had hatter


You’re the good different, you’re the good strange.

Alice & The Mad Hatter + Moodboard

Leaked Dork Squad script from The War of Jokes and Riddles

Jervis: You’re smiling, did something good happen?

Edward: Can’t I smile because I feel like it?

Jonathan: Joker tripped and fell in the parking lot

  • Jonathan Crane: Guys, Halloween isn't a date on the calendar.
  • Edward Nygma: Yeah, it is. It's the 31st.
  • Jonathan Crane: No, Halloween is in your hearts. Every time a little kid cries in fear, that's Halloween. As long as you carry the spirit of destruction and vandalism in your hearts, every day is Halloween!
  • Jervis Tetch: *pointing at calendar* No look, it is the 31st!
  • Jonathan Crane: *sighs*

You see the Riddler in the streets. You nod as you walk past, but he stops and stares. You stop too, turning to face him. You maintain eye contact. You blink; he’s gone, leaving just a puff of green smoke which disappears in seconds.

It is early in the morning (or late at night. You can not tell), and stick your head out of the window, feeling the wind on your skin and hearing the almost silent city quiet, little noises. A black cat runs past you, and you follow it with your head, smiling quietly. The cat returns after leaving for ten minutes (exact), and you place a bowl of milk on your window ledge. The cat eagerly drinks, and soon, there’s a woman standing over you. She nods, though her face remains emotionless. She leaves, and the cat is now gone too.

There’s a man in the bookstore; he’s the only other person in the aisle (and maybe the shop, if you don’t count the shopkeeper; speaking of them, where did they go?). You are meters away, not even that, and you both go to grab the same book; Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland. You do not remember wanting that book, or even reaching for it. You retrieve your hand, and the other man smiles an insane kind of grin, and you back away, though do not feel terrified like you should. He leaves first; you continue browsing as if nothing had happened.

A coin lands in front of you as you walk down the street, creating a small crack in the pavement. You look up to the sky; you see nothing. You look forward again, about to continue your journey, but another man is there. He is not who he was trying to imitate (he is not two-face). You ask for his name but he just grabs the coin, winks, and disappears (you do not know how. He was just gone. There is no explanation).

You walk into the butchers, hoping to buy some beef for your Sunday dinner. No one is at the counter and it is deadly silent; you decide to explore. You lift up the hatch, walking through into the back room. Carcases of pigs and sheep hang from the metal hooks, and you shiver from the cold. An icy figure is watching you, with glowing red eyes. You run away. He does not follow.

A crow perches on your shoulder. You have no idea where she came from but you continue with your day as if it is normal (by now, it is). She squarks, makes as much noise as her little body can, but you just turn your music up louder (since when did you listen to Taylor Swift?). The crow, the next time you check, is gone; you feel strangely empty. You are all alone, never to find a friend again. 

You visit a makeup salon. A man is there, face full of white (skin) and red (lips), with a side of green (hair), and he smiles, nods, g r i n s. He says something, his voice soothing and convincing; you don’t quite catch what he says, though don’t ask him to repeat himself. Instead, you frown, make yourself angry, turn away and run away. You do not know what caused this reaction. You forget about this encounter.

Pink and blue; pink and blue; pink and blue and PUDDING. One time, she is happy. One time, she is sad. She is unpredictable. Somehow, you are scared of her the most. She gives you a sweet (offers, really). You accept, gratefully, though do not eat. You throw it on the ground (in grass). A plant starts to grow. Ah. So a trick from her girlfriend (goddess).

The real ‘coin man’ is here (you can not say his name; he will find you). His face is missing, and now so is yours. Goodbye, face. You can no longer smile; you can no longer laugh; everything hurts but it is also painless. Goodbye, face.

The sewers smell bad today. You do not care, yet your neighbour does. He is now gone. He is now a crocodile. This is okay. This is normal. (Why do people still live in Gotham City?) 

A penguin (but a man) is here. His nose is pointy, but not. You have mixed feelings about him. He orders a scotch (you are not a bartender; you are now a bartender), and you rush to make one. You slide it across the bar; he takes small sips. He remains there hours, still on his first drink (still on his shot of scotch). “You wanna ‘nother?” You ask, and your voice is no longer your own (not your accent, not your way of speech. It is fine. It happens all the time recently). He does not nod or shake his head; he is emotionless (but full of little emotions). You give him a beer (or wine; you can not tell). It is gone, though no one touches it. You nod. He does not nod (yet, he does at the same time). You are gone. 

A lady (a goddess) dresses in green. She is in your room (or your garden; you can’t tell. All you know is that everything is ivy green). Her voice is powerful, perfect, and luring as she sings to the pink (not green, not green) flowers, which are growing faster and slower than you’ve ever seen. You, for some reason, pick a leaf of a plant. She turns; she glares. You feel a stabbing pain; you cry out. She does not disappear as (some) of the other did. She stands over you as you collapse to the floor. She is your demise. 

     You are dead.

         She is your demise.


“"The time has come", the Walrus said, “to talk of many things… of bears and snakes, and clever crimes. That spring from circus rings."”

Mad Hatter/Jervis Tetch Moodboards

Scarecrow teaches Riddler an important lesson in fear
  • Jervis: Edward thinks he's on his way to China and you've just been torturing him in this box for three days?
  • Jonathan: Yeah
  • Jervis: Can he breathe in there!?
  • Jonathan: He's still making noises.
  • Jervis: ...and he has food and water?
  • Jonathan: Yeah
  • Jervis: ...
  • Jervis: Well, alright then.

mad-hatter-ison  asked:

it's cool about the idea, but did you saw Bendy in an adorable summer wear, including the little sailor cap X3 He looks so adorable that you can just take him home!

I’m ready for fun beachtimes and summer!!

Mad Hatter

Anonymous said:

Could you do an imagine where the reader is the mad hatter (but gender bent and no Jefferson) and she ends up on neverland, so Peter finds her and the reader sasses him to tipping point and threatens her only for her to do the same back but the reader is crazy and badass Long winded but I don’t see enough imagines with psycho reader and could you finish it how ever you want? Ty, love your writing! :)


Warning/s: gore, dark/psycho reader


Summary: you’re the mad hatter

note to my sister: stop right there and don’t continue reading. (ignore this note if you aren’t my sis ^_^ )

~In Neverland~

A cloud of colourful smoke appeared in the middle of the woods, revealing a girl. The girl was wearing an odd looking outfit and a top hat. The girl stood up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. She ‘tsked’ and shook her head.

“I guess she didn’t liked my present” she tilted her head remembering what happened earlier.


It was the Queen’s birthday and everyone is expected to give her a present. Y/N, the mad hatter, had an amazing idea on what she was about to give the queen. She let out a sinister laugh and skipped through the woods, finding the one thing she needed.

“Here puppy” she whistled and looked around. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” She cooed and smirked when she sensed something running towards her. A gigantic, terrifying looking dog came running towards her but she didn’t show any hint of fear. Instead, she took out a large chain and wrapped it around the dog’s neck, dragging it towards the queen’s castle. At last, she finally got the thing she needed for the queen’s present.  

Y/N was wearing the biggest grin as she walked towards the queen’s throne.

“What do you have for our highness, hatter?” one of the knights asked.

Y/N grinned and dragged the gigantic dog in sight, making the knights reach out for their swords.

“A dog?” the queen questioned.

“Oh the dog is not the present, your highness. At least not its body.” Y/N laughed madly as she took out an ax and chopped the dog’s head off making the queen scream in terror.

“The head is” Y/N grinned and bowed. The queen glared at her, making her frown.

“Don’t you like it?” Y/N asked, her eyes twitching.

“She’s crazy” one of the knights whispered.

Y/N slowly turned her head towards the knight with a sinister smile. She walked towards him and stopped just a few inches away from him.

“Oh I’m not crazy. Just a little bit mad” and then she swung her ax towards the knight’s head, making it fly far away and stain Y/N’s face with blood. Y/N turned back to the queen with a sinister smile. “Did you like it, your highness?”

The queen frowned at her and waved her hands towards her, “I banish you from Wonderland, Y/N” and with that, Y/N disappeared in a cloud of smoke, taking her somewhere far away from Wonderland.


~present time~

Y/N chuckled at the memory and walked towards the sea. She looked at her reflection and frowned as she saw the blood splattered on her face.

“That stupid knight.” she reached for the water and used it to clean her face up. A mermaid suddenly raised from the water, smirking at Y/N. Y/N tilted her head to the side with amusement.

“Hey there fishy.” Y/N chuckled. The mermaid hissed at her and tried to grab her hand but failed when Y/N stood up.

“You know, you remind me of this game called ‘Whac-a-mole’. The mole rises from the hole and you try to hit them.” Y/N rubbed her chin as if there was a beard there. “Why don’t you call your friends? I’ll be here, waiting.” Y/N smiled at the mermaid. The mermaid smirked at her and swam away, calling her fellow mermaids. Y/N took her top hat off and reached inside it. She took her hand out revealing a mallet. After the waiting, the mermaids finally arrived and one by one, tried to reach out for Y/N. Y/N laughed darkly as she watched the mermaids jumped out the water, just to fall back down.

“I guess I get to play ‘whac-a-siren’ this time” Y/N chuckled as she hit one of the mermaids on the head with the mallet. The mermaid fell down the water, making the water turn red with blood. Y/N hit a couple of mermaids before the others dispersed in fear. “Awe. You guys are no fun!” Y/N pouted as she stared at the now red sea.

“That’s quite a show, love” a boy popped out behind Y/N. Y/N turned around with a smile. “It was fun playing.” Y/N laughed.

“I’m Peter. Peter Pan” the boy introduced himself.

“Cute” Y/N chuckled. Pan glared at her.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just that I heard a lot about this ‘Peter Pan’ and I think people overestimated him.” Y/N shrugged.

“Are you insulting me?” Pan squinted his eyes at Y/N.

“It’s all how you interpret what I’m saying, love” Y/N mocked him. Pan’s face turned red in anger and he used his magic on Y/N, making her freeze in place.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get on my bad side.” Pan warned.

“Are you threatening me? That’s cute” Y/N chuckled and freed herself from Pan’s magic.

“How did you do that?” Pan stumbled back in shock.

Y/N walked towards Pan’s frozen figure and lightly tilted his chin with her long fingers, making him look at her.

“I think you’re the one who needs to stay away from my bad side, love.” Y/N winked,pecked his lips and poofed away, leaving a confused and amused Pan.

note: there’s not much chemistry in here but wth

if you’re my sister and you just read all that.. fuck off. pls stop stalking my blog. it’s cringy.

[7:37 PM] BAD KEY MACHINE: foolisH
[7:38 PM] BAD KEY MACHINE: you gotta finish so I can see the cryptid hat
[7:38 PM] dr. webber: ok
[7:40 PM] World’s Strongest Cam: i’m going to picture wx sticking their leg out at like a 135 degree angle every time you say “foolish”
[7:40 PM] World’s Strongest Cam: like that one I drew
[7:42 PM] BAD KEY MACHINE: Cam, I am ALWAYS sticking my leggy out at 135 degrees
[7:43 PM] World’s Strongest Cam: How do you walk
[7:43 PM] BAD KEY MACHINE: :crab:
[7:43 PM] World’s Strongest Cam: oh i was assuming the answer would be “hopping on one leg”
[7:43 PM] BAD KEY MACHINE: FOOLISH clacks claws and scuddles

I drew this while I was in Calgary


“ The law is just, just a whisper away, a way to wonder, wonder who. Who knows how to measure rules…With a ruler! Cruel rules…” ~ Hatter

{ A Time Obsessed Merciless Mad Man who hasn’t had time on his side }

The Mad Hatter remains a fanatic of time, but is no longer the tea party-loving hatter that he was during Alice Liddell’s last visit to Wonderland. He has finally snapped, and became a half-organic, half-metallic rendition of his former self.

- Appearance  -

The Hatter had turned into a tall, long-limbed cyborg. He was green-skinned, with a large nose and ears, tiny eyes, and his teeth bore an overbite. His body was made out of metal and wood, and he had a rusted cog sticking out of his back. His clothes consisted of a loose straightjacket, black trousers, and dress shoes with spats. He also wore a large black-and-white checkerboard top hat, covered in alchemy symbols and a few drops of blood.

- Personality  -

The Mad Hatter is a psychopath, literally gone “mad” (or perhaps madder than ever) and obsessed with time and clockworks, who considers himself to be a genius. He invents mechanical devices, often evidently using the bodies of living organisms for the base of his inventions, as he plans to do to all of Wonderland’s inhabitants.
His automaton victims include the March Hare, the Dormouse, and countless Insane Children taken from the Hatter’s asylum; the Hatter himself is also mostly mechanical, as revealed in the conclusion of his battle with Alice when his body short-circuits and his head explodes.

- American McGee’s Alice -

Before the fire began, the Hatter was holding a tea party with Alice and her other Wonderland friends. When the added chapter “Smoke and Fire” began in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the Hatter screamed in alarm when a fire broke out and the White Rabbit screamed that “[they] must save Alice”. The Mad Hatter’s cries roused Alice from her dream so that she could survive the fire.
Later, Alice and the White Rabbit were seeking out the Caterpillar in Wonderland Woods when the Mad Hatter killed the Rabbit, crushing him flat beneath his foot as both he and Alice were still shrunken down at this time. This action seems to be intentional and not accidental, as the Mad Hatter appears to be pressing his foot. The Mad Hatter was also presumably responsible for having repaired the Jabberwock by replacing body parts with metal and machinery, having been left drastically disfigured by the Vorpal Blade.

Hatter about to hit Alice unconscious.
Once the Red King was defeated, the Mad Hatter appeared behind Alice and knocked her out, transporting her to a mad funhouse that was a reminiscent of Rutledge Asylum. Shortly after defeating the Tweedles, the Hatter revealed himself and talked to Alice, citing several of her fears when she stated that she feared nothing. He told her that it might be avoided, causing her to question what he meant before the floor crumbled around her and sent her falling into Crazed Clockwork.
Along the way, she discovered the imprisoned Dormouse, March Hare, and Gryphon, who told her that the Hatter had gone mad and planned to turn the inhabitants into automatons or kill them in the process, as well as his habit of checking on his experiments at six o’ clock. Alice messed up with the clock’s gears in order to make “six come early.”[8] Alice eventually defeated him in his lair and he stopped moving when his head exploded. He was later resurrected after the Queen of Hearts was destroyed, now no longer hostile to Alice.

- Madness Returns -

The Mad Hatter had been ironically torn apart at the hands of his former victims, the March Hare and the Dormouse. Alice found his head and torso in the garbage dump of his domain. She offered to collect the rest of his limbs in exchange for help.
After successfully retrieving his arms and legs, Hatter became delighted, but refused to reveal any information and resorted to jabbering nonsense when Alice asked him about the Infernal Train. He did, however, led her to the main part of the factory, where the Train was built.
After the Train passed through, the Dormouse and Hare appeared in a huge imposing looking mecha, taunting the pair and promising to destroy them. The Hatter became furious with them for their part in Alice’s potential downfall by unleashing the Train. The two new leaders responded to his scolding by snatching him up with a hook. Hatter was able to free himself and destroy the mech within seconds by dropping a giant teapot on it. The weight of the teapot caused March Hare and Dormouse’s deaths.

The Mad Hatter offering tea to a dead March Hare.
The severity of Hatter’s actions finally reached him and he suffered another break with reality. He cradled his dead friends in his arms and told them that all he wanted was another tea party as his domain crumbles around him. He wrapped them both in his arms and offered them tea. Alice persistently demanded information about the Train, but Hatter does not answer her and only told her to talk to the Mock Turtle just seconds before the roof fell and crushed him. Alice says he “deserved to die.”
Much like the White Rabbit, the Hatter appears after his death in Wonderland in the Radula Room Endurance Challenges. Hatter’s status remained unknown, as his appearance in the Radula Room either meant that he was revived after being crushed, or Alice was simply visiting him in some realm of the dead.
The Hatter later appeared on the Infernal Train, criticizing Alice for her methods of solving her problems, reminiscing about a party he had with Hare and Dormouse before they turned on him. He remarked that insanity was no excuse for forgetting, and told Alice that he had tried to forget what Alice had done, but was unsuccessful.

( All info from American McGee’s Alice Wiki )

Worlds Apart (Jefferson x Reader)

Originally posted by divergente-en-llamas

Prompt: I haven’t seen a request for a Jefferson soulmate AU? I’ve no preference for how or when but I feel like he could have used a little love <3

A/N: You’re right anon, Jefferson deserves so much love because we all love him. LOOK AT THAT FACE, I MEAN COME ON. Thank you to the anon who requested this!

Keep reading


Although I’m still fighting through a good amount of physical pain, I can never complain too much when I get to spend my birthday eating my favorite meal at my favorite castle, surrounded by amazing friends and family, receiving wonderful gifts and delicious treats, reading words of love and encouragement… I even had the Mad Hatter start a round of applause for me, and Queen Elsa took a moment out of the Festival of Fantasy parade to tell me happy birthday as well. You all have certainly shown me an abundance of love over the past couple weeks, especially today, and I don’t have enough words to express how grateful I am. Thank you for a wonderful birthday!


Alice: This is what I have to deal with.
Mad Hatter: What YOU have to deal with?! YOU’RE the one who’s been following me ever since you fell down the rabbit hole. [x]

anonymous asked:

For your prompt request maybe a grunge or punk au for dear captain swan? Please?

*disclaimer* I know nothing about any kind of music so I did my best…

The place stank of cigarettes and broken dreams. But that was par the course for Hatters, especially Sundays: Open Mic Night.

Emma Swan pulled up to her usual spot- the one at the farthest end of the bar where she wouldn’t be bothered by any of the regular crowd of middle aged men who still thought they could pull off leather pants and the younger guys who thought there were the first to discover the pure pleasure of rock.

To be fair, Emma wasn’t the type you would expect to frequent a dive bar that specialised in heavy metal and grunge. Her days were spent in confining wool suits, defending questionable types in court as a partner at Gold and Son’s law firm. But that wasn’t who she was. She was much more comfortable in a pair of jeans and a leather jacket, knocking back a couple of fingers of whiskey and letting the relentless bass of some Black Sabbath or Metallica hum through her veins. (And actually, she kinda liked having this secret side to her: her colleagues had no idea about her musical tastes, or the boxes full of vinyl she kept in her spare bedroom.)

She always liked Open Mic. There were, of course, always a few acts who were questionable in their talent, the bands who after ten years were still seeking that big break and the drunks who, well, usually didn’t make it though one chorus. Still it was all worth it, for that one moment when someone special took the stage with raw talent and emotion: that spark was something special, the first flickering of a flame that if given the right encouragement would grow into something unstoppable. Already in the five years she’d been coming, a few of the bands she’d seen at Hatters had gone on to gain national recognition and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that she had been there at the start.

Tonight, she was late. An early dinner with friends had overrun and she’d barely enough time to dash to her apartment and pull on some black skinny jeans and a faded grey t-shirt. Leroy, the bartender, had kept her seat and was already pouring her drink when the lights dimmed and the first act took the stage.

It was one person on a stool, guitar in his hands, amp at his feet. His head was down as the lights rose, his long hair brushing over his forehead and obscuring his face. He didn’t introduce himself as they normally did, instead he started playing.

Yeah, he was good. She watched mesmerised as his hands flew over the strings, picking out complicated chords as he built up to a crescendo and dipped his mouth the the headphone.

And dear god he could sing.

Emma ignored the drink in her hand, the condensation running down her fingers as she became lost in his words. She didn’t recognise the song which surprised her as she had a pretty extensive knowledge of music. It was a tale of woe and angst, of lost love and the pain of moving on when you don’t really want to. Towards the end, he stood, kicking back the stool, his body arching towards the microphone as the whoops and hollers began to fill the small club’s air. She felt her hair stand on end: this was that something special that kept drawing her back here, week after week.

A shiver ran down her spine as the last note hung in the air, his fingers poised above the body of the guitar as she finally lifted his head and nodded, whispering,‘Thank you’.

Craning to see him - see his face - above the crowd who were now stood, she latched her heels onto the stool and rested her palms onto the bar so she could raise herself higher. Heads booked in the way, raised fists in the air - both had her bobbing from side to side to catch a glimpse of this artist who seemed not to want to introduce himself.

And then there it was. A flash of recognition. Those steely eyes that she knew were blue even from this distance. That jaw, with more of a beard that she was familiar with but just as sharp. That face, of a man who had tormented her for months in more ways than one.

It was Killian goddamn Jones: a one time client charged with grand theft of some very expensive jewellery from a very rich widow who her boss had gotten off on a technicality. But not before she had spent countless hours preparing him for court, dealing with his innuendo, his cocky arrogance and his far too cavalier attitude about the whole damn situation.

Clutching her glass, Emma scowled. This was the last place she wanted to be if he was here - no matter how talented he was. He’d done a fine enough job of getting under her skin previously and he just knew how to press her buttons. (So much so that more than once, she’d almost kissed him. His taunting face almost begging her to: knowing that fraternising with a client was a dismissible offence. She was pretty sure he liked to wind her up on purpose, making her hot with his loaded looks and the flowering words he liked to bandy about.)

She downed her drink and tossed a note at Leroy who gave her a curious look. Not in the mood to explain, she shrugged and pointed at her phone. A second later she was stomping towards the door, whilst noticing she actually did have a text message, which she tried to read until she found herself stepping on someones foot.

“Shit, sorry-“ she muttered.

“My my my, Emma Swan, what the devil are you doing here?”

Yeah, of course it was him.

Her mouth went dry. He was too close for her to pretend she didn’t see him (or not realise how good he smelled…). She settled on a shrug.

“Cat got your tongue,” he drawled, taking a drag from the beer in his hand. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead from the lights on the stage and his dark flannel shirt hung open, revealing the low v of his t-shirt and the hair beneath it. “Drink?” he asked, pointing to the bar.

She opened her mouth to say no and the bastard took a step closer, his slight height difference making her have to look up into those dark lashed eyes of his. “I never did get to thank you properly for all your work with my little problem.”

She raised her brows: she’d never heard grand larceny described as a ‘little problem’ before.

“I should go-“ she said. (Even though her heart was already racing a little and her body was saying ’stay, goddamnit’.)

“That’s a shame,” he replied, his face dropping a little and, fuck, she actually believed he meant it.

And then she saw the guitar sat by his table and and the plectrum threaded between the strings and the case behind it covered in ancient band stickers that she remembered from her own youth.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Places to be.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on her face. She was turning to the door, when she thought of something.

“The song - what’s it called.”

“Broken Heart.”

“Never heard of it before,” she shrugged.

“That’s because I wrote it,” he quipped.

She paused, confused and a little uncertain about his honesty. But she was pretty good at spotting liars.


He nodded.

She chewed on her bottom lip a little, before sighing. “One drink. And you have to explain where you learned to play like that.”

“As you wish,” he grinned, his face lighting up and slowly coaxing a smile from her in reply.