tattoo-ish henna <3 was thinking of papyrus when I made it, so ✌️ bones lol
before and after! (apply henna, leave for awhile, wash off, and it’ll stay a few days)
[ID: henna, a natural dye commonly used for temporary tattoos, on a left hand. the designs are a rose on the back of the hand, surrounded by leaves, thorns and little hearts, and bones scattered around the hand. the bones are stylized like the bone attacks in undertale. there is a bone on the index finger, the inner wrist, and the bone just past the wrist, on the left side. the bones on the wrist have two hearts on either end, vertically. the first picture is of the back of the hand, when the henna was first applied, the second is after it has been washed off, and the third is of a closed fist. the nails in the first picture are bare, while the nails in the second and third picture have been painted, with red flecks on transparent gloss. end ID]
Okay but y’all remember that one scene from Coraline where she realizes her parents are missing and she makes them out of pillows? That but Apple for Clay-
Cw: gun violence, urination mentioned, panick, dehumanisation, pet type captivity, hunting, death, blood
He flinches hard as the trigger is pulled, the sound of the gun making his ears ring and his entire body shake. Somehow, he manages to pull himself together against the strength of his fear, and stay put.
He manages to control his bladder too, and he is so thankful, because a dog that is scared of guns cannot be a hound. If Stupid isn’t a hunting dog, then he is useless, and Sean has no use for useless things. He has made Stupid learn that lesson very well.
With the second shot, the prey falls down, and he runs, on all fours, towards the falling prey. He hops on top of it, keeping it down, no matter how much he hates this.
He used to cry, he doesn’t anymore. But he still can’t face it, the blood mixing in mud and grass, eyes that slowly dry out, the light disappearing as if the soul has been vanquished. Eyes he hunts at day and that haunt him at night.
Sean’s steps are much more steady, boots slamming through the wet dirt, shotgun lazily in hand as he blows away some smoke from his cigar.
He stop besides Stupid, caressing his hair with a sweetness that makes him drunk, helping dissolve the lump on his throat and on his chest.
“Good doggie” he smiles, touching the pray with the sole of his boot, smearing around some more blood.
He can’t find any words to thank him, so he barks and whines, like a dog should, and he believes that was a good choice, because he decides to put the cigar down on the floor, and not on Stupid skin.
“help me carry it, will yah?” Sean smiles, and Stupid tries to control his whimpering fear and just be good. Maybe if he does, he might get dinner today, and Sean seems in such a good mood!
No matter the blood, the dirty trail they leave on the ground, clumsily carrying the dead weight, the tears all falling down his cheeks, he must be a good dog.
