#Failed Star Jupiter

[elmushterri]

Semester One of university had me unable to post 😭😭 so sorry!

In the meantime I was thinking about musicals (before Wicked, I promise 😭 I worked so long on this dumb idea)

I was thinking of a hypothetical musical… about the Solar System? You guys know me, my name is literally Jupiter.

It would start with the solar system forming and the Sun saying to young Jupiter that they’re also going to be a star at some point, time skip within the song and and uH, they’re more like the Sun’s overworked assistant. Until they snap and the story’s about overthrowing the Sun, planet shenanigans, and regretting it.

There’s also Saturn cause I envision Saturn being very uptight, isolated and a routine enjoyer (If you’re wondering, I totttally took inspiration from Pitch Black’s design and for the ring). Saturn has skeletons in his closet but only cause he keeps the solar system running too.

There’s also an element of Jovians Vs Terrestrials (Saturn, Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune VS Mars, Earth, Mercury and Venus) and this rivalry.

Also Jupiter’s four biggest moons (Io, Callisto, Ganymede and Europa) are her backup singers.

I have written a couple songs (The first one w/ Sol) and one where Jupiter blackmails Saturn to help them out but of course, I’m not a music producer so it sounds very… unmixed.

(And don’t worry I’ll address a bunch of asks and tags later, I just got off Uni for break 😭😭😭)

[delicrieux]

𝐣𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 | endless oneshots (winter edition)

pairing—regulus black x reader genre—angst, doomed to fail trope <3 summary—what could the cards have in store for him? word count—1.6k

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

“you will be great.”

those words, spoken in a pliant tone, do little to move regulus. perhaps history, tradition, and the cumulative expectations of both had shaped him in such a way that prophesy meant greatness, whether desired or not. he will be great, because he is the only son of the great and noble house of black, and he will be happy, because he knows no other alternative, nor does anyone care to provide him with one. the reality of such an existence has weighed him slightly, made his expression pensive and head stuck slightly downward. happy. in a depthless, easy sense with no meaning.

regulus longs for meaning. you search for it in the cards.

you sit, and he sits in front of you, and together you are illuminated by the fire. the hearth burns and the carpet feels scratchy on his palms, and regulus likes the way you shuffle the cards — the rhythmic slide and click of expensive laminated paper, the soft way you breathe with the lower lip slightly gaping — and the way you draw — the flick of your wrist, the schooled expression, the lazy flick of your lashes, and the light twitch of your cheek.

in your eyes he can find a pensieve — not for their colour, but for a quality entirely different that in all of his reading and thinking he has still failed to name.

“naturally,” he responds slowly; he hopes that as you see past the pretty image held between your fingers, you will see past the layers of a lie, too, “that is all i need to know, yes? i will be great, and so this is pointless."

"if that is all, then i will not tell you more."

your response is too simple. "and if i ask for more?"

"you are free to. the cards not only speak of destiny, regulus. they can guide, but they are not a prophecy."

"so the cards do not tell the future?"

"the future is never set," you tell him, and this time you look up. in his eyes he thinks you might find a reflection, but it is only a mirage. "it is an amalgamation of events. each and every choice we make changes it and changes it again."

 "so what good are the cards then?"

"they are a guide," you chide, your expression morphing into something vexed, "merlin, you grow more stubborn by the hour. the cards can only show the possibilities."

"useless. i already know my path."

"you will be great."

"i will be great."

"do you not wonder what that means, regulus?"

you speak as if you already know the answer. you speak as if you know everything. you are a seer, or, at the very least, penchant for the gift of one. like your mother and grandmother and the women before you, you suffer from fever and delirium late at night. they had gone mad prophesising a future undeciphered, and you shall, too, only regulus refuses to believe it only for the fact that he cannot bear the idea of your fate.

"what more is there to know? it is simply a title and an empty one at that. my father will be the minister, and he is great. i'm his son, and, so," and then he pauses, his lips twitching. "i will be great."

regulus is not naive. he knows the reality of the world he lives in. the weight of responsibility and expectation upon his shoulders is not one he is blind to. he has always known that his future is to be a facsimile of the past, a carbon copy of his father and a shadow of his ancestors. his fate is written and the pages are sealed. he can accept his but he can never accept yours. it appears absurd to him. the very thought scorns.

"is that really the life you want?"

"yes," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "of course it is. who would not?"

you could be great, too. you predicted exam questions, menial relationship drama between classmates, a meteor shower mid-june. the death of the heir. when you spoke of it, your voice wavered; in the candlelight, regulus looked hard for a sign of sorrow, but he found nothing.

the stars had aligned in a month with his mother's raised wand. sirius was burned out the family tree, leaving a stain of soot and a strange emptiness. you saw the change, and remained gravely silent, and your eyes, such pretty twin planets constantly calling him into your orbit, had poured into his portrait instead.

the cards seem meaningless now. a paltry mood has enveloped him and an ancient sorrow swells. the darkness of the dining hall seems closer, nearer, and the fire crackles and your clothing glows and your skin shifts with each flicker.

he wishes that he could sit in the gentle silence of your presence — however awkward it may be — until the sky erupts into another storm. a part of him imagines that it would be nice to watch with you. better than his empty room, the oppressive solitude he always seems to return to when he looks at you or thinks of you or remembers you suddenly and for no reason. just because he can think of nothing he would not tell you should you ask, but he realises this is less indicative of a desire to speak and more of a desire to keep you close to him.

the light hits and regulus is struck by a sudden awareness. a desperate longing arises inside him. whatever this feeling is, whatever this urge is, is overshadowing rationality and decorum. his palms feel sweaty on the taupe fabric covering his legs. he feels shaky and anxious and his stomach stirs with a familiar unease that he has learned to repress in your presence, yet some fluke, some unaccounted for variable in this constant, ever-growing, uncontrollable infatuation has taken root and is growing far quicker than any other sprouts had before.

an undeniable change is bubbling up inside him and he feels he might collapse into himself surrounded by your fragrance.

how pretty, how lovely, how much he wants to touch you. to stroke a fingertip across your bottom lip. how strange that regulus cannot tell you such. he wants. in a soft, quiet way; a greedy sense of need overwhelms him, so he clenches his teeth, shuts his eyes, and wills it away. in the darkness he thinks and then realises that the ache in his stomach is only a hunger.

"can you," he begins slowly, clawing through his muddled thoughts for a shred of clarity. he needn't see you to know you are at attention. he feels it, perhaps, or wishes it to be so. to see the truth would be to deny himself a selfish sweetness. a dog can live on scraps, but he is supposed to be more than that. he keeps his eyes closed, "can you see others?"

"others?"

"in my future," he clarifies, though he believes he is saying too much.

"in a moment," he hears you murmur. paper sounds as if brushed aside, and there is a brief moment of what feels like privacy before the clicking begins again. the slow, rhythmic thudding of regulus' pulse. his breath. your breathing is more stilted.

regulus is patient; when he opens his eyes you have spread out five cards on the rug between you. your fingers graze each one and he is envious. each movement is so purposeful.

"...i'm sorry, regulus," you begin, your voice lacking the confidence it possessed only minutes ago. there is a nervous drawl in your tone that disturbs him. "i can't see past the waves."

a metaphor, surely, but regulus knows he is sinking under the expectations placed upon him. in his mind, the words play in a loop: i will be great.

"it's alright," regulus says, his voice hollow. something of a void has overcome him and he feels cold — so cold. "you must be tired."

with another smooth noise — a soft, pleasant sound — the cards are carefully returned to their container. regulus bites his tongue. the dull sensation of a headache settles in his temples. a thought. an action. decisions not yet made. he wonders if the cards could show him each and every action he could have made to show you what he feels for you, and what you could have done in return. would they emphasize his failure or gloss it over in the vague fog marked 'past.'

"a tad," you admit, a bit lighter, the life pouring back to your face in a gentle stream. you look at him as if you are waiting for an invitation he can't find in himself to make.

is it better this way?

regulus feels a sickly disappointment stir. it sits heavily in his chest, an unpleasant reminder that he still yearns for something else and has given up on finding it. if he stares into the fire long enough, perhaps it will consume him. but it's not his element.

"regulus?"

"no," he starts before you can ask the question and beg the answer he will not give. "i'm fine."

"ah."

"a fortuitous reading," he remarks with a small, wry smile. "i am truly favoured."

you offer a lopsided smile back, though he is taken aback by your weariness. it is a glimpse beyond the false pretence of your pleasantries, and he knows you must pity him, even if you will not say. you are always saying things he wants to hear and not saying things he needs to. you offer distraction and praise where you should offer reality. what is the point in fortunes and dreams and spells to foresee one's future? such things merely lead one to misfortune, or, in regulus' case, a predetermined, inevitable misery.

he will be great, won't he? it matters so little. you don't reveal what hurts him. he knows that you can't see past the waves because you aren't there to cut through them. whatever future exist, it exists without you.

to him, that is no future at all.

hope u enjoyed! mwah! <3

[dexylloyd]

A failed star but a successful older brother 🌟

Tw: Nsx nudity!

Drawing 2 of 4

[lolapath]

One day the Sun shall destroy every planet

Mercury burnt because it got to close to the Sun

Venus became lethal after surviving the apocalipse

Earth gave humans everything only to be killed

The Moon could only watch as the Earth was dying

…………………………

all photos are from pinterest | shall I make Part 2?

[forcebook]

Tinn & Gun in My School President episode 7.

[moranaaaaaaaa]

I owe an apology dance

[splattered-ink]

My Jupiter.

My 'almost' star.

She was never a home for life, her core not even solid enough to form a place to stand.

She could have been a star. Usurped by Her.

She screams through her violent windstorms, hundrends of years in length.

Her anguish is loud and endless. A swirling storm of volatility.

Billions of years could not assuage her.

Dozens of moons could not comfort her.

She is beautiful, and she is in agony.

And the worst of it is

She was never destined for stardom.

[bat-circus]

Demon slayer manga spoilers!

Thinking about how nakime is the phrase “Jupiter was supposed to be a star but failed”. She was so loyal and devoted to Muzan probably being the second person who he was closest to. But still never being promoted even though she hast to have one of the strongest blood demon arts. When she was promoted, it was basically only because Four of his other demons were dead. And just, just as she was promoted and finally being recognized, she was killed by the same person who she was loyal to.

[godinvent]

“Jupiter tried to be a star but failed” absolutely laughable to think that’s a bad thing. I guarantee you most of you can’t name more than 5 stars. EVERYONE knows Jupiter, the largest planet, with dozens of moons, named after the king of the gods himself. In its “failure” Jupiter became so so much more than a star.

[aludraslytherin]

Sirius and Andromeda are Jupiter.

They had the chance to be a star, yet they couldn't take it, they couldn't become one. They took the hits and the hurts that were destined to their siblings, like Jupiter took the asteroids and comets that were supposed to hit the Earth.

[elmushterri]

I thought I posted this? 😭 it’s just gone or I didn’t post it at all.

Just a little bit of the thing I’m writing for the video script for the Solar System Musical. The Council of Stars wouldn’t look like that it’s just shorthand for whatever they’re meant to look like.

[mattey-stu]

"Jupiter was supposed to be a star, but failed."

Jupiter is me.

[darthkvznblogs]

What does Thanos think of species that don't fit his worldview? Like the Pyronites, who live on a star and therefore are not wasting the resources of a planet.

Well, they may not consume the same kind of resources that organics do, but they still consume something. Living organisms (those that develop naturally, as opposed to manufactured synthetics like Geth or the Mechamorphs) don't just exist; they are born, they grow, they reproduce, and they die. Obviously, these functions take different forms for different species, but in the end, they still follow these rules in some way.

In a sense, a species like the Pyronites would be worse; the resources they require are even more rare than those of organics (who can typically share food somewhat safely and have a much wider range of habitats they can live in) so in Thanos' eyes, they're destined for collapse even quicker than the rest.

(Of course, that is the issue here; this is Thanos' opinion. And sure, many species throughout the centuries have ended themselves in a similar way to the people of Titan. But many have also found workarounds, solved their problems and avoided extinction - not that this knowledge would sway the Mad Titan. I think Thanos can justify pretty much anything he does in his crusade, because at the end of the day, he enjoys the killing just a bit more than he values the living)

[lolapath]

I have seen young scholars, walking down the street.

I could not help but to look at the lonesome girl, following the group from behind.

I wanted to stop her, to fall on my knees and beg her forgiveness.

But it is already too late. I could not save her. Now, that they are gone.

[oasisofataraxy]

jupiter

the lengths Hamilton went through to write 51 essays in six months. he wrote non-stop. he didn't give anyone a chance.

burr never had the potential to be as good as hamilton

~ jupiter tried to be a star and failed

[ohgodwhatdoiputhere]

"Jupiter was supposed to be a star but failed" Dorcas Meadowes

"Earth is slowly destroying itself" Barty Crouch Jr

"Mercury, the forgotten planet" Evan Rosier

"Venus planet of love, was destroyed by global warming" Pandora Lovegood

"Pluto was considered too small to be important" Regulus Black