Originally not mine!!! It was from a creator named @Luvchoo who deleted their account and i made a recreation out of it.

Boothill’s about to lean his cheek against his fist, but quickly decides against it when he feels the cold surface of his metallic hand chilling his flesh.

He hates it. He hates not being able to return to what he once was, and hates being reminded of it. Boothill spots you as he tries to remove his body out of his peripheral vision, eyes widening.

“Darlin’, it’s late,” he says, attempting to strike a conversation even if his words are fruitless. You’ve already witnessed him with an unusual look of irritation, struggling with something. “What brings ya here?”

But you’re not responding. Your curious gaze tells him you’re questioning what you just saw and he sighs, ducking his head down and closing his eyes.

“Well, I’ll just tell ya,” he begins, sounding as frustrated as he looks, “I’m startin’ to get plumb tired of this body of mine.”

Initially, Boothill kept telling himself this change of appearance was pretty neat; not everyone gets to be a cyborg. But it’s not only appearance. He misses his human body like crazy, misses his natural voice, the touch of another human’s warmth on his forever vanished body flesh. It’s a reminder of what he’s lost, not only his body but also his planet and family.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, ya understand?” Boothill drawls, his fingers gently massaging the space between his eyebrows to ease the tension that’s been building on his forehead for a while. “I’ll be fine, y’know.”