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[surgikill]

[surgikill]

@surgeonwedded​

Martin and Jessica texting:

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[surgikill]

lord jesus that episode !!

brought his own child to the cabin to kill him but he lost the nerve !! that’s what i figured happened . still , to even bring your child there . to have that in your head . he’s a sick dude . and now in the present time , per his nightmares of last weeks ep , was it last week ?? he’s coming to terms with finding that he actually DOES love his boy ! in a weird twisted way . 

great song at the end i love it .

and god poor malcolm !! how are you raised by this perfect father and its just SMASH CUT to serial killer dad suddenly , like how do you reconcile that ?? crazy to even think about . 

and he was sculpting a bust of himself lmao !!!!! what in the ego !!!!! theres so much more but i’m at work LOL hopefully i can jump on again at some point . 

also poor jessica , lord she carries so so much guilt and its not her fault . 

[surgikill]

my little boomerang . 

[surgikill]

"One day I'll get free and on that day, I promise I'll come find you."

[surgikill]

@brightprofiler @clinikill

“Do you hear that? That is my son and he is coming for you!��� 

requested by: @unaduessa

[surgikill]

the way that martin started off as far back as he could be from gil in his prison room, though, like he knows the relationship that malcolm and gil have. martin literally created the whole from his actions and he hates it. malcolm fairly stated that martin has a god complex, as a surgeon and as the surgeon, he thinks that everything he touches turns to gold. 

but not the relationship between his son and his would be victim. no, he thinks this thing is a darkness. it’s why he steps closer, and closer, to gil. at first when he thinks mal’s listening, he doesn’t talk to gil. and then closer some more and it’s where’s my boy and making eye contact. and then it’s inches apart and it’s where’s my boy. it’s a power move, martin trying to take back control. 

as an audience, we know this isn’t the case, that martin is the bad guy and it shows that to us. martin always has his back to the light and in this episode, he’s facing the sun except just before gil walks in, when he was alone. he was in solitary, i’ll give him that, but he’s probably been out for maybe half an hour at least. when gil walks in, he’s at the line immediately, and  the sun is streaming through the room above martin and hitting gil. and yeah, martin steps it into, but then he has his fit. and sure, this is probably for plot reasoning, realistically, but he’s having a fit because his son has probably been killed because of him. his darkness will always follow him. 

and then the second scene, my god. it’s how else did you replace me and yeah you’ve got a real bond. martin is almost the most insecure person on the show. this is martin trying to take back control, again, because he’s resigned himself to the fact that malcolm is dead. blaming the fact that malcolm is dead because of gil, though, literally proves my point. ‘if you had have been a good boy and drank up that cup of tea that night’ goD even doped up he’s still terrifyingly morbid about killing people and making it seem easy

i don’t know, i just love this show and everything seems to mean something. 

[surgikill]

the hand rest upon shoulder as keen eyes watched the sleeping child . inside , chest was tight . had he loved the boy ? his wife ? his daughter ? for a moment brows furrow , confusion . yes , yes there was something that managed to burrow deep and settle upon heart . love ! the doctor nearly laughed , could you imagine ? love . lifting a hand it touched against her own , covered it and it was brought to his lips , kissing the back of it .  (  she was right , doctor martin whitly was an incredible father  )  

there was a smile to the response , no one else deserved jessica whitly . no one else could care for the woman as martin whitly could . beautiful and poised and the sharp wit ! god at times only she could make him laugh as no one else had . intelligence matching his own  (  which was a feat  )  and how enthralling it was to be able to fool his queen at times . how to keep such strength bound . 

money meant nothing  (  though it was an excellent perk wasn't it ?  )  however it was the fame , the attention that fed already massive ego . and the notoriety received after marrying jessica whose family owned half of new york city was gorged upon . how lucky the surgeon was ! in many many ways . love ? yes , yes he loved the attention . loved that he had claimed her hand in marriage , that she had taken his name  (  which meant nothing  )  .  and now she was his . and so were these children . boy and girl and wife . a normal family . 

standing up , there was the softest creak of bed before turning toward his wife , a smile .  ❛  you flatter me dear , and you know i love it .  ❛  a grin now , charming . taking her hand within his own he stepped out of the room ,  ❛  the car should be out front . are you ready to step into the limelight ? have i ever told you how i enjoy it when you're in the spotlight ? all those eyes on you , all of the attention on you . you shine , jess , you glow . it's incredible . do you enjoy it ? the speeches and the lavish parties ? you must , tell the truth .  ❛  the front door was opened and held for his bride .

[surgikill]

[surgikill]

@surgeonwedded

“if i can’t have you, nobody will”

[surgikill]

           the fbi may have dismissed him  ,  but there is still no worse act than those of what his father has committed  .  malcolm with a hand over his face keeps his gaze through his window as somehow magically his father would appear  .  he is too smart to appear in the city though  .  if he’s truly escaped he’d head for a secluded ,  hidden area  . malcolm’s mind is already beside itself trying to SOLVE that mystery of where he’d go  .  to what  ??  to meet him  ?? call for back up to CATCH HIM  ??  the profiler is too curious to let this end right yet  .

he did solve the case and no matter how BITTER he may be with the fbi he cannot fault them  .  he can … but not to the degree that his father holds .  that hatred for doing their jobs and catching KILLERS like him  .  what does he say though  ??  DR. WHITLY  speaks the truth  ,  MOSTLY  ,  society does not appreciate him but he does not see why they WOULD  . not as if his father is willing to allow him a word  ,  but for the moment malcolm is THANKFUL his father likes to hear himself talk  .  

his memories fail him with nothing more than flashes and fractions of time  .  he remembers the knife  ,  running in hand with it  ,  but not much else  .  still  just the talk of it forces anxiety to run full hilt through him  . his hand begins to shake and he tightly SQUEEZES it into his palm  . “I wouldn’t be so SURE  ,  “  the game IS dangerous but that has never stopped the profiler before  .  every moment that passes is one moment more he is missing out on ANSWERS  .  he has to play this game that his father hosts if he wants them  .

his blood runs COLD  with the last words  .  there’s a hostage  . TWO  .   coordinates will come and malcolm HAS to come alone  . a shaky breath is released through the receiver clearly stating malcolm KNOWS that he has no choice but to confirm his cooperation  .  “I understand  ,” yes . a dangerous game it is but also one that he’ll run head first into when LIVES are at stake .

a chuckle into the phone , the response was expected .  ❛  such a hero complex , john was right .  ❛  the words practically whispered in that husky voice .  ❛  you're so very brave , malcolm . running head long into danger . you know what i'm capable of my boy and yet there is no hesitation . there was an exhale of breath , exasperated it was heard across the phone line and there was silence for a long moment before the eldest whitly spoke .  ❛  i don't expect to be free for long , my boy . just tonight , i only need tonight .  ❛  cryptic , there was a smile in soft toned voiced . then a click . dial tone . moments later a text came through and it was literal gps coordinates . 

phone was set down and back was to the couch . there was a voice from behind the surgeon .  ❛  you think this is wise , martin ? i mean not to state the obvious but you're leading him right to you , to us .  ❛  john watkins spoke , calm . curious as to what exactly the plan was .  ❛  is this a gift for me ? hm ? you're gonna finish what we started those years ago ?  ❛  humor colored tone now . the scar embedded into his side began to burn , ache .  (  oh malcolm what a bad boy you were  )  

the surgeon offered a stolen glance over shoulder toward the former protege .  ❛  mm well , we'll see when he gets here won't we john ?  ❛  eyes shone with a forced muted anger . was it true ? was the attack on malcolm true by the junkyard killer ? still , there was that smile . predatory in nature , reserved for each previous victim . 

the woods were silent , moon half full allowed for some light but not much . instead when there was motion around the perimeter of said cabin several flood lights were activated as the young whitly came forward . door opened and beyond it was martin whitly , arms extended outward , offering a joyous grin ,  ❛  malcolm , my boy !  ❛  and finally ! finally they were able to hug . from behind , in the shadow the surgeon did john watkins stand feet apart arms folded across chest ,  ❛  welcome home brother .  ❛  a smile slick and smarmy .

@brightprofiler​

[surgikill]

the same SOUL split in TWO

[surgikill]

this is the reason that no one can describe this being because it is like nothingness , indescribable  /  hanns heinz ewers  /  -  barren was heart and soul , how could it not be ? how could martin whitly claim to care for anything when it was so easy to torture another human being . weight shifted from one foot to another , chin lifted though keen eyes avert . mind reeling with several answers but were any of them the truth ? there was a chuckle awkward and low .  ❛  my boy i ..  ❛  brow had furrowed , carefully trying to tiptoe around the landmines placed so many years ago . 

❛  you're trusting a serial killer over your own father ?  ❛  gaze shifts finally , back up toward the other .  ❛  wait don't answer that .  ❛  a quick clear of his throat .  ❛  listen .. it was so long ago , who can remember what was said or not ?  ❛  a step closer , though hands were now bound with cuffs unlike the last time . even though the leash was now taut .  ❛  what is important malcolm is that you came home with me . i tucked you into bed that night and read you a story and you were safe .  ❛  relative term . tone had softened , that night so many years ago was so clear in mind , the sights smells everything touched everything destroyed blood it was all so easily remembered . but not spoken of . 

❛  john watkins is sick , a jealous soul . what he needs is some serious help . terrible . and what was said during the unfortunate uh ..  ❛  eyes shift away briefly once more , searching for a less terrible word than kidnapping / torture scenario .  ❛  .. incident ..  ❛  gaze lifts , direct . steely .  ❛  was not true . i could never kill my own son ! and you've alive aren't you ! hm ? so that's proof ! come now , i've never hurt you , i would never .. never hurt you malcolm you're my son . what kind of father would i be if anything happened to my favorite boy ?  ❛  that smile once more . flattering and charismatic and unholy , blurring the line of all three .

@brightprofiler​ .

[surgikill]

happiness is the key to success if you love what you are doing you will be successful / albert schweitzer / -  in the prime of his life , right now balancing both a normal life as husband and teetering on the edge of insanity as the surgeon . it was a thrill , as one would say . it was glorious and right now , in this moment the high felt after another kill was euphoric . everything was coming together , family life and other . 

it was early enough in the evening , as bad as it had gone for jessica it was the opposite for the surgeon . an electric giddiness still coursed through veins as the door was open and jacket removed . how thrilled would his wife be ! dutiful husband returning home early , perhaps to take her out for a lavish dinner . 

lights had been dimmed and silence ensued . wearing the mask of martin whitly the man moved silently , effortlessly through the house toward the living room .

❛  nothing good on television ?  ❛  the man quipped cheerfully as he stood in the archway of the room . a grin worn before entering , fingertips slide from one of her shoulders to another as he moved along the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head . his queen .

@surgikill​

It was one hell of a day. 

The person Jessica relied on greatly in terms of the big fundraiser she was working on lately called and said he had to decline. Almost in the last minute. Now she had to do everything on her own. Not that she wouldn’t succeed in it… But the unwanted headache was added, nevertheless.

Martin was working late, so, apparently, she would have to spend the evening all alone. And go to bed alone, too. 

Jessica knew that his work was important, yes. But she had the courage to admit - to herself, of course - that she was selfish enough to want to have him by her side any time she needed it. And she did need him. 

And, as a cherry on top of this cake of misfortunes, Jessica had a quarrel with her mother. A big, real deal, life-and-death fight about her life choices. 

No matter how much of a good mother’s girl Jessica played, she was stubborn and rebellious enough to not always do as Mrs. Milton would want. 

Especially, after her marriage, as Jessica officially became Jessica Whitly, an independent person. 

To say that her mother wasn’t pleased  would be an understatement.

So, considering the all listed above, no wonder that the evening of this long and stressful day met Jessica drinking in a solitude of their dimly lit living room.

[surgikill]

by failing to prepare , you are preparing to fail  / benjamin franklin  /  -  information had been gorged upon since arriving at this particular facility . everything had been noticed , oh routine was the downfall of man was it not ? mister crusoe would end his shift at exactly eleven at night , only to be relived by mister jenkins at eleven oh one at night . a check of the facility was made and then silence ensued for sixteen minutes . a bathroom break it was later found out . after that it was simply a matter of timing and gathering a certain type of ammo as it were . benzodiazepines . due to the situation  (  malcolm was stolen had to get him back  )  they were feeding those specific pills to the surgeon and said pills had not been taken but given out to a few well placed guards . 

that bothersome  (  thief !!  )  lieutenant arroyo trying to steal his family , ruin the dynamic . disgusting . that map drawn led to nothing , the surgeon knowing full well where his boy was taken . home . of course john watkins the junkyard killer of all things  (  laughable name  )  would have dragged the hapless former fbi agent down into the depths of where it all began . and that was where martin whitly was headed . home . 

chatty thing this woman was , probably for the best as was the good doctor . eyes dart about , movements slow , deliberate . no one had been harmed during the escape attempt and no one would be , unless hand was forced .  ❛  dear , i understand you're trying to rile me but i really should be concentrating here . my finger might slip .  ❛  words whispered along the shell of her ear .  the muzzle of the gun bit harder against spine .  ❛  normally i don't enjoy using these things , i'm more of a hands on type of guy .  ❛  there was a crazed smile , it shone in his raspy voice .  ❛  oh see i'm not planning on getting away , just to the first subway station . you see i have to go home , check on my family . been a while since i've seen them .  ❛  voice was strained briefly . worry was there , in his heart . concern perhaps but also a venomous , vicious need to protect what was his . his family ! his boy !  ❛  so i'd appreciate it , if you cooperate just for a little while . hm ? won't be too long . i mean if you'd like , you can come visit with me . there's an unwanted presence there that i'd like to remove myself .  ❛  teeth bare for a brief moment . feral .

╰ * ramsay bolton prompts. “remember what you are, and what you’re not.“   ╱   @surgikill alias martin whitley.

no matter how hard one tried to convince the other; no one was despotic, everyone was in the possession of moral to some point and perhaps they didn’t match everyone’s ethics but no matter how foolish they sounded, no matter how insignificant they seemed to appear, they were valid nonetheless. and so was keen’s rule not to come to anyones aid without some benefis for herself. whitley had nothing she might were to be in need of. except her own life, perhaps. but unlike him, killing people was her job, she got disbursements for it. and what could he buy with the recognition he got for his crimes? nothing more than trembling bones within the ordinary; which she was far from to resemble. and it was about time that he realised that.

remember what you are.

words are supposed to sting, and yet all they leave behind is a bitter aftertaste on own tongues. never had she regarded herself to be in treacery about her own positions, and yet here they were. there was one thing though, that agnes had to allow admittance to. he was awfully good at manipulation. there was nothing else but that, which would have make her hand him her own glock, that said glock that almost penetrated her spine now. “yeah, i am a serial killer and not innocent, i got it, you said that like eight times in a row.” ere volatile ganders had been taken off the silent grey halls beneath the facility, it manifested. it was like a tunnel vision. weren’t it for her, said tunnels would have been flooded with the sound of the alert but after all, she wasn’t that pure blooded either. a groan resounded, it echoed within halls and made her, even though if only temporary, glance over her shoulder, right into the visage of his. “what you don’t get is that unlike you, i have immunity. you may be able to use me to get out of here but then what…?” he had no idea, had he? orbs dart back on the concrete beneath boots, a profound snicker escaped the gorge of hers, almost as if ironic. what came next was anything but a threat but more of a promise unveiled. “you’ll never make it past that fence, old man, remember that.” 

[surgikill]

@mtchstck

The names Practice