#i hope she kills martin sheen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

A Failed Betrothal /Betrothal AU: Take Two

So here is the second part of the betrothal AU that I decided to name "A Failed Betrothal. This takes place before Part 1 which in hindsight should have been done first. Part 2 got too long so I cut it and started Part 3. I have no idea and nothing planned on how long this will go. Hope you enjoy ❤.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)

PART 2

Marinette also wasn't having a good day or a good week.

Lila Rossi had been up to her usual tricks. You know, spewing lies from her mouth. How she met these awesome celebrities during this trip and they worship the ground she walks on for her amazing and humbling help. There were stories of these charities, trips and galas that she had been to or was invited to. She has problems with her wrists and can't do simple stuff like carry her own bag or do her homework. She has tinnitus in her ears so she needs to sit in the front where the only seat available would be next to Adrien.

And for the finale.

The desert after feeding the class a banquet of lies.

"Mari...nette..has been bullying me, she...told..me not to tell anyone..*sobs*..that she would kill me if I did.."

Lila dramatically gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Turning on the waterworks for a more dramatic effect. They all ate it up, jumping on the ‘let’s hate Marinette, a bad person’ train.

"She is going to kill me now and I am so scared." That snake managed to snuck an evil smirk past her glaring, oblivious classmates.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marinette, at this point of her life, had frankly given up caring for them due to the class's lack of brain cells and Agreste's spineless 'High Road' Approach.

For Kwami's sake, she went through a brutal torture that was training in some jungle temple in Asia before Sabine Cheng, former mercenary/assassin, kidnapped her (Little Marinette took a risk. She ran away and followed her around until Sabine begrudgingly accepted that she was now the 6- year-old girl's mother because screw it, Tom said he wanted children.) to raise/train as her own while she settled down with a baker whose mother may or may not have ties with the Mafia and other illegal activities.

(Mother-daughter bonding days became much more fun once she had Guardianship of the Miraculous. Sabine was ,at first, furious at Master Fu for dumping everything on the girl and losing his memories before swearing to help protect the jewels. Adopted or not, Marinette is her daughter and no one should let a child, even one with training, fight a war. A good thing to come out of her reveal was that her mother was a great tiger to have as back-up. But now, her training regime had become harder and challenging.)

The point was that Lila Rossi would be dead and body missing since that first time she threatened Marinette in the bathroom. The Italian was in perfect health despite what she claims otherwise, because Marinette didn’t want to be the person she was raised to be and also she didn’t want to disappoint Tikki, she was fond of the little red kwami. But sometimes, she just wanted to give into the urge to kill.

She had met and dealt with unsavory characters of all types and she can safely say that Lila Rossi was a manipulator that thrives on attention and like a parasite, latches herself onto the fame of others. None of the unsavory people she had met get under her skin like Rossi had.

Marinette had enough self-preservation to drop the nice girl act and sometimes let the dragon underneath to surface. She stopped doing last-minute favors and giving away free stuff which Lila uses to her full advantage to further destroy her relationships with her ‘friends’. It was better than sticking her neck out for classmates that were no longer worth her time. Attempts to expose Lila had backfired due to the denial they are in, believing the liar to be a sweet, nice girl living the high life.

Adrien with his rose-tinted glasses firmly stuck to his eyes was not happy at all with her decision. That may also have to do where she suggested he shove his advice after he tried to reason her to take the high road for defending herself for the umpteenth time. She felt like the biggest idiot to ever have a crush on him. Every time, Rossi blames Marinette for a problem, he would shoot disappointed looks in her direction.

Alya being Lila's biggest guard dog tore into Marinette for her newfound 'bad' behaviour. The rest of Lila's supporters backed her up with "How could you do that to Lila","I can't believe you changed." Nearly all her so-call friends had turned their backs and lost all common sense to the Italian's manipulations.

(Alya was supposed to be her best friend, aren’t you supposed to listen to your ‘bestie’ over a complete stranger)

The designer took it all with a bored expression on her face, used to the lecturing which was a waste of time because her behavior isn't going to change, no matter what, Lie-la will keep up the act of being the bully's (*cough*Marinette*cough*) victim.

Her heart that cracks the tiniest bit at the accusations. A small part of her, she admits, is hurt that they think so low of her.Was she really that worthless to them? All those times and efforts helping them out on last-minute favors and giving them free treats. Were they not enough to earn their friendship? Their trust or at the very least, a benefit of doubt?

The only ones who didn’t join the berating to 'correct' the raven-haired girl’s attitude were Chloe (who had proven herself to have changed after the miracle queen incident and Lila stole the spotlight and Sabrina. There were a lot of apologizes, gifts and ‘making up to do’) Alix (she came to her senses when the supposed bullying started) and Nathaniel (Lila blatantly claimed to be the artist for the Ladybug comic to his face).

“Girl, Marinette, are you even listening to me?”Alya demanded.

“Maybe. Did you say anything that doesn’t have to do with Lila or how I did her wrong or how I am no longer the person you knew?”

Marinette knew that being sarcastic would backfire but nothing she does or says will change what they think of her. One word from Lila and they will turn back on her. As much as she hates to admit it, Lila’s threat has fallen through and she was alone. Mostly.

She still had Chloe, Nathaniel, Alix, Luka and Kagami as friends. The trust-worthy and loyal kind.

“Girl,” Alya says in a disappointed tone, shaking her head,“when I look at you, I don’t see that girl who stood up to Chloe the bully-”, Chloe snorted, she had changed but they were too blind and prejudiced against her to notice her efforts, “-Picking on Lila, threatening and harassing her. This isn’t you and you know it. Just get over your jealousy on Lila being close to Adrien and apologize to her.”

If Alya had talked to her in the past 12 months other than demanding things that took away her time or anything relating to Lila, she would know that her infatuation had turned into annoyance.

Marinette sighed, too tired of this routine, tired of trying to knock heads so the brain cells can work again. Apologizing would mean that Lila had won. She was petty and stubborn enough to allow that to happen. Lila said she will take the class and Adrien. Fine, she can have them but Marinette Dupain-Cheng will not admit defeat. Bigger men had fallen to the ravenette for lesser offences. A year has passed since the expulsion and the class still hasn't regained common senses, so they can deal with the consequences after the inevitable downfall of Lila and Marinette will be there to see them lay in the grave they dug.

Steeling herself for the pain that will come with the execution of her plan,

“What if I don’t. I won’t apologize to her because I have not done anything to her or even interacted with her. If I apologize, it would be insincere and a lie. And I hate liars.” The former assassin said evenly.

“Lila is not a liar. I don’t know why you are like this.” Alya said, frustrated.

Marinette knew there would be a small chance of an akuma with Gabriel Agreste having an important meeting to attend on this day that would last for the next hour. This was the small window of opportunity to start the plan and also further confirm the identity of Hawkmoth. Killing two birds with one stone.

“Alya, this has always been me, you just never took the time to get to really know the real me.”, she replied, the last part with an icy tone.

“Well-... I- ..You-, fine, then if you can’t say those simple three words, we can’t be friends. I clearly don’t know what a selfish bitch you are. God, I can’t believe I wanted to be best friends with you. You are now replaced by Lila because unlike you, she is genuinely nice and selfless.” Alya declared. The rest of Lila’s supporters murmured in agreement.

Phase 1, complete. Lure the Lie-la into a false sense of security by making her think she won.

Marinette tried not to show how hurt she was, to be replaced by the scheming bitch. But at the same time she felt relieved, she no longer had to walk on eggshells in fear of losing the friendships of people she used to care about. It felt final as she maintained her stoic expression, hoping they didn't notice the glassy sheen her eyes had.

“Then, it is official. We are no longer friends.”

They haven’t been friends for a long time.

Mme. Bustier finally walked into the classroom to start the afternoon classes, signalling the end of the conversation. After class, Marinette resolves to inform them that she was resigning as class president which she was sure the class will be glad for. She was right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ladybug was, as the Americans say, pissed at Hawkmoth which was nothing new. He had sent out another akuma just as Marinette was back home and trying to relax after the stressful day. The akuma was not any of her ex-friends which she wasn’t sure to be thankful for or not.

Louise Martin was a boy about Luka’s age and mad at his friends who had blamed their fifth loss-in-a-row on him despite the fact that it was his skills that were getting them any progress. They were playing one of those recently released 5V5 skills and strategy battle games. (League of Legends or Mobile Legends. Take your pick, I am going with the latter)

He was akumatized into Hayakuma as proof of Hawkmoth’s lack of creativity. Hayakuma was a bleached out version of Louise’s chosen hero avatar, Hayabusa whose outfit was basically what the media portrays ninjas to look like with some samurai aspects.

Unfortunately, he also had the hero’s ultimate special powers which were making four shadow copies of himself and being able to switch positions with them. Thanks to Rattlesnake’s Second Chance, they know that he can only make a switch once every two minute. Hayakuma also wields a sword, showing off his skills.

Just lovely.

Hydra and Ladybug were the only ones able to counter his attacks with Hydra’s sword and Ladybug’s summoned one. (Let’s go with that headcanon(?)/trope that she can summon weapons for plot convenience and the others can too but just don’t have enough practise yet.)

The others managed to dodge and shield themselves from Hayakuma’s really sharp sword.

The shadows themselves were annoying as they would distract or hinder the miraculous users by grabbing them by their shadows and making them unable to move. Until Bunnix had the brilliant idea of shadow boxing which gave the heroes gain more even ground.

With how strong and handful the akuma was, it was code ‘all hands on deck’. Ladybug, Stinger, Rattlesnake, Hydra, Bunnix, Trickster. Well, nearly every hand. Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was busy with the bakery. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen or very late which had been the norm for the last year ever since Ladybug wanted to form a new miraculous team consisting of permanent heroes.

(He didn’t show up for the first few months because the first permanent member was Ladybug’s mother who did not like his attitude towards her daughter. He ran away with his tail between his legs once he found out how she was related to Ladybug. His face when he realized it, was something Marinette will cherish forever)

At least when Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was around, he would not dare act out of line. When she is gone however, he is back to his old ways.

After saving one of Louise’s teammates from Hayakuma’s sword, they gathered the rest of the team and hid them someplace safe. Using Trickster’s illusions to trick all the shadows and the original to one place, the heroes were going to surround and ambush them and get the akumatized item. The plan would have been a success if it weren’t for Chat Noir hugging Ladybug from behind, making her miss her cue.

“Hey~ Bugaboo~ Did you miss me~? Your Chaton~?”

Thwack! Smack!

Chat Noir was on the rooftop, groaning pitifully in pain. Especially his crotch area. Ladybug glared at him and looked to the ambush point to see the illusions had disappeared and everyone else gone from their hiding place.

She sighed and turned on the comms, (Thank you, kwamis)

“Sting, did you venomed the akuma?”

“No, he escaped before I could. What happened, LB?”

“A certain cat got me delayed. What’s the status update?”

“Hydra is holding him off and Bunnix found that an umbrella is a good substitute for a sword. The rest of us are keeping track of the shadows. They split up but none of them are getting near where we hid the targets.”

“Where are you? I will meet you later with back-up.”

“Near Notre Dame and tell Mama Tigress I said hi.”

“Tell her yourself.”

She looked down at Chat No-, no he is not worthy of being a hero anymore with the amount of times he had derailed and hijacked the plans to defeat the akumas just so he can ‘earn’ Ladybug’s heart.

She looked down at Adrien Agreste, who was sitting and sulking like a child that was unfairly punished. (Once she got over her crush and started looking at the right things that she managed to piece together her ‘partner’s’ identity by accident. Tikki’s confirmation sealed the deal.)

“Chat Noir, this partnership of ours,” she said, gesturing to the two of them, “ is going to change tonight. Meet me at the ‘spot’ at 11 sharp. Now, go home.”

He left with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes at her words. She felt a little bad about the subtle manipulation but with the way things were now, it can’t go on. He was hindering more than helping and the people of Paris that weren’t shipping ‘Ladynoir’ saw that.

As she jumped towards Notre Dame, she called the bakery with her yoyo.

“Mama, are you free now? I need a little help with the akuma and can you bring the horse miraculous.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chat Noir waited excitedly at what they both dubbed at their ‘spot’, in the good old days when it was just the two of them. Maybe Ladybug was finally open to the idea of dating. Or maybe she must have seen what a great hero he is and was going to get rid of the team. Or realized that having her mother on her team was a bad idea. Parents are the worst and they both can be two rebellious teenagers in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. So romantic~.

He was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t hear his lady land.

“Chat Noir.” Startled, he nearly fell off the roof. No, don’t make a fool of yourself in front of Ladybug.

“Yes, Bugaboo.” Hoping she didn’t know that he was very distracted. His attention will always be hers 100%.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo. Tikki wants to talk to Plagg about Kwami stuff. So you go over and hide behind that chimney. Then, we can talk about why I told you to be here.” Adrien frowned and then smiled. His lady must be very embarrassed about her mistake that must be why she is taking her time. He tried listening to what they were saying but the kwamis were talking in their special Guardian Language. Was it him or did Tikki’s voice sound more like his lady’s voice?

Whizz!

Adrien was tied up with Ladybug’s yoyo. “M’Lady? Bugaboo!? LADYBUG! WHAT IS GOING ON?!! PLAGG-”

Ladybug cut in, “Adrien Agreste, you have been slack in your hero duty and choosing your own feelings over supporting your partner, me, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous and current Grand Guardian, in the efforts to defeat the enemy of Paris, Hawkmoth. Due to those reasons, you are no longer worthy to be the Holder of the Black Cat Miraculous” in one swift motion, she took the ring off his finger, “As such you are hereby revoked of Plagg’s Ring.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I LOVE YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME BACK. WE ARE SOULMATES, WE ARE MEANT TO BE-”

Adrien went slack at Lady Tigress’s pinch on his pressure point.

“I don’t what you ever saw in the boy.”

“I don’t know either. I think I dodged a bullet here. Can you carry him back to his home? I think I have dealt with enough of him tonight.” Ladybug muttered, as she erased Adrien’s memories of being Chat Noir.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Part 3)

#maridami #maribat #damian x marinette #mlb x dc #Betrothal AU: Take 2 #A Failed Betrothal #sorry. No Damian this chapter #there is salt #Alya salt #Adrien Salt #Lila salt #class salt #I don't know if it is mild or not #Marinette is an assassin

648 notes · View notes

jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years

Text

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below.

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant.

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry.

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode.

3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified.

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief.

3:30 - OMG. “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it.

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT.

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true.

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot.

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit. hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining.

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great).

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius. I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed.

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition.

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little.

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining.

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa.

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general.

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect.

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk.

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating.

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it.

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial.

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!?

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm.

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season?

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between.

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder).

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues.

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.” Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often.

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore. DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT.

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here.

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might.

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay.

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason.

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :(

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode.

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers.

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil.

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this.

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL.

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality.

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame.

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast.

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured. Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him. <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis.

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people.

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card.

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour.

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day.

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence.

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting.

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back.

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood.

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :(

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here.

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son).

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons.

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator.

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT.

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die.

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING.

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her.

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all.

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it.

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :(

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene.

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape.

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds.

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect.

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie.

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?!

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces.

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral.

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth.

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us.

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity.

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out.

120 notes · View notes

fuckyeahprodigalson · 3 years

Link

SPOILERS!

After spending all season covering up Nicholas Endicott’s (Dermot Mulroney) death, criminal profiler Simon Hoxley (Alan Cumming) came to New York on the PRODIGAL SON spring premiere, determined to get to the bottom of the murder. But luckily for Bright (Tom Payne)—and the Whitly family—a link in the chain of people he used to dispose the body ended up being their possible salvation: after one of his connections snapped and killed the other people who transported the corpse, Bright was able to spin a theory that she killed Endicott, too.

With that wrapped up, Hoxley also left—after Bright convinced Ainsley (Halston Sage) to sit down with the Mind Sleuth for a one-on-one interview—and the Whitly family celebrated their narrowest escape yet.

But…are they really in the clear?

PRODIGAL SON co-creators Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver tease what’s to come…

They got away with it! In your mind, is the Endicott case closed or are you leaving that door open for the future? Sam Sklaver: Bright has done a very nice job of [tying things up]. But when we were, early in the season, talking to our one of our advisors who specializes in serial killers, and we said, “What’s the best way to get away with a murder?” And he told us no body, no murder. And the problem is there is an Endicott body.

So I’d like to think that Bright and the Whitlys have gotten away with it…but history always has a way of catching up with the Whitly family. So I think it might just be one more thing to haunt them in the future. I can’t say that anything in the past will ever just stay in the past.

Is this something you’re looking to play with later in the season, or is that more something that might get explored in later seasons? Chris Fedak: We’re going another direction for this season. We have a couple of really exciting things coming up. For Endicott this year, we always like to have twists and turns—[Joking] and you should never trust us, let’s be honest, Sam and I are terrible, terrible liars—but we’re about to depart on a new journey of suspense…we have some new stuff coming up.

At the end of the episode, Martin (Michael Sheen) and Vivian (Catherine Zeta-Jones) kiss—which certainly does not seem like it’s destined to go well, frankly, for either of them. What’s in store for that dynamic going forward? Sklaver: You hit the nail on the head. I think most people who enter The Surgeon’s life, it usually makes their life not better, but worse. Vivian Capshaw is finding herself within The Surgeon’s gaze. So, I am nervous for her. I’m 100% nervous for her. I’m also nervous for her just because we’ve really grown to love Catherine; she’s so amazing on set. And just as a person and with the actors and with our crew—I’m terrified for her; I’m with you 100%. [Laughs.]

Should we be a little bit worried for him, as well? We know he’s dangerous, but she, in theory, does have the bulk of the power in this situation. She seems to be calling a lot of his BS and has been manipulating him, as well… Fedak: I think that’s a really smart perspective on it—she’s no wilting violet. She’s a strong, smart, very sophisticated woman who has a taste for the bad boys—and by which I mean serial killers. So it’s definitely a place where she knows how to to use her authority within Claremont to protect herself and to also keep things from coming out. That’s something that Martin has to be careful of, because he is a patient at Claremont, he is under her thumb, in a way.

Earlier in the season, we got to see Dani (Aurora Perrineau) and Bright coupled up, albeit in his twisted dream state. How much will we be seeing him examine his feelings for her in the rest of season 2? Fedak: We’re exploring the Dani-Bright relationship. [Episode] 6 was a great opportunity for us to remind the audience of it to kind of launch the second half of our season, with an idea of exploring who they are and can these two ships ever come together, or are they doomed? As we head into this side of the season, you’re definitely going to be getting more of Dani and Bright. And, also, like everybody in our show, he needs somebody to talk to. And I think that so often he hasn’t been able to talk to anybody this season because 1) Nicolas Endicott, and then 2) we’ve got something that’s going to kind of bind the whole team together. It’s coming up and it’s going to be huge. The enormity of this event is going to cause everybody to seek refuge and to seek help. And for Bright, that’s going to require him to talk to Dani. Sklaver: The events of episode 6 definitely left a mark in Bright’s mind. And so he is seeing Dani in a different way, which is very exciting for us. You just hope that life doesn’t get in the way, as it often does of his family.

What can you share about this very big event? Fedak: It has something to do with The Surgeon and his plans.

Is this something where fans will retroactively realize the seeds you planted for this story, will it come out of nowhere, or a mixture of the two? Fedak: I think that it is something that we’ve been laying the seeds for for quite some time. Sklaver: And I think it will shock everyone. I think we’ve been laying the seeds for it and it will shock everyone. Fedak: It’s also the second book of the Old Testament. [Laughs.]

Which is Exodus…Should we be expecting to see Martin, potentially, in a different situation than we’ve seen him the first year and a half? Fedak: Let me be even more cryptic: We’ve done a lot of testing hair color for Martin. We’re doing some interesting things.

Intriguing. On another note, how much will JT’s struggles with the force play into what’s ahead? Fedak: I don’t think it’s so much a matter of putting anything off. We brought some very important issues into episodes. And, for us, we ran into a couple of things having to do with production, that kind of changed our plans a little bit in regards to how we filmed the show. But none of those stories have been completed.

For us, our perspective is we want to tell a story that gets into the emotion and the reality of what our characters are going through, especially JT and Dani in regards to that story. We’re not playing out a story where we’re going to solve racism; that would be a not great [or realistic] story. But I think that what we’re going to show as we head toward our finale, and going forward in the show, is that these are a long tail, and that this story that we started here is something that we are going to be playing out in the future.

But it’s not the type of thing that can fit in 13 episodes of television. This story will work more like, this is a part of their lives, and it will come in and out. And it will affect them. And I think we’re going to come at that a little bit differently than we would, say, dealing with our Big Bad of a season or something along those lines.

Looking ahead to the finale, you had a very clear point set for season 1. With production so in flux this year, were you able to be as firm with where you end up at the end of season 2? Or did it have to be more flexible? Sklaver: It’s a mixture of the two things. We’re always flexible, because we always need to be flexible. But we have a very explosive finale, that actually we’ve already shot—we shot it last week. So once again, because of our scheduling, we have a finale, hopefully in the can already. And now we just need to catch up with other episodes. It’s very much the story we did set out to tell that season. And similar to our last finale, it really just sets up an amazing season 3 storyline that we’re getting very excited to tell, fingers crossed.

Fantastic. Is there anything else you can tease about the rest of season 2? Fedak: What happens is that when we get to this point in the season, we have episode 8, which is just amazing and fun, and then we just have a lineup of really crazy episodes. Each one that’s coming your way has just more outrageous stuff in it; it just doesn’t stop until we get to the end of the year. So it really is a ramp, starting with this episode, and it just launches into the second half of the season, and it drives right to the finale. It’s almost too much stuff. We’re really looking forward to the audience watching our madness brought to life.

#prodigal son #prodigal son spoilers #tom payne #michael sheen #Catherine Zeta-Jones #martin whitly #malcolm bright #vivian capshaw #Chris Fedak #sam sklaver #interview #whoa

43 notes · View notes

alloutofgoddesses · 3 years

Text

Episode 8

- I’m so fluffin tired but prodigal son!! It’s back!!

- Ouroboros is one of my favourite Supernatural episodes so I hope the trend continues

- Shit I should not be eating right now

- Hey Malcolm how’re things

- Caring & positive people!!

- Alan Cumming I love you also can I have your eyebrow routine

- Hi Martin

- Hi Catherine Zeta

- Oh no scalpels!!

- Well Ainsley did kind of manipulate and gaslight him so

- CHRIST

- Oh my god I love you so much Simon Hoxley

- Dani I also love you very very much

- AAAAAAHHHHHHH

- I’m having a BLAST

- Fight fight fight fight fight

- So dramatic this is so fun & terrifying for Malcolm and Ainsley

- Using his own system against him is pretty smart tbh

- Which means someone knows, and Malcolm’s in a lot more danger

- Oh hello you’re pretty who’d ya kill

- Fam the lighting on this showwww my poor eyeballs

- This man is unbearable I love him

- SCISSORS

- MARTIN

- Okay Michael I see you ‘for a Brit’

- Martin no

- Obviously it’s a no

- Oh Malcolm

- Why kill Brian Brian I’m sorry we had to take your thumb

- Once again I say this is a blast I’m having a great time watching the passive aggressiveness

- I honestly cannot remember the characters name that’s just Catherine

- WHY are you sitting like that sir shdhdjhsjshshshhshsjsk

- Pressing just all the right buttons babe

- Ms Jessica Whitly are you looking for a sugar baby

- And you did... kind of but now you’re an asshole Ains

- Oh this is going to be FUN

- This is literally my face right now: 😃😃😃😃😃

- Check and check

- Michael Sheen’s acting skills!!!

- He’s gonna stab you babe

- Oh shit!! I love Catherine

- Hammer!!

- Hi Sunshine I wish you had a better cage

- Malcolm keeps cutting it close this episode

- Malcolm Malcolm Malcolm Malcolm!!

- TOM PAYNE’S ACTING SKILLS

- HE LOOKS JUST LIKE MICHAEL DAMN

- Hello love

- I would not be surprised if the killer is her but also I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t. Prodigal Son is really good at insane twists that make complete sense

- Damn right she did!

- SPRINT MALCOLM SPRINT

- Hahahahahahaha the millennial line

- Malcolm’s floppy hair I think I missed you most

- Because Malcolm’s insanely trust worthy

- Goddamn okay

- YES A SCAPEGOAT

- Sorry Natalie but also thank you very much

- Shout out to pain killers

- Also shout out to canes

- Just a good ol sibling favour

- Good for you Ainsley

- Martin how’s it goin

- Catherine!

- Of course she noticed the scissors I love her

- There’s no way these two don’t end up doing something highly illegal (and/or [REDACTED])

- Did she really just say that

- Oh boy

- Hoxley would have loved Edrisa and vice versa I’m sad they didn’t get to meet

- Thank you Zuckermans for a delightful episode

#prodigal son #Malcolm bright #Martin Whitly #Jessica Whitly #Ainsley Whitly #Malcolm Whitly #Dani Powell #JT farmer #edrisa tanaka #gil arroyo #Simon Hoxley #Tom Payne #michael sheen #alan cumming #catherine zeta jones #sorry that this is late I had a very busy day today

19 notes · View notes

alexandenigtscreations · 4 years

Link

Summary:

Directly after Michael's visit in Mag 47 (a new door), Jon prioritizes theorizing over taking care of the stab wound.

“Do you even know that they are lying to you?”

Lieing?

Who's lying?

What was he-it talking about? Why wouldn’t he-it just tell him what was going on!

Another sharp throb caused Jon to curl tighter about his middle.

Stabbed by Michael.

As far as Jon could tell, it was little more than a glorified scratch... an annoyance. He pressed the tissues tighter to the small gash.

Jon hadn’t spared a thought to the dark stain blossoming through his sweater vest, the sticky damp under his fingers or the growing weakness in his limbs. The whole encounter with Michael had left him drained. And Helen-

Good Lord Helen.

The conversation played on loop in his head, but instead of answers, Jon only had more questions. What had Michael meant by unballence the structure? It didn’t seem to be in reference to its own strange doors and corridors.

Doors...

Jon shivered, recalling another strange door that had lied about its destination and a childish book with A Guest for Mr. Spider splashed crossed its front. A boy whose name was lost to memory…. Why couldn't he remember? Why couldn’t he remember the brute of a boy who had saved his life all those years ago? Helen had been taken, just as the boy had been. Right in front of him and there was nothing he could do! Oh god! He was just a useless, deeply annoying man and there was-

He yanked himself back to the present. But he couldn’t seem to stop the shaking.

Michael seemed more than a little unbalanced themself-itself, he corrected. “I am not a who, archivist, I am a what”

Right.

It was plain that Michael viewed the archives as a place of importance. Even Prentiss had bore animosity against the institute. It had laughed when Jon had asked about a war, but if it wasn’t a war, then what was it? And if it was a war, then why wouldn’t Michael just say so? What was the point of Michael coming to talk to him in the first place?

“Don’t want to tarnish your ignorance too early.” the voice came swirling back. Jon prickled. If there was one thing he hated it was being left in the dark. Treating him as little more than a petulant and annoying child who asked too many questions. He had genuinely believed that those days were behind him. As it was, it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Tiredly, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to dispel the fog that had settled over his mind.

Helen Richardson-

She had been there not moments before, asking for answers, for help- Michael had taken her away so easily- treating it as though it was nothing. How had he not noticed the door?! Jon used to be so careful. Useless! He was useless and could no more help Helen than he could figure out Gertrude Robinson’s murderer!

Rewinding the tape and pressing play. “Do you even know they’re lying to you?”

Who, damn it, who was lying?

Despite himself, Jon was inclined to believe Michael. There was something off about the archives that went beyond malicious books and supernatural statements. The Jane Prentiss incident had made that abundantly clear. Pretending that the problem didn’t exist had nearly gotten him killed. Hadn’t Michael tipped Sasha off about how to fight the worms? Even digging one out of her with those swollen sharp hands?

Jon groaned. Sure that this tied to Gertrude in some fashion, but unable to see the connecting threads. He was so tired.

Where was Sasha with that replacement statement? Jon made to stand but the pain flared and bial raised in his throat. Right he thought, taking a moment to breathe. Waiting for the tremmors to subside and for the room to stop spinning, bad idea. Dimly, he wondered if he needed help, but quickly shook it off. He didn’t want to explain what happened. It might tip them off.

“Do you even know they’re lying to you?”

Who was lying?

The question rooted itself in his mind like a bad tune stuck in one’s head. Playing over and over.

So instead, Jon pulled the sticky notes to him, uncapping the fountain pen and started mapping out his limited information and queries. Laying them out on the reverse of his blotter. It felt-important-to keep this quiet.

Michael the What. Normally neutral? What did it know?

Gertrude Robinson, murdered. With a gun, no less. No supernatural forces, just a gun.

The tunnels. He shivered, the last exploration had been far more eventful than he would have liked. Arrows and strange wall moving figures aside, who else would have known about the tunnels, yet alone knew to hide a body there?

Gertrude Robinson’s tape collection. Right now, Constable Basira Hussain was his only hope to get access to the tapes.

War? He lacked a better term for now, but wondered what role the institute played in this conflict. He wondered what the conflict was even. Did it have anything to do with Gertrude Robinson’s death?

The deeper mystery of the institute files

Missing taped statements of 0051701 & 0160204

Jon jotted down the archival staff

Sasha. Though Jon was inclined to take Sasha off the list, he was the one who should have gotten the promotion, not him. Now he felt more like a buffer between her and whatever it was targeting the Head Archivist position.

Tim. Tim-having his name down hurt more than he would have thought. They’d gotten along in research- but now- things were different. Jon couldn't think of a reason to take him off.

And Martin, what did he really know of the man? Not much other than he wasn’t a ghost (lord, had he really been that stupid?) and that he seemed to be hiding something.

Elias? He had maintained that calling Gertrude’s disappearance a death was a formality. Mentioning something about a lot of blood. But what had made him so certain? Did he know anything about the War or… Jon noted the questions down, plastering them under the names as they came.

And, finally, a reminder to himself Trust can get you killed.

“Right-” he said, looking down at the hastily arranged post-it notes. It was hardly a satisfying list, with more questions and missing information than answers. But it was a start.

With a great deal of effort, he flipped over the blotter once more, hiding the notes. Feeling the fatigue weighing down his arms. Without knowing who the ‘they’ were that were lying to him, he didn’t want anyone to see that he was...suspicious.

He paused at the smear of gore on the edge of the blotter. The world spinning around the scarlet smudge. Jon would have to clean that up...but... latter. His eyes felt heavy, his body felt heavy. He sighed, tugging the files, laptop and recorder back over the edge of the blotter, nothing to see here.

Lord he was tired.

Perhaps he would rest his eyes...just a moment. He slumped over his desk, pressing in on his stomach, trying to alleviate the pain that had made its home there.

Dimly he was aware of Sasha entering his office. At least, he thought she did, but it could have been a dream.

She had teased him about sleeping on the job and laughed at the mess he’d made of his work space. “I hope you know I’m not going to straighten this up too.” she’d said lightly.

He hadn’t asked her to tidy the discredited section- and he certainly didn’t need her fiddling with his desk.

“You’ll ruin your neck sitting like that.” A hand at his back, warm, gentil and-wrong, as if stretched thin. For a second he thought Michael had returned. Why was he so cold? “Anyways, I’m going to borrow the tape recorder for the statement. Cheers.”

Rustling at his desk, footsteps and Sasha was gone.

Gone.

Something about it seemed to echo eerily in Jon’s mind. He cracked open an eye.

The tape recorder was gone!

Panic gripped him. The tape! Helen’s statement and Michael- What if Sasha didn’t use a new tape! He couldn’t let Helen be erased like the boy. He had to check! He had to-to-

The adrenaline that had pulled Jon to his feet, flead. This was a mistake. The room wouldn’t hold steady, tugging him this way and that. A static buzzing filled his ears and the blackness took him.

Martin gave Jon’s door a tentative knock “Jon?” he called. He’d learned to give Jon a warning before he walked in. He was really jumpy these days. “Jon, you there?” no answer, but the desk light was on so maybe he’d stepped out. “I’ve got your tea here.”

Still nothing. Martin shrugged, he’d leave it on his desk. Jon would find it, he always did. Since the man hadn’t made a showing for lunch, again, Martin made it a point of ensuring he got a bit of sweet tea in. For all Jon’s insisting that he was a grown man who knew how to look after himself, he certintally let a lot slide.

Martin didn’t mind that. Especially after the worms and Gertrude- he shuddered, recalling how he’d found her- her corpse- in the tunnels. No, Martin didn’t mind making sure Jon was looked after. Nowadays, he’d taken to holding everyone at arm's length. Something Martin had…. personal experience in. Jon had never been friendly, with their nicest conversation taking place in the refuge of document storage. It had been surprising to find under that stuffy exterior, Martin found something rather endearing. But the recent change had hurt to see all the same.

“Alright, I’m coming in.”

From somewhere behind him, Martin could hear Tim give a derisive snort. Things had been...tense.

At first glance, the office was as empty as he had expected it to be. He placed the tea on Jon’s desk and frowned. There on the floor, he caught sight on an arm.

Jon’s arm.

Concern fluttered to life in Martin’s chest. Had he fainted? He was certainly running himself a bit thin these days but-

“Jon!”

There was blood, thick and sticky, pooling on the floor. He was on his side in a strange position. Martin dove to his knees besides the man, shouting his name. He looked small there, his complexion pasty, a sheen of cold sweat on his furrowed brow.

Carefully, oh so carefully, Martin scooped Jon up into his arms.

“Jon! Christ, Jon! Please wake up!” he felt for a pulse, still there, and started patting his face. “Please wake up!” he was limp in Martin’s arms, cold. God, how much blood had he lost? Where was the wound even? He started calling for help. Hoping against hope that they would hear him, that they would come.

“Martin? What are you- Jesus.” Tim was looking down in horror. “What the hell?”

Martin shook his head. “No idea, he won’t wake up!”

“What’s going on?” asked Sasha, peering over Tim’s shoulder.

“Jon.” Tim put a strange emphasis on his name.

She shouldered her way in to have a proper look, frowning as she did so. “Strange, he was fine a couple hours ago when I went to borrow the tape recorder.”

“Just go and ring 999 or something!” demanded Martin in a shrill tone, feeling for the origin of the bleed. Oh god, oh, god oh god! he chanted inwardly this is bad! There! a hole on the front of his vest the size of his thumb. Could something like that truly lead to so much blood? He tugged Jon’s vest and shirt up out of the way revealing Jon’s stomach. Each bone of his ribs and the line of his hip stood out in relief against his brown skin. The red making spongy smears across the surface. The small gash was still bleeding. “And some paper towels!”

Wounds of this size weren’t supposed to bleed this much, were they? Or had something else been hit? Tim shoved some paper towels into his hands and Martin immediately pressed them over the injury.

There was a small moan, and Jon’s eyes, those piercing deep brown eyes, started to flutter open. Relief crashed into Martin.

“Jon?!”

He groaned, hand finding the wad of paper. The pressure-it was a bit... much.

“Jon, can you hear me?”

It took a moment for his eyes to focus, “Ma-Martin?”

“Quick on the uptake I see boss.”

Confusion flooded his system followed by fear. All of his assistance surrounding him when he’d just been- he swallowed. “Wha-why m’ I on the floor?” his voice came soft and jagged.

“We were hoping you could answer that.” Tim replied “And explain where you got that hole in your gut.”

It was then that Jon looked down at himself. His shirt hiked up to his chest and Martin forcing tissues down over his stomach. It hurt-why was that? He drew heavy legs up instinctively, as if curling into a ball.

“M-Matin- What are you doing?”

Martin blushed head to toe “Hopefully preventing you from bleeding out.”

“Oh, oh right-” he trailed off. It came back then, Michael and his too sharp hands and their little confrontation. The doors- Should have paid more attention. “Right-”

“So should I call 999? Or-” Sasha had her phone out, looking around at the group.

Martin and Tim said yes at the same time Jon said No. He said it so loud and forcefully that it sent his whole body trembling, and stomach souring.

“N-no need for that.” Jon panted. He was aware enough to start feeling embarrassed at the whole affair. A scene was not something he had wanted to cause. He hated all the attention, all the fuss, reminding him so much of that day and the bully who’d saved his life. His grandmother had been so angry. It all intensified the watched feeling. It would be better to deal with it alone. He-he could make it to an A&E.

“What do you mean, no need?” scoffed Tim “There’s enough red here to re-decorate your office!”

“An exaggeration-” Jon said stiffly.

“Hardly.” Tim snorted. “Still haven’t told us what happened.” Tim pressed, hand on hip. An impatience Jon recognized from research. Knowing he had to say something, anything or Tim would dig and dig and dig-

“A, a bread knife!” Jon blurted out the first thing that had come to mind, and instantly wanted to shove his foot in his mouth.

“A bread knife?”

Closing his eyes against the swirling world, Jon decided to double down “A bread knife. Turns out-” he swallowed “Lunch is more...hazardous than I was led to believe.” he gasped. He’d never be able to live this one down.

Lord, he hurt.

54 notes · View notes

missshezz · 3 years

Note

Just tripped over your 'Debbie Downer' post, and wow did that resonate! I really wish they had used the Claremont escape to reestablish Martin as a credible threat. Everyone is all panicked that the Surgeon escaped, but since the audience has never *seen* him kill anyone or even do anything horrible enough to cross the moral event horizon (damn Michael Sheen's inherent charisma and wonderful acting! lol), it's hard for that panic to translate over. I'm still hopeful... but maybe not as much :(

Yes, so much this! This is the guy who murdered 23 people. That’s huge by serial killer standards. They’ve also indicated that is only the number Martin has loosely agreed too. The true number could be much higher (as many serial killers are). His escape should illicit panic and terror. This guy is not cured and he’s free. Instead we got a serial killer version of Thelma & Louise going on. It’s a serial killer vacay with Martin inviting his son along for the fun.

Just isn’t resonating with me.

Like, a third option I came up with after I posted was Capshaw being revealed as either an assassin hired by Endicott’s family or by the family of some of Martin’s victims who want to know the truth or want revenge. Like it has more dynamics involved and makes Capshaw a far more interesting character (plus CZJ can totes play the hell out of this sort of cold-blooded killer) because it came out of left field. Plus if they tie in she knows what Malcolm did to Endicott? Angst and trauma delight for the whump crowd and a stellar story overall.

My criticism again comes from a place of love and an admiration for the cast. This storyline is just disappointing. Hopefully this is simply because of covid, network, and other restraints and season three will deliver.

I mean, Supernatural had some less than fantastic seasons and it made it to 15 so there’s always hope! Thanks for the lovely message!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

#asked and answered #thank you for the lovely message!#🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰#prodigal son #prodigal son season two #prodigal son meta

11 notes · View notes

bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

My Love

Chapter 13

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warnings: Violence, Language

Well, this is the final chapter before the epilogue. For a story I started last August and put away thinking no one would ever want to read, I was proven wrong. I cant imagine I will write another story that I love as much as this one. It turned into something I never planned and if you could see the original outline, it is nothing like this. But I appreciate you all so very much for sticking with it and willing to accept an out of the box plot line. I love each one of you who messaged, reblogged, liked, or commented...like seriously, it was my motivation to keep going and to do better.

A/N: Thank you to @mskaneko for the moodboard above. I saved it just for this chapter because it captures the heart of the main characters and this series so well.

And @burnsoslow I swear to God, you are the bestest friend I could ever have asked for. I'm sure you have just as much of yourself in this as I do. You've not only edited the hell out of this series, but literally dropped what you were doing to do so. There are portions you've written or just made better. I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH...EVER for brainstorming, your ideas, talking me out of my stupid ideas and cheering me on. I hope you always know how much I appreciate and value your friendship and help.

With her heart and mind racing in unison, Riley’s hand rapidly shifted the gears of Maxwell’s black Aston Martin Vulcan. Her knuckles whitened from their tight grip on the steering wheel as she pressed down harder on the gas pedal of the luxury sports car. The V12 engine roared with fervor when they sped up down a straight stretch of dark highway; the momentum caused both she and Maxwell to jerk back harshly into their plush leather seats. Her passenger’s disapproving glare and heavy groan had no effect on her. The only thing on her mind was the impending death that awaited her in the Cordonian harbor ahead.

Riley had no recollection of her first death, nor the physical pain her body experienced from the cyanide she had unwittingly ingested before bed weeks ago. The effects of the poison ravaged every cell in her body and hastily shut off her respiration. Those two tiny pills that Amanda had offered her that day to relieve a headache had consumed and destroyed the organs in her body in less than six minutes. If the message Olivia had revealed to her in a dream less than an hour ago was any indication, this second death would be twice as horrifying.

Recalling the heavenly conversation in her head with the apparently deceased Duchess of Lythikos, Riley saw an opportunity. If she were to believe Olivia’s prognostication and warnings and followed through with her former rival’s directions, was it possible her story could end differently? She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain by finding out. Her fear of dying for the second time, however, was staggering.

A devilish smirk curled Olivia’s bright red lips as she arched a sly brow. “It's time, Riley. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do exactly as I tell you.”

Would this plan even work?

Shaking her head to dismiss the terror that threatened to overcome her, Riley flashed a glance over at Maxwell’s lap. His nimble fingers cautiously attached lead wires from an old cell phone into a c4 pipe bomb they had swiped from the armory. There were only two people she knew who had ever handled explosive devices: one she trusted — Olivia -- and the other she was astonished hadn’t already blown them up. “Maxwell, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Swiftly peeling off a strip of duct tape and biting it in half, he puckered his forehead in deep concentration and wound the strip carefully around the explosive contraption. Pausing a moment to inspect his work, his eyes shot back to her with a flash of uncertainty. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Driving through the entrance that led to the marina, Riley dimmed the car’s lights and pulled into the empty spot furthest away from the vast cluster of docked boats and yachts. Shutting off the engine, she bit the corner of her lower lip and stared blankly at the moonlight’s yellowish glow treading along the ripples of seawater in the distance. As much as she wanted to be brave and strong, believing it was the only way she could get through this, she wasn’t ready. How long would she struggle and claw her way for a single breath as the ache and emptiness in her lungs became something she could no longer fight for?

God, help me, she thought as she closed her eyes and the first stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Maxwell placed a comforting hand on her cold and trembling forearm. “Riley. You don’t have to do this. We can turn around right now and --”

“No!” She swiped roughly at the tears that flowed steadily. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I came back, Maxwell. This was always meant to be temporary, and I agreed to it knowing full well the repercussions of that decision. Olivia warned me: This is the only way to ensure Amalas doesn’t hurt Liam or Ellie after I’m … gone.”

Riley’s head fell back against the headrest, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. She rolled her head sluggishly to the right to catch Maxwell’s worried eyes still fixated on her. She drew a shaky breath. “Promise me something, Max.” Her raspy voice was barely above a whisper, and he nodded back with his full attention. “Make sure when Liam gets here … well, just … just don’t let him get himself killed trying to save me. Can you promise me that?”

Maxwell ordinarily lived for intense moments of danger, but even this was beyond his level of comfort.

He turned away from her. Nothing made sense to him at that moment as he shook his head and gazed silently out his window, not knowing what to say to her. His best friend was minutes away from another death, and he was nowhere near ready to face her absence in his life again, especially one based on a dream. And somehow he could sense his friend knew more than she was telling him.

This was insane.

“Maxwell?” Riley pleaded. “Please.”

He spun his head back around to face her again, wanting nothing more than for her to change her mind and return to the palace. Unable to avoid her plea, he huffed with a half-hearted smile, “You already know I will. That’s not even something you have to ask.”

Riley breathed a heavy sigh of relief before reaching behind her seat for the leather satchel she brought. “Then let’s do this.”

Maxwell set the timer for 15 minutes, which would allow her enough time to walk to the small yacht where Amalas awaited Riley’s arrival and for the boat to pull away from the marina. The last thing they wanted was for someone innocent to be harmed when the pipe bomb detonated. Whatever plan Olivia had shared with Riley was clearly upsetting to the woman he thought of as a sister and yet, he trusted it. As Maxwell gently lowered the explosive into the bag she held open for him, he caught a tiny glimpse of hope behind the dread in her eyes that suggested this was bigger than he realized.

As Riley shrugged off her sweater and placed it inside the bag to conceal its contents, Maxwell noted the time on his watch. The minutes were passing by faster than she realized when she opened her door and gave her passenger a knowing look.

“You know what to do, right?”

Maxwell nodded. “Wait for Liam and Drake to get here. Search the port side of the boat after it explodes for you. Aaaand …” He smacked his forehead several times to remember the last point.

Riley’s brows bumped together in a scowl. “And don’t let anything happen to Liam!”

He threw his hands up. “Okay, okay, I got it!” Pausing for a moment, he watched Riley step out of the car and adjust the satchel on her shoulder. “Riley, wait!” he called before hurling himself across the console to look out the driver's side door.

She leaned down into the car. “What is it, Max?”

“Will I ever see you again?” His voice cracked.

Straining to hold back her own tears, Riley closed her eyes and took his sadness to heart. She wanted to give him the truthful answer: She didn’t know what the outcome would be, only that Olivia was working on it. There were a million things that could go wrong, and she had no control over the situation. She opened her eyes back up, barely able to make out Maxwell’s downcast face in the darkness, and smiled softly back at him. “I hope so.”

After closing the car door, she sucked in a deep breath and exhaled steadily to calm her nerves before making her way to the docks. As she made long strides towards the marina, she pulled out her phone and glared at the text message Amalas had sent to her with the location of her boat. She shut her phone off again, not wanting to trigger the explosive before it was ready.

Through trepidation, her heart pounded.

Through adrenaline, her body shook.

As waves crashed and sprayed along the shore, her senses heightened. She shivered from the cold sea air that swept over her bare arms causing her teeth to chatter. Tiny droplets of rain washed away the sheen of sweat that clung to her blanched face from her hairline down. No matter the outcome -- whether Olivia could find some way for her to stay or not -- she was going down on her terms. If the only thing that happened in the next few minutes was guaranteed protection for Liam and Ellie, Riley won.

“It’s about time you got here.”

Recognizing that voice from their many encounters in ballrooms and a Texas bar, Riley tossed a glance over her shoulder. The thin silhouette of power and intelligence stood with a hand on her jutted hip and a power suit that matched her over-inflated ego. Riley curled her lips while the weight of anticipation for revenge built in her chest.

Standing on the deck at the stern of her small yacht, Amalas cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t have all night, Amanda. Are you just going to stand there?”

Riley turned on her heels, clutching her stomach protectively, and stepped up the wooden planks that led to the deck of the yacht … and her destiny.

Amalas gestured for Riley to have a seat while she poured a glass of champagne for herself.

Riley the bag from her shoulder and placed it at her feet. Before taking a seat on the cushioned vinyl sectional that lined the railing of the boat, she swiped away the tiny drops of drizzle that had sprayed in under the canopied roof. She crossed her legs and tried to get comfortable. “So … you needed to see me?”

Amalas laughed wryly and placed the champagne back in the ice bucket. She took a sip and twisted around to face her adversary. “I did need to see you.” She lifted the glass to her lips and spoke coolly. “Queen Riley.”

Internally, Riley laughed at being called out. At this moment, it didn’t matter what Amalas knew, nor did it matter that Amalas thought she had the upper hand in the situation. You’ll be overcooked fish food in about five minutes, bitch. Riley shrugged her shoulders with a cocky grin. “I suppose my little secret is out of the bag. I assume you have a mole in my palace.”

Amalas chuckled sardonically as she casually took a seat on the opposite end of Riley. “Of course I have a mole in your palace. I had to see that my dear cousin was fulfilling her obligations. Imagine my surprise, though, to find out what that cocksucker, Neville, did to her … such a shame. But, I will say, it certainly helped that you and your king weren’t exactly discreet in your ... activities. And someone may or may not have overheard a discussion or two between your little squadron of BFFs.”

Riley felt the boat shudder under her feet as it pulled away slowly from the marina. She took in a deep breath and placed a hand over her tummy. Shit … this is it. Hold on, little one; we’ll be together soon. Everything was occurring quickly and exactly as Olivia had told her it would. Liam will be here soon.

She tilted her head to face Amalas, whose eyes swept over Riley’s shoulder. Before Riley could follow her gaze, a strap of leather wound tightly around her neck from behind, cutting off her airway. She instinctively tried to fight her way out of it but knew it was useless. Her bulging eyes watched Amalas smirk, swirl her champagne, and down the rest of her bubbly drink.

“I always win, Riley. Even if I have to kill you over and over again.”

The guard who was strangling Riley understood this statement as his order: “When you’re finished and the Queen of Cordonia is dead, toss her overboard.” The guard nodded as he continued to tighten the strap, and the Queen of Monterriso walked away, feeling confident of her victory.

____________________

Maxwell shuffled along the wet pavement, his watery eyes never once looking away from the yacht Riley boarded as it left the marina. He had never wanted to break down more than he did at that moment. Knowing that she was scared, that she was alone, and that she had just sailed off to her death -- it was too much for him.

And he had a front-row seat for all of it.

Frustrated that he was losing sight of the boat in the darkness, he cursed under his breath and considered hijacking a vessel to go after Riley himself. That was, until the screeching of tires in the distance pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned to see a truck speeding toward him. Maxwell knew exactly who it was and flailed his arms to catch their attention.

Liam jumped out before Drake had a chance to stop the vehicle completely. Barrelling towards Maxwell, his white button-up still stained with Neville’s blood, Liam was noticeably in full panic mode.

Skidding to a halt, Liam grabbed both of Maxwell’s arms and jerked him closer in desperation. “Where is she, Maxwell?”

He nodded to the open waters. “She left several minutes ago with Queen Amalas.”

Liam glanced out with his fist balled in his hair. “Fuck! Why the hell did you let her go?”

“I tried to stop her, Liam -- I swear it -- but she wouldn’t listen to me!”

Drake tugged on Liam’s elbow and pulled him away. “Come on. You can stand here and argue with Maxwell all night … or we can get a boat and go after her.”

Liam’s eyes darted around the marina until he set his sights on a cabin cruiser several rows over. He jerked away from Drake and hammered his feet in its direction. Hoisting himself up and over the railing, his friends following behind him, he banged frantically on the cabin door with both fists. Drake and Maxwell searched the aft deck for something to shatter the glass of the door with until the distinct click of a lock and a middle-aged man in nothing but his boxer shorts appeared in the doorway. The man appraised Liam and scowled. “Who the fuck do you think you are, banging on my door in the middle of the night?”

Liam pushed his way past the man, and Drake grabbed the occupant by his arm before he could go after him. “That’s the King of Cordonia. You can either get your ass off this boat now -- or I can put you off. Your choice.”

Maxwell unraveled the ropes from the cleats on the dock that secured the boat and made his way to the helm. Drake started the engine and maneuvered them away from the marina. Liam turned to Maxwell when he heard him approaching. “Which way do we need to go?”

The youngest Beaumont wasn’t entirely sure. Under the blanket of darkness, his sense of direction was skewed. Maxwell pointed in the path he last recalled, knowing that the explosive would ignite any second. “Head northwest … but there’s something you really need to know.”

Before Liam could respond, his breath hitched, and a sense of emptiness and a hollowness in his chest suddenly overcame him. It was like one of the greatest parts of himself had suddenly slipped away.

Again.

Liam didn’t need to ask himself what it was; he already knew. It was that same feeling he’d had in a chilly hospital room almost four months prior. And as much as he wanted to shake that feeling, to simply deny it was there ... the heart didn’t lie.

His love was gone.

She had returned, just as she wrote she would in the letter to him. Just as she told him from the very beginning would happen. Except this time, she was taking a tiny part of himself with her, one he hadn’t known they’d created until Drake showed him the final message Liam would ever receive from his beloved wife.

As a lone tear slipped down his cheek, he wept to himself, “Don’t be scared, love. I’m coming to get you. Both of you.”

_______

Riley’s arms fell listlessly to her sides. Her lungs now completely empty of oxygen and her heart no longer beating, the guard unraveled the strap from her neck, leaving behind a deep red ring on her pale skin.

Adhering to the orders issued to him, the guard lifted her lifeless form with ease. Her brown eyes were void of expression as they stared blankly into nothingness. Her head bounced loosely in his arms with each step closer to the railing. Without hesitation or compassion, he tossed her like a rag doll into the tranquil waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

The body clung to the surface, bobbing along with the gentle waves.

Riley’s soul departed from the shell she had inhabited: the body of her killer. For the first time in over a month, she felt like herself again. Her skin bronzed and her hair darkened. The flatness of hips and chest she had grown accustomed to grew curvier once again. An aura of radiance and warmth surrounded her.

Approaching the heavens from where she came, Riley smiled down at the tiny infant curled into her arms. If she didn’t know better, she would swear it was Ellie. ”Hello, you.”

“I see you finally made it.”

Riley chuckled. “Good to see you too, Olivia.”

Olivia crossed her arms and eyed the baby curiously. “I see you couldn’t keep Liam off you this time, either.”

A giggle escaped Riley’s lips as she looked down at the bundle again and caressed the soft downy curls that covered their tiny head.

She glanced back up to her friend. “I miss Liam and Ellie already. I love them so much, Olivia.”

The duchess placed a hand at the top of Riley’s back and guided her forward. “I know you do. The kind of love you shared together never goes away … I don’t entirely understand it, but I knew it was you in that ballroom by the way he looked at you. By the way you looked at him. It was slightly nauseating.”

“Just slightly?”

“Fine, it was thoroughly disgusting. Satisfied?”

Riley rolled her eyes in amusement and chuckled. “Even in death, you’re still the same Olivia Nevrakis we all know and love.”

Olivia waved her hand dismissively with a groan. “Well, this place is entirely too … cheerful and pleasant for my taste. I’ll have to oversee some changes to all this daily merriment.”

“Good luck with that,” Riley snickered. She stopped walking and turned to Olivia with a knowing look. “Soooo ... what happens now? Were you able to ... you know?”

Olivia looked to the lighted pathway. Riley followed her gaze with apprehension, her eyes demanding an answer to the question.

“It’s time to go, Riley.”

“Where?”

______________

Drake held tightly to the steering wheel as the boat hit a melee of turbulent swells. The explosion in the distance made it easier to track the location of Amalas’ boat, but the choppy waters were difficult to drive on.

Liam stood heartbroken but silent, wearily watching out the glass panel in the boat's front. The debris that burned and spread across the sea lit up the black sky. And directly before that rubble, according to Maxwell, he would find the body of a woman who meant nothing to him. She was just a temporary placeholder for the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul.

In his mind, he knew Riley and their baby had returned to join his mother. That finding the body that belonged to Amanda Talbert would be just that: Amanda.

Riley Brooks rested under an apple tree at the edge of the garden maze where he had laid her to rest months ago. She would forever belong to the ages.

She had returned to save him from his anguish. His despair and loneliness.

But mostly from himself.

And she left tonight, having saved him and their daughter from an evil plot.

What was it about his wife that she could defy life and death to save him? It didn’t surprise Liam; Riley had rescued him the first night they met. Now she had given her last breath to do so again.

The heat from the mangled, burning boat and its debris was intense. Drake steered as close to the rubble as was safe to do so and dropped the anchor.

Liam took a deep breath, feeling the weight of sorrow pressing against his chest and the hands of his friends’ comforting grasps on his shoulders.

The three men exited the cabin together and stepped onto the aft deck. Each man scanned the waters that were lit brightly by the soft glow of a thousand twinkling stars, a silvery moon, and the orange flickers of nearby flames. Even with Maxwell describing the area Riley told him they would find her, it was proving to be an impossible task.

But not one of them was willing to give up.

This woman wasn’t even Riley, but it didn’t matter. For Maxwell, Drake, and especially Liam, she was proof that what took place the last few weeks was real. That what they felt in their hearts was true.

“Liam!” Drake tapped his best friend's arm and pointed to remnants of boat pieces. ”I see her. Right there.”

Liam squinted, not really seeing what Drake was pointing to at first, until she finally came into view. He stood there, frozen, not wanting to see her like that, not ready to accept what was obvious now: Riley had left him again.

“I … I can get her, Liam,” Maxwell offered through a sniffle and a wispy cry. “I’ll be gentle.”

Liam smiled softly back at him and shook his head. “I know you would, Maxwell. I appreciate that.” He reached down and removed his shoes, tossing them to the side. “But this is something I feel I should do.”

Liam climbed over the railing and stepped off into the water under the watchful eye of his friends on board, who were ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

Swimming through the serene waters that had a tinge of warmth from the surrounding fires, Liam made his way through the littered sea. All around him, black plumes of smoke billowed from pieces of fiberglass and plaster. The air was thick with the pungent odor of sulfurous diesel fuel.

He didn’t understand why these actions meant so much to him. Yes, this woman was proof of the spiritual connection he had shared with his late wife, but she was also the one who took her from him. Why did he feel so drawn to her at this moment? Why did he feel he had to be the one to rescue her from a watery grave? He could very well leave her there, knowing it was what she rightfully deserved for what she had done to Riley.

For what she had done to him.

Liam recognized her clothing as she lay still, face down, on the surface of the water. Wrapping one arm around her, he attempted to swim back but found it difficult to do with one arm. Drake, noticing this, tossed out a rope and held onto the other end. Liam wound his wrist around it and began the slow journey of being pulled back to the boat.

_________

“Where am I going, Olivia?” Riley asked with a toothy grin. “Am I staying here or were you able to help me?”

Olivia smoothed down her red sequin gown with a mischievous gleam in her bright green eyes. “Never underestimate a Nevrakis, Riley. I told you I would find a way for you to stay and ... I did.”

Shocked to hear those words, that she would return to her family and friends, Riley let out an elated sob. “Are … are you serious? I’m going back? I’m really going back?”

Olivia nodded. Her thin red lips twisted into a satisfied smile.”Yes. You’re going back.”

“And my baby too?”

“Package deal, Riley. And before you ask … this isn’t temporary. When you return, it’s a done deal. It’s final. The big guy doesn’t want to see you back here for a very long time.”

Riley laughed through her tears of joy. “I sure hope I don’t let him down, then.”

“Heh. Me too.” Olivia turned to face her, her features more solemn now. She motioned behind Riley. “Now ... Your Majesty, I believe it’s time for you to go. Liam’s waiting for you.”

Riley gave Olivia a small smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you’ve done.”

“Don’t even bother trying.” The duchess shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just sorry I’ll miss you two trying to explain all of this to people. I may have to sneak out of this joint and see what you come up with.”

Riley laughed before her expression grew more thoughtful. “Goodbye, Olivia.”

She smiled back affectionately. “Goodbye, Riley.”

____________

Drake and Maxwell reached over the rails and looped their arms around Liam, pulling him up to the deck.

Exhausted and gasping for a refreshing breath that didn’t include saltwater and ash, Liam collapsed to the floor. Amanda was still wrapped protectively in one arm, her face nestled against the crook of his neck.

Winded, Drake and Maxwell hunched over with their hands resting on their knees.

As the crackles and snaps of fires echoed softly in the background, a brilliant light glowed from the sky and illuminated Amanda with a golden haze.

With eyes wide and mouth agape, Maxwell fell to his knees, speechless. Drake took a half-step forward, his eyes full of astonishment and wonder.

Liam could feel the warmth against his skin and naturally angled his head toward it. As the light faded away, his blue eyes met her brown ones. It was the same two pairs of eyes that had locked on each other in a New York bar two years ago. They shared a silent gaze charged with emotion and passion. It both electrified him and made his heart flutter. Liam studied her eyes, her radiant smile, her face that was as beautiful as a sunrise.

She looked like his Riley. She felt like his Riley.

With his eyes brimming with tears and love, he swallowed over the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

A sweet smile emerged on her lips, and she brushed her thumb over his damp cheek. “No, my love. You’re not dreaming.” Her voice spoke softly and tenderly. “Open your eyes, Liam.”

#liam x mc #liam x riley #the royal romance #trr #My Love #bbrandy2002 #king liam #Riley Brooks #tw suffocation #tw murder #tw death #tw strangulation #tw drowning

181 notes · View notes

fiendfluid · 4 years

Text

it is an unmooring of the mind

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Jonathan Sims & Daisy Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Daisy Tonner Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Daisy Tonner, Peter Lukas, Tim Stoker, Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Selkies, Drowning, Lonely Typical Depression And Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Touch-Starved, Casual Physical Affection, Blood and Gore, Hopeful Ending, Fluff and Angst Chapters: 7/10

“Persistent bastards.”

Jon pulls the binoculars away from his face, his mouth set in a grim line.

They had to leave port without Daisy, with the Tundra looming ominously in the horizon--drawing closer with every panicked minute of unmooring and setting off. Jon had insisted she would be able to track them down, but even he had looked worried, which of course set Martin off in turn.

They set off, staying as close to shore as they dared, something about being in the open water without her set Jon on edge, though nowadays anything did, really. Not that he was paying attention.

“Your lot must have finally killed one too many of their playthings.” Martin mutters coldly.

In the six days of speedy travel away from the Tundra, nothing had been done to improve the strain between them--not that either of them have tried to fix anything; Jon just hovers around, like some kind of nervous moth, drawn toward the light but unsure what to do once it got there--and frankly Martin isn’t in the trying mood.

“Martin,” Jon says slowly, staring in that way he does often; usually when he thinks Martin’s being a moron. “the Tundra was never chasing after me, they’ve been looking for you.”

Martin scoffs, frowning. “What? No it’s not. They dragged you onto the ship in the first place, Lukas has been trying to kill you!”

The clouds overhead crackle with ill temper, casting the boat in strange, draining grey light. It makes Jon appear more gaunt, haggard as he slides into the chair across from Martin. He hasn’t been sleeping, that much is clear from the shadows under his eyes, the lifeless sheen to his skin--and even if he hadn’t been looking, the nightmares are enough of a tell themselves. Martin stamps down the spark of pity he feels.

“While you’re right that Peter Lukas has never turned down a chance to hurt us, he’s never gone out of his way to seek us out until now.” Jon clarifies. “He’s--he’s probably not even allowed to kill me.”

“What does that mean?” Martin asks, and Jon twitches uncomfortably.

“It’s a long story.” Jon deflects, fumbling blindly for his lighter as he lights up yet another cigarette. But Martin isn’t in the mood.

“No, sorry, you don’t get to do that.” Martin says, stabbing an accusing finger toward Jon. “Now isn’t the time for secrets or being cryptic. No more games, so just talk like a normal person.”

Jon doesn’t so much as flinch, matching Martin’s stony gaze with one of his own. He has never been one to push, or walk directly into conflict, but he holds his ground now, and it doesn’t take long before Jon relents, letting out a long, frustrated noise akin to a growl alongside a billow of smoke.

"You’re right…” Jon concedes, like he’s been forced to swallow glass. “listen, things have happened with Lukas in the past, terrible things I don't ever wish to repeat--you don't know what he is, the friends he keeps."

“Then tell me.”

“Fine.” Jon starts, his voice adopting a tone of professional distance, his eyes fixed at a point just past Martin's shoulder. “I have not been, nor will I ever be safe as long as I live this life as a creature such as I am. I have spent years avoiding the nets and collars of every monster worse than I that wishes to claim me or my skin. But the Tundra has always been one step ahead of me...”

Jon trails off, lost in thought. He smiles so sadly that Martin almost asks him to stop, but curiosity keeps him quiet.

“I was so cocky, so sure of myself and my abilities. But you can't avoid a cage when it is shrouded in fog.” Jon continues, “I was caught--Lukas wanted to give me back to the Institute, as a gift, probably. I had to fight tooth and bloody nail to get away before that happened. By the time that damn ship finally vanished from the horizon, I was just angry.

“I met Daisy, and she was willing to help me…deal with the Tundra. So I tried to hurt him. Whatever he wanted I took before he could have it. Whether that be potential victims turned proteges or damaging the ship, it didn't matter. We were riding the world of monsters, at least, that's how it felt...but well, you know.”

His eyes flit up to catch Martin's gaze before shying away. “Things...changed.”

His voice warps and changes, fraying at the edges of control. Martin can feel the way his own face turns down in a grimace, unable to keep his horror from manifesting. Not when Jon bares his soul, albeit reluctantly.

“But he never retaliated against us,” Jon frowns, with a very unsubtle clearing of his throat, “he’s never batted an eye until now.”

“The Institute you mentioned,” he starts softly, wary of Jon’s responding flinch. “does Lukas have a hand in that as well?”

Jon shakes his head, gathering his arms close around himself. “Not entirely. He supplies them with money and other such things. No, that place is...someone else’s doing.”

“And they hurt you too? They did--” Martin cuts himself off. He weakly gestures toward the whole of Jon.

“Not all of it.” Jon says, rubbing at a couple of his scars. “But yes.”

“And have you hurt them? Has it even helped at all?”

“No. No it hasn’t.”

“Well.”

“Like I said, I'm not trying to justify my-my monstrosity.”

“You aren’t a monster, Jon. But I don’t understand why you chose now to run away from everything.”

“Because I’m scared, Martin!” Jon snaps, his voice loud like an explosion between them. “I don’t ever want to set foot on that ship again, and I won’t go back to whatever hellish games await me inland. But Lukas wants you--for what I don’t know, could be something to do with the mark Gerry mentioned or simply just being a part of the Tundra, but that could mean anything. So if it means I have to run to protect us, then I will.”

Martin takes him in, all harsh edges and deranged eyes; biting at his lip with single minded doggedness, nails scraping skin as if to rip up every one of his imperfections up from the root with little care for the damage he’ll leave in its wake.

“You don’t have to fight the world alone,” he says at last, though he isn’t surprised when Jon just shakes his head in instantaneous refusal. “I’m scared too, for what it’s worth.”

Jon jerks as if struck. The look on his face shatters the distance between them just as swiftly as it shatters Martin into a million tiny pieces. He meant it to pacify, to calm the turmoil raging away in Jon's mind so plainly. But Jon just looks as if the world crashed around his shoulders, the wall he had been building back up between them falling to the wayside, leaving him small, fragile.

“I'm sorry.” he says, with such sincerity and grief it stabs a shard of pity deep into his chest, that Jon would assume it was him Martin was afraid of. Maybe in the past that would have rang true, that his deeds would have proven too damning.

“Just promise you won’t do that again.” Martin says, holding his gaze without flinch.

Jon bristles immediately, predictably, despite all his claims against defending himself. His face does an interesting dance, twisting an array of emotions too quickly for Martin to truly parse until he lands on something weary, accepting.

His voice is small, a croak of noise in the hollow of his throat. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Just to clarify, you know I mean the drowning--”

“Yes, Martin. I understand, thank you.” He snorts, a humorless sound but a step in the right direction.

Martin ducks his head, hiding the small, blooming smile spreading across his lips. He reaches out between them, plucking the cigarette from Jon’s unsteady fingers, ignoring the absolutely pissy look it earns him. Depositing it into the bin where it belongs, he turns back to face Jon, daring him to argue.

Jon scowls, albeit softly, something turning it wobbly. He raises the binoculars back up to scan the empty yet teeming wake they leave behind, not saying another word.

(LINK TO READ THE REST IN THE REBLOGS)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #unmooring preview

7 notes · View notes

suddeninklings · 5 years

Text

Update!

Hide Your Fires. A little over a year after the events of the Dover-Birch case, Detective David Loki has a chance run-in with a former classmate. Equally lonely souls, burdened with pasts they would like to forget, the two reconnect in ways neither expected. Detective Loki x OC. Romance, Thriller, Comfort.

(Part 1)

Tuesday.

Helen Abbott-Howser. The fourth of twelve victims. Between October 1997 and March of 1999, the incongruously named Roadside Ripper had been active across the counties of Centerfield, Cambria and Conyer’s own Middlesex. A round dozen, the killer had proclaimed in a typed letter posted in rest stops across the state in the early hours of April 1st, 1999. Some called it a manifesto. In it, he attempted to rationalize the attacks. At the time, there was no word for a man like the Ripper. With the turn of the century and the rise of the internet, there now was. All of the victims were women between the ages of 25-40. In the letter, he cited years of rejection and humiliation as proper cause. It wasn’t until 2012 that similar attacks brought the Rippers killings back to light and gave him a more suitable label. He was an incel.

One of many men who practiced what they called “voluntary celibacy” due to the lack of romance or sex in their lives. In their minds, women were to blame and many of them believed that women should be made to suffer. As they had. To most, they were angry young men, dangerous and ruled by hate, but heroes to some. Sixteen years had passed since his last victim had been found off the interstate, ten miles outside of town. Despite the PSP and the FBI’s involvement in the case, there was no evidence other than the circumstantial. No leads. The few suspects the police had managed to find had all of them been disproved by DNA. The case was open, but practically dead in the water.

David could remember his foster mother, Teri (or was it Denise then? They all blurred together in his memory) watching the story play out on the news with equal parts disgust and fascination. Women were told to take caution driving on the highway alone. Some police departments advised against it altogether. Even after the manifesto had been found, in which the killer claimed he had been absolved of the shame and pain of living as “subsidiary male in a society that set him up to fail,” people were on edge for many of the years that followed. It wasn’t until the string of missing child cases grew more and more frequent that public focus shifted and the Ripper was more or less lost to time.

Shit. David thought, the weight of his offense still weighing on him. Maybe it’s too early. I should come back later.

He stood on the Howser porch, fighting the urge to pace. Sleep had not been easy to find that night and the lack of it made him restless. He blinked, his grip on the paper wrapping in his hand tightening. He had been up before dawn trying to craft an apology in his head, but anything he managed to come up with felt hollow on his tongue, lacking the sincerity he knew he owed her. It was a problem he had dealt with since childhood. Even now, he still struggled to engage with people outside of work. He couldn’t interrogate them. Couldn’t order them about or adhere to their orders. There were no such hierarchies in life, or at least, if there were, there shouldn’t be.

He took to observing from a young age, desperate for social cues and leads. He attempted emulation, but as a child often failed, leading him from home to home. Shuffled through a broken system that neither liked nor cared for him. Those years were not ones he wished to linger on, but he couldn’t deny that they had helped him build an arsenal of tools that allowed him to excel at his work. Being guarded and watchful were gifts professionally. But personally? So many relationships were shot before they could even properly begin. He convinced himself it wasn’t troublesome. That it made life easier. Easier to push through life from one day to the next.

He lifted his hand, to knock on the door one last time, when he picked up the sound of light footfalls behind him.

“Are those for me?”

David turned. Grace stood at the bottom of the small staircase leading up to the porch, having just returned home from a morning run. Her cheeks and forehead flushed red and a thin sheen of sweat covered her face and neck. She wore a loose grey t-shirt and leggings, a thin hoody was tied around her waist. Strings of loose hair clung to her temples or floated like a strange crown around her head. Small clouds of smoke escaped her lips as she slowed her breathing. He looked down to his hand, where her gaze was focused. An early morning drive, to help better his thinking, had resulted in, not the right words, but flowers. The market on the corner of Main and Bradshaw had been stocked full at opening and he had had his pick. It was a small bouquet; sprigs of white daisies and purple hoary stock in place of olive branches. He nodded, opening his mouth in hopes that the right words would just tumble out.

“I’m an asshole-” He felt his own cheeks go hot.

Grace shook her head, hitching her hands on her sides with a breathy sigh. She looked towards the ground. “David, it’s fine-”

“No really, I-wasn’t even...My head’s be so full of-”

“David!” She laughed this time.

He stopped, blinking twice before daring to look her in the eye again. They were light, almost amused. Yesterday they had looked hazel, but under the glow of the early morning sky they seemed almost green. She smiled and stepped up to meet him, snatching the flowers from his hand and holding them up to her nose.

“They’re nice,” She said, whole-heatedly. “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.”

David dodged her eye, the heat spreading from his face down his neck. A mixture of relief and nervous energy still broiling. It seemed too easy. All the officers at the station, they talked about their wives and girlfriends as if apologies were impossible.

“You…want to come inside? I have coffee.” Grace said, her voice lilting as she placed her hand on the door and pushed it open.

David settled into a chair at the head of a small oval table off the kitchen, waiting for Grace to return. After ushering him through the narrow front hall, passed the steps to the upper floor and into the family room off the kitchen, she had brought him a cup and excused herself to change. Out of habit, he began to appraise the home. It looked as though no work had been done to it since it had been built. The formal dining room across the hall had been converted into an office; stacks of papers and books were littered across a small folding table that doubled as a desk. A computer that looked to be older than anything he had come across in the precinct was already sitting in a box. The kitchen was small, with bulky walnut cabinetry and aging appliances. The family room was equipped with a small television, couch and recliner that seemed to have labored through the most use. There were few photos on the walls. A watercolor painting of a marina scene hung over a small electric fireplace in the corner next to screen door that led out to the backyard. There was a stale scent in the air. Dust. He could see it floating slowly, as if practically frozen in time, catching the light of the morning sun as it filtered lazily through the glass.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” He said when she returned. She nodded, her eyes rolling back as she settled into the chair across from him. Simultaneously, they reached for their cups and drank. The coffee was black as night. Just how he liked it. Apparently how she liked it too.

After a moment’s quiet, Grace said softly, “I feel like I’m the one who should apologize.”

David sat up straighter. “No, Grace, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright, really. I don’t know why I reacted that way.” She lifted the mug to her lips again, but paused before taking another drink. “I mean that was one of the reasons I left,” she took a sip and continued. “...And didn’t come back. Some people, that’s all they want to talk about. Martin never seemed to mind it but...I couldn’t stand it. Being the dead woman’s daughter. All that pity and nosiness...disguised as niceness. People I never knew would approach us about it. As if they had any right or reason other than morbid curiosity.”

David understood the feeling. It wasn’t often that he dated. Or even met with friends. They all wanted to talk about his work. Especially after the Dover case. He could sense when they were about to bring it up. Their eyes would take on a strange light. He could practically see the gear in their heads twisting and turning, trying to find a way to steer the conversation towards the case.

Grace set her mug down, exhaling. Her shoulder dipped down as if they had been pushed by some invisible weight. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all of this. Hell, I don’t have time for it. The junk company is coming tomorrow and then the realtor and-”

“I can help.” David said.

Grace stopped, fixing him with a look of confusion. “What? No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No, really.” David said, leaning forward. He thought of his empty home across the road. The lack of errands. He thought of his desk at work and how he had been more or less banned from returning to it until the following Monday. “I know it won’t make sense, but...you’d be doing me a favor.”

It didn’t take much convincing, despite the oddity of the request. Once he was able to convince her that he wasn’t aiming to help simply out of guilt, they began to rifle through each room of the house. Boxes were filled, piles of papers tagged for lawyers, furniture pushed towards the center to account for the painters coming later in the week. To David’s relief, the day didn’t drag and before they knew it, the evening had home. Endlessly grateful and thoroughly exhausted, Grace put in an order for pizza. At David’s suggestion they crossed the street over to his house, where a refrigerator stocked with cold beer and a welcoming deck were waiting to be taken advantage of. They sat outside, watching a thin bank of clouds drift slowly over the lake, their colors shifting from a soft white to a pastel yellow to an alarmingly vivid shade of orange as the sun drifted further and further down.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do this all without you.” Grace said, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “But...I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news?” David asked, reaching for his beer.

Grace squeezed her eyes shut, the corners wrinkling as she indulged in a playful wince. With a shake of her head, she buried her face into her knees for a moment before continuing bashfully, “There’s a basement.”

He smiled. It was small and fleeting. He wasn’t sure if she had seen it. They remained outside, talking softly and long into the night, until the all manner of sunlight dipped down below the treeline and the sky above became an inky blue sea of stars. As though they were, and always had been, old friends.

Wednesday.

David wandered over to her house at 12:15, after he saw the realtor pull out of the drive and drift down the road, out of sight. She opened the door at first knock, wearing a smile that was quickly becoming familiar to him.

“Afternoon,” She said breathlessly. She hitched one arm against the door, her hip jutting out in the opposite direction. A large box, filled with books and bearing the label Goodwill sat at her feet. Her hair was piled up on the top of her head, wisps and strings falling loosely around her face.

“Look at that, you have arms.” She joked, with a nod of her head. David looked down, feigning a laugh. The day was uncharacteristically warm and humid. A silver sun glared down through a layer of paper thin cloud cover, coating the land below with an odd, muted shadow. He left his jacket and button ups at home this time, instead sporting a jersey t-shirt and ravaged pair of jeans he pulled out when working on his own house. She was dressed similarly, wearing the same leggings as the day before and a cutoff shirt with thin, horizontal pinstripes.

“How’d it go?” He asked, following her through the narrow front hall.

“Oh, fine,” She said, making a hard left. “His dad was friend’s with Martin’s, so he’s going to cut me a deal which is nice. Now, I’m almost completely sure that everything down here can be trashed.”

She opened the door to the basement, absentmindedly pulling at a string of ribbon hanging just inside the doorway. A small bulb flickered on with a crackling snap, but it did little to properly light the wooden steps that led down.

“I’ve been too scared to look, but hopefully there’s not too much do-Ah!!”

A creak and a crash, followed by several smaller thumps and finally a sickening shatter, sent David rushing around the corner after her.

“Grace!?” He barked, bracings his hands against the frame of the door.

“Fine! I’m-I’m fine.” Came a garbled response from the shadowy depths below. David reached for the handrail.

“Wait! Stop!” She called, halting him in his tracks. “There’s a faulty step. I...forgot.”

“Are you alright?”

“-fourth one down, be careful.” She continued. “Ouch. Fuck me.”

He leapt passed it, taking the next few two at a time until he reached the bottom.

“There’s a switch. On the wall.” She mumbled, looking more like a mass of black shadow as David’s eyes attempted to adjust. He pressed his hand to the wall, flicking it on. A bank of old fluorescents buzzed to life. Grace was hunched over on her knees, her hair having fallen loose from the scrunchie.

He tried again. “Are you hurt?”

“Uff,” She breathed, pushing her hair away from her face. “I mean, my pride is yeah...and maybe my knee. Ow!”

She hissed, drawing her hand away. The tips of her fingers were coated in blood.

“God...dammit.” She said, shifting up so that she could sit on the last step. The unmistakable sound of glass scraping against concrete filled the room. David knelt down in front of her.

“Language, Abbott, please.” He tutted, with a wry smile. Grace huffed a laughed, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip as she tried to shake off the shock and the embarrassment. God, I hope he didn’t see. She thought, as the fall played back through her mind. She was fairly certain she had looked as graceful as a penguin tottering off to sea. She watched as he assessed the damage, trying to push the image far away.

“Looks like you landed on something.” He said, finally, his fingers gingerly pushing at the now flattened box that sat where she had fallen. It felt necessary, if not useless to state the obvious.

“Looks like it.” Grace said, her hands hovering over her knee. Sure enough, a few bits of grainy glass had torn through her leggings and looked to be embedded in her skin.

David stood, offering her his hand. “Here.”

She looked up, her face flushed red. She took it and he pulled her up, winding her arm around his neck so that he could better help her hobble up the stairs.

Grace sat atop the kitchen counter next to the sink, situated so that David could tend to her knee. He pulled a chair in from the living room and set it in front of her. She watched quietly as he rifled through a first aid kit. Where he’d managed to find it, she didn’t know. It must have been older than the pair of them. He still looks so young though. She thought, her eyes drifting down past his face to his neck. Except for the tattoos. Did he have those in high school? I can’t remember. That she recognized him, or anyone, was a surprise to her. Her senior year and been a blur of grief and determination. Conyers felt more like a prison then. A barrage of whispers and glance she was desperate to escape. When she couldn’t sleep she studied, earning herself valedictorian status and a full ride ticket out of town. She promised herself she would never look back. It meant losing touch with long kept friendships and starting from scratch. But it felt worth it. Now it seemed a little dramatic, but she was a teenager then.

Maybe it’s because he seems...the same, in some ways, She thought. Quiet and sedate. Many girls in her grade had spent some time nursing a crush on David Loki. He was the ‘new kid’ after all. A broody boy from the outskirts of town. No one had known him before he showed up on the first day of school. He was a loner. A mystery. Grace understood the appeal then, but never enough to act on it. Very few of them had. Even then, as an underweight, seemingly insomniatic teen, he had a strange air about him. As if he were haunted. Or the one doing the haunting. Grace had never been sure which. He had filled out since those high school days, but he still looked saturnine, as if a good day’s rest eluded him entirely.

She leaned back, her head hitting the cabinetry behind her. She looked around the room, feeling suddenly impolite for staring. The kitchen felt so small, smaller than she remembered. Her legs dangled off the edge of the counter, her feet swaying gently from side to side, as if caught in a breeze. She felt very much like a child, having tripped in the backyard and come bursting through the door with tears streaming down her face and crying for a parent. She could practically feel the heat of the tears, the wobbly path they would make before drying against her skin. She had been holding them back. Fighting them really. Since entering the house after so long. Despite her best efforts, there were still memories here. Small signs of her mother that Martin hadn’t willed away.

“Grace? Do you mind if I-?”

“Oh! No, I can-” Her hands went to her leg, fingers pulling at the torn fabric of her leggings, until she gathered all of it above the knee. She winced as she could now clearly see the bits of glass, tinged scarlet.

“This might sting,” David said softly. With surprising tenderness, her carefully pulled loose the pieces of glass, before pressing a damp cloth to the torn skin. Grace’s hands balled into fists as the antiseptic sunk into the shallow wounds. He let it sit for several seconds, before pulling it away and letting it fall into the sink at his right side.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Grace said, trying to fill the silence.

“We all go through some basic training at the academy.” He explained as he began to wrap her knee with a thin layer of bandage. She felt his finger brush the back of her leg and deftly lift it slightly. Quite strangely, she thought of Cinderella with her leg poised to receive the infamous glass slipper.

Christ Grace! She thought to herself, feeling her neck grow warm. You are no put upon damsel and he’s no...daring prince…

She looked down at him again, her eye catching sight of a small divot just above his left temple. Were it not for the closeness of his cut, she may not have noticed it at all.

That must be...She thought. “The bullet wound.”

“What?”

Oh shit. Grace thought. Did I...say that out loud?

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. I just keep digging myself deeper. Well...what is it they say? In for a penny...

“I may have, um,” She flushed, leaning her head back against the cabinet again and gazing up and away. “-looked you up. Last night.”

He didn’t seem surprised.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The Dover-Birch case? That’s...quite a story.”

Dammit. She thought, eyes flicking shut as she prepared for the backlash. Why’d I say that?! I’m going to scare him off. As if he wasn’t wary already. Being a cop and all. She had seen the way he’d blanched at the bar. It wasn’t much more than a blink but it was all she needed to draw the proper conclusions. She had enough dealings with cops to know how they felt about her work. It didn’t bother her if they despised her. But David was...well, not a friend but...he was something.

He exhaled, long and low, but the breath didn’t carry the disdain or annoyance she expected. He almost sounded amused. That can’t be right. She looked back down at him. Surprisingly, a wry shadow of a smile ghosted across his face.

“Force of habit?” He said, almost teasingly as he tucked the remaining wrappings back into the kit before snapping it shut.

“I guess, yeah.” She said, sheepishly, feeling well and truly chastised.

He paused a moment, a far away look in his eye before standing up. Instead of moving away, he leaned towards her, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter, each one positioned a respectful distance from her legs. His face was level with hers now. And close. Almost uncomfortably so. At least it should have been. But it wasn’t.

His eyes. She thought, pressing her lips together in a thin line she could only hope was unreadable. They were deep and dark, as blue as oceans. She could see fleck of brown in the irises. He was close. So close. But not close enough. She swallowed hard as the realization came slowly. She wanted him closer. Needed it.

“Your exposé on the DWP was good.” He said, finally. “Really something,”

Her brow shot up.

“I...looked you up, too.” He said, a knowing smile flashing across his face.

Grace reciprocated. “Really?”

“Really.” The smile remained, tugging at one side of his mouth. Grace felt the yearning in her chest begin to churn and warm.

“Guess we’re both a little too curious, huh?” She said, lifting her hand up. “...May I?”

He tipped his head down. Ever gently, her fingers brushed the longer lengths of his hair up and back so she could better see the scar. Instinctively, he drew closer as her legs slid further apart. She could feel his breath, slow and warm against her neck. Her own breath hitched as she took in the angry, craggy line. It had mostly healed over, but she knew enough about these sorts of wounds to imagine what it had been. He tilted his head up again. She could feel his hands dragging across the counter, drifting closer and closer to touching her. Almost. But not quite. She let her fingers slide through the tendrils of his hair. Back and down until they could more easily cup the back of his neck. It was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned in, his lips pressing against hers. Softly at first. Her fingers tangled in the hair and pulled. Closer. They thought, almost in unison. She could feel his hands on her thighs now, clamping down and drifting upwards. Her hips rocked against him. Once. Twice. The next thing she knew she his hands were underneath her, pulling her up easily. Her legs wrapped around him tightly. Her arms reached around his shoulders and pulled at his shirt. His lips pulled away from her mouth for only a second. Enough time for her to whisper the question they both knew the answer to.

“Bedroom?”

He drew her off the counter and her legs unhooked, but his arm stayed tight around her waist, keeping her mouth in line with his. Her toes barely made contact with the floor as they moved down the hall. He paused just before the doorway, spinning her round. Her back hit the wall. He muttered an apology as he peppered kisses up her jawline. His hands were splayed on either side of her shoulders, his body pressing up against hers. She could feel the hardness of his form, from his chest all the way down.

“Don’t be-” She heard herself whisper, her breath ragged and raw. “Just keep going-”

She fumbled with her shirt, trying to loose her arm free. He was there, his hands pulling it up over her head. She followed suit, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over.

They disappeared through the door, unable to wait any longer, the basement well as truly forgotten.

Just a little tease this time around, but there will be more soon! It’s been a while since I’ve written these kinds of scenes. I feel out of practice. >.< Thanks for reading! Hope to update very soon.

#detective loki #jake gyllenhaal #fanfiction #hyf

32 notes · View notes

narcopharmacist · 4 years

Text

This basic ass b*tch randomly thought of following the generic storylines now infamous in webtoons, light novels, whatever. Here I came up with a cliché story, just to satisfy my curious mind of what it feels like. Gob my head is starting to hurt already LOL

Works that inspired me to get this generic thing into writing: Lady Beast (i just read the latest chapters last night), Naruto Shippuuden (Miss Sakura Haruno herself), Coffee and Tea by Kevin Sheen Tiu (names of the characters); the title is from Meaghan Martin’s song from Camp Rock called 2 Stars heck I used it bc it seems like majority of the titles in recent comics are really long, so I thought why not make mine long too? LOL

Anyways here it is:

If We Believe that 2 Stars are Brighter than One

V.W. , Princess of -x- She’s been arranged to be married off to the Crown Prince of the -x- empire, infamously known as the Destroyer of Peace, K.S.

V monologue: For the past 17 years of my life I have done nothing but study and learn to be a proper lady. I hope my efforts will pay off.

V.W., however, is no ordinary princess. When she was 15, her father remarried when her mother died of unknown cause, and ever since she’s seen nothing but spite and disgust from her stepmother and stepsister.

On her debut as a princess, her father declared in front of the family that V. will be married off to K., the crown prince of the empire. The stepmother was infuriated and was against it, but she had no power over such decision.

V monologue: I’ll finally be free from those morbid people... Mother, please watch over me.

The day she arrives at the Imperial palace:

V: *curtsy* V. W., your highness.

K. looks back from the window and approaches her. He nears her and raises her right hand and kisses it. She blushes when he smirks at her.

K: K.S. From now on, you’ll be V.S.

He gave her the keys to the house, toured with her, etc.

V. is no ordinary princess. For the past 17 years of her life she has trained to become a proper lady. However, when her mother was still alive, she trained for something else. The secret she has kept...

V monologue: Keep calm. That’s what mother always says. “Calm...” How could I be calm when I’m confronted by such motherfvckers...

V. clenches her fist as she presents herself to the other noble ladies who were eyeing the crown prince but didn’t stand a chance. She knows they’re out for her neck. But surely she will never let them win. After all, she is a descendant of the wolves herself.

Her secret....

When she was 5 years old, her mother, a descendant of the W. empire, an empire people feared the most because of how dangerous people they were — they were known as a pack of “wolves” — possessing superhuman powers, trained her in secret how to use her inherited brute strength to crush her enemies. She gave V. a pair of gloves to use when she punches the ground into rubble, how much more when the time comes for her to face her enemies.

Kamelia: V., don’t ever use your strength as first line defense. Remember, you’ll be a lady of the imperial house some day. Keep your calm and stay steady.

..... love story between princess and prince....

> K. shookt at V’s beauty. Shiny black wavy hair, red eyes,rosy cheeks, fair skin, kissable lips, hourglass body. K= tall; deep golden hair, sky blue eyes, muscular build ie RIPPED

> The servants are easily charmed by V because she’s modest, kind to them, and they feel safe around her.

> Women from the same country as V., who were eyeing the prince, jealous of V... try to bully her, but V barks back with witty remarks. K always seems to find his way to her and snatches her.

> K and V’s first disagreement ever that almost resulted to V running away: K did not want V to go with him to a party because he was afraid she’d be bullied by the upperclass women again. V told him she could handle it.

> A visit from K’s close friend who takes a liking to V *red flag warning*

50 chapters in

Hunting competition. V was part of it because wives of the higher noblemen were required to participate, to show off their prowess. Someone plotted to assassinate the princess. V was alone in the woods because K was busy in another part of the forest.

She was surrounded by 15 men. Her escort was tied up when she didn’t look.

V: sigh... after all these years... *takes out her gloves and wears them* I can finally use what mother gave me *smirk*

V punches the ground and it shook, broke, and turned into rubble. The men were thrown away and died of the rocks hitting them.

The escort was stunned.

Ending of the hunting competition. News reach the prince that the princess is found nowhere in the hunting grounds. He was terrified, and disappointed at himself for not thinking more of her while the competition was ongoing.

Hours later, V appeared at the palace entrance, carrying her escort on her shoulder. Everyone was shocked.

K ran to her and embraced her with all his might.

K: I’ve been worried sick! Where did you go?!

V: I...

Knights came in and reported that they found bodies in the forest. The escort revealed what had happened to them, and this angered K, especially learning about the assassination plot. However, the escort explained to K that V was so strong that she defended both of them from the killers. This surprised K.

He looked at her.

V, with tears on her eyes, was silent. She was scared that this moment she’d been preparing for, the moment the crown prince would finally learn of her prowess, is finally happening.

K: You... You did all of that? (Face darkened)

V did not answer, her tears were flowing out of her eyes.

Suddenly K cupped her face and kissed her forehead, surprising V.

V: K...?!

V’s eyes widened. She was in awe that he did not mention what she had done. It’s like he disregarded it.

K, with a face so serious, said, “I will definitely find the person who plotted all of this and kill him myself.”

K was declared the winner.

....love story continues....

On the night after the celebration of the winner of the hunting competition, V told K the story about how her mother trained her, although he knew that her mother was a descendant of the infamous family(which was ACTUALLY the reason why he chose her to be his wife - for prestige, knowledge, infamy), he never thought V would undergo such things to use her inherited strength. He was impressed... and well, fell even more in love with her.

60th chapter

One morning, K invited V to the knights training grounds. He requested V to show him what she did on the hunting competition.

~~I’ll edit this when I feel like continuing it LOL ~~

#thoughts #fanfiction #story #novel #light novel #literature #fiction #romance #writing prompt #writing #godmothersthoughts

1 note · View note

themachiavellianpig · 5 years

Text

Prodigal Son, Episode 3: Everyone does say that Grad School is scary

Episode three of Prodigal Son and the only thing you have to fear is fear itself - unless you grew up in Malcolm Bright’s family, or take part in the wrong sort of university studies.

Spoilers below, mainly for the interesting bits!

First of all, I really am starting to enjoy the crime-fighting side of the show; Dani and JT could each do with a little more fleshing out as individual characters, but the group dynamic is settling into something that is rather lovely to watch. The scene of Malcolm arriving at a crime scene all ready to hand out lollipops stolen from his therapist is only topped by the moment of panic when he thinks he doesn’t have enough for Dr Tanaka - or maybe by the fact that Gil spends the rest of the scene with a lollipop in his mouth.

The actual crime this week was, I think, linked a little more convincingly to the outgoing arc of “What The Heck Is Happening to Malcolm Bright”; this may just be because I am definitely a fan of the irony of a consultant who struggles with night-terrors severe enough to propel him out of a flipping window investigating a crime involving top-level fear research. The lead-researcher’s questionable ethics makes the Surgeon’s high regard for her all the funnier, and also allows her to consult with Malcolm on his own pet project. Look, someone had to advise Malcolm to use the smell of chloroform to trigger repressed memories, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the adorable child therapist that Malcolm still sees despite being twice the age of all her other patients.

The crime aspect of the episode also allows us to add another item to our list of “Things Which Malcolm Bright Should Not Do at Crime Scenes”: throw victims off roofs. Seriously, I am not even kidding, but I am hopeful that this will continue to be held over his head in future episodes.

Of course, as in previous episodes, the crime of the week is just an excuse for us to poke around a little more in Malcolm’s messed up family, and currently I genuinely think that his mother might actually be more concerning than the serial-killer father.

We get to see the Jessica Whitley method of parenting pretty clearly in this episode - this is a woman who fully expects to be able to control her children, and quickly become downright nasty when that control is threatened. Her exasperation that Malcolm changed the locks is funny at first, but her speed at pointing out that she owns the building her son lives in is a little too threatening even for this family. When challenged for withholding information about the Surgeon from her daughter, Jessica’s response is that she did what she had to in order to ensure that Ainsley slept soundly at night - a maternal claim which is instantly undercut by the blatant emotional manipulation of “You can thank me any time you like”.

Thanks to a well-executed flashback, we also get to see Jessica and Martin interacting properly, just after the lie of their happy life had begun to be washed away. The opening scene of the episode allows us a look at the early days of this post-Surgeon Jessica, who is already reflecting on her ‘old’ life. She speaks with a certain amount of elegance of the life she assumed she was going to have, a life in which she would overlook things and make sacrifices - a life in which, I think, she was preparing herself for marital infidelity, for overlooking the way her husband looked at other women, for sacrificing some part of her dignity in exchange for being kept in the manner to which she was accustomed. Instead, she may have overlooked her husband’s crimes and sacrificed other people’s lives in order to preserve her own way of life.

And, of course, the question from the audience remains the same whether they’re watching an affair or an arrest: How could the wife not have known? How could she not have realised what her husband was doing with those girls?

This central question of what Jessica knew when is directly thrown in her face by Martin, who seems to have more visitors than he knows what to do with these days. His accusation that he “did what I had to in order to fulfil those needs. To keep me happy. To provide you with the life you wanted. Oh, you knew what I was” could be the barefaced truth, or it could be a cruel lie designed to play on the guilt of a woman he tricked more than anyone. There’s a fine line between “I should have known” and “why didn’t I know?” and Martin is unreasonably good at finding and exploiting those weak spots.

I also find myself wondering over Jessica’s very real and obvious fear over the last three episodes that she is going to lose Malcolm - I had assumed that she was worried about losing Malcolm to the influence of his father, of the Surgeon corrupting her son as some sort of final victim, a feeling which was supported by her conversation with Gil partway through this episode. But her pleading with Martin made me consider another possibility - that Martin, through contact with Malcolm, could reveal something that would cost Jessica her son in a very different way - that he could drive Malcolm away from his monster of a mother just as she had tried to drive Malcolm away from his monster of a father.

This conversation between Jessica and Martin also allowed us to see perhaps the most dangerous side of the Surgeon yet - the caring, reasonable, family man: “Malcolm’s going to be just fine. You did well, Jessica. I am so proud of him, and of Ainsley, and of you, for raising our beautiful children. It must have been so hard. Thank you.” Micheal Sheen’s delivery of this line is absolutely spot on, tricking both the audience and his former wife into letting their guard down. Jessica’s violent and terrified reaction when she realises that Martin is now close enough to touch her is a brilliant reminder of just how dangerous this man really is and how easily he can get past people’s defences.

But we already know that Martin is dangerous, and we know that he killed dozens of innocent people before being turned into the police by his own son, and so I remain far more interested in Jessica at the moment - especially as the last scene of the episode reveals that she did know, at the very least, that there was more going on in her husband’s ‘hobby room’ than anyone would comfortable admitting in court.

Of course, Prodigal Son might be doing too good a job of making Jessica look guilty as hell - she could be trying to hide something other than her own guilt. Maybe she really is trying to protect Malcolm from other memories, other victims that Malcolm wasn’t able to save from his father, or maybe even from Malcolm being somehow directly involved in the crimes of his father. Maybe she was just a scared and desperate woman who knew on some level that her husband was a monster, but chose to protect her children above all others. Maybe she just doesn’t want her children to think as little of her as she may think of herself.

Either way, it looks like we’ll get some more puzzle pieces next week, and I can’t wait to try and fit them into place.

#prodigal son #episode review #episode recap #michael sheen #tom payne #themachiavellianpig watches

7 notes · View notes