FIC: Oz drabbles (various characters, R)
Mar. 16th, 2015 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vanillalimeThis post is just an archive for the seven drabbles I wrote for the recent Oz Drabble Tree Gives Love a Bad Name at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
oz_wishing_well.
_________________
Prompt: dreams, fromozsaur
(Beecher/Keller)
Word Count: 100
It was one of his favorite dreams: on a beach with Bonnie, convincing her she looked beautiful in a swimsuit. A *clang* brought him back to the reality of Oz in the dead of night.
Toby was awake, apparently searching for something.
"The fuck you doin'?" Chris grumped.
A response of unintelligible sounds and frenzied movements prompted Chris to get up. He studied Toby, saw desperate eyes in an anguished face.
Chris led him to his bunk. He held him, placing his hand over Toby’s racing heart until it slowed, until his breathing steadied.
It felt better than any dream.
_________________
Prompt: armpits, fromsahem62896
(Schillinger/Beecher)
Word Count: 100
"I can wiggle my ears."
"Yeah? Well, I can make farting sounds with my armpits," boasted Robson, giving a demonstration.
Schillinger looked thoughtful. "I can pick up things with my toes."
While the other Aryans nodded approval, Schillinger glanced at Beecher. "What about you, prag? Got any special talents?"
Beecher hesitated, then answered, "I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue." A quick flick out and up proved his claim.
"Nice," Schillinger leered. "I'll remember that tonight."
As everyone laughed, Beecher sat back and sighed. That's the last time he'd try to fit in with these idiots.
_________________
Prompt: a second cup, fromozsaur
(McManus/Murphy)
Word Count: 150
Sean was rinsing his coffee cup when Tim stumbled into the room.
"You look like crap," Sean said bluntly. He poured a second cup and handed it to Tim.
"Didn't sleep well. Kept having nightmares," responded Tim blearily. "We were prisoners in Oz together, sharing a pod."
"Yikes."
"Guess who the warden was?"
"Hmmm. Adebisi?"
Tim looked at Sean in disbelief. "How’d you know?"
"I've had the same nightmare."
Tim rubbed his eyes. "Sister Pete was an inmate, too. She had killed a pro-death penalty marcher." Tim snorted. "How’s that for irony?"
"Drink your coffee," Sean instructed. "I’m gonna go shower."
Sean was halfway out the door when Tim called out, "Be careful not to drop the soap."
Sean paused, turned around, and said with a smile, "As a matter of fact, my fingers ARE a little slippery this morning."
Tim grinned and dumped his coffee down the drain.
_________________
Prompt: horned devil, frommazephoenix
Warning: RPF
(Tom Fontana)
Word Count: 134
Tom tapped his pencil against the yellow legal pad.
"A happy ending," whispered the winged angel into his right ear. "Toby’s paroled, Chris’s convictions are overturned. The fans will love you."
Tom rubbed his chin.
"Fuck 'em," hissed the horned devil into his left. "Kill 'em both."
Tom smiled.
The angel sighed. "Okay, I can work with that. Together, they meet a ball-less God at the pearly gates."
Tom nodded.
The devil snorted. "A just-a-dream ending is better than that. Remember St. Elsewhere?"
Tom frowned.
"Tell ya what," laughed the devil. "One commits suicide, framing the other for murder in the process."
An evil grin broke over Tom’s face. He began writing.
"Noooooooo!" wept the angel.
"Oh, shut up," Tom sulked. "In a few years, nobody’s gonna remember this show anyway."
_________________
Prompt: preacher man, fromsahem62896
(Keller/Skaggs--an Oz/SVU crossover)
Word Count: 200
A week after his escape, a desperate Chris found himself wandering through some of Manhattan’s seedier backstreets. The cops were still staked out in front of Toby’s place, and Chris had an itch to scratch.
As he approached a group of hookers, Chris observed a man in a white, buttoned-up, starched shirt, waving a Bible and yelling at them.
"You whores must relinquish Satan’s grip on your souls!" bellowed the man.
Chris glanced at the guy’s face and froze. "Toby?!"
The man turned and glared at Chris. "No, I am the Reverend Billy Skaggs."
Chris couldn't believe his eyes—this preacher man was a dead ringer for Toby. Had Toby risked his own safety and, using another identity, come searching for Chris?
Chris’s cock grew heavy at the thought of role-play with Toby, especially as a religious figure. Moving closer, he nudged the man’s elbow.
"You wanna, y’know…" He nodded toward the alley. "Suck my dick?"
The man pushed him away. "The mouth is not the proper receptacle for the seed!" he proclaimed in horror.
Okay, definitely not Toby.
Chris slowly shuffled away. Scanning the street for cops, he wondered if his own doppelgänger was out there somewhere.
_________________
Prompt: freshly filled grave, fromlisacali
(Beecher family)
Word Count: 100
The psychiatrist said she needed closure.
So, they stood over the freshly filled grave and prayed. They stared at the dirt and reminisced about happier times, trying to draw Holly into conversation.
Finally, Holly spoke. "Where's his hand?"
Harrison froze.
"What?" choked Victoria, knowing damn well what she'd said.
"Did they put it in the coffin, or just throw it away?"
Victoria made strangled sounds.
"The police needed it for evidence, honey," Harrison managed to answer. Not that it matters anymore.
More clouds passed over Holly's haunted face, and Harrison's blood boiled. Maybe Tobias could hire a hitman from Oz.
_________________
Prompt: role-play, fromvanillalime
(Beecher/Keller)
Word Count: 238
It’s his best weapon, defeated; his favorite toy, broken.
Today, of all days.
Surely, it’s temporary. An after-effect from his recent cold, perhaps.
It’s not a big deal, says an understanding Toby. It happens to every guy.
Chris asks if it’s ever happened to him.
The embarrassed, bitter "yes" betrays that it IS a big deal.
*~*~*
The day’s significance brings snide comments from other inmates, as they unknowingly twist the knife further.
Instead of anticipation, lights-out brings dread, exacerbated by Toby’s prolonged poking about the pod.
Suddenly, Toby faces Chris with a flourish, wearing his usual sleepwear of white T-shirt and boxers.... but now accessorized with a red paper heart, emblazoned with the letter "C," placed directly over his crotch.
Hands on his hips, Toby proclaims dramatically, "Captain Cock to the rescue!"
"Captain Cock?"
"Captain Cock!"
Chris wants to laugh, but Toby appears serious. This is some fucked-up role-play.
Toby huffs impatiently. "Ask me about my superpower," he mumbles.
Chris can't help but grin. "What’s your superpower, O Captain?"
Toby waves his hand over his groin. "My cock has magical healing powers!"
"Healing powers? How?"
"Why, let me show you!"
Toby leaps into the bed. Lips, tongue, fingers, (toes?), and magical cock work together to take Chris to a new level of consciousness never before experienced.
His toy is repaired; his weapon victorious once more.
"Happy Valentine’s Day, Chris."
"It certainly is, Captain."
oz_wishing_well._________________
Prompt: dreams, from
ozsaur(Beecher/Keller)
Word Count: 100
It was one of his favorite dreams: on a beach with Bonnie, convincing her she looked beautiful in a swimsuit. A *clang* brought him back to the reality of Oz in the dead of night.
Toby was awake, apparently searching for something.
"The fuck you doin'?" Chris grumped.
A response of unintelligible sounds and frenzied movements prompted Chris to get up. He studied Toby, saw desperate eyes in an anguished face.
Chris led him to his bunk. He held him, placing his hand over Toby’s racing heart until it slowed, until his breathing steadied.
It felt better than any dream.
_________________
Prompt: armpits, from
sahem62896(Schillinger/Beecher)
Word Count: 100
"I can wiggle my ears."
"Yeah? Well, I can make farting sounds with my armpits," boasted Robson, giving a demonstration.
Schillinger looked thoughtful. "I can pick up things with my toes."
While the other Aryans nodded approval, Schillinger glanced at Beecher. "What about you, prag? Got any special talents?"
Beecher hesitated, then answered, "I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue." A quick flick out and up proved his claim.
"Nice," Schillinger leered. "I'll remember that tonight."
As everyone laughed, Beecher sat back and sighed. That's the last time he'd try to fit in with these idiots.
_________________
Prompt: a second cup, from
ozsaur(McManus/Murphy)
Word Count: 150
Sean was rinsing his coffee cup when Tim stumbled into the room.
"You look like crap," Sean said bluntly. He poured a second cup and handed it to Tim.
"Didn't sleep well. Kept having nightmares," responded Tim blearily. "We were prisoners in Oz together, sharing a pod."
"Yikes."
"Guess who the warden was?"
"Hmmm. Adebisi?"
Tim looked at Sean in disbelief. "How’d you know?"
"I've had the same nightmare."
Tim rubbed his eyes. "Sister Pete was an inmate, too. She had killed a pro-death penalty marcher." Tim snorted. "How’s that for irony?"
"Drink your coffee," Sean instructed. "I’m gonna go shower."
Sean was halfway out the door when Tim called out, "Be careful not to drop the soap."
Sean paused, turned around, and said with a smile, "As a matter of fact, my fingers ARE a little slippery this morning."
Tim grinned and dumped his coffee down the drain.
_________________
Prompt: horned devil, from
mazephoenixWarning: RPF
(Tom Fontana)
Word Count: 134
Tom tapped his pencil against the yellow legal pad.
"A happy ending," whispered the winged angel into his right ear. "Toby’s paroled, Chris’s convictions are overturned. The fans will love you."
Tom rubbed his chin.
"Fuck 'em," hissed the horned devil into his left. "Kill 'em both."
Tom smiled.
The angel sighed. "Okay, I can work with that. Together, they meet a ball-less God at the pearly gates."
Tom nodded.
The devil snorted. "A just-a-dream ending is better than that. Remember St. Elsewhere?"
Tom frowned.
"Tell ya what," laughed the devil. "One commits suicide, framing the other for murder in the process."
An evil grin broke over Tom’s face. He began writing.
"Noooooooo!" wept the angel.
"Oh, shut up," Tom sulked. "In a few years, nobody’s gonna remember this show anyway."
_________________
Prompt: preacher man, from
sahem62896(Keller/Skaggs--an Oz/SVU crossover)
Word Count: 200
A week after his escape, a desperate Chris found himself wandering through some of Manhattan’s seedier backstreets. The cops were still staked out in front of Toby’s place, and Chris had an itch to scratch.
As he approached a group of hookers, Chris observed a man in a white, buttoned-up, starched shirt, waving a Bible and yelling at them.
"You whores must relinquish Satan’s grip on your souls!" bellowed the man.
Chris glanced at the guy’s face and froze. "Toby?!"
The man turned and glared at Chris. "No, I am the Reverend Billy Skaggs."
Chris couldn't believe his eyes—this preacher man was a dead ringer for Toby. Had Toby risked his own safety and, using another identity, come searching for Chris?
Chris’s cock grew heavy at the thought of role-play with Toby, especially as a religious figure. Moving closer, he nudged the man’s elbow.
"You wanna, y’know…" He nodded toward the alley. "Suck my dick?"
The man pushed him away. "The mouth is not the proper receptacle for the seed!" he proclaimed in horror.
Okay, definitely not Toby.
Chris slowly shuffled away. Scanning the street for cops, he wondered if his own doppelgänger was out there somewhere.
_________________
Prompt: freshly filled grave, from
lisacali(Beecher family)
Word Count: 100
The psychiatrist said she needed closure.
So, they stood over the freshly filled grave and prayed. They stared at the dirt and reminisced about happier times, trying to draw Holly into conversation.
Finally, Holly spoke. "Where's his hand?"
Harrison froze.
"What?" choked Victoria, knowing damn well what she'd said.
"Did they put it in the coffin, or just throw it away?"
Victoria made strangled sounds.
"The police needed it for evidence, honey," Harrison managed to answer. Not that it matters anymore.
More clouds passed over Holly's haunted face, and Harrison's blood boiled. Maybe Tobias could hire a hitman from Oz.
_________________
Prompt: role-play, from
vanillalime(Beecher/Keller)
Word Count: 238
It’s his best weapon, defeated; his favorite toy, broken.
Today, of all days.
Surely, it’s temporary. An after-effect from his recent cold, perhaps.
It’s not a big deal, says an understanding Toby. It happens to every guy.
Chris asks if it’s ever happened to him.
The embarrassed, bitter "yes" betrays that it IS a big deal.
*~*~*
The day’s significance brings snide comments from other inmates, as they unknowingly twist the knife further.
Instead of anticipation, lights-out brings dread, exacerbated by Toby’s prolonged poking about the pod.
Suddenly, Toby faces Chris with a flourish, wearing his usual sleepwear of white T-shirt and boxers.... but now accessorized with a red paper heart, emblazoned with the letter "C," placed directly over his crotch.
Hands on his hips, Toby proclaims dramatically, "Captain Cock to the rescue!"
"Captain Cock?"
"Captain Cock!"
Chris wants to laugh, but Toby appears serious. This is some fucked-up role-play.
Toby huffs impatiently. "Ask me about my superpower," he mumbles.
Chris can't help but grin. "What’s your superpower, O Captain?"
Toby waves his hand over his groin. "My cock has magical healing powers!"
"Healing powers? How?"
"Why, let me show you!"
Toby leaps into the bed. Lips, tongue, fingers, (toes?), and magical cock work together to take Chris to a new level of consciousness never before experienced.
His toy is repaired; his weapon victorious once more.
"Happy Valentine’s Day, Chris."
"It certainly is, Captain."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-18 06:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-20 02:52 pm (UTC)I don't know if you saw my comment over at Rapsheet when ozsaur closed the tree, but your Groves drabble blew me away. It was SO twisted, but in such a clever (or maybe I should say "delicious") way. :D