Ain’t No Rest 4/? (2015-09-13)

Ben likes to think he’s a patient person–except, no, that’s a lie, he knows he’s easily excitable and tends to rush ahead with only minimal thoughts to the consequences–but he’s pretty sure anyone on as little sleep as he got, with as much shitty coffee as he’s drunk, would be impatient too after an hour of being stonewalled by the one of the perpetrators of probably the only interesting case to happen in Auradon in years.


Any other day, this would be the kind of thing Ben would be grateful for, a break in monotony from the usual Knight’s duties. Just figures this would happen when Ben’s not at his best.

He’s fidgety–Ben, that is–and if it didn’t seem to at least sort of unnerve the suspect he’d feel weird about acting so vulnerable in front of a stranger, much less a criminal. But as it is, just because the guy isn’t saying anything doesn’t mean he’s not giving them information.

The guy has been verbally uncooperative, but he was pliant enough when it came to booking. Obediently standing and turning for pictures, even if he had a pout the entire time, and letting himself be fingerprinted. Not that that helped at all; no match in the system. Even now there are still smudges of ink on his fingertips, the blackened lines and whorls standing out darkly against pink skin. Ben let’s go of his paper coffee cup, the fourth of the night, to slide his own hands across to where the suspect’s are resting against the table.

The perp doesn’t quite flinch away from the movement, but it startles Ben out of that course of action before he makes contact.

Whoa, Ben thinks, shaking his head, I am really tired. He clears his throat, hands going back to his coffee cup, the liquid inside lukewarm and sludgy, but at least it gives him something to do. Something like not touching the prisoner which is very clearly against the rules of conduct inside an interrogation room.

The camera in the corner of the ceiling has been constantly recording, steady red light like a judgmental eye. He hopes Lonnie doesn’t bring that up.

A knock on the door jolts both of them, but the perp does not look away from Ben, and Ben finds it hard to look away too, even despite the heaviness of his eyelids, but then the door opens and one of the precinct’s uniforms calls out, “Uh, sir?” Even though Ben is clearly younger than the police officer. But that’s what he gets for being a Knight, so Ben turns.

“Yeah?” Ben says, voice low and scratchy, before he clears his throat again and tries again, “Yes, what is it?”

“Lab results for the DNA test are back,” the uniform says, holding out a folder but not stepping inside.

Ben tries not to let the irritation or the skepticism show on his face. The former because that means Ben has to heave himself out of this surprisingly comfortable chair just to walk three steps over to get the folder. The latter because it’s not like the prisoner looks all that intimidating–he’s probably a few years younger than Ben, several inches shorter, and a good twenty pounds lighter–what could be so scary about that?

“Let’s see it then,” he mutters, flipping open the folder and paging through the information. Like his fingerprints, there’s no exact match for the perp in the system, but there is a partial match.

Ben can feel his eyebrows raise in surprise as he looks between the lab results and the perpetrator still sitting silently at the table, a smirk slowly edging onto his face as he realizes what it is that Ben must have just found out.

Partial DNA match found–their prisoner is related to Cruella de Vil.


A/N: I DO REALLY WANT TO DO THIS STORY, BUT IT’S SO DIFFICULT, ARGH. I think the problem is that I’m being too perfectionistic with it so it’s not flowing like A Tale of Two Kingdoms or Only Fools Rush In did. And I figure, I might as well write Ben’s POV while I’m tired since he’s tired, too, right?

Come on mystical muses, hit me with some inspiration.


Ain’t No Rest, part 3/? (2015-09-05)

Carlos is smart.

He’s really fucking smart, okay. He is probably the only person in the entire world who can outsmart magic.

But Carlos is also scared. And it’s because he’s so smart that he’s scared.

Because ingenuity isn’t the same as prescience or telepathy or even strategic thinking. He can take down the barrier, sure, but that doesn’t mean he knows what to do afterwards. Or how to deal with the consequences.

Luckily, he’s not alone–he has his gang, his family–they’re the entire reason why he took down the barrier in the first place. Over the years, his friends’ powers have only grown stronger: Evie’s predictions becoming more accurate, more certainties that probabilities. On those occasions when she’s unsure, people’s intentions switching mid-action or just not existing, well, that’s where Jay can pick up the slack. And Mal’s tactical prowess, while not magical, has always been impressive. As they grew, so too did their abilities–magic and not.

Unfortunately, while strength has always been held in high esteem on the Isle, for four kids trying to keep a secret, it was their downfall.

No, not kids, they’ve grown up. Adults. Carlos knows that their age shouldn’t have mattered, but it’s still something that hangs over them. A heavy what if; wondering if youth would have protected them. If it would have fulfilled one of the conditions to their parents’ tenuous, contingent love.

Because instead of seeing their children, Maleficent, Grimhilde, and Jafar had only seen rivals. Worse, rivals with a secret, rivals with magic.

Which left the the gang two options: fight or run. The truth of the matter is, they probably would have won, but not without killing; and for all that their parents’ love is conditional, theirs is not.

And so Carlos took down the barrier–only for a short window of time–and they fled.

The thing about having two options is that, really, it’s three options. The third option being to do both. Yes, they flee the Isle, not wanting to kill their parents despite them having no qualms about doing the same. But that doesn’t mean they won’t go back and fight.

The just need to pick up a few things first, so it doesn’t turn into parenticide. Things in Auradon. Things held in varying levels of security in Auradon. Things like, say, a certain genie lamp, a particular glass coffin, a specific bell jar, and the only magic wand worth the term.


Here is something Evie does not know yet. Her gift has not shown it to her, because it is not relevant. Not yet. It will be.

When Carlos took down the barrier, it wasn’t four people who left the Isle. It was ten.


A/N: For cyclesofthemoon who prompted “Carlos is” Which is a bit sparser than I expected for a prompt, but no less appreciated. Also, for that anon who asked about Ain’t No Rest. (jalencolbert is that you again?)

Because I haven’t forgotten it, but I have been putting it off. Because… yeah, I kind of realized I used a lot of what I was originally planning on doing in Ain’t No Rest in A Tale of Two Kingdoms instead… and then I also lost track of the plot. Basically, I was scared–I really want this to be amazing, but I have greatly reduced my options/abilities to do so. 😦

Subconscious uses crippling self-doubt!

It’s very effective!

But, mrgh, hopefully I can kickstart my enthusiasm for this story.

edit: switched about some lines for better flow.

Ben is super almost embarrassingly tactile and has a crush on Carlos. Carlos is extremely sensitive on his sides and shoulders, but ESCPECIALLY the backs of his thighs. Just an idea —-I’m a fan of this

OOH! Anon, yes! That is perfect! I like this idea of yours very much. ;D

I can picture the perfect scene for Ain’t No Rest with this prompt, but it may take a while. Chronologically this scene would have to happen after a bit more plot development. Be patient with me please? I absolutely love this, though. 

Thanks for the prompt!

Ain’t No Rest, part 2/? (2015-08-14)

The Barrier Observatory in Charmington reports a system down emergency at least once a month. Magic is outlawed because it’s something that villains can abuse, true, but it’s also just highly incompatible with technology–even technology meant specifically to monitor magic tends to go on the fritz. So it’s not too surprising when the system designed to keep an eye on the barrier around the Isle of the Lost sends false alarms to the Auradon police department.

This is something that Lonnie, as the newest member of the dispatch unit, gets the honor of dealing with. Her fifth time handling a BO red alert happens at two in the morning, which isn’t as bad as it sounds–she’s always been a bit of a night owl. However this particular time, when she calls the observatory for the all clear, instead of a sheepish and embarrassed Jane on the other end, she gets a frazzled and panicked Jane.

“It’s not just the sensors this time!” Jane says, voice high and wavering, “It’s not a glitch!”

The shock of it stuns Lonnie for a beat before her training kicks in and she responds calmly, “Are you and the rest of the Observatory staff in any physical danger?”

In her peripheral vision she sees the dispatcher in the desk beside her turn, eavesdropping and as surprised by half the conversation as Lonnie is by all of it.

“N-no,” Jane stammers, fear lingering, before she pulls herself together, “We’ve had our technicians go over everything. The sensors are all in working order, and there’s nothing wrong with the program either. Our readings show that the barrier really was down.”

“It was down?” Lonnie repeats, and now she can spot more of her coworkers in the corner of her eyes as her call continues, “Is it still down?”

There’s a moment of silence, in which Lonnie can feel her heart begin to speed up, before Jane answers, “No, the barrier is back up now,” but then she adds, hesitant and worried, “At least–if our readings really are correct–”

“Okay, stay calm. For now we’ll assume that the readings are correct and the barrier is up,” Lonnie interrupts, to cut off that line of thought. It’s as much for her own sake as it is for her fellow dispatchers crowding around her and Jane on the other end. “We’ll send a couple of uniforms over now to confirm it’s not someone pulling their idea of a terrible prank,” Lonnie waves a hand at her neighbor, prompting him to begin calling the Charmington precinct, “And we’ll have a Knight head over in the morning to investigate further. Does that sound good?”

Jane sighs–in fully earned relief, no doubt, but it just creates a burst of static-filled noise in Lonnie’s headset–before asking, “Can I stay on the line until the officers get here?”

“Of course, let me transfer you to the dispatcher in contact with the local police. He’ll keep you updated on their location until they arrive at the observatory.”

“Thanks, Lonnie,” Jane says.

“It’ll be okay, Jane,” Lonnie says back, before rerouting the call to her fellow dispatcher. She takes a moment to breathe deeply, rubbing a hand over her face, somehow exhausted even though she only started working a few hours ago.

The shift supervisor is standing behind Lonnie when she turns, and she does her best not to startle too much.

“Well done, new kid,” he says, which Lonnie knows to be enthusiastic praise coming from him. Bill Packard is a crotchety, old man in the body of a thirty year old; more cynicism than serenity, but still damn good at his job. If there were such a thing as dispatcher nobility, he would be king; his grandmother, Wilhelmina Packard, was the radio operator during the fabled Atlantis expedition.

That compliment puts a little bit of positivity in what is looking to be a terrible night.

“Better call up the Knights,” he says, before returning to his desk, “See which sad s.o.b. is going to be leading the charge on this one.”

The Knights of Auradon are an elite agency designed to keep the peace. They are trained to handle any and every situation, are expected to maintain peak levels of fitness, and look quite dashing in their dress uniforms.

Which, really, is what most of their duties consist of now. With over two decades of all the major villains, the minor villains, and even some of the more despicable minions being imprisoned on an island, there really hasn’t been much in the way of crime. Nothing that requires the Knights’ high standard of skillsets at least.

Instead, Knights are mainly used for security at major political events, particularly diplomatic ones with foreign ambassadors who can admire the glittering guards and ask, “Are you really trained in such and such?” or “Is it true that Knights can do…” or, in Ben’s case, “It must have been such a surprise when the President’s son decided to be a Knight.” As if they weren’t speaking directly to said President’s son, as if he were just a statue they could speak at.

They’re not difficult assignments, but they are tedious. So it’s not surprising when, after only two hours of sleep following one such event, Ben wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing and heaves a reluctant, weary sigh into the pillow. He nonetheless reaches out for it, squinting blearily at the bright screen in his struggle to answer it.

“Hello, this is Ben,” he slurs, attentive but unable to put the effort into sounding so. Seriously, two hours of sleep, they’re lucky he even bothered to answer.

“This is Lonnie,” he hears from the other end, “Sorry Ben, you’re the Knight scheduled for on call duty,” she says apologetically.

He muffles a groan into his pillow, the arm not holding the phone to his face flailing out in agitation, before he composes himself, “What is it this time? High schoolers with alcohol crossing county lines?” he guesses from past experience, “Illegal night boating?”

“It’s the Barrier Observatory,” Lonnie says, seriously enough that Ben drags himself up and out of bed, “They’ve reported an actual red alert. Only a temporary system down but still, it’s correct as far as they can tell. We’ve already sent local police from the Charmington precinct to check things out, make sure it’s not some asshole messing around. But if it’s serious…” she trails off, almost afraid, as if saying it aloud will make the worst case scenario true.

“Yeah, I get you,” Ben says, struggling to put on his work uniform which, while less intricate than the dress uniform, is still difficult to do one handed. Frustrated, he sticks his phone between his ear and his shoulder, only to teeter sideways into the wall with a resounding thud.


“I’m okay,” he mostly yawns, “I’ll be at HQ in twenty minutes. Fifteen if I speed.”

“You’re supposed to uphold the law,” Lonnie admonishes, but at least she doesn’t sound scared anymore.

“Ten minutes, you say? That sounds terribly dangerous, Lonnie,” Ben says, affecting a scandalized tone of voice. Or as much of one as he can with his shirt still up over his head.

It elicits a laugh from Lonnie who ends the call with an amused, “Be good. Dispatch is always watching.”

Unhindered by his phone, Ben manages to dress himself without a problem and leave his apartment within a few minutes. At this time of night, there’s hardly anyone out on the streets, but he does not get to HQ within fifteen minutes. Not even in twenty.

En route, Ben gets another call from Lonnie. Tonight is apparently the night for alarms, because he gets redirected to the museum. If he hurries, maybe he can catch the intruders.

An hour later, Ben is sitting on the other side of an interview table from a stubbornly silent, unidentified young man who refuses cooperate in any manner. He wonders to himself if it would have been more or less frustrating had he caught all of the intruders instead of just the one.


A/N: Hell yeah, making up how a fake multi-functional government agency in a fictional fantasy world works. And apparently I enjoy writing Ben as a flailing dweeb. It’s okay, Ben, you don’t have to be suave, we all saw you ride the poor horse mascot while singing your love for Mal to the entire school.

Like I said, this story is going to be hella slow. There will be more Carlos in the next chapter, I promise. Can’t promise the next chapter will come out tomorrow though… BECAUSE I MIGHT HAVE ACCIDENTALLY STUMBLED ACROSS ANOTHER PLOT BUNNY. THE BUNNIES, THEY ARE TOO MANY, AND TOO GREAT.

I will try my best though.

Ain’t No Rest, part 1/? (2015-08-13)

Here is a secret about magic: when it does get passed on, it is always stronger in the next generation. Some of that has to do with compounding knowledge–usually, parents and teachers will share with their children–and the fact that magical objects absorb ambient energy over time. But neither of those apply to the Isle of the Lost.

Why would villains pass on their knowledge or artifacts, when both have been made useless? On a barren island, surrounded by an impenetrable barrier, the greatest witches and sorcerer of the age found that they were unable to use their powers. They accepted their new, mundane way of life with ill humor, but they did accept it.

Never again would they raze kingdoms with a mere blink of their eye. Never again would they hold the fragile lives of royalty in their hands. Never again would they break the laws of nature and humanity just to prove they could. They were trapped on a rock where no magic could happen, and from which no one could escape.

But… neither of those are true; not exactly, not completely.

Carlos is fourteen and they are sixteen when their lives change. Not necessarily for the better.

It’s subtle at first, starting with Jay, the oldest of the four. He’s been stealing for over a decade, hardly ever gets caught, but in the rare occasions he does? He can always use flirtation or fear to get out of trouble. But his powers of persuasion have been improving, to the point where Lady Tremaine even let him take her emerald ring directly off her finger.

“I’m just that suave,” he’ll say, rattled but unsure why and unwilling to show it. The rest of them suspect it had more to do with the temporary, unnatural glow in Jay’s eyes than any charisma, but they let the matter go.

Later it begins happening to Evie; small, near-unnoticeable things. She knows where to find the best food, the best fabrics, the best spare parts–but she’s always been pretty good at that. Once, she decides to take a different route than the usual and happens to avoid falling pieces of rubble–surely its just coincidence. It develops further: she knows the answers to questions she shouldn’t, to questions that have yet to be asked.

Then one day, out of the blue, she says, “There’s a book of spells inside the freezer.” They look at her, surprised, and she, too, looks shocked at herself. It’s not worrying until she adds, “We’ll need it.”

And they do end up needing it, sooner rather than later: the next day Mal is startled and somehow turns her own hair green. The four of them manage to steal the spell book and she easily reverses the color change on her very first try; all without their parents knowing.

Thus, the crux of the matter: their parents not knowing. There is a tense moment where they all stand and stare at each other, knuckles pale, breathing shallow, nervous and uncertain. Carlos looks away first, this is not his decision, but Mal is the one to close her eyes next. She’s always wanted to impress her mother, and surely being able to perform magic on the Isle would finally do it. But they don’t know what will happen, don’t know how their parents will react. They decide to keep it a secret.

They manage to do so for five years; at which point they then find out their parents’ reactions. Unsurprisingly, it’s nothing good.

There are two things capable of taking down the barrier around the Isle of the Lost. One of them is the Fairy Godmother’s Wand, the artifact that originally created the barrier. The other? The other is a teenaged genius without magic, desperate to save his friends’ lives.


A/N: And thus I present: my Criminal/Detective!AU fic, Ain’t No Rest.

I’m going to be honest here–this fic is gonna be slow. Especially in comparison to Only Fools Rush In which I wrote in some kind of hazed, feverish, insomniac state. (Which I only now realize the irony considering this one is called Ain’t No Rest).

I actually have high hopes for this story; I intend for it to be a nice sprawling epic with crime and justice and magic and multiple groups with different, rational motivations in play. I will try to include every named character in the movie (and some not named in the movie, trust me, I have plans for some of the book-only characters) though I will be picking and choosing details as I please.

And I do plan on it being Benlos, but again, this is going to be slow. So it probably won’t get there for a while, and it won’t be the main plot.

That being said, I NEED YOUR HELP, please prompt me. Seriously, give me a character (or two, max) and a word or a phrase (or a sentence, max). I have a lot of general ideas, but it’s easier to focus on specific scenes and stuff with prompts. And, well, if it doesn’t fit into this story, I’ll try to write a drabble based on it anyway. It’s a win-win! So, again, prompt me, please? Either respond here or shoot me an ask. I look forward to it.