50 Scenes

Harry Potter - #05: Power - Yuck!

noscrubs12345 — Tue, 11 Mar 2014 19:24:40 GMT

Title: Yuck!
Author: noscrubs12345
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Remus/Sirius, Harry, Andromeda
Prompt: 005--Power
Word Count: ~2300
Rating: G
Summary: Harry learns the evils of broccoli and little sisters.
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Harry Potter was four-and-a-half-years-old, thank you very much, and he hated broccoli.

Kingdom Hearts II, #18, Closer, Table 5

splashie_xyt — Sun, 02 Mar 2014 11:06:54 GMT

Detective Conan/Magic Kaito - 045 Last - All-Giving

gladdecease — Fri, 25 Oct 2013 10:51:50 GMT

Title: All-Giving
Author: gladdecease
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito
Characters: Kuroba Kaito, Nakamori Aoko, Koizumi Akako, et al. in minor roles
Prompt: 045 - Last
Word Count: 2118
Rating: T
Warnings: None of AO3's major warnings apply, but there is a lesser warning among the additional tags.
Disclaimer: [insert witty disclaimer here]

( Kaito wakes up with the taste of salt in his mouth and a sharp pain in his side. )

Naruto - 36. melt : ice cream puddles

sundaymess — Sun, 09 Jun 2013 10:24:57 GMT

Title: ice cream puddles ♥
Author: sundaymess
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Uchiha Itachi & Haruno Sakura
Prompt: 36. melt
Word Count: 714
Rating: PG13
Summary: Itachi stumbles upon something that would forever change the path of his future in the form of one small bundle of pink.
Warnings: Non-massacre AU. Friendship.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Naruto - 43. gentle : act iv; multidimensional

sundaymess — Sun, 09 Jun 2013 10:21:51 GMT

Title: act iv; multidimensional ♥
Author: sundaymess
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Uchiha Itachi & Haruno Sakura
Prompt: 43. gentle
Word Count: 1950
Rating: PG13
Summary: One by one, Itachi would peel away the layers that separated them.
Warnings: Non-massacre AU. Part 4/10.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Doctor Who/Torchwood, Table #1, Prompt #14 - Sing

angstytimelord — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 20:23:42 GMT

Title: Birthday Wishes
Author: Tracy, AKA The Angsty Timelord
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters: Tenth Doctor/Ianto Jones
Prompt: Table #1, Prompt #14 - Sing
Word Count: 1,780
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Doctor surprises Ianto on his birthday.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Tenth Doctor or Ianto Jones, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

Birthday Wishes

Kingdom Hearts II, #17, Tomorrow, Table 5

splashie_xyt — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 07:39:00 GMT

Alice in Wonderland, the March Hare, Table 1, #50 writer's choice

karrenia_rune — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 18:44:33 GMT

Title: Unexpected Surprises
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland, general book series
Author: karrenia
50/50 Table 1, Completed
Character: the March Hare
words: 462
Prompt: #50 writer's choice
Disclaimer: the Alice books and the world that the characters who inhabit are not mine. They are the creations of the original author,Lewis Carroll.

"Unexpected Surprises" by karrenia

Much to the surprise of the March Hare, when he got up and uncurled from where he slept in his chair, sitting squarely in the center of the table, where the plethora of tea settings, forks, spoons, cream jar, and sundry other tea things had once sat, none of them all that clean, to begin with was an area that had been cleaned, and the contrast was quite startling.
But that was not what had made him wipe his bleary eyes with the back of his paws, no, not at all.

No, it was the stack of brown packages tied up with red ribbon with a white tag, with each of their names written out in bold, block letters. He blinked, and cautiously approached the table, wondering if he were still asleep and this was just a product of his over-wrought subconscious, but the packages did not disappear. He next thought that he would try pinching himself, when that failed to produce anything another than a squeak of pain, he decided that they were real enough, so he came to the table, and cautiously removed the one with his name on them, slowly enough so that it would not overbalance the stack.

With his package cradled in his arms he took a seat in a nearby chair, and sniffed, felt and juggled the package curious as to what might be contained inside. He read the tag, to the March Hare, with Her Majesty’s fondest regard and compliments” the tag read.

“Hmmph, that does not sound at all like our august ruler,” griped the March Hare, still one must never look a gift horse in the mouth, or is it the eye? I never could remember that right.”

At last he opened the package, pulling on the red ribbon and then opening the package. Inside was a plate of raspberry jam tarts, still warm from the oven. It all smelled and felt wonderful. Feeling a bit sheepish that the others were not there to share this unlooked for bounty with him, the March Hare, exclaimed, “Hallo! Hallo!” Mad Hatter, are you awake! I say, old fellow, there is a wonderful surprise awaiting you!”

Not receiving any response, the March Hare figured that he could not let the tarts get cold, so reached into the box and took up one of them, inhaling the aroma, and then popped it into his mouth. It taste even better than it had smelled, and chewed and rolled the flavor around on his tongue and then swallowed it. Although, he was quite hungry, he figured that he would enjoy them more if he savored the thought of them for a while, and with reluctance set the box on the table, and went to look for the Mad Hatter.

Alice in Wonderland, "A Stitch in Time, #40 writer's choice, Table 1

karrenia_rune — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 17:29:21 GMT

Title: A Stitch in Time
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland, general book series
Author: karrenia
Character: The Mad Hatter on Father Time and perpetual tea parties
Words: 425
Prompt: #40 writer's choice, Table 1
Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass books are the creations of
Lewis Carroll. The characters and the world that they inhabit are not mine, and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story.

49/50

"A Stitch in Time" by karrenia

He had once told the strange little duck that the reason for their perpetual tea-time was due to his running afoul of Father Time and the old tinkerer has taken his wrath out him in his own peculiar way. Even at this late remove, the Mad Hatter could not now recall what her response had been, but it did occur to him that the right of the queen and sundry royalty about holding several thoughts in their heads at any given moment really was quite unfair.

He reached for his pocket watch, dangling from the belt at his waist coat and thumbed it open with one hand; the other was currently tracing the faded and obscured delicate tracery of gardenia flowers around the rim of his teacup.

The Mad Hatter wondered if all of those old bromides about time were really true as they were meant to sound; such as a stitch in time saves nine? Or hurry up and wait, time is all we’ve got. On the flip side he also wondered if somewhere that old man was off somewhere making these up as he went.

His old comrade and fellow tea party participant seemed to be preoccupied with his own thoughts, or perhaps he was just musing over the quality of his buttered toast, or the consistency of the tapioca pudding.

He really did love tea, and all the fixings, and took the ritual of preparing and enjoying it quite seriously, but somehow a perpetual state of tea time did wear on one after a while. He began to whimper, then the somehow quite without his being aware of it, the melancholy feeling had turned into anger. He grasped its edges in his grip and felt it break off at the handle. Feeling rather disgusted at the waste of a perfectly good if a bit dirty and dusty tea cup, he rocked back and forth in his chair for a spell, taking several deep breaths.

Then, quite without being aware that he did so, he took hold of the milk jug and throws it into in a random direction where it spun end over end until it at last fetched up into a clump of river reeds.

The Mad Hatter, by now had worked himself into quite froth, his lower lip quivering with suppressed anger at the joke that had been played on him by Father Time, “Take that, Father Time, old bean!” he cried, and then his anger and energy at last spent, laid his head on the table, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Doctor Who/Torchwood, Table #1, Prompt #49 - Fortune

angstytimelord — Wed, 01 Aug 2012 23:05:31 GMT

Title: Good Fortune
Author: Tracy, AKA The Angsty Timelord
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters: Tenth Doctor/Ianto Jones
Prompt: Table #1, Prompt #49 - Fortune
Word Count: 1,648
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ianto reflects on how fortunate he is to have the Doctor in his life.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Tenth Doctor or Ianto Jones, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

Good Fortune

Alice in Wonderland (We're All Crazy Here) #21 pyschotic, table 1

karrenia_rune — Sat, 28 Jul 2012 22:12:51 GMT

Title: We're All Crazy Here (and Sometimes I Wonder About You)
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass-general book series
Author: karrenia
Character: the Jack of Hearts, the King of Hearts
Words: 513
Prompt: #21 psychotic, table 1
48/50
Disclaimer: Not Mine, the world and its inhabitants are the original creations of Lewis Carroll.

"We're All Crazy Here (and Sometimes I Wonder about You)" by karrenia

It is said that crazy is as crazy does. If that were held true then sanity or its counterpart could well be said to be in the eye of the beholder. Even as he made yet another mark on the wall of his cell, marking the passage of the sun’s downward track from one side of the chamber to the another; which meant that at least five days and nights had now elapsed since his punishment had been decreed, the Jack of Hearts realized that he felt that it had become the kind of punishment that no longer fit the crime.

It also had become the kind of joke, that no one even found remotely amusing any more.

He had tried to keep his anger and frustration at bay by whistling and singing, the guards who stood or rather slumped at attention outside of his cell door, had by now tired of brusquely ordering him to shut up and had adopted that ever so slightly dazed look that guards adopted that was a cross between bored and attentive.

The Jack of Hearts dropped the piece of charcoal that he’d been using to write on the stone walls and sat down with his legs crossed underneath him, rocking back and forth in a rhythmic fashion.

“I am not wrong, nor I am crazy, because then we’re all crazy and sometimes I wonder about our dear majesty, as well.”

“You are not wrong,” another voice answered him, but then one the one hand he had not been addressing anyone else because he meant it to be a rhetorical question; and on the other, he had carried other conversations since he’d been locked up, to the point where it no longer mattered if he answered himself or not.

“How so?” he asked.

“Because I’ve had time to consider it,” the other voice replied, and it was quickly followed by the voice’s owner thrusting his head past the sleeping figures of the guards. “My dear wife, is a wonder and a marvel but she does get shall we say, over-wrought at times. You, my dear boy, have suffered long enough, so you are, I am happy to say, a free man!”

“About time,” muttered the Jack of Hearts. “I was going absolutely stir-crazy in here!”

“Stir-crazy? I hadn’t heard of that form of craziness,” replied the King of Hearts, but then

I suppose that in this world of ours it does take all kinds.” With that he removed the door to the cell from one of his pockets and thrust into the keyhole, jiggling it around and around until it the tumblers in the lock gave with a snick and a snap, and the door sprung open.

The Jack of Hearts got up and strode out, all the while to the bemusement of the half-sleeping guards.

“Ah, I feel better already!” But aren’t you going to get into trouble with Her Majesty?” he inquired of the King of Hearts.

“Don’t worry your head none about that, sonny,” replied the King of Hearts. “I have got it covered.”

fic (Alice in Wonderland) Don't Cry over Spilt Milk-Weed, #11 cry, table 1

karrenia_rune — Wed, 25 Jul 2012 15:26:33 GMT

Title: Don't Cry Over Spilt Milkweed
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass-book series
Author: karrenia
Characters: Alice and the talking flowers
Words: 529
Prompt: #11 cry
Table 1
Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland and the characters and creatures who inhabit it are the original creations of Lewis Carroll. They are not mine.

"Don't Cry Over Spilt Milkweed" by karrenia

Alice lingered in the beautiful garden, stopping every now and again to bend over and take a whiff of the intoxicating scents of the various multi-colored flowers that lay spread out all around her like a living quilt. By now she felt that she had gotten over her initial shock of the idea of talking flowers, but she didn’t not want to become so engrossed here that she lost track of her purpose. The garden was beautiful, yes, but she still needed to keep moving if she wanted to find the end to her travels through the world underground.

Carried on an errant breeze she could only faintly detect a sound that seemed out of place among all the other sounds, the wind ruffling the leaves on the trees, tracing subtle patterns through her long blonde hair, the voices of the now quite sleepy pansies, daises, marigolds and other more exotic species of flowers and plants. At first the furtive and shuffling sound she dismissed as the movements of a small and furry animal, but when she turned so that the wind was at her back, standing perfectly still until she recognized the sound as someone crying.

It also came from somewhere near by her feet, but it was too loud and regular to be a dormouse. And she was familiar with the sound of a dormouse crying from when she had been a somewhat invited guest at the interminable tea party of the Mad Hatter and the March Hare.

She bent down and peered in the grass near her feet, and that was when she saw a very delicate purple pansy bud curled around a grass stalk, crying and sniffling.

“Oh, oh, dear, whatever is the matter?” asked Alice quietly.

“Is there someone there?” the tiny flower hesitantly asked.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I don’t know if you can or not, kind stranger,” the flower replied.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong and we shall see whatever can be done,” Alice remarked, for despite her presently quite strange surroundings she was a rather practical sort of young girl.

“You see, it’s like this. I was knocked loose by the breeze and I’ve been watching the monarch butterflies that come to feed on the milkweed pods in the grass, but now I can’t find my way back to my mother and our flowerbed.” Its eyes were tiny round holes of damp lilac-hued buttons, shimmering with moisture at the corners.

“How about I pick you up, and I promise to be careful, and we’ll find your mother together,” Alice said.

“Ooh, you would do that” The flower’s voice and manner abruptly took on a more hopeful tone.

“Yes, yes,” Alice replied.

“Then let us do that,” the flower replied.

As gently as she could manage Alice cupped her hands around the tiny flower and picked him or
her, or whatever it was up, and carried him from one flower bed to the next, until it indicated which one it belonged in, and she and after putting it back in place, she went on her way, the echoes and waves of the grateful and less so flowers echoing behind her.

Alice in Wonderland, "Queen for a Day, #32 eternal, table 1

karrenia_rune — Thu, 19 Jul 2012 15:52:02 GMT

Title: Queen for a Day
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass-books
Author: karrenia_rune
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 1,351
Summary: Alice reaches the last square on the chessboard and receives an unexpected
surprise.
Prompt: #32 eternal, table 1
Disclaimer: The world underground and the characters who inhabit are the original creations of Lewis Carroll. They do not belong to me and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story.

"Queen for a Day" by karrenia

Even as she traversed from one black and white square and onto the final corner of the gigantic chess board Alice could tell that a certain indefinable quality in the air or the ground had changed. It could have been just due to her own flagging wind or resolve, but the change was unmistakable. In a world where everything that she had known to be as true and as regular as supper bread no longer applied, such a fundamental changed was hardly surprising.

She’d encountered any number of eccentric characters and creatures throughout her journey, some had been helpful, encouraging, others less so; and yet others had been outright perplexing, yet oddly intriguing in their own way. And should she emerge from this world, that felt real as her own hands at the end of her arms, but at this point distinguishing reality from a dream no longer seemed as important as it had been when she had begun this journey.

She felt her way along the row of orderly hedges that ringed an elaborately cobbled courtyard fronting on a grand palace in the distance.

When she chanced to around from admiring the view, she caught sight of what at first appeared to be a whirling funnel of wind and white cloth, like a storm cloud in miniature, rushing toward with incredibly speed; but even as she marveled at this, the funnel gradually became larger and larger until it stood only a head higher than she, and came to a stop with the sound similar to that of a tea kettle coming to a full boil.

The funnel cloud stopped to draw in ragged gasps of air, and that done, reached up with slender white hands to fuss with the ivory and ebony pins in its pale hair. It was only then that Alice recognized the White Queen.

Alice smiled and then executed an elegant curtsey as she said: “Good morning, your Majesty.”

“Good morrow to you as well, my dear, Alice,” replied the White Queen. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“You have?” Alice exclaimed.

“Indeed,” the other replied, “Although, I must say that others who shall remain nameless were in quite adamant that this should never come to pass, or that they doubted your determination. She sniffed and then added. “I knew better. I saw it in you from the moment we first met.”

“Knew better about what?” asked Alice”

“I knew that a pawn could become a queen, given the right set of circumstances.”

Alice shook her head, “Me, a queen?”

“Why not, you’ve successfully completed the board and according to the rules of the game, anyone who does so can become queen for a day.”

“I should like that,” remarked Alice thoughtfully, “As long as it’s just for a day. I should not want to step on anyone’s toes, or know what to do with myself should I have to make decisions for everyone.”

“I could not agree more,” remarked the White Queen, “sometimes I have offered that same opinion to my counterpart, but honestly I sometimes feel that my words simply go in one ear and out the other. She can be very, shall we say, intolerable at times.”

With that, she grasped Alice’s elbow in a gentle but firm grip and escorted up to and through the wrought-iron gate and somehow slipped in between the bars in a sliding fashion that Alice could not quite grasp , for one moment they were standing on the outside and in the next they were thorough and onto the cobbles of plaza.

And in the next breath they were standing outside of the wide double-doors of the palace. In the back of her mind, Alice wondered if once she was official crowned queen for a day if she too would be able travel around like that.
**

In a rush of time that Alice only dimly registered the White Queen turned her over to a small army of maids who bathed her and primped and powdered and exclaimed over her appearance and raiment. For the life of her Alice could not ever recall a time when anyone had gone to so much trouble over her appearance. As she stood waiting for the seamstress to make some last minute adjustments to her the hem of her silk ivory-colored gown Alice had leisure to regard her own reflection in the floor-length mirror and had to admit that it did look very becoming, if a trifle too lacy for her tastes.

The White Queen came into the room just then and cooed over how lovely she looked and that she would be splendid, quite splendid.

Alice smiled and walked out of the dressing room on the White Queen’s heels.
**

They put on her a marble throne that had been scaled down to match her size and slender frame.

It was a bit chilly on even through the layers of silk and chiffon and lace but she figured it would be impolite to mention that fact, so she determined to make the best of it.

Sooner than she had expected the elegantly decorated throne room began to fill with a growing crowd of Wonderland inhabitants, the White Knight trooped in with a clank and a clatter and stood at parade rest with the butt of his halberd thumping onto the floor of the throne room with a loud and echoing thud.

He caught her eye as he paused for a moment and offered her an encouraging grin that seemed to say that he was proud of her for making this far. She might have been mistaken but she could also faintly detect the smallest glimmer of suspicious moisture at the corners of his eyes as well.

The next person to enter was the Duchess and then, with tea-cups and saucers balanced precariously , the March Hare and the Mad Hatter came in followed almost immediately by the White Rabbit, muttering all the while about how this would set his schedule back.

Other creatures trooped in and took up positions without any of the jostling and shoving for favorable vantage spots that they might otherwise have done under different circumstances.

The Queen of Hearts, with her flamingo croquet mallet clutched less than one elbow swept into the throne room looking imperiously all around her and refusing to meet Alice’s eyes.

The White Queen cleared her throat and yelled, “Silence!” There a stir around the room that sounded to Alice much akin to the murmuring drone of a buzzing bee hive, before the commanded was heeded.

“Ladies and gentlemen and assorted gentle-beings,” exclaimed the White Queen, thank you all for coming, we find this highly gratifying. This is a day long in coming, and some might have said one that was never going to be, but as we all know that hope springs eternal, and at long last, one has come to us who had the wit and the determination to not only make it from square one but also all the way to the last and final square! And at long last, I give you, Alice, your Queen for the Day!” All hail, Alice!”

“Hail, hail! Alice!” a chorus of mingled voices shouted.

“Hip, Hip, Horray! Exclaimed the White Knight as he let his halberd fall to the floor in order to reach up and wipe away the tears of joy that fell from his eyes.

“Pay up,” whispered the March Hare to the Mad Hatter.”

“I don’t owe you a thing, you poor excuse for a bad luck charm,” the Mad Hatter replied.

“Yes, you do, fifteen sand dollars, you promised to me,” replied his friend.

Alice smiled and waved at the diverse crowd as she felt was only proper, under the circumstances , and then said, once the initial hubbub had died down to a dull roar; “Thank you, thank you all, so much for coming to my coronation. Truth to tell, I never thought it would happen, I shall remember this day forever. Thank you ever so much.”

“Hooray for Alice!” cried the Mad Hatter and he was echoed by many others.

Kingdom Hearts II, #16, Fire

splashie_xyt — Tue, 17 Jul 2012 01:13:25 GMT

Alice in Wonderland, On Cats, Bells and Glass Cages, #05 glass, table 1

karrenia_rune — Mon, 09 Jul 2012 03:10:25 GMT

Title: On Cats, Bells, and Glass Cages
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass-books
Author: karrenia
Charcters: the King and Queen of Hearts
Rating: General Audiences
Summary: To Bell or Not to Bell a Cheshire Cat; that is the question.
Words: 461
Prompt:#05 glass, table 1

45/50

Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland and the world underground and the characters who inhabit are not mine. They belong to their original creator, Lewis Carroll or whomever owns his estate now.

"On Cats, Bells and Glass Cages" by karrenia

“It’s as clear as melted pond water after the early thaw that something had to be done here,” remarked the King of Hearts.

His spouse, the Queen of Hearts, snorted like a royal mare and then she began to sneeze, making white powder makeup on her face and neck and cheeks puff out from her like a shower of minuscule dandelion puffs.

However, he full well knew her volatile temperament. He was also fully aware of the fact that absolutely refused to let anyone gainsay her will,” refrained from making any comment on it.

“Dear, “she finally remarked, “It’s a valid idea in theory, but in practice, well, let us be candid, rather foolhardy. You would first have to find the peculiar feline, and once you do, he would be have to be fully solidified.”

She paused for a moment and held up her be-ringed hands up so that she could perform the precise calculations more easily, mouthing off the figures as she did so, “Well, the odds of that happening must be staggering, quite staggering. I’d say, at least a thousand to one.”

“Hmm, I was thinking more along the lines of a say a hundred to one,” he said.

“A Cat may look at a king, and a king may look at a cat,” she opined. “And I’m afraid that should we perforce make your idea into a royal proclamation, we can hardly make an exception for That Cat as we could for the least of his species.“

“A royal proclamation!” he repeated, enthused by the idea. “He would have to comply and I would not have to locate and then trap him in a glass cage and then put a bell around his neck.”

“My dear, whatever are you going on about?” she asked anxiously. “

“You see, the way I figure it,” he mused, “that if the Cheshire Cat wore a bell around his neck, that even where he to disappear into thin or thick air, as the case may be, with a bell anyone would be able to hear him coming and going, even that one could not see him.”

“Capital idea, old bean!” exclaimed the Queen of Hearts, “but where would we get a bell?”

“Hmm, I suppose we could have one custom-made.”

“Hmm,” she replied as she placed a fist to her chin as she mulled the idea over. “Excellent idea in conception, much more difficult in execution, then. I s hall have to give the matter more consideration.”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed and trundled along in her wake

Over her shoulder she shouted out, “What material were you thinking to make the bell out of?”

“Brass for the frame and a glass casing in the interior,” he replied.

“Quite tasteful,” she replied.

Alice in Wonderland, #36 ill, Table 1 The Minor Fall, the Major Lift

karrenia_rune — Sun, 01 Jul 2012 05:10:11 GMT

Title: The Minor Fall, the Major Lift
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass, general book series
Author: karrenia
Rating: General Audiences
Character: The White Knight
Words: 1,076
Prompt: #36 ill

Summary: The White Knights sets out to create his greatest invention, yet, but his endeavor is hampered not only but the lack of the proper components but also the realization that he might be allergic to at least one of the ingredients used in making it.

44/50, Table 1

Disclaimer: The Alice books and the character who inhabit the world underground are not mine a
and the original creations of Lewis Carroll or whomever owns his estate now.

"The Minor Fall, the Major Lift" by karrenia

As was usually the case whenever he hit upon an idea for the latest in a long line of inventions, he must immediately implement the idea or risk losing it. The slightest delay would mean a swift departure of the idea like the stuffing spilling out of an unraveling down pillow.

He last invention, which had he had been very proud of even though they did pain his feet and toes depending on which foot he wore them on and when his horse was going uphill or downhill at the time and in poor conditions. All that aside, this would be his greatest invention, yet.

After an hour or more of whittling the tubes and lining them out one by one on the packed earthen floor of the forest clearing he at last had assembled a collection of over two dozen.

Wound about on both the head and the butt of the tubes were streams of red, blue, and green silks that had come from his festival gear. He really did not mind very much at having to use it for the purpose of decorating his new inventions. After all, he could not recall the last time he had had been called upon to attend a festival or royal soiree.

He pushed the meandering thought to a back corner of his mind, and set to work filling the hollow wooden tubes with the mixture of his carefully gathered store of black powder.

It was a mixture of sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter) - with the sulfur and charcoal acting as fuels, while the saltpeter works as an oxidizer. He had more or less worked out the exact components of each, but even if his first foray into creating an exploding device designed to create a visual display, then he could always go back and try again.

He then went over to his patiently grazing mount and rummaged through the saddles bags until he found what he had been looking for, a rather battered but still quite serviceable matchbook.

He took one out, lit it from the bonfire he had used when he’d stopped to make camp for the night; and then lit the fuses of each of the wooden pole, one by one.
This effort was slightly hampered by the fact that both the wooden tubes were twice as high as the lanky knight, but he preserved. He said aloud, I shall call these penny whistles and sparklers.”

The wooden poles ignited almost immediately and began to burn with an intensity that he found most gratifying. The acrid reek of the burning black powder got into his nostrils as it was wafted this way and that by the wind. He smiled a small but gratified smile, but then he began to wheeze and sniffle and the corners of his eyes turned red and itchy, but he forced the uncomfortable sensation aside in pursuit of making an invention a reality.

However, his body had other ideas and he suddenly could not hold it any longer, the convulsive sneezing nearly knocked him over and he walked back over to the numerous saddlebags for a kerchief, sneezing the entire time.

His eyes were streaming with moisture, and his nose was red. Finally, the sneezing fit came to an end.

When it did, he could finally return his attention to his invention:

The black powder ignited almost immediately, radiating out from the wooden cylinders with a rapidity that quite astonished him, however, when the fire had begun to spread beyond his campsite and into the grass and hard-packed ground.

Finally, he realized that he must act quickly and rushed to put the fire out. He leapt forward and begun to stomp with his mattock-toed left foot ignoring the embers that shot out at him, until at last, the fire was out.

He stood for a moment, much in the manner of a stork wading in the shallows and reeds of a stream, beguiling the fish into a false sense of complacency as it glided along with the flow of the current.

It was only after a moment or two that he realized that the flaw in his initial design had been the usage of wood for the casings instead of metal. He teetered dangerously back and forth and then feel on his posterior, still regarding the now considerably worse for wear metal device he fashioned in place of an actual boot.

He finally removed the mattock and bent forward at the waist, not with considerable grunting and groaning and creaking, and tugged and tugged, until with a popping and snapping sound, a large slab of metal broke free. It was still hot to the touch and he was forced to drop it, for a moment, to land with a thud on the now somewhat browner grass and undergrowth.

At his back, his horse, which had backed off at the first sight and smell of the previous fire, had now approached where his master sat and stamped and snorted.

“Not to worry, old bean,” the White Knight remarked to the horse. “I know what I’m doing,” he wheezed, and shook his head, reaching to wipe away the moisture and grittiness out of the corners of his blue eyes.

The horse snorted and tossed its head back, shuffling its feet, as if to give its opinion on the matter.

The White Knight, laboriously rose to a standing position and picked up the now slightly
cooler piece of metal. He held it in his hands, turning it around and around, and holding it up to the light of the slanting rays of sunlight that pierced down through rents in between the close-leaning trees in and around the forest clearing.

“Hmm, dear fellow, that you may have the right of it, after all. I had hoped to create a device that now only would produce an explosive reaction, that it would also provide a means of diversion. It would seem that I must go back to the drawing board.”

The White Knight heaved a sigh and dropped the metal slab back down to the ground. “It will still be a good idea once I have worked out further details.

He stole a significant look at his horse, that particular beast rolled its eyes. “Don’t look so downcast, there’s a good fellow. After all, where’s there’s a will, there’s a way. And I must say that I am much enamored of the idea of an excellent entertainment that will astonish all who see it.”

Alice in Wonderland, #34 darkness, table 1, Shadows before the Sun

karrenia_rune — Mon, 07 May 2012 16:44:59 GMT

Title: Shadows before the Sun
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass, general book series
Author: karrenia
Rating: General Audiences
Words:392
Character: the Cheshire Cat
Summary: A look at the Cheshire Cat, his thoughts and ability to disappear the nature of shadows.
Prompt: #34 darkness, Table 1
Disclaimer: The Alice in Wonderland books are the original creation of Lewis Carroll and as such do not belong to me. I claim only the words of the fic.

"Shadows before the Sun" by karrenia

He can slip in and out of the cracks between the floorboards or is almost but not quite like slipping in between the here and now.

There’s a duality present that he enjoys and more than likely will never tire of any time soon. When he does vanish, quite literally into thin air it is never all of one piece or all of a sudden unless he chooses to do so. The question that he must ask himself: If there can be a cat without a grin, or a grin without a cat?

He arced his body length-wise in a tightly strung bow shape and his tails fluffs out behind him, the red and pink stripes highlighted by the noon sun and causes his shadow to stretch out behind him.

He smiled a toothy grin that shows off what the Cheshire Cat has long considered one of his best assets and considered the nature of shadows and how they change varying on the time of day, the position of the sun and where one is at the time.

The cross section of a shadow is a two-dimensional silhouette. The sun causes many objects to have shadows and at certain times of the day, when the sun is at certain heights, the lengths of shadows change.

At the moment he is a visible as he ever is likely to become, but should he choose to do so, he can fade away gradually, a fore leg here, a hind leg there, and more often than not, the last thing to go become he vanishes altogether, is the grin. No other creature in the world underground can do so. Although, until now, he has never really thought about where if anywhere that he goes when he does vanish. It has never been a concern, and it is not one now; it’s just mere curiosity that brought it up at all.

As a cat he is well aware of the old saying about what curiosity has done to felines in the past, but much like many an old saying there is a kernel of truth to it.

He dug his claws into the bark of the old oak tree where he has been crouched, musing, thinking and wondering about things; and then straightens himself out and lies down in a more comfortable position on the branch.

Naruto - 029. Waiting : when words fail

sundaymess — Wed, 02 May 2012 14:38:49 GMT

Title: when words fail ♥
Author: sundaymess
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Uchiha Itachi & Haruno Sakura
Prompt: 29. Waiting
Word Count: 1644
Rating: T
Summary: Itachi was never one for words.
Warnings: Not suitable for children. AU
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Naruto - 047. Night: meet me at the gates

sundaymess — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 04:16:06 GMT

Title: meet me at the gates ♥
Author: sundaymess
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Uchiha Itachi & Haruno Sakura
Prompt: 47. night
Word Count: 700
Rating: K+
Summary: Even though her son is all that she has left, it hurts to even look at him. For Sakura, he's the bittersweet reminder of the heartache that will never heal.
Warnings: Character death.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

fic (Alice in Wonderland) Table 1, #44 youth

karrenia_rune — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:42:33 GMT

Title: Young People
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass, general book series
Author: karrenia_rune
Rating: general audiences
Character: Lily,(the White Pawn/OC: the Governess,
a character I created for a previous fic ("Not Quite Like Romeo and Juliet"
but it isn't necessary to have read that one to read this one.
Also, the reference to the field of poppies comes from another prior story "Working without a Net".
Words: 868
Prompt: #44 youth, Table 1

42/50

Disclaimer: The Alice in Wonderland books are not mine nor are the characters who inhabit the
verse; they are the original creations of Lewis Carroll. I claim only the words...

"Young People" by karrenia_rune

Her toes were bare and exposed to a stiff spring breeze that shifted direction from north to the east with the fluidity of the water of the brook below the wall on which she clung. It was a retaining wall enclosing a herb garden whose mingled aromas of marjoram, basil, and oregano.

She breathed in the heady scents of the spices and sighed in contentment. It was not very often that she had a chance like this, to get away from the close confines of the palace. There, she it felt like she was constantly surrounded by the entire household, retainers and servants of the White King and Queen.

Certain it was that if Lily were ever asked if she would trade what she had when another life, she would have replied in the negative because, on the whole, it was comfortable and familiar and she was content with her lot.

Every so often, just every so often, she felt the tingling’s of a desire for a change of scenery. She was a good and well-mannered girl and had learned her lessons well in deportment and obedience and for the most part had been able to damp down those restless desires to explore outside of her comfortable and immediate surroundings.

But, not now, not with the first bite of spring thaw in the air and a tantalizing and undefined urge that called to venture even farther out than she had ever before dared to go.

She gripped the cracks in the mortared stone of the wall with a tight grip, concentrating on her balance on her hands, her fingers curled and her body as ramrod straight as the shaft of a bow. Her tongue poked out between her teeth, the very picture of young girl caught in the midst of doing mischief.

In the next moment she executed a flip that brought her once more to a standing position and then walked carefully along the edge of the wall to stare down at the merrily chatting brook as bubbled along its path.

She smiled and then wondered what it would feel like to be that brook, to be all wet and cool, but she was a smart enough girl that was nothing more foolish to do than to jump into any body of water no matter what its size, especially if the one considering doing such a thing did not know how to swim.

At that precise moment she could faintly hear an undefined yet insistent voice calling her name. Lily, at first believed it to be her governess, who, having discovered her absence had first, thrown a fit, than squaring her shoulders had kited up her skirts and gone traipsing off in search of her wayward charge.

Lily felt a twinge of remorse at the trouble that she had put her governess too, but at the same time muttered to herself. ‘It’s so very rare that I get any time to myself, can they not give me just a little longer before they raise the hue and cry?”

The voice came again, sharper and clearer and closer in a way that it had not been only moments earlier. She tipped her head to one side than another, as if by doing so she could hear more clearly and to sort it out from the other sounds in the immediate area: the breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees, the brook, the birds and animals going about their business; and the voice came again, much closer than ever before.

It seemed to be calling her name. In spite of herself Lily shuddered and not from the chilly spring breeze. It suddenly occurred to her that she had been lulled into a similar situation not that long ago when she had lain down in a field of poppies and quite without any warning of the potential danger had almost never woken up again.

Thanks to the efforts of both her mother and the intrepid White Knight who had refused to give up the search she had been spared that fate.

Lily sighed and soon decided that whatever or whoever was out there right this instant calling her name, she wanted nothing to do with it. She pivoted on her heels and carefully walked back along the wall and scrambled down the far side until she was on level ground of the forest once more.

She then walked over to a tree hollow where she had stashed a small leather satchel with her shoes and socks and quickly retrieved them and put them back on her feet.

With that done she quickly but confidently and without undue haste lest she attract unwanted attention retraced her steps back to the palace environs. On her way she ran into her understandably agitated governess. Feeling a bit put out by the whole experience Lily figured she could endure a bit or two of scolding and stood while the older woman did so.

Calling her ‘my little lost lamb, and ‘poor dear, and how could you wander off without any supervision and how am I ever to explain this to their Majesties,” the governess took her by the hand and led her back home.

Alice in Wonderland, the Queen of Hearts, table 1, #23 alone

karrenia_rune — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 02:55:56 GMT

Fandom: Alice in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass
Author: karrenia_rune
Title: Not by Chance Alone
Words:683
Characters; the Queen of Hearts
Summary: The Queen of Hearts contemplates her response to a well-meaning letter full of advice
penned by her one-time close friend, the Duchess and reflects on their relationship or lack thereof.
Prompt: #23 alone
41/50

Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass are the original novels of Lewis Carroll as is the world that the characters inhabit. They are not mine and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. the given names for the main characters are my own 'take' on them.

"Not by Chance Alone" by karrenia

"I received your letter not that this evening past, dearest Matilda, and I am indeed well. I thank you for asking."

The Queen of Hearts set down her quill pen back into its ivory-inlaid holder and pursed her lips in order to better contemplate not only the opening lines of the letter she intended to write in response to the one that she had received but also in a belated answer to the previous ones that had gone unanswered.

Despite that fact that they were both royalty although as a Queen in the natural order of things of much higher rank than a mere Duchess who spent much of her time knitting booties and blankets and brewing herbal teas, the Queen spent her time playing croquet and ordering things just so.

Yes, and one time much removed in the past they had been classmates and as time wore on one thing had led to another and a friendship had developed. If that friendship had fallen by the wayside and become something much more akin to a cordial amity, amity would have to suffice.

It would seem that even she was as much a creature of habit as anyone else. She had to admit that her full time occupation of being a queen had left her very little time for true friends, of either gender. In fact, she found that perhaps that she preferred it that way.

Perhaps, even the Duchess might prefer to keep their current relationship with the remove of the post between them. The Duchess wrote to her with the frequency of perhaps once a month, at the most once a week, and she would write back within the week or more.

“Ah, perhaps the fault lies not in ourselves, but in our stars,” she mused under her breath as much as to the air in the palatial estate that she shared with the King of Hearts.

“Have I become as predictable as all that? I would hate to become predictable. After all, variety is the spice of life. Perhaps I need to shake the system up once again. No doubt, the redoubtable Duchess Matilda will have several or morals by the dozen to offer on any subject I would care to address with her.”

She had stepped away to the window and gazed out upon the checker-board country-side.

“Bother. Should I write back as she no doubt expects or do I call her here in person, or gasp, pay her a call? Why am I having such difficulty in deciding?”

Following closely on the heels of that particular though the Queen of Hearts began to pace up and down the parquet floor of the sitting room which betrayed her agitated state of mind.

At last, tiring of this she sat down heavily in a high-backed leather-padded chair that fronted up on a cherry-wood scrolled desk and reached for the quill pen in its holder. With the tip of the pen held about level with the corners of her mouth she began to tap, tap, tap, tap as she stared at the first lines and wondered what else to add to it.

“You have stated that am taking on airs, and perhaps so, but I shall fell remiss in the name of our old friendship if you were not to heed your own advice. Perhaps in cautioning myself to take heed of the lessons that you so desire that I learn, that you fail to heed them yourself.”

“I do not mean to say that I no longer wish to remain in correspondence with you, for correspondence can only work if it goes both ways. I merely wish to emphasis that we are no longer as young as we once were and have become a bit too settled in our ways. As I only just now mused to myself, variety is the spice of life. You are ever so fond of morals, and I believe that this is one that you can take to heart.

“I remain, as ever, yours, in friendship, her right and Royal Majesty, the Queen of Hearts."

Alice in Wonderland, the Duchess, table 1, #12 silence

karrenia_rune — Sun, 08 Apr 2012 19:21:12 GMT

Title: Silence May be Golden
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass
Author: karrenia_rune
Words: 347
Characters: the Duchess dictating a letter to the Red Queen (Lydia)
40/50
Prompt #12 silence

"Silence May be Golden, but Words are So Much Better" by karrenia

“I hope this letter finds you well, but if not, then not.”
“It is said that silence is golden, but then what do you make of the goldenrods or the marigolds or even of honey crisp apple?”

I have been to the garden of talking flowers and I can tell you for a fact that never have I heard with these two good ears of mine such a clamor. Silence be indeed be golden, or pewter or even another metallic shade or color, but I could not say for certain.”

“Yours has always been a fiery temperament and I must admit even now that I always admired you for that even when it did have an unfortunate habit of getting the better of you.”

“You see, my dear, dear correspondent there is a moral to be found in everything if one only seeks hard enough at it, much like cracking nuts. You may think that I am unaware that among my peers I am considered something of a crank, but while I find that being considered a crank a bit on the crass side I would never stoop so low as to stoop to their level."

No, and there is a moral in that as well. But where were we? Wait, wait, don’t remind me, there’s a good chap,” the Duchess remarked to her valet as he stood by serving her tea on a silver tray and who finishing with that task sat at a drafting table serving as her stenographer as well as she dictated a letter.

“Lydia, Lydia,” the Duchess continued in an abstracted manner in which she had begun the opening of her letter. “Red suits you, but of late I suspect that you have taken up shall we say, unconventional airs, and should by any chance this missive strikes an ill chord in your delicate constitution know that I as ever I have seek to instruct not cajole or chide a peer.“

“In memory of the close friendship we once shared as children I remain, as ever your friend, the Duchess.”

“There did you get all that, Leonard?” she asked the valet.

“Yes, My Lady,” he replied.

“Then come over here and I shall affix my seal to the envelope and you may deliver it to her Majesty as soon as possible.”

Everything but Nothing - Hold

splashie_xyt — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 05:33:33 GMT

Junjo Romantica -- #02 Burn -- Burn Yourself into my Body

armybro8 — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 20:30:09 GMT

Title: Burn Yourself into my Body
Author: armybro8
Fandom: Junjo Romantica
Characters: Nowaki/Hiroki
Prompt: #2 - Burn
Word Count: 1305
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hiroki notices a scar on Nowaki's shoulder.
Warnings: Sexual themes, yaoi
Disclaimer: I don't own Junjo Romantica or anything else mentioned in this story…I merely use them as a pawn in my sexual games.

It was nearing midnight, but the two lovers had only recently settled into bed and switched off the twin lamps in their room.

fic (Alice in Wonderland) #38 malevolence,

karrenia_rune — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 16:52:21 GMT

Title: Mawhaha
Fandom: Alice in Wonderland, general book series
Author: karrenia
Characters: the King and Queen of Hearts
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 351
Prompt:: 38 malevolence
39/100

Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass books are the original creations of Lewis Carroll and to whomever owns his estate now. They are not mine and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story.

"Mawhaha!" by karrenia

She titled her head back and arched her back as far as it would go without actually popping and cleared and then sucked in a deep breath of the evening air. A few seconds later she let it out in a great gushing exhalation, holding onto to it for as long as she possibly could.

All the while clasping her fingers about level with her breast bone and rocking back and forth on her heels. The effect seemed to be not only startling bust satisfactory, although she did not have much empirical evidence upon which to judge such things because she could not recall ever seeing anyone else do this.

“What are you doing? The King of Hearts remarked with his brow furrowed in a concerned and somewhat disconcerted lines.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked.

“I thought you were having a fit of apoplexy, my dear,” he replied.

“How sweet,” the Queen of Hearts absently remarked. “No, no, if you must know I am practicing my evil laugh so that I might better project the impression of a tyrannical ruler.”

“You are not a tyrant,” he replied. “Imperious, quick-tempered, stubborn, but not a tyrant.”

Her eyes widened a bit considering both what he had said and what he had left unsaid and even in her own mind wondering if the proper reaction should be indignation or compassion, and wondering if judging by his stance and an expression of resignation on his face, that he half expected the former; opted for the latter. She smiled sweetly at him and patted his shoulder. “I know, I know, but I’ve found that I have become settled in my ways.”

The King of Hearts, who had also half-expected a burst of indignation, flailing limbs and a fit of temper, seemed both surprised and mollified when none of his expectations were forthcoming. “I suppose we both have, at that. But,” he held up one finger, the next time, my dear, that you feel compelled to uh, practice this, just promise me one thing.”

“Which is,” she asked.

“Warn me ahead of time.”