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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

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Backup- Malcolm Bright x OC

Malcolm Bright x Elena Nadis

Description: Malcolm’s biggest sin was his brash decisions. This time, it almost cost him someone that he loves.

Word Count: 2.2k

There had been five victims thus far. All women who lived in Holly Oaks, a gated community in the suburbs, and all women who left behind a husband, a son and a daughter. It was B&E through the backdoor, security alarms deactivated, and they were kidnapped all while the rest of the families were out, their bodies showing up just three days later. There seemed to be no connection between any of them aside from the same living situation and family dynamic.

It had been a difficult case for the entire team, but it affected no one more than Malcolm. He was becoming frustrated. The case should be easy for him, it should have been solved at least a week ago, yet here they were. It irritated him enough that Gil suggested that everyone take the night off, saying that they all needed it. Though Malcolm was hesitant, Elena suggested that they finally go to that new Italian restaurant near his apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t object and they had a nice night out. On the way home, they continued their conversation.

“I just think that my mother should wait until I’m ready for her to meet you, not the other way around Elena,” Malcolm defended as Elena drove to their shared apartment.

“Maybe, but you know how Jessica is, when she wants something, she gets it,” she giggled, which made the man beside her sigh.

“Believe me, I know. She’s always been a bit overbearing, I just don’t want you to be intimidated by her.”

“I highly doubt that I’ll be intimidated,” she retorted, earning a scoff from Malcolm. “Besides, she’s just protective of her son, it’s understandable. More often than not, a mother’s love is everlasting no matter what happens in the family. Her eyes glanced over to her boyfriend when he suddenly perked up.

“No matter what happens in the family,” Malcolm repeated in a mumble, which made her eyebrows knit together.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” She inquired as she turned onto their street.

“Elena I know this is a random request but I need you to go back to Lawrence Jenner’s house,” he instructed quickly.

“The security guard at Holly Oaks? Why? Are you wanting to add a member to our relationship?” She joked, though she turned the car around anyway. Malcolm shook his head without laughing, which let Elena know that he was deep in thought.

“Mal, what have you figured out?”

“I knew that I recognized his name,” Malcolm mumbled, getting on his phone and going to Google, finding what he was looking for a moment later. “Ten years ago Lawrence Jenner was involved in a domestic murder,” he began, reading off his phone. “His father, Warren killed his daughter, Lawrence’s sister Sarah after taking physical abuse too far. Lawrence was just a kid so he saw the whole thing, and during his interview, he was mad that his mom Miranda let the abuse go that far. Miranda died not long after Sarah and Warren died of a heart attack almost a month ago.”

“That’s when the murders began, that must have been his stressor,” Elena realized. “He never got to have closure with his dad or his mom before they died. I bet he’s targeting women who let abuse continue in their households.”

“He sees them as surrogates, but he’s become jaded now,” Malcolm continued. “If he sees a father even remotely act anything less than nice to his kids, he goes after the mother because she lets it go.”

“Call Gil, we’re almost there,” Elena instructed firmly as they reached Lawrence's street.

“There’s no time Lena,” the man shot back, barely waiting for the car to stop before he hopped out. He opened the back door of the car and grabbed his gun.

“Malcolm! We need to wait for backup,” she snapped. The man disregarded her anger and shot her a small smile.

“You’re my backup,” he responded simply before closing the door and running to Lawrence’s front door.

“Malcolm, dammit-” she huffed before grabbing her gun and following after him. She reached him just in time for him to bang on the front door.

“Lawrence Jenner, open up, this is the police,” he called.

“Go away!” The man yelled faintly from inside shortly before a gun shot blasted through the living room window followed by a woman crying out in fear. The couple covered each other before adjusting their guns in their hands.

“We’re coming in Lawrence,” Elena called as a warning before nodding at Malcolm. The man nodded then kicked the door in. They ran in at the same time surveying the area before Elena spotted Lawrence and the latest missing woman, Shelley, in the living room. Upon spotting the couple, Lawrence pulled Shelley up by her hair and held her against him, his gun directly against her temple.

“Stay back, I will shoot her,” Lawrence warned menacingly.

“No please don’t,” Shelley whimpered, which prompted the killer to yell at her to shut up. Slowly, Malcolm lowered his gun.

“Alright, look Lawrence. I’m setting my gun down. See?” He placed the gun on a nearby table then lifted his now free hands. “I’m telling you right now, you don’t want to do this.” Elena followed his lead and lifted her free hands as well.

“She let her husband hurt them,” Lawrence cried, bumping the barrel of the gun against Shelley’s head.

“I didn’t,” she cried out, which prompted Elena to hold her hands up.

“Shelley, I'm gonna need you to calm down,” she instructed firmly. “Don’t make this any worse than it has to be.” The woman sniffled then nodded.

“O-Okay…”

“Now Shelley, you need to apologize,” Malcolm instructed in the same tone as his girlfriend.

“What?” The woman exclaimed, which earned a glare from Elena.

“Shelley, you let your husband hurt your kids,” she explained the woman’s role slowly. “Now you need to apologize to Lawrence for what you did wrong.” She was internally grateful when the woman seemed to understand what was going on.

“Law-Lawrence, I’m sorry,” she said carefully. “I...I shouldn’t have let it go on, and I’m so sorry.” The man’s grip around her loosened just a bit, but it was still progress.

“That’s not good enough!” He cried out, which only made Shelley cry harder.

“You killing her isn’t gonna bring Sarah back,” Malcolm pointed out gently. “You know what your father did to her, and now everyone else does. Just let her go, and people will understand what scum your father was.” Lawrence considered his words, his gun lowering a bit.

“You’ll tell them what happened?” He asked hopefully. Malcolm nodded firmly.

“They’ll know everything,” he answered without hesitation. That was the nudge that Lawrence needed to finally lower his gun and let Shelley go. The woman stumbled into Elena’s arms and she hugged her soothingly.

“You did great,” she muttered comfortingly, rubbing her back. Shelley nodded shakily then they watched as Malcolm grabbed handcuffs from his back pocket. The sight of the cuffs had apparently freaked Lawrence out because before anyone could stop him, he lifted his gun and aimed it directly at Malcolm.

“Wait!”

“Malcolm!” Elena screamed, sprinting over to him as the man pulled the trigger. A searing pain entered the right side of Elena’s chest and she fell to the ground, gasping for air. Faintly, she heard another gunshot before Malcolm appeared in her line of sight.

“Call an ambulance!” He yelled at Shelley before taking off his jacket and pressing it to his girlfriend’s chest, making her hiss from the pain.

“Stay with me Lena,” he instructed softly but firmly. “Help will be here soon. Just hang in there darling.” Elena could barely process his words, but nodded nonetheless.

“Did you get him?” She questioned softly, searching for his free hand. Malcolm smiled soothingly then nodded.

“Yeah, we got him,” he responded gently, taking her hand in his. “But now I need you to stay awake, okay?”

“It’s hard,” she whined.

“I know, but you just need to be awake a little longer. Can you do that for me?” Elena nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it. Malcolm continued to talk to her until the ambulance and the rest of the team arrived. Gill had to hold him back when the paramedics took her away. Before the doors closed though, Elena’s eyes fell closed and she succumbed to her exhaustion.

Elena woke up to a dimly lit room, which she was thankful for because she had a major headache. A dull ache emitted from her chest that made her lift her hand to touch it, only to wince as her fingers brushed over a bandage.

“Careful Lena, you’re still healing,” she heard Gil’s voice coming from beside her. Her head turned just enough to look around the room. Gil and Edrisa were standing on the left side of her bed while JT and Dani were sitting in the only two chairs of her hospital room to the right of her. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looked around at her friends.

“Where’s Malcolm?” She asked, voice hoarse. Edrisa took that as her cue to hold out a paper cup with water in it for her.

“Wow, I see how it is,” JT joked. “You’re in a room full of your friends but you still wonder where your boyfriend is.” Elena had to try not to laugh as Edrisa helped her take a drink before her friend set it on the bedside table. Gil rolled his eyes but smiled at the interaction.

“I made him go get food. He hasn’t eaten since you were brought in last night. You really gave all of us a scare, you know.” Elena sighed.

“Yeah, well you can blame Malcolm for that. You know how he is when it comes to stuff like this.” The group shared a knowing look.

“Don’t I know it,” Dani huffed, but smiled afterwards. “Don’t worry though, he got an earful from all of us while you were out.”

“That’s at least half the work off my shoulders,” the girl joked. “Can someone go get him though? I’m sure he’d like to know that I’m awake.” JT nodded and offered to do it. Elena thanked him shortly before he walked out then took another sip of water. They barely had to wait a minute before the door quite suddenly burst open. Everyone flinched, Elena groaning afterwards because of the movement.

“Oh thank god,” Malcolm breathed out in relief from the doorway. He walked over to the girl’s bed as JT appeared in the doorway, looking out of breath.

“You’re a lot faster than you look, Bright,” he panted, resting his hands on his knees. While the others laughed, Malcolm and Elena didn’t take notice of it. They faintly heard Gil tell the others to give the couple a minute before they were left alone in the room.

“How are you feeling?” Malcolm asked softly. Elena merely shrugged.

“Like I got shot in the shoulder,” she responded humorously. She was proud when that got a small chuckle out of her boyfriend before he took her hand.

“Elena, I am so sorry,” he started, but the girl held up her free hand to stop him.

“Don’t you start that Malcolm,” she demanded gently. “You didn’t know that Lawrence would shoot, you can’t just blame yourself.”

“But we wouldn’t have been there without backup if I had just waited,” he pointed out.

“I could have waited in the car,” she shot back. “In fact, I could have just not driven to his house. We both made mistakes and now we deal with the consequences together.” Malcolm sighed, but he knew she was right, so he nodded.

“Okay, as long as we’re both okay.”

“Which we are,” Elena added with a pointed look before leaning back in bed. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company until Elena spoke.

“Hey Malcolm,” she called softly, successfully catching his attention. “I think we may have to take a raincheck on dinner with your mom.” She giggled, but stopped when Malcolm offered her an awkward smile.

“What?”

“Well, about that,” he started, but was cut off by a woman’s voice right outside the door.

“Malcolm, can I come in?” Jessica called sweetly, which made Elena look at the man in question with wide eyes. His nervous smile stayed as he watched her reaction.

“She wanted to bring us dinner,” he explained. Elena covered her face with her hands then groaned loudly.

“Mal I’m not presentable!” She exclaimed, which made him laugh.

“You look beautiful no matter what darling,” he soothed, carefully moving her hands away. “We can deal with her together.” Elena jokingly glared at him.

“You don’t get to turn my words back on me, Malcolm Bright.” He shrugged then pecked her lips.

“Oh well, you’ll do great anyway,” he didn’t give her any time to reply before he faced the door. “Come on in mom.” Elena grabbed his hand once more with a nervous smile on her face. Malcolm offered her a comforting grin as Jessica walked in with several bags of food.

“Hello! You must be Elena,” she greeted politely as she set the bags down. Elena and Malcolm internally took a deep breath as they prepared for what the rest of the night had to offer.

#prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #prodigal son fanfiction #malcolm bright #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright x oc

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marieiswishingon-a-star · 1 year

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My Story If I was a Replicant Blade Runner story - Part 1

I sat on a cold metal bar stool of my table sipping my strawberry daiquiri with my pink lips through a straw, my long blonde hair blowing softly in the wind. The night air was cool and dark with a light mist. Bright lights everywhere my home Los Angeles is dark for the most part. It is rare to see a ray of sunshine. I only have one memory the Tyrell Corporation placed in my memory. It's my 8th birthday I’m wearing blue overalls and purple shirt. I 'm playing in a park on a sunny day with monarch butterflies flying around me. I’v survived being a replicant for a while now. Being one of the older models I have a number imprinted inside my green eyes. I have managed to keep my head down and stayed away from LAPD notice. I still don't know why old man Tyrell made me. I am not a pleasure model or a solider for war. Tyrell died before I was told what my purpose was. But aren't we all looking for purpose in life? It's still a mystery to me. My life span has lasted longer than most replicant's.

I look like every other woman in her mid 20's with an athletic build. Feeling a chill I pulled my dark fur lined coat closer to me to protect me from the cold rain and the thieves. Los Angeles is my home. I have no plans to leave. Besides where else would I go? Getting a ticket off world these days costs you an arm and a leg literally. I made my living by searching for old relics making them look new and selling them to humans for a high price. They ate it up. You would be amazed at how many relics I can sell to a human in a day. It kept a roof over my head and nice clothes on my back. I was even able to find a pink blouse. It is my favorite to wear.

Every Friday night I stopped at this outside bar for my end of the week drink. I can still feel the man’s eyes on me. He's been following me. I noticed him a few days ago. I was hoping he would go away. He has not. He has dark blonde hair and dark blue eyes. His image is plaster in my brain. His eyes are intense when he looks at me. He’s wearing gray trousers and black shirt and a long black coat today and he is tall about 6 feet and handsome, in fact I can feel him looking at me now just be hide me he's drinking some kind of blue drink. I don't even have to turn around to know he is there. He looked strong O’ so strong with his wide chest and arms. He looked as if it would be nothing for him to take me down. Replicant’s do bleed and can feel pain so if he took my head off, it would hurt.

Why was he following me? is the question. Does he know I'm a replicant?

I knew how to mimic humans: their speech, I showered and wore clean clothes. Did he want to turn me in for the old Bounty that was still on my head? I thought the days of looking over my shoulder were over. I guess I was wrong. Finishing my drink, I got up and grabbed my purse and started running in a full sprint towards the busy streets. Hoping to lose him in the large crowd with the night covering me. One thing about replicant's we move fast when we need to. I ran down street after street hoping to lose the man. Luckly I was wearing boots and not high heels. As I turned another corner, I ran right into the man’s hard chest the very one I’m running from. I screamed I did not expect him to be so fast. He grabbed me and lifted me off of the ground into his arms and covered my mouth with his hand. I was helpless in his arms, he is so strong I could not break free of his grip arm right under my breasts. He placed us in a dark corner. His hot breath on my neck "someone’s coming" he said in a low voice. "Good I thought I can get away". When I saw who it was coming toward us, I stopped moving. It was Malcolm a true replicant hunter. overweight and mean wearing all black he had made a name for himself he didn't just take the eye of the replicant he caught he dismembered them. Word on the street was Malcolm got off on ripping replicant's apart. I held my breath and did not breath until Malcolm was gone from sight. I don't know why but I burst into tears knowing how close I came to a terrible death and yes, replicant’s can cry.

To be Continued.

#fantasy #bladerunner #ran out of time #short story #love this film #wrtting #Tyrell #write your heart out

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ingravinoveritas · 3 years

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What was interesting about tonight’s Prodigal Son was the contrast between the three main relationships that were highlighted: Gil/Jessica, Malcolm/Dani, and Martin/Vivian. To me it was the difference between trying to hold on to control (Malcolm and Martin) and letting go of control (Jessica). And where Malcolm wants to keep control because he’s afraid of Dani getting hurt, Martin wants to keep control so that he can hurt Vivian, or do whatever he needs to to manipulate her and find a way to escape. And then you have Gil and Jessica in that place of trust and love that is so the opposite of Martin and Vivian, where whatever their relationship is is entirely devoid of trust or love. So yes, the Martin fantasy scenes were awkward, but I thought it gave us a literal depiction of both the sexual lust and blood lust that he is feeling toward Dr. Catherine. Going by the previews, next week’s episode is going to be one hell of a ride...

#prodigal son #martin whitly #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #malcolm bright #tom payne #gil arroyo #lou diamond phillips #jessica whitly #bellamy young #dani powell #aurora perrineau #vivian capshaw #catherine zeta-jones #still not feeling Brightwell #also Edrisa is basically me and I love her #plz protect Edrisa at all costs #prodigal son 2x09 #the killabustas

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that-sarcastic-writer · 4 years

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Friendly reminder that Malcolm Bright deserves all the love in the world and deserves to be protected at all costs. And I love him to death, traumas and all.

#malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #prodigal son #malcolm bright deserves all the love #protect him at all costs

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tin-foil-hat-brigade · 4 years

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PRODIGAL SON THEORIES

If you’ve got any Prodigal Son theories, let us have ‘em and we’ll discuss them when we record our first podcast episode later today. Don’t worry, we always credit the owners of said theories and NEVER pretend fandom info is proprietary 😝😝

We’re just here to hang out, watch some TV, and talk about all the awesome theories floating around in your fandom!

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slothinginorbit · 5 years

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Petition to start a malcolm bright hug squad

Who's in?

#prodigal son #malcolm bright #malcolm needs to be protected at all cost #also from himself

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justabouteverythingfandom · 5 years

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malcolm handing out lollipops to the team

I LOVE YOUU

#protect him at all costs #mal deserves to be happy and take care of his mental health!#malcolm bright #prodigal son

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pricemarshfield · 3 years

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fresh as a daisy

Chapter 2/2. Requested by @renluthor: dani/ainsley angst/angry makeout?

Read on AO3 here.

Ainsley wakes up to a text from her brother and Dani pressed up against her, back to front. She's breathing slow and steady, like she doesn't have a care in the world. She does, of course--Ainsley's learned how crime scenes haunt her girlfriend(?) in the way she wakes up stiff and frozen, sometimes, like Ainsley does when she dreams about not-Endicott's blood on her hands. She's lied and said something about that time she got locked in Claremont, and Dani believed her, and that's the worst fucking part.

"I can hear you thinking from here," Dani murmurs, voice rumbling against Ainsley's chest. Ainsley doesn't jump, but it's a near thing. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says, too quickly, a lie meant to be caught.

Dani rolls over, eyes still hazy with sleep. "Come on, you can tell me."

Ainsley sighs, props her head up on her arm so she's leaning slightly over Dani. "I'm just worried about my meeting with the head reporter. He said he wants 'more' from my reports." It's easy enough to muster up annoyance about it, because she is annoyed with him.

"Carr?" Dani asks, and Ainsley grumbles, leans into Dani so she's pressed right into the crook of her neck. She could stay here for hours. "Fuck that guy."

Ainsley laughs, teeth scraping at Dani's skin mostly-on accident, and Dani shifts so that Ainsley's half-on top of her. "When do you have to go into work?"

"You're insatiable," Dani says with a little put-upon sigh that's as fake as the innocent expression Ainsley's definitely wearing right now.

"That's not actually an answer to my question," Ainsley says.

Dani doesn't respond for a second, and Ainsley pushes herself up to see a frown on her face. "In...less than an hour and a half, actually."

"Boo," Ainsley says, dramatically flopping back down. Dani's chest rumbles a little with laughter that Ainsley feels more than hears, and it's so fucking nice in a way that Ainsley's not used to yet, even after months of it all.

She hasn't looked at her phone yet. She knows it'll break the morning into something she has to deal with and not just luxuriate in.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" she asks instead, and Dani laughs.

"What, you're gonna cook?"

"Better than you," Ainsley says. "I didn't know you could burn toast that bad unless you were trying."

"You have all these weird 'smart' appliances, how is that my fault," Dani mutters. "I can make pancakes."

Ainsley hasn't had pancakes since she was young enough to still wear a bright pink dress with ruffles to school. "Sure."

Ainsley's mom had asked her to move back in, and she had been planning on it before--this, with Dani. She still goes back basically every day--she has a little study space in the basement--but it's nice to have a place that's hers.

And Dani's, in a way.

Dani has her own apartment, a place with chipped paint but plants everywhere, homey in a way that Ainsley hadn't thought was a real thing outside of home and garden magazines. She spends more nights than not here, though, and Ainsley's started to feel like the place is too big without her home.

She doesn't have a key yet. Ainsley has no idea when she should bring it up. If she should, even; there's that whole thing with the murder she got away with and Dani being a homicide detective.

Ainsley glances at her phone to see the text from Malcolm, complete with hidden message. She should check it. Dani's busy at the stove, it's the best time.

Dani hums some oldies song at the stove, the admittedly-weak smell of cooking pancakes wafting towards Ainsley, and she still can't bring herself to break the morning. Instead, she puts the phone facedown on the table, stands up, and wraps her arms around Dani from behind. Dani doesn't start or stiffen like she used to, when they were still figuring each other out.

"Is it supposed to look that lumpy?" Ainsley asks brightly.

"Yes," Dani says. "They're pancakes, it's not gonna be perfectly even."

"As long as they taste good," Ainsley says. She has to push herself up a little to rest her head against Dani's shoulder. It's not exactly comfortable, but she has no intentions of moving. Dani flips the pancakes with an expert little twist of the spatula, and Ainsley makes an impressed noise. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I worked at a diner in college," Dani says. "I was hired as a waitress, but I was way better behind the scenes." She shudders a little. "I hate customer service."

Ainsley's never had experience with customer service. She's thankful for that, but it does mean she doesn't have anything she can add, so she just hums agreement into Dani's shoulder. They sit and sway sway to the sound of pancakes cooking and their breathing for a little longer.

Dani covers her pancakes in almost as much syrup as Malcolm used to, and at Ainsley's disbelieving look, laughs, and says, "Really, you should try it!"

Ainsley does, if only so she can prove herself right, but it does end up being pretty tasty.

"Don't tell Malcolm," Ainsley says, ignoring all of her etiquette training to talk with her mouth full because she knows it'll make Dani smile. Sure enough, she does, and Ainsley feels this warm glow in her chest she's still not used to. "He'll be so smug."

"Really?" Dani says. "He doesn't seem the type."

Ainsley feels something twist in her stomach, remembering how horrified Malcolm was when he'd figured out that she faked it. She stands by it, of course she does, but yikes. He'd lied to her, why does she feel bad? There's the text she's ignoring, the worry around that...that's probably it.

Still, she can hardly check it with Dani at the table, so she smiles at her and says, "That's just 'cause he always had a soft spot for you."

There's an awkward beat of silence where both of them sit in the reality of that being true in a way that's completely at odds with them sitting across the table for each other, half-dressed and warm.

"I do have to head to work," Dani says after awhile, and Ainsley frowns as if she doesn't want her to go. In reality, she could use the time to check her texts, figure out how she's going to present herself when Dani gets home. Tired, probably, but not too tired, she's still working from home as much as she can. Happy to see her--that part she doesn't even have to fake.

"Aw," Ainsley says. "You coming back here after?"

"Of course," Dani says easily, like it's nothing to just let someone else in her life the way Ainsley's been letting her here.

Ainsley's not sure what tugs at her heart just then, but she's pretty sure it's not a good thing. Dani heads to the bedroom to get dressed while Ainsley finishes her pancakes. The syrup's significantly less enjoyable now that they're cold, sticking to her mouth in a way that makes her want to toss them in the trash.

Dani's not looking. She could.

She stares down at them for awhile too long, chewing on the mush in her mouth until she wants to gag. When Dani walks out of the room again, she looks up, forces herself to swallow, and smiles. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," Dani says, pressing a quick, casual kiss to Ainsley's cheek. Ainsley wants her to linger, but instead she rushes out. Ainsley has to get up and lock the door behind her, and she stands there, staring blankly at the front door of her own apartment for a bit.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket again, and she unlocks it. Something about a private investigator, because of course it's about a fucking private investigator. She just knows Malcolm's gonna lord this over her, talk about how this is proof he didn't overstep when he was trying to protect her. Biting back an annoyed reply--she has to give him the benefit of the doubt, save the rudeness for when he fucks up--she texts back something about meeting tomorrow.

Today she's trying to do something for Dani.

One: her apartment's always neat, but she remembers being told that neatness was onto holiness at her etiquette schools, and the lesson's hard to shake, so she cleans. She's not down on hands and knees scrubbing the floors or anything, but the place looks a little nicer, and she's proud of it.

Two: something Dani will care about a little more. She goes the extra mile--lights candles, gets flowers, is polite (if direct) with the restaurant worker on the phone who'll get something delivered to her door. The candles are warm, smoky scents that are a far cry from the crisp, clear ones Ainsley favors, but Dani had murmured stories about a campfire into her shoulder once, tracing her freckles, and Ainsley hopes she'll like that she remembered. The flowers aren't roses. Dani had a story about some ex who got her roses that Ainsley winced in sympathy at even as her sides hurt from laughing so hard. So she got orchids, as expensive as they are hard to keep happy. (It's a little on the nose, but Ainsley is her parents' daughter, and drama is the easier vice to indulge.)

The food is the part Dani will like the most, Ainsley's guessing. The thoughtful, almost-metaphorical gestures are Ainsley's thing, always unsure with how to give affection without giving too much away. Food, though, is an almost universal love language--Dani making pancakes in her kitchen, Ainsley buying her wines that cost more than Dani's rent. Plus, Dani likes Thai, and Ainsley hasn't had good tom yum in too long.

She gets this all ready by 10am, and finds herself bored by 10:03.

Ainsley would normally go bother Malcolm about a case, but Dani hasn't texted her anything interesting, so it's not worth the effort of dealing with his panic over this investigator guy. She does care about him, and she does worry, but just--God, he'd lied to her for ages. It's hardly like she's incompetent. She'd handled things just fine, hadn't she?

There's a bitter twist in her stomach, and she pauses, considers it for a second before choosing not to look at it too closely.

She goes to lunch with her mother, who talks around Ainsley and Dani as best she can while still prying for information. Ainsley ignores the more back-handed comment about her always wanting her brother's things and says, "We're having dinner tonight, actually."

"Oh, where are you going?" her mother says. "I can get you a reservation if you don't have one. There's that new French place on--"

"We're staying in," Ainsley interrupts, something she'd have gotten a ruler on the knuckles for if she'd tried it back in etiquette school. "Sorry."

"Oh," her mother says. "Well. We are quite different, aren't we?"

Ainsley shifts in her seat, immediately, uncomfortably aware that there's something hidden behind her words that she can't quite make out. "Not that different. You--" She cuts herself off, which is also rude, but she's pretty sure her mother would have slapped her if she'd finished saying you made compromises in your relationship, too. "You, uh, would have a home dinner if Gil asked."

Her mother finishes her drink without looking at Ainsley, cheeks a little pink. "Ainsley..."

"I'm just saying," Ainsley says, turning back to her food with a grin.

Working from home--the one thing the pandemic brought that Ainsley's happy to hold onto--is great, but she can't deny the little rush of productivity she gets from being in the office again, even if she's just waiting in a hard plastic chair to talk with a man she hates. He's got to listen to her about this private investigator thing, though; he always listens to her when it comes to crime stories.

She used to get pissed about it, she's more than her father's daughter, but...well. Hoxley's here to investigate a murder she did, so.

Not that she plans to include that in her pitch.

When he finally waves her in, thirty minutes after their meeting was supposed to start, she can feel her smile is a little brittle around the edges. He looks up at her through his glasses, which badly need to be cleaned, and says, "What've you got, Whitly?"

"There's a private investigator here in town," she says quickly. "According to my sources, he's here to figure out who killed Nicholas Endicott."

"Your sources," Carr says, looking at something on his laptop. Ainsley's fingers twitch. "Your brother or your girlfriend?"

"...my brother," she says, knowing better than to tell Carr that her sources are private, even if that's what every ethics in journalism conference tells them. Carr thinks he's above it all.

She wonders who he'd assign her story to, if it ever came out. Leslie doesn't do the crime beat. No one does the crime beat except for her. He'd probably take it himself, try and get a Pulitzer, squander the research completely, and make her look innocent. Hm. It would help in court.

It's not healthy that she's thinking this, she knows, but at least she can talk to her dad about it later.

"Endicott died ages ago, why now?"

"His head surfaced in a lake somewhere," Ainsley says.

"Find out where. You're good, take the camera crew."

Ainsley smiles at him. "Thank you, sir."

He waves her out rather than even do her the courtesy of addressing her.

Dick.

Reporting is invigorating, as it always is, and she gets to wave at her brother before the cameras turn on. He looks panicked when he spots her, but whatever, she's literally here to do her job. She goes into autopilot, reporting the facts as she knows them--Simon Hoxley is here, he's researching Endicott, and there's caution tape preventing her crew from getting closer to this boat. When the camera operator turns as if to film the boat, she quickly gestures them back, hands low enough that it shouldn't be broadcasted. Can't he spot the body there? They'll get sued.

Also, she wants to be on camera. It's not like she got her degree in journalism because she dislikes attention.

They're able to chat with Hoxley for just a second, and he looks at her with a polite disinterest that is simultaneously heartening and discouraging. Pros: he doesn't suspect her. Cons: she's not even worth suspecting, the fuck? He's already glaring at Malcolm. Malcolm's everyone's focus.

At least, everyone but Dani, and she shouldn't feel so much vindictive little pride in that. Dani smiles at her when she passes by, rushing after the chaos that is her squad on a case. Ainsley grabs her hand and squeezes it quickly while the cameraman's busy catching Gil passing by. Dani beams at her, and Ainsley's heart thuds a little heavy in her chest.

She drops her hand, switches back to reporter mode, and concludes her broadcast with something about Hoxley getting to the bottom of this, and be sure to tune in for updates on the case.

The day drags by after that, giving bland check-ins to the camera while getting bizarre text updates about it all from Malcolm. Dani doesn't text at work unless it's important, and Ainsley finds herself hoping nothing comes up so that their dinner isn't postponed. She just wants to spend some time with her--whatever Dani is.

They should probably work that out.

Carr just grumbles when she checks in with him at the end of the day to see if there's anything else she needs to do, so she takes it as she's free and heads home. The taxi driver makes small talk with her about her broadcasts, and while he doesn't seem to understand that she is not involved in actually solving the murders, it's the most someone other than Dani or her brother has talked with her about the day-to-day of what she does in months. She tips like $600, because who the hell cares, it's her mom's money anyway.

Then she rushes around the apartment getting the few things ready that she couldn't do in the morning--actually lighting the candles, setting the table, restraining herself from setting more than one of each utensil on the table, getting the food where it's left outside her apartment when her phone dings to let her know, remembering to tip the driver right away, and getting the food on the table.

God, she hopes Dani gets here soon. The food smells good and her lunch with her mother wasn't exactly filling. One thing Dani's taught her is how ridiculous rich people portions are. (Dani's words, not hers.)

It's not ten minutes later when Ainsley hears Dani's hand on the handle, and realizes shit, she forgot to light the candles. She scrambles to get at least the one on the table. She turns to grab the lighter and hears Dani say, "Uh."

She whirls around. "Hi."

"Hi," Dani says with a soft smile. "What's all this?"

"You treated me to breakfast, so," Ainsley says.

"You didn't have to do this," Dani says, looking at the Thai on the table, smile not dropping or dimming in the slightest.

"I know," Ainsley says. "I wanted to."

"You're sweet," Dani says, and walks over to pull her into a kiss. "Do you really only have these long lighters?"

"I don't smoke and I don't like the small ones, I'm always worried I'm gonna burn myself," Ainsley says, and Dani laughs and lights the candle on the table for her.

The dinner's perfect, and Ainsley gets to vent about Carr not caring about her reporting beyond profits at all and Dani gets to talk about how ridiculous Hoxley and her brother were acting all day and Ainsley gets to bite down a joke about thumbs that she couldn't explain. Dani sneaks some of Ainsley's food off her plate, Ainsley smacks her hand away, and Dani shakes her hand as if it hurts while failing to suppress a smile.

Normally, this is the part of the night where Ainsley would pull Dani into bed, or into the shower while Dani gripes about the jeans being new. But the night feels warm and soft and Ainsley just wants to hold her.

"You've got me completely messed up," Ainsley says, and when Dani looks up at her, a bit of sauce on her lips, she can see she doesn't understand what she means. "I mean, like." She huffs. "I never felt like this in any of my, uh."

"Relationships?" Dani suggests.

"Are we? In one, I mean," Ainsley says, tapping her foot against the floor, an anxious tic she's had as long as she can remember.

"I'd like to be," Dani says slowly, and Ainsley knows what that cautious expression means. She's pretty sure she has it, too. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Ainsley says, and Dani relaxes. "Also, you've got some sauce on your lips." She wipes it off absent-mindedly, and Dani leans across the table to kiss her. The angle's awkward, but Ainsley's smiling into the kiss too much to mind.

The rest of the night is just idle, easy conversation. Ainsley feels light, giddy. Dani's arm around her shoulders, Ainsley's hand in Dani's, the dim mood of the candlelight. It's all perfect.

Still, at the end of the night Ainsley can't quite sleep, even as Dani snoozes peacefully next to her. She's not sure why. Everything's perfect. Dani's here, Dani's officially her girlfriend, she's getting to do her report on Hoxley, her and Malcolm got away with it. Every piece of her life is fitting together just fine.

"Babe?" Dani says, and Ainsley turns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says grumpily. "I just can't sleep. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," Dani says, already half-asleep again. "Sleep soon."

"I'll try," Ainsley whispers, staring at Dani. The easy acceptance, the give-and-take--it's new, but Ainsley loves it. She feels like she could tell her anything.

Oh. Dammit.

Seriously? she thinks to/at herself. You're upset we can't confess our murder? Fucking ridiculous. That's a normal thing to not tell someone. I mean, Dad--

Ainsley abruptly sits up, goes to take a shower. That's not--she can't think like that. There's unhealthy and there's self-sabotage, and that barrels over the line at lightspeed. Jesus.

Still, she turns back to look at Dani as she closes the bathroom door--slow, so as not to wake her again--and she can't help but think on it for far too long, staring at the tiles of her shower with a bitterness she wishes she could bite back.

She should text Malcolm. But he and Dani--that's still too fresh a wound. It's not like she can talk to her mom about it. And Dad...

The only reason she can think of not to is Dani would be disappointed. But that's enough.

Probably.

#my fics #renluthor #request #dansley #dani powell #ainsley whitly #prodigal son #daisy #fic: fresh as a daisy

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notgonnarememberthis · 4 years

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And Isn’t It Love?

Hello!! This is so far off brand but again, I blame Em. We got on a soft train and I couldn't help but write this. This is a companion piece to the story "Doesn't this have a name" (previously titled "Take it back" but I changed it after I realized I wanted these to be a series. The first involved Jessica realizing that she was in love with gil so I figured, why the hell not flip the script and write the opposite side of it? This is a HELL of a lot softer than the original but I still very much enjoyed writing it and I hope y'all like it to.

Gil is beginning to think that any case that comes across his desk is doomed to never be as simple as it appears first hand. If not the case itself, then keeping Bright within eyesight was enough to make more grey appear in his hair by the end of the day. Hell, keeping an eye on any of the Whitlys has stressed him out more than he’d like to admit.

Which is why it pained him to turn down Jessica’s invitation to be her date to the debutante of yet another New York socialite. The case got messy quickly and he didn’t have the time was his primary reason. Still he could see the guilt in her eyes, a long forgiven conversation still present in her mind. Truth be told it’s still present in his too.

Not because he holds anything against her. The thing is she’s absolutely right. He doesn’t do well in that world. He’s not a fan of small talk or any of the business that’s so wrapped in each one. Jessica, however, she thrives there. Watching her bounce effortlessly from person to person with a magnetic smile on her face is breathtaking.

And then her world fell apart.

Finally seeing her build her way back up again after so long drifting meaninglessly from place to place. It’s wonderful to see.

He hated that he had to miss it.

So when Malcolm, of all people, said he was too busy to go undercover at the debutante after they’d discovered that one of the suspects may attend the party, he grew a little suspicious. Even more so when after a long day at work he found Malcolm already inside his apartment with a tailor, of all things.

“I have a suit.”

“A suit.” Malcolm had scoffed. “This is a debutante you need more than a suit. And besides, don’t you want it to be a good surprise.”

Honestly they should’ve known better than thinking they could keep the new relationship a secret for long. Between Malcolm and Ainsley one of them would grow suspicious and fast. All it would take is a moment that is questionable to either of them. They’d immediately run and tell the other and their whole cover would be blown.

He fixes his tie for the hundredth time as he steps out of his car, the valet immediately extending his hand to take the keys. It took all of his willpower not to immediately turn him down. This was his third car in the past 2 years, he can’t help but be a little protective. He hands the younger man the keys with a polite grin before heading inside.

He’s almost immediately overwhelmed by the amount of people inside. Constant movement threatens to pull him into the waves of the motion and he suddenly feels awfully uncertain of this whole thing.

It’s for the case, he reminds himself, pushing head on into the chaos.

Finding her in the crowd is easy. He gravitates towards the sound of her laugh. It’s her flighty, fake one, but it pulls him to her all the same. He watches her from afar for a minute, unable to contain the smile on his face. Standing there in a deep green gown that probably costs more than his monthly paycheck, she looks absolutely in her element. As if the 20 years of isolation hadn’t even dented her.

The man she’s speaking to points in his direction, having caught him staring. The look on her face was absolutely worth every second of being poked and prodded the night before, and definitely worth the swarm of people brushing past him. The look of utter shock and a softness normally reserved only for Malcolm and Ainsley.

She doesn’t even say goodbye in her hurry to get to him. Her hands find his chest and he can almost see her mind connecting the dots. “What are you doing here?” She half shouts over the constant music and conversation of others. “I thought you had a case.”

He thinks about telling her the truth for a second, that he’s meant to be observing one of the patrons of the family. He doesn’t want to kill her excitement so he decides against it. “I wanted to surprise you.”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “You know I’m used to Malcolm skipping out on me, but I should’ve known something was up when Ainsley declined my invitation.” She leans forwards, kissing him lightly. “Thank you for coming.” Her soft tone barely carries over the music. His hand cups her face, his thumb stroking her cheek softly.

“Of course Jess.” She turns her head, placing a kiss on his palm.

Jessica takes his hand in hers pulling him across the room. “Come on, let’s dance.” He tries to put up an argument. He hasn’t danced in years, he’ll only step on her toes, but she doesn’t take no for an answer.

It’s far from the proper form, elegant movements swirling around them. Any time they bump awkwardly or he steps on her dress she lets out a laugh. A real one, one that makes him so bad about his lack of skills. He loosens up, allowing the movements to flow more naturally, less worried about the people around them and more of the woman in his arms.

And then he remembers why he’s supposed to be here. He glances around the room again, spying curly dark hair dipping through the crowd, he could’ve sworn… Then he spies Malcolm leaning against a bannister. The kid smiles at him flashing him a thumbs up.

He’d been set up.

“What are you looking at?” Jessica asks, turning her head to see. It’s too late, Malcolm has already disappeared into the crowd to actually look for the man that they needed to question. He shakes his head slightly.

“Shouldn’t you be socializing.” He half jokes, “Not everyday you get an invitation like this.”

“Please.” She half grins leaning in slightly. “This is hardly a debutante. They don’t even have canapés.” He rolls his eyes but her expression grows serious, if only for a moment. “I don’t care about them.” Her eyes flash over his shoulder, breaking eye contact with the weight of the confession. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, with you.” His chest swells, a soft almost embarrassed smile crosses her face.

Catching her off guard, he gives her a spin. She shrieks surprised but to her credit, she falls into it naturally. She tosses her head back with a laugh as he pulls her back in. The moment is so small but it nearly knocks him off of his feet. He’s struck suddenly by the realization.

Love should frighten him. He’s loved and lost it all in such a short time. Much shorter than either he or Jackie deserved. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Jessica could ever even admit to being in love, not after all that’s happened to her. Love had hurt him, but it nearly buried her alive.

And yet she’s still here. Crashing clumsily into his chest and dissolving into uncontrollable laughter as they rock in place to the song. His own chuckles bubble beneath the surface as he holds her tightly.

Yes, he’s loved and he’s lost before. That’s why he’s not letting her go.

#prodigal son #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #jessica whitly x gil arroyo #gilssica #why is the ship name so ugly #gil arroyo #jessica whitly #malcolm bright #kinda #he schemin'#honestly kinda digging this vibe change #prodigal son spoilers

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brightmalcolm · 4 years

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I feel like Kermit/Dark Kermit meme because me: Malcolm Bright is a precious cinnamon bun, wrap him in blanket and protect from this world but also me: WHUMP HIM!!

Me: Malcolm needs to be protected at all costs, he’s been through so much, all I want for him now is to be safe and loved.

Me to me: STAB HIM SHOOT HIM PUSH HIM OFF A BUILDING MAKE HIM FEEL LIKE NO ONE CARES ABOUT HIM FUCK THAT SHIT UP

#anonymous #answered

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emotinalsupportturtle · 7 months

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Malcolm Bright is basically a likeable Sherlock Holmes but with an actual personality (beyond being an asshole and a smartass), who's also wayy cooler and actually has mad skills

Sherlock wishes he could be my boi Malcolm

(I am right about this and you know it)

#and he's way more interesting #yes I said what I said #this is about bbc sherlock #no hate but it is true #protect malcolm bright at all costs #malcolm bright #sherlock holmes #prodigal son #also he has real PTSD unlike sherlock who has what exactly?

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hudscnwilliams · 4 years

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ooc: alright, so hudson does want macbeth, although who knows if he actually mentally would be right for that right now considering the whole murder bit. i think truthfully, he just wants one opportunity to shine, considering he thinks he probably won’t have much of a career after this. this is his big chance to show how talented he is. he’s also, of course, grappling with covering up orson’s murder and so that’s left him in a rough spot right now. so, he honestly has more he should be worrying about than macbeth. given the fact that he knows he was going to be the lead, though, it would probably make him sad and maybe a little bit bitter towards whoever does get macbeth if he doesn’t.

i think he’s been able to shut off some of his emotions this week and compartmentalize it all. he will have to confront his feelings at some point, but right now, he can focus on this audition. that’s why he goes in so well prepared and performs well. he’s ignoring how stressed, scared, and upset he is in favor of focusing on iago’s maliciousness. love that for him.

in terms of roles, i think he would prefer macbeth first, and then malcolm, then macduff or maybe even lady macbeth if that’s a thing that could be possible. then banquo or the witches or one of the other thanes. but also, casting could completely not go his way! who knows!

the lights in the theatre felt too bright, and the stage too warm. maybe that was just hudson’s nerves talking, though. auditions always took a lot out of him. he spent the week leading up to them pouring over his monologue, working on analyzing it from beginning to end, and making sure all of his character choices made sense. and in the past, it had always been for nothing. he had spent so long stressing himself out, hoping that perhaps this would be the audition that made orson give him a lead, but he was always left playing the understudy.

heidi had said that wouldn’t necessarily be the case this time, but hudson had his doubts. what was the point in getting his hopes up if she just went with the obvious casting choices orson would make?

and yet, well...his hopes were up, a bit. more than hudson would like to admit. maybe this time would be different. maybe this time, someone would see that he was talented and hard working and deserved to be the lead role. maybe, just maybe, he would be macbeth.

he wanted it badly. the chance to take center stage, and pour his heart out completely, to open himself up and be raw and vulnerable in ways he’d never been able to before. but did he deserve it? after all, what sort of future did he have after this, anyway? he couldn’t afford to move to new york or london, and unless he impressed some sort of casting agent who came to see their last show, he doubted anyone would be itching to cast him in anything once he left school considering the roles he’d played here at alderidge. maybe it would be better if mathias, jonah or teddy were able to add it to their resume.

but...but was that really fair? all three of them had had moments to shine over the last three semesters. whether it be as the dashing hero, the handsome young lover, or the wicked villain, they had made an impression. they had been center stage. they had been memorable.

maybe someone else should get a turn, just this once. and why shouldn’t it be hudson? after all, he had learned his lines and their’s for three semesters. he had learned all of their blocking, all of their motivations, all of their research. he’d dived deep into so many character, only to never get to show his work to an audience. maybe, he deserved the chance to prove that orson had been right in finally casting him as the lead.

orson...he couldn’t think about that right now. no, if he let orson get in his head - or if he let himself think too much about that night, and the things he had done to protect teddy - he would never be able to do this. and hudson deserved to be able to get through this. he had done bad things, and he didn’t really believe he was a good person anymore, but he did deserve to have one last good audition.

he deserved the chance to show heidi that he was better than a small part with a handful of lines.

waiting was agony, more so than it had been in the past. the stakes were high now, higher than they ever had been before. hudson was ready to rise to the challenge, though.

finally, from heidi, “hudson williams.”

he squared his shoulders, taking a moment to breathe before standing and walking towards the stage. he wasn’t confident or cocky as much as he was poised; he was self-assured. he could do this. hudson could show heidi that he could play someone as complex as macbeth, he just needed to focus.

standing center stage, hudson stared out into the house, his eyes well-above the blurred face of his new director. she waited patiently, allowing hudson a moment to center himself.

“i’m hudson williams, and i’m auditioning for the role of macbeth. i’ll be performing iago’s soliloquy from othello. act two, scene three.” he announced with a smile, giving heidi a moment to write that down. then, he got into character, and hudson disappeared. in his place was the confident iago.

“and what’s he then that says i play the villain?” he asked curiously, an eyebrow raised in challenge. he knew the answer already. “when this advice is free i give and honest, probal to thinking and indeed the course to win the moor again?”

the key to playing iago was in grounding him, hudson knew. he had never played the role himself, but he had seen enough productions to know how easy it was to turn him into some sort of fantastical, animated villain. rather than leaning into the mustache twirling, or maniacal laughter, hudson instead chose to make him feel real. he walked calmly downstage right, allowing this moment to be just between himself and the audience.

“for ’tis most easy th' inclining desdemona to subdue in any honest suit. she’s framed as fruitful as the free elements.” desdemona was sweet; she had a good heart. iago didn’t necessarily see this as a fault, but he did see it as a ways of manipulating her and others. desdemona meant nothing to him - she was a means to an end. so why should he care about her feelings?

“and then for her to win the moor, were to renounce his baptism, all seals and symbols of redeemèd sin, his soul is so enfettered to her love that she may make, unmake, do what she list, even as her appetite shall play the god with his weak function.” hudson as iago didn’t allow judgement to enter his tone until he spoke of othello. desdemona was innocent, and that made it easy to bend her to his will. that was the trick to getting rid of othello, who had cost iago so much. othello deserved what was coming to him. hudson smirked slightly, unable to stop himself.

iago did not consider himself the villain of this story. he was a man who was over looked and cast aside in the past, and now it was his time to take what he wanted by whatever means necessary. macbeth would surely approve of his ambition and passion, for he himself had those qualities. hudson did not, although he didn’t allow his own thoughts to shine through. iago wasn’t conflicted; he didn’t need hudson’s own morality to make an appearance today.

“how am i then a villain to counsel cassio to this parallel course, directly to his good?” the advice he had given cassio in the scene before this soliloquy wasn’t wrong or bad; it would actually help him. appealing to desdemona in order to regain favor with othello was a good plan. it just wouldn’t end well for cassio or desdemona, if iago had his say. iago, ever the intellect, used the fact that the advice was sound in order to prove to the audience that he wasn’t a villain. he was a character saturated in grays, full of moral ambiguity.

“divinity of hell.” hudson scoffed, his emotions bubbling under the surface. he wouldn’t give himself away, though; he could control himself.

“when devils will the blackest sins put on, they do suggest at first with heavenly shows as i do now.” he was aware that his plan would hurt people. however, iago didn’t really care. it wouldn’t hurt him - and othello deserved to be hurt, in his mind. in order to make things right for himself, he had to go through with his plan.

did the ends justify the means? to iago, they did. hudson didn’t have a good answer for that. if you had asked him a year ago, he would have told you no. but now, after the things that he had done? well...maybe he did agree with iago on that. a little bit. he pushed forward, crossing to downstage center.

“for whiles this honest fool plies desdemona to repair his fortune and she for him pleads strongly to the moor, i’ll pour this pestilence into his ear: that she repeals him for her body’s lust.” he would convince othello, who trusted him and believed in him, that desdamona was unfaithful to him. that she loved cassio, and was repulsed by othello. it didn’t matter that it was a lie. “and by how much she strives to do him good, she shall undo her credit with the moor. so will i turn her virtue into pitch and out of her own goodness make the net that shall enmesh them all.”

ruining othello would be easy. casting doubt upon those he loved would make him insecure, and that would bring about his downfall.

yes, iago was the villain. he was evil and cruel and greedy, but hudson refused to let him see that in himself. he was justified. iago was only taking back what was owed to him; if he hadn’t been mistreated in the past, then this wouldn’t be happening.

it was a dark thought, and hudson wasn’t sure he liked going to that place in his own mind. he had been able to separate the character from his own life this week by refusing to think too much about his own experiences. and, truly, he himself wasn’t an iago. maybe there were things that he deserved that weren’t his, but he wouldn’t manipulate someone into ruining themselves for a role.

that wasn’t him.

perhaps that had helped with compartmentalizing all of this. iago was a character. a rich, layered character, but a character all the same. iago was not hudson; hudson was not iago.

hudson wasn’t macbeth, either, though he could certainly play him.

macbeth was a man who let his ambitions run wild. that was his downfall. hudson? he had ambitions too, although he would never let them hurt those he cared about in the way that macbeth did. he would never hurt teddy the way macbeth killed banquo in order to remain king. nonetheless, his ambitions were real. he wanted more than this - more than bit parts, more than a handful of lines, more than always being the second, third, fourth choice for roles. he craved more.

maybe that would be his downfall one day too.

dropping out of character and returning to himself, hudson glanced back into the audience and gave heidi a small, almost shy smile. he hoped he had done enough to impress her. his performance had certainly contained more passion than usual. hudson had breathed life into iago, giving the role his all in a way he hadn’t always been able to achieve in the past.

“thank you, hudson.” heidi offered him an unreadable smile. he nodded, turning to leave the theatre.

he had done his best. that was all he could do.

#ensembletask #{ task | 001 }#{ i've been silent for too long | self paras }#murder tw #i will STOP EDITING and finally post it #final word count is 1802 so i'm so sorry everyone #settle in for more hudson rambles

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the-neurotic-zen-master · 4 years

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prodigal son is a great show (unfortunate poster design aside) and does fascinating things with portraying ptsd in its various forms and malcolm bright needs to be protected at all costs HOWEVER I am so much more interested in jessica whitly. I want to know more about the woman who defied her family to marry a man who they did not approve of out of love and who then turned out to be a fucking serial killer. I want to know more about the woman who is the embodiment of privilege but also carries immense guilt about her husband’s crimes because she didn’t see it when it was happening and can name each of his victims even 20 years later and does all of her charity work in secret because no one would accept her money publicly (even her children do not know about it). sure, malcolm may be traumatised as hell by his childhood and jessica’s attitude can be abrasive and misdirected but her motives have always been protective. she entrusted gil and psychiatrists to help malcolm when she could not (even though any trust she had in any person was likely destroyed when martin was uncovered).

#jessica whitly #is the queen of keeping up appearances but she CARES #and she was as damaged by martin as malcolm was #it has just manifested in different kinds of poor coping mechanisms #prodigal son

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alexisluthor · 4 years

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Prodigal Son Deep Dive - “The Professionals” *SPOILERS*

*PRODIGAL SON SPOILERS AHEAD*

A lot happened in the latest ep of PSON, “The Professionals.” As soon as Malcolm walks into the station and everyone’s staring at him, you know something bad happened. Plus, Gil was drinking. During the day.

So, Eve’s dead, that’s a bummer. We also miss getting two episodes of the show due to the virus, so who knows what those two episodes contained. What we have to work with is a seemingly all-powerful Nick Endicott who promised Whitly in 1999 that he’d…sleep with…Jessica and destroy his family if he ever reneged on their agreement. He’s made good on the first point and is working on the second.

It is my theory that when Malcolm went to “interview” Eddie, the man in the room wasn’t even Eddie. If the team were smart and trying to intercept Nick Endicott’s attempt at framing Malcolm…they would have a bandaged man sent to the hospital – have Malcolm show up with orders from Gil to interview him (which is weird bc he’s a profiler, but whatever). They’ve already got the assassin in their pocket. She goes to Endicott, tells him she killed Eddie and planted evidence after Malcolm’s visit. Voila. Nick thinks he’s got the upper hand.

The team has to keep Malcolm in the dark, to make everything look believable. But notice, at the end of the ep, Dani is looking upward. As if searching for cameras or something. Eve’s place had been spied upon and I think the team hoped that Malcolm’s place was bugged as well so that Nick would get the confirmation he sought. Malcolm gives an amazing ‘shocked’ performance, because it’s not a performance. He really thinks he’s being arrested. Although, if you watch his face carefully, you watch his expression shift to something…else. Less shocked and more… ‘aha, I know what you’re doing here.’

Maybe he’s safer in the clink than anywhere else at the moment – at least until Nick is…taken care of. But the promos for the next ep indicate that he’s not in jail.

Speaking of “taken care of…” as soon as it’s mentioned that Mr. David was sick, alarm bells went off in my head. It was nice to see Martin ‘caring’ about his ol’ pal, and even nicer to hear him hiss at Eddie that he’s, “not like other prisoners.” Is Mr. David still alive? Did Nick kill him?

Now we know that Martin’s cushy existence behind bars is because of Nick. But at what cost? The way Endicott threatened Martin…talked down to him…offered him his little rug. I would say that Martin is a…dominant…type. I think it’s killing him that Nick has infiltrated his family so thoroughly. That pent up rage is probably not doing good things for him, mentally. I think a lot of that rage comes out when he’s brutalizing Eddie.

The scene where Eddie tries to kill Martin was fantastic. Martin being choked…Malcolm unable to get into the cell. As he was being choked out, it was like Martin had all but given up until he heard Malcolm scream, “Dad!” It was a moment that so perfectly echoed that scene when Martin was in a coma. It was Bright who brought him back to the surface. Martin’s eyes snap open and he gets the upper hand, going into full kill mode, and all Malcolm can do is watch. I think Malcolm watches in both horror and fascination. This is the first time he’s really seen his father do real damage, revealing his animalistic nature in the most brutal fashion.

What’s just as shocking is the way that Martin attacks Eddie. He goes for the eye sockets, which is one of the ways he’d mentioned previously, to a collegiate Malcolm, how he could kill him. He tells Eddie, “this is for my boy,” and grins wildly at Malcolm as he does it. It’s like watching his sanity snap in real time. And Malcolm can’t pull his eyes away.

I think part of Malcolm…a part that he’d never admit to having…wasn’t too terribly upset by his father’s brutal treatment of Eddie. That is the man who killed Eve after all… The look on his face is more one of fascination than disgust. Despite not being >>as<< panicked as when Martin was being attacked, he still urges Martin to stop. JT pulls Martin off Eddie and Martin has this moment…it’s almost like he’d disassociated a bit. He almost has to come back to himself. Hmmmmm….

And poor Gil and Jessica, talking about Malcolm – drinking – reconnecting. Their night had been going well. Jessica is right, she sure can pick ‘em. And to find out that she did have a history with Gil is beyond satisfying and something I think we all suspected. But to hear that she had turned him away – made him think he wasn’t good enough for her – that was brutal. Poor Gil. Still, he got to have his life with Jackie. And now he gets Jessica. Or does he?

Boy…what a time for Martin. He lost Jess both to his enemy Endicott, and to his enemy Arroyo. That rage will really boil when he hears about Gil. He already fears that he’s lost his boy to the lieutenant and now his ex? Ouch.

We get that lovely kiss between Gil and Jess and several other incredible moments with the rest of the team.

Ainsley puts herself in danger as she tries to investigate Nick. But part of me wonders…if she’ll be the one to kill him. I think Martin went after the wrong kid to try to convince to be a killer. If I had to put my money on it, I’d see her killing someone before Malcolm would. Then again, he did stabby stabby his very own daddy daddy but I think the reasons behind that were more complicated than – well, he’s a killer. I digress.

And poor Eve. No wonder Malcolm is haunted by her specter. In a way, it is because of his family that both she and her sister are dead. She had just begun to taste hope, had just renewed her spark, and boom – her life was snuffed out. I think Malcolm’s psyche is more fragile than ever as a result… How many ghosts can haunt him before he cracks apart entirely?

And what of Nick’s fury? What happens when he finds out Jess has moved on to Gil? When she says “no,” to him? Eeeeek. Martin is the big, bad predator, but he can’t do much protecting from behind bars. And judging from the ‘upcoming ep’ scenes, there’s a bounty on Martin’s head. He’s going to be in gen pop – all of his cushy privileges bestowed upon him by Endicott revoked. There is a prison free-for-all in the promo for the finale so I still hold out hope that Martin could manage a jailbreak, or at least a chance at staying alive.

Tangent --- If Martin does stay alive (which he better), how would his dynamic with the team be altered now that he’s a ‘regular’ prisoner? No more private room? No more desk and books and surgical consulting? No more Mr. David, lion nature specials, and extensive private phone time? His own sanity would probably begin to splinter. Maybe his work/cooperation with the NYPD and surgical consultations would be enough to get him some old comforts back? As much as Malcolm professes to hate him (and does hate him), I don’t think he’d like these changes for Martin either (because part of him, also begrudgingly loves him). Perhaps he himself could rescue Martin from the lost privileges? After all, is it really a GOOD IDEA to mix Martin with a bunch of other prisoners? He is a puppet master, a mastermind. So maybe Mal gets him his old existence back. Wouldn’t that be a twist? >evil grin<

What I need is Mal and Martin in the same prison. Malcolm protecting him from getting whacked while the team and Ainsley try to bring down Nick. But if Martin is urging Malcolm to kill Nick, that means that Malcolm’s free. No Prison!Malcolm for me unfortunately.

I think it’s also highly unlikely that Malcolm will kill Nick in the end.

Finally, I find it fascinating that Martin urges Malcolm to be the killer, rather than Ainsley, even though he’s talking to both of them. He points out that HE is a Whitly. Like…hello? So is she? (THIS REALLY BOLSTERS MY THEORY THAT SHE IS NOT MARTIN’S KID – that and the way he barely acknowledges her existence) Maybe she’ll take Nick out in the end? Who knows.

All I know is that the team is more kickass than ever. Malcolm improvising with that knife and ketchup? Perfection. Dani taking out the assassin. Beyond amazing. The director actually giving us a LIT SHOT OF TOM PAYNE’S FACE…YESSSSSS. There were plenty of wonderful moments in this ep that have me screaming at FOX to renew this show.

PS If Edrisa is the ultimate Malcolm Stan…HOW DID SHE NOT KNOW THAT HE HAD DATED EVE? LIKE…what kind of stalker are we here Edrisa? You can do better. Plus, no one from the team thought to CALL HER? Give her a heads up maybe? “Yo – Bright is coming in. He dated the dead girl. Act somber.” NOTHING. She just had no idea. This from the same woman who HAD MAL’S MEDICAL FILES after he got kidnapped? I just…. sigh…come on team. Come on Edrisa. (GIF courtesy of MyBoy)

#prodigal son #prodigal son theories #pson #pson theories #malcolm bright #jt tarmel #dani powell #edrisa tanaka #gil arroyo #jessica whitly #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #nick endicott #tom payne #michael sheen #lou diamond phillips #theories #the professionals

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