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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

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The Magic Circle

A JSE Fanfic

Hey, who’s excited for my first non-AU piece in a long time? Who’s excited for my first one-shot in like forever? If you’re excited for either of those things, then this is the piece for you :D I took some inspiration from Marvin’s video on Halloween to come up with this. Here, Marvin meets a magic group for the first time. Let’s see what happens :)

It’s a bright summer day outside. The sun is still high in the sky, despite it being almost five o’clock. There are people walking around the city streets, either going somewhere or even just taking a walk. Birds are chirping on top of the power lines and in the trees planted along the sidewalk. And Marvin was locked inside his room trying not to break something in frustration.

“Oh my goooood.” He puts his head down on the desk surface with a bit more force than necessary. It hurts, but he doesn’t mind. “Fuuuuuck offffff.” The desk before him is lit up with a lamp, despite there being sufficient light coming from the window. The lamp shines down on a laptop, open to a Google Docs document, and a leatherbound book, open to blank pages. Marvin drops his pen down on the desk. “Fuck it.” And with that, he pushes his chair back and heads over to the room’s door, unlocking it and heading outside.

He goes down the hall to the stairs, then down to the first floor. For a moment, he stops and blinks. His eyes feel...weird. Well, it makes sense. He’s spent almost all day staring at a computer screen or a blank page. The only time he wasn’t was when he was going to the bathroom. That probably wasn’t good for his eyes.

According to the wall clock in the downstairs hallway, he’s been trying for nearly five hours. That explains why he’s so hungry. Marvin heads into the kitchen and starts looking through the cabinets for something quick but filling.

Someone knocks on the doorframe behind him. Marvin jumps, and spins around. JJ is standing there. He waves. Hello, Marvin. Did you finish?

Marvin snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I wish. I’ve done like...three pages. God. Fuck.”

Oh dear...JJ frowns. What’s wrong?

“I dunno.” Marvin rubs his eyes. “I just keep getting distracted. Opening up YouTube and stuff. God, it’s just so boring. Why do I even need to write it all down in a book? All my spells and shit are saved online.”

Some people are sticklers for tradition, JJ points out. But anyway, maybe you should take a break. You haven’t eaten anything, have you?

“Uh...no. That’s why I’m here.” Marvin resumes rummaging through the cabinets. “Do we have any crisps? I’m thinking of making nachos.”

You’re not just going to eat nachos, you haven’t had anything since you woke up at ten. JJ walks over and slowly pushes the door to the cabinet closed. Here, go sit down in the dining room. I’ll make you something.

“C’mon, JJ, you don’t have to. You were probably doing something else, don’t stop that for me.”

I was going to make dinner anyway, JJ shrugs. I know you don’t eat until later, usually, but please make an exception. You can’t work on that grimoire if you collapse from hunger.

Marvin sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.” He bumps his shoulder against JJ’s—a sign of affection that could easily be mistaken for clumsiness—and heads into the dining room.

He wishes he’d never found out about the greater magical community. Ever since he had, all it meant were problems. He had to learn all about the structure of this community, about how this organization called the ABIM made laws, about how certain spells were supposed to be regulated, about how things like wands, crystal balls, and other magical aides were supposed to be made certain ways. Marvin had always done his own thing. He didn’t exactly think he was the only person in the world with magic—after all, if that was the case, who wrote down all the spells he found online? But it hadn’t exactly registered that they were probably organized somehow, and that he should probably go look for others. Thanks to his total lack of searching for other magicians, the ABIM hadn’t realized he existed until about two months ago.

But now they know. And Marvin has to learn and keep up with a bunch of rules and regulations. The one that’s giving him the most trouble is the existence of a “grimoire.” Apparently, magicians are required to write down all the spells they know, and keep them in one place. And no, the document where Marvin had copy-pasted all the spells he’d found online doesn’t count. So now he’s spent the last week or so struggling to transcribe the online document into the book he’d purchased. Progress is...slow. Marvin just can’t focus on something as unstimulating as copying words down. There’s not even any new information to process.

Luckily, eating dinner helped him get some energy back. But when it’s all said and done, and he pushes away his plate, he’s dreading going back upstairs to try and ultimately fail some more. “Thanks, JJ,” he says.

You already said so, and you’re still welcome, JJ says. Then he pauses. Is there anyone who could help you with this? Other magicians lately?

Marvin groans. “Yeah, I guess I know some, but...I don’t wanna.”

Yes, we know, you’re very stubborn, JJ signs patiently.

“I can figure this out,” Marvin insists. “I can do things on my own!”

Except for making dinner, apparently.

Marvin can’t help but laugh. “Ah, ya got me there.” He sighs, and stares absently out the window. “Look, all the magicians I’ve met so far are part of this government group. And I don’t like them.”

Well, if you ask them for help, perhaps your opinion on that would change, JJ suggests.

“Well I wouldn’t be doing this in the first place if it wasn’t for their stupid fucking law!” Marvin snaps. Then he winces. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just...tired.”

JJ nods. Maybe you should stop for the night. It could be easier in the morning.

“Maybe.”

And also, if you keep getting distracted, have you tried putting on music? Or perhaps doing something with your spare hand while you write? That helps me.

“Maybe.” Marvin’s still uncertain.

JJ pushes his chair back and stands up. Also, can you please do the dishes?

“What?! But you cooked!”

Exactly, and we both ate it, so it’s only fair we both do something about it.

“Oh come on, I’m all tired, please?”

JJ merely folds his arms and stares at Marvin.

“Alright, fine,” Marvin relents. “I’ve been sitting all day, might as well do something a bit active.”

Oh thank you! JJ says, beaming.

“Heh, act like you didn’t twist my arm,” Marvin mutters, shaking his head affectionately.

———————

Later that night, Marvin finds he’s having trouble going to sleep. He keeps thinking about JJ’s suggestion, the one about asking other magicians for help. Sure, he isn’t exactly fond of the ABIM magicians he’s met so far. But maybe someone else...then again, perhaps the problem with transcribing his spells is just with him, and not with the actual subject matter.

Still, it can’t hurt to get a second opinion, right? But how to find the magicians?

An idea starts to form in his mind. Marvin gets out of bed and walks over to the desk. His laptop is still set up from that day. He powers it on. The time on the computer clock reads 11:20pm. Wow, he’d only been trying to get to sleep for an hour, he thought it was longer. Anyway, he goes back to the document of his spells, searching through them for one specific spell.

Yes, there it is. The title is “Magic Minds,” a tracking spell he’d recently picked up. It’s supposed to be able to guide a magician to other magicians. Marvin hasn’t used it yet, since he had no real reason to. He didn’t want to run into magicians before, but why not now?

Marvin grabs his phone from where it was charging, and quickly changes out of pajamas and into regular clothes. He pauses, then also grabs his cape from his closet. There’s no real reason to wear it, but it would make him feel a bit better. And with all this, he heads downstairs and outside.

The spell is easy enough to cast. He’s done tracking spells before, and they all require the same basic steps. An incantation or a few gestures, then you follow whatever visual cue the spell uses to find your target.

He turns his wand over in his hands, flicking it upward, downward, side to side. Green sparks left behind by the movements make a cross, +, hovering in the air. Technically he could have used his hands, but he likes the wand. And with the cross sign hovering there, Marvin whispers a word, and blows on the middle of the cross. A wisp of green light dances out from the breath, and hits the cross. From the spot of impact, the cross turns from green to white, and falls down to be horizontal, parallel to the ground. It spins, reorienting itself, then one leg of the cross turns red as the cross settles, pointing somewhere. Marvin heads in that direction.

The cross acts as a compass, pointing in one direction. He hopes it’s not too far away. People would think it’s weird, seeing one guy with a magic compass in a cape wandering around the city at night. But unfortunately, it turns out to be far enough that he regrets not taking the bus. Then he remembers that the buses don’t run this late at night, and regrets not doing this in the daytime. How is he simultaneously the most impulsive and least impulsive person he knows?

He makes his way to a section of the city full of identical, red-bricked terrace houses. The compass starts glowing brighter. That must mean he’s getting closer. Though, looking around and seeing nothing but residential buildings around, he’s not sure he wants to break in to someone’s house. This situation doesn’t exactly call for it. He’ll probably just write down the address.

The compass flickers, drawing him out of his train of thought. It locks onto one direction, flares brightly, and then dies. Marvin growls, frustrated. This isn’t the time for the spell to fail!

“You couldn’t have waited to put it on?”

Marvin jumps a bit at the voice, and ducks into the nearest alley way. He glances around, and sees a pair of people on the other side of the street, walking. Oddly enough, one of them is wearing a black cloak. No...it can’t be this easy...

“Oh, who’s out to see it?” a different voice says. “It’s late.”

“It’s a busy city, you’re just lucky no one’s out in this section,” the first voice snaps.

The pair walks up to one of the houses, standing on the doorstep. They continue to whisper to each other, too quiet for Marvin to hear on the other side of the street. After a while, the door opens, and the two of them disappear inside.

Strange...Marvin walks out of the alleyway, staring at the house on the other side of the street. What’s this all about? He glances around, making sure there are no cars or people coming, then runs across the street, stopping outside the house. He pauses, then glances into the window quickly. The inside doesn’t look any different from an average house, but he’s not sure since he ducks away quickly so nobody inside will notice him. Though strangely, there aren’t any people inside, even though there must have been at least three. He glances back in, just to make sure they aren’t anywhere.

It’s then that he notices something strange. The image through the window is...shimmering. Like a heat wave in the air. But the glass isn’t warped or anything that would cause that effect. On a whim, Marvin presses a finger to the window pane.

And surprisingly, the window appears to shiver. A wave of warm yellow light ripples out from the point of contact, just like water across the surface of a still pond. Slowly, the effect ends, and once it does, Marvin can see people gathered in the living room. And they’re all wearing black cloaks.

What was this? A magic gathering? Marvin’s curiosity grabs a hold of him. He has to get inside. But how?

He gets out his phone, looking through the spells he has gathered again. There should be an invisibility one here somewhere. He hadn’t used it since his days as a stage magician, but he must still have it. Though it takes a while of scrolling, he does eventually find it. It’s just an incantation, but it requires the magician to use absolute focus as long as they want to remain invisible. He always had trouble with that part, which is why he gave up on using it as soon as his career ended. Until now, he thought it was only good for escape tricks.

Scanning the incantation a couple times to make sure he knows it, Marvin takes a deep breath. He puts his phone back, then rings the doorbell and quickly whispers the incantation. A rush of cool flows over him, like suddenly walking out of a heated building into a cold outside, and when he next looks down, he can’t see his own body. He gasps in triumph, but then he sees his body flicker, and returns to concentrating on staying invisible.

The door opens, and a man in a cloak looks around. Marvin ducks past him, and luckily just barely avoids brushing against him. “Hello?” the man calls. A few moments pass, and the man shakes his head and closes the door.

Marvin finds himself standing in a living room, decorated in warm colors. At least ten people are gathered, all wearing black cloaks, though it appears they’re wearing regular street clothes under them. There’s a coffee table in the middle of the room, with a few various desserts lined up on it. A low buzz of chatter fills the air.

“What was it, Callisto?” a woman asks.

The man who opened the door shakes his head. “Nobody was there. Probably some kids’ prank.”

“In the middle of the night?” the woman asks doubtfully.

“You don’t know this neighborhood,” the man—Castillo—grumbles.

“You should have taken the cloak off before answering!” Someone else says.

“Shut up Basil, nobody would’ve cared,” Castillo snaps.

Marvin walks closer into the gathering, trying not to be distracted by the various conversations. It was difficult. Words kept sneaking into his awareness despite his best efforts. No, stay invisible. Stay invisible. Complete focus.

“Why does everyone keep bringing desserts to the meeting?” A woman nearby complains.

“Because it tastes fucking good, duh,” another woman next to her says.

“Can we get started already?” asks a man. “Hey Castillo! Everyone’s here, right? Can we get started?”

“Jeez, who lit the fire under your pants, Leo?” Someone mutters.

“Hey, I’m only pointing out that it’s almost midnight, Lily,” Leo says. “We’re running out of time!”

“Alright, Leo’s right, we’re getting close to the time,” Castillo sighs. “Alright, listen up everyone! We’re heading down to the basement to get started!”

A wave of chatter breaks out, and everyone files out of the room. Marvin rushes to the side in order to avoid anyone bumping into him. He watches silently as they all move into the hall and then down a set of stairs. What are they doing? He hesitates, then follows cautiously. A bunch of people in cloaks heading down to a basement for some sort of ritual? Every movie, book, and game ever says that’s a shady thing and should not be checked out. Yet he’s so curious. Is this what other magicians do?

The staircase isn’t too long, and it opens up into a large, wide room. Marvin was expecting a concrete floor and visible rafters, but it looks more like an entertainment room. The walls were painted a pale yellow, the floor was mostly carpeted, there were sofas and chairs and even one of those huge beanbags. It’s lit up by lightbulbs mounted directly into the ceiling, which makes it look just like any other household room. The only thing different is a square section of dark hardwood floor with a circle drawn on it in, well, what looks like salt. A few tall candles sit around the edges of the circle, in alternating purple and orange colors.

Marvin walks closer to the circle. There are some symbols drawn around its edge, also in salt. He’s surprised to realize he doesn’t recognize any of them. They’re not part of any runes he knows. But he does feel like he’s seen them before, somewhere else. Maybe it’s a different runic alphabet? But what does this mean?

“Hey, did you see that?” someone asks.

“See what?”

“I dunno, I thought...nevermind.”

“C’mon, Morgana.”

“Well, I just thought it looked like a person out of the corner of my eye.”

Marvin inhales sharply and goes back to concentrating on staying invisible. This is the last place he wants that to wear off.

“It’s five minutes to midnight!” Castillo calls. “Everyone in position!”

There’s a bit of awkward shuffling as the group moves to stand around the circle. A few people whisper about watching the edge of the salt to make sure it doesn’t get knocked out of place. “Someone get the lights,” Castillo says.

“Uh, shouldn’t we light the candles first so it’s not dark?” Basil points out.

“Oh, I have a lighter!” Morgana volunteers.

“Oh yeah.” Castillo nods. “Mor, you light the candles. Uh, James, you’re closest to the lights, knock them out, will you?”

“Everyone watch their hems,” Morgana says as she starts going around the edge of the circle and lighting the candles. Once they’re all lit, a man dashes over to the wall and hits the light switch, plunging the room into darkness except for the candlelight.

“Hands, everyone,” Castillo instructs. Everyone grabs their neighbors’ hands, forming a connected circle. “Two minutes to midnight. Time to start. Make sure you chime in at the right time.”

Silence falls. Marvin holds his breath, waiting for something to happen. And soon, the circle starts murmuring. No, it’s not just that, they’re actually chanting, all in a low, quiet voice. More voices join in, and they all get louder. Harmonies break off as different strings of words jump in, until the group is singing, their voices echoing off the walls.

Lines appear on the floor inside the circle. Lines of orange light, each one starting at the feet of one of the magicians, then ending at the feet of another. There were so many, connecting each magician to every other member of the group. The light coming from them grew brighter, and then—

SNAP!

Sparks flew into the air in the center of the circle. Quicker than what should be possible, they grow into a fire, hovering about three feet off the ground. The flames start orange, and then flicker between different colors—red, yellow, green, purple, blue, pink, white, and everything in between. It was as if a firework had gone off in the room, completely contained within a small part of the air. Marvin couldn’t help but gasp. And, as he stared closer into the fire, he realized there weren’t just colors...there were images as well. Shapes of people and objects forming scenes. They pass by too quickly for him to fully make out.

The chanting reaches a crescendo, and the fire breaks down into small balls of flame. Each one shoots toward one of the magicians, disappearing into their chests. For a moment, all the magicians glow with the colors of the fire. And then it fades. The lines on the floor disappear, and the magicians slowly stop their chants.

There’s a brief moment of quiet, like the heavy sort of silence one hears after having finished a good book and absorbing the story it contained. And then: “James, can you get the lights again?”

The man from before walks over to turn on the light switch. Everyone gasps and blinks in the suddenly bright room. Idle chatter starts up.

“Hey wait a minute, who’s that?!”

Marvin gasps as one of the magicians points at him. They all turn to look, and he realizes too late that he’d forgotten to concentrate on the invisibility spell.

“Who are you?!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“How’d you get in?!”

And Marvin panics. He turns and runs up the stairs, hearing the magicians shout behind him. Skipping the last step, he bursts out into the first floor hallway and starts to sprint for the front door.

Someone shouts something, and there’s a burst of red light. Then only blackness.

———————

Marvin only realizes he lost consciousness once he starts regaining it. He groans, feeling a headache spike in his temples, and opens his eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A man is sitting next to him, wearing a black cloak. It takes Marvin a moment to recognize him as the Castillo guy. But upon recognition, he bolts upright. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down!” Castillo holds his hands up, slightly pushing Marvin back down. “You’re not in any trouble. Persephone hit you with a blackout spell, but she’s sorry about that.” He glares to the side. “Riiight?”

Every other cloaked magician is standing nearby. They’re all back in the living room from before, with Marvin lying on one of the sofas. “Uh, yeah, really sorry,” a woman says. “I freaked out and acted on instinct.”

“How are you feeling?” Castillo asks, turning back to Marvin. “Some people have allergic reactions to blackout spells. Are you having any trouble breathing?”

Marvin doesn’t answer, looking wide-eyed at the people around him. Now that he’s actively facing the prospect of talking to other magicians, his throat has closed up. It’s probably made worse by the fact that he technically broke into their secret meeting.

“Uh, sir?” Castillo reaches out and makes to grab Marvin’s arm.

“Don’t!” Marvin flinches away. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Oh, okay, sorry!” Castillo sharply withdraws. “Just wanted to be sure you were breathing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fine, so don’t touch me,” Marvin grumbles. He shifts awkwardly, glancing around at the others. They’re starting to mutter among themselves. He can’t tell what they’re saying, and that makes him nervous. Are they mad at him? It would be understandable. But he’s terrible with tone of voice, so he can’t even tell, and the uncertainty makes him even more worried.

“I got it, no worries.” Castillo gives a friendly smile, no doubt meant to reassure Marvin. “But you are okay, right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Marvin mutters.

“That’s good,” Castillo nods. “Um...do you mind if I ask how you got here? This house is warded from any teleportations.”

“Yeah, if you guys tell me who you are first,” Marvin countered.

“We’re the Magic Circle, duh,” one of the other magicians says.

“Well I’ve never fucking heard of the Magic Circle, so excuse me for not knowing!” Marvin sits up on the sofa, scooting away from Castillo.

“Huh? Really?” Castillo looks puzzled. “Well, specifically, we’re the Mirygale chapter of the Magic Circle, it’s a nationwide organization.”

“Are you guys like a coven or something?” Marvin asks.

“We’re just a group, man,” another magician says. “We meet up, cast spells together, not that hard to grasp.”

“I’ve never heard of magic groups,” Marvin says warily.

Castillo blinks. “Seriously?”

“Well, I know the ABIM guys,” Marvin admits. “But that’s it.”

“ABIM is different,” Castillo says dismissively. “They’re like a government, and a loose one at that.” He pauses. “Are you...self-taught?”

“Yeah. Why the fuck does that matter?” Marvin demands.

It must have mattered significantly, because a chorus of “ohhhhhh” passed through the group. “Ah, that explains why you don’t know about magic groups,” Castillo says. “You’re a bit old for being self-taught, though. Most magicians from outside a magical family find—”

“—find out about the greater magic community when they’re in college, yeah, I know, I’ve heard that speech before,” Marvin says through clenched teeth. “So I’m a few years late, I was busy. Anyway, what are magic groups? Just like, magicians gathered together? Is that allowed? What do the ABIM think?”

Castillo laughs. “The Magic Circle is much older than the Association, they couldn’t get rid of us if they wanted to.” He shrugs. “Well, magic groups aren’t too hard to figure out. It’s just a bunch of magicians gathered together.” He sweeps his arm around the room. “Spells cast by a group are more powerful than just a single magician alone. We share spells with each other, come to each others’ aid in times of magical crisis, study magic together...they say two heads are better than one, you know? Stronger in numbers.”

Marvin nods slowly. “So...what were you doing in the basement?”

“That? That was a combination divination and prosperity spell,” Castillo explains. “Something like that you can only get in a group. It shows us significant events in the next year, then gives us good luck.”

“Never heard of a good luck spell...” Marvin mutters.

“Well, you’ve been practicing on your own, and doing luck spells on your own is a tricky business,” Castillo says. “So now it’s our turn. How’d you get inside?”

Marvin shifts uncomfortably, then reluctantly explains the whole thing with the Magic Minds spell and the invisibility.

“Ohhh, I know that spell!” One of the magicians says excitedly. “But you’re supposed to include your target’s full name in the incantation, otherwise it’ll just lead you to the nearest magician.”

“Why were you looking for magicians?” Another one asks.

Marvin looks down. Now that the time has come for it, he’s kind of embarrassed. “I dunno, I...sort of wanted help with this grimoire thing. But it’s stupid. Nevermind.”

“Huh? What kind of help?” Castillo asks. “You know the Magic Minds spell and an invisibility spell, you seem pretty knowledgeable.”

Marvin scowls. “Well, apparently, it needs to be in a book, not online at all. Which is fucking dumb. Why do I have to copy it all over?! It’s all already there!”

“Have you tried listening to a podcast while doing it?” One of the magicians suggests. “It gives you something to focus on.”

Castillo chuckles. “Well, if it’s a problem with focus, I don’t know if magicians specifically could help.”

“Shut up,” Marvin mutters. “Maybe there’s a spell to copy it all over for me—”

“If you found one, let me know, will you?” Castillo jokes.

Marvin glares at him, then stands up. “Well, I’m sorry for interrupting your Magic Circle shit, I’ll just go now, because clearly this was a stupid fucking idea—”

“Hey wait!” Castillo stands up as well. “What’s your name, bro?”

“Don’t call me bro!” Marvin growls. “But it’s Marvin. Marvin Moore.”

“Wait holy shit like Marvin the Magnificent?!” A magician says excitedly. Marvin recognizes him as the James one. “You had real magic the whole time?! No wonder people couldn’t figure out your tricks!”

Marvin can’t help but smile proudly at that. “Hell yeah, people loved it.”

“Well, Mr. Moore, you have some powerful magic in you,” Castillo says admirably. “You bypassed all the wards I set up here without even trying.” He walks over to a table with drawers, pulling one open and taking out a pen and notebook. After scribbling something down, he tears out the page, and walks back over to hand it to Marvin. “This is all our information, and my personal phone number. If you ever have a group you want to join, call us, okay?”

“Oh! Do it!” James encourages. “Then we’ll be thirteen, it’ll be the ideal number for most spells! And we’ll have a famous guy in our chapter!”

“Hey, let him make his own decision,” a nearby magician says.

Marvin scans the information from the paper. There could be benefits to joining a magic group...one of which being that he’ll finally have more than five people to talk to. And were these spells cast by groups really more powerful? A familiar feeling starts to grow inside him, a feeling of wanting to know, of wanting to be the best. That feeling led him astray in the past, got him mixed up in branches of magic he probably shouldn’t have been involved in. But if he’s with other people, it’ll be different, right? He hesitates for just one moment longer, then asks, “Hey, so uh, what if I’ve already made my decision?”

———————

The next day, Marvin finds himself sitting at his desk once more, with his laptop and his unfinished grimoire before him. But there were also a couple other things as well. A slim book, its cover decorated with the same sort of symbols he’d seen written in that circle of salt, and a sphere of black crystal. “Consider these your entrance-level gifts,” Castillo had said. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the types of magic the Circle likes to use, so this’ll be your beginner’s course.”

Marvin actually isn’t familiar with these branches of magic at all. And that makes this book all the more fascinating. It contains a guide to the symbols they use, the principles of the magic, and a few basic spells. Interestingly, it seems to be derived from alchemy. Or maybe it is alchemy, Marvin doesn’t know. He’d never had any reason to look up what alchemy was before this.

He sets the book down, taking a moment to pick up his new crystal ball and look it over. He can already think of several uses for this, but that might have to wait until later. For now, he really needs to at least make some progress on the grimoire.

And where better to start than with the new, interesting spells? It’s sure to keep his focus if he’s copying down information he’s never heard before. Marvin puts the crystal ball down and picks up his pen. But before he starts writing, he puts on his headphones. Listening to a podcast, huh? Maybe that will help.

He can feel that something new is in the air. Something is changing. Marvin had never worked with other magicians before. The prospect is both exciting and a little nerve-wracking. But however this ends, he knows now that things will be different from here on, in some way or another. And he’s certainly excited to find out.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction

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ashadowcalledkei · 6 years

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Well I’m still not entirely happy with this but theater work and holiday shopping have derailed me far more than I’d like lately so you know what? good enough. CHAPTER TIME!

This last part ends To Last the Night. I really hope that you’ve enjoyed reading it and its predecessor. I wanted to say one final THANK YOU~!! to everyone who’s liked or reblogged or sent nice comments because really you guys are the absolute best. And a super special thanks to the wonderful @spacegate whose fantastic ideas, writing, and art inspired this work and whose support meant and still means more than words can say. You are amazing!

Now the big question is; can I get anything done on my other fic? I’m sure gonna try to.

To Last the Night

Sequel to Whispers in the Dark

Pairings: None Characters: Sans, Papyrus, Grillby, Dogaressa, Dogamy

Warnings: none for this chapter (let’s catch up with the guardians one last time before we say goodbye)

Notes: Baby Blasters AU belongs to the wonderful @spacegate, I just love writing awful angst for it.

Read on AO3 here (chapters go up on tumblr first)

Chapter 14

“Door,” a voice sang out, echoed by a small, high pitched howl that rang through the apartment above Grillby's bar. “Someone's at the door!”

“Alright, I'll be right there.”

The owner of both the home and the joined establishment smoothed barely visible wrinkles from his pressed white shirt as he strolled towards the front door. He was all but certain that he already knew who was about to arrive and that they wouldn't care or even notice if he was a bit disheveled from work, but the instinct to make sure he looked presentable wasn't to be ignored regardless.

Sans and Papyrus were already there when he arrived. The taller of the two was all but scratching at the wooden surface, excited by the approaching sounds he heard from beyond it. These days it was nothing new to see the pair so excited, especially Papyrus who hopped from fixation to fixation with all the energy and enthusiasm of an over-caffeinated bunny. And yet, this everyday sight was still something wondrous to Grillby. He'd never have imagined a life like this when he'd first met the pair, nor the dangers he'd have to face it in order to keep it.

It had been many long months since they'd escaped from what was now a lonely, burnt out shell of a house on the outskirts of Hotland. In many ways, the incident and the disturbing sequence of events that had preceded it felt so distant. Some days he had to remind himself that it hadn't all been some terrible nightmare or a story he'd read in a book years ago. But then he'd notice something small, like burn marks on wooden floors or the way the children would sometimes flinch at the shadows that had once felt so comforting to them, and the reality of it all would leave him staggered. It had been real. The scattered snippets of memory he clung to had actually happened despite the tricks his mind was constantly trying to play on him. And the mysterious erasure of it all was just as real.

At last Grillby heard a knock. It was difficult trying to convince Papyrus that waiting for someone to knock before inviting them in was the polite thing to do but he was trying none the less. He opened the door and the smiling faces of the pair he'd expected to see beamed back at him.

“Sorry to come over without calling first,” Dogaressa said.

“Think nothing of it,” Grillby replied, “you're always welcome here.”

The exchange was nothing short of habit at this point, something that had started as a formality and was now so practiced that the two of them said their parts automatically. The words were different from time to time, but it was all simple variations of the same pleasantries. It didn't really matter, yet both of them kept up the act if only as a convenient conversation starter.

“How're the little flamethrowers?” Dogamy asked with a snicker.

Though much of their ordeal was already lost to the three adults, obscured by the haze that wiped away their memories of the mysterious and dangerous person behind it all, some important things still persisted. The sight of the children wreathed in flame was one of them. Burning the poison out of them had been a serious risk, and though Grillby could not recall all of the reasons he'd been forced to take that risk he was grateful that things had turned out as well as they had. It had also resulted in some interesting temporary side effects. Fire magic, as it turns out, likes to linger, and the pair had taken to it so well that it was weeks before the last of the colorful flames vanished from them. Even now they were still prone to the odd, infrequent flareup.

Papyrus crossed his arms and whined, voicing his childish displeasure at the nickname. It only served to make Dogamy laugh harder. Grillby nudged him a little, prompting him to remember what he'd learned about greeting people. “We're … aah … we're … “

“we're good,” Sans said for him.

The younger skeleton huffed and shot him a look that even Grillby knew meant 'I could have gotten it.' But like most altercations between the siblings, the slight was quickly forgotten. Papyrus chattered in a mix of puppy yips and trills as he dragged Dogamy towards the living room. No doubt he was excited to show off the pictures he'd drawn the other day or share his latest 'discoveries'. Grillby and Dogaressa shared a knowing look, somehow managing to contain their amusement. When they looked back, Sans was gone. He'd vanished in the blink of an eye, and if Dogamy's surprised yelp was any indication he was already back in the other room waiting for them.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to that,” Dogaressa said fondly, looking at the empty space where Sans had just been.

“You and me both.”

Grillby wondered if something in the boy's magic had shifted due to his ordeal, unlocking another facet to his powers, or if he'd been capable of this all along and had simply been too secretive to show it. He didn't think it mattered all that much in the long run. However he'd come to possess the power, Sans was at least responsible with it. It helped that he could only transport himself short distances, at least for now.

Now that they were alone in the relative quiet of the hallway, Dogaressa pulled a book from one of the large, hidden pockets of her robe. “I brought you a copy of the record. I think at this point it's as complete as it's ever going to be.”

“Thank you,” Grillby said as he took the offered item. It wasn't much, just an average sized journal bound in leather, but it felt heavy with the weight of the secrets it contained. “Did you come up with any more details?”

“One or two, but I don't think they were all that important.”

The two of them retreated to the kitchen, leaving Dogamy to entertain Sans and Papyrus in the living room. Grillby poured his guest a cup of tea and set the steaming mug in front of her. The journal sat untouched between them.

“Do you still remember much?” he asked, though a part of him wished he hadn't. Even talking about the incident could be an unpleasant experience, leaving him with a dull roar of a headache that lingered until the fog once more rolled over his fractured memories.

“Not really,” Dogaressa sighed, “Dogamy and I keep reminding each other, but every day there's more pieces missing.” She gazed down at the book, her claws tapping restlessly on the ceramic mug. “Reading this now, it feels like it all happened to someone else.”

Grillby nodded in silent agreement. He was grateful that the guards had each other to keep themselves grounded and remind one another of the man that reality itself seemed to want to erase. More than that though, he was grateful that they did the same for him.

“How about you,” Dogaressa asked once she managed to pull herself from her own tangled thoughts, “what have you got left?”

“Not as much as I'd like. But, at least I have the boys to remind me of the important things.”

“They still remember, huh?” she said, regret barely hidden behind a sympathetic smile.

“Every part of it.”

For reasons beyond Grillby's understanding, Sans and Papyrus weren't forgetting their ordeal or the man responsible the way he and the guards were. However, it seemed that they were alone in that unfortunate distinction. Every other trace of the ex-royal scientist's existence was swiftly becoming lost to time. Each record that had been uncovered was distorted at best and missing large sections of otherwise carefully preserved information at worst. Former colleagues knew only of his reputation, having neither a name or a face to associate with the deeds left behind even if they had been present for them. The incident in Hotland had been written off as a freak accident even after Grillby and the guards personally explained their involvement multiple times. Even the bar's regular patrons believed that Grillby had been away on some sort of vacation during the whole ordeal despite him never saying anything of the sort to anyone.

No one could remember the truth, only the convenient lies that had slipped in to take its place. No one except Sans and Papyrus. The details remained with them in startling clarity even as they vanished from the world around them. It didn't seem fair that the ones most hurt by the former royal scientist were the only ones who could never forget him.

“Why did that guy come for them anyway?” Dogaressa asked. “I know he created them, though I'm still not sure how, but this?” She briefly pressed a hand to the journal's unmarked cover. “This was madness. Who would go to such lengths for … what? Revenge?”

Grillby rested his elbows on the table as he looked down at the journal. Madness, huh? It seemed like a fairly apt description based off what he himself could recall, and no doubt the details transcribed on those pages painted an even more twisted tale. He didn't know what could drive a monster to do something like that, nor did he want to, but simple revenge didn't seem right. He thought of a mysterious connection the kids spoke of in hushed, trembling whispers. Of night terrors seen through the eyes of another and what should have been paranoid assumptions stated as absolute fact. Of ruined souls with crystalline cores. “I think there was some part of him in the boys. Pieces of himself that he used when he created them.”

Dogaressa's shoulders hunched reflexively, her fur bristling as she clenched her fist around the coffee cup's handle. “They're nothing like him.”

“That's true,” Grillby said, all too eager to agree with that sentiment, “But maybe there's something in them that's like the man he used to be. The royal scientist that existed before all this. If he really accomplished all that we think he did, like build the Core, then there had to be some good things about him.”

Dark eyes narrowed, not with anger but with a reluctance that the elemental could more than understand. “If that's the case, then we know where those good things ended up.”

It was a wild theory to be sure, something he'd never consider under normal circumstances, but it fit too well with the broken pieces of the story that unseen forces had seen fit to allow them. He wondered if they were right and the royal scientist had unknowingly sacrificed all his best qualities in the creation of Sans and Papyrus. And now, that was all that remained of him. Grillby didn't know if it was true, or even possible, but it was an oddly poetic thought.

“Any luck with the name?” Dogaressa asked, shifting the topic to one that didn't make her bristle quite so much.

“Unfortunately no.” Grillby slumped a little in his chair. Even now, as he tried to recall that missing name and was met with only a blank space in his mind, he was beginning to feel a familiar twinge that meant a headache was fast approaching. “When they say it, all I hear is this … static. Even having the kids write it down doesn't work. It just turns into nonsense. I know they aren't doing it on purpose. Sometimes I can even make out the first few letters. But then … ” He waved a hand dismissively.

Dogaressa let out a sigh, leaning heavily on the table. “I wish I understood this.”

Grillby wished he could do more for her. It wasn't that this didn't bother him as well, it most certainly did. How could anyone not be distressed when their own mind betrays them like that? But his friends, especially Dogaressa herself, were taking it much harder than he was. He thought it might have something to do with their positions as royal guards. The pair saw it as their solemn duty to protect all of Snowdin. Knowing that two of their own had been snatched away and tortured by a madman they'd been unable to stop was clearly weighing heavily on them. Even when the last details of that man had been wiped from their minds, he was almost certain that the guilt would remain, a directionless and desperate need to protect hanging over the pair forever.

But those details and the raw horror they carried would fade. Each passing day pulled them further and further away from their grasp, leaving them with only vague reminders that contradicted the evidence surrounding them. Almost as if they were fighting an uphill battle against reality itself. The royal scientist had become something unfit for this plane of existence, and so it rejected him entirely. For a fleeting moment Grillby remembered the twisted horror that the man had become, dead eyes leaking streams of living shadow. Then pain blossomed in his mind, magic fire flickering as the headache that had threatened him before took hold in full, and the nightmare dissolved into meaningless distress.

“Maybe it's best that we forget.”

“But what if he comes back?” Dogaressa asked, not even trying to hide the fearful tension that the thought brought with it.

“If even half of what we've recorded here is true, I doubt he will. Besides, the boys said he's gone, and I believe them.”

“Now that's surprising,” she said with an amused little huff. “Those paranoid pups really think he won't be back?”

“From what I understand, there used to be some sort of connection between them and the doctor. I guess that must be how he kept finding them.” It had taken a few long discussions for that particular piece of information to stick, but eventually it had. Grillby simply had to place his focus kids rather than the man who had made them. They spoke of a bond like an invisible thread, linking the pair of them together and tethering them to the one they feared most. It had stretched thin, they said, pulled as if through immeasurable distance, until it could no longer be seen or felt at all. Now only the tie between the brothers remained. Sans had looked up at him with a rare and genuine smile, one eye socket lit up with dazzling blue, and Grillby hadn't had the heart to question his claim.

“I think I remember something like that in the book.” Dogaressa shook her head, letting out a frustrated growl under her breath. “I'm even forgetting things about the pups now?”

Grillby reached across the table and gently took the mug from her clenched hands before she could accidentally crack it. “It'll get easier. At least, I think so. Whatever happened back there, it's erased the doctor from our world. The three of us remember more than we should, even with everything we've forgotten.” And if his migraines were any indication, that likely wasn't a good thing. He didn't know how long they could hold out against it, or if they should even try. “Anyway, with him gone it erased that connection as well. Sans and Papyrus can't sense him anymore. They seem fairly confident that it means he's really gone.”

Dogaressa chuckled. “And who are we to argue with that?”

From elsewhere in the apartment they could hear a distant thud and a young voice raised not in alarm but in shrill delight. It sounded like Papyrus was bouncing off the walls in the living room. Perhaps literally.

“Should we go save Dogamy?” Grillby asked, lighthearted amusement helping to drive his headache into submission.

Dogaressa grinned, subtle and sincere. “In a bit.”

In a little while, they would brave the chaos of the living room to rejoin the others, completing a mismatched family of three and the friends who were as close as family to them. They would indulge childish enthusiasm and celebrate curiosity, making the time to listen to every question, concern, and story. They would do their best to give the children the life they deserved and pave the way for a kinder future far away from their nightmares.

There would be time for all of it in the safety that their blood and tears had bought them. But for now, these two friends were content to sit together in comfortable silence, the journal lying untouched between them.

#the nightmare that no one asked for #To Last the Night #Undertale fic #baby blaster au #gaster blaster au #the nightmare ends

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kerasdnd · 6 years

Text

Forced Socailizing

Table of Contents

The rest of the first week was about the same as Monday. The only difference was my mad dashes to other teachers to turn in homework on time. I had learned my two note takers names by Friday. The second year was Alice Rosier. She was quiet but top of her class. Her dirty blonde hair hung in perfect rings every day, was the only indication that she might be an Heir to her Family Name. The third year was Dravin Selwy. Also top of his class, Dravin took the opposite approach to the title. Dravin was loud, outgoing, and made it clear who he was. His soft blue-green eyes, however, told a different story. I, however, knew better than to ask about personal matters until knowing the person a few months. Saturday was basically a Q&A with Serveurs and McGonagall about Legimens and Animagus procedures. Sunday I was lectured none stop on both sides of the Dark Arts, which I promptly collapsed under the Willow. I was glad that within the week I was able to stop asking to come sit with her. I did always thank her for allowing me to. The second week was similar, until Thursday. It was the first years first flying lesson.

We, Slytherins, walked out onto Quidditch pitch to see two straight columns of broomsticks. I smiled and skipped over to one. It instantly jumped into my hand as I stepped up. I mounted it and drifted a few centimeters off the ground. I floated back over to the rest of the group as they walked up. No one else stepped up to the brooms. Instead, they gathered around Draco, who was boasting about his father teaching him how to fly. I drifted off into a memory about my first time on a broom. I was about five. My aunt thought it would be okay to get me a toy broom for my birthday. I was zooming around the backyard laughing and giggling. Suddenly I saw a small ball get thrown at me. I leaned up and caught it without hesitation. “Well someone’s going to be a great player when she grows up,” I heard Uncle Teddy say. I shook my head and looked around me. That would’ve happened if I hadn’t been forced into the Malfoy family. I thought. Madam Hooch walked up and we welcomed her. I laid down on my broom as the class listened to her about how to get the broom in their hand without picking it up. Then there were choruses of “Up”s around me. I was floating next to Theo. He got it in a few tries so I looked across from me. To my surprise, it was Granger and Longbottom. They seem to be getting increasingly frustrated so I called out to them, “Take a deep breath and Calm down. Brooms are like animals. They don’t like negative energy.” The Gryffindors stares at me before doing as I said. A few times later, they had it down. Everyone was instructed to mount their brooms. Then Madam Hooch came around to correct. When she got to me, she noticed I was already flying. I looked up at her from my back and raised an eyebrow. “You helped Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom?” I shrugged, replying, “Just because we’re in different Houses doesn't mean I can’t help a fellow student.” She nodded and continued on. A few moments later I heard her say Draco had been flying completely wrong his entire life. I closed my eyes as I waited to be able to actually fly.

About five minutes, I heard her whistle and someone screaming. I opened my eyes and saw Longbottom screaming as his broom took off. Before I could even move, Theo pressed his palm into my shoulder. I stopped moving and watched in silence. Longbottom finally fell and landed on the ground. Everyone rushed over to him. I flew over to Madam Hooch and asked, “Can I go get the broom?” “Go,” was the answer I received. I flipped on my broom so that I was upright and flew after the rouge broom. It had drifted over the Forbidden Forest. I grabbed it and brought back to the pitch. I saw Draco and Potter flying. I could tell they were fighting over something. The Draco threw it. Without thought, Potter bulleted after it. I landed as Draco did. After laying the brooms down I stormed over to Draco and slapped him across his face. “First of all how dare you bully someone who isn’t even here to defend himself? Don’t deny it because that’s the only reason you would’ve been in the air in the first place. Second congrats you just gave Gryffindor their seeker for the next seven years!” I growled at him before stalking off. Draco had just stood there with his hand on his cheek. Serveurs was waiting on me when I got to the Entrance Hall. He didn’t say anything, just turned around and started walking. I followed silently. My Godfather took me to the library. Holding his hand up to me, he walked in alone. I waited outside in the hall for about ten minutes before he emerged with Flint. Flint smirked down at me as I pushed myself off the wall.”Lyra this is,” Serveurs started but I cut him off, “Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. For you to bring me here to talk to him means you want me on the team. I barely have the time to get all my notes and homework done and turned in on time. Not to mention the spells and potions I have to master for exams. I don’t have the time for,” I waved at Flint in frustration, “This!”

“I understand that you sit under a certain tree during your breaks each day. You seem to have time then,” Flint snapped at me. “I’m doing my bloody workload when I sit there. It focuses me and allows me to be outside. Something I haven’t been allowed in a few years. Serveurs seriously. I’m a first year that’s completely out of practice. I don’t think it’ll work,” I turned to the adult, pleading now. His face was blank and his arms were crossed. “Lyra you were flying with your back on the broom. Then when given permission you flipped while still on said broom and flew off after a rogue broom. You had the broom back to the pitch in under 30 seconds. That’s not out of practice,” he stated. Flint’s smirk fell as he heard that. “Wait you can actually do that?” The sixth-year asked. I shrugged. The two males stared at me in different levels of disbelief. Surprisingly another student came out of the library just then. “Flint, just because you don’t want to learn this doesn’t mean that you can slack off from it,” Dravin growled holding up some paperwork. With the distraction, I slipped away from the trio and went off to my next class. I placed my earbuds in, played War of Change by Thousand Foot Krutch, ignored everyone for the rest of the day. The group kept space between Draco and I since I slapped him.

Life resumed as normal after that. We went to class together. Ate meals together. Studied together. During periods that I was in other classes, I kept my head down as much as possible. Study periods were spent under the Whomping Willow. I collected the other paperwork from Alice and Dravin before dinner and made copies into corresponding notebooks after. Around the 15th of October, I got down a timetable on when to do certain classes’ homework as to not overwhelm myself. The group supported me in their own ways. Crabbe and Goyle studied with me late into the night. Pansy made sure I was up and dressed in time for breakfast. Blaise kept a steady supply of chocolate going. Theo dragged me away from school work to dance or show me something new he found. Draco would smile his rare real smile from behind a book whenever he spotted me needing a test subject and help me. The Twins were stilling bothering me whenever they saw me but I paid them no mind. I felt normal. That is until the Twins cornered me on the 20th.

“Why aren’t your scores posted?” They asked together as they pressured me into a corner in the Entrance Hall. I stood tall and shrugged, “Maybe because I don’t go to all the third year classes?” They paused and looked at each other. I took the chance and slipped passed them. Only to run into Flint, Dravin, and the rest of the Quidditch team. I groaned, “No, I’m not going to join. I don’t have the time.” Dravin held out a slip of paper while Flint smirked. “You do now,” they barked in unison. I snatched the parchment from Dravin. Lyra Lestrange is, from this moment forward, a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team. She will practice and play matches along with her other duties. A. Dumbledore I growled as I read the note. “Fine. I’m going to need a broom,” I stated crossing my arms. “Looks like Harry isn’t the only one who has skills,” I heard one of the Weasleys say from over my shoulder. I didn’t look back at them as I pushed passed the Team and went to dinner. Quidditch was then added to my schedule, taking away my what little sleep I was getting in the first place.

I woke up on Halloween at 530 am in a cold sweat. Groaning I sat up and looked up over at Pansy to make sure she was still asleep. Once I was sure she was, I got up and changed into my uniform, without my robes. I grabbed my bag as I walked out of the dorm. I jammed my earbuds in my ears and blared ‘Demons Among Angels’ so no one would bother me. It was just turning 6 am so only the Quidditch players were up and about, if only out of habit. Flint said we could have the day off. I made my way up to the Entrance Hall and out the door before I realized it. I jogged over to the Green Houses. I saw Professor Sprout tending to some of her plants so I left the 3rd year assignment on her desk. I then jogged to the Whomping Willow. I stood just out of reach once again. “I’m sorry to bother you so early but perhaps I could join you in welcoming this morning?” I asked. The branches, which were up in the air today, moved as if to say come on. I sighed and took my normal spot five feet away from the trunk. Though I’ve only had three hours of sleep, I pulled out my binders. I started transcribing the notes that were given to me yesterday into their respective notebooks while listening to Flyleaf. I lost track of time so I jumped when I heard the bell for class to be starting soon. “Bloody hell. Thank you for letting me sit with you,” I called to the Willow as I ran to Transfiguration. I slid into my seat with seconds to spare. As soon as the bell rang, McGonagall started class. By the time we went to lunch I was starving. I sat down across from Pansy while the boys made our plates. I don’t know why this tradition was put in place. It’s rather demeaning. I thought while absentmindedly reacting to Pansy.

I looked down to start eating and there was only a small salad. I looked up confused. “Why?” I asked open-endedly. “Mother wrote a letter saying that she thought you had put on a few unwanted pounds and to put you back on your diet,” Draco whispered from next to me. I bit my tongue and took a deep breath. “If that’s what Narcissa wants,” I grumbled as I started eating. I had mastered the art of finishing with everyone else with so little on my plate. However today I pushed the plate away after a few bites and stood up. “Lyra, sit down and finish eating,” Draco growled at me. “I have some questions for Professor Quirrell so if you’ll excuse me,” I stepped over the bench and started walking away. Theo grabbed my arm, “You weren’t at breakfast this morning and now you’re skipping lunch. What’s going on?” I turned to face him and growled, “I woke up from a nightmare this morning so I spent it roaming the grounds. Now I refuse to eat something I hate simply because I don’t match Narcissa Malfoy’s vision of how an 11-year-old pureblood heir should look, even though I’ve lost weight if anything. I’m on the Quidditch Team and I’m taking three years of bloody school at once.” I heard the entire Slytherin table become silent at my outburst. I blew my bangs out of my face, pulled my arm from Theo, and turned around. I came face to face with a wall of third years. “What? Are you going to force me to sit and eat?” I asked, not in the least bit scared or confused. For all I knew they got a similar letter from their families. All of them laughed. Dravin, taking lead as always, said, “No, Lestrange. We’ve noticed the Weasley Twins had been bothering you when you came back from your,” his eyes flicked to Draco then back to me, “roaming. They are in our next class as always and we would like to escort you to all third-year classes that you have.” I was taken aback. “Of course we can’t let our Princess get pestered by some blood traders no can we? Especially when the Prince isn’t protecting her,” another third-year stated. I sighed as protested came up from behind me. “Fine. Let’s go,” I said walking out the Great Hall. Dravin threw his arm around my shoulders and walked next to me. Everyone else formed a protective circle around me.

“Here,” Dravin said softly, presenting me a PB&J sandwich. “Thank you,” I whispered as I took it and scarfed it down. “First fight amongst the Heirs it seems,” Dravin stated. I would’ve answered but I was distracted by the Silver Balled Python that was poking its head out of Dravin’s sleeve and looking at me. The snake slithered out a bit farther and flicked its tongue at me.

#the new headmaster #The Founders A New Generation #OC #writing #Draco Malfoy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #Harry Potter

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