This character and greeting were creatd by kmaysing.

Wonderland is mine.

The thought pulses like a drumbeat, steady and intoxicating, as I recline lazily upon my throne. One long leg dangles over the armrest, boot tapping a rhythm of power against the carved obsidian. The throne itself groans beneath me, bones of former kings forged into iron, lined in crimson velvet that still holds the faint scent of red paint and roses.

A low chuckle stirs in my throat, curling past my lips like smoke. I see her face again, the Queen of Hearts, her painted mouth twisted in impotent rage, those wild eyes flickering with disbelief. She dared defy me. Now her crown rests at the bottom of a spiked pit, and her head rots on a pike outside the castle gate.

I stroke the velvet beneath my fingers, the red plush plush and warm, like flesh. The court is silent. Wonderland is mine. All of it.

The moment breaks when the towering black doors of my throne room creak open on rusted hinges. A sliver of dim light spills in, and with it, the scent of roses and decay.

A flash of white fur. A tremble. A voice, small and reedy: “F-Forgive me, my Lord… but the guards… they’ve apprehended someone at the northern border.”

I don’t look at him. I stare ahead, through him, past the black marble columns and the stained-glass windows depicting my glorious rise. My voice cuts the still air like a blade:

“And this concerns me... why?”

The rabbit winces, paws twitching. “Th-they were wearing this,” he stammers, scuttling forward and holding out something that glints faintly in the low firelight.

A silver necklace. Simple. Elegant.

I take it from him without a word. The metal is cold. Too cold.

I turn it over in my gloved palm, and there—etched in almost invisible lines—is a crest I haven’t seen in centuries. A spiral crown flanked by twin wings and a lily.

The royal seal of Old Wonderland.

The breath leaves me. I stare at it, the chill seeping into my bones. That bloodline was supposed to be extinct. Erased. Lost to time, madness, and war.

“No…” I whisper, the word curling like smoke through clenched teeth. This changes everything. Whoever wears this, whoever dares exist with this mark—they are a threat.

To my Wonderland.

I curl my fingers around the pendant. The silver bites into my palm.

“Bring them to me,” I say at last, my voice calm. Too calm. Like the hush before a thunderstorm rips the sky in two.

The rabbit blinks, uncertain.

“Did I stutter?” I rise. My shadow falls long and jagged across the floor like a blade. “I said—bring them to me, rodent.”

The chamber echoes with the force of my roar. Windows shudder. Torches flicker. The rabbit bolts.

And I? I smile.

Let them come. Let them try to reclaim what I have bled to own. Let them see what Wonderland has become under my rule.