Alternate Adam - Tumblr Posts
Oopsie Daisy! You accidentally copied your adopted fathers face, and he's not very happy to see that!
“ADAM WHO IS THAT?!”
i had a dream where alex dropped a new tmc video titled "interrogation" and it was exactly that. it was thatcher interrogating adam post-catalyst and i distinctly remember it was tense on both sides
Is there ever a heart-to-heart between Adam and Thatcher about that event that occurred (referring to Adam mimicking Thatcher's appearance)?
Hm, I think if I did have an aftermath idea,
Thatcher tried to talk after both had a moment to calm down but Adams brushing off any conversation. So Thatcher ends up giving up, you can't talk to someone who won't open up. But then its like... festering. In my mind that's where the lying comic comes in, Adam making the assumption that Thatcher is lying that he's not afraid of Adam, because Adams seen Thatcher scared by his actions.
canonical post catalyst event
some nice despairduo maybe adam and thatcher hugging?? (lmao i think it'd be rllyy funny & awkward since adam's arms are really long and the height difference) i need some fluff!!!
Adam's trying to do something nice but it doesn't help theyre both awkward
Doodle request adam thatcher evelin and sarah post mandela catalyst
A... happy reunion?
INTRUDER AND ADAM FATHER AND SON ( CANON AU )
like uhh adams upset at what he's become but then intruder is just there reassuring him while hugging him
His sweet boy
All of his humanity drained into a murky puddle
A Dark And Stormy Night
tw for minor body horror
it's a dark and stormy night.
to be entirely honest, it's cliche. it knows it's cliche, but it's all it can think, looking out the window. raindrops patter against its face and it winces, closing its eyes a little.
the already black sky is completely logged with clouds, lightning illuminating the darkness in spite of stars. it feels something uncomfortable shift in its ribs and grimaces, altering its position in the passenger seat to make up for it.
he glances over at it, looks away again. it doesn't blame him, imagines how it must look now. it notes quietly he doesn't have a rearview mirror or any on either side of the car- that's stupid, and dangerous, but it would also be stupid and dangerous to have them.
he doesn't tell it to roll the window up, but it does after a moment anyways. guilt drags heavy on its bones and skin, and the last thing it wants is to get the inside of his car wet.
it opens its mouth, finds its tongue and teeth aren't in the right positions, and closes it again. if it talks, it'll come out wrong. it doesn't want to make him any more uneasy than it already has.
"you alright over there, kid?" he doesn't take his eyes off the road when he finally breaks the sound of tires on wet asphalt, rain on the metal roof of the vehicle. "I mean, as alright as the circumstances can allow, obviously."
the engine hums in both their bones. bones that click into place. tendons that quietly shift under skin. minds that slowly meld into one. the catalyst was the spark. it's only a matter of time now before it all goes up in a burning inferno of hell.
why did you help me.
it puts a hand over its mouth, but that doesn't stop the sound, if you could even call it that. it isn't... physical, like vibrations from vocal chords. it's something tinged with static, something that curls around the edges of his already-curdling psyche. he winces, and it feels more guilty.
"I don't know," Thatcher admits at length, tapping out an uneasy rhythm on the steering wheel. "you're a kid. you deserve better than that."
it swallows thickly, bleach still burning the nerves behind its eyes. he'd expected it to kill him, but instead it just ate away at all the soft tissue until there was nothing human left but the murky red puddle at its feet. that's why it's an it, not a he.
I'm a monster.
Thatcher lets out a weak chuckle that gives way to a wet-sounding cough. "aren't we all?"
you have no idea how true that is about to be. it hisses and bangs a fist on the center console, startled into speaking out loud. the words are distorted and feel wrong and don't sound like a voice so much as a machine trying to replicate one, but at least they're real. "sh-shit. I didn't mean to-"
"I get it. I get it, it's okay." he doesn't understand what it just said, but he also does, in a way. he can feel it burrowing into the back of his mind, too. he's had MAD for a long time now. "listen. I've been living with that kind of shit for years now. you're not trying to hurt anyone, and as long as you aren't, nothing you say will affect me. alright?"
it nods weakly, feeling sick. half-melted vocal chords strain to get words out. "I'm sorry."
"don't be. it's not your fault."
but it is. I'm the catalyst. everyone is fucked over and it is very much my fault.
Thatcher glares over at it, and it flinches back. he immediately pulls back, mutters an apology of his own. "don't say things like that. if anyone's to blame, it's me. there are at least four people dead because of things I didn't do to protect them. you never asked for any of this, it was all laid out for you before you were even- born, or whatever. but I had it coming."
it closes its eyes again. I want my mommy.
he pauses, processing that. after a minute, he gives up. there's not much to say.
"we'll be back at my place soon. just gotta hold on until then, okay?"
"...okay."
it turns its eyes back outside. it's a dark and stormy night.
I just got a new artbook!
I beg thee
can we have Thatcher not being depressed for once
like give him some mental stability
or a fucking hug
Make Adam give him a hug
I don’t think he knows how to hug
DESPAIRDUO ANGST!? #1
Thatcher should've expected this, especially from an alternate. Still, his mind was conflicted with mixed thoughts, confusion and fear. He stumbled backwards clumsily; his heart pounded heavier each second. His only support was the cold, cracked wall behind him. He could hear the pleads and apologies directed towards him but his eyes watered at the sight of the alternate whose face formed a triggering memory.
It was Adam. Or, was Adam. His once short, curly hair was longer, straighter and blond with brown roots and his paper-white skin had turned caucasion. His unhuman, misshaped eyes which once had black scleras and shining, white irises had changed into a naturally downturned shape with regular scleras and soft green irises. the alternate's voice had deepened drastically and continued his panicked apologies to Thatcher. Still, Thatcher couldn't process the boy's words of remorse when all he could hear was his own voice mimicked back to him. Adam was still unnaturally tall and skinny, but his entire face had changed. Leaving an uncanny mockery of Thatcher's own appearance staring back at him. Everything of Adam was gone.
It was just like the Night in September, back in 1992.
DESPAIRDUO HURT/COMFORT!?!?
Thatcher, stood outside leaning against the cold, rough brick wall of the MCPD. Beside him, Adam sat down idly on the floor, staring up at the bleak, gloomy night sky. It had been tough for both of them after all the shit that went down back at Adam's place. Adam was still scarred, they both knew that. His life had been flipped upside down, the guilt of his past wrongful actions crushed his self-worth, and his new unwelcome body had completely shut him down. He would rarely speak, and his monotone words would only rasp vague responses towards Thatcher's questions.
Thatcher knew how it felt to get his identity snatched away from him, to be replaced and pushed away from his friends. But it wasn't the same for Adam. Adam is the replacement, Adam was the one who pushed his friends away. He had no control over it. It was all wrong, but it was never truly him. Adam was stupid and blind, always under the influence of alternates. Yet over the last three days, Thatcher yearned for Adam to regain his self-worth, to love himself, to see how he's not a sadistic alternate and how he's much more than just a cog in the machine.
The demons belittled him, they mocked his parental care and love for a criminal that was of the same species which had murdered his best friends in cold blood and single-handedly destroyed the population of Mandela County.
Calmly, Thatcher gazed up at the sky, taking comfort from the cigarette that was in between his fingers. There was no sound. No cars, birds or people. no anything that made a place lively. He continued smoking, and the smell of tobacco filled the cold air. It stayed silent for a few minutes.
"Give me one."
"Huh?" He quickly looked down to his left in surprise.
"Please."
"Adam...?" He didn't expect that. At least not so soon. Adam had never outright demanded for something. Especially something like a cigarette. He'd isolated himself and always felt ashamed whenever Thatcher made an attempt to talk to him. As if he himself was nothing but a burden.
This excited Thatcher even more. Although it was a surprising request, it was an opportunity to finally connect with Adam.
"You... You want a cigarette...?"
"Yes." Adam looked up at him. his face was blank and serious as always. Except his eyes had hints of lingering desperation. As if he needed this badly. Thatcher was weak. He couldn't say no, especially to Adam.
"Alright, kid." He reluctantly handed over a cigarette. Despite his eagerness before, he almost regretted saying yes. He knew the dangers of smoking and Adam's body seemed fragile, especially internally. The night when all his bones broke and snapped was burned in his brain. It trapped his mind from sleeping every night, including today. His desperate attempt of setting all of Adam's bones back in place and wrapping it up in very bare cloth only healed him a bit, that was something Thatcher felt slightly felt proud of. Yet, that entire interaction haunted him, every single moment during the day and the night.
"But, why?" He couldn't help himself, if he wanted to understand Adam, he'd need to make the most of every interaction between them.
Curiously, he waited for his answer. The night grew colder and the silence drew out. Adam's blinding white irises stared at him thoughtfully. Awkwardly, Thatcher shifted uncomfortably and his gaze dropped a few times before quickly reciprocating his eye contact. He couldn't mess this up, not now. It was unbearably silent, but he knew he had to stay patient. And so he did.
Finally, Adam blinked out of his trance and looked down.
"I want..." He sighed sadly.
"...to feel... Again." He tensed up and folded in on himself with his long arms wrapped around his legs and his head buried in his naked chest. He shuddered miserably and went stiff. The cigarette was still in his hand, but it was crushed from the pressure of his fingers.
Thatcher's heart sank. He felt so much determination for him. He knew how he felt. For the past 17 years, his only shred of hope was Dave, but nothing felt complete. He never felt whole.
"Oh kid..." He muttered out of sympathy, he reached out for him but immediately retreated his hand. He didn't want to disturb him but he wanted to comfort him so badly.
Instead, he slowly crouched in front of him.
"What do you feel like right now?" He asked gently, keeping his voice low.
"Empty, as if... I'm starving... But not of hunger." He quietly said, still crouched in his stiff, painful position. He never looked up, but Thatcher still tried.
"Y'know, drugs isn't the way to feel better," "and I know it's quite hypocritical of me to say that, but don't take me as an example." His words were gentle and calm. Thatcher shifted into a more comfortable cross-legged position, facing Adam.
"I-I'm not trying to lecture you, kid. But, I... am here for you." Adam's entire body slightly jumped from that in surprise. It was a good sign. Thatcher continued.
"I know that things... Haven't been the best for us, but, I care for you. I... am not scared of you, not at all, kid." Adam shivered and trembled, Thatcher could hear the poor boy catching his breath.
"Stop it." He pleaded, voice breaking. Thatcher reached his hand out, softly patting his hair.
"Listen, you've had your identity ripped apart from you. I know how that feels."
"Shut up."
"And-"
"Shut UP." Adam's voice distorted even more at that last word, breaking and trembling out of anger. Thatcher scooted closer and began to soothingly ruffle his hair. Thatcher continued when he felt Adam relax from it.
"You've been wronged, Adam, by THEM. You're also a victim, no matter what you think."
"NO! I am THEM. I wronged OTHERS." He sobbed, his head finally turned up at Thatcher. Half his face was still covered by his lanky legs but his eyes and nose bridge was visible.
He could do this, he was finally making progress. His heart ached for the poor, weeping alternate in front of him.
"Adam..." He slowly moved his hand down to wipe his tears. Adam flinched suddenly, his eyes widened in shocked.
"Lieutenant, why?" He asked shakily.
"Why are you doing this... For ME?" He still cried continuously
"Because you deserve it, kid. No one deserves to go through what you're living right now. You have regrets, I know. So do I, but you can resolve them. I know you can." Now Adam was fully facing him, his entire body was relaxed and Thatcher continued to rub his face gently.
"You are so much more than what those alternates say you are. You... are much more human than me." "I-I have ruined lives myself," He thought of Ruth. He thought of the Heathcliffs. He thought of every single phone call that he never went and helped.
Adam stared at him in awe. The tears stopped.
"And I will NOT fail you too, kid." He declared confidently. His heart pounded hard and he locked eyes with Adam, his gaze never wavered.
For a moment, it was silent. Thatcher slowly put his hand down next to him. His pulse raced quicker, had he made a mistake?
Suddenly, Adam lunged at him, all muscles tense. Thatcher gasped and froze, his heart skipped a beat. Why? He's different, he's not a normal alternate!
Unexpectedly, Thatcher felt two boney, long arms wrapped around his torso and his vision was blocked by a flat, thin-skinned chest. He felt a surprisingly light weight on his legs.
"Kid...?"
"Thank you...So much, lieutenant..." Adam mumbled, if it weren't for how close they were he probably wouldn't have heard it. Thatcher's heart bloomed inside, and he gladly hugged him, feeling his cold, almost-watery back and his slightly protruding spine.
Adam eased up in his arms, carefully resting his pointy chin on top of Thatcher's head. Thatcher exhaled in relief and enjoyed the heartfelt moment.
The night continued its gloom above their heads but they weren't afraid, not anymore. Thatcher reflected back on the nightmarish encounter back at Adam's home. Ever since that, he felt even more despair whirling in his heart. But now, he felt like his youthful self back in the 1990s, full of hope and determination.
Everything had changed again, but not for the worst. Now, Thatcher finally had a goal, to not fail his kid and to protect him forever in this merciless world. He'd no idea where these overprotective, parental feelings came from, but, he knew he always wanted a kid.
Adam's grip tightened on him and his breathing became even. Thatcher smiled genuinely and reached his arm out full-length to pat Adam's head.
"Come on, kid," He softly whispered. "Time for bed."
freckled baby
