#rhythmicroses

@rhythmicroses whispered to Lisa:     Young Alyss toddled up to Lisa, tugging on the back of her shirt. "Mama? Can you read me a story?" (@rhythmicroses uwu)

She nearly flinched with the tug, but she looked back and smiled softly instead.

❝  Of course, sweetness… What story would you like me to read to you today?  ❞  she asked in a calm tone, slowly turning around and kneeling in front of the child, so she could better speak to her.

RE  :  &  UNPROMPTED.

@rhythmicroses.

HE LETS OUT A SOMEWHAT EMBARRASSED WHINE  as the girl’s palm makes contact with his hair, head dipping down a bit as his ears fell forward towards his face. Were he more indignant, he’d have puffed his cheeks out rather childishly in a pout, but glancing up at her from where he sits on the ground, he can hardly bring himself to even pretend to be annoyed. It’s one of the rare times he thinks he’ll see her look taller than him. It makes him feel a bit nostalgic for the days he would interact with all the little kids running around Heart Kingdom, before Beatrice tore it asunder.

“Soft how? It’s just hair, isn’t it? Or do you perchance mean my ears?”  He’s beginning to blush, from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. To say he feels a bit bashful is putting it mildly. It’s not like he isn’t used to interacting with children, but he always found them to be so unintentionally sentimental and innocent. He couldn’t exactly be rude to them like he could with other Wonderlandians... although he’d never be rude to Alice, regardless.

RE  :  &  UNPROMPTED.

@rhythmicroses.

“OH, YOU POOR THING  ...  ”  Beside her, the FALLEN KING steps carefully as he reaches the end of his approach, hand falling slowly from the whip wrapped at his waist. In truth, Valentin had not been entirely sure whether the girl had been real, from afar. Part of him had suspected foul play by wiley faefolk wishing to play GAMES with him, or something trick of the eye courtesy of their false Queen. It isn’t until he’s close that his countenance softens, generally cheery expression shifting to begotten sympathy. Carefully, he kneels down to rest his hand tenderly against the child’s forehead. Warm, not cold. She’s alive, that’s for certain. He tries to be gentle, lest he frighten her. He can’t tell if she’s conscious or not.

@rhythmicroses.

IMPRISONED BY FATE  —  so seemed to be the sentiment what all in Wonderland were destined to kneel beneath the shackles of.  Perhaps none quite so literally as others, but the weight of his own curse weighs heavy on his heart as he watches his home die under the bloodied claws of a demonic tyrant. The concept of confiding his troubles in others is not something he was unfamiliar with, but those he trusted were long gone from the kingdom that now acted as his prison. His king is on the run and the rabbit that they all had followed at one point or another had chased off to rewrite fate in its entirety. Were he more blatant about his sentimentality, he’d have laughed at the thought. As such, he simply smiled, a bit too sad for his tastes.

“There’s no crueler fate than one that makes you fear it cannot be changed.”  It is a difficult subject, isn’t it? To believe that fate can change but to live forced to endure it. Were his curse anything else, he believes he would be able to break it through sheer force alone. But it isn’t. And he cannot.  “I am sure you are strong enough to break free, if you truly want to. There is no fate in this world that can be a prison forever. Destiny can always be changed.”  Even his own, though he knew not how. They are not him, however, and for that fact alone he has far more faith in them than himself.  “Do you wish to hear my troubles? Is that a command to tell you?”