#fuoret

[unregal]

            ‘  hear this, hear this!  i wrote a song for you, it’ll make you grow bat wings and four eyes in the back of your head!  you’ll never get caught unaware in a fight with these!  isn’t it genius~?  ’    //   @fuoret

[unregal]

‘i don’t know who i am.’

why do you hurt me so

he wonders so too for himself, hanging by a thread between restless ghost and lost boy, of chivalrous knight and cruel king. he can’t see his face from beneath his crown, can’t feel his body from under the red velvet robe, wandering the hallways like he’s returning from his funeral everyone attended but won’t speak of, reeking of old blood not his own they pretend not to see.

he doesn’t really know who he is, these days.

but surena...

           ‘  even if you don’t, i do.  ’    even if everyone forgets, even if they trample down on his memory like dried up flowers to be discarded, a peony without the shine of life, petals greying and falling.   ‘  i’ll always know.  even if you asked me to, i could never forget someone who chooses to be kind when the world has given them little reason to be.  ooh, i might use that for a song... ☆ !  i’ll call it the brave, blooming botan~.  ’

[unregal]

            ‘  botan, uchuu~☆!  do you think aliens prefer yellow chrysanthemums or red poppies or green roses or cacti?  ’   //   @fuoret