Comments | oz_wishing_well: Are You There, God? It's Oz Drabble Tree

ozsaur in oz_wishing_well

Are You There, God? It's Oz Drabble Tree

Jan 16, 2009 16:35

Is everyone ready for our 4th drabble tree? If you haven't done this before, or if you're new to the fandom, take a look at The First Ever Oz Drabble Tree, The Return of Oz Drabble Tree and The Little Oz Drabble Tree That Could.

( Same rules as last time... )

ch: drabble tree

Comments 61

Chance aguardente January 16 2009, 23:17:55 UTC

Alonzo squatted and placed his hand on Miguel’s dick.

Soft.

Warm flesh covered with fabric. Nothing more. Didn’t make Alonzo think of manhood and risk, didn’t make his heart pound. It was Miguel’s zesty smell he could feel, and his dark eyes looking down at him intently, with a fraction of haughty tiredness, - this all somehow turned him on. Slowly this time (probably because it was finally real, not a blurry illusion anymore), but it did.

‘Big boy,’ Alonzo whispered and pressed harder against the man’s groin. He rubbed up and down the flaccid length with the back of his palm, and Miguel looked up abruptly, fixing his gaze on the wall.

Alonzo saw Miguel’s jaw tensing; he covered Miguel’s dick with his hand and felt the outline forming, hardening under his touch.

‘Give me a chance.’ Alonzo’s eyes were on Miguel’s chest and as he felt strong fingers pulling through his thick bleached hair, he smiled and nodded before burying his face in Miguel’s groin and breathing in.

Give me a chance scissorknot January 18 2009, 04:01:12 UTC

"Give me a chance to make this right." Beecher flipped Keller off and kept on walking. Keller knew it was pointless to say anything but he could not just stand here and be quiet. He realized now how bad he had fucked up. Well actually he realized it not to long after breaking Toby's arms. When the crushing loneliness had set in on him that night. For the first time in his life Chris had felt bad about all the people he had scammed before. But this time it was different. Toby was different. Chris did not feel like a piece of shit that he knew he was with Toby. He had to make things right. He had to win his Toby back.

Loneliness - 109 beechercreature January 19 2009, 03:07:25 UTC

The first letter he got, he tore to pieces. He didn't read it. He didn't open it. Just seeing who it was from was enough for loneliness to consume him, tearing away at his sanity.

Later, when the lights went out, he crawled to the torn and crumpled pieces of envelope and letter, gently separating the paper until he had it all set out like jigsaw pieces. He lay there on the cold, hard floor for most of the night, nudging the scraps around until he could read Toby's words.

When he saw Sister Pete, he asked for tape, reluctantly showing her the torn letter by way of explanation.

torn and crumpled scissorknot January 19 2009, 18:57:48 UTC

When the light shut off he pulled the torn and crumpled pictures of his children and his wife, well soon to be ex wife, out from under his pillow and stared at them. He almost laughed at the life he had before OZ. It seemed like it was another world and another person. Because of Oz that Tobias was dead and buried. This was the new and not so improved Beecher. “I wonder if the store will let me exchange it for the old model? Nah. It’s to damaged to for that.”

Thread 19

"His teeth" - RPS LeeLoni - 115 beechercreature January 17 2009, 04:10:46 UTC

Lee comes up behind him, molds to his back and hooks his chin over his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

Chris gives a soft 'hmm' in reply, touching his fingertips to a piece of paper before returning to his task. Lee reads something about jeans and charity and an aution, and then glances back to the jeans in question, laughing at what Chris has written on the ass.

He sets his mouth against Chris' ear, his teeth brushing teasingly along the flesh. “Should I write 'so were my hands'? Or maybe,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around Chris' chest and pressing into his backside. “'So was my cock.' Yeah, that'd sell for a good price.”

over his shoulder scissorknot January 18 2009, 05:19:56 UTC

Chris looks over his shoulder at the Barlog lying on the ground. A few minutes ago he had been alive. Now he was just another one of Keller's victims. Barlog had been the closest thing he had had to a friend on the outside. But he had to go. The fucker was going to run his mouth to that piece of shit Taylor. Friend of not he had to be silenced. No one ratted on Keller and got away with it.

charity...an auction (200, double drabble, AU) trillingstar January 22 2009, 23:49:44 UTC

“You signed me up for what?”

Grimacing, Toby held the phone away from his ear. “Thank you for that ruptured eardrum.”

So he hadn’t presented the news diplomatically, but the shindig was tonight, and HOTCOPS (Helping Others Through Charity Or Physical LaborS) needed a body. Any policeman, firefighter or EMT would suffice, but naturally Toby’s immediate thought was of Detective Stabler.

He waited until the third buzz to answer. “Eight o’clock. No, just your dress blues. Elliot, shut up. It’s for charity, an auction for that new after-school program. It’s not like you have to strip down and undulate onstage.” Toby grinned. “Unless you want to ( ... )

Spanking? scissorknot January 23 2009, 03:00:51 UTC

"Hold on I think I had something crazy in my ears because I just heard you say that your biggest turn on was spanking?"

"No you heard right. I tried lots of things but I have found that nothing gets the blood flowing good light spanking. Just so it hurts for a few seconds. I found that it takes a little practiced for most people to get it just right.”

“Are you suggesting that we try a different type of foreplay?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If you are to weirded out it’s no big deal.”

“You are one kinky fucker Toby.”

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...on his knees, Double-drabble numenora January 17 2009, 14:28:04 UTC

He had been a sheltered boy. He was all his mother had after his father died on the mean streets of Chicago; a cop, a hero killed in the line of duty. He was only a boy of ten. She always told him ‘the world owes your papa a debt of gratitude.’

But, she kept him hidden from that world. If she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have fallen under the spell of the devil; his blue eyes and beautiful smile promising love, but feeding lies instead.

They were fifteen when they met one summer. Pierce was an innocent. Chris wasn’t; having been raised by the system among criminals who couldn’t shave or buy cigarettes. Chris took that innocence on a filthy mattress in an abandon warehouse. It began with Pierce on his knees and it ended with a cold stare and Pierce Taylor’s virgin blood on the devil’s torn jeans-his heart broken ( ... )

a sheltered boy. scissorknot January 18 2009, 04:45:10 UTC

Calling Toby a sheltered boy would have been an understatement. When he was a teenager it felt like he needed to have an itinerary planning his entire trip down to the second before his mother would even let him out of the house. And Toby always stuck to it because he knew his mother would ask him when he got home and Toby could not lie to his mom. But things were different now. Toby was in college and no longer under his mothers thumb. That is why Toby's head was spinning from the combination of the cheap beer and the mind-blowing sex. That is why his arms were wrapped around the behemoth of a man known as Chris Keller. Chris was nothing like Toby. He was dangerous and sporadic. And it made Toby feel so damn alive and he fucking loved every second of it.

the line (100, AU) trillingstar January 23 2009, 00:37:07 UTC

Eddie hasn't seen Elliot in over two decades, but he recognizes the back of his head right away. Coupla reasons: first, it’s hard to forget the first guy he fucked, but it’s more than that. While they were pushing and pulling at each other, slanted up against the wall, Eddie couldn't tear his eyes away from the razor-straight edge of Elliot's hair laying flat on his neck, cut with the absolute precision only found from a military barbershop. Eddie figured if he pounded into Elliot hard enough, the line might move. Disheveled would be a fucking terrific look on Stabler.

Thread 26

On a bad night scissorknot January 18 2009, 04:10:02 UTC

He had thought that the nights would be better now that Vern was in Unit B. No more being woken up by a horny Nazi who did not take no for an answer. But then the dreams started. On a good night he would only have to change his shirt once. On a bad night he could barley sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he was tormented with the same images. A little girl plastered on a windshield, the blood and life slow seeping out of her, and the realization that he had taken a life. That is when he always woke up. Was one peaceful nights sleep too much to ask for? Did he really need to ask? He had killed child. Of course it was too much to ask for.

(The comment has been removed)

God stops listening scissorknot January 19 2009, 19:24:55 UTC

Chris laughed out loud. He was not even sure why he was still coming here any more. What is the point of confessing when God stops listening? Now matter how good he was he was ignored by the big man up stairs. Maybe it was just an old habit that he could not break. Hell maybe he did it to kill some time on Sundays. You can only watch so much T.V. before your brain melts. Whatever the reason is he is still shitting here with his back to Father Mukada listening off his sins. Well not all of his sins. Mukada does not need to know about Barlog's body in the storage closet.

empty silence severina2001 January 21 2009, 01:50:50 UTC

LoPresti wheels a portable television set into the hallway; smirks as Keller watches the inauguration. The picture on the tiny set flickers -- reception must suck ass on death row -- but Keller still catches the glint in Toby’s eyes. When Toby looks directly at the camera, Keller instinctively shies away. LoPresti finally turns off the set, and Keller hears phantom rhymes in the empty silence.

He wonders why Beecher doesn’t have a beard.

Keller awakens slick with sweat. There is nothing amusing about the dream, but in the cold darkness of his cell, breathing heavily, he tries to pretend there is.

Thread 7

cherry to a man (100) trillingstar January 19 2009, 19:27:48 UTC

Of course I was waiting for the punchline when I made that crack about livestock. Vern repeated the words back to me so matter of fact, and I saw in his eyes he was relieved I’d already wrapped my brain around it. His terms: don’t scream, don’t fight, no kicking, biting, or telling. If I’d ever gotten more than a thrill of excitement watching porn where the girls wriggled and cried, then damn me to hell. I’d just lost my cherry to a man. I didn’t scream, and I didn’t tell. What was the point? I wasn’t getting it back.

I didn’t tell scissorknot January 20 2009, 01:10:43 UTC

The rational side of me was yelling at myself because I didn’t tell McManus how this happened. Sure Keller and Schillinger would get in trouble for breaking me and that fuck CO would probably get fired for taking part in it. But that would be getting off way to easy. Those ass holes were going to suffer for what they did to me. Handing them over to McManus would have been a mercy killing compared to what I have in store for them, Especially Keller. He used me. He made me care for him. I will make sure his pain is ten fold.

don't fight cmk418 January 22 2009, 20:35:59 UTC

He’d gone to a space where the past and present collided. He heard Wittlesey’s voice in his head, laying down the rules of EmCity. EmCity. More like ‘EllCity. EmCity should be in Cellblock M. Why aren’t we in Cellblock M? Is there a Cellblock M? I can't remember.

No fighting.

That’s it. Don’t fight. Just lay here and hear that awful cracking noise.

No fucking.

He looked up into those cold blue eyes and laughed to himself. That ship has sailed. His eyes saw the movements, heard the sounds of bones snapping, and disconnected from the pain. Everything began to meld into a white light. Is this the end? Death?

The voice of God that came through the light sounded suspiciously like Sister Pete. “You’re very lucky, Tobias.”

He’d laugh, but his bones would twinge at the slightest movement. Instead, he asked the question that had niggling at his mind since this ordeal began, “Is there a Cellblock M?”

voice of God scissorknot January 22 2009, 23:02:42 UTC

When Rebadow had started hearing voices, well a voice to be honest, he thought that he had finally snapped. He knew all that electricity coursing through his body all those years ago had to have screwed him up and now it was finally rearing it ugly head. Took long enough. He was afraid that they would lock him up in the psych ward but after all the shit Beecher pulled it was obvious it took a lot to get reservations in that part of town. So whether it was the voice of God or just his mind playing a trick on him at least he had someone to talk to.