The Fairy Tale Is Over, Alice, NC-17
Fandom: SyFy's Alice
Title: The Fairy Tale Is Over
Charcater: Hatter
Rating: NC-17, more for theme than graphic
Word Count: 710
Summary: Wonderland isn't everything the fairy tale says, and the Hatter in this tale is maybe madder than that of the original, especially once this tale is done.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. I've sort of poked at him on my comment fic post. Then orphan_project chose him for five prompts from my angst_bingo card. This is the first of those five prompts. Written for my second card for angst_bingo.
He wasn't always the way he is. He remembers before, remembers the stories told about the world on the other side of the mirror, about a place where people lived their lives in the light and didn't fear the noises in the dark…back when he was still a small lad following his father around.
To hear the stories told on the other side of the mirror, Wonderland was amazing, filled with talking animals and kings and queens, games that went on for days and tea parties. No one suspected that the animals were in fact beasts that took human form to lure unsuspecting prey to their tables, that the kings and queens were nocturnal blood drinkers that played games with hapless pawns who were also the prizes, or that the tea was…well, it was the nectar of life, now wasn't it?
His father served the red king, brought guests to his table, served the tea to his guests. Hatter followed him around and helped him clean up once the tea was over. It was the king himself that gave him his hat, for helping.
He wasn't supposed to taste it, but he was curious. He was all of thirteen the first time. He was helping and one of the guests had left a swallow behind in their cup. Hatter took it behind a tree and tasted it…tasted fire and sweetness, a rush of fear and desire.
He understood then the reason his father warned him, the reason he threatened him. Never taste the tea. But it was too late. He burned with craving for it. He plotted to get more. He pursued it relentlessly.
It was never meant for people like him, drove him crazy with desire, lust for the taste, for the fire, for the burn in his veins. And then he was caught at it, his lips red with it and dragged out before the king and his court, in front of his father, guilty before even a word was spoken.
"Sire, I beg mercy. He is but a foolish boy," his father pleaded.
"He is of an age to know better," the king countered. "And this is not his first taste I can see. He is already gripped of the madness. There is no recourse now but to give him over to it. He shall be given to my son until such time as it overtakes him and he is changed…or until he dies of the hunger."
Hatter hadn't known then how different things would be.
Little did he know, but he had already begun to change, with just the first taste he had altered himself, altered his life, his body…and with each taste after he moved closer to what he was to become and further from the boy he was.
They let him starve for the taste of it, kept him locked in a room for days and days, until he was clawing at the walls. That was when he came, the man who would show him a new life. The man who would teach him how to make oysters squirm, how the tea tasted when they were in pain, when they were afraid, when the lusted, when they wanted more than their bodies could contain.
He served his master then for years, allowed only a taste of the tea when the need drove him to begging for it. The rest of the time he would serve as his master's slave, his sex toy. Hatter learned fast the ways to bring him pleasure and garner some of his own. He learned which oysters his master would like best, which he could take straight, which he would prefer brewed down into tea.
And then came the day the madness didn't leave with the small taste of tea. The craving only grew, the need making him claw at his master until blood flowed, spilling from his arm over Hatter's face and it wasn't like tea…it was so very much more and he swallowed greedily, paying no attention to the pain that lanced through him and the fire that burned in his veins, to the maniacal laughter as his master encouraged him to drink more, drink faster, take his fill and become a god.
The fairy tale was over.
Title: The Fairy Tale Is Over
Charcater: Hatter
Rating: NC-17, more for theme than graphic
Word Count: 710
Summary: Wonderland isn't everything the fairy tale says, and the Hatter in this tale is maybe madder than that of the original, especially once this tale is done.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um....somewhere along the way, I picked up a vampire!Hatter in my Brain. I've sort of poked at him on my comment fic post. Then orphan_project chose him for five prompts from my angst_bingo card. This is the first of those five prompts. Written for my second card for angst_bingo.
He wasn't always the way he is. He remembers before, remembers the stories told about the world on the other side of the mirror, about a place where people lived their lives in the light and didn't fear the noises in the dark…back when he was still a small lad following his father around.
To hear the stories told on the other side of the mirror, Wonderland was amazing, filled with talking animals and kings and queens, games that went on for days and tea parties. No one suspected that the animals were in fact beasts that took human form to lure unsuspecting prey to their tables, that the kings and queens were nocturnal blood drinkers that played games with hapless pawns who were also the prizes, or that the tea was…well, it was the nectar of life, now wasn't it?
His father served the red king, brought guests to his table, served the tea to his guests. Hatter followed him around and helped him clean up once the tea was over. It was the king himself that gave him his hat, for helping.
He wasn't supposed to taste it, but he was curious. He was all of thirteen the first time. He was helping and one of the guests had left a swallow behind in their cup. Hatter took it behind a tree and tasted it…tasted fire and sweetness, a rush of fear and desire.
He understood then the reason his father warned him, the reason he threatened him. Never taste the tea. But it was too late. He burned with craving for it. He plotted to get more. He pursued it relentlessly.
It was never meant for people like him, drove him crazy with desire, lust for the taste, for the fire, for the burn in his veins. And then he was caught at it, his lips red with it and dragged out before the king and his court, in front of his father, guilty before even a word was spoken.
"Sire, I beg mercy. He is but a foolish boy," his father pleaded.
"He is of an age to know better," the king countered. "And this is not his first taste I can see. He is already gripped of the madness. There is no recourse now but to give him over to it. He shall be given to my son until such time as it overtakes him and he is changed…or until he dies of the hunger."
Hatter hadn't known then how different things would be.
Little did he know, but he had already begun to change, with just the first taste he had altered himself, altered his life, his body…and with each taste after he moved closer to what he was to become and further from the boy he was.
They let him starve for the taste of it, kept him locked in a room for days and days, until he was clawing at the walls. That was when he came, the man who would show him a new life. The man who would teach him how to make oysters squirm, how the tea tasted when they were in pain, when they were afraid, when the lusted, when they wanted more than their bodies could contain.
He served his master then for years, allowed only a taste of the tea when the need drove him to begging for it. The rest of the time he would serve as his master's slave, his sex toy. Hatter learned fast the ways to bring him pleasure and garner some of his own. He learned which oysters his master would like best, which he could take straight, which he would prefer brewed down into tea.
And then came the day the madness didn't leave with the small taste of tea. The craving only grew, the need making him claw at his master until blood flowed, spilling from his arm over Hatter's face and it wasn't like tea…it was so very much more and he swallowed greedily, paying no attention to the pain that lanced through him and the fire that burned in his veins, to the maniacal laughter as his master encouraged him to drink more, drink faster, take his fill and become a god.
The fairy tale was over.