if those sacrifices meant he couldn’t achieve a happy ending with the person he treasured the most. If it meant protecting Alba from another terrible fate, this time at the hands of his father, he’d do it. He never wanted to see his skin turn dark as night ever again, under any circumstances.

So he said goodbye.

After that, it’s all a rush. Janua’s there and then he’s not, it’s this strange tan-skinned boy with sharp violet eyes, who turns into Crea and shakes Shion up so badly he can’t even breathe. Rchimedes charges in and Shion hits him so hard with sealing magic that both of them see stars. When he looks up again the sky is blue and he’s surrounded by a grove of trees, breathing in the fresh air.

His heart leaps up to his throat, wondering how much time has passed outside in the real world. He’s terrified to look down at the name on his wrist, not wanting to see it be any other color than—

Alba is still the color of freshly fallen snow, and he breathes a sigh of relief, gently pressing his thumb into the letters. But that still doesn’t guarantee Alba will live for much longer—Shion can’t gauge how much time has gone by. Maybe it’s only been a few months. Or perhaps it’s been years and years, and Alba is lying on his deathbed somewhere, still waiting.

Nevertheless, Shion can’t find him just by standing around. Before long he winds up in the middle of some grand tournament with an arm full of apples, eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces.

Shion has never believed in the solidarity of soulmates. But fate is sometimes kind, and it leads him right to the person he’s looking for.

When he comes face to face with Alba once more, he can immediately tell that the boy has changed. No longer is he a baby-faced failure, but standing before him is an actual hero brimming with confidence and strength. Shion can hardly believe that he’s the same person. He looks…different. Older, wiser, more mature. And taller, too—they’re nearly the same height now. That sort of ticks him off.

Alba’s face immediately morphs into one full of tears, his bottom lip trembling and hazel eyes shimmering in the sunlight. Okay, maybe he hasn’t changed entirely, after all.

“You’re here,” he chokes, swallowing down his sobs. “You’re really here. Shion.”

Shion inhales sharply, feeling his own eyes begin to water. So, Alba’s finally figured it out, huh…? Took him long enough. For a self-proclaimed hero, he can be pretty dense.

“It was you all along,” Alba continues, wiping away tears with his sleeve. “You knew the entire time, and you didn’t say a damn thing—”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” Shion admits softly.

“That’s no excuse!” He cries out, sniffing with frustration. “Why didn’t you just tell me? We could have figured it out together…!”

“You died because of me,” Shion spits out, his tone dripping with bitterness. “I—I had to watch your name turn black on my wrist. I don’t…” He bites down on his lip and swallows, feeling something expand in his lungs and make his eyes sting.

Alba sighs. It’s long and deep and it makes his face look tired and more aged than ever. “You were just trying to protect me,” he murmurs. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was so stupid and reckless and that I got killed. But it wasn’t your fault, Shion.”

“Are you even listening, Hero? They were coming after me, they were targeting me—”

“Even if I wasn’t your soulmate I still would have gotten caught up in it anyway!” Alba snaps, trembling. “But you…you left. You left me and you didn’t even bother telling me that you were my goddamn soulmate, and—and—!” He starts to cry again, choking on a sob. Shion’s breath hitches in his throat.

Without warning he surges forward, apples toppling out of his arms as he does, long forgotten. Before he can even think he has his hero pulled into an embrace, and they’re both shaking as Shion runs fingers through his hair.

“Oh my god,” Alba rasps, hugging him tightly. “What if you never came back? What if I had to go the rest of my life without ever seeing you again, what if I died by myself but knowing that you’d been mine all along—”

“Don’t say that,” Shion begs in a moment of weakness. “Please, don’t ever…”

Alba sobs quietly into his chest, and everything is so overwhelming, but it’s warm, warm, and his heart is glowing.

“I don’t ever want to see your name turn black either,” Alba whispers, and Shion grips his wrist so hard he yelps, but he takes it all in stride because this is Shion, Ros, the sadist and the sarcastic, the loyal and his soulmate.

Shion kisses his hair and holds him tight, feeling more relieved than he ever has in his whole life. He smiles as he says, “Black’s not your color anyway, Hero. You should really stop wearing those tacky gloves of yours.”

Alba rolls his eyes fondly, thinking There he is, and nuzzles his face into Shion’s shoulder.

“You’ve grown,” Shion says softly, pressing his lips against Alba’s head over and over. “I’m honestly shocked. The weak hero who couldn’t do anything has become a man.”

“Rude,” Alba squeaks out, his face flushed from Shion’s attention. “Of course I’ve grown. It’s been a whole year since you left.”

“Hero’s catching up to me,” Shion muses. “But you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re known as a legendary masochist.”

Alba groans in exasperation, but it’s cut off when Shion finds a place behind his ear with his mouth that makes him melt.

“I missed you,” the brunette breathes, sighing when those kisses trail down to the underside of his jaw. It’s escaped him that both Rchi and Janua are still there, but they’re being polite and looking the other direction for their sake.

“I wish I could say the same. It was only a few minutes for me,” Shion jokes, laughing when Alba regards him with a face that looks highly offended.

Alba opens his mouth to retort, but soon finds it occupied by another. Shion kisses him slow and sweet, and as they wind and intertwine around each other their wrists press together, the names Alba and Shion almost glowing with the strength of their affection.

When they finally break apart they look equally wrecked, and Alba tries to memorize the flush on Shion’s cheeks and the heat in his crimson eyes.

“I’m never letting you leave me again,” he says hoarsely, his voice cracking. Shion nods and softly brushes his lips against the corner of his mouth. It’s so weird to see Shion this affectionate, but the revelation of them being soulmates and that Shion’s waited a millennia for him makes it all okay.

“I’d be offended if you did, Hero,” Shion chuckles quietly, leaning forward so that their foreheads touch.

Shion has never believed in the solidarity of soulmates. But now, holding his own who is firmly there, he thinks he can start believing, as long as Alba always stays by his side.

I initially wrote a different ending that takes place in the current chapters, Alba was supposed to get caught in a collapsing building saving some kids and he temporarily dies but is revived by his magic, Ros was going to see that his wrist was black again and has a heart attack lol and goes straight to Alba without checking his wrist a second time and has a breakdown crying because he thought he really died this time :’) But then my writing had other plans and led me in this direction instead so

OH AND!! Cecily’s name was red on Rchimedes’ wrist because of the whole transferred to the future not really dead but in his point of time is sort of thing

Thanks for reading!! I hope ya’ll liked it, it was fun for me to write and it definitely helped me break out of my writer’s block so ^^