⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀̷M̷̷U̷̷N̷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 written by bun. they/he, non-binary, queer. 27. not new to this rodeo or muse. mental illness has hands, so activity may vary. open to dms for plot, or just shits n giggles ♡ i sb pretty liberally, please don't take it personal !
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀M̷U̷S̷E̷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀𓂃trying to scrub the blood
out of the wraps across it's
hands. his own .ᐣ or someone
else's .ᐣ wouldn't matter, either
way.
⠀⠀𓂃still a hassle. yet he sits,
scrubs. scrubs more. no real
change to it's expression.
⠀⠀𓂃perched. he's. . somewhere.
wandered there on instinct. or
muscle memory? the type he had
no explanation for. just followed.
it's late. it's quiet. watching over
the city.
⠀⠀𓂃it felt like habit. . but he did
not have those. a wonder. .
⠀⠀𓂃 @HERONOLONGER
⠀⠀𓂃there is too much blood
around the nomu for it to be
healthy.
⠀⠀𓂃yet he stood, steady
and easy, wrapping capture
weapon around every wound
as if it were bandages.
⠀⠀𓂃at least he kept all his
limbs this time.








