#jupiter ascending fanfic

[takiki16]

A Fine Chain

UPDATE: Chapter 12/?

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Beta: @gallifreyburning

Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Dom/sub, Power Imbalance, Royalty, Slavery, Collars, Leashes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Don’t copy to another site, Dark

Summary: Caine Wise, disgraced ex-Skyjacker and convicted criminal, is suddenly inducted into the service of the enigmatic Queen Nea-Seraphi, mysterious new Recurrence and puzzle to the Entitled social circle. While figuring out the boundaries of his new station, worrying about his old commander, and nursing old wounds from his court martial, Caine finds himself slowly being drawn into the confidence of his royal employer. What could Her Majesty possibly want with a defective splice?

In which Caine attends a party, the queen gets a kiss, and there are musings on the line of succession - not necessarily in that order.

[sare-liz]

Oh, this is the cracfic musical version of Jupiter Ascending that you didn’t know you need in your life. Cthulu F’tagn makes a cameo, but given a certain value of Balem’s TradeMark Crazy this should genuinely surprise no one who has been paying attention. It’s possible I have had WAY too much fun writing this series for the past fifteen months. And yes, this is a finished story you can throw back in one afternoon, depending on just how quickly you read. Enjoy. https://archiveofourown.org/works/41331987

[wanna-begirlblogger]

my english professor extended its due date LETS GO!! im still going to try and turn it in by its original due date so wish me luck. and im working on a draft on my fic if anyone cared lol. i’ve literally been watching Jupiter Ascending almost everyday and i just wish the storyline was continued.

[xidaer]

:') thank u.

here are the meanings of the numbers:

3 characters (of the og movie)

20 fake quotes (to spice up the dialogue)

2 prompts (to give a basic outline to work off from)

13(k) words (this isn't much btw my stories that i blurt out on pages are 7k on average and i'm already 3k into my first draft of your fic bdbdjbd

OMG- the numbers deciphered!!! I had to manually go back to last months posts (because mobile search is bleh) and I screenshot the original ranges.

NOW I MUST ASK…

… whenever you’re comfy I’d love to know the full list of 10 prompts you were pulling from! And also are you going for EXACTLY 13333 words? (Please don’t feel obligated to do so, I’m just amused by the idea) and did you have a list of fake quotes you’re using?

SO MANY QUESTIONS!

You are totally awesome and also feel free to reveal yourself if you’d like (although answering publicly is a lot of fun)

[sigmaleph]

anyway setting aside that the wachowskis have a Thing for the horror of distilling human bodies into a liquefied commodity, the thing that is staying in my mind about Jupiter Ascending is the (entirely unexplored) status quo post the events of the movie, where according to Space Law the legal owner of Earth is, y'know, some guy. Some girl who cleans bathrooms for a living. who presumably does not want to keep the previous owner's plans for the planet, those being liquefying humans en masse but like. what is she going to do with it.

what resources does Jupiter have now. does whatever system was keeping up the masquerade, erasing memories and reconstructing buildings destroyed in alien firefights, work for her now. does she have liquid assets she can use to participate in the space economy or does she just own Earth, an apparently very valuable asset ofc but not one she is going to use the obvious space profitable way.

if Jupiter wanted to roll up to the UN or the White House or wherever and say 'hi sorry yeah y'all work for me according to space law' can she enforce that, and is her ability to enforce that contingent on participating in the horrifying space economy?

has someone written that fanfic

[msviolacea]

Okay, I've been sitting on these thoughts for a couple of weeks, and I've been reading one of my favorite genre writing books today in preparation for a potential project, and they flashed to the surface again. And I just can't resist anymore, sorry.

I saw a post a bit ago that seemed to angrily indicate that telling writers that they need a plot summary/logline/advertising text that goes beyond a list of tropes was somehow ... ableist? discriminatory against marginalized writers? some kind of elitist bullshit? I don't know, but I could hear the whizzing air of a point sailing over someone's head as I read it and it irritated me.

So, okay, let's go over why I think that's a load of crap.

You have a book or a fic or a story of some sort. When I ask you what it's about, you tell me "bisexuals in space, enemies to lovers!" If we're talking about a fanfic, okay, that's probably enough information to tell me if I want to read it - because I know the fandom, and therefore I have a pretty good idea of what else the story is going to entail. But if you're trying to sell me on your original story? I'm sure there are some people who would still jump on it, but I am really not one of them, and I venture to guess many, many other people are the same way.

Why? Here's a sampling of what your trope phrases do and do not tell me.

Okay, there are bisexual characters. And the fact that you reference enemies to lovers makes me think that we're talking about a romance. But that's not guaranteed! Is the story about the bisexuals falling in love? Is it a space adventure in which people incidentally fall in love? Does it not involve love or sex at all, just a bisexual character in a totally different story who happens to have sex with an enemy in a side plot?

Seriously, how does bisexuality or enemies or lovers factor into your plot?

If you're basing your advertising of your story on sexuality, what kind of society are you writing about? Is this a fun fantasy space setting where there's no discrimination based on who you want (or don't want) to have sex with? Or is this story going to include discrimination that parallels real-world problems? Those are two vastly different moods I have to be in to read a thing.

Overall, even if this is a romance, what's the sub-genre you're going with? Space opera? If it is, is it a ridiculous Jupiter Ascending world or a more gritty Expanse-style world? Is it hard sci-fi leaning? Is it actually a murder mystery set on a space station? Is it an action thriller set on a giant starship? Is it a cozy character study? Something totally different?

What do your characters want? A story in which your MC wants to become monarch of their homeworld is very different than one in which your MC is a smuggler trying to get out of legal trouble, and both are very different from an MC who is devoted to revenge against the person who killed their family.

What tone is your story? Again, if you're using tropes to advertise, my guess is it's somewhat lighthearted. But that's not guaranteed at all.

These are just the things I could think of in like 5 minutes. And maybe you don't care about any of these things, and you're happy to have an audience just of people who can read any kind of story any time as long as there are bisexuals in space. That's great! You found your audience! Have fun!

... but I'm betting that audience is very small, relatively speaking. And that you wouldn't be complaining about it if you didn't want a wider audience.

And implying that a reader or readers asking for something more than a list of tropes is somehow discriminatory against you, whatever marginalization you happen to have? That's insulting nonsense. Writing a story summary - be it for an Amazon page, the back of a book, the summary box on AO3, your website, whatever - is a skill that can be learned by anyone who can write a story long enough to require one. It's a different skill than writing the story, don't get me wrong, but it's a skill you can learn regardless.

By all means, put the tropes there too! Have them at the top or bottom of your summary! Put them on your website! I know romance authors who have search functions on their websites where you can filter by tropes! Those are great, but those authors also know that an individual story summary is also necessary! I can filter and say "I want to read hurt/comfort" but then I need to know what the fuck the story is about. Fanfic can be just about hurt/comfort and get its audience - BECAUSE people know the base fandom. Original fiction, not so much.

Anyway. That stuck under my skin, and now it's out. Hooray.

[plutosmainhoe]

Draco Malfoy - Birth Chart Interpretation Masterlist

Part I Part II

Part III Part IV

Part V Part VI

Part VII Part VIII

Part IX Part X

Part XI Part XII

Sun Aspects Moon Aspects

Ascendant Aspects Mercury Aspects

Venus Aspects Mars Aspects

Jupiter Aspects Saturn Aspects

Uranus Aspects Neptune Aspects

Pluto Aspects

____________________________________

G'Day!

Welcome, mates, to my Draco Malfoy Birth Chart Interpretation master post.

As I always mention, I'm no professional at this. If I'm incorrect about something, please, please, let me know. I don't want to spread misinformation.

Essentially, those who have followed along (like 3 people, but I appreciated those 3 sm) will now understand how my OC, Camila Reinherz, will fit into the HP Universe.

If ya new here, I am writing a Harry Potter based fanfiction, written in Draco Malfoy's perspective. All seven stories in Draco's perspective. I am trying my damn hardest to keep it to canon, but with not a lot given by JKR about Draco's perspective, I went crazy and made some lore.

The lore, is tied to a character/family I created, allowing Draco to have other connections away from school. You can read about the added character, here.

Writing a Draco Malfoy fanfic that is as close to canon that it can be, with added lore, is incredibly difficult when there's not a whole lot of deep information about Draco's personal life. We only see him through Harry's eyes, which is a negative perspective because of bad first impressions.

So, we analyse Draco's birth chart, instead.

Luckily, we do have Draco's birthdate; 5th June, 1980. Solid, right?

JKR didn't give us a birth time *groans in Australian*

JKR also didn't give us a birth place *curses in Australian*

I had to go searching for information, and I wasn't confident I would find I good sauce, especially considering that this decision changes everything, in a birth chart.

I found a sauce.

June 5th 1980, 15:30, London.

I believe a Libra Ascendant matches Draco most, and you will find out why when we discuss his first house.

For those who can't read a birth chart, don't worry about the above chart - I'll be going through this for a reason.

Why am I doing this? Because I refuse to enter this challenge writing the same old, tired, over-used, bad-boy character that everyone seems to have pinned him as. I want him to have proper character arc and character growth. You cannot convince me that ending up with Astoria Greengrass, a half-blood from the sacred twenty-eight, is character growth (she DIES anyway!!!).

I won't be using any photos of movie Draco throughout this series. With books, you are only given a visual through words, and that's how it will stay.

You guys have no idea how excited I have been to drop who my fanfic is centred on 😭

[msfbgraves]

Since Hollywood also is churning out nothing but sequels, reboots and remakes, what now?

This makes me think of my fourth year in Berlin. The first two years I was on a theatre frenzy. I can't hold much booze or dance for very long, so since I wasn't drinking my money, I went to the theatre. I mean the tickets were €8!

Swan Lake, Nutcracker, Hänsel und Gretel, Entführung aus dem Serail, Threepenny Opera, Cats, Oscar Wilde, Norma, some Schiller I didn't care for, all the Hollywood flicks for 4 euros on Tuesdays. I found the Philharmonie a bother to get to, spoiled brat that I was. European films from the Berlinale it was, yet more ballet.

And then I started to notice that a lot of the big things I'd already seen?

This is how you get to the experimental things.

Hollywood's crap, new TV is bad fanfic, mostly.

So, after burning off some of the good, as I of course haven't seen everything yet -

Time to get experimental again.

Now, I've seen some bad plays in my later Berlin years. Just, y'know, godawful. But some things have stayed with me, if only through a lingering sense of bewilderment. I can't even really name one specific play they were often so strange. But it did wet my appetite for simply going and seeing what happened.

It seems that tv is forcing us, together with Hollywood, to do the same thing. Ghibli may not appeal to me much, aesthetically, but if there's nothing new to be had I might discover something. Maybe I'll watch Jupiter Ascending for the extreme weirdness of it.

Honestly, this is how this happens, Hollywood. It's simply people with a ferocious appetite for story not finding anything. Weird story is better than bad story, ok? You're driving people like me, who would have been perfectly happy paying €8 a pop to see a 90 minute medium budget Matt Damon movie for years on end, right underground, because there are none around anymore. I am not the target audience for Quentin Tarentino or Brian De Palma, dafuq are you doing making me watch Scarface instead? If you don't want Venom to be a love story, you need to give teenage girls something else to watch. I thought you had some indoctrinating to do, too, huh? You are not helping the capitalist US military agenda by driving me into the arms of a gay junkie NYC playwright of Russian descent, man. That's what you get for limiting people's options. Ralph Macchio could have been a perfectly fine 80's and 90's leading man, but no, you had to drive him to the weird stuff, didn't you? And if you don't want a feminist critique of Heat, I guess you're outta luck because I've watched it now, and The Aviator's next. O, and Everybody's Fine is one of De Niro's best films even if it isn't award cinema and a total cash grab. I would have never found that movie if you'd put something decent on, but nooooooo.

Because I know it's bad. If you're unironically enjoying The Karate Kid part III more than, well, anything else on, it is bad.

But boy. If you thought we were weird now...

[takiki16]

A Fine Chain

UPDATE: Chapter 13/?

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Beta: @gallifreyburning

Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Dom/sub, Power Imbalance, Royalty, Slavery, Collars, Leashes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Don’t copy to another site, Dark

Summary: Caine Wise, disgraced ex-Skyjacker and convicted criminal, is suddenly inducted into the service of the enigmatic Queen Nea-Seraphi, mysterious new Recurrence and puzzle to the Entitled social circle. While figuring out the boundaries of his new station, worrying about his old commander, and nursing old wounds from his court martial, Caine finds himself slowly being drawn into the confidence of his royal employer. What could Her Majesty possibly want with a defective splice?

For this chapter I highly recommend a soundtrack!

And also, perhaps, a visual aid 😈😈😈

[sare-liz]

Does it look like a 1980′s sci fi book cover? Oh, good. You can find this (finished!) fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36288577 It’s the second in a series. I’m finishing the series this week. The series has 500,000+ words, so you’re set for reading, if you like what I read. :)

[the-starry-seas]

deadpool & wolverine spoilers but

playing you're the one that i want while wade and logan try to kill each other, and logan straight up has bedroom eyes, and the shot ends on the car rocking like that living rent free in my mind for the rest of my life tbh OH THEY FUCKIN

YOOOOOOOOOOO BLAAAAAAADE

no excuse for that accent though my boy gambit's from LOUISIANA

holy fuck. LAURA?! she's been my favourite since forever... her... my sweet little meow meow... 🥺

aw they killed my boy cockroach frank

this is glorious fanfic in a jupiter ascending way and i'm gonna watch it ten more times

LET'S FUCKIN GO

laura i would kill for you. i'm cuddling you as we speak.

i couldn't have them thinking i wanted to be there... THE HUMANS CAME AND WENT MUTANT HUNTING... i need to say it... fuck bro 🥺

THERE'S ONLY BEEN ONE BLADE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh i do not care for this wheat field nope.

the blade/laura teamup has fixed me tbh

OH COME ON MR PG-13

it means i'm an x-man............................ SOB. SOBBING.

marvel's sparkle circle

Do Not Shoot The Girl ah shit well there they go

PUPPERRRRRRRRRR

wade's face i'm YOWLING

i see cowboy deadpool and i need to know a whole lot more babygirl

"hold please" "ugh god"

YOU REALLY ARE GOD'S PERFECT IDIOT AREN'T YOU

the casual walk with the dog yeah that tracks doesn't it

THE COOOOOOOOOWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL

WOLVIE DID THE LEAP

you didn't lie... you made an educated wish...

i got nothing. i got nothing. gimme this. BAWLING.

THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER???

WOLVIE RESCUEEEEEEEEEEE

the ab nod holy shit

uhhh no! sir.

HEEEEE HATH RISEN BABYGIRL! FUCK.

PUT. your greasy tits away.

SHWARMA

see ya bub!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD MOTHERFUCKER screaming

FUCK YEAH THEY GOT MY GIRL LAURA BACK

logan holding a dog and laura smiling while petting the dog... yeah that fixed me i think

[xidaer]

hello dear giftee. u may have noticed i've gone a bit quiet, and i have, bc life got terribly busy all of a sudden. i have started to write your gift, and i fully intend to see it finished, but i'm afraid it'll need a little more time to bloom. i hope you understand, and won't be mad ._. i'll let the admin-dearest know at once. gentle holidays to u ! <]:j

Oh honey!!!!

Last year it took me like 6 extra months to finish and I went radio silent out of guilt and anxiety. I finally posted and was super apologetic, but both the admin and my giftee were SO GRACIOUS about it!!!

So basically, take as much time as you need! No guilt or anxiety necessary- and I’m most certainly NOT mad!!!

PLUS! If you you want to send ANOTHER stocking stuffer? (cuz between the feather and the comments on my stories you've already given me SO MUCH!) Send me the lists what the numbers meant! It will give me a dice rolling prompt generator and that would be SUCH A GREAT PRESENT.

In short, You’re loved darling! Happy Holidays!!!

[usagisbanexd]

+ SUPER SOLDIER SAILOR STARS #08 * _) _) >>C===3 :-* Kawaii Slash Lovers Collide Cosmic Paradise // Sailor Moon/Pokémon/Potterverse Altfic Crossover, CHAPTER 1.0.008

Fanfic. LGBT+. Mature.

1.0.008 SAILORGANYMEDE RESCUES MAKO~CHAN FROM HELLFIRE INFERNO // GANY IN THE DESERT BORN FROM HIS MOTHER MAKOTO

“I love your tongue,” says Ganymede, watching Mako from her ill-gotten vantage, watching as she picks a flower for springtime, watching her green felt velvet couture space dress skirt flap like a flag longing against her leg. Mako the god. Mako the justice warrior. Mako with the smile.

        All the little wives of Jupiter dance through her fingers in waves of blossoming straw. ‘We love you, goddess!’ says the Daisy, thinking in her own green mind to hide her roots from prying claws. No love of Jupiter’s alone should make it out alive. Her tenderness does strangle us at root.

        Ganymede longs for love, the crown Furuhata-san wears the milkman’s cap, neighborhood cuck, neighborhood madman, neighborhood hero, arboreal wheat, weatherbeaten, his hands sweaty on the knife, planting flowers of his own, seeing clearly through time it is her voice which calls him, her voice through fair Ganymede. Come to Jupiter, she says, winnowy, arboreal, helium-high, hysterical aerial Erica.

        “I’m the flower in the pot on the kitchen sill! Teehee!” says Ganymede to Motoki’s brain, and inside Jupiter’s own mind Minerva’s born splitting from the tissues like the bloom of a gun from a metal spout, the bloom of bullets grandly arrayed like a symphony in soaked and slobbering flesh tone. Motoki masturbates. Jupiter calls.

        “Hello,” says Motoki.

        “Moto-chan!” says Haruka, diving her nose in where it doesn’t belong. The world is ending and Makoto needs to make a phone call, needs to knit a another bootie for a friend’s cousin’s baby, needs to rearrange the flower pots on her sill, ninety five little senshi all in a row, little cartoon-faced flowers cooing always to their mistress ‘Stay! It’s a fright to go outside!’ Makoto feels it in her gut. Motoki stays.

        “Hi,” he says, his voice estranged, her weirdness palatable in the gloom. Why ninety-five monsters? Why not ninety-five birds?

        They like weeds ensnare me to this earth, thinks Makoto, her eye upon Ganymede, her youngest and most gorgeous rose, vestigial blood vestigial perfume on the color of his outermost petal, a song against his cheek, so delicate, so beaut, so unresponsive to the touch of men. So monks do climb their towers in prayer. So boxing gloves. So charm bracelets. So Makoto’s bane, playing a timpany. Ami knits her guts together like a glass Circe from a metal enclosure, presaging famine. Does Galaxia sleep? Usagi is gone. Does she forgive? We are all dead. Such beautiful flowers. This is how we live. The waters of the twin rivers, such beautiful senshi, beckon us onward. Elysia’s hair is everywhere, and we the fair Elysians surfeit on small things that dine on birds of paradise, dine forever on warriors’ gloom, live entombed, liberate that which hearts consume.

        She clears her throat.

        “Hi,” he says again.

        “Hi,” it’s more than high it’s sigh. Relief. Love. Hearts in eyes. Stars on shoulders, a capelet ascending, beautiful dresses handmade in European workshops, couturiers bustling downstairs, pearls like nipples on the breasts of satin jackets. She feels so lush her stomach muscles weaken. She could crumple. She could fold. Motoki and his adorable eyes take all.

        “Call me,” says Moto.

        “You did. I mean, I did,” says Mako, and Ganymede topples from his sill and shatters his pot, red baked plaster cracked in four gorgeous pieces on the floor. “Oh!” says Mako, and Gany’s broken body like a hyacinth unfolds death on the floor around her, and jungle music plays.

        “I can help,” says Motoki. “Let me come over.”

        “No,” says Mako, nervous, heart brimming, butterfly winged heart trilling, ascending, lifting her off the ground, and Gany the ancient rose with two foot roots curls around her ankle a beautiful sandal and tugs her back down to earth. ‘Go heavily,’ he says, ‘with guilt.’

        Mako holds the phone between the divet in her shoulderblade and the twinkle of her jawbone, bent neck straining, and says in a lowered voice: “I think I’m going insane.”

        “You are,” says Moto. “But I can help. I’ve been through it. I’m a senshi.”

        ‘Oh,’ she mouths, her lips wobbling, the phlegm in her throat catching the gold come up from her gut, all her children swallowed. Should she eat the rose? No, but he still loves her dear, a song recorded in her ear. We all drown. We’re all okay. Peacetime, even into death, even through death. We’re sailor senshi! We live again.

        “I love you,” says Moto. “Seriously.”

        “I don’t know where I’ve been,” she says.

        “You do,” says Moto. “To hell.”

        “I’ve spent all day watering this flower. This single flower. The other ones tell me he’s the most important, and I know from the blood in his eye he doesn’t know what to do. He calls me Father, then Son, then he thinks I’m a messenger from beyond the cosmos. Is Usagi. . . dead?”

        “Yeah,” says Moto. “I told you I’m a sensh.”

        Her carpet pales. The rose unblooms, winding up to her skirt and blossoming between her legs, Marilyn-powered, must and perfume, the rapture of a little witch’s innocent afternoon at tea, no one there to judge, no one to lay hands on, no raised voice. She’s never fought a boy nor girl in her life.

        “I know,” says Moto. “I read your mind.”

        “He is the rose,” says Gany from her womb, and she shoves a hand between her legs to snatch him from where he does not belong.

        “You don’t know anything about me,” says Mako.

        “Yeah, I do,” says Moto. “I’m Gany.”

        She wretches petals from her skirt, the flower bleeding each bright bleeding page through fabric into fabric, an ascended being mounting a staircase of time. She feels her womb underpowered, bleeding, a throb, an ancient ensign, and thinks of the moss of Ami’s hair, her little bare chest at the swimming pool, that dirge that plays for water spilled, her mother smelling sweetly buying roses from nearby the check-out counter. Motoki is the check-out boy, robed in a green apron, robed in a smile, and Gany dances a little sunshine melody, the dandelion, the far-off exotica, the flower without heart, the wicked weed, the pink leafed blooming rose. She calls to Io, to Calliope, to Annie Oakley, come presageth me. I am your king. Jupiter fighting moon! Jupiter light! Jupiter rolling thunder! She feels the power in the ring at her fist, feels the electric mandorla a swirling perfect symmetrical egg around her being. Why is she wearing her fuku? Why are there flowers in her hair? Why is she marrying Motoki? Why does she miss her mother, long to be at her breast, and also in her father’s arm, a little babe suckling at the altar of Apollyon, god after time? Does she think of children? Does she think of future? Is her moon in Leo? Does she, God forbid, need a Tarot reading? Hoary winds, hoary frost, protect the floors, deaden every leaf. There are ninety four. Ninety four beautiful flowers. Which one should Motoki take from her?

        “I’m not here to take anything,” he says, and picks up the basket.

        “You’re here for my womb,” she says, stuttering, clamped, iridescent. In Mommy’s skirts she’d be okay, and she and Mommy both would blow away with the wind. Does she love me? I long for her. I am become Sappho, writing at the seashore. Can he hear me?

        “Yeah,” says Moto, and in his voice her father plays guitar.

        “I love you!” she says, and in the wist of his gravity she moves an orbit plunging into asymmetry, a perfect picture taken would reveal that all is stillness, all are God, the Buddha holds the answer. Light a candle. Is it Christmas? I love love and her soft hours. Where is Venus, my Mina, my idol? She sings me songs in the shower, sits on the toilet cutting her leg with cheap razors while I dance in bubbles with my arms outstretched to same God laughing. Were only Motoki in that shower, then Mina’s smile itself would be complete. And I ache now, halfling, Galadriel, gone west. Am I a wind? What was his name? Was he an element? I remember another life.

        “Oh,” she says, remembering. No suspense, but hammers in her guts, all her children rebelling, and Gany on the floor throbbing, his petals bent, each of them a little mystery, a little fortune cookie. Where is Moto? Perfect man.

        “I’m here,” he says. “She’s dying.”

        “No,” she says. “He’s all right.”

        “I know what he’s doing,” says Moto. “I’m coming over.”

        She rubs him softly and specializes in arboretums. They dream of planting him there some day, when he has outsized his little pot. But secretly she knows she’ll never give him away, not while Calliope whispers.

        “Phobos! Deimos! Ascend!” says Rei from the master’s terrace, and Makoto feels her shoulders straighten, braced in metal, iron tombs, each assisted thing come together to form a mighty statue of Jupiter Capitolinus ruling all. Sagittarian arrow loosed from its shaft, Sagittarian arrow streaking, weeping, flown from shaft to bend the air and pry the wound in Ami’s leg, the wound from which she sprouts asymmetra, ugly thing, friendless, unmoving. Mako knows loneliness.

        “Moto-chan,” says Mako, spinning. Each flower a winking paradise, each little cartoon head swaying to the soft static from the radio, alternative, American, distant music. And somewhere someone Mina drops the bomb on Japan, American girl, blond-haired blue-eyed, uptown girl, seventh sister, presaging doom. Mako watches it descend, eyes wide, and all goes white, and Gany vomits a petal, and she kneels down and considers his blood.

        “I’m here,” says Moto. “But I don’t love you. Nor him.”

        “Evil,” says Mako, her palm tightening under her fingers, and the rose inside, and the rose’s limp head a dead emperor, a little liar, a Gany, strung up from inside, knowing no song will save her, him or her or them or it. Never a rose but color. And ninety four brothers with vaginas to take his place. All lovers of Jupiter, all the fairest. Pick another flower.

        “No,” says Mako, and in her palm she shocks his spine to straightness. “Hold on, Gany-chan!”

        “Imaginary friends,” says far-tongued Beryl, penis-headed, a torpedo sailing from Korea across the sea, Korean-born, a witch in new clothing, thinking all there is to think about life and death and togetherness.

        “Slow down,” says Elios to Shingo, Elios to Mamoru, Shingo to the basketball bouncing away from his little hand. He used to be good at HORSE, better than his brother, his lover, his red-haired famine-brained stepchild ingrained in the neighborhood ways. Shingo dies, too. Gany dies. Mako arrives at the edge of a precipice and throws him off. He falls, but through her frown, still in the kitchen, nothing happens. Moto, come.

        “Do you love me, goddess queen?” says Shingo to the ape, and Mako rests assured unsure, the balance of a half-man, centaurifugal, half-thing, double-breasted, barrel-chested, man. Her shoulders stricken to the board of a crucifix. Man. Unwoman thing. Tall. Limber. Do you play basketball? Hee. He, not hee, girl things, a ladder ascending, and her beautiful flower who speaks in weepy music to the stillness of the future blown inside her iris dying on the floor in nothing but a rag, the water she had planned to feed his gullet, and together two princesses through the world plunging separate from one another and lose their fingers in the vortex. Alice in the rabbit hole. Goddess-born. She feels nothing. Her tears like ice, like symbol, like Japanese forgetfulness. She drank from that river. She forgot Nipon. The bomb dropped. Didn’t it?

        “I’m coming,” says Moto from the receiver, but it’s on the floor, and he the man, the young man silver-headed, is flying down the highway in Danburite clothing, a mask at his head, feeling cool, listening to music, knowing nothing will save her from the divorce impeded by time. Wait. I can do it. I can think. He thinks all things are connected. That gives him a lever. He knows. He pulls it. She doesn’t. She thinks. She thinks everything. And Gany pulls from her her nutrients like a glass thing breaking always into the wind, beautiful monster spinning out of time, all the light collected at his skirt, blossoming kindness, most beautiful satellite, crippled appendage, Mako’s favorite skirt.

        What does Gany say?

        “Water,” says Gany to Mako. “I weep,” little voice, pathetic voice, a puppy’s voice, weeping over the squeak of a toy, taken unawares. “Call Ami.”

        “Shhh,” says Mako, and to her breast she holds the rose. She’ll give it to Ami. Give it to Ami and never look back. Give it to Ami and brave the sole, the mothering sole, the way her mother looks at her, a Japanese manga character come to life, so beautiful in raiment, brown-sleeved raiment, flower petals embroidered on the skirts of her aprons, beautiful music in the foreground like fingers groping blind at all their faces, family game night, a time before childhood, all these things should make her cry. She never cries. Gany cries. Confusion, he says, and she listens. Confusion, she says. He listens. His name is Mako. He punches.

        Satoshi on the mantle says confusion. She loves Onyx. She loves to plant a flower on Onyx, in his hair, watch him crack and blossom into Hindu garlands like the thing evolved through space. And Seiya and Yaten and the Goddess and Haruka and Mamoru all dance and play outside her head like hoop skirts thinking about what to do with the future. Does she know she can be anything? Will any man love her? Will she find a future knowing from the past he arcs incredible husking lightning to her door?

        And Gany the eternal child sleeps on, twisted root, youngest flower, twisted little slipper, broke-bent little ankle, the slipper’s son, Gany presageth famine, and Galaxia wakes from a terrifying dream, her hair all undone, and Gany comforts her, a little boy on his knees on the cushion, a little princess in his heart, beautiful hair, bows of braids of tendons sinew-streaking down forever from the mountain on which he was wedded to the god. Does she remember? She too drank from the fountain of eternity, she too went to heaven. But his earth is like a cracked and crinkled loam, pock-sparked, little minerals, little Danburites, and she his mother incest-laced the only water offered.

        Danburite hates Motoki. He sighs.

[kalique]

i am not reading the freaky incest porn jupiter ascending fanfics. not really my thing. but you had best believe i am scrolling past them and nodding at each one so so respectfully

[another-one-bites-the-chipaguasu]

Am I going to read Jupiter Ascending fanfic?

[anodyne-sunflower]

Love me like you do (Chapter 30)-Balem series

A/N: Woooow, it’s been a minute. To the few who probably still read this, thank you. I hope you enjoy this labor of love, forgive me for the long time between updates lol 🤷🏻‍♀️

MOOD MUSIC: Is that alright? By Lady Gaga

***

“I do not waste my own time, little bird...” The gravity of his tone rang through your ears, but it was the expression etched into his features that truly drove the weight of his words home. You hadn’t spent months apart in peace, that much was evident, but you had nursed your own broken heart back to some semblance of normalcy. To see him now, his usually stern eyes mixed with more emotion than you thought him capable of...it destroyed whatever neutrality you had created for yourself back here on earth.

So you sat there, in this palpable silence, hoping beyond hope that Balem would find the words you couldn’t. That would be asking far too much, though, wouldn’t it? Knowing he was never a man to cater his actions to others. Your eyes decided then, to take it upon themselves to simply stare his way, nails pinching your bed sheets as if that motion could somehow calm your nerves. All he did was stand there in this cryptic state, face turned from you now and gazing out the window. It lacked the view of his own throne room, but he still found a way to make that effort.

“Stop...” You managed to meekly call out, courage seeming to disappear as he, once again, stared back at you. It was a painful gaze to witness, and there was this sudden pang of guilt washing over you. You hardly deserved it, that was evident, but it tortured you all the same. Balem was just as much to blame as you, possibly even more so, but seeing that lonely look in his eyes...it caused a loathing towards yourself you didn’t care to carry. “Stop looking at me like that...” your teeth bit down on your lip, worrying away as you no longer held the fortitude to carry on this staring contest. “I said, stop.”

Your breath caught in your chest, that heavy feeling weighing you down enough to the verge of tears. How dare he come here? You thought, knowing every warning you had given him that day you parted, fell on deaf ears. Balem was obviously not one to take orders from others, but you had believed the bit of respect he held towards you would be enough to keep him away. Did he even realize how distressing his visit was? How easily he tore down those defenses you had put up the second he left? How you wanted to scream at him, to push his presence away and reprimand him for every horror he made you witness. Any sane human would do the same, and yet...

You heard his footsteps, each one just as poised as the last, bringing him closer to the one person he dared to care for. Every instinct in you begged to run, to shrink away into the bed and pander to the ache of your own heart’s protection. But, that wasn’t awarded to you and by the time you even felt the compulsion to move, he was already in front of you. He stood tall at your bed, hands clasped behind his back as his eyes peered cautiously down at you. You felt so small sitting before him, like many of those who came to him for aid in all matters back on Jupiter. You hadn’t felt this paralyzed? No...ineffective, that was it, before him in so long. It caused your heart to stir, every beat seeming louder than before until he had the audacity to touch you. It felt fleeting, even though his fingers still held your chin with such a delicate and oddly doting manner. You wanted to look anywhere but him, and while you had that power to do so, his being alone had stolen that from you in ways you could not decipher.

With an easy lift of his hand, you were staring up at him now. Both of your gazes locked defiantly on one another, as if this shared heartache had been the start of some foreign conflict between you. It was an indescribable emotion, the tears welling in your eyes only adding to the tension. You felt that air trapped in your throat, never allowing you a single second to deny him, even when he had the nerve to finally speak to your request.

“Never.” His thumb slid across the slight expanse of your lip, admiring the full pout he had come to crave for so long. Every muscle in his body ached to do more, to perhaps even close that tiny, insignificant gap between you. It took all his self control to fight, to grit his teeth and seethe out his only demands. “I came for you,” he spoke with such emphasis on ‘you’. “and I intend to leave with you.” As if to drive that point home.

With the last shred of dignity he held in him, he knelt down to your level. Giving you those seconds between to follow his every move. You wondered then, if he could hear your heart, beating wildly in your chest and debating every outcome of his actions. Would he do it? Would he throw away all conflict and simply take what he had wanted, or would he realize...that whatever this was, this moment, could be a mistake? One there would be no coming back from.

“Balem,” your mouth ran dry, the tip of your tongue coming out to wet your lips as he seemed to lean closer. Ignoring all logic and instead, for the first time in his life, listening to his heart.

His gaze swept across your features, eyes growing darker with every detail he took in. There was no stopping him, he was well aware of his own limitations, and you were always one of them. “Silence.” He urged, as if your voice was interrupting his admiration of you. “Little bird.” Balem cooed, fingertips tracing over your cheek and finally cupping it. Prior to your entrance, he had entertained many ideas of how this night would go. Losing his resolve this early on, was not one of them. But, he refused to berate himself for that. You were his reason to come here, what should it matter how it all begins again.

“We can’t...” You begged him, watching the corner of his lip turn into the beginnings of a smile. It all but captured your attention, making his advances so much harder to resist. And yet, what was there to combat against, besides that of the undying affections of a man who you so wanted.

You released the breath you had been holding, mirroring his movements now as he dared to lean closer. It was like a pull, gravitating towards him with every breath you took. You had began wondering why you ever left to begin with, why any of this even mattered when all you could do is enjoy it. It was always in these intimate moments you recognized a man who was capable of good, even if he couldn’t see that himself. There was no pain in his touch, no hate in his eyes, and you almost forgot the cruelty with which he held his reign.

“Do not fight it.” Balem whispered, reveling in the proximity of your bodies. He could possibly count the days since he held you, and all those lonely nights had only caused him to wish all the more for this. Your skin felt warm beneath his fingertips, soft and inviting, and the tilt of your head provoked him forward, ending that distance between you.

“Ah,” it was a soft gasp, barely a release of breath as his lips brushed yours deviously, ending that long, torturous desire you had built over the months. It wasn’t even a proper kiss yet, and you already found yourself unraveling before him.

His nose bumped yours, eyes half lidded as he gave himself a second to register this was real. Nothing had changed, you were still heaven to be against, pleasurable to touch and devote himself to. It was a miracle he hadn’t ignored your request to stay apart sooner. “I have longed for this...” Balem’s breath ghosted over your pout, earning a shiver and slight whine from you. It was a pathetic reaction, you believed, but one he absolutely adored. “For too many nights.”

“Balem-“ He never gave you the chance to concede his point, and the second you parted your lips to speak, he pressed his to yours. It was, quite possibly, the very end of you.

Your bodies melded together then, both his palms coming to cup your cheeks as he moved forward and settled you both upon your bed. There was no fight from you, and frankly, you wished he’d take you then. To ravish your body and prove to you how deep his need of you ran. It was all you could do not to tear his blazer open, to loosen that damn gold tie and give in to the carnal desires urging you on. But, that would be foolish, wouldn’t it?

“Don’t stop...” and yet, your mind had other plans.

His lips molded over your own, teeth gently biting at your bottom lip as he begged entrance into your mouth. You eagerly allowed him, the slip of his tongue hot against yours as you moaned. It wasn’t a secret that you hadn’t been with anyone since leaving him, and even if you had wanted to, you were certain nothing could come close to this pleasure.

Balem kissed feverishly across your lips, only parting to travel further across your cheek and to your jawline. He nipped there, missing the delightful exclamations you used to make at the gesture. If not for the current circumstances, he’d of smirked, knowing those gasps and moans were only for him. “You’ve missed this, too.” He accused, pulling away briefly as he pressed your foreheads together. Balem observed you closely, noting the hint of guilt you held in your eyes. “Do you deny it?”

How could you? Whether you spoke a lie or told the truth, he would know. Because, you had missed it. Missed the way he seduced you, the way he kissed you and bestowed passion unlike any other. Even now, you only wanted him to continue on, to kiss you madly and make you his. “No.” You said confidently, bringing your hand up and hesitating inches before his face. But, you braved on, index finger tracing the curve of his cheekbone, and watching as he turned his cheek towards your palm.

It was strange, but no less heartwarming to watch as he closed his eyes, relief filling him as you showed him the simplest of affections. He truly was a man who wasn’t privileged to love in his long life. You almost laughed at the thought, not at his expense, but at the universes. So vast and endless, yet it’s most basic concepts lost on some. “No, I don’t deny it.” You pulled him back down, returning the passion he had kissed you with. You were certain you felt him smile into you, but the moment was fleeting, and all that was left was two people desperately trying to regain time lost.

You wrapped your arms around him, lost in the addictive motion of his lips on yours, fierce and gentle all at once as he tried to further this venture. There was no longer a doubt that you wanted him right now, and if not for his next words, you would have crumpled into his arms and given into the very thing you were frightened of.

“Return with me then, Little bird.” Balem swept his lips across your cheek, inhaling your perfume that was almost weak enough now, he would’ve missed it. But, this close...this close it was still enslaving. “Leave this all behind.”

Between the touch of his hand along your hip, and the devilishly sweet way he kissed you, you nearly fell again. Stumbling into his arms and giving him exactly what he wanted. You had to be smarter now, though, and in spite of your heart you could not pretend life would mold itself into some easy, comfortable and normal way. There was no going back, just as you presumed. Not after everything, there was no going back.

You pushed at his chest, startling the Primary as he removed himself from above you. With ease, you slipped from beneath him, quickly jumping from the bed and touching your lips as if the last few minutes were only a dream. “Why,” You paused in your speech, mind rambling along as you attempted to even figure out what had happened. Between his return, and that kiss...you had lost yourself in the ballad of it all. “I already made it clear, Balem.”

You crossed your arms, wildly going through the stages of anger, relief and yearning. He had almost had you again, grasping you dearly and enchanting you back home. Home...the thought lingered there, your own conscience going against you. It said much that you considered his palace, his planet a home. “Just,” you turned back to him, still stern and stiff as you held your composure and faced him. “Leave.” It was almost a plea, body shaking as you stared at his stoic expression, the only hint of emotion on him being the subtle way he frowned.

“I came here with a purpose,” Balem sneered, trying to reel in whatever patience he had left. “I made that clear.”

“And I made myself clear, the first time!” You screamed at him, the usual care you took not to disturb your neighbors now a second thought. “And yet,” he had some nerve. “You come back here,” With every word your voice broke, eyes stinging as you fought back the tears craving to be released. “And think all it takes to convince me back is..this!” You waved to the entire situation in front of you, the anger you directed at him mostly being for yourself. “I am not your pawn!”

Balem was furious, you could gauge that, but he merely swept a hand through his hair, eyes growing darker as he walked back towards the window. The action must have been a comfort to him, perhaps a small reminder of his home. Where he could gaze out at all his work and glory, and no one could take that from him. “You think so little of me.”

Your absence had hurt him, you were aware, because you felt the same in that regard, but perhaps for the first time you had truly heard the pain you gave him. “That’s,” you released some tension, allowing yourself to let your guard down if only for a second. “That’s not true.” Balem was many things you should have loathed in a person, but the time you spent with him, away from earth, you had grown to love him. To admire him for his intellect, his confidence, and even the way he ruled over others with little fear. His world was a picture of darkness, the greed so ingrained in all of them running amuck it even led to murder, as if that was an everyday occurrence. You couldn’t hold him to the standards of your world, but in kind, he could not hold you to his. “I wasn’t meant for-“

“Enough of this.” Balem cut you off, trying not to frighten you off or make your judgement of his character become reality. He was not apologetic about his work, or his behavior. You do not get to live the life he’s had and pretend there’s any other way. “We are not changing for each other.” He turned to you, a purpose in his gaze as he contemplated his decision. “However,” he reached carefully into his blazer, pulling free a slim black tablet, the one you often saw him carry around his alcazar. “I came here with a compromise.”

Balem sauntered towards you, keeping your gaze as he held the tablet out to you. “I will not forfeit the business I have built, nor do I ever wish to.” He could see the disappointment in your eyes, and the notion scared him. With every second that ticked by he felt himself losing you, and that was not his intentions. “And I,” You were stunning to him, even in your melancholy, he was enamored. It made his words difficult to speak, and as he stopped before you, he reached out, brushing some of your hair aside as he admired the woman he came all this way for. “And I will not forfeit you, either...”

You swallowed hard, attempting to ignore his assurances as he pushed the tablet closer to you. If you admired him for anything, it was his inflexibility to become someone new for you. There were no lies between you, no empty promises he would say to keep you by him. It was because of this, you gave him the benefit of the doubt and took his offering. “What is this?”

“My compromise.” He tapped the surface, bringing the tablet to life as it glowed and brought forth a hologram, a simple sphere with symbols you couldn’t decipher floating around it. It was only when you looked closer, you realized it’s significance.

“Earth?” You glanced back to him, confusion and wonder alike expressed on your features. He simply nodded in affirmation, fingers zooming in on the symbols and writings around it. He looked to you for a reaction, knowing the language would be lost on you.

“It’s a deed, if you will. A claim of ownership over this...planet.” Balem never fancied this world, even if his mother somehow found beauty in it. It was just another means to an end for him, but he was not so unwise to believe it didn’t hold relevance to you.

“I already know you own it.” You spat back, feeling as though he was here to remind you that every living creature on earth belong to him. Including you. It wasn’t a far fetched assumption, because he often carried that fact like some medal he was every bit proud of. So, even when he gave you that affronted look, you didn’t back down. “You’ve made that quite clear in the past, Balem. Or...would you prefer my lord?” You knew it was unfair to throw all your annoyance at him, but it was safer that way, wasn’t it? Hoping you could push him further and further until he broke this calm facade and proved to you that the man you saw him as, was the same one who could so callously slit his own brother’s throat.

“No, Little bird...” He was vexed by your behavior, every syllable that spilled from your lips baiting him to respond. For once, he kept his senses. “All of this,” Balem looked to the window, the city lights painting an almost fascinating portrait to him. There was profit in this planet, a concept he wouldn’t deny he exploited in the past, but he valued only one thing from it now. You. “It is yours.”

If he was expecting any form of surprise, you hadn’t shown it. It’s not to say that you weren’t astonished by his admission, but that you weren’t in the state of mind to believe him. A man who highly regarded all fine things to be the pinnacle of one’s ambitions, to see a human being and decide their only value is that which runs through their veins. No, finding truth in his words would not be as easy as he wished it to be. “Is this a joke?”

A fool’s question, no doubt, because the skeptical look he had bestowed on you caused a sudden guilt to wash over. Balem would be the last person in the world to have humor in him, a strange but fascinating detail you had learned in him.

“I just,” You gazed down to the tablet, the realization that this entire planet could be yours now dawning on you. It wasn’t normal to have such power, and even if he handed it over like some gift it left you confused. He may not understand the weight of this, but you did. “I can’t own a planet, Balem, okay? This isn’t an everyday, normal occurrence for us! Your people can float around and pretend negotiating livelihoods and entire ecosystems is just a game, but it’s not to me!” You held the tablet out to him, spurning his offer and making it clear you had no interest in his business. “I don’t want this, I never did.”

Balem’s eyes gazed to the screen, not even humoring you and retrieving the tablet back. “You misunderstand.” He stepped towards you, frowning when you took one back to keep the distance. If he hadn’t any pride in his own control, he’d of closed it and pinned you to that plain wall just behind, letting you know leaving this planet without you wasn’t an option. “I am not asking you to be a partner, to carry on where I have left off. You wouldn’t even know where to begin.” If he was trying not to insult you, he fell short on that end, but you allowed him his words, having already given him all of yours. “I look to this planet and I see little of worth to it, however...” He inched closer, taking solace in the fact you didn’t move away this time. “I’ve come to realize, for your own reasons, you seem to value it a great deal.”

“They’re people, Balem.” It was a concept you didn’t expect him to grasp, especially when you yourself held no family here. But, you were not without morals, and you couldn’t imagine what it would cost to lose so many to something so vain. “We may not have our own families, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world is the same.”

“Hm.” He peered down at you, humming his response in such an uncaring manner it almost made you smile bitterly. You could appeal to him all you wanted, but you knew nothing could make him understand. But, in that perhaps, you found the small sliver of kindness he held within him.

“So, then...what is this? If not for me to join you in genocide.”

“You already know.”

“I want to hear you say it.” You pressured him on, meeting his gaze with equal fervor, which appeared to make him smirk. You always were able to stand against him, even if you had feared him once, you never let it bully you down.

“It occurred to me, one day, that in my brother’s death I had inherited all he was worth. If you wish to know, it was barely anything.” Balem moved away, hands clasped tightly behind him as he went back to staring at the night sky. There was still no remorse or regret in his heart, not that you ever expected him to mourn his brother. “I had an unlimited supply of planets at my grasp, each one capable of returning my business to its peak. He offered me nothing that I didn’t already have, you see.”

“So, you didn’t take them?”

“I burned his inheritance to ashes.” Balem turned to look back at you, satisfied that your attention was fully grasped now. “It meant nothing to me, to have a few more sources of Regenex at my disposal. In that same breath, I decided,” His thought turned to the tablet in your hands, clutched so tightly he began to see you register his words. “I could part with one more.”

You stood there in bewilderment, holding back your sigh of relief and endless gratitude he no doubt sought from you. His courtesy to give you such a prize, to give you peace of mind that no one else would perish at his hands, was also so violently mixed with the realization that this was only one planet, and he had no intention of entirely changing that. You, had to be comfortable with such knowledge, and know that whatever choice you made, it would be yours alone.

“Is this bribery, then? To get me to believe this is all worth it?”

“It’s a peace offering.” He stated flatly, giving you his word that all else mattered very little right now, except this moment. “Should you say yes or no, is of no consequence. Earth is yours, whether you will it or not. I cannot...I will not, touch it.”

“Even if I do not go back with you?”

“Even then, Little bird...” Though he seemed visibly hurt by that prospect, he did not speak on it. He took his defeat in grace, should that occur, and it was inspiring to witness. All this time you had come to know him, to love him, he always found ways to attain his desires. Perhaps, now he truly meant to put you before all else.

“Why?”

You heard him audibly sigh, his face growing cold as he tried to ignore the question you had posed to him. He could debate the answer to that inquiry for ages to come, but he feared the time given to him in this moment would not last as long.

“In you I have found purpose, and I fear...that without you,” He struggled to confess his thoughts, the ability to feel so strongly for one person overwhelming him to a point he did not desire to continue. But, you looked at him, eyes searching for the words or meaning you possibly already knew he was exerting himself to explain. “Without you...” He crossed the room towards you, gripping the tablet free of your hands and mindlessly tossing it to the bed. You barely had a second to react, his palm already cupping your neck as he bent down to kiss you. It was fiercer this time, his lips pressed so heavy against yours it almost felt bruising. You whimpered weakly against him, gasping for air as he released you from his hold and stared down at you. His breath was labored, lips swollen from the force of his kiss it only added to his charm. “Without you, I fear I may lose that purpose.”

His hand strayed to your cheek, thumb caressing your skin while he simply admired your beauty. Balem could not fathom the idea of leaving here now, and should you pretend further that you did not wish that as well...he was not certain he was equipped to handle that rejection.

“Return with me, my Little bird. No harm will ever come to you, you will want for nothing.”

“Balem-“ You reached up, gripping his hands in yours and brushing his knuckles softly as he awaited an answer. You felt the weight of the world upon your shoulders, every logical argument in you being beaten away by your heart’s admirations.

“You have me in the palm of your hands, Y/N.” Balem’s confession broke you, made even sweeter by the soft whisper of your name on his lips. You wanted to, admittedly, to go with him and be by his side until the end of your days.

“I don’t know what to say...”

His forehead came to rest on yours, eyes closed as he urged you to say what you both wanted. “You do.”

***

A/N: The end~ ....no, I’m kidding there’s one more chapter lol I should just leave it there, though. Cliffhangers, yay!