Need✨More✨Jitter-Liquid☕️

Year of OTP ⟢ JULY : Stars

Years after the defeat of E’Rah, a brand new chaotic energy has begun suddenly afflicting the city of Heartland. Dangerous unknown cards have amassed across the city. New enemies arise, and in the long absence of any previous 'heroes', it seems that hope for some victory over the new threat grows more fleeting with each passing day. And then, one night, a boy witnesses a falling star. . .

| 𝑍𝑒𝒳𝑎𝑙  𝑀𝑜𝑛𝓉𝒽 |

Hygge; - ’A very special moment (...) where you feel utterly content, secure, reassured, and comforted (...) amongst a loved one. ’ 〖 Jey / Astral 〗

This fanart was more so on a whim, I wanted to draw a more fluffy and happy golden kind of just for the sake of it lmao Luckily there was a prompt that befit that!

Hope you all have a very nice rest of Zexal Month! Thank you for another great one! 🩵✨

May I please request some headcanons/scenario for Mist/No.96 where mc was his duel partner - and almost romantic partner - but then the end half of zexal happened and 96 perished;

BuT since then mc has been basically bullying the main trio to revive 96 too along with everyone, and then it happens, and they meet again and it’s -!!🥺🥺♡

this is long and kinda rambly so I hope it's okay!!

Thinking back on it, you weren’t quite sure how the odd pairing had ever happened. He was otherworldly, alien, and oh-so-intimidating, with a body that oozed the absence of light and fangs that gleamed like a broken moon. His markings had been your favorite, though— deep shades of red and green, they glowed, luminescent, despite the fact that his body was darkness given form. His voice had pinned you in place, even more so than the pressure that seemed to emanate from his very presence.

And you were just a human. Fragile and flawed and exactly what he was looking for. You’d had no reasons to get involved with the Barians or that other alien that looks just like him, but Dark Mist— when he’d announced his name like introducing a god, you’d nearly keeled over laughing— had dragged you along for the ride, in need of someone with tangible hands who could interact with the world beyond his reach.

It definitely wasn’t where you’d expected to go with your life. All the alien wanted to do was cause problems; he was constantly materializing in front of people and goading them into brawls, only to slip behind you when things got heated and order you around like a pawn on a chessboard. It’s not like you were doing anything else with your days. Your dueling skills may’ve only been average on your own, but Dark Mist had an understanding of duel monsters that you’d never seen in anyone before. When he suggested a play, you did it, and you always won— eventually he graced you even further with his presence, slipping the card with his own name into your deck and demanding you use it even if he wasn’t around. [He was always around, though— you were beginning to suspect he had nowhere else to go.]

Admittedly, his initial attitude was a lot to take. Arrogant and bossy and bordering on— crossing into— criminal. But there were moments that made up for it— the late nights where you’d climb from your balcony onto your roof and find him floating there like a black hole, watching Heartland far beneath him. And he asks you how electric lights work. And you remember he’s not exactly from here.

Some nights, he turns his golden eyes up to the stars, and he begins to brag. There’s worlds beyond Earth, he tells you, and he’s been to them— he can go whenever he’d like, and you’re stuck here on your silly little planet. He never answers when you ask him why he doesn’t just go, why he insists on drifting over your shoulder like a bad song, scaring you awake every morning because he hovers far too close to your face. Instead he just turns away from you and mutters something— you don’t catch it all, but you’re sure he’s said something about bringing you along to other worlds one day. You tell him you’ll hold him to that promise— his markings glow an even brighter red.

You’d never asked for any of this. He’d followed through on his word and dragged you to all sorts of other worlds, but it wasn’t the adventure you’d been hoping for— instead, as his proclaimed dueling pawn, you were there when he lost. When Astral sealed your odd not-quite-friend away permanently. When his body dissolved just out of your reach, and you were left with a sense of isolation you’d never felt before. The only proof he’d ever been in your life was the copy of his card still resting in your deckbox.

Yuma tried to apologize. Even if he couldn’t understand why you’d feel that way about someone practically made of evil, the alien had still been someone important to you, and he understood that much. You’d barely made it to your feet before demanding he take you home and never speak to you again.

With Dark Mist gone, the next few months passed like a foggy morning. You didn’t care enough to stay involved with the end of the world; you were vaguely aware that time had passed when Heartland disappeared, and then everything was okay again. For everyone else, anyways. One unfortunate day, your path crossed with Yuma again, Astral still quietly floating alongside him as they watch the ocean— you can’t decide if you want to shove them into the water, or drop to your knees and beg.

Your body made the choice for you. When you blinked, you were holding Yuma by the collar of his vest, dragging him up until he was balancing on his toes and then you make your demands. Your hands are trembling even as they hold him steady, and eventually his own gloved hands land on top of yours— instead of trying to tear you off him, Yuma wants to comfort you. He knows how it felt to lose Astral over and over— he knows you haven’t healed.

It’s a long debate. Astral doesn’t think it should be done, citing everything that Dark Mist caused; Yuma, though, is adamant that everyone deserves a happy ending. Vector— Ray— had gotten one, after all; 96 will have you to watch out for him, so there’s no real harm. Astral still holds the power to heal a few more hearts.