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Jenna's Space

February 11th, 2015

Drabble post! @ 11:05 pm

Current Mood: accomplished accomplished

So, I was feeling prolific yesterday and got three drabbles for my recent challenge done. Yay writing! And for those that aren't interested in spanking, for once, these aren't focused on spankings (not to say there might not be one creep in at some point LOL!) But as an overall experiment, this exercise is to help me just write little scenes from prompts to hone my skills ;) If you want to join in on the fun, feel free to comment on my last post; and if you already left a request feel free to leave more, I'm not capping the list, just no repeats of the same characters same prompt otherwise all is game! (Look here for the rules: http://spankingfemme.livejournal.com/177970.html)

I also posted this challenge on Archive of our own, and WOW! I've got like a zillion requests! LOL! So, I figure as I write them, I'll also post them here for you guys to read over trying to dig through comments in the link above or travel to Archive to read the ones requested there. Here are the first three I finished:

Afraid: Doctor Who

This drabble was asked for by a_phoenixdragon to write: The prompt: Afraid with the Doctor.

Fear was a natural reaction meant primarily for self-preservation the Doctor knew this, yet he didn't consider the loss of his own life when fear truly took hold of him.

What woke him in the middle of the night covered in sweat to squelch a dying scream?

Sometimes the thought that just once, what if he couldn't save them?

Other times, what if all his efforts ended in defeat?

His most dreaded terror though was the thought that he would be the trigger that collapsed the tenuous foundation of the intricate web known as the birth of all creation to send it crumbling into oblivion.

The thought of being the 'only' life left. Bequeathed with an empty universe and a lonely box drifting along a sea of stardust and nothing in between.

This drabble was asked for frostydragon to write: The prompt: Sick with Loki/Frigga.

#12/sick and Marvel/Frigga and Loki. ;-)

Frigga applied the damp cloth to Loki's heated brow as he whimpered his discomfort. Loki always was the sort to eat up the attention she would dote upon him when he became ill as gods of Asgard rarely did fall to sickness being immune to most any natural diseases not that there weren't a few strains that even took a god to their knees.

Odin would tell him to suck it up in more flavorful terms, to which Loki would pout sourly, but with Frigga, Loki would not put on airs allowing her to comfort him in the way only a mother knows.

This particular aliment was caused by Loki's own design in an attempt to weaken Thor before the annual tournaments. Loki had concocted a wicked brew of the Measles with the help of Amora and much to his chagrin the two had ended up arguing over technicalities leading Amora to blast the vial containing the germ into Loki's fireplace. It had not all perished though, and within a day's time Loki had managed to contract it along with most everyone in the city's walls.

Odin had used his own vast powers to cure the inhabitants of Asgard, but because of Loki's involvement, as punishment, Odin decreed that he would have to deal with his own made consequences leading him here weak and stricken with self pity that he was once again made to suffer.

Loki felt like he was going to die shivering with waves of chills followed by incoherent bouts where he felt his skin was on fire, but throughout it all, Frigga was there to bring him soup, blankets, and company.

She sat now beside him as she sighed tiredly, "I don't understand why you do this to yourself over and over again my son."

Normally such reprimands would make Loki instantly irritable, and his sarcasm laced words would have rebutted, but in his current state he simply mumbled feebly, "Of course you wouldn't."

Wringing out the cloth to apply the rag anew she responded, "Then tell me Loki. Make me understand."

She couldn't possibly understand why he did what he did, none of them did, and Loki supposed his jealousy of Thor always seemed to reach new heights at every turn because of everyone around him's lack of understanding. It was Loki's turn to sigh as he looked away towards the window remaining silent for some time before glancing back to see Frigga watching him. She had reached out a hand to lay atop his and pat it gently. "You know, it wasn't always like this. Do you remember when the winter broke to wild flowers, and you and I would go to the fields and just ride horses as fast as their hooves would carry us all the way to the river's edge?"

He did remember. It was one of his happiest memories of the two of them where they would often unpack a lunch and dine while watching the rolling waters take twigs downstream and the wild life played a symphony as if just for the two of them. Loki smiled at her speaking with content over malice for once since their family had seen betrayal at his hands at many turns, "Thank you mother. That memory always gives me peace."

Loki blinked wearily, feeling Frigga's hand caress his cheek lovingly as she rose, "Rest now Loki. I will return in a few hours."

Taking in a deep breath, Loki let his eyes that weighed like led droop as he felt himself sink towards sleep. Somehow this woman still found a place in her heart to love him, and as much as he often denied it and questioned it, he did not do so now.

This drabble was asked for on my Archive of our own account by Lilly to write: The prompt: Loss of a loved one The pairing: Oswald/Jim

24: Oswald (losing his mother)/Jim (bonus for kissing and hugs)

Maroni had promised Falcone that Oswald was off limits, but there was more than one way to skin a cat. And so it was that Oswald had returned home after a busy day at the club some months later. Instantly he froze as he felt the crackle of broken glass under his feet. His guts twisted viciously as that overwhelming feeling that something was wrong made the bile rise in the back of his throat.

Oswald called out weakly at first, “Ma...mother?” His hand shook now as he moved along the familiar walls of the tiny apartment towards the ceiling light switch. The luminescence only made his dread rise as an apparent struggle of knocked over books and a broken coffee table disturbed the once tidy space.

His eyes traversed the room in jittery sweeps before noting a trail of blood leading down the hallway. Oswald gasped his hand clasping over his mouth as he involuntarily stumbled back a step. He didn’t have to see it, he knew what he was going to find without having to lay eyes on the atrocity, and he screamed a blood curdling cry as he hobbled quickly down the hall his terror growing to a crescendo once the limp body came into view.

He froze just staring now a wash of numbness overcame him and he moved slowly forward hoping against all hope to see her chest rise and fall, her eyes blink open and call out to him that she was still alive. Long moments passed as he fell to his knees snaking a trembling hand out to her as an unearthly mewling of utter heartbreak escaped his lips as there was no more denying it. His mother was no more.

Oswald lay slumped and unmoving next to her, and as dawn drifted in through the side windows shining a pale light in to the room, Oswald knew he couldn’t just stay here reliving this nightmare over and over. He needed a friend, but he didn’t have any friends… there was Jim. Jim was his friend he told himself feebly as he fumbled for his cell phone dialing the man’s number.

Jim rolled over annoyed at the sound of his phone going off on the dresser an hour earlier than he’d planned to wake up. Snatching it off the dresser he wiped the sleep from his face staring down at the familiar number and groaning ready to give Oswald a piece of his mind for disturbing his slumber. Opening the phone Jim prepared to growl his agitation, but his face went blank replaced quickly by a deep concern as Oswald warbled into the phone, “She… she’s dead Jim. They killed her. They killed my… my mother…”

Jim’s throat went dry all pretenses of sleep evaporated, “Where are you Oswald?”

A sob followed by a watery, “Home.”

Jim swallowed, “I’m on my way Oswald, just hold on okay.”

An almost impassive, “Okay,” escaped his lips before Oswald clicked the phone shut.
Oswald had not moved since hanging up the phone the tears still streaming down his face as he fought to draw his eyes away from the sight that captured his mind’s eye.

Jim had grabbed his gun and raced to the small apartment building on the West side of town pulling his sidearm as he reached the still open door taking note of the scene before him before moving down the hallway. He called out warily, “Oswald?”

Silence echoed through the room leaving behind an eerie unquiet before Oswald’s voice could be heard softly wafting from down the hall, “Down here Jim. We’re down here.”

Jim cautiously made his way down the hall stopping to see the disheveled man crumpled beside his mother’s body.

As if sensing human contact Oswald’s body shook with barely contained sobs, “This is my fault! I did this to her!” He wailed dipping his head to lay on his mother’s stiff form still gripping her cold hand in his and holding it like a life line.

Jim grimaced at the sight feeling the other man’s loss almost as if it were his own. He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding as he moved slowly up beside Oswald kneeling down to lay a hand on his shoulder replying gently, “You didn’t do this Oswald.”

His red rimmed eyes rose to meet Jim’s as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, “I’m being punished for hubris.” He looked away his eyes fixing on some point of the wall as he nodded as though affirming the statement he just made to himself, “She never knew… she,” he stopped his face contorting in agony as another sob escaped his lips.

Jim knew he needed to get Oswald up and away from this scene as it had already traumatized the man irreparably. Gently he slipped a strong arm under Oswald’s armpit and hoisted his limp body off the ground Oswald’s hands still grasping her dead limb desperately as he shook his head, “No! NO!” Oswald called out frenziedly as if by letting her hand go it was verification that he had to in fact let her go.

Dragging Oswald forcefully backward out of the room and down the hall, Jim had to fight the other man’s momentum frantically trying to return to the scene they had just left. Once in the living room, Jim grabbed Oswald by the shoulders shaking him, “Oswald, stop! She’s gone.”

Trembling all over Oswald wailed out a soul sickening deflated, “No! No, no, no, no!”
Jim pulled the other man into his chest, “It’s going to be okay Oswald; I’m going to help you get through this.”

Oswald let loose another wave of wracking sobs, and Jim gripped him in a tight embrace wishing he could ease the pain there but feeling helpless to do more than sharing the simplest gesture he could make to comfort the man in his hour of need.


Something to look forward to for the requests still to write! =D

1. roaming the forest

2. lowered lashes

Harvey Dent/James Gordon. Points for feeling confessions. Bonus points for hugs and adorable smiles

Jack Rackham/Anne Bonny

3. a lost childhood memory

Daryl and Carol

4. the dark things you fear

5. entwined at dusk

Chas and Zed

Sherlock and Joan

6. underwater

7. a long time ago

8. blackest night

9. a cruel illusion

Jaime and Sansa

Jefferson x Regina

10. wicked truth

11. injured

Sherlock and Joan

12. sick

Edward Nygma/Jim Gordon (with Ed being the one getting sick but nothing serious)

Jo/Henry (Forever)

13. drunk

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy

14. cry

15. lonely

Harvey Bullock/Edward Nygma

Clara/12th Doctor (friendship and bonus points for hugs)

16. fight

17. afraid

18. humiliated

19. bullied

20. disoriented

21. stressed

Edward/Harvey (because the last couple of episodes have to have done a number on Edward in terms of stress, hugs a bonus

Sherlock and Kitty

22. too much

23. not enough

Black Sails, Flint/Miranda.... make it a really dirty drabble:)

24. death of loved one

25. ghosts from the past

26. delirious

27. fever


28. worried

Sherlock and Joan

29. anxiety

Sherlock/Joan (bonus points for Sherlock being the one hit by anxiety and a Joan/Sherlock hug

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Date:February 13th, 2015 05:34 pm (UTC)
So awesome!! You are really kicking butt with these!!

[User Picture Icon]
Date:February 13th, 2015 09:23 pm (UTC)
I'm not used to truncating stories, but just writing scenes is a lot easier than mapping out prolonged stories for certain. I'm also trying to refrain from just writing spanking scenes as I may be prone to do LOL! With a lot of the prompts, I could see one coming about... but that's my muse nudging that direction because it's a road too well traveled LOL! I've written 5 so far, I just posted a fic written by Jason, so I'll wait until tomorrow to post the next set, and hopefully I'll have at least one more prompt done by then :)

Jenna's Space