Fake Fic Summaries, 19/? The Glimmering edition (2017-01-17)

A/N: Strangest thing–went to sleep after gorging my brain on Yuri on Ice fic and the  FFBE game and somehow dreamed of Descendants. So… that’ll teach me to presume wtf is going on in my head.


The Glimmering

They’ve known since the beginning that Auradon is not nearly as perfect as it would like to believe.

They could never have guessed just how right they were.

Wow, okay, so that’s a basically useless summary am I right? But the story goes pretty much like this:

Sometime after the first movie, the four Lost Kids are witness to Auradon Prep’s strangest and most horrifying tradition:

Every year, for one month, the school goes through what is only known as “The Glimmering.” In which for that month, there are no teachers, and the students are left to fend for themselves against weird demonic planar creatures.

It was a bit Battle Royale meets HP and the Chamber of Secrets? In that, the creatures don’t kill the students but they do petrify/erase their memories and, over all, it’s quite creepy really. At least on the Isle of the Lost everything was straightforward–here? Not so much.

I don’t know why, but for some reason the Lost Kids weren’t sticking together for it–maybe The Glimmering happens suddenly and they were in different classes on opposite sides of the campus? Or maybe students are expected to fight on assigned teams?

Oh, right, there’s a competition aspect. There’s a lot of different possible achievements (though who or how these judgements are made… maybe the missing teachers monitor the situation somehow?) such as most Glimmers killed individually, most Glimmers killed in a group, most impressive kill, etc. etc. Apparently, there’s one achievement that hasn’t been reached but which everyone kind of knows instinctively and that is to kill the Glimmer Monarch.

Though bewildered and horrified, the Lost Kids are, unsurprisingly, rather good at The Glimmering. Mal has magic, Evie allies with the Science Club mostly comprised of the dwarves’ descendants, Jay has practically trained for this his entire life, and for some reason I had the most visceral inkling that Carlos and Dude survived because they stayed in the ventilation system and sniped Glimmers from ceiling.

In the Auradon adults’ defense, it’s not like they abandoned the students–it’s just that for that month, the plane on which the Glimmers exist is accessible only to kids. I don’t know, dream logic. It was quite cool in my head.


Some things that I remember happening:

  • Audrey and the cheerleaders last a scarily long time (though, admittedly, they did use other students as cannon fodder between themselves and The Glimmers).
  • The Glimmers have their own nefarious mission to try to get Ben, for an unknown, nefarious purpose.
  • Jay and Lonnie pair up–but pair up as in agree to fight together and watch each other’s backs, not pair up as in romance because as it turns out Lonnie is not interested in boys. But they do become friends, which is quite nice. And they’re quite badass, which is also nice.
  • Jane can access her magic in this plane–I don’t know what the repercussions of that are, but I’m sure it’s important.
  • Via the ventilation system, Carlos ends up in the PA system/Audio-Vis clubroom. For some reason, he also knows that certain sounds can throw off the Glimmers’ ability to perceive properly? And thus is the part in the movie where he blasts some epic song across the campus and the students make their big stand.
  • Evie and the remaining survivors of her Science Club minions stumble on an adult. But… like… a suuper aged ~mysterious~ adult who is trapped in the Glimmer plane and bestows wisdom from their years of experience. For some reason, I’m pretty sure it was actually someone who wasn’t that much older than them but who had aged so rapidly in the Glimmer plane that they looked ancient. Someone’s lost older sibling, I think, who had been forgotten by the kids but not by the adults.
  • During the big stand, Mal and Ben–because bizarrely my brain said they had to be the main characters again–are in a hedge maze which leads to the Glimmer Monarch’s lair. There’s a quiet moment where Ben possibly reveals that he knows what’s going on? Or at least why the Glimmers are so after him in particular? There’s a big reveal, anyway, which makes Mal–who is internally absolutely horrified by this weird month of inter-planar demon war–even more horrified and outwardly so. At Auradon? At the royal family? I don’t remember.
  • Mal does not beat the Glimmer Monarch. Nor does Ben. In fact, none of the students beat the Glimmer Monarch. Mal and Ben have to run away from the Glimmer Monarch (who, of course, gives chase) and they head towards the field where the big stand is happening. There the aged stranger shows up, rapidly de-aging, until they look like a teenager as well. They and the Glimmer Monarch are the ones that fight each other, the stranger wins but dies and with that the Glimmering is over. Forever.

… Now that I type it out, while I don’t think that’s what happened in my dream, I do think that narratively it would make the most sense if the stranger were either 1) Ben’s older sibling, 2) Jane’s older sibling, 3) an unrelated fairy descendant, 4) THE oldest Lost Kid taken from the Isle of the Lost by the royal family as a sort of… sacrifice? Offering? Stabilizer?

… It’s possible there are two strangers in the Glimmer plane, one a Lost Kid, one an Auradon kid. Unsure exactly.

Anyway, it was just a pretty cool dream. Surprisingly coherent for all that I can’t fill in ALL of the details.

Light It Up (Burn It Down) 3/?, (2016-04-30)

Ben is dreading the next communication from the mirror so much that when it finally happens he is completely taken aback by the question’s tone:

“Have you ever met a dragon?” The paint on stone asks, almost innocently.


Ben hesitates, “No,” he says, hoping this doesn’t turn into some other disheartening quest for a disheartening truth. Or worse, an automatic failure–yet another blue petal falling off the rose.

The letters change:

“Ask them what they love the most,” it demands, bizarrely, and refuses to clarify when Ben asks the mirror to do so.

How is supposed to ask a creature he’s never met a question which, even to him, seems awfully personal?

But, well, he supposes it could be worse. All he has to do is find a dragon, befriend it, and ask them a question–how hard could that be?

Here’s hoping he hasn’t jinxed himself.

Actually, surprisingly, it’s rather easy; the first step anyway. While there are no dragons in Auradon–for obvious reasons beyond the dwindling of magic in the world–Ben at least paid attention enough to know that dragons have very different reputations in other kingdoms. And although Ben wasn’t close friends with her, he was friendly enough with Lonnie in school that he doesn’t need an official appointment with the Chinese ambassador in order meet up for lunch.

“You want to meet Mushu?” Lonnie asks, incredulous laughter in her voice, an additional pleasure on top of her amusement at the flock of paparazzi trying to get a good shot of their table.

He hopes the tabloids won’t print something about an engagement–his public relations team still has to put down the occasional story about his and Audrey’s supposed on again off again romance, or his secret unrequited love for Princess Melody, or even random people claiming to be pregnant with his child.

“Yes?” Ben asks in response, because he doesn’t know why that would be funny.

“Really?” she says, starting to become honestly confused, and this is getting ridiculous. It’s not like they’re playing Questions. Why doesn’t she think he’s serious?

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, “It’s just that given Auradon’s… thing… about dragons, I figured…” she ends with a shrug.

During political negotiations, she is a far more eloquent speaker, but right now she is not the ambassador of China. She is the woman who was his chemistry lab partner in high school. The girl who he once ate an entire batch of cookies with in the middle of the night because she was feeling homesick and and he realized he’d never know what that was like. The girl who offered to punch Audrey on his behalf when he found out she was cheating on him with Chad Charming in senior year and didn’t know what to do–he declined the offer, but he did go to prom with her that year as friends and she spent the entire time talking about her little cousins while he confessed that he was afraid he was going to end up being a terrible king.

He doesn’t quite know how to explain to her that him meeting Mushu will help him not be a terrible king.

“Please,” he says, because being reminded of yet another one of his kingdom’s failings–and how far off is a cultural fear of dragons from being bigotry against a sentient species?–has keenly reminded him of why they are having this lunch in the first place.

“Well, I suppose don’t see why not,” Lonnie says with an entirely different sort of shrug, “We can go after this,” she adds, before resuming to eat her meal.

Ben pauses, confused, “Go… to China?”

She looks up at him, brow raised, incredulously amused again, “No… go to the embassy,” you idiot, she doesn’t say, “Now let me enjoy this very expensive steak you are paying for.”

Costly, yes, but still–surprisingly easy.

Ben has been to the Chinese embassy before, but always in his official capacity as king of Auradon and mostly for various galas where the name of the game was Dont Start A War And Don’t Get Engaged. Somehow he’s more nervous now, following after Lonnie as she leads him to a dragon.

It’s not fear–while he’s not completely free of cultural bias against dragons–he at least knows that this particular dragon isn’t going to try to kill him. He really doesn’t want to mess this up, for a lot of reasons, really. Lonnie is his doing him a favor, letting him meet Mushu, and he doesn’t want to offend either of them by saying something awful. And there is the whole matter of this being another one of the magic mirror’s strange quests–none of which he’s managed to answer or solve correctly. Yet.

“Mushu!” Lonnie calls out, after directing Ben to take a seat in one of the conference rooms and waving one of the embassy staff for some refreshments. Apparently the dragon has free reign of the embassy–at least when galas aren’t being hosted–because Lonnie just takes a seat as well and waits for him to arrive.

Ben hears Mushu before he sees him, a light staccato of claws against the floor, and a beleaguered voice from about ankle high complaining, “Xiao Lon! Girl, I know you did not just raise your voice as if that would summon me like that old cow!” And then a darting stripe of red winds it’s way up the table leg to stand in front of Lonnie.

“It worked, didn’t it?” she says, flippant, but brushing a finger down his back apologetically, nonetheless.

“Hmph, I am unappreciated around here,” he says, still beleaguered, but allowing her petting. Until the dragon sets eyes on Ben, “Now who’s this? You didn’t say anything about company. I would have put on a little show–a little smoke, a little fire. Some pizazz! Instant crowd pleaser,” he says, his claws tap tap tapping against the wood of the table as he makes his way towards Ben. He tries not to tense up too much, because no matter how small or friendly Mushu may be, he is still a fire breathing creature with claws and fangs.

Then again, for a good chunk of his life, Ben’s father was also a creature with claws and fangs–and while he couldn’t literally breathe fire, he was neither small or friendly.

“I’m Ben, Lonnie and I went to school together,” Ben introduces himself, because right now that’s who he is and his title doesn’t matter.

“Oh, oh I see,” Mushu says slyly, massive grin showing off his relatively massive teeth, “Someone’s trying to get my blessings. I don’t know, Xiao Lon, this one doesn’t look like he can take on Cri-Kee much less an entire army of Huns. But I guess, since you’re asking, unlike Xiao Lon’s dad who just went off and proposed and wouldn’t even let me plan her wedding…”

“No! Mushu, that’s not what he’s here for,” Lonnie says, embarrassed, because it’s one thing for tabloids to speculate about possible engagements, it’s an entirely different thing for family to do so.

Huh. Family.

Ben’s pretty sure he knows the answer to the question he came here to ask. But he still asks anyway.

Mushu looks at him, the expression of incredulous amusement on his reptilian face somehow the same as Lonnie’s, “What do I love the most? Boy, that is the strangest ice breaker I have ever heard. And, frankly, stupid. The answer’s obvious, even a cross eyed, blind folded, dumb hat wearing bureaucrat can see it,” the dragon says, dashing over to Lonnie to give her a hug, “I love baby girl and baby girl’s baby girl the most.”

He goes back to the castle after an additional three hours of talking to Lonnie and Mushu and heads straight for the magic mirror. The same sentence is there, not a question but a demand… or maybe a suggestion.

He tells the mirror about his day, about his meeting with dragons who love each other because that’s what family does. He’s not sure if he succeeded but he’s grateful for the experience regardless, so when the image changes from paint and stone to glowing rose he’s calm.

But instead of a petal falling, marking another failure, something strange happens: a pair of hands, one of them holding a knife, reaches into the frame and carefully cuts off a thorn.


A/N: Whoaaaaa, I bet you thought I forgot about this. Well guess what? I didn’t! I just hella procrastinated. 😛

Anyway, most of my Lonnie / Xiao Lon feels can be found here, but basically: I headcanon that Lonnie’s real name is Xiao Lon aka Little Dragon and the westernization would just to make Lon cutesy. Hence Lonnie.

Light It Up (Burn It Down), 2/? (2016-03-06)

Ben doesn’t mention the blue rose until Chip catches him staring at the magic mirror. And, given Chip’s history with floating magical flowers, his reaction is completely justified.

“I’m fine!” Ben protests as Chip bodily hauls him to the Fairy Godmother.

“Tell that to my porcelain childhood!” Chip yells back, panic making his word choice odd but no less accurate.

By the time Fairy Godmother gets to her office, she is greeted to the sight of her king being held in a headlock by his bodyguard. She smiles, even though this is not the first time she’s seen such a thing.

The situation quickly become serious, however, when the topic matter is explained to her.

“I’m not going to be losing my limbs any time soon, am I?” Chip asks, though what he’s really asking is if this curse is the same as the one from his childhood.

Fairy Godmother examines the magic mirror, the image it contains, and her brow furrows in concentration and concern.

“It’s not the same, that much I know for sure,” she says slowly, as if carefully laying down the foundation for something huge she doesn’t even know of, “Roses were never really my specialty, and curses even less so, but I have been researching ever since the jewelry store robbery…” She purses her lips, “I’ll let you know what I find. Until then… for how long has this been going on?”

“Ten days,” Ben says, and immediately gets an indignant glare from Chip.

“Well, since then only the first petal has fallen, correct?”

“Yes,” Ben nods, and only feels the slightest twinge of worry when the Fairy Godmother doesn’t say anything in response to that.

“I’ll hold on to this for now,” she says instead, gesturing at the mirror, and not so subtly dismissing them.

Ben, despite being her king, was also once her student, so he leaves. And where he goes, Chip follows.

The thing about most curses is that they are fairly easy to undo–but only under very specific parameters. The more powerful the curse, the simpler the cure… and vice versa.

But she doesn’t know what this is. As far as she can tell, nothing has happened to Ben–yet–or to anyone else.

Unless the rose is meant to throw her off the right track. Have her make the obvious connection between this spell and the one that afflicted Ben’s father–wasting her time trying to undo one curse only for it to turn out to be another.

The petals must mean something, though. Maybe not a countdown to escalation but a countdown to activation. Something with such a long activation time would surely be incredibly strong.

In which case… an activation of what, exactly? And what triggers a petal falling?

Before she can research the answers, the image in the mirror changes. Gone is the rose; replacing it is a painted stone wall with a question of its own:

“Who did Laurette Bibeau hurt?”

She brings the mirror to Ben, who reads the question and is immediately alarmed. Considering the last one led to a murder investigation, it makes sense to expect the worse.

Captain de Châteaupers is eager to jump on it, even with so little to go on–it must be galvanizing to see the perpetrator of his last case walk free even with all the impeccable detective work and evidence against Chad Charming.

Still, even determination and skill does not make up for the lack of information on Laurette Bibeau, much less her possible unknown victim. The Knight hits a dead end within the week–the only Bibeau is an old bar in a small village in the outskirts of the capitol.

Ben checks the mirror obsessively, worriedly–if a failed conviction caused a petal to fall, what would a stalled investigation?

Thankfully, a lead appears. From the queen, in fact, visiting her son for their biweekly lunch. He tells her about the question–but not the curse–more as a way to vent than anything else, so it’s surprising when Belle solves it.

“Laurette Bibeau?” She responds in surprise, “I haven’t heard that name in years.”

Ben stares at his mother in shock, “You know who she is?”

“I did grow up with her after all. She and her sisters were the only other girls my age in our village,” Belle explains with a small nostalgic smile, “We weren’t that close, but I know none of them would hurt anyone,” She pauses, considering, “The triplets did have terrible taste in men, but in their defense, it was a very small village.”

Ben squints in confusion, “I don’t understand,” he has no idea where this is going.

“Well, all of them wanted to marry Gaston when we were younger,” at this point, Belle’s mouth twists into a frown, “Of course, only Laurette actually succeeded.”

“Where is she now?”

His mother looks at him, incredibly sad, “She married Gaston,” she says, instead, as if that were answer enough.

In a way, it is.

Ben sits in his study, head propped up in his hands, staring blankly at the magic mirror on his desk. The sky has already gone dark, but he has yet to turn on the lights in his room. Only the low gleam emitting from the mirror illuminates the room.

He’s already passed the information on to the captain–who will continue his investigation out of professionalism by finding and interviewing the remaining two triplets–but Ben is quite certain as to what he will find: nothing.

Laurette Gaston née Bibeau has hurt nobody, that’s the point. She’s hurt no one and yet she was exiled to the Isle of the Lost because of who she married.

“Why are you asking me these things?” Ben asks futilely, fingers pulling at his hair in frustration, “Why are you making me do this?”

It’s rhetorical, of course, Ben knows why. The kingdom of Auradon is imperfect, it’s justice system clearly flawed, and these questions are making him confront these facts. Who better to correct these problems than the king? But no child wants to know this about his inheritance, about the home he grew up in.

The mirror does not answer him.

“Laurette Bibeau hurt no one,” he says, then watches in fascination as the image wavers and changes, like the reflection on the surface of moving water.

“So what?” the mirror asks, flippant and cruel and goading.

Ben is confused, startled–what does that even mean?

“So,” he begins, “if she wants to return to Auradon, then I can arrange it.”

The image flickers and twists, back to the blue rose. Another petal falls.

“No, wait!” Ben says, “What did I do wrong? What do you want?”

Again, the mirror does not answer him. He resists the urge to throw it against the wall.

Four days later, after the latest Isle barge run, Princess Melody visits Ben in person, bearing a package.

“Normally, I’d say something about how I don’t appreciate being a delivery person. But I think for this I’ll make an exception,” she sets the box on Ben’s desk and steps back, looking away to give him privacy as he unpacks it. Which he appreciates when the contents become clear.

Inside is an urn. The plaque reads: Laurette Gaston née Bibeau, Beloved Wife and Mother.

Date of death, three years ago.

Ben thinks maybe he understands why the second petal fell.


A/N: This took me a very long time. So I don’t feel guilty about being ten minutes late for my daily post 😛

Also, in case you didn’t catch it, Laurette is one of the three “Bimbettes” (aka the three swooning blonde sisters) from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Why did I choose Laurette? Well, just use the search function on the wiki page and read about her. SHE WAS CLEARLY THE MOST AMBITIOUS AND CUNNING OF ALL THREE SISTERS. Why did I choose Bibeau as their last name? Well, I basically looked up French surnames, went to the part of the list that started with “Bi” and found one that means ‘heavy drinker’ and considering they’re apparently waitresses at the village tavern it seemed to suit.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed 😀

(Still no Carlos yet–sorry about that @walker2702)

Light It Up (Burn It Down), 1/? (2016-01-25)

A little over four years into Ben’s reign, the Isle of the Lost goes dark.

In a literal sense, it’s always been dark: the island never lent itself well to development, and so only a small area was installed with power lines; the sun, too, was almost constantly obscured by fog. But now it’s also figuratively dark.

It takes two weeks for Ben to be informed that the cameras monitoring the most populated part of the Isle have stopped broadcasting. That the last barge of supplies has yet to come back.

The Isle of the Lost is still a part of his kingdom, even if it’s residents are not necessarily his people. He has a responsibility.

And then, news of burglaries and thefts come in. Small things at first–some food, some blankets, clothes. It’s disheartening, but not necessarily bewildering–even a prosperous kingdom like Auradon has homeless people.

Ben doesn’t think it’s related at first.

Except it keeps happening. More frequently and in greater quantities. And it spreads to other stores–a pharmacy, an electronics store, hardware store, a plant nursery–to the point where finally the police must admit to their king that they cannot stop it.

This series of crimes are the work of a well organized and strategic mind, these thefts are pointed and specific. It is no longer the actions of a single, desperate person trying to survive, but rather a group of people. A group whose motivations and background are completely unknown. A group who has yet to leave any evidence beyond the lack of clues.

Then a jewelry store is broken into.

While this particular burglary still has a distinct lack of mistakes on the thieves’ parts, it does bring up a lead. Two actually.

The jewelry store heist finally pushes the case up from minor crime to grand larceny, meaning that an actual detective is put in charge. The detective is an old man, more prone to talking about past cases than current ones–the old days when things were actually exciting–but that tendency proves to be beneficial. And worrying.

“If I didn’t know she was trapped on that rock, I’d think this was de Vil.”

Of course, that information isn’t nearly as worrying as the other lead. Because the actual jewels stolen? They weren’t the most expensive or the prettiest or even, in contrast, the easiest to grab and pawn off.

No, the gems stolen were done so for a specific reason, the Fairy Godmother says solemnly, those gems are ingredients for certain, powerful, magic spells.

Or curses.

After a month of seemingly random thefts and silence from the Isle, a message is sent to Ben.

Technically? All of the glass in the castle shatters except for one lone mirror. The hand mirror Ben’s mother received as a gift from his father–one of the few magical items in the castle.

Though the household is spooked, nobody is injured, which gives Ben a tentative sense of optimism when he finally sees the message:

“Where is Mr. Smee?” The mirror asked in stark letters on gray stone. No matter what Ben said, it would show him nothing else.

But what a strange message: unlike the rest of Captain Hook’s crew, Mr. Smee had not been banished to the Isle despite being the Jolly Roger’s boatswain and thus fairly high ranking amongst the pirates. The Darling family’s defense of him as an individual made it so that he could have lived a completely new life in Auradon. But Smee’s deep loyalty, even to a man as evil and cruel as James Hook, led to him working on supply barges to the Isle of the Lost.

… such as the last one that had yet to return. Did he defect? Was Mr. Smee somehow in charge of the radio silence from the Isle? Is that what the message is trying to convey?

Running a kingdom is not easy, and while Ben has many responsibilities as king, many matters he has to delegate–to his councilors, to the other royal families in charge of their regions–but he thinks he ought to check into this matter himself.

The nearest point to the Isle of the Lost is the resort town of Charmington. As the name implies, it’s under the rule of House Charming. One of the kingdom’s less… cooperative royal families. Ben remembers not being keen on Chad Charming during their Auradon Prep days, and his father certainly never enjoyed interacting with Charles Charming.

Of course, while that worked well for his father’s “out of sight, out of mind” philosophy in regards to the Isle of the Lost, it’s making this investigation rather… tedious for Ben.

Oh, he’s still going to be inspecting the warehouses in charge of shipping supplies to the Isle–he’s king, there’s not much he can’t do in Auradon–but apparently Chad is going to be dogging his every step. As a “guide,” of course.

This does backfire when Ben actually sees the warehouses though, “We’re sending them garbage?” He asks, his outraged question bouncing off the walls. The stench of the so-called supplies is disgusting, but not as much as what it means.

Ben knows that the Isle depends entirely on the barges–there’s a limited amount of arable land and useable resources, even if they had the tools to do anything–and it’s frankly nauseating that they’ve been living off of Auradon’s scraps. No, not even: Auradon’s waste.

Has this been happening all along?

Chad’s face is pinched, brow furrowed almost in irritation at being caught. But it completely shutters in fear, going pale, when Ben asks the question he came to Charmington for:

“Where is Mr. Smee?”

The Knights of Auradon is a law enforcement agency beholden to the greater good of the kingdom, not royalty. Ben is relieved when Captain de Châteaupers arrives because he knows the matter will be in good hands. The Charmington police department cannot be trusted for this: as it is, he’s pretty sure an innocent man will be sent to prison in Chad’s place anyway. The Charming family can certainly afford the best lawyers, given how much they made by shipping trash instead of supplies and pocketing the money for themselves.

Ben leaves the town, a sour taste in his mouth, and he channels his anger into reassigning the Isle of the Lost supply route. The House Atlantica is fair, and though their region is farther from the Isle, they have a stronger ocean presence. Negotiations with Princess Melody go well–at least one thing in this situation is.

The Knights find the body four days after they begin their investigation, wrapped in tarp and weighed down by cement blocks beneath the pier. It’s bloated and decayed, a horrifying thing on which the coroner can only give estimates. Over a month, for sure, but more exact is impossible.

It’s enough, though. Enough to connect the burglaries and the message. He doesn’t know how to control his mother’s mirror–it’s still displaying the same question–but he takes time out of his busy day to read the Knights’ reports out loud, hoping it will appease whoever is on the other end. Whoever is demanding justice for a man that would have been forgotten otherwise.

When Princess Melody sends word of her House’s first successful supply run to the Isle, she also sends news that the missing Charmington barge was sent back as well–the captain unharmed but, somehow, missing his memories of the past two months. She also includes the encounter her House’s captain had with the lone islander who greeted him on the docks.

The captain pointedly remarked on how foggy it had been, how only the docks jutting into the ocean was visible, the rest of the Isle hidden from sight. He described a young woman, purple hair and green eyes, and her brief message.

“The supplies are appreciated, but we are not appeased.”

An alarming statement, Ben thinks, upon hearing it. He shoots a look at his mother’s mirror, never far from him these days. Nothing changes, it still asks after Mr. Smee, even though Ben continues to read aloud to it updates on the case.

For a few weeks, he doesn’t quite forget it, but he is no longer so actively concerned. The burglaries have stopped completely–likely because they already have what they need–and the justice system chugs along, the case switching hands from Knights to lawyers.

Yet again, Ben is reminded of how imperfect his kingdom is, when Chad Charming walks free and an Andrew Baker is thrown into jail instead. Something is rotten in Auradon, and something must be done about it.

From the corner of his eye, Ben spots the mirror’s image changing. When Ben gives it his full attention, he sees the question disappear and, in its place, a blue rose appears, floating upright. A single petal wilts and falls off, drifting slowly, ominously, and downwards out of view.


A/N: I’ll be honest, @walker2702, your prompt spawned an absolutely fascinating AU in my head which kind of blindsided me as I was writing it.

Like–I had no idea Mr. Smee was going to be mentioned, much less murdered by Chad Charming. I had no idea there was going to be a rose curse. I had no idea Carlos wasn’t even going to appear in this even though I kept writing with the hope that he would appear.

So I guess this means I’ll be writing a part two for this?

😀 I’m excited, I missed writing Descendants. So thanks, walker2702!

Outliving The Ruins, 2/? (2015-11-26)

When she was younger and far more reckless with her magic, the Fairy Godmother was once called the Blue Fairy.

Like most other elements, Air has a specialization, too–but where Earth has Metal and Fire has Lightning, Air has more in common with Water. Water which can heal, which can turn a person’s blood against them.

Water is the body, but Air is the spirit.

She brought a wooden puppet to life once.

Surely she can bring a daughter into this world, too.

“Please,” she whispers, holding the still, tiny body to her chest, “Please.”

On a moonless night, several hours after her birth, Jane breathes her first breath.

The last Avatar was originally an Earth bender, a masterful one at that. From a stone, he gathered and extracted all of its metal and formed a magical sword. The sword that would one day choose Arthur as king.

That Avatar had trained Arthur, had brought him to the Spirit World, bestowed upon him a wisdom that would one day unite all of Albion into a single kingdom.

Of course, that union lasted only for a very short time, the separate kingdoms splitting apart not long after King Arthur’s death. Earth endures, but the loss of his student had the Avatar retreating into isolation for the rest of his long life.

Merlin died only a few years after seeing Albion reunited under a new name.

Mal was born with the impossible conviction that she would one day return to her rightful place–beside the king of Auradon.

Ben remembers being small and sitting between his parents. He remembers the smell of old books and the warm sunlight shining through the library’s windows. He remembers the way they looked at each other, soft and in love.

He remembers hearing about their story–from them, from his grandfather, from the rest of the household–and thinking that one day he’d like to fall in love, too; to love someone so much as to defy society.

Except he also remembers the way everyone would gloss over just how his father survived Gaston’s attacks. He remembers how his mother would only play in the snow with him and Chip, always with a secretive smile on her lips.

He remembers, fuzzily, being sick for such a long time–no manner of medicine able to cure him–and finally recovering under his mother’s cool, glowing hands.

Bending is dangerous–the other royal families say–except for the Fairy Godmother, benders are villains in waiting.

It’s been a decade since Ben saw his mother. It’s been a decade since Ben learned his father was a coward.


A/N: Related to this previous drabble. I guess you can consider this the Auradon side.

I’m not very keen on the Merlin section but… mreh. And, I know Albion is only meant to be the United Kingdom but in this weird amalgamated, modern-day-set Disney world, I figure it wouldn’t be too out there to imply that Albion = medieval Auradon…

As for the Ben+parents’ section, uh… given what we see of Beast/Adam and Belle in the movie, I figure that if Belle were a waterbender (healing tears, snow fight, etc) and Beast/Adam were under pressure from the other royal families well. Even though Beauty and Beast’s “evil” was human arrogance, the other kingdoms suffered under magical/bending villains.


Untitled Descendants prompt response drabble (2015-11-20)

The first time, he doesn’t notice. Ben is a tactile person, he grew up with a father who would casually ruffle his hair when happy, a mother who would gently rest a hand against his cheek to show she cared. Touching is communication, is affection.

And so when he reaches out to place a hand on Carlos’ shoulder he doesn’t notice it. Doesn’t think much of the way Carlos tenses under his hand, how he curls away; attributes it to Dude and lingering traces of Carlos’ fear.

Ben doesn’t notice that first time.

Tourney means physical contact–tackles aren’t allowed, but checking happens frequently enough. It’s not so bad, everyone’s padded, but the first few times, Carlos makes like a turtle and huddles under his shield.

“No, you can’t just hide,” Ben says, pulling the shield away and offering Carlos a hand up; he hesitates before taking it.

“Well what’s the shield for, then?” Carlos shoots back, more than a little frustrated at their lack of progress. Scoring was easy to pick up–accuracy and speed something which came easy to him–but checking practice sucks.

Ben considers it, tries to articulate the thoughts that a culture of knighthood has instilled into him, “A shield protects you, yes, but it’s so that you can push forward and act,” he smiles, because that seems about right.

Uncertainly, Carlos smiles back.

“Why don’t we call it quits for now? You did well today,” Ben says. This time, when he reaches a hand out to Carlos, he notices the flinch and pulls back immediately. But he accredits it to checking practice and nothing more.

It’s not that Ben is watching Carlos–except for how he kind of is. He’s looking out for all of the Lost kids, really, wants to make sure they’re settling in okay. And if he focuses his attention on Carlos more than the others, well, that’s only because the other three seem to be handling the other students well enough on their own.

But as he watches, he begins to see a pattern.

Carlos has no problem picking up Dude and, for want of a better word, cuddling whenever he pleases. He also has no issues sharing personal space with his fellow Lost kids, drawing comfort from the closeness of his friends, or leaning in to share whispers with Evie–short white hair mixing with long blue. But it’s when touch is made that Carlos freezes.

The other Lost kids know it, too, and seem to accommodate in their own way. Evie flows around him, looping their arms together without any contact, until Carlos eases into it himself. Jay’s roughhousing is playful at heart, the way wolf cubs tussle and tumble with one another; even then, Jay will pause after initiating contact, to let Carlos adjust, before continuing. Mal and Carlos hardly ever touch, but in the rare occasions that happens, she looks him in the eye as a form of nonverbal warning before touching him.

It’s courteous, which isn’t a word Ben would think to use for the Lost kids, so it must be important.


A/N: So… this is a very very late response to anon’s prompt here and it… uh.. doesn’t really fill the prompt. So double sorry, anon (… or @jalencolbert?)

I had been hoping to put it into Ain’t No Rest, but since that’s on hiatus, I felt bad about letting it languish unfilled… hence this drabble.

I know you probably wanted some cute flirty touching but all I could think about was how Carlos is unused to positive contact and would be very touch shy. So I guess this could be considered “pre-slash” Benlos…

edit: now posted on ao3 here

Ain’t No Rest, part 10/? (2015-10-16)

All of this is very surreal, Ben thinks, as he carefully pokes at the scrambled eggs in the frying pan in front of him. Him, in pajamas, standing in his kitchen cooking a very late breakfast. His ex-girlfriend, perfectly dressed, sitting poised in one of the tall chairs for his dining table across from his current houseguest. An escapee from the Isle of the Lost.

“The season that you took over was my favorite, really,” Carlos says candidly, before smearing a thick layer of jam on his toast and shoving half of it into his mouth.

An escapee from the Isle of the Lost who is somehow better at media runaround than Ben–even though he’s been trained on this since childhood and again as part of Knight lessons.

“I’m not surprised, that season was the most popular even in other countries. A fresh face does wonders for a dying series. Although, I didn’t know you got reception on the Isle,” Audrey preens, delicately sipping at her no-pulp orange juice and leaving a pink lip stain on her glass.

Beneath the table, Dude has settled into a reluctant silence, his Audrey-induced growling abated mostly by Carlos’ gentle and rhythmic foot nudging.

Bemused, Ben turns back to the frying pan.

“We don’t. Well, not really. It’s more like we don’t have TVs on the Isle to receive signal. But I’m pretty good with machines,” Carlos says through a mouthful of food.

In disgust, Audrey looks away, “I suppose you don’t have manners on the Isle, either?” Half-heartedly she adds, “Is that why you left?”

Even Ben knows how much of a reach that was, and he figures the eggs are as good as they’re going to get. He turns off the heat, scrapes them onto two plates, and sits himself at the table as well. One plate goes in front of him, the other in front of Carlos.

“You sure you don’t want any, Audrey?” he asks, mostly sarcastic.

“As if,” She scoffs, “If I remember your cooking correctly, those eggs are probably somehow runny, rubbery, and burnt all at the same time.”

And… well… she’s not wrong. Ben pushes around the mess on his plate.

“They taste okay to me,” Carlos volunteers, after trying a bite. It must not be a lie because he keeps eating them, but Ben can’t help but mirror Audrey’s skeptical expression.

“Really?” Audrey asks, no longer a reporter but a person honestly mystified.

“They smell okay, so it’s already a lot better than the eggs on the Isle,” Carlos says with a shrug.

“Okay as in what?” this time, Ben asks.

“Okay as in not rotten,” Carlos clarifies, “Eggs are kind of a luxury on the Isle–non-spoiled ones, anyway–they are a good source of protein and all that. But they aren’t all that high a priority during barge runs, even if we’ve been getting first pick. And it’s rare to actually find a non-broken, non-spoiled egg so…” he shrugs again, though his shoulders don’t quite come back down after, and focuses on his breakfast.

Ben and Audrey look at him, then at each other, ill at ease. Of course rubbery, burnt eggs would taste okay in comparison to rotting food. Having no TVs is one thing. But not having edible food? Barge runs?


“What was life on the Isle like?” Audrey breathes out, horrified, somehow thumbing guiltily at the condensation beading along her glass of orange juice.

Carlos glances towards Ben for something like reassurance, then faces Audrey, “Is this still off the record?”

Audrey hesitates, and for that second Ben earnestly shoots her a glare, but she rallies herself. All of her emotions–her shock, her pettiness, her concern–tucked away behind pure professionalism. “Do you want it to be?”

Carlos answers.


A/N: I swear to god this story! Argh! Literally every chapter I have one thing planned and instead it goes in a completely different direction. I am barely stringing together a sentence when suddenly my brain goes–oh, wait, what if instead of that thing you already plotted out I did this thing instead? WHYYYYYY BRAIN WHYYYYYY.

That being said, because I have no idea what this story is doing I am even more invested in writing this because I AM SO CURIOUS AS TO WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Ain’t No Rest, part 8/? (2015-09-29)

Carlos wakes up to a persistent ringing noise, a small furry face huffing dog breath right into his nose, and in a bed that definitely isn’t his. He’s not sure which problem to fix first–isn’t sure if he should even bother to fix anything. He’s on the edge between sleep and wakefulness and it’d be pretty easy to slip back down into sleep.

Except for that damn ringing noise.

Carlos groans, alerting Dude to his conscious state, and he has to move his head away from Dude’s well-intended but currently unappreciated doggy kisses. Might as well stick his head underneath the pillow to muffle the noise as well.

Prey having escaped, Dude jumps down off the bed and out the slightly ajar door. The doorbell, for that’s what the ringing must have been–though the doorbell at Hell Hall sounded different than that–stops, too, leaving Carlos in peace.

For about three seconds.

Because then Dude starts barking and growling, and then there’s the Knight’s voice saying something, and someone else’s voice–a woman’s–shouting back and nope. No way is Carlos going to be able to sleep through this.

Quietly–not that he would be heard over the ruckus happening outside his room–he tiptoes out of bed, straightening the sleeping clothes Ben loaned him as best he could. Without the tough leather of his jacket, or his steel-enforced boots, he feels soft. He feels vulnerable with his gang so far away–they’ve never been so separate before, even before they became a gang, the Isle is so small.

But Evie said he would be safe with the Knight, with Ben. He smooths his hands over the soft, plain shirt, before stepping closer to the bedroom door.

The voices become more distinct–actual words instead of just noise–and eavesdropping is a perfectly legitimate form of information gathering.

The woman’s voice curls around Dude’s continuous barking and growling, “–can’t believe you still have this mutt. This whole kind to animals phase was acceptable in high school, maybe, but we’re adults now, Benny–”

“Dude isn’t a phase!” Ben interrupts, almost a growl of his own, “And how did you even get in?”

“You gave me a key, Benny-boo, don’t you remember?” The woman says, high, lilting, like she owns the place.

Carlos can feel his muscles tense, preparing to flee. It reminds him of their mothers, back on the Isle, how everything they wanted was so easily taken.

“That was when we were still dating, Audrey, I asked for my spare key back.”

“And I gave it back,” the woman, Audrey, responds coyly, “After I made a copy, of course…” And maybe that was meant to be flirtatious, the pause in conversation implying some kind of seductive motion that Carlos can’t see, but instead:

“Will you shut that mongrel up!” She shouts, clearly irritated by how unromantic a barking dog can make a situation.

For some reason, it almost makes Carlos smile, even though he peeks out the door in concern for Dude. He knows what it’s like to be on the wrong side of that kind of irritation. Knows what it’s like to be on the wrong side of that phrase, actually.

The apartment size and layout being what it is makes guest bedroom door visible to the rest of the apartment. Extremely so.

So despite how quiet Carlos is in comparison to their argument, his movement is still very obvious. Three pairs of eyes catch on him and immediately Carlos regrets his actions.

To be honest, Audrey doesn’t look like much of a threat; she doesn’t look real–all pastels and perfectly put together–it’s entirely different from the world Carlos is used to on the Isle. Where grays and browns are the default, and colors are bright and loud and poisonous.

But Dude runs towards Carlos, wheeling around and standing guard, hackles raised and growling in her direction. Even Ben, from his spot further away, takes a few steps closer.


But Audrey is already near, and Dude not much of a deterrent. She turns towards Carlos, and smiles.

“Carlos, is it?” She asks, and there’s something in her hand, something she’s pointing in his direction. “Benny didn’t tell me he had a guest over.”

“Damn it, Audrey, I said no comment!”

But Audrey ignores him, focussed entirely on Carlos, “How about an interview?” She asks, recorder already on, “An escapee from the Isle of the Lost? My ratings will go through the roof!”


A/N: Ta-da! Ain’t No Rest update.

Surprise, Audrey is in journalism.

Also, bigger surprise, I actually barely made my midnight deadline! Wooooow.

Ain’t No Rest, part 7/? (2015-09-22)

Ben has no idea what the hell he is doing. Stopping a prisoner from getting harassed, sure, okay. Offering his own home as a place to stay? What.

“What am I doing?” Ben exhales, hands tightening their grip around the steering wheel. It’s six in the morning, the sun peaking over the horizon, and the roads are beginning to fill with other cars–early commuters, or morning deliveries and the like.

Carlos, who got a few hours of sleep in the holding cell, is nonetheless dozing in the passenger seat, head lolled back against the window. With his hair drying out into fluffy tufts, he doesn’t look like a threat to Ben who, even running on fumes, is a highly trained Knight.

Then again, it wasn’t Cruella de Vil’s physical prowess which made her so fearsome.

It’s very possible that Ben might die today.

“Fuck it, I’m too tired.”

Ben pulls in to his assigned parking spot, thankfully not stolen by anyone–though, really, who would that early in the morning. He hesitates for a few moments, unsure exactly how to wake up his passenger, before reminding himself that he is in fact a fully trained Knight and probably has several inches and several pounds worth of muscle on Carlos. There’s nothing to be worried about.

As it is, when Ben gently nudges his shoulder, Carlos’ reflexive flailing does manage to smack Ben in the eye. He ends up banging his own head into the window, though, so the two of them spend the next couple of minutes moaning in pain.

“Ow, okay, well. We’re here,” Ben says, inanely, rubbing gently at his eye. Oh god, he’s so tired.

Carlos says nothing in response, but follows Ben to his apartment easily enough, yawning all the way.

Ben’s apartment is on the third floor which, normally, means an invigorating walk up the stairs but at the moment is a gruesome climb that has both he and Carlos dragging their feet, nearly misstepping, and tripping on multiple occasions.

“Welcome to my apartment,” Ben says around a yawn, scrounging for the dregs of manners buried deep beneath the heavy weariness. Carlos, too, looks just as ready to go back to sleep.

Until Ben opens the door, that is; at which point Carlos screams and throws himself backwards until he hits the wall of the hallway with a loud bang.

Alert now, Ben scans his apartments for threats, sees nothing, looks again for anything even remotely scary, and only sees his apartment. Kind of messy, but not too bad.

Oh, and Dude who, being so small kind of just… walked below Ben’s line of sight to leave the apartment and sniff in interest at Carlos. Carlos who appears to be scrabbling at the walls in an attempt to climb out of reach.

Confused, but strangely, a little charmed, Ben reaches out to lift Dude up and away. “It’s just Dude. He won’t hurt you. He’s my dog,” It might be more accurate to say, he was a stray dog that wandered the campus of Ben’s high school until Ben decided to just take him home after graduation.

Carlos does not look at all reassured.

“Have you… not seen a dog before?”

“There aren’t any on the Isle. Mom says–” Carlos starts, only to cut himself off with a shuttered expression. Probably deciding it’s for the best not to bring up his mother, cop killer, around someone who works in law enforcement.

“Well, I don’t know what you’ve been told. But this particular dog is friendly. He’s just curious. Here, do you want to pet him? He likes it when you scratch behind his ears.” Ben says, carefully stepping closer so Carlos can reach easily.

It seems to work, Dude licks playfully at Carlos arm and the boy smiles back. Ben can feel the brief rush of alertness fade away, back to the persistent sleepiness.

“Okay, let’s get you settled inside, so all three of us can hopefully get some rest,” he says, about to lower Dude to the ground but deciding instead to hold him out to Carlos. Tentatively, Carlos reaches out, and Dude transfers easily between them.

Dude stays in Carlos arms the entirety of the quick tour–guest bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room–and when Ben retreats to his room, no more self-appointed obligations in sight, he sees Carlos set Dude gently into his doggy bed in the living room, only for the dog to hop back out and follow Carlos to the guest bedroom.

Well, they do say dogs are a good judge of character.


A/N: ARGH, okay, okay. I don’t know why this series is so frustrating to me. BUT I’M GOING TO DO THIS… BELIEVE IT.

I have maybe been reading too many Naruto fanfic. But is there really such a thing as too many?

Ain’t No Rest, part 5/? (2015-09-16)

Carlos is trying his best to stay strong or, if not that, then at least silent–trying to mimic his friends’ confidence in the face of a stream of strangers and bureacracy–but it’s been growing steadily more difficult as time passes. Especially with the Knight just… sitting in front of him.

It’s not like Carlos is going to snitch, but the fact that the guy’s not even trying to get him to talk is weird. The guy is weird. But maybe that’s just what people from Auradon are like.

Carlos startles when a knock on the door interrupts their lack of a conversation, but he keeps staring at the Knight. It’s not eavesdropping if they’re talking right there in front of him, and anyway, it’s about him so Carlos has a right to listen.

He was never one for stoicism, and so when he sees the Knight find out who he is–who is mother is–Carlos bares his teeth.

Carlos is put into a holding cell after the big reveal, so they can figure out what to do with him in relative peace. He knows he’s not the most physically intimidating, but no doubt the mere idea of an islander escaping their precious barrier is something that scares the shit out of Auradon. He’s a manifestation of their nightmares–born and raised by one of their bogeymen.

And so he smirks, and sits, and waits.

He is shocked awake with a splash of cold water. He jerks and splutters, hearing the sounds of sneers and laughter, before he blinks the water from his eyes.

Two of the officers–not Knights from what he can tell of the uniforms–stand outside his cell. A bucket noticeably hanging empty from one of their hands.

Carlos does not break his silence, though he does internally curse that the fear of his heritage has already worn off.

“Told you,” One of them says, the one with the bucket, “He’s not much to look at.”

“Caught on your first heist? Not as smart as mommy dearest?” The other sneers, though Carlos does catch the way the phrase stumbles as it passes the officer’s tongue; as if it’s curdling in his mouth as he speaks. The possibility of Cruella de Vil hearing anyone mock her, at least, a twisting trepidation.

With her reputation, it’s not so far off base. She had been a terror to the authorities in her prime. A suspect for dozens of heists–though never officially proven until that last one. Each of them had been ruthlessly successful, planned perfectly, outwitting her opposition at every turn. She didn’t care about collateral damage caused to bystanders and the police sent after her. In fact, the one task force formed in an attempt to stop her received a present of an incendiary nature. Needless to say, Cruella de Vil is a name to be feared.

There’s a damned song about it.

But he’s not his mother… even if everything is going to plan.

He bites that back, though. He doesn’t like these two assholes thinking that the heist was anything less than successful but he stays silent. And anyway, Carlos being incarcerated is part of the plan; a secret part of the plan.

So he just smiles–the way Mal would in the face of any weakness, the way Jay does after an unnoticed pick pocket, the way Evie smiles at an unsuspecting victim–all sharp edges and barely concealed danger.

He’s not Cruella de Vil, no, but he’s an islander outside the barrier. And he’s not the only one.

“You little shit,” the uniform spits out, dropping his bucket with a clang and reaching for the keys to Carlos’ cell.

A little worried, Carlos sits up, but he doesn’t move away, doesn’t want to be the one to back down first. The door of his cell doesn’t creak open–the hinges well oiled, no rust in Auradon, not like the Isle–but the clatter of the bucket was enough to gather some attention, because before the officer can actually enter the cell the Knight from before calls out.

“What are you doing?” He says, a harsh reprimand, going so far as to bodily shove the officer away. The other officer disappears quickly, though from the way the Knight’s eyes flick to a ceiling camera, he won’t be able to hide.

Carlos doesn’t quite sigh in relief, but his muscles relax.

“I was just–” the officer starts feebly, trying to weasel his way out.

“You were just about to harass a prisoner,” the Knight says, then looks at the bucket and Carlos’ still wet hair, “To continue to harass a prisoner,” he amends.

“He’s from the Isle! He’s a fucking de Vil!” he shouts, twisting around the Knight in another effort to get to Carlos’ cell door, only to be shoved back again. Harder, until he smacks against the opposite wall.

“He’s as much protected by the laws as anyone else in Auradon,” the Knight says coolly, and at some unseen signal, several other Knights–probably called in while Carlos was sleeping–drag the officer away.

One of them hands a folded towel over to Carlos’ Knight–the first one, that is–before saying something, too soft for him to overhear, glancing at the ceiling camera, and leaving.

Then, it’s just like the interrogation room, just Carlos and the Knight.

He opens the cell door, but doesn’t step in. And for that, Carlos feels a rush of gratitude–one that grows when the Knight wedges the towel between the bars instead of trying to hand it over.

Carlos walks over and reaches for it gingerly, pulling away quickly, then beginning to pat himself dry.

“Technically,” the Knight begins, “the only crime we can prove you committed is trespassing. There’s no evidence of any breaking and entering or theft. So, you’re free to go,” the Knight says with a shrug, and he steps away.

Carlos stares, confused. This isn’t going how Evie said it would. Go where? He doesn’t ask.

But maybe something about his expression asks for him because the Knight continues, “As part of a law enforcement agency, I can’t tell you what to do or where to go from here,” and with another shrug, an almost casual movement if it weren’t for the fact that it turns his face away from the camera, “But as a private citizen I can tell you that I’ve got a pretty decent guest room in my apartment. And since my shift is over, I’ll be going home now.”

Then the Knight smiles, friendly, honest; nothing at all like what Carlos has been doing.

“I’m Ben,” he says, extending his hand out.

You’ll be safe with him, Evie had said, and Carlos trusts her even if he doesn’t trust this Knight.

Carefully, because he’s only ever seen it done on TV, Carlos shakes his hand.

“I’m Carlos.”



Also, I know all my laws are arbitrary and Ben offering Carlos a place to stay is probably illegal but, blah, whatever.