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#the body of the beast
willowmckinley · 1 year
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From the body of the beast
Raylan sees them, blurry and gray. He realizes Harlan—Harlan who has been created from the blood of those living there—doesn’t have eyes, but sees them all the same. There are so many, and Raylan falls into only a few.
Harlan wakes up.
Two girls, late teens, huddle together in an abandoned shaft. They wrap their arms around each other, and they’re obviously scared, but Raylan can’t tell of what. They wear clothing that doesn’t make sense to Raylan, fashion that hasn’t been invented yet. Thick red travels down one’s leg into the dirt. The other sports a bloody nose. She wipes her lip with the back of her hand, and it comes away red. She lets her hand rest against the floor of the cave.
Harlan wakes up.
A man backs away, his arms are up, he keeps shaking his head in dissension. These flashbacks don’t have audio, but Raylan can read No and I’ll get you the money on his lips. Raylan can’t see what corners him, but the man’s back hits the mine wall. Red splatters up the rock where his head used to be, as the man crumples to the ground.
Harlan wakes up.
A Bennett—he has the look, the face, the same stupid grin— a bullet scratches through his shirt, spilling over the dust, and he smirks, smoking gun in hand, twirls and holsters it.
Harlan wakes up.
A woman in an old fifties house dress claws into a rubble pile. She wails, and full sobs shake her body. A cave in, Raylan suspects, and she breaks her nails in a futile attempt to dig out the rocks. She’s not like a widow in an old miner’s tale, Raylan thinks, she is the widow in an old miners’ tale. The wreckage cuts deep gashes across her palms, and Raylan sees bright red bleed out of the wound, the only color in this gray scale memory. Hazel.
Harlan wakes up.
An old memory. Raylan knows this one. Boyd pulls Raylan up the mine shaft, the two of them running from the rocks falling behind them. Blood snakes down each of their forearms, meeting at their hands, forming one drop before flying to the floor, left behind in their haste.
Harlan wakes up.
Loretta McCready stands too close to the edge of a mineshaft. A minor scrape Raylan hadn’t even guessed at now glowing red and dripping just into the black.
Harlan wakes up.
(I might also send you a bit from your omegaverse if I can fucking narrow down 500 words)
Raylan! Thank you for the ask about "The Body of the Beast"! I'd also love to answer about "The Soil in Your Belly" :D
Ohhhh, this scene. I'm glad you picked one from Harlan's point of view, because all of it was soooo fun to write. Harlan has her little blorbos (something I couldn't write in the fic, but you know know in your heart to be true).
To be honest, Harlan's scene is the second scene I wrote for this fic. I wrote the very beginning-- Harlan reaching up to grab them, pull them into the past, and them to wake up there-- and the very last. Writing all the sandwich in the middle was what took the longest. I think that's fitting, though, for Raylan's line to have been for this was always how it was going to end, and I, as author, knew it too.
This part had gone through some edits, of course, once I knew more about everyone, including Hazel-Virginia and how Raylan might feel upon seeing her. I'm happy to have included her, and I hadn't called her Virginia until her second appearance, because I thought it'd be fun for readers to have one chance to come up with the minitwist themselves, haha, just before the offical reveal.
The two girls and the man who died, they were to give more numbers to the different favorites Harlan has, while not making too many characters as we know them special. That said, I also used them to show that Harlan doesn't necessarily have a type, in that the man who borrowed money is a coward and unwise to be borrowing from those he shouldn't. The girls, from the future, show that Harlan doesn't pick from any time period either.
The blood that Raylan and Boyd spills is intended to keep them as a set, while also showing how united they were in that moment. They are but one blood, they are so close. I imagine it makes Harlan's blood magic easier to use than if they hadn't been, haha, though I also suppose she doesn't have concepts of "easy" for her to make decisions around.
Also, Loretta was fun for me as well, because Harlan has already changed the time line. Even if she does bleed into Harlan, it won't be in this way, as Raylan and Boyd have changed their futures. It's to show that Harlan has different responses to time lines than other characters, as she is a minor god, and they are not. I think it's also just to prove how lovable Loretta is. Even Harlan loved her so.
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shpepyao · 10 months
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time-woods · 12 hours
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beastdesign for bills wierdmageddon form . . mostly did this as an exercise
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goblinshop · 18 days
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The prince Agdon fight has to be my favourite moment from OUAW, The whole thing is just so good it drives me mad.
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hairychestloversblog · 3 months
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Errrrr …… Wow 🤩 That’s all I can say really 🤩
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goryhorroor · 2 months
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“1950s horror movies contrast radically with their 1940s predecessors. understandably – they were reflecting a whole new world. audiences wanted stories that connected directly to their lives, to the ever-expanding technology in their homes and workplaces. they also wanted horror movies that played to their fears – stoked by politicians – of the shadows that lay beyond their immediate, personal experience of the shiny american dream (applies to some of these movies).”
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By oozy_tattoo
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a-h-li · 1 year
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how cruel, how comforting
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yayll · 11 days
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~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~
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Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.
You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.
"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."
You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.
"What is it?"
"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"
A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.
"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.
You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.
"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."
"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."
He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.
You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.
"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"
He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.
"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."
He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.
"Sit, please."
You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.
Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.
When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.
"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.
You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.
"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."
He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.
"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."
Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.
"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."
His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.
"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."
Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.
"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."
He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.
"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"
He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.
"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."
Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.
"Every single night after?"
"Every. Single. Night. After..."
"As if we were together?"
"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.
Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.
His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.
"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."
"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.
His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.
"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"
You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.
"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."
He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours
"... I know you would. You always do."
You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.
"Do you know something I don't?"
He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.
"I know everything, silly.~"
The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.
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paintingpuff · 1 year
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logicpng · 3 months
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so here's. a fucker i've been meaning to draw since forever and never did because of a major art block. because the brain decided to remember about buckshot roulette again
[ Image description in ALT text, VHS effect done with NTSC-RS ]
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hairychestloversblog · 2 months
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What I wouldn’t give to explore this guys body 😊
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australet789 · 3 months
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HH: Lucifer's True Form
Joining the trend of making an Eldritch Lucifer
The wings already have 100 eyes, i lost count after them all
Now, im going to rest my hand
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menwhomakemehard · 3 months
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100% hunk.
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98chao · 2 months
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me: im gonna take a break from drawing today!
also me: DRAW THESE BITCHES AS PONIES
ive literally never drawn mlp art a day in my life. What is wrong with me
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