An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rated: Mature but will probably change later
I just realized I can share my story here! I've been writing this fic for about a month and just posted chapter 3. Mana and Atem are both gay and marry each other so they can secretly be with their actual partners. WLW and MLM solidarity at its finest. Hope you'll wanna check it out!
My Zexal OTPs Keyshipping (they are like a cute puzzleshipping 😻) Tentacleshipping (some darkness always is welcome 😘) Bindshipping (i know it should be with Astral too but i couldn't find a pic with the three of then sooo this shoulb be do it hahhaha) Skyshipping (they are cute together, is the tipical bff romance) Stolenshipping ( two dom sexy males and a cute yuma, have to say more 😏)
self-given prompt: something absolutely no one asked for or needs but here i am delivering this shit out anyway
it’s been brought up that ninety-six is, in a sense, astral’s child – and now that keyshipping is canon, any 96yuu is, in a sense, just ninety-six having a raging inappropriate crush on his stepdad.
ninety-six is very against the idea of yuma being his step- having any dad.
•
it starts with ninety-six very sarcastically and with very little love calling astral “dad.” astral’s response is predictable: a quick sideways glare and a disapproving frown, but nothing else if not for yuma’s sputter of “h-haahh?? what?”
“nothing for you to concern yourself with,” ninety-six answers, waving him off. “a mind as incompetent as yours, even for a human, couldn’t possibly comprehend–”
“not in a literal sense, but,” astral begins even as ninety-six is still talking, and ninety-six snaps his teeth shut in irritation once his own words are drowned out. “ninety-six did come from me – granted, in a more literal sense than most of the other numbers. he actually resided in me for thousands of years, too cowardly to come out until after i lost my memories and lost most my powers. you would think he wouldn’t be, with how often he brags about being conceived in battle.”
“i was biding my time,” ninety-six snaps, glare honing in on astral’s unimpressed stare and completely missing yuma’s gawking. “perhaps you’re not as smart as you brag yourself to be, but ‘battle’ means there’s some strategy accompanying it! i knew from the moment i was conscious of you that you would be an unworthy leader; it was only right that i planned from the moment of my conception to overthrow–”
“so ninety-six was inside you the whole time!” yuma asks to clarify. ninety-six, silenced again, throws the brunt of his glare towards the other partner now too. “like, like an actual baby? that means when we saw ninety-six for the first time, it was his ‘birth’; does that mean–” he points at the number in question “–you’re actually, like, a baby?”
ninety-six just barely reigns in the urge to grab yuma by the collar and lift him, but astral stands between them, exasperated. “no,” he all but sighs. “although yes, he acts like it. but as i said, none of this is literal. a close analogy, though.”
“it is not,” ninety-six yells. “you and i and this one–” he waves, blasé, at yuma “–know very well that i am no child–”
“it would explain a lot.” yuma says.
“–as i am much too powerful to be one–”
“not if we compare my full powers to yours.” astral points out.
“–and, as i’ve said, i’ve retained consciousness long before our first meeting, and my knowledge is too vast for this ridiculous analogy–”
yuma leans in towards astral and asks quietly, “is that even true?”
“i have my doubts,” astral confides, answering easily.
“I KNOW MORE FROM ALL MY YEARS OF EXISTENCE THAN YOU CAN EVER CONCEIVE, BOY.” ninety-six roars, pointing accusingly at the both of them even as his declaration really just addresses one. “i’ve seen the formation and deaths of stars, i was there when your very existence was merely a possibility. do not refer to me as a child; i could have just as easily made my presence known years ago and made sure you were never even born!”
“so how was he born,” yuma asks astral, attention easily redirected again. astral regards ninety-six with a hand to his chin, considering, while ninety-six himself rides on the verge of pulling his hair out, as well as the hairs of the other two occupants of the room.
astral opens his mouth to answer, but ninety-six takes his turn to interrupt. “i said: in battle.” the answer is given through clenched, irate teeth. “the malice that the other fool, don thousand, directed at astral rested inside him and helped create me.”
“it was all rather unfortunate,” astral adds when no one fucking asked him. yuma gasps at the mention of don thousand, the memories of their past struggles briefly playing in his mind.
“you’re welcome,” ninety-six sneers, “dad.” though the glee that accompanied the sarcastic phrase before is absent from the draining frustration of this whole conversation now, it is still a bit of a reward to see astral give him such a look of distaste.
“don thousand is your other dad?” yuma asks, tone high with disbelief but soft enough to make ninety-six very suspicious of whether or not yuma might actually feel sorry for him for having such a worthless other-father.
“NO.” ninety-six really does make a grab for yuma this time, or tries to. astral blocks him from the human easily, almost looking bored while trying to restrain one of the strongest numbers. “that fool is not my fath– i don’t have a father, you brat!” he corrects. “what part of ‘calling astral dad is a joke’ escapes you? what part of ‘this isn’t literal’ don’t you get?”
it is moments before ninety-six ceases attempting to wrap one of his limbs around yuma’s body and pull or shake. yuma remains unharmed while the entirety of ninety-six’s pride feels like it’s been shattered and scattered in pieces all around him. he sits in a silly human chair in a silly human house in this silly planet like a child put in time-out by his elder, dizzy with his last tantrum and all the nuances of the topic which had brought it out. every instinct he has tells him to just try harder in breaking everything nearby in rage, and he is stopped by two pairs of eyes watching him from the doorway.
yuma makes to speak again, and ninety-six tells astral, “make him shut up.”
yuma’s mouth clicks shut, but through the indignation, ninety-six can see a lack of the usual anger and distrust that have often met ninety-six after another attempt at violence. the soft expression is more worrisome and threatening than any glower that yuma has thrown his way.
astral puts a placating hand on yuma’s shoulder. “this is a sensitive subject for him,” he reasons quietly, probably pretending that ninety-six isn’t close enough to hear them talking about him, and yuma nods in acknowledgment. “it is maybe best that we don’t bring it up often. we have to be good fathers to him now.” the gentleness in yuma’s face breaks, shattered like the last remnants of ninety-six’s pride as they both blink and gape at astral, who promptly shuts the door between the three of them. “it’s up to us.”
ninety-six is unaware that just the statement had struck him hard enough that he’d leaned back in his chair, head tilted up and eyes staring vacantly upward close to the ceiling. astral’s words repeat themselves in his mind, and gradually, he registers the sarcasm and mocking that underlined them, vengeance for for ninety-six’s own patronizing returned much more subtly.
“asTRAALL… ”
•
a/n: every fic i write with 96 in particular is like asking any willing readers to send me flame mail – just as ninety-six would do.
"What do you suppose it is?" Astral murmured, gazing down at the creature washed up on the shore between him and his brother.
It was half human, with a young, slender boyish body and face, but with a long white tail, marked with red scaled in almost a flame like pattern that was actually rather pretty; Astral wasn't going to call it a merman- merboy?- because that would just be weird and stuff like that is the stuff of fairytales, it was probably just a boy messing around and play a trick.
Even so, Black Mist picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, carrying him away down the beach with Astral running after him, demanding he tell him what on earth he was thinking but Mist just smiled, "we'll take him home and see what he really is and, if he is what he looks like, how much he'll do to keep his existence secret."
