DON'T READ AUTHORS NOTE!
Well, if you're reading this, then you clearly don't know how to listen. But that's okay, we all have our faults. Mine is cheddar and cute things. Honestly, though, no one really cares about the authors notes, so I won't write much down, except for a few small comments.
One of the things I will mention, is my love for Self-insert stories. Yes, I admit it. I love them. Even the badly written ones (this might be considered one, but that's ultimately up to you to decide). And I was quite puzzled by how few Self-insertion's existed for this adorable series. So I rolled up my sleeves and made up my own. It's been a good 7 years since my last short story, so lets see how I fair with this one?
Let's begin.
Chapter 1: Fixin' What's Broken
Jorge Rivera was not a fan of the dark.
Usually he was an introvert that had little desire to wander from his home, unless it involved: grocery shopping, work or the occasional trip to the comic book store. Despite that, beyond his time of watching cartoons and playing video games and delivering pizzas around the neighborhood. People were of little concern to him.
What was concerning was finding himself resting behind the wheel of his old blue Altima car with only the emergency light blinking on his dashboard. His head was pounding– most likely from smashing it into the steering wheel– the painful heat radiating from his nose, like someone had lit a match on it.
"W-what the fuck did I hit?" Holding back a groan, he could feel his soul drifting away from the sight of the crumpled and scrapped hood having firmly planted itself against the broken windshield; blocking most of his vision outside. He almost didn't want to go out to assess the damage. He couldn't imagine the amount of money needed to fix the poor thing (he also wasn't looking forward to another hike to his insurance rate).
With a grunt, he pulled the seat belt off; proceeded to open the door and step out. He instinctively grabbed the top of his car as he slipped across the smooth surface, like it was made of marble. He steadied himself with a hiss of irritation.
"Where the hell am I?" Searching his surroundings. His head was clear enough to recall driving down an empty road late at night, having finished his late-night shift at work for Domino's Pizza. He usually had to go over a bridge and go past a multitude of stores and houses on road, just to get home. So where were the buildings? The streetlamps? Or the occasional hooker/pedestrians he assumed would've witnessed the crash?
"I don't even see any stars?" He warily searched over the vast sky, but found nothing but the pitch black void that seemed to stare back into him. He shuddered. The more he searched for answers, the more questions he had. He even wondered whether or not he was even in the same world. . . ?
"If this is some kinda nightmare about 'debt' or dealing with my 'inner man-child,' I'm gonna be so pissed off. . ." He lightly joked, softly closing the door shut with a -click-.
"Actually, from a therapists point of view. . ." A neutral voice began from behind. 'Causing the large Latino to jump and twist around to meet the surprising appearance of a tiny blue man– floating in front of him, no less– adorning an old ragged robe that smelled like the inside of a dictionary book.
" Darkness is more like a 'fear of the unknown' or 'failing at something that matters to you.' "
Jorge stood stock-still. Gaping at the cartoon figure in all its his glory. A shiny pink gem stuck in the old mans forehead twinkled in amusement. Despite his age, Jorge knew of only one person who sported such a jewel with such a nonchalant attitude.
"Glossaryck?" He softly replied.
The cartoon character unconsciously ran his hand over his long white beard as he spoke with a single raised brow.
" Well, this is a rare sight indeed." He said with a hint of interest. "I know some delivery services like to brag about delivering anywhere. But I never expected a void between universes to be on the list."
Despite the joke, Jorge was still in a state of shock as he repeated himself. "You're THE Glossaryck, right?"
The tiny man slowly nodded. "That's right."
The pizza worker went on. "As in the magic guy from the series 'Star vs The Forces of Evil?'"
At this point, Glossaryck was simply giving the driver a bored look. "Look, I'm not sure exactly what you're going on about, but since you seem to know of me and my former wand wielders name, then yes, I am THAT Glossaryck."
He floated past Jorge with haste. "Now if you don't mind, I still have some soup to keep warm in the pot. No one likes cold soup, after all."
Watching the old man, the worker was surprised to suddenly see a large cauldron of boiling soup settled comfortably, right in front of his broken down car. Something, he noted, had not been there before when he was looking around earlier. He followed after Glossaryck, wary of the intense heating emitting from the cauldron as he saw the mixture boil in front of him with bright blue flames burning beneath. The heavy scent of chicken, beef and veggies tickled his sore nose. The desire to eat prodding the back of his mind like a sharp stick, but he proceeded to ignore it for the sake of finally getting some answers.
Taking the spoon in hand, the floating man proceeded to stir the large pot as Jorge stood off to the side. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as Glossaryck muttered something about needing 'more pepper' for the pot.
"So where exactly are we?" Jorge asked hesitantly. He was 90% sure he already knew the answer, but figured he should find some way to start the conversation with the guardian of the book.
"Like I said, it's the void." He emphasized the word with a small hand gesture. " But to be fair, I simply call it that, because I honestly have no idea. Nobody has ever been here before, except for some really dedicated delivery drivers."
Jorge could read the sarcasm, but his worries were greater than his annoyance. "So, I guess this is all a dream then?"
Glossaryck took a small sip from the spoon, but replied, "and what makes you say that?"
Jorge shrugged. "Well, I mean, your not exactly. . ." He trailed off.
"Real?" The smurf gave the taller man a raised brow. "To be fair, nothing in this place technically exists. Ergo, if I'm not real, then. . ." He motioned to him.
"No, no, no." Jorge shook his head as he waved away the creepy possibility. He knew that Glossaryck was the type of person to leave things open-ended; forcing others to figure it out themselves. He wasn't about to get caught up in some mind game with him.
"I know I'm real. I have a family, a job, and other stuff– " He started, but was cut off.
"Well, I've got a spoon, and bubbling pot of hot soup," " the old man pointed out. "So how does this make me any less real than you?"
"Because you're a cartoon character!" He threw his hands out toward the old man to show the difference between their skins. Obviously, it wasn't just the color of their skins Jorge was raving about, but the very realities the two shared. While Jorge was normal skinned like any human, Glossaryck had that brightly colored skin tone that showed so much life and expression that a reality like Jorge's could never achieve.
"Oh, so now it's realities your trying hash out now?" He dumped the spoon back in the simmering pot. "Look, kid. . . You can't start focusing on the 'what if's' and the 'what nots,' if you yourself, don't have an actual understanding of the universe and all of its overly complicated rule books."
He kept his silence as Glossaryck floated up to him.
"Sure, our realities may differ, but certain rules don't."
Jorge blinked.
"Wha-OW!" He yelped as Glossaryck slapped him on the busted nose. The old man shifted back to position as the bigger man nursed his aching nose with a glare, but caught on to the lesson with a sinking feeling.
"Now, if this WAS a dream. You would've woken up by now, wouldn't you?"
Jorge couldn't really reply as he looked back at the ruined car again. The front of it was shaped like an accordion, almost as if he had driven it straight into a brick wall. In fact, looking a little closer. He noticed large gashes and scrapes covering a good portion of the surface and. . . maybe teeth marks? He honestly wasn't sure, but the possibility worried him.
"No," he reluctantly answered. "But then this place must be the part where Star comes to defeat Toffee."
Glossaryck frowned slightly, but continued to stir the pot as he listened.
"Maybe, when Star get's here, she'll be able to get me out with her magic?" Though he was hopeful over the idea of meeting Star from the actual series. He wasn't sure she if would have the ability to do so. From what he remembered from the show. She was just a fifteen year old girl, who could barely control the power of a wand. Hell, she wasn't even able to bring Glossaryck back until he haunted her into throwing the remaining piece of the book into the well, back at the sanctuary.
Was that how he was gonna escape from here? Hopping a ride with Glossaryck, while he screamed out "Globgore!" until he was free? He didn't want to even think about it until the time came. Perhaps, the safest thing Jorge could do now was simply sit alongside Glossaryck and wait the whole thing out. Terrible as that sounded, he had no real choice until Star got here.
Of course, what little thread of hope he had was chopped up when the former book wielder let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid that's going to be quite difficult." He paused, letting the heavy note hang heavy in the air as Jorge gave him a bewildered look.
"Why's that?" He asked with a hint of hesitation.
Glossaryck set the spoon down once more as he gave Jorge a straight look, "because Star has been here with me for the last three days." The old man ignored the wide-eyed look as the bearded mage returned to his reflection in the pot. "She had a lot of potential to be something great. It's just a shame that she couldn't fly high enough to complete the journey."
Jorge felt his stomach drop.
The forlorn tone in Glossaryck's voice reminded him of Moon's mother– Queen Comet– passing away off screen in that one episode that reflected on the past battle between Toffee and the butterfly kingdom. That was the only time Glossaryck, ever actually showed an emotion that wasn't coated in boredom or sarcasm.
"W-what are you talking about?" Jorge tried to be calm, but his voice shook. His eyes stung from the frightening thought of Star Butterfly being dead. She was easily one of his favoritest characters in the whole series.
Glossaryck simply pointed behind Jorge with an empty look. "See for yourself."
Following his finger, the delivery driver could feel his heart jump to his throat. A lime green couch was settled right behind the pair, but slumbering quietly on the cushions herself was the body of Star Butterfly, The Princess of Mewni.
"No way. . . S-Star?" He shakily called out as he approached the animated body. He noticed a look of sorrow adorning her face as if she herself had sadly realized her own failure to the very end.
"I'm afraid the only thing I could do for her was clean up the gunk." Glossaryck added from his place at the pot. "Her body is still the same as the day I took her in. It really is a shame. She had so much potential."
Jorge keeled next to the body noting the faint scent of cotton candy and caramel. Upon gently stroking her heart shaped cheek, his gut clenched. The very sight of a young go-lucky spirit who went through so many adventures and made so many friends, laying on her death bed was heartbreaking for him. Despite her cartoon body, she felt just like a normal human, except. . . She was so cold.
"Star. . . You can't be. . ." He covered his mouth as he felt himself choking up. Though he didn't know her on a personal level, he couldn't help but feel like he knew her as well as Marco or Tom. He had binged watched all three seasons of her show and each one showed how she grew from a silly little girl to a responsible princess who still held that loving charm that made you want to be friends with her. She was one of the most important and iconic characters of this world. A fifteen year old girl, burden with the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. Yet, he couldn't imagine how heavy the responsibility must've been for her, right to the very end.
Trying to deny Glossaryck's claim, Jorge settled his head against her chest and tried to look for a heartbeat. He laid there, unconsciously holding her icy hand even as he closed his eyes and focused.
Glossaryck watched from his position with a sad shake of his head. Despite the fact this was the first time he had ever met the stranger. He couldn't feel any evil or selfish intent coming from him. The fact that the man seemed to wear his heart on his blue sleeve, only gave him some small comfort. Despite all of the power and magic he once wielded. He could only stir this god forsaken cauldron to pass the time. Naturally, he cared for the girl, but even he could do nothing but keep her body safe and comfortable as of now.
After, what felt like, several minutes had passed. Jorge reluctantly moved his tear-ridden head from Star's chest and tried to wipe away the damp spot– where his tears had soaked into. Not once catching even the faintest of heartbeats. He was almost tempted to give her CPR, but he wasn't even sure if that was even worth trying at this point. She'd been dead for three days from what Glossaryck had told him. Her brain cells would've been all but gone at this point.
"I'm so sorry, Star," he sniffled. Trying to man up and wipe his tears away. "This wasn't how it was suppose to end for you." If Star Butterfly was sitting here, truly dead. Then this had meant that Toffee had officially won. Magic had been corrupted; Queen Moon and Marco lay defeated as Toffee simply walked away like free man, having stolen the most important person of the multi-verse.
"Well, well, today is just chock full of surprises. . ."
Jorge turned from Star's body and noticed what had captured Glossaryck's attention.
The soup was faintly glowing.
"What's going on Glossaryck?" He asked, approaching the cauldron from behind the blue man, who was enthusiastically swirling the boiling soup around.
"I''m honestly not sure. . ." He replied, scratching his chin with his foot. "Apparently the universe decided to throw us another curve ball. . ."
-Bwong! Bwong! Bwong!-
The two quieted down when a faint chime of grandfather clock came from within the boiling soup pot. Jorge gasped as he remembered the magic that lived within the cauldron.
"The magic is still there!" He cried out in excitement.
Glossaryck gave the tearful man a funny look. "Well, from the sound it, there's seem to be a clock in my soup. Clock gears never agreed with me. Far too much iron, you see."
Wiping away his remaining tears, Jorge ignored the poor attempt at humor and smiled back at Glossaryck. "But back in the show. When Star came here, she realized that she needed to dip down and release the magic she had inside of her." He tried recalling the episode to the best of his memory. "When Star did that, she not created new magic, but she used her ultimate Butterfly mode to obliterate Toffee and saved the multi-verse!"
Once he finished, he waited for Glossaryck to show him a new reaction, but began to lose his cheer, when the old man simply stroked his beard and simply replied. "I see. . . So Star would've discovered the power within her and brought back the magic that Toffee had corrupted. A very useful trump card to play."
Glossaryck's tone annoyed Jorge so much, he had to point out. "Don't you get it? If we give Star the last bit of magic in this soup she'l-"
"Come back to life?" Glossaryck finished in an uppity tone. Shutting Jorge up quickly. The mage let out a deep sigh and continued. "Look kid. . . I can tell you admire her and everything, and while I'm not going to point out the creep factors of a thirty year old man, admiring a teenager. The magic needed to bring about this supposed 'happy ending' you keep wishing for, just doesn't exist any longer."
Jorge felt like he had been kicked in stomach from Glossaryck's blunt reply.
"Why?" He asked.
"Like I said, Star has been dead for the last three days. Whatever secret well of power that was laying dormant in her body, has long since checked out." The old man threw a thumb over his shoulder as he gave the soup a disappointed look. "If all of this had happened at least a day or two, maybe we could've had a chance, but after this length of time. There's simply no coming back from that."
With that said, Glossaryck let out another sigh and stared back at the soup as the chime of the clock called out for it's owner to claim it.
-Bwong! Bwong! Bwong!-
"So there's truly nothing we can do?" Jorge said as he gave the old man a weird look. Glossaryck took spoon full of meat and held it out to him.
"Well, you can always eat? Of course, I only have one spoon so unless you're germaphob- Wait, what are you doing?" Glossaryck furrowed his brow as he watched Jorge started to roll up his sleeves.
"I think eating soup is the last thing Star would've wanted us to do." Jorge took a deep breath as he stared into the boiling soup with fear and hesitance. He honestly had no idea if what he doing was gonna mean anything in the long or short run. But he knew simply sitting here eating soup for the rest of eternity wasn't gonna change anything either.
"Kid, I wouldn't. . . It's boiling hot!" The book guardian warned as Jorge looked really reluctant at the idea of sticking his hands into scalding heat. Was he actually gonna try and attempt what Star did in the show? There were so many factors that didn't seem to add up with his choice. If anything, the worst case scenario he was looking at was sever burns scars and appearing like an idiot in front of the immortal.
With a big gulp, he felt the heat drifting over his skin even more now. The blue flames dancing beneath the pot as if it dared him to try and copy what the true hero of the story had done.
Noticing his hesitation, Glossaryck wondered, "Why are you even bothering to try? Last time I checked, this was your first real encounter with this girl." He glanced at Star's resting body, but kept his gaze mainly focused on Jorge dark brown eyes that showed fear and worry.
"You don't even know her on the level of an acquaintance," he continued with a stroke of his beard. "She's nothing more to you than a character in a book. Heck, you don't even know if what your doing is going to even work! What actual reasoning could you possibly have to take such a foolish risk like this?"
Jorge paused for the moment to process his words.
"You're right. . . It is kinda pointless for someone like me to do anything. Especially when I don't honestly know Star on a personal level like you or any of her other friends." Glossaryck kept a neutral face as Jorge tried to find the right words. The sweltering heat doing little, but reminding him of his rash decision.
"If I'm gonna be honest. I have no clue if this is gonna work or not. Hell, I'm not even a good person, so under normal circumstances, I would've just let someone else try and do this." He frowned at his admittance. "But, I know that staying here and doing nothing isn't the answer either."
He stood closer to the pot and took a shuddering breath as he stared into the bubbling stew that held a glowing piece of magic below it's surface. He could almost feel it staring back at him.
"I'm not exactly the smartest person in the room, so all I can say is how I feel right now." He grit his teeth as his hands shook from the tension.
"And right now. I feel like I really need to h-help and-"
-Bwong! Bwong!-
"DIP DOWN!"
With a cry, he shoved his hands into the boiling pot and tensed his muscles as the immense heat traveled up his arms. His hands reaching for the floating speck of magic that existed within. Every curse word in his mind came scrambling out of his mouth as he fought through the pain. His tears and sweat poured down his face as his rumbling growl turned into an agonizing cry.
"GrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Oh, boy." Glossaryck slowly lowered himself from the cauldron and disappeared from view.
Through the intense pain and heat that scorched his arms like lava. Jorge could also feel something else crawling up his arms. . . Even through his sweat and pain, he could almost swear that it felt like something was trying to pull him into the–
-KER-SPLASH!-
With that last train of thought, Jorge's entire body was yanked into the boiling soup mix. The pot gave a fearsome glow as the soup overflowed and the cauldron shook mightily, before erupting like a geyser of meat and soup stock in the realm of nothing.
But beyond the sounds of explosive soups and rattling metal, a single tiny voice carried softly in the background. . .
"Did it . . .work?"
It was lunch time in the royal dining room of the Butterfly castle. The quaint little area was decorated with fancy crystal chandeliers that hung from the rafters; large paintings of royal knights that covered the drab stone walls and several tables littered with hors d' oeuvres and a variety of deserts. Though it was enough to feed a small village, this was the usual set up for the royal pair since showing off your natural wealth was also a sign of proper royalty. Both Queen Moon and her shorter husband, King River of the Butterfly family, sat at the center of the long dinner table that contained their kingdoms most treasured national dish– Corn on the cob, slathered in butter.
Though Queen Moon, herself, was quite satisfied with her corn crumpets and dragon rose tea. Her husband was quite content with stuffing his mouth with the kingdoms favored dish. His inner barbarian threatening to explode as he greedily chowed down, relying on old instinct to preserve as much of his food as possible before any of his other kin would steal his portion for themselves. Moon was sure, if River didn't love her as much as he did. She would've probably had lost one of her dainty little fingers to his more primal nature.
At least he didn't leave as much of a mess as he use to. . .
"River, dear." She started, 'causing her husband to pause in his corn rampage as he listened to her as attentively as a dog that had been called over by their master. "You wouldn't happen to know where our daughter is at this time, would you? It's already nearing the end of our lunch hour and she's yet to make an appearance."
Wiping the corn pieces form his blonde beard. King River coughed into his fist and answered. "If I recall correctly, I believe Star mentioned something about wanting to explore the village for the 'perfect sandwich' and wouldn't be back until supper time." He chuckled at the idea. "A simple quest that will help her mingle with common folk, and reward her with a full belly by the end of it. Why, she might've even gained the chance to try that new 'BBQ monster cob burger,' I've heard so much about!" He licked his lips at the thought. "Hopefully, she'll bring back a doggy bag for her dear old father to try."
Queen Moon sighed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her daughters free spirit conflicting with her own schedule, once again. "That's fine, except for the fact she has dance practice at 2 o'clock before then." She noted her husband flinching at this, revealing that Star wasn't theonly one to forget this little fact. "She can't waste time on silly games when others are sparing their own time to teach her the proper steps of ballroom dancing." She lectured with an impatient look. "She's suppose to learn this, before the Silver Bell Ball arrives."
Though Queen Moon had given up on her daughter ever learning to play an instrument (the amount of broken windows from trying to teach her was an expense Queen Moon was happy to avoid). She refused to let her daughter avoid her proper lessons as royalty. Besides the fact, ballroom dancing was a natural skill one needed for important events. The Silver Bell Ball would be happening within a month– just a short time after her birthday/Stump Day – and Star was going to be expected to preform, since they themselves were the usual main host to all of the dances. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to grow two left feet and spark an incident with a friendly kingdom, because of her negligence to her duties.
"I suppose I can send out a few guards and Manfred to retrieve her then." She withdrew her wand from her side. "Perhaps this time they'll find her without being covered in mud." Ending on a dry note, she made to call for the guard with a flick of her crystal wand, until she noticed a strange glow emitting from it.
"What's this?" She examined the device as it started to release a constant pulse of magic from its core, just like a heart beat.
"What's the matter dear?" Her inquisitive husband asked, "is it broken?"
Moon had no way to respond to this. She had never seen her wand react like this before. It was worrying. In fact, her worry only grew as the magical pulses coming from the wand began to grow stronger and stronger with every passing moment. It was starting to get to the point where it was even vibrating in her hand like it was about to–
-ddddddrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!-
Like a car engine from hell combined with a laser, blast the wand suddenly let out a devastating noise, before unleashing a large explosion of white light from within it's small frame. Years of battle harden instinct and proper dueling stances was the only reason why Moon didn't go flying off from the sheer force of the magical recoil. Luckily, she had aimed it the massive beam of magic straight out the windows; well away from her husbands skull or any innocent worker staying within the castle. This was one the few times in her life, Moon was so glad for her husbands short stature.
The powerful magical beam, thankfully, died down as the last of the light left through the impressively large hole that had been made from within the castle walls.
The two stood stock-still having no idea as to what had taken place. The food that decorated the hall was now scattered about like a tornado had taken a quick visit to their dining room, before breaking down the wall and running off. Windows were shattered, old paintings ruined and even her husband was wearing a crown covered in corn.
All in all, this just seem to be another Tuesday in the realm of mewni.
"Well, then. . ." River started, pulling himself up from underneath the table as he wiped off an offending corn that decorated his crown. "I believe this is a good excuse as any to install that new stained glass window we were talking about the other day."
Queen Moon didn't respond to this. She kept her silence as she continued stare at the table her husband had sheltered beneath for his own safety.
"Moon?. . .What's wrong?" He got up and grasped her hands that had dropped the wand. Her eyes not connecting to her husbands worried look.
"River," she finally responded.
"Yes, my dear?" He replied to her with queer look.
"By any chance did you order the chefs to bring us a peasant for lunch. . . again?" She asked in accusing tone.
River blinked at the question, before turning to face what had captured his wife's interest, which was the backside of a boy laying haphazardly on the dining table. His entire backside releasing smoke as if he had just stepped out of sauna. Now he understood why she hadn't looked at him nor the gaping hole that decorated their poor castle. Just another day in the life of the Butterfly Kingdom, he supposed.
"To be fair my dear," He said, in a serious tone. "I actually order a 'pheasant' the last time, not a 'peasant.' Just a silly mix-up in the kitchen, that's all."
The two stood in silence as the magical mystery took it's place within the history. One that would change the future of the kingdom for a long time coming.
A doorway slamming open broke the silence as a familiar smurf came riding into the room on a large magical book.
"I heard there was pudding today!" Glossaryck declared with a rare grin.
"You guys wouldn't mind if I, uuh. . ." His enthusiasm died out as he witnessed the two ragged royals who turned to him; sharing a lost look. An unconscious boy laying on the table, surrounded by a devastated dining room.
Seeing this, Glossaryck gave a bored look. "Welp, it looks like your having peasant again. So I'll just come by later when the pudding cups are set out." With that said, Glossaryck slowly drifted back through the doorway and shut it behind.
Somewhere in the background, a plate fell and shattered loudly.
End.