#jervis tetch x you

[caesariawritesstuff]

Hello!! I'm new to sending request and a bit nervous but I was wondering for the Valentines event if I could request the prompt "🌹= Single Rose" ♥️💋 with the prompt 48. Enemy caretaker for BTAS Mad Hatter x reader where the reader and Jervis are enemies

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!!!

Until Next Time

Summary: As a nurse at Arkham, the last thing you want to do is treat Jervis Tetch - but things take a turn when he begins to consider you as his new Alice.

Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warning: Nonconsensual kissing.

A/N: Ahhh anon, don't be nervous about requesting AT ALL! I really hope you enjoy this request. I don't normally write for BTAS Hatter so I hope I did okay haha.

You were running late.

Traffic had been backed up for an hour on the way to Arkham Asylum. Your job as a nurse was already on the line as it is, with looming budget cuts and a lack of funding. Frowning, your heart hammered in your chest as you pulled up outside the asylum, the building looming over you; it was shadowed by the dark night, and a bolt of lightning struck across the sky. You parked your car and got out, shivering at the cold breeze as it whipped around you – but something else caught your eye, something large parked out front: the Batmobile.

Great. This was just what you needed. Who could Batman be bringing in now? There were plenty of criminals out on the run. The Joker, the Riddler, Poison Ivy – all of them had escaped weeks ago, but one in particular, the Mad Hatter, made your stomach twist in knots. You really, really hoped it wasn’t him who Batman had brought in. Jervis Tetch had never been your favorite. In fact, you had to admit, you kind of hated him. His proclivity for Alice in Wonderland annoyed you to no end. The constant rhyming, the references to the book – God, was it annoying as all hell. You’d never cared for the book, either, finding no fascination with the story within your life. Whatever he saw in it, you’d never know.   

Frowning, you made your way inside the asylum. Dark halls greeted you, the smell of must and mildew clinging to your nose as you entered, hurrying into the staff room to put your stuff down. Sweat beaded on your brow as you rushed to your locker, the cold, metallic room filled with lockers surrounding you on all sides.

“You’re late,” said your friend, Bethany, who was sitting a nearby table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “Traffic was backed up like crazy.”

“Well, we’ve got a whole lot on the books,” Bethany said. “And Batman hauled in Tetch tonight. Beat him up pretty bad. You’re gonna need to take a look at him.”

That made you still. You frowned, your insides clenching tightly, agitation rippling across your skin. Disgust rumbled in your stomach as you rolled your eyes. “Just what I needed tonight,” you muttered.

Sighing, you quickly changed into your uniform and headed out of the room. Heart beating heavily against your chest, you made your way through the dark, quiet halls until you reached the infirmary. Luckily, you saw no sign of Batman, but there were two guards posted right outside the infirmary doors. The heavy stench of antiseptic and chemicals filled your nose as you nodded to them, letting them know you would be fine. Jervis was dangerous when he had access to his mind control abilities, but without them, he wasn’t too much of a threat. The guards shot you a look before returning to their rounds. The heavy smell of antiseptic and chemicals filled your nose as you peeked your head into the infirmary.

Right away, you spotted Jervis Tetch on one of the nearby beds. There was a bruise on his left temple, his nose bloodied, a gash above his right eyebrow. His eyes were cast downward, his blue costume ripped and dirtied, his hat set aside on the bed beside him.

You sighed. What a miserable little man, you thought.

Swallowing down your irritation, you stepped further into the room. Well, best to get this over with. You’d bandaged his wounds and send him back to his cell. The quicker you got this over with, the better. Jervis looked up as you walked inside, but his eyes immediately hardened at the sight of you, his lips peeling back in a sneer.

“Oh, it’s you,” he muttered. “The Red Queen.”

You frowned. The Red Queen. That’s what he always called you. Seeing you as an enemy against himself and his own pursuits. You still didn’t quite understand the meaning of it, but you didn’t care much, either.

“Hello, Jervis,” you sighed, wandering to the side of the room to begin pulling on some gloves and grab some bandages from a nearby counter.

He clicked his tongue in distaste. “Can’t you send someone else in here?”

“Sorry, but you’re stuck with me,” you said. “Believe me, you’re the last patient I wanted to see tonight.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he muttered.

You frowned, fighting your scowl. God, was he annoying. You would’ve given anything to treat the Joker instead of Jervis right about now, and that was saying something. Once your gloves were on, you turned back to him, wandering over. The breath caught in your throat as you approached. Now that you were closer to him, you were beginning to realize the extent of his injuries: the bruises and the blood, just how damaged he looked. Batman’s fists must’ve done a number on him. You pulled up a nearby chair and sat down in front of him.

“Stay still,” you muttered, as you prepared a piece of gauze with some alcohol on it. As you reached forward to place it on his gash, he jerked back and hissed through his teeth.

“Ow!” he hissed. “Can’t you be a little more gentle?”

“And can’t you sit still?” you asked, fury burning through your veins.

He scoffed and wave his hand. “Your touch leaves much to be desired, my dear.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words and you leaned away slightly. “Don’t call me that. Now sit still and let me treat you.”

He frowned, but you caught eyes with him for just a moment – but it was a moment too long, nonetheless, and his gaze hardened the longer he looked at you. Your insides squirmed and you looked away, peeling your eyes from his own. His stare burned holes into your skin, and you suddenly felt a pang of regret for being so mean to him, so curt. He was a patient here, after all; maybe you needed to be kinder. You were a nurse, after all.

“Please,” you said again, a little softer this time.

He hesitated, before nodding, relaxing into h is spot on the bed. You reached forward, gently dabbing at the gash above his brow. He winced, but didn’t pull away this time; he was quiet as he let you work, continuing to bandage his wounds, ensuring they were properly cleaned and covered to prevent infection. He smelled of sweat and something metallic, something like gunpowder and a factory. Perhaps that’s where he’d been staying for weeks. But as you worked, you felt his eyes continuing to burn holes in your skin, as if you were something to be studied.

You frowned. “You can stop staring at me like that,” you muttered.          

“Like what?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Like…” God, you didn’t even know how to explain it. All you knew was that the way he stared at you made your cheeks flush and your insides warm. With fury or desire, you didn’t know which ruled you more.

“I’m simply curious, is all,” he said. “About whether you’re still fitting to be my Red Queen…or something else.”

“You better not call me Alice,” you muttered, before he could continue.

He paused, his brows raising slightly, but he remained quiet. As soon as you were finished with bandaging his last wound, you sat back and stared at him, your eyes narrowed. He stared back at you, but as he reached for his hat, he winced, cradling his arm in his hand.

You quickly looked him over. “You might have a sprain,” you said.

“Can you grab my hat for me?” he asked.

You sighed. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him, but you grabbed his hat anyway, the material soft against your fingertips. You turned back, watching as he continued to cradle his arm in his hand. Sighing, you placed the hat back onto his head, but as you did, something inside of you shifted as your heart leapt into your throat. He gazed up at you, before smiling, his lips twisting into something strangely pleasant and warm.

“Stop smiling like that,” you muttered, stepping back. But as your arms dropped to your side, his hand suddenly shot out, snatching up your wrists – and in that moment, you realized he had been faking his sprain.

“You know,” he said after a moment. “You’re much better suiter to be Alice than you are the Red Queen.”

You paused, his words taking you aback, blinking as you tried to process what he said. Your mouth went dry, panic crawling up your throat.

“Or are you better suited to be the Red Queen?” he asked, almost a curiosity in his tone. “To be the enemy of Alice? To all of Wonderland?”

“Jervis…” you said, your tone testing. “Let go of me. Right now.”

“But, my dear, don’t you see?” he asked, rising to his feet. “We can be more than enemies. Aren’t you tired of this little dance we do time and time again?”

His words were like a slap in the face, like a knife being thrust into your heart. His hand tightened around your wrist, fingers digging into your flesh. Ever since you’d started working here, you had done this strange dance with Jervis: the hatred, the insults, the glaring at each other every time one of you walked by. That fire burned in your belly as bright as a dying star. Fury filled your eyes as you yanked your arm from his grasp.

“You are crossing a big line, Tetch,” you said, a warning in your tone.

“Oh, but alas,” he said. “I think I’ve far from overstepped.” He smiled, a wide-toothed grin, his eyes alighting with desire and desperation.

You gasped as he closed the distance between you two, and in one stride, he grabbed your face between his hands and pulled his lips to yours. His mouth tasted of blood and sweat, but his tongue brushed against your own as you gasped. His hands were warm on your skin – and a sudden warmth trickled through your veins. It had been so long since you’d been kissed, so long since anyone touched you – and there was something deeply primal about kissing a man you hated so much. The gauze fell from your hand and fluttered to the floor, and you relaxed against Jervis, letting him kiss you as you kissed him back. One of your hands came up around and fisted in his light blonde hair, twisting your fingers in the strands. He was warm and soft as his body pressed against your own, as sick desire twisted in your own gut. Warmth pooled in you core, alighting inside of you, and you moaned into his mouth.

His hands tightened around you as he pushed you back against the nearby counter, his warm body enveloping yours. His teeth nipped at your lips, and you pushed yourself harder against him, grinding yourself into him, desperate for more.

“God, I hate you,” you whispered, though you couldn’t pull your lips away.

That made him chuckle, a low rumble deep in his throat. “And I hate you just as much, my dear Alice,” he murmured.

But just as his lips found yours again, footsteps down the hall suddenly made you pull away. You gasped as the realization of what you were doing – that you were kissing a patient – made you step farther back, putting distance between the two of you. His eyes widened, his mouth falling agape as the two of you stared at one another. But you gritted your teeth and scowled, realizing just what you’d done. Words died on your tongue as you stood there, heart hammering against your ribcage, trying to process just what you’d done – but with an angry huff, you turned on your heels and raced out of the room.

“Until next time, Alice!” he cried as you stormed out of the infirmary.

But as you stormed down the hall, fury burning in your stomach, you couldn’t help but smile.

[acapelladitty]

Mad Hatter/Reader - Lessons

Summary - Undertaking another one of Jervis' 'etiquette' lessons proves to be a wicked undertaking indeed. (tw: dom/sub themes, teasing, oral sex, food kink etc)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Delicately picking up the small silver spoon, you bring it to your lips in a pretend sip as you announce your answer with a shaky confidence.

"Soup."

"Excellent, March Hare." Jervis' lilting voice trails out from his unseen spot behind you. "A soup spoon indeed! From tomato to broth to mock turtle. You're doing well."

Flushing with pride at the willing praise, you sigh and rub your thighs together; agitating the egg-shaped vibe which lay nestled between the walls of your sex. Wearing nothing but a white ruffled collar and a pale blue skirt so scandalously short that it may as well have been a belt, the cool air of Jervis' apartment was as familiar as ever as you remain in your place at his large kitchen table.

Speaking of the man himself, his thin hand appeared from your side, pointing expectantly at another piece of polished silverware. This one was a fork, its shape slightly smaller than the one to its side and your muddled brain struggles to remember what the hell it was for - the hesitation making your heart pick up its pace within your chest.

Rolling your ass against the chair, the movement has the unfortunate side-effect of shifting the vibe and its new position draws a keening moan from your lips.

"Jervis, oh my god-"

"Hush, March Hare!" Jervis scolds and you flinch as the tip of the riding crop which you know is sitting in his other hand arcs around to bounce off your right nipple, instantly sparking a heat-laced pain across your chest. "It's rude to speak over someone trying to give a lesson."

Fighting the urge to raise your hands and brush them across your pebbled and aching nipples, you instead focus on picking up the small china teacup which has long since been filled with tea for you to enjoy as you endured your etiquette lesson. However, the cup had barely touched your lips when your unspoken desires were answered as the reappearance of his hands made you flinch - the cool palms quickly gripping your chest in a rough pinch as Jervis' staggered breathing makes itself known just behind your head.

Delighted, you sigh into the cup as you arch your back ever so slightly, giving him easier access to your aching tits as the stimulation makes your cunt clench even more roughly around the vibe.

Finishing the last few drops of tea, you deposit the teacup back onto its assigned plate noisily as your shaking fingers make the fine china clink together. His small digits now kneading your tits almost thoughtfully, Jervis seems to be waiting for something as his mint-laden breath washes past your left ear.

Realising you were missing something, a gasp of delirious pleasure escapes you as his fingers pinch your nipples playfully - pulling at the sensitive buds as he tuts disapprovingly into your neck.

"A finished cup, my sweet rabbit. And no cry for a place change? Clean cup, clean cup. So easily forgotten."

Opening your mouth to say the words, his hand is quick to clamp around your lips and you can taste a subtle and sweet, almost sugary substance on his fingers.

"What a sad tea party." He continues to scold, his free hand teasing down your stomach, tracing every fleshy inch with reverence. "With manners and etiquette thrown to the crocodiles."

His finger drops to the seat, curling back on itself as he splits your slit and you widen your legs to allow him free access. A clear goal in mind, your body starts like it were shocked as the soft pad of his finger rubs a delicate circle around your engorged, neglected clit.

"Jervis."

"Mmm, my rabbit?"

"Don't stop." You breathe out shakily, the tightening band of arousal making your legs tremble slightly as your toes curl towards the floor.

"Please- please don't sto-"

The plea is cut short by his fingers as his free hand presses a thin sliver of cake to your lips - the sugary vanilla taste catching you by surprise as you obediently open your mouth to swallow it.

He enjoyed this.

Feeding and watering you.

The spark which alit in his eyes as he provided for you was as endearing as it was erotic - food play long having since established itself in your games as sweet treats and edibles were shared between you.

Unfortunately, his movements caught you off guard and a small dollop of light blue buttercream slipped free of your bottom lip to drop to the lowest ruffle of your white, embroidered collar.

A theatrical gasp rings in your ear and you whine as his wicked fingers scuttle away from your aching cunt. Any protest dies however as a flash of silver just at the corner of your eye makes you still and you feel the faintest edge of his pocketknife trailing across the sensitive juncture where your collarbone meets the shoulder.

"Messy rabbit." Jervis mutters, slipping the knife up to press against the white ruffled collar which he had gently looped around your neck at the beginning of your lesson. "No point wasting a lovely outfit on such a messy rabbit."

The ruffled collar falls free into a crumpled heap in your lap, but it's swiftly removed as Jervis snatches it up with his fingers and deposits it in the pockets of his slacks.

"Hold out your hand."

More than a little petulantly, you hold your palm out and he's quick to move as he swaps the knife for the riding crop which remains tucked under his armpit. Striking down harshly, the cool leather slices across your palm in a bolt of heat and you wince at the discomfort as he stands to move before you.

"Maybe my lessons are wasted?" Jervis continues, his thin hands pressing down on your exposed thighs as his blue eyes pierced your own. "Trying to turn my March Hare into a proper lady might be one of the six impossible things I have to imagine before breakfast?"

You glance up at him, blinking your eyes coquettishly as you beg forgiveness with only a look.

"Touch me." He continues in a rough demand, accented voice slightly roughened by his clear arousal as he stands fully. The darkened slacks do little to hide how hard he is, the fabric bulging over the jut of his clothed cock, and you run your palm across it gently, enjoying just how aroused he is by his little game with you.

Looping your hands within his belt, you quickly loosen the leather and allow it to hand free. His shortened height makes the task much easier and you smile at the slight inhale he makes when your hands unzip his fly and free his straining cock from its confines. Within your cunt, the vibe pressing against your walls makes it difficult to concentrate as you clench around it desperately, chasing the release which was slowly approaching.

"My Hatter," you purr as you wrap a hand around his length, fingers brushing the blonde curl of pubes which decorate the base, "and my sweet, kindly teacher. Maybe you deserve a reward for helping me out with all these hard lessons."

Stroking along his cock, you groan sharply as the vibe within you rockets up another level and the sudden onslaught of vibration is enough to quickly tip you over the edge that has threatened you for so long. Hand dropping to curl around the edge of the wooden chair, you grind your cunt against the wood as your release forces a guttural moan from your lips - every nerve in your body firing off as your teeth bite down on your lower lip hard enough that you taste copper through the pleasurable aftershocks.

The vibrations don't stop but they do back off slightly, reducing to a pleasant hum which makes you twitch in place as your release pools across your cunt and thighs - making a sordid mess of the chair itself.

"Now, now, March Hare! Distractions aren't appreciated when hard work is required." Jervis taunts but his expression is satisfied and oddly predatory as he watches you suffer through your pleasures.

"Focus."

And with that, he jerked his hips forward with clear intent, targeting his cock upwards towards your mouth. Giving a cheshire grin, you drop your head slightly to make up the space and take him within your mouth; your hand swiftly reappearing to wrap around his velvety length as he demands his payment.

He tastes as familiar as ever, the salt of his pre-cum cutting through the sugariness of the cake he had forced in there earlier and you moan around his cockhead - enjoying the way that the vibrations from your moan make his eyes widened and his mouth go slack.

He's as vocal as ever as his lips spill free a mixture of muffled grunts and sweet whispers - your name mixing with soft praises as you bob your head along his length, matching the movement by twisting your wrist with every stroke.

It doesn't take him long; the eroticism of your 'lessons' and his love of your mouth making him come more quickly than he may have liked and his hands press gently at the sides of your head to keep your lips around the tip of his cock as his release floods your mouth.

Swallowing down what he has to offer, you drink in his whimpering groans with equal enthusiasm as you focus on pleasing him. As gentlemanly as ever, he pulls free of your mouth quickly and you catch your breath as he tucks his wilting cock away in his slacks.

In a flash, he's dropping to his haunches before you and his mouth is on your own - tasting himself as much as you as his tongue demands entry. It's a playful kiss, part thanks and part apology as his thumb rubs gently along the developing welt on your palm from his earlier punishment.

"My Match Hare." He mutters, whispering the words into your mouth.

Matching his energy, your hands slip up his shoulders to tug gently at the blonde hairs which sit at the nape of his neck.

"My Hatter."

[knoepfl]

A Very Merry Unbirthday Christmas

So guys this is Halftime! I've uploaded 12 so far and I must say I am exhausted XD But I hope you enjoy them so far!

12/24

Characters

• Jervis Tetch (The Mad Hatter): A delusional but endearing inmate of Arkham Asylum, deeply consumed by his Wonderland fantasies. Despite his madness and manipulations, Jervis exhibits genuine affection and a strange tenderness toward his "Alice."

• Reader (You/Alice): A mentally fractured inmate who has succumbed entirely to Jervis's hypnotic influence. You live in a shared fantasy world where you are Alice, embracing the delusion with childlike wonder and unwavering devotion to your Mad Hatter.

Trigger Warnings

• Manipulation and mental illness: Jervis’s hypnotic influence has left you unable to distinguish reality from fantasy.

• Institutional setting: The story takes place in Arkham Asylum, with its inherent themes of confinement and loss of freedom.

• Emotional weight: The narrative explores bittersweet moments of connection amidst the characters’ shared delusions.

Masterlist

Words: 754

Jervis Tetch sat in the corner of the rec room, his long fingers meticulously folding scraps of paper into intricate shapes. He adjusted his small, tattered top hat, worn even in confinement, and whispered rhymes under his breath. The sight of him brought a wave of giggles from you—his Alice. You didn’t know your real name anymore, nor did you care. To you, he was the Mad Hatter, and you were his dear, sweet Alice.

---

The sterile white walls of Arkham Asylum were draped with faint attempts at holiday cheer. Tinsel dangled from ceiling corners, and a sad, half-decorated Christmas tree stood in the common room, its blinking lights flickering like a dying hope. The air was thick with the scent of pine-scented cleaner, the faint trace of institutional meals, and the muffled hum of distant murmurs from other inmates.

"Jervis," you said, your voice light and sing-song. "What are you working on this time?"

"Ah, dearest Alice!" he exclaimed, lifting his bright eyes to yours. "Why, a surprise for you! A little token of wonder for our Christmas tea party." He held up a paper rose, as delicately crafted as if it had grown from the pages of an old book.

You clapped your hands, your restraints clinking slightly against the chair. "It’s beautiful! Is it for the table?"

Jervis smiled, his heart twisting. He had hypnotized you so many times, your mind had bent and fractured until the delusion became your truth. Yet, in the rare moments when you looked at him with pure adoration, he could almost forget his guilt.

"It shall be the centerpiece, my dear, to crown our feast." He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I've procured quite the spread. Crumpets! Biscuits! A peppermint or two."

Your face lit up with childish delight. "Oh, Jervis, you’ve outdone yourself!"

The pair of you had pieced together scraps from the staff's forgotten holiday treats. A purloined cookie here, a stolen sugar cube there, all hidden away until today.

The clock struck seven, a meaningless hour in a place like Arkham, but to you and Jervis, it marked the beginning of the celebration.

He had arranged your modest feast on a small, rickety table in your shared corner of the rec room. Crumbs of stolen gingerbread mingled with the carefully folded paper decorations he’d made—a garland of tiny hats, a little snowman made from tissue.

The other inmates paid little attention; most were too lost in their own minds or subdued by medication. But to you, the scene was magical.

"Happy Christmas, my dear Alice," Jervis said, bowing low.

"And a very merry unbirthday to you, Mad Hatter," you replied, curtsying with a flourish of your gown—not a gown at all, but the plain white uniform issued by Arkham. Still, in your mind, you were resplendent in satin and lace.

Jervis chuckled. "Come now, sit! Let us not waste a moment."

You took your place, and Jervis poured imaginary tea into mismatched paper cups. The two of you fell into easy conversation—nonsense rhymes and riddles, tales of Wonderland, and whispered dreams of escape.

"Do you think Wonderland celebrates Christmas?" you asked, nibbling on a crumb of gingerbread.

"Why, of course," Jervis replied, his voice soft with affection. "The Queen of Hearts herself would host a grand ball, with the Tweedles trimming the tree and the Cheshire Cat weaving tinsel from moonbeams."

You laughed, the sound bright and sweet, and Jervis felt his chest tighten. For all his madness, for all the wrong he had done, he knew this moment was pure.

"Jervis," you said suddenly, your tone serious. "Do you think they’ll let us stay together forever?"

His smile faltered. "Oh, my sweet Alice, I would move mountains and rewrite the stars to ensure it. No one shall part us, not here, not ever."

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing his. "I know they won’t. We’ll always have Wonderland."

The distant clang of a guard’s baton against metal broke the spell, but neither of you moved. The world outside the asylum’s walls didn’t matter—not when Wonderland was alive in your hearts.

Later, as the lights dimmed and the other inmates shuffled back to their cells, Jervis escorted you to yours.

"Goodnight, my Alice," he said, adjusting the paper snowflake he’d tucked into your hair earlier.

"Goodnight, Mad Hatter," you replied, smiling sleepily.

As he watched you drift into dreams of tea parties and talking flowers, Jervis whispered to himself:

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a mad delight."

---

[starleska]

barges in/ WHAT ABOUT BTAS JERVIS X READER?

OWO

why, thank you for asking 😉 i've had this persistent concept knocking around my brain wherein Jervis earnestly tries to move past his devotion for Alice...only to tumble straight back down into obsession when he meets You 😳

Jervis Tetch x Reader First Meeting headcanons

🎩 although it pains him to admit it, the years of unrequited love have taken their toll on Jervis. his Alice is long gone—departed from Gotham with her now-husband (filthy brute), with a new name and her hair dyed a mousey brown. as far as he can tell, she's dropped off the map entirely, and it's been nearly a year since he last caught any trace of her. months in yet another cold, lonely stint at Arkham leave his soul more empty than ever before...and he decides, one lovelorn night, that such suffering should not befall a gentleman. although the thought sickens him, Jervis resolves that when he gets out, he is going to make a fresh start...even just for a while.

🎩 when finally he next escapes (his technology being instrumental in a jailbreak largely orchestrated by the other rogues, of course—no need for him to do their dirty work), Jervis makes good on his promise and leaves Gotham for a few cities over. he travels in civilian clothes and fights the urge to wear any sort of hat, fearing that even a simple cap could betray his identity. yet the experiment is a success. within days he has sequestered himself in an unassuming little apartment, and even ventured out to speak with a neighbour or two, none of whom recognise him as The Mad Hatter. it's a queer feeling, not seeing fear reflected in the eyes of those around him...and it gives him a quiet thrill which makes him forget himself, leaving Jervis grinning far too wide.

🎩 still, Jervis is a man with certain compulsions. he's partial to an afternoon walk, and at 3 o'clock exactly makes his way out into his new city, looking for nothing in particular and simply enjoying air without walls. however, he soon comes across a quaint little teashop, its sign scrawled in a delightful Shakespearean font and the windows ringed with English ivy. "How serendipitous," Jervis murmurs to himself. "I shan't pass up an opportunity such as this...after all, you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling!"

🎩 Jervis orders his usual beverage without incident and takes a seat which gives him an excellent view of the whole teashop. his discerning blue eyes scan the room, but it isn't until he's cleared half the customers that he realises he was searching for a glimpse of Alice's golden hair. Jervis sighs, and takes a long, sad sip of his tea—only to splutter when he spots You in the corner of the room. You are tucked up with your legs crossed, your nose buried in a book. there's a little half-smile on your face, and Jervis watches with interest as you chuckle at something you read. he stares at You and the book, and an icy chill of recognition works its way down his spine.

🎩 before he can stop himself, Jervis abandons his tea and makes his way over to You. for a full minute he looms over You quite unnoticed, so absorbed You are by your book. after quietly clearing his throat does not catch your attention, Jervis opts to take the direct approach. "Excuse me, my dear." You look up, curious. Jervis smiles with all his teeth—too bright, too intense. "I do hope you'll forgive my impudence, interrupting you on a fine day such as this. But may I ask...what are you reading?"

🎩 "Oh!" You say with a giggle. You turn the book towards Jervis, revealing the cover. "I'm reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It's my favourite story."

[iepurasdepraf]

ᒍEᖇᐯIᔕ TETᑕᕼ: ᒪIGᕼTᔕ OᑌT - ᑭᗩᖇT 1

Music for this part - Part 2

Acrid smoke stung your eyes between the passes of the oscillating fan that gave you respite while the cigarette between your teeth burned down a little by little. You were putting all your attention into counting and just been letting it burn at this point. Sucking that cancer in or not, you needed it. Praying to the god of Marlboro that a hit of nicotine will keep your eyes open just a bit longer even if it made it harder at the same time. 

At the tail end of a nine hour shift, you had counted the same bills three times and come up with different numbers each time. Tired to the bones, it was day four of five of work and you had to come back tomorrow at seven pm. It was four forty seven am. You shouldn't have covered those three hours for Chitchat so she could go on that date. She owed you.

You just wanted to go home. Take a nice hot shower while you could still stand up then sleep. Fuck getting groceries tomorrow before work. Thirteen minutes and you were free. Just thirteen more. Thinking about it makes your arms feel heavier. Even counting the cash felt like a chore at this point, but you wanted to exchange the ones and fives in the club rather than making yourself a mark with trash bags full of cash on the subway.

“Hey, Bans! You got a guy!”

You couldn’t even manage a groan. After squeezing your eyes shut for a moment and letting your head tilt back to try to gather yourself as best you can, you rip the cigarette out of your mouth, asking as nicely as you could manage in spite of how your body was tensed up “Table or VIP?” “I dunno,” The other girl said, waddling past you with one of her heels off already, feet bright red from being on them all night. “Just asked for you on my way back and I said I’d get you for him.”

You snuff your smoke out slightly too aggressively, but luckily she doesn’t notice. You weren’t mad at her and didn’t want her to think that so you make sure to check yourself. Whatever, hopefully this would end with a big fat tip for your efforts. Not a bad way to end the night and so you pop a peppermint in your mouth out of the tray on the table and put on your best smile while shuffling your money, zipping it up in your bag to take home.

“Wish me luck.” You say tossing your bag back in the corner and shrugging on your ripped up black crop top, not bothering with your bra.. It was enough. They were lucky you even put your pants, tiny as they were, back on at this point. You weren’t going to put in that kind of effort this early in the morning. “Good luck!” She called after you, giddily flopping on the leather sofa you’d been taking up until then. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you straight up run into the guy after busting through the door a little too hard in your hurry to get home making him take a few staggered steps back. He’d been waiting so close to it you were shocked you didn’t hit him right in his very prominent schnoz. At least you knew who’d asked for you right away. “Well hey there, handsome!” He was, in fact, not handsome. He was- God, he was really sweaty. Why was he so sweaty? You’d barely touched him and you felt like someone hit you with a toad straight out of a parking lot puddle.

“Hh-ih-hhh-hi-” Oh God, he was a weird one. A really weird one. He stood there in all his yellow buck-toothed glory wringing his hands out of his element entirely in his dorky tweed suit with a terrible comb over and coke bottle glasses that magnified his eyes to the point of comedy. Shaking. Trembling. In absolute shambles and for no reason you could see. Existing was this creature’s enemy.

Those big doe eyes blinked up at you and he said…absolutely nothing. He only got out that squeaky greeting. He’d been hard to hear over the music, but you weren’t worried about Mr. Mumbles. You’d have him back in the VIP soon enough and be able to hear him just fine. You put that winning smile on and his shivering intensified. You didn’t think his eyes could get bigger, but he responded to a simple smile like you’d taken your top off in front of him for the second time tonight, but maybe he’d missed that.

He was just your type. Those sweet old nerds that never peaked fell head over heels for you and the 80’s goth aesthetic you so carefully cultivated. You triggered that nostalgia for that youth they missed out on, the prime they could have had. The hot girl in their comp-sci class they could never work up the courage to even wave at in the hall and for a couple of thin easily earned, for them at least, dollars you could be theirs for just a few minutes in the club. To look at and, for the right price, you’d touch them and they could pretend they hadn’t been such losers. If they tried outside of that your boss would remind them what being shoved in a locker felt like though.

“What can the Banshee do for you?” “Ha-hmm-” You glanced at the clock then back at him. There was no such thing as overtime here, little man. You couldn’t say that, but you certainly thought it at least twice before he finally said “I- ah, I was hoping wh-” He had some kind of a nervous tic. It looked like he flinched. Maybe he had, you weren’t a doctor. You couldn’t tell, but it made your hairless brow arch all the same. Around four foot ten, mousey brown hair. Greasy. Just everywhere, greasy all over. His eyes were watery, but it was too dark to see what color they were. He smelled like alcohol, but not the kind from the bar. Isopropyl alcohol.

The job came with its hazards and it looked like this geek might be one of them. You memorized his features the best you could just in case just like your boss taught you. There was plenty going on that would identify him if worse came to worse and plenty of cameras. “I was hh-hoping for a, um, private show?” He sounded funny and it wasn’t just the tic that had him stuttering. He had an accent. English? Now that he was actually managing some words you could hear it. That was weird on its own. This wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. He must work in the city? “Yeah?” You say hoping you sound more interested in it than you actually were.

It seemed to work, perking him up maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I brought money! A lot of money!” He reached into his coat and pulled out the biggest wad of cash you’d ever seen at once with both hands, it had to be at least ten thousand dollars. You grabbed his hands and held them down between the two of you so no one else could see. “Woah! Easy there, killer!” Was he insane?! This was downtown Gotham! Crime Alley was up the street. He’d have jumped for a couple of fives down here if anyone thought he had them in his wallet.

All he did in response was gasp that you had touched him then stare down at where your hands had met his actively vibrating ones. “Let’s take this to the back, alright? You gotta be more careful.” He didn’t move until you moved him. Taking that huge brick of cash in one hand and his wrist in the other, you marched him to the first empty lounge like he was a downright naughty boy being taken to his room.

Once the door was locked you turned to him “You could have been killed for this if anyone saw you with it.” You chastised bringing his hand up to press the cash in it. Making sure his fingers wrapped around it before you let go. He didn’t answer, still staring at your hand on his wrist so you let that go too. Your hands were sopping wet from the sheer amount of sweat pouring off him. 

To his credit, he seemed to function better in the back after what looked like the human version of a computer restarting without warning you first so you lost the progress on that word document you’d been working on for over an hour. Lingering electronic ptsd from high school essays aside, maybe it had been the lights and loud music that had put him over the edge on top of whatever else he was dealing with naturally? You didn’t know, but after that quiet reboot he looked a little more human and less like a rat that had touched the third rail.

At least he was speaking up now. “I didn’t…think about it, I apologize.” He said in an awfully shrill voice making you question why he was apologizing to you? His voice was unsettling and gave you that shiver up your spine the same way something grainy like unpolished glass grinding together did. It had a certain cartoonish quality to it in both pitch and tone. If you’d heard it over the phone you would have sworn he was using some kind of modulator to hide what he really sounded like. Did he genuinely sound that way? If he didn't, why was he putting on a voice like that? 

“I, ah- Well,” He held the money up again “I didn’t know how much to bring, you see, so I-well, I brought what seemed most reasonable for your, um, services?” He poised it as a question more than an answer. Like he was asking if it was reasonable rather than explaining that it was. You squinted at him. That was a reasonable amount of money to him? How disconnected from reality was he? 

“VIP packages start at three fifty.” You informed after crossing your arms, partially trying to find a comfortable way to stand with your back so sore and partially trying to put some defense up against the tiny man now that you were discussing business. He gasped like this was breaking news he couldn’t have googled before coming at all. Your boss had just set up a whole website for it specifically so people would stop trying to haggle with the girls. 

“Well,” The man counted out a few of the hundreds then fidgeted and looked back up at you “What’s the biggest package?” He was nearly cute in a kicked puppy way, but you didn’t let your defense down. You couldn’t afford to even with all that money on the table. “Do you have friends waiting outside or something?” “No! Why, no! No, mam, just me!” You felt your hand touch your cheek as you stared at the weirdo in absolute awed confusion. What on earth was this guy’s deal? 

You were too nice. Always have been. You should have just taken the money. He wanted to spend it and here you were talking him down like an idiot. Take the whole wad and don’t look back, come on! “But-but, miss, I want the most time!” He yelped a little too loudly, it made his voice crack. 

God, he was desperate. Your manicured finger tapped against your cheek as you pondered how this man hadn’t been scammed of every scant cent by now, especially in this city. “We can work that out, but what do you want?” Please, don’t say sex. You weren’t even sure if security was even still in the building and you’d had enough bad experiences with that. “I, um, need to give a presentation?”

What?

The look you must have given him prompted him to explain himself “I just need to give a presentation! At work! A presentation for my work at, uh, work and, well, I-” He melted into nervous giggles before he finished, but managed to suppress them enough to finish after a moment of looking like he was about to run away. “I need to practice. An audience so to speak and-” He looked miserable suddenly. “I don’t…” His voice lowered to a whisper “have any friends.” 

Your heart felt a little pang for him. Ok, more than a little. Same, man. Well, sort of. You had work friends. That wasn’t the same thing as a friend friend, but it wasn’t hard to believe this guy had no one at all. “Truly, I do need this!” He added quickly “It’s very important! My research depends on this! I promise I don’t mean to insult you or waste your time! I could lose funding and-and-” “I’m happy to work something out with you, but let's get you a drink first, alright?” “Alright.” He parroted back happy for the break from explaining himself. Taking quick half breaths on the verge of hyperventilating it looked like.

With peace and love, he didn’t look like a man who could hold his liquor. Nor did he seem like the type that would handle it well if he managed to do so. He needed to relax and there wasn’t anyone better for the job. You were the complete package and proud of it. You knew how to wind them up and just as importantly wind them down. You knew how to make more than a quick few cocktails, it was a part of the job.Thumbing through the Rolodex of recipes in your head you stopped on the first one that wouldn’t kill him on impact. 

A Friar Tuck. Chocolate milk for big boys. You glanced back at him on your way to the fully stocked minibar. Big enough boys. Hazelnut liqueur, dark crème de cacao, and Frangelico with, in this case, some nice cold half n’ half shaken with ice then strained in a glass. “Sip.” You say handing the glass to… hang on a second. 

“Now,” You sat him down in a chair with some gentle ushering “Let’s try this again. Hello, handsome.” He giggled nervously at you and smiled a sort of odd suppressed smile over being called handsome. You realized he was trying to hide his teeth now that he was thinking about it. There was no hiding those buck teeth. “What’s your name?”

“Jervis. Jervis Tetch.”

Banner art: DRCL - Midnight Children by Sakamoto Shinichi

[light-purp-insect]

Palladium (Arkham Jervis Tetch x reader)

Notes/warnings: sfw, noncon drugging, noncon nonsexual nudity, reader is called a girl (Jervis is canonically disconnected from sexuality and gender), reader is called Alice, bathing, light blood mention, whump?

Palladium; a silvery white and malleable element used in machinery and computers. Out of the Platinum Group, it has the lowest melting point and is the least dense.

“Such a silly girl, Alice.” The all too familiar and thin voice sang. High off the remaining Succinylcholine you lay limply in the already dirty bath water. Jervis has removed his gloves and coat to take a rag and wash away the dirt and bloody scratches over your body. “All those thorns must've been terrible, why did you want to play in the garden again?”

Of course you hadn't been playing in the garden, instead trying to escape once again. To no avail, nonetheless and to your dismay. His henchmen had grabbed you before you could truly get through the bushes. You couldn't give him a proper answer, just a loopy mumble of nonsense.

Jervis moved his hands to your legs. The soapy rag burned in some deeper cuts, of which made the Hatter tut at every displeased groan from your throat. “Just behave. We're not done yet, dear Alice.” The rag circled over your calves slowly and methodically. Rose scented soapy water didn't feel as comfortable as it would be if he was here.

Next was your hair, his favorite part of you. A thick glob of shampoo is lathered in his hands before he runs them through your hair and to your scalp. It seems he was going at such a snail's pace just to feel it more. You wanted to pull away, to yell at him or slap him, but instead let out a sluggish huff of protest.

“Hush, dear. Relax for me, just go back to that sleepy little space in your head. I do have to apologize, I didn't mean to give you so much.” He pouted. Rinsing his hands in the water momentarily, he continues, “Nitrous Oxide is so hard to get these days, I hope you can forgive me when you come to your senses.” He carefully tilts your chin and begins to rinse your hair.

Finally it was time for the conditioner, then this session would be over. Unlike the shampoo, he only used a small dollop. He had begun to hum to himself. “After this, it's snuggle time. Maybe I should up that dosage, though…”

[sharksnshakes]

Foggy Mirrors - Jervis Tetch

You can never have too much of a good thing.

AN; more jervis tetch fluff becuase i said so

Wordcount; 507

TW; bathing (reader washes jervis's hair), tooth-rotting fluff, levels of intimacy the likes of which jervis has never experienced

You run your fingers through his damp hair, taking care not to scratch or scrape at his scalp. Below you, Jervis shivers; each pass of your hands has him melting into your touch, though it’s clear he’s trying to stay at least a little on guard. He teeters on the edge of comfort and caution, oscillating between the two as you wet his hair. 

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you lean forward slightly, let your hands fall to his shoulders. 

“Jervis?” 

You’re facing him now, watching his side profile. His eyes are closed. Slammed shut, really, tiny wrinkles feathering out from the corners, like he can’t bear to take a look at the world around him. 

“Hey,” you murmur, voice soft. “Is this… okay? I can stop. Just say the word.” 

It takes a moment, but he shakes his head softly. Steam rises around you in the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror, casting a chalky sheen on the small window that runs along the seam of the ceiling. 

“No, my dear,” he says, voice rough. “It’s quite alright.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” His voice is quiet, yes, but not the same quiet as late at night or early in the morning once you’ve both woken up. It’s small. Unsure. 

“Try to relax. I’ll make this quick,” you reply, tracing a small circle into the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. 

Jervis shudders. Water laps at the sides of the tub, spraying warm droplets onto your jeans. 

“No- uh, t-take your time,” he stammers, eyes shut. “Please.” 

“You let me know,” you murmur, tucking a stray piece of damp hair behind his ear. With that, you lean back, reaching for the shampoo bottle and depositing a generous amount in your palms. 

After working it into a sudsy lather, you gently place your hands back on Jervis’ head. He shivers again, this time softly, and you slowly begin to spread the shampoo throughout his hair. 

After a few moments, you notice that his shudders are closer to purrs--a glance at his face tells you his eyes, while shut, are no longer full of tension. His lashes flutter softly, the backs of your nails scraping gently at the base of his neck. When he groans softly, his eyes snap open, a red flush blooming on his cheeks. 

You pretend not to notice. It’s more for his sake than yours, and you wordlessly continue your ministrations.

When you start in on the conditioner, gently spreading it along the ends of his hair, you feel him lean into your hand. There’s a comforting weight to him, a familiar scent of spices and firework smoke, but also a trace of perfumed hair product.

The process doesn’t take long. Once you’re sure the product is rinsed from Jervis’ hair, you give his shoulders a final, comforting squeeze, then move to leave. 

His hand finds your wrist and you turn, blinking at him owlishly. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice soft. 

“I… of course.” You glance at the door, clear your throat. "Anytime."

[yandere-writer-momo]

This is so niche. But enjoy the insane tiny man!

Yandere DC Shorts:

My Darling Alice

Yandere Mad Hatter x Psychiatrist Fem Reader

TW: obsessive behavior, stalking, kidnapping, being held against one’s will, Mad Hatter is a creep, delusional behavior, very short horror, and mind control (mentioned at end)

“Alice!” Loud giggles spilled through chapped lips as rough hands grasped at her face. (Your name) winced as the dry skin scratched the soft skin of her cheeks. The fabric of Jervis’s fingerless gloves did nothing but make the surface wounds burn ever so slightly. A sadistic reminder that this was no dream… her patient had escaped Arkham and kidnapped her to be his Alice. “My darling Alice… I finally have you in my clutches. Oh it’s wonderful to finally have you in wonderland with me.”

(Your name) caught a glimpse of her reflection and had to gulp down the hole that threatened to erupt from her throat like lava. She was in a baby blue dress with a frilly white apron a top of it. She even had on multiple layers of tile skirts under to make the dress have more shape and crisp white stockings with black Mary Jane’s. Had Jervis changed her clothes?! How on earth did she land in this ridiculously accurate Alice in wonderland attire?

(Your name) was by no means Jervis Tetch’s type! So why… why her?

“Do you love your dress?” Jervis’s lips twisted into a crooked grin, his cheeks aflame in awe. “I personally tailored it to your sizes… it’s an exact replica of the one you made for my Alice doll in Arkham! Oh, my Alice… I’m so happy to have finally found you!”

(Your name) felt her heart sink. She had shown this loon kindness and he interpreted it as affection. This love starved man had set his sights on her and she could do nothing but play along. Unless she wanted to end up like the Alices before her.

“Jervis, I’m not-“ He bent down to kiss her cheeks. A shiver ran down her spine from how acrid the scent of his breath was.

“Nonsense. You’re perfect, my Alice.”

(Your name) felt a zap on her head and then her body was under his will like a marionette guided by its strings by a puppeteer.

“There we go… now be a proper Alice and come adore your Mad Hatter.”

[batman-dc-imagines]

Incorrect quotes with the J Squad + (Name)

(Name): Yo is Jerome sleeping or dead?

Jon: Hopefully dead, I hated his guts.

Jervis: Yeah, so did I.

Jerome: Okay first of all, fuck you-

——————————————————————

(Name): *Screams*

Jerome: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Jon: Should we do something?

Jervis: No, I want to see who wins

——————————————————————

(Name): Everyone, synchronize your watches.

Jerome: I don’t know how to do that.

Jon: I don’t wear a watch.

Jervis: Time is a construct.

——————————————————————

(Name): Can I be frank with you guys?

Jerome: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Jon: Can I still be Jon?

Jervis: Shh, let Frank speak.

(Name): I hate y’all.

Jervis: You don’t mean that, Frank.

——————————————————————

(Name), about Jerome: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Jon: Are we stealing them?

Jervis: New or used?

(Name): Wonderful responses, both of you.

——————————————————————

(Name): How did none of you hear what I just said?

Jervis: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Jerome: I got distracted about halfway through.

Jon: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

——————————————————————

(Name): Dammit, Jerome!

Jerome: What?! It wasn’t me!

(Name): Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Jon!

Jon: Not me either.

(Name): Oh...Then who set the house on fire?

Jervis: *whistles*

(Name): JERVIS-

——————————————————————

*(Name) is cooking*

Jerome: Any chance that’s for me?

(Name): It’s for Jervis. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side.

Jon: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

——————————————————————

Jervis: I think (Name) was right.

Jon: I'm surprised they haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Jerome: They wouldn't do that.

(Name): You're right, Jerome. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

(Name): *turns around, the shirt they're wearing saying 'I told you so' on the back*

——————————————————————

Jerome, banging on the door: Baghead! Open up!

Jon: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Jervis: No, he meant-

(Name): Let him finish.

——————————————————————

(Name): Have you seen Jerome around here?

Jon: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Jervis: It looks fine to me?

Jon: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

——————————————————————

Jon: Why are (Name) and Jerome sitting with their backs to each other?

Jervis: They had a fight.

Jon: Then why are they holding hands?

Jervis: They get sad when they fight.

[manofmayayay]

OKAYYYY i caved here’s that mystery lady

Her name is Aria say hiiiii!! I’m still working on her story but basically she works as an archivists at Wayne enterprises so ummm yeah she saw Jervis every now and then ILL FIGURE GHIS OUT LATER BYE

[princess-hope-selfships]

I made this during my recent hiatus and forgot to post it lol

he's obsessed with me which has been a... problem for him in the past, but! GOOD NEWS FOR HIM! I crave that shit 😎

taglist: @goldenworldsabound @literally-just-there @disabledbears @cj-self-ships @mouseycometz

@aego-philautia @sunstar-of-the-north @selfshipping-baby

feel free to ask to be added or removed!

🚫please dni if you are a minor, or an adult who selfships with minors, thank you!🚫

based on the screencaps below the cut!

[caesariawritesstuff]

Can you do general NSFW headcannons (💐) for BTAS Jervis (yes another one for him even after all the other ones you did /lh)

NSFW Hatter Headcanons

Summary: 12 NSFW Hatter Headcanons

Word Count: 520

Content Warning: Sexual content & descriptions

A/N: I hope you enjoy, anon!

This man is gentle as gentle can be. Despite his exterior, he’s a gentle lover, and does not like to be rough. He prefers sex to be as intimate as can be.

That said, he’s also very shy and insecure about his body. It takes quite a bit of convincing to get him into a state of undress.

Not only is he shy, but he’s also inexperienced. And being around you, seeing you naked, makes him nervous. He stumbles over his words and doesn’t know where to touch you. At least not at first. But Jervis is a quick learner, and once he knows your body inside and out, he’s going to take his time.

Jervis doesn’t like sex to be rough and quick – he prefers it to be something slow, quiet, and intimate. He likes to take his time, exploring every inch and crevice and curve of your body like you’re a work of art. He doesn’t want to miss an inch that he can kiss or caress in some way.

Jervis most likes to use his mouth and hands. His hands are on the larger side, perfect to grip at you chest or thighs or ass. He’s definitely a boob guy – he can’t stop staring at their perfect, round shape, or the way your nipples pert and stand at attention when he takes the soft bud into his mouth to massage with his tongue.

However, because of his own nerves, Jervis is shy about you exploring his own body, too. His skin flushes with embarrassment, and he closes his eyes when you touch him. His muscles tense under your touch, stumbling over his words, unsure of what to ask for.

However, that doesn’t mean Jervis isn’t open to letting you explore his own body. He’ll lie there and let you explore him with your hands and tongue and eyes. His hips and thighs are particularly sensitive, and he can’t help but gasp when you graze the area with your tongue.

When it comes time for business, Jervis likes to take it slow. He enters you carefully, sighing at the sensation. He’s particularly a man of cockwarming, and would sit inside of you for hours if he could help it.

Jervis prefers to be on top, you on top, or side-by-side sex. While he likes doggy, he prefers to have to be close and look into your eyes while he fucks you, and finds doggy too be too impersonal for his taste.

10. Jervis is generally on the slightly larger than average size. He’s not huge by any means, but his cock is the perfect size to get the job done.

11.) Jervis fucks you slowly, preferring you keep your eyes on him the entire time. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and buries his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent.

12. Jervis is also a cuddler. When it’s over, he prefers to spoon or let you lay on his chest. He really likes keeping you as close as possible and never wants to let you go.

[acapelladitty]

Jervis Tetch/Reader – Poetry

Summary: Jervis attempts to teach you a new poem in his own 'special' way.

"How doth the little crocod-"

Snapping off your recital with a sharp gasp, your fingers curl around the edge of the table until the whites of your knuckles appear as you fight the urge to press your knees together and escape the torment you were being subject to.

"Alice!" A slightly muffled yet pointed tone breaks through your concentration and you glance down at the delicate tablecloth which covers both the wooden table and the wicked man hidden below.

"You have failed, silly girl! Again!"

Arousal dropping his higher-pitched tone down a few notches, Jervis sounded positively smug as his hands pressed roughly into your thighs - his hot breath ghosting across your sex as he remained between your legs.

Coughing, you begin again.

"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail, and pour the wat-Hatter!"

Another cry slips past your lips as his tongue swipes a cruel line along your slit; the very tip of it brushing against your swollen and easily over-stimulated clit and forcing your knees to smack against the table as you jerk in place.

Warm pleasure, tainted by aching desire, shudders down your spine and your hands are quick to pull up the hem of your dress. Exposed and looking far too stern despite the slight gloss of his mouth - a mess of the juices he had been delightfully wringing from you for the last half hour - Jervis' lips were tilted in obvious disapproval.

"Naughty rabbit." He tutted, soft hands massaging your inner thighs with a surprising strength. "Your lessons are going poorly, Alice. A simple poem, simple as chips, and you're sounding positively mad!"

"Jervis," you whine, cunt clenching around nothing as he remains pulled back, "please?"

"How doth-" Jervis prompted, shaking his head.

Groaning out your dissatisfaction, you drop the hem once again and return your shaking hands to the table as you prepare for another wicked edging.

"How doth the little crocodile-"

[knoepfl]

“Through the Looking Glass”

Characters:

Jervis Tetch (Mad Hatter) – A deranged and lonely man obsessed with Alice in Wonderland, using mind control to twist others into playing roles in his delusions.

Reader (You) – A new obsession for Jervis. He sees you as his perfect "Alice" and will do anything to keep you by his side.

Trigger Warnings:

Obsession and mental manipulation

Kidnapping and mind control themes

Unreliable perception of reality

Masterlist

Words: 1063

The narrow streets of Gotham were shrouded in a thick mist, moonlight filtering weakly through the haze. You knew it was dangerous to wander alone at night, but something had compelled you to move through the darkness, as if pulled by invisible strings.

And then, you’d found him—or maybe he’d found you.

You woke up in a room draped with tattered silk and moth-eaten velvet, the air heavy with the scent of stale tea and dusty books. A single flickering lamp cast uneven shadows across the mismatched furniture, giving everything a distorted, dreamlike quality.

“Ah, my dear!” a familiar, singsong voice echoed from the doorway. “You’ve finally arrived. The long wait is over—at last, Alice is home.”

You blinked groggily, disoriented, your head pounding as you tried to sit up. Across the room stood a slender man dressed in a patchwork suit, his wide-brimmed top hat tilted at a jaunty angle. His pale face stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“W-Where am I?” you whispered, glancing around.

Jervis Tetch clasped his hands together, a delighted laugh bubbling from his lips. “Where you’re supposed to be, my dear—right here, with me! The Mad Hatter and his Alice, just as it’s meant to be. Isn’t it wonderful?”

You frowned, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together how you ended up here. You remembered… nothing. Just foggy images—his voice, warm and inviting, guiding you through the night. And now you were here, wherever here was.

“Let me go,” you said, heart racing. “I don’t belong here.”

Jervis’s smile faltered for only a second before snapping back into place, though the cheer in his eyes flickered with something far more dangerous. “No, no, no, my dear… you mustn’t say such silly things. Of course you belong here—you’re my Alice. And every Alice needs her Wonderland!”

He stepped closer, movements light and graceful, as though he were gliding through a dream. “The real world is so… dreadful, don’t you think? But here, oh… here, we can play and dance and drink tea forever.”

You tried to stand, but your legs wobbled beneath you. Jervis caught you before you could collapse, his hands strangely gentle. “Careful now,” he cooed, “you’ve had quite the journey. You must rest, my dear. There’s so much to do, so much to see—but first, you must adjust.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. “What did you do to me?”

Jervis tilted his head, as if pondering the question. “I only gave you what you needed. A way out, a way here. You see, the world is cruel, my sweet Alice. It breaks hearts, crushes dreams…” His voice dropped into a hushed whisper. “But not in Wonderland. Not here with me.”

You pulled back from him, your pulse thundering in your ears. “I’m not Alice. I don’t even know who you are!”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his expression twisting into something equal parts disappointment and frustration. “Ah, my dear… You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? But that’s quite all right. Memory can be such a troublesome thing. In time, it will come back.”

He crouched before you, tilting his head like a curious child. “You see, everyone needs a story, my dear. A role to play. And yours… oh, yours is the most important of all. You are Alice, and I—” He gave a grand, sweeping bow. “—am your humble Mad Hatter.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your limbs refused to obey. A strange, hazy warmth clouded your mind, as though a part of you were slipping deeper into his web with every passing second.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered, his voice soft and hypnotic. “The more you resist, the more it hurts. Just let go… and fall through the looking glass.”

Jervis took your hand gently, guiding you toward a small, cluttered table set with chipped porcelain cups and mismatched saucers. The teapot in the center let off a trail of steam, filling the room with the scent of chamomile and madness.

“Sit, sit!” he urged, practically vibrating with excitement. “We must have tea—oh, yes! A very merry un-birthday to you!”

You sank into the chair without meaning to, as though your body responded to his commands without your permission.

He poured tea with a flourish, eyes gleaming with manic joy. “Ah, isn’t this perfect? Just as it should be. No more lonely nights. No more searching. We’re together now, and we’ll never be apart.”

You stared into the swirling tea, mind racing as you tried to break free of the strange fog dulling your thoughts. “Please… let me go.”

Jervis paused, teapot still in hand, his expression darkening like a sudden storm. “Let you go?” His voice was soft, almost hurt. Then, slowly, it twisted into a low, bitter laugh. “Oh, Alice… You still don’t understand, do you? You’re already gone.”

He reached out, tracing a finger along the rim of your cup. “There is no escape from Wonderland, my dear. No way out, no way back. This is where you belong. With me.”

His hand drifted to your cheek, caressing it with unsettling tenderness. “We’ll be so happy here. I’ll keep you safe, my sweet Alice. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Tears stung your eyes as you fought against the haze, struggling to remember who you were before this nightmare began. But the memories were slippery, fading like smoke through your fingers.

Jervis’s gaze softened, and for a brief, haunting moment, you saw something vulnerable in his eyes—something desperate and broken, clinging to the only fantasy that gave his fractured mind meaning.

“Don’t cry, my dear,” he whispered, leaning closer. “You’re home now. And I’ll take care of you… always.”

His voice was a lullaby, drawing you deeper into the dream. The room seemed to spin, the edges of reality unraveling like threads pulled from a tapestry.

“You’ll see,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “In time, you’ll forget all about that dreadful world. And then, my dear Alice…” His lips curled into a soft, dreamy smile. “We’ll be together, forever and ever.”

And as the world faded around you, slipping into a haze of tea parties and riddles, you realized—maybe you were already too far gone to wake up.

Because in his Wonderland, the Mad Hatter always got his Alice...

[iepurasdepraf]

I wrote this a bit ago for a thing, but I like it so here you go.

"Get up, get up, get up!" This is the start of your morning. This is the start to not every morning, but most. "Alice, you must get up! We're late! Late late late! Always late! Just like that silly rabbit." He is shaking you now, not harshly, but it's getting there. If you don't get up, he will leave bruises. He won't mean to, but bless his heart he just gets so excited. It's another day with you, together. Alice and the Hatter and whatever magical adventures the day dictates for you. 

"I don't want to take it!" He whines minutes later after you'd been rousted and ousted from the sanctuary of bed. You'd brushed your teeth and he'd brushed your hair because he does it the best, you know? He'd styled it just so. 

"But you must take them." You say trying to keep yourself from sounding irritated because it's 7:30 am on a Sunday. If you sound too harsh you'll hurt his feelings and make him cry. You don't want him to cry. You love this man, you truly do, and he loves you, but today he is in one of his moods and he's not having his medication.

"No, I don't think so." He says, crossing his arms, turning away from you with his nose in the air defiantly. "They make me feel funny. Too much sense, too much! I won't have them." "Not even for me?" You ask with just enough lilt in your voice to make it seem like he might have hurt your feelings. He hadn't, but as much as you didn't want to hurt him, he doesn't want to hurt you and you know that. You're a manipulative little shit when you need to be. For the greater good.

He side-eyes you. His absolutely stunning eyes narrow. Oh, the moths in the pit of your stomach fluter. Is he on to you? He's caught on before and it's caused a tantrum because you were playing dirty. He minds that more sometimes than he does others. Depends on if the day ends in y for as much sense as it makes. Jervis purses his lips, nose crinkling just some. You can practically hear the hex nut bouncing around in the spinning gears of his utterly brilliant mind until he says "Only if you let me pick what we have for breakfast." You can't help, but sigh in relief. He could have anything he wanted. "Of course." You just wanted what was best for him even if he didn't always see it that way.

He wanted a proper English breakfast, which you had to google what that was because he kept changing what was contained the three times he tried to explain it because he got distracted by you existing within a two foot radius of him while talking and started giggling and touching your hands. Which was cute, you admit, but not helpful. "Jervis, we don't have everything we need to-" Oh no. Oh fuck. You'd made a mistake. 

"Then we'll have to make a run to the shops!"

Not the shops. "Jervis..." He stood looking at you wide-eyed for a beat, just long enough to give you hope he was taking into consideration your social phobias and the fact a one hour shopping trip for anyone was at least three hours with him, but no."No breakfast, no medication."  He says after he'd plucked the pill organizer from the counter and shakes it at you with all the cheek and sass he could build up in that tiny frame. You acquiesce, somewhat bitterly, to his demands. You have no power here. 

Well, that’s not true. You and Jervis worked very hard to maintain a balance between the two of you. You are both control freaks and so it required a little give and take mutually to keep both sides of the scale even-keeled. 

Sometimes it was big things, like going to the store even though you’d rather just go back to bed because he had to take his medicine even if it was a little late. Sometimes it was small things, like letting Jervis be the one to be the bearer of the quarter required for getting the cart. It barely mattered and it made him happy. Why would you say no? 

In the store is where he pays you back for that small kindness. You do not like people. He doesn’t either, but not quite in the same way. He just doesn’t like them, they’re normal and likely judging him. On a bad day, actively plotting against him. Suspicious, paranoid. You, however, are afraid of them. So he lets you hold onto the back of his coat while he pushes the cart.

He body blocks with that tiny narrow body of his in the aisles. He even lets you pointlessly hide behind him if people come too close even though you’re several feet taller and they can plainly see you. You’d not be able to tell he only scraped up to 4’10 at his tallest by the way he puffs himself up to take up all the space he can to give you those few more precious inches of security. He’ll even let you hide in the dairy section, in that cleared out corner by the employee only doors, and pet your hands when it all becomes too much for a little while and you start to shake and hyperventilate. There there, love, he’d say, Jervis is here and the work nearly done. 

It’s all worth it to make him take his medicine, you remind yourself. He’s so worth it. 

He brings you a carton of butter pecan icecream because he knows it’s your favorite. 

You make sure he doesn’t get the spicy sausages because he sometimes gets too excited and just grabs things without looking.He gets distracted, he can’t help it. He’ll go for something and come back with something entirely else. His quarry forgotten halfway to it. You watch him go for beans and get drawn to fruit cocktail. You let him involve himself with the new can, read it, bring it to you all excited because there’s more cherries now. That’s lovely. “You forgot your beans.” Gasp. He’d forgotten his beans.

Off he goes to get them. You let him do this over and over because even if this place gets you in a cold sweat this is enrichment for him. He wants to go down every aisle and just look at things, you would rather only go down the ones you know have things you need on. It’s fine. He’s out. He’s with you. There’s more cherries in the can now. He’s happy and that’s all you want. He does eventually get those beans. He always eventually gets whatever it was he set out for. 

There’s a small argument over if back bacon is better than thick cut pork belly. Back bacon is more like a porkchop. It doesn’t get crispy and if you wanted a porkchop you’d just buy a goddamn porkchop. “Ah,” He says holding a ham steak for some reason “But you only need one of these bacon. You need many of those.” The ham steak has been added to the cart. You don’t know why. You don’t think he does either. “But these,” You say, shaking the package of Applegate Uncured Sunday Bacon at him “Taste better.” “That is subjective!” He argues putting his hands on his hips, feeling all that vinegar from the fish and chips in his veins about it. “It’s bland.” “It’s lean!” “It’s a porkchop.” “You love porkchops!” This goes on for twenty minutes. Neither of you win the argument. There are people looking at you.

You leave the store having somehow spent twice the amount you expected to both of you completely forgetting the mushrooms. The ride home is comfortable and quiet. He’s had his excitement for the day. You’ve had yours for the week if not the month. He got bubbles at some point. You don’t remember paying for them. “I’m hungry.” He says while your both carrying in the bags. It’s 10:27am on a Sunday. “What’s for brunch?” “Full english.” You say. He’s very excited about that, oh yes. “I don’t know if we have any beans though, can’t have a full english without beans.” He says looking so worried it hurts a little. You reach into the bag and tahdah. His beans. He gasps! You’re a magician to him for a few giddy seconds. 

Cooking with him is always a delight and this time he’s showing you how to make something. Usually it was the other way around. Jervis was simply more of a baker while you were more of a cook. Nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with that at all. He shows you just how to cook the tomatoes, the potatoes, the sausages to English specification. You know how to cook these things, but he’s so excited to show you that you don’t say anything about it even if this is the twenty third or so time he’s shown you.

He can’t do sunny side up eggs, while he enjoys the taste he can’t endure the texture and you don’t subject him to them. You scramble them just the way he likes with a little splash of milk and he’s hugging your leg because you remembered! It means so much that you always remember things like that. 

He watches you cook the back bacon and nods in approval when you flip it at what was apparently the right time. He has a spot he likes to sit in, he has a plate he likes to eat off of, a fork, a cup. You know and you make sure you don’t use anything else. He makes his own cuppa because his taste in tea is ever changing and what he liked yesterday isn’t what he likes today. 

“Don’t forget,” You say, setting his pill container by his plate while you’re putting up the rest of the groceries. “to take your medicine.” “Oh!” He hurriedly takes them, washing them down with his tea before he even gets in his chair to eat. “Thank you, darling. What would I do without you?” You smile and just shrug. You don’t know and you don’t want to think about it.

He beams at you and for a split second right at the end of his expression there’s a look on his face. Like he knows something. A split second of lucidity? Maybe. Or maybe he’d put on yet another brilliant performance as a mad man who tricks you into getting out of the house with his Machiavellian machinations of very specific breakfasts. You couldn’t tell. Maybe he just didn’t like how you were watching him sit down because he was short and the chair was tall. He’d never tell and it wasn’t something you would ever ask. 

“Oh,” You look up from the sausage you’re eating straight out of the pan “Something wrong?” He looks sheepishly at you “You were right about the bacon.”

[moxtoons]

I miss hatter crow. Spare a crumb of hatter crow please

I've been wanting to draw these boys for a while 💛

Feels good to go back to some BTAS work.

Reblogs are appreciated please don't Repost