#* ─── ainsley whitly / mirror

[fox-bee926]

sir thats my emotional support character

[carnagebled-a]

THE PRODIGAL MURDER DAUGHTERS

[i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once]

hello!! i’ve been following your blog for,,, a little while and last night’s episode made me snort water out of my nose when jessica said “pop out a few grandchildren” and mal gave her A Look so what about a malcolm x reader where they tell her the reader is pregnant and jessica is THE MOST EXTRA with her reaction. you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course

Thank you so much for this! I had so much fun writing it! I originally meant for this to be around 500 words but it ended up at 1,201, whoops!

...

You absentmindedly rubbed your stomach before freezing and staring Malcolm down. 

"This is a terrible idea. She's going to know. Why aren't we telling her again?"

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat, even after all this time. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around you. "I promise, we'll tell her and Ainsley after the gala, I don't want anything to shadow this moment and she's been obsessed with planning this thing for weeks." You sighed he was right but you still rolled your eyes at him. 

"Ooookay. But I'm telling you, she's going to figure it out. The woman raised a profiler and a reporter"

"It'll be fine," He swayed as he held you, turning it into a slow dance, "we just have to make it through this lunch and tomorrow night. Easy." You couldn't help but return his smile. It was a terrible idea but maybe it would turn out okay.

…

No matter how many times you went to the Whitly home you were always blown away by its extravagance. It felt more like a museum than a place where actual people lived. You sat on an overstuffed couch (it was expensive but in no way comfortable) and listened to Jessica go on about mindless details, the shade of green used for the table runners, the price of shipping the specific Italian marble used for a cheeseboard. 

"And what will you be wearing dear," she asked reaching out to touch your wrist, "please tell me that you let Vincenzo take your measurements last time he came over to fit Malcolm's suits." You had let him and had a few things made but as the weeks went by the growing bump of your belly had made it impossible to fit any of them. 

"I was just going to buy something," you managed to eke out. Jessica’s face fell and she shook her head. 

“Well, you’re in luck because Ainsley had nothing to wear either and Vincenzo is the best so he can have something ready for you by tomorrow evening. He'll be here in a few minutes. We’ll just get some quick measurements done and then enjoy our lunch.” She smiled her signature smile and before you could argue she was back on her woes of finding a decent florist. You looked to Malcolm who just shrugged and continued pretending to be interested in the conversation. 

…

You stood awkwardly in front of the huge mirror watching the older gentleman's fingers fluttering from here to there taking careful measurements. Jessica stood a few feet away giving her input occasionally. He took a step back and gave you a warm welcoming smile as he grasped your shoulders and kissed both of your cheeks.

"Il Signore benedica il frutto del vostro amore," you looked at him and back to Jessica who had her hands clapped over her mouth and tears in her eyes. 

"Thank you?" You replied fairly certain that the secret had been spilled. You wished you knew Italian. You had expected Jessica to rant and rave but instead, she wiped her eyes carefully before linking her arm with yours.

"Come on, let's not leave the others waiting."

…

"I stopped trying to understand my mother ages ago. You're sure you don't remember what he said" Malcolm yelled from the kitchen. You were wiggling your way into the dress that had been dropped off at the house earlier. It fit perfectly of course. The perfect amount of stretch around your midsection. Sexy and sophisticated. You finished your hair and makeup before joining Malcolm in the kitchen. 

"I'm pretty sure it was Italian" 

"Well, he is Italian so I would hope so. You look gorgeous by the way," he put the pan in his hand down and bridged the few steps between you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You scrunched your face before pulling away.

"What's that smell?" You took a few steps back, the taste of bile rising in your throat before running to the bathroom. Alone in the kitchen, he cupped a hand to his face to smell his breath, made a face, and joined you to brush his teeth. 

…

You stepped out of the car while Malcolm held the door open. 

"Feeling okay?" You squeezed his hand in response. 

"You mean other than slightly nauseous, sweaty, and swollen?" 

"I'm sorry," he gently kissed your hand, "I promise we don't have to stay long."

You walked into the venue holding onto him, your mind concentrated hard on getting through the night. Later when anyone asked you would say that's why it took you so long to notice the room around you. 

This was not the celebration Jessica had spent the last few weeks explaining to you. The room was filled with pastel colors, pink, purple, green, and yellow. "Welcome Baby" and "Congratulations" were hung on gigantic banners across the room. Everywhere you looked you saw the faces of your friends and family, along with the faces of a few senators and the mayor if you weren't mistaken. A mountain of gifts that took up more space than your first apartment was piled into a corner. 

You couldn't help but wonder how much money it had cost to plan the entire thing last minute, to fly people from across the country to be here. Jessica must have been up all night getting everything prepared. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry so you did both. Malcolm stood equally stunned, his mouth hung open, absolutely speechless. Jessica practically ran to you taking you in her arms. 

"I know you hate big parties but I just couldn't help myself! A baby in the family!" She turned to Malcolm without letting you go, "And you," She wagged a finger at him and he held his hands up in mock defeat, "You didn't tell me? What were you waiting for!" She turned back to you, "Don't worry sweetheart I don't blame you at all, I know this was one of my son's terrible ideas."

You mouthed "told you" to Malcolm who was on the receiving end of a bear hug from Gil. His eyes were full of happy tears. Fatherhood was a terrifying step for him to make and it wasn't one he took lightly. You were so grateful he had a man like Gil in his life to be there for him always. 

Your heart was so full of love.

Jessica let you go after what felt like an hour and took Malcolm in her arms after swatting his arm probably harder than necessary. Gil offered his open arms to you and you gladly accepted. 

"So how's it feel to be a grandpa?" You asked teasingly. He laughed.

"Amazing. Terrifying. I can't believe my kid is having a kid. How's it feel being a mom?"

Your voice caught in your throat. You felt so many things. Joy, complete terror, giddy, love. You looked at the people around you with peace and knowledge in your heart that they were there for you, there for this baby, no matter what. 

"It's the best feeling in the world," you replied. 

*"Il Signore benedica il frutto del vostro amore" = "God bless the fruit of your love."

[wonder-boy]

Edrisa’s jokes aside, she’s right about one thing: there’s no stakes, no dramatics in smothering someone with a pillow. It simply doesn’t fit Malcolm. 

We’ve seen Malcolm get pissed a few times this season, enough lash out (Alone Time, Eye of the Needle, The Professions, etc) but never passes the threshold of literally killing someone. He always holds back, keeps himself in check, never hurts anyone beyond what he considers reasonable. 

We all know it’s a conscious effort he’s making. When he’s pointing the gun at Endicott (his anger enough to make him stash it just in case), he hesitates. He’s pissed, running on adrenaline, finger on the trigger but he never pulls it. Endicott is a bastard of a human being, but not enough for Malcolm to kill him.

And let’s be real folks: he wasn’t going to kill him. Suppose Malcolm fired that gun. Maybe popped a few more rounds into the asshole. It won’t be enough for him. It’s not satisfying enough. It’s an easy way out. Endicott would die cold without facing penance for all of the pain he’s put the Whitly’s through. His death wouldn’t be worth it, even after the gun goes off.

If Malcolm is to catch a body this season, it will be personal. His rage is internalized, curated, building inside of him over time. In Ainsley’s case, her kill was primal, instinctual, not entirely based on years of extensive, immediate trauma (though, she’s got some residual issues she needs to work through).

Malcolm is a good person, his mother’s son at heart, very empathetic to those who have suffered at the hands of his father. Though, at his core, if he stopped actively controlling his impulses, he is capable of murder. Anyone is. He is different, in the sense that there’s only one person he’s going to take that dive for: Martin. 

If Malcolm is to kill someone in the future, it will be Martin.

It won’t be clean, either.

He won’t think twice about it. He won’t take time to justify it. He’ll simply do it. I’ll go as far to say it mirror’s Ainsley’s gruesome kill, if not more bloody and dismembering. It’ll be personal, destructive, grisly (bonus points if the team catches him on top of an unidentifiable Martin).

After all, people aren’t born broken, right? Sure, Martin can revel in the fact that he “made” Malcolm. But that’ll turn on him.

Malcolm will be his undoing.

[brightmalcolm]

You were curious why I'm not mad now. I think we all just posted our first reactions and with time that will settle down. Emotions are running really high right now. But for me personally, I guess I've processed it quickly.

1 I think the show is trying to push the idea that Ainsley might be like Martin a little too much. Like they did with Malcolm last season. Wherever she lands in the end, I don't trust the show. They are trying to get everyone to speculate.

2 this whole family is super dramatic. It's not surprising that an angry Whitlys would get even and make a point this.

3 Whitlys don't really listen either, so it would have to be dramatic to get them to understand they messed up. Like, you need to prove it I guess. Ainsley COULD have blacked out and killed someone. Malcolm should have told her when she asked, she was ready to know.

4 Ainsley is getting a head of herself though, like they haven't gotten away with anything. I imagine that's a lesson she will quickly learn, and then she may show more concern that she seems lacking. When that happens, the fandom will probably move on and not be so angry with her.

I find it interesting actually, that Ainsley seems to have complete faith in her brother to cover up a murder.

Definitely agree with number one, I mean looking at the beginning of this season, it seemed like they were hinting at Malcolm snapping! I think Ainsley’s “prank” was supposed to mirror Birdie trying to make money off of Jessica’s life and trauma and how Jessica agreed to pay her just to make her leave her alone. I guess if your brother was FBI for ten years you expect he picks up a few things lol? He’s done a good job so far...

[shineonmalcolmbright]

Shine On, Bright :Chapter Four

Table of Contents

Past

Martin Whitly felt as if the moment called for the urgent sounds of Satyagraha. Something about it screamed while blaring over the station wagon’s speakers. Jessica sat in the passenger seat, silent. Ainsley slept. Malcolm picked at the lock in an attempt to let it rise and fall to the beat of the opera. Their vehicle slid along sidewinder roads in the mountains heading towards a single destination, a new life.

At some during the ceaseless clanging of instruments, Martin glanced at the rear view mirror to focus on Malcolm who paused, the door was left unlocked as they headed straight on a road. “My son, are you familiar with Rabindranath Tagore here? He was a poet”

Jessica side-eyed him. “Martin, he’s seven. Seven-year-olds don’t read poetry.”

“I’m ten,” Malcolm corrected.

“Close enough.” Jessica looked out her window instead.

“I read The Raven. It was for school on Halloween. We even watched The Simpsons because they made fun of it.”

None of this information pertained to Martin. He skipped it to go right into what he wanted to say because it was more important. “He wrote this one poem I want you to remember, he wrote it about his daughter but this one is instead for you, repeat it after me: Foolish boy, my son who gave you the strength to make such a statement, so bold, so self-assured-- ‘I won’t let you go’? Whom will you, in this universe, with two hands hold back. . .”

“Martin. . .that’s a lot of words. How could anybody repeat them after you?” Jessica interrupted.

“Jessica.” A tightness fastened itself to Martin's vowels. “I’m speaking to Malcolm here, not you.”

Malcolm attempted some sort of smile, it was a pretty crooked little smirk. “I won’t let you go.” The only words he remembered from whatever that all was.

That time Martin glanced back at him despite Jessica screaming for him to watch the road while driving along toward their new life. “I won’t let you go.”

The music raged.

“MARTIN!”

“Jessica! We’re fine.”

Of course, Martin returned to paying close attention to the road, it curved revealing a large building that looked cute into a mountainside. One wrong move would send them plunging into the rocks underneath. It looked as if the hotel had two arms using its fingers to crawl forward at them. There wasn’t anything welcoming about it, but still hung out ready to grab onto anybody who happened to close.

“Would you look at that?” Martin pointed it out. Music still pounding over the speakers, singers who made no sense but their words somehow became I won’t let you go. Beside him, Jessica groaned. “Wake Ainsley up, Malcolm. Make sure she sees this.” He nudged Jessica who groaned and rolled her eyes. In the back, Malcolm tapped on Ainsley’s shoulder. Everybody looked right on out at the building as Martin said over the music, “The Overlook Hotel.”

###

Martin pulled into a loop real close to the hotel. He parked the car and was already out of the car commenting on how he might be late. Jessica looked at the clock before she rolled the window down to yell out, “Martin! You’re early!”

“Early is late,” Martin smiled at her.

Jessica lost her words. She watched him disappear before looking back at the dashboard. Keys still in the ignition with the music still playing. She kind of smiled, but truth was, this was all wrong. Still sitting in the car, she flicks out a lighter and a cigarette box. Before popping it open, she slapped the volume off.

“Enough of that, right?” Jessica looked back at Ainsley and Malcolm who sat in the back not really reacting to her question. “Right.” She pulled a cigarette out, lighting it.

“Second-hand smoking. . .” Malcolm started to say but Jessica’s door opened causing her to scream. The cigarette fell into her lap, burned her. She yelped, flinging it from herself. Malcolm leaned forward to get a better look at a security guard who knelt on the curb looking at them. A name tag on his uniform just said Arroyo. He looked at all of them there but Malcolm ended up speaking up. “Hello.”

“Hello,” said the security guard while hanging out there. “Are you checking in?”

Jessica shook her head ready to start smoking for real this time around. “Unfortunately, no.” She lit it, took a drag, and looked over at the guard. “We’re moving in.”

The man was at such a loss of words, but he made an attempt to find them.

Malcolm continued to lean into the back of his mother’s seat. “We’re the new caretakers.”

“The new caretakers?” He managed to say. He put out a hand to help Jessica from the car before opening the door for Malcolm. “That’s a pretty huge responsibility.” As Malcolm climbed out, he paused giving Malcolm a quick, direct glance with a half-smile. “You all can call me Gil.” After that, he added, I work security here during the busy seasons.

Malcolm’s toes clipped the curb and he almost fell face-first into the pavement but Gil caught him. What?

“I’m Jessica.” She pointed at Malcolm. “That’s Malcolm and then this here. . .” Her pause wasn’t meant to be dramatic, she needed to reach in and help Ainsley out. Jessica held her cigarette in one hand and hoisted Ainsley up in the other. “And this here is Ainsley.”

Gil smiled at Ainsley. “Well, hello there.” And he made sure Malcolm was standing there fine. And a hello to you, too.

Malcolm did everything in his power to act like this is normal, this had to be normal, this was normal, nothing about this was strange. But how?

Already Jessica was setting Ainsley down while attempting to smoke.

“You know that’s not healthy for the kids,” Gil told her.

Jessica glared. “It’s not even healthy for me.”

“When you say moving in? Do you mean you’re moving into the Overlook or close by?” Gil kept walking with them as they headed toward the big doors. He ends up holding one wide open for them. “I hope not, unusual things tend to happen here.”

Jessica and Ainsley entered first. Malcolm pretended he wasn’t about to initiate a conversation with Gil. What do you mean by. . .unusual?

The lobby opened up, the ceiling raised up so high and a single woman argued with the person at the main desk. Whoever worked there looked exhausted. Malcolm acted as if he were observing the argument while Jessica crushed her cigarette into an ashtray. There was no sign of Martin.

Maybe I should speak with your parents about it, but. . . Gil ended up falling a few steps behind Jessica. She was saying something about the building with Ainsley coming close to wandering away from her. If you ever need help, you give me a shout.

Malcolm offered no response. He waited for Gil to explain. No sense in asking questions when he can tell by Gil’s expression, he’s ready to add more information.

It’s called the shining or at least that was how it was first introduced to me.

That time around, Malcolm ended up asking, What do you mean by the shining?

Gil pointed at the side of his head, enough of an answer. See how we’re talking now, just give me a real loud shout and I’ll come running. Give it a try.

Whatever Jessica said next is lost on Malcolm. She looked out the windows at their moving truck as it joined the station wagon in the loop.

HELP!

Gil collapsed attracting all attention especially Jessica’s. Her attention though darts straight to Malcolm. “Malcolm! What did you do?!”

“Nothing,” retorted Malcolm, glad Gil is already getting up. He offered him a hand. Gil does not look well. I didn’t mean. . .”

It’s ok, kid. Gil let go of Malcolm’s hand now that he was standing there. Just didn’t expect you to shine so bright. Where I’m going, there’s no way I’ll miss that call for help from you.

Going?

“Malcolm, watch your sister,” Jessica said without looking at him or Ainsley. Instead, she was already out the door yelling at everybody opening the moving van.

But Malcolm looked around, Ainsley was gone. “Ains?” he whispered, but he spotted her looking down a regular hallway in the hotel. Her feet remained planted in the lobby. Good. Where are you going?

Back home to New York, but if anything happens, and I mean anything, you shout for me. Just like that, maybe even louder.

Gil made his way back toward the door to help Jessica and the movers. This left Malcolm there staring at him. He reached for the door but Malcolm couldn’t let him go just yet.

What do you mean by anything? What kind of weird things happen here?

But Gil only smiled. The truth was: Malcolm’s life would’ve been a lot better if he never understood what Gil meant by that anything. It was worse than he could imagine because it was never something he could make up. He waved to Gil yet Gil was already gone, his back to him.

Malcolm stood alone in the lobby where the angry woman’s voice echoed. Rather than eavesdrop on their conversation, Malcolm decided to chat with Ainsley to make sure she was already. He could hear the hotel worker’s mind buzzing about everything other than what the woman was screaming about. Then the woman kept thinking all about how she needed to get out of there before it snowed because once it snowed, there was no turning back only there.

“Ains?” Malcolm looked back at where she stood before the hallway except, the spot was empty. The rest of the lobby was empty. “Ainsley?” Malcolm couldn’t move. He felt rooted to the ground, a tremor sprinted through his heart. Nobody else stood around. It was him and the other two. No Martin. No Jessica. No Gil. And most important, no Ainsley. “AINSLEY!”

[ohmyprodigalson]

Sorry for taking a while to request, I've been busy- Gil introduces another cop to the team, and shes a BADASS. Like leather jackets, boots and short spiky hair. I feel that despite his better judgement, Malcolm would subconsciously feel intimidated. Do with that what you will! 💞💞

This follows a different story line after the FBI took over the case of the Junkyard Killer, so it would either take the place of s01xep10, or would happen before the case they work on in that episode. I hope you like it! 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1,249

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

Gil watched as Dani followed the FBI agents away from where the rest of the team was standing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N). He met her and asked how she was doing as he led her over to Malcolm and JT. They stood before them, Gil’s hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, and he said, “I want you to meet a new member of our team. This is (Y/N).”

Malcolm looked over her. She wore a leather jacket, a graphic t-shirt, skinny jeans, and combat boots. Her hair was cut short and styled to form spikes. There was a look of seriousness in her eyes that could pierce through any soul. (Y/N) gave them all a small and smile and a nod. “It’s nice to meet you.”

After they exchanged pleasantries, they followed Gil to a corner of the precinct cordoned off for them to use while the FBI was in their room. Because Malcolm, Gil, and JT had already been to the crime scene, Gil caught (Y/N) up on the information they already knew about the victim. Edrisa’s report was left on the table, so Malcolm opened and read it while Gil was talking. When Gil finished talking to (Y/N), Malcolm spoke.

“Edrisa says she found octopus in the victim’s stomach. How…?”

(Y/N) spoke with confidence. “Could she tell how it was cooked? Was it fried? Was it completely cooked through?”

“It says here that the octopus didn’t appear to be fried. Why?”

“There’s a specific restaurant I know about that serves octopus.” (Y/N) crossed her arms. “It’s a delicacy of sorts. They leave the octopus partially uncooked to preserve some of the taste, and consequently some of the experience is trying to eat the octopus while its tentacles are trying to adhere to your throat. You have to chew it for a long time.”

Malcolm listened to her talk, but he started to have a strange feeling about her. He knew she was just a normal person, and she must be good if Gil trusted her to join the team. But something about her appearance and the way she could speak with such authority made him feel… intimidated.

Gil spoke. “We should go there, and see if we can find any more information. If the octopus was still in her stomach, she must have eaten there right before she was murdered. Why don’t you two go together?” He motioned towards Malcolm and (Y/N). She immediately agreed while Malcolm hesitated for the slightest of seconds. He didn’t know how he felt about spending time alone with someone he just met, but he pushed those feelings aside because he knew they were unfounded.

When Malcolm and (Y/N) got to the restaurant, they spoke to the host first. (Y/N) showed him a picture of the victim. “Do you know this woman?”

The host nodded. “She works in the kitchen as one of our chefs, and she hasn’t come in for work yet today. Do you want to leave a message for her? Or…?”

Malcolm spoke first. “This woman was found dead this morning. So if she works in the kitchen, does she mostly deal with the other chefs back there? Do you think we could talk to them for a minute?”

“Oh my God, she’s dead?” He didn’t answer Malcolm’s questions, so he had to prompt him again. “Yes, of course. Except we are about to open, so your conversation will need to be quick.”

(Y/N) thanked him before she and Malcolm walked past the dining rooms to enter the kitchen. There they found many chefs and sous chefs hard at work, preparing for dinner service. There was one chef in particular who appeared to be in charge because he was directing other chefs and speaking loudly enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear him. (Y/N) walked up to him with her picture of the victim. “Excuse me, are you the head chef?”

“Yes. What are you doing in my kitchen? We haven’t opened yet and guests aren’t allowed in here.”

She flashed her badge at him. “We’re with the police, and we would like to ask you some questions. Do you know this woman?”

“Yeah, that’s Angela. She hasn’t come in to work today. Have you seen her? Is she in trouble?” He stood with his hands on his hips, like a man that was already tired before his day had even started.

Malcolm had to raise his voice to be heard over the clanging of some pots behind him. “She was found dead this morning. Do you know of anyone that would want to hurt her?”

“Actually…” The chef turned around and looked at one of the sous chefs chopping celery. “Dennis? Can you come here for a minute? I need to talk to you.”

The man named Dennis had overheard their conversation because of Malcolm’s need to speak louder. He didn’t look back as he began to run through the kitchen, and (Y/N) was quick to follow after him. She knew that kitchens usually only had one back entrance, so there would only be one place to which he would be running. She followed after him all the way through the kitchen, not bothering to diverge from his path. Just as he started to reach the door, she caught up to him and leapt into the air to give herself some momentum as she landed on top of him. After she pinned him down to the ground, she handcuffed him to keep him from escaping. Malcolm watched all of this unfold and was extremely impressed with her ability to apprehend a suspect with such force. It just further solidified his intimidation.

Gil wanted JT and Dani to interrogate the sous chef, so that someone new could confront him. So, Malcolm and (Y/N) stood behind the one-way mirror and watched. (Y/N) was starting to feel a little uneasy because Malcolm hadn’t really spoken to her since she arrived, and she hoped that she hadn’t done anything to offend him. But then it hit her. Ainsley Whitly’s interview with her father aired last night. Maybe he had watched it and was still upset? Maybe his silence wasn’t about her? She felt compelled to check on him, to see if he was trying to hide his feelings of embarrassment and sadness.

She spoke quietly. “Are you ok?”

Malcolm was surprised. What did she mean? Was he acting strangely? “Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“I just know that your sister’s interview aired last night, and I was wondering if you were ok. You seem a little out of sorts, even though I just met you.”

He was severely taken aback? “You know who I am?”

“Yes. I overheard one of the FBI agents talking about you. He was being pretty mean, and I watched you. You didn’t react at all, but I know his words must have hurt. And if he’s speaking that way around you, I’m sure a lot of other people are, too. That must be very upsetting for you.”

Malcolm was stunned. This person that he found so intimidating was actually kind and caring. She was very emotionally aware of others, and she wasn’t afraid to let that show. He was touched by her concern. “Oh, people talk that way about me all the time. The interview has done nothing to change that.” Malcolm smiled at her and finally relaxed. “Thank you though, for caring.”

(Y/N) smiled back at him. “Of course.”

[isagrimorie]

I really like the actor for Prodigal Son but I wonder if the show was Prodigal Daughter instead would it have worked or would it not have much mainstream appeal? 

What if it Bellamy Young’s Jessica  was Dr. Whitly instead of Michael Sheen? Instead of Malcolm, it’s Ainsley Bright, the brilliant but troubled profiler who, as a child saw one of her mother’s victims and reported her mother to the police? 

Gil would still be around as a parental figure, and Martin Whitly is around struggling to hold things together. Ainsley became a profiler, she took her mother’s name because, ironically, her mother’s maiden name is less notorious. 

This makes their whole interaction a lot thornier because Ainsley doesn’t want to be like her mother but she took Dr. Jessica Bright Whitly’s maiden name. And of course Jessica would hold it over Ainsley’s head, she is, after all, Jessica’s dearest daughter. 

The one she wants to mold into Dr. Jessica Whitly’s mirror image. 

But also, can you imagine Bellamy Young in the role of Michael Sheen? It would be so fun to watch IMO. 

/EDITED. Don’t try to write stuff after waking up kids. 

[badwolfwriter]

I really want to know what Martin’s plan was. Like, he clearly wanted the dude to get to where he and his kids were and stab someone so they would be forced to let Martin play hero. But was he supposed to just stab the closest person? Did he have specific instructions to not touch Ainsley? (Cos no one expected Malcolm to be there.) So what would have happened if Ainsley’s boyfriend wasn’t at the door when it opened? Would the guy have gone through to the cell and stabbed Ainsley? Or what if it had been Malcolm standing by the door? Would he have gotten stabbed? Like I want to know how well thought out this plan was, what amount of damage to his kids Martin was ok with. And I want Ainsley to know this too. She needs to hear this so she can get off the “Martin is redeemable, maybe there’s some good in him after all” bandwagon. 

Cos guys, she’s in danger. The first time we saw her interact with Martin, she followed Malcolm’s example of calling him Dr. Whitly. (Probably something Malcolm let slip he does one day that she decided to copy.) By the end of the latest episode, however, she’s full on calling him dad. Not Father, to mirror the Mother as opposed to Mom that Jessica gets, but Dad. He’s got his claws in her, and I don’t see it going anywhere but downhill.

[coldasyou]

i love ainsley i do but good lord she needs to understand like other people were affected by martin and just because his victims are dead doesn’t mean like that goes away ? like they have families that she conveniently forgot about and it honestly would’ve been a better story for like martin whitlys daughter to be a champion for his victims instead of allowing her father onto tv

yeah like I DO believe it’s coming from a place of her own trauma being (unintentionally) repressed and invalidated by jessica and not being able to have any real memories of her father but it doesn’t excuse how callous she’s being. while I don’t think she’s a sociopath or lacks empathy or compassion (we’ve seen her be worried abt malcolm and her mom) this situation just brought out the worst in her. I would love for this narrative to end with something like that, her using her journalism to fight for victims rights or even be like malcolm and get more into investigating unsolved cases but for now she really needs to take a look in the mirror.   

[diamondol]

ainsley

xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  mirror image xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  headcanons xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  verses xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  aesthetics xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  musings xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  wardrobe xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  nsfw xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  answered ask xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  closed starter xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  ships xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  playlist xlviii  。  ainsley whitly  。  desires

[i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once]

A Halloween teen Maljay/Brandasara fic!

Only vaguely edited.

Happy Halloween!!! 🎃🎃🎃

"We're invited to a Halloween Party!" Vijay burst into their shared dorm, sweaty, a huge smile on his face. 

"How was soccer practice," Malcolm replied, not looking up and turning a page of the book he was only half reading. 

Vijay took his shirt off, wiping his sweat off, and tossed it to the side. Malcolm finally closed his book, not so subtly eyeing his boyfriend. Vijay gave him a quick peck before flopping onto the couch beside him. 

"You're not even a little excited to be invited?" He asked.

Malcolm thought back to the last party he had been invited to. He was eleven and when they looked up the address they found it was to a dump. He could still see the malice in the eyes of his classmates the next day at school when they asked him if he'd had fun. 

"No. I don't go to parties." He replied stiffly, shaking the memory from his mind. 

"It'll be different," Vijay laid his head on Malcolm's lap, looking at him softly. "I won't let anything bad happen. And if it's too much we can leave, I promise." He fluttered his eyelashes and Malcolm couldn't help but smile. 

"Fine," he threw his head back, closing his eyes to avoid agreeing to anything else. "I'll go but I am not dressing up." 

…

Half the school, along with half the girls from their sister school, had been invited to the party. It made him slightly more on edge and anxious than usual. 

He was at the library waiting for Vijay to find a book when someone walked past, nearly knocking him over when they shoulder checked him. 

"Heard you'll be at the party tomorrow Whitly." The voice made his skin crawl. 

Once upon a time he and Ben had been friends. His mother still had pictures of them playing with the sandy blonde haired boy. He remembered the sleepovers and the jokes shared. Things had changed overnight when his father was arrested. 

"I think you'll like my costume." His smile didn't reach his eyes and Malcolm wondered what joy Ben gained from being an utter asshole twenty-four seven. 

Vijay turned the corner, a pile of books in hand, in time to see Ben walking away. 

"You okay?" He asked. 

"Yeah, fine. Let's get out of here."

…

He adjusted his cravat in the mirror. After a few days of bemoaning the idea of wearing a costume he'd finally given in as long as it was something simple.  He gave himself another look over in the mirror. They'd decided on regency era vampires. Not exactly simple but he had to admit it wasn't an entirely bad look on him. Or Vijay. 

His boyfriend stood behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing at what little skin wasn't covered by the cravat. 

Malcolm sighed. "Can't we just stay here and do this instead?"

"We can do plenty of that after the party. Now are you ready to go? It's getting late" 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone and wallet on their way out. 

…

He could hear the music before they'd even stepped out of the car and could feel it in his chest by the time they got to the door. 

Vijay slipped his hand into Malcolm's. "We can leave if it's too much." 

Malcolm forced a tight smile. "We're here now. Let's go in." 

The house was packed. He had expected teenagers from at least two schools but there were far more unfamiliar faces than that. It was nice in a way. A certain amount of anonymity came with a crowd. He relaxed, dropping his guard just a bit. 

They walked from room to room. There was food, all displayed in some ghoulish form or another. There was alcohol of course but not that many people seemed to be drunk yet. The night was young and there was still plenty enough time for that. Vijay's stomach growled and Malcolm laughed. 

"It's okay, you can grab something. I'll be alright." 

Vijay gave him a quick kiss before weaving his way through the crowd. He watched him grab a plate and begin piling food on it. He felt guilty sometimes. Vijay deserved this, he was a social person. It wasn't fair for him to be cooped up all the time because of him. 

There was a lull in the music and he saw something- well, someone- that caught his eye. He knew what the costume was the second Ben came fully into his line of sight. A doctor's coat, slacks, curly brown wig, syringe in hand. His worst nightmare, his greatest fear, his father the infamous serial killer, The Surgeon. 

"So what do you think Whitly? Remind you of anyone?" A cocky smile was plastered on the teens face. 

Malcolm's hands were clenched into tight fists. He ground his teeth. Don't do anything stupid. He's trying to egg you on. Just let it go. 

"I think I got his look down. Well, not what he looks like now. How does he look by the way? I heard you still visit him in the madhouse? Do you have a room ready for you already?"

They had a small crowd growing around them. He wasn't going to give them a show. He wasn't going to yell, or fight. He was outnumbered anyway, Ben traveled in a pack. A trio of boys that made it their life's goal to make sure Malcolm knew how much he was despised. The dim light of the room hid their positions in the growing crowd but he knew they were there waiting to jump on him at any moment. 

"Nothing to say?" 

Malcolm blinked, feeling like he was seeing double. On one side there was Ben in his costume and on the other his father was smiling down at him. He didn't belong here. How did he convince himself that this could possibly be anything other than a disaster. The taste of bile rose in his mouth and he shrank into himself. He didn't. This is why he avoided parties, why avoided people. 

What he hadn't expected was for Vijay to throw the first punch. He hadn't noticed him until his fist made direct contact with Ben's face, knocking him to the floor, his wig comically flopping beside him. 

"The fuck is wrong with you, asshole!" Vijay shouted. "We all know mommy didn't give you enough attention and you'll do anything for your five minutes but seriously, even for you this is in bad taste." 

Ben's buddies made a half hearted grab at Vijay and he struggled from their grip. This wasn't going according to plan and they didn't seem to know if they should be punching him or not.

"It is a pretty tasteless costume," a girl Malcolm didn't know commented. 

"Yeah, like, my aunt's best friend knew someone who was killed. Too soon man." Someone else chimed in. 

Ben licked the blood off his lip, "oh so you're going to side with the freak?"

"Hey man, I'm not siding with anyone. I'm just saying it's a stupid costume." 

Vijay leaned over, to anyone else it looked like he was adjusting his costume but Malcolm saw him slyly picking something up off the floor. "Let's get out of here."

They walked hand in hand, Vijay staring down anyone who looked their way. 

"I'm sorry." His voice wavered. "I'm sorry I ruin everything."

"Malcolm, baby boy," he wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight, grounding him, "it's not your fault people are assholes. Plus, we can still have some fun." He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. 

"Who's keys are those?"

"They're Ben's, they flew out of his pocket when I clocked him."

"And what exactly are we going to do with those?"

"We're going to key his fuckin' car with them and then throw them in the river." Malcolm stood on his tip toes and kissed his boyfriend, the man that knew him so very well. 

…

They were in a cab making their way back to campus. 

"I'm sorry our first big holiday together was a bust."

Malcolm turned from the window to look at Vijay's face. "What?" 

The taller boy reached for his hand and wound their fingers together. "I just wanted to do something different. Something special. To- I dunno- to prove to you that things are different now. I won't let anyone hurt you and you're allowed to go out and have fun." 

He had spent the week thinking this entire charade was a bit selfish. Vijay knew he didn't like big crowds or loud music. That he had enough real horror in his life to last him a lifetime. His heart broke a little at the thought of his kind hearted and maybe a little naive boyfriend planning the whole evening out for him. He just wanted one night for Malcolm to feel like a regular teenager and it had almost instantly been ruined. He brought Vijay's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. 

"Y'know, I did have fun. It's not every day you get to key someone's car with their own keys." They laughed together. 

Malcolm's phone buzzed. He checked the screen, a text from Gil. 

"Hey, Gil just got back from taking Ainsley out trick or treating and Jackie made carne asada and homemade tortillas. I know it's not exactly the party we planned for but-" 

"It sounds perfect." 

He tapped the shoulder of their taxi driver and gave him the address. 

…

They sat around the kitchen table, yawning and wiping the sleep from their eyes while Jackie and Gil made breakfast. 

"Oooooh, Malcolm has a hickey!" Ainsley squealed! 

"It's not a hickey," he glanced at Vijay, blushing, "I had a run in with a vampire."

[notgonnarememberthis]

Honey

Hello!! After last week’s sequence I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head and had to write it down but I promise I am working on the next chapter of fywbym. Hopefully this angsty little one shot can keep y’all happy until then!! Enjoy!!!

Jessica spins in the mirror for the hundredth time, reassessing the dress Ainsley picked out all over again. Not that she doesn’t trust her daughter’s decision, no, her intuition is normally on point. However, absolutely nothing can go wrong tonight. She has worked 21 years to have this night.

When Gil asked her to dinner out of the blue she’d almost dropped her tea. Sure they’d unofficially been dating for a couple weeks but dinner felt solidifying. A public statement would be made, tabloids would explode with headlines how The Surgeon’s ex-wife has a new man in her life. It will be all over the news by tomorrow.

Oh, Martin would be so furious.

The thought makes her smile even wider.

Almost on cue her phone begins to ring, with her tongue pressed behind her teeth she checks the caller ID. Relief spreads through her at the picture that pops on the screen. She picks it up, holding it to her ear. “Couldn’t wait to see me?” She teases with a flirtatious lull.

“Nope.” Gil pops the end of the word and she can hear the giddiness in his tone. It fills her chest with a warmth that has been so rare over the past few months. It leaves her feeling like she should be dancing through the hallways like a drunken teenager. So carelessly free that her happiness can’t be contained.

Even Malcolm and Ainsley have joined in on the feeling. They’ve shared family dinners with Gil at the table more than a few times now. Ainsley bouncing with glee at their hands clasped together and Malcolm sitting a little taller with each exchanged glance. Her family, at last, feels complete.

“I was just calling to let you know I’m running a little late. We’re polishing off a case but I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I haven’t even left yet. I want to make sure I look perfect.” She passes by a mirror and checks her hair once again, fluffing the curls with her free hand.

“You would look beautiful in pajamas.”

“You say that because you have the dream of me in one of your turtlenecks.” His chuckle sends fire running through her veins and she bites her bottom lip.

“I prefer you with nothing on, actually.” She stammers thoughtlessly, her brain short circuiting after being beaten at her own game. His laugh sends a blush across her chest and she coughs trying to pull herself together. “Did I actually just make a Whitly speechless?”

“Hardly.” She purrs making a swift recovery from being thrown off track. “Just didn’t know if you wanted everyone at your work to know.”

“I don’t care. Let them know.” Now she really feels like dancing across the room.

“Oh, you’re definitely getting a treat tonight.”

“Promise?” Her laugh cuts off when she hears a door close from the other room. She pokes her head out the door of her bedroom and listens for a moment. “Jess?” She hears the line call out to her at the sudden silence. Sure enough she can hear footsteps coming from the main hall.

“Malcolm!” She calls out, “You really should have called to let me know you’d be coming. I was just about to head out!” She shakes her head when her son doesn’t respond. She huffs pulling the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about that.”

“Jess, Malcolm is still here.” Gil’s voice sounds apprehensive. “I’m looking at him right now.” Her heart thumps heavily in her chest. She knows he has a window in his office and it makes sense that Malcolm would be there at least until he left, determined to see these cases all the way until the end.

“Well it can’t be Ainsley, she goes on air in an hour.” She tries to laugh away the anxiety pooling in her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right. She shakes out her hand grabbing her clutch from her vanity. “It must be Adolpho. I have been taking much longer than usual.” The half hearted noise Gil makes is indicative that he’s not convinced. Truth be told, she isn’t either. Adolpho had only ever come inside to check on her once and it was when Ainsley was so sick that she had to cancel attending a gala all together to take care of her.

She’s just overreacting though, it has to be Louisa. Or maybe Ainsley forgot a file and came back to the house to retrieve it. Surely she’s imagining that the footsteps sound heavier than she’s familiar with.

Surely.

“Jess, stay there. I’ll be there soon. Don’t hang up.” She could hear him gathering his things over the line and barking out an order to another officer about finishing up the file. He should bring Malcolm, she thinks absentmindedly. Just in case something were to happen.

She shakes her head trying to will the dark thought away. She’s just anxious, is all. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything at all. She rounds the corner of the dining room trying to compose her best annoyed look to mask her deepest fears. However it fell as quickly as it appeared when she laid eyes on the person standing there.

Martin stands in the middle of the room, his eyes tracing over the walls with an almost gleeful smile on his face. A brown jacket covers his white psychiatric ward uniform. Briefly, she recognizes the jacket from his office in the basement. It should have gone up in flames with the rest of his things; it made no sense for it to be there.

This has to be a nightmare.

That’s it. This is a sick twisted nightmare from her subconscious. She just needs to wake up. Yet when he turns around to face her with that smile she stumbles back all the same. She crashes into the bar cart sending the glasses and bottles crashing to the floor with her weight. The pain that echoes through her side is a horrific confirmation.

This isn’t a dream.

“I have to go.” Her voice is thick, betraying the fear in her tone. She hears Gil try to fight but she hangs up anyways. Martin has always been jealous of Gil. It was probably safer to keep him busy until Gil arrived. Not let him know. However, when her eyes meet his she instantly regrets every choice she made.

“Jessie!” The nickname alone makes her feel sick to her stomach. She should have trusted her intuition. Run to the back and hid there until Gil came to get her. She should have listened, fuck. “It’s remarkable how different it all looks. Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Martin-” Her voice barely comes out in a whisper. She swallows before trying again, “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m home!” Now she really feels sick, gripping onto the cart for the support her heels are denying her. He spreads his arms like expects something; what a hug? She shuts down the expression of disgust before it crosses her features. She stands up straight, steeling herself with a cold gaze. All the while her hand reaches behind her for something, anything to protect herself with. She feels a sense of calm when her fingers successfully wrap around the heavy metal shaker. “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

‘No,” She sighs. “That was just Malcolm.” The lie spills off her tongue effortlessly. In any other setting she’d tell the truth and revel in rubbing it in his face. He tilts his head with narrowed eyes. If he senses that she’s being anything other than truthful, he doesn’t say. But he senses the lie regardless, of course the pathological liar would. She would need to do better than that.

“You’re awfully dressed up to be spending the night alone.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh,” His face darkens and she stumbles to find a new purchase.

“I have a meeting with the new investors of the Sanders’ Foundation. I made a promise to Malcolm that I’d carry on Eve’s charity after she passed. We’re officially signing tonight. It’s a celebratory dinner.” It’s not entirely a lie. She had that meeting last week, not tonight. When his posture straightens up she lets herself breathe a little easier.

“Well you look beautiful. Personally I’ve always preferred you in red, but the green is lovely too.” She weighs her options as he steps closer. The shaker is heavy and if she’s accurate she can stun him at least. From there her plans are null. Where can she run to where he wouldn’t know about, that he wouldn’t suspect from her. One of the guest rooms would work but she’s outmatched if she gets caught.

It’d be safer to play along. “Can I make you a drink?” He glances down at the shattered bottles with a raised eyebrow. “I have more in the kitchen.”

“Where is my boy?”

“Finishing off a case. Surely he talked to you about the-”

“The Candyman, yes I’ve been keeping up with Ainsley’s broadcasting. Riveting stuff.” He smiles, an empty one devoid of all emotion. “Where is she? I’ve been wishing to speak with her for,” He sighs. “Well for ages.”

Absolutely not. Her protective instincts shift into high gear. At least at the precinct Malcolm is safe from him, however she doesn’t trust Ainsley’s studio enough. She would not send him directly to her. No matter what it cost her. “Surely trying to get a closing argument from her brother that’s actually on the record.” Martin guffaws at that, the harsh sound causing her to jump. The sound stops as soon as it started when his eyes land on something new.

“Who’s that from.” It’s not a question. His eyes are trained on the bracelet on her wrist. It’s a simple thing, far less attention grabbing than anything else she’d worn in the past. A simple gold chain with two birthstones intertwined, Malcolm and Ainsley’s. It’d been a birthday gift that she wore fondly.

From Gil.

“Jessie.” The tone comes out as a warning. His eyes are trained on her but with his head tilted upwards his eyes are focused down. Like he’s looking down on her. As if he has any right to the truth, much less to her.

A lie here would be pointless. He knows it’s nothing either of the children would have gotten her. Gifts between the three of them rarely ventured outside of an expensive bottle of alcohol. Who needed them when they could buy anything they could possibly want? Truth be told, the bracelet having been the first gift she’d received in over 15 years brought tears to her eyes.

Of course she had to pick tonight to wear it.

“It’s from Gil.” She’s proud that her voice doesn’t shake with the statement. Her entire body is doing enough of that just standing a few feet from this man. 

“You have a date.” The last word spits out like venom. She tightens her jaw, anger blossoming beneath her chest. How dare he? As he steps forwards again she makes the split second decision.

She swings the cup with all of her might, ready to bolt as soon as she makes connection with his head.

She almost did. He, however, seemed just as prepared for the attack catching her wrist in his hand with ease. The cup clatters loudly to the ground as she drops it, all the momentum of her anger dissipating in a split second.

For a frightening moment they are chest to chest. She can feel his breath fanning her face while his unreadable gaze traces over her features. This close she’s almost certain he can feel how fast her heart is beating, that he can read the fear beneath her rage, he can feel the tremor of her wrist clasped tight in his grip.

Three swift knocks stop whatever he planned to say or do. Strong, heavy raps indicative of the police at her doorstep. For a moment she’s not certain that he will even react. His face an absolutely terrifying blank slate. Then a lighter, much more frantic knock.

“Mom!” She can hear Malcolm calling out to her. “Mom, open the door!”

She watches the switch in Martin’s eyes, a teasing laugh escaping his lips. “Our children have always had horrible timing.”

“I should get that.” She whispers side stepping out of his way. Yet as she walks, he pulls her wrist back spinning her to face him again. He’s making a decision, she recognizes in horror. Whether to take her with him or let her go. She bites her cheek so hard that she can taste copper on her tongue.

She would put up a hell of a fight.

She would lose.

He draws her hand to his lips pressing a kiss to it with a smile. “I’ve missed you. I’ll see you soon.” And he let’s go.

She doesn’t hesitate to see where he goes. In all honesty, it doesn’t matter to her in the slightest as she rushes to the door. Safety is so close but the hallways feel like they stretch forever with Malcolm’s pleading tone getting farther and farther.

Wrenching the door open to see Malcolm and Gil staring at her terrified feels like waking up from a nightmare. Malcolm crashes into her with a quick hug that she barely has time to return before he’s rushing off to see what the hell had spooked her over the phone. Gil’s face is stone, looking at her with a mixture of worry and annoyance.

He knows. Only one person in the world can scare her that much.

“Jess,” He sighs, relief and comfort soothing her fears. “Are you alright?” She shakes her head, almost indecipherably as the tears finally slide down her face. All the rage, terror, and anxiety of the past few minutes crashing over her as she falls into his arms. Gil is the only thing holding her upright as she slips into the cascade with Martin’s threat still ringing in her ears.

I’ll see you soon.

[shineonmalcolmbright]

Shine On, Bright: Chapter Five

Table of Contents

Past

Ainsley Whitly didn’t know what a friend is so she didn't know what to say when two girls called out a hello to her. Two girls who looked like mirror images of one another stood down a long, thin hall where red and orange shapes eat each other. Ainsley thought of all the time she looked at her reflection but if she reached out to touch her hand, she’d touch glass when this was different. Mirrors never spoke up, too. These girls did.

“What’s your name?” they asked in unison.

“I’m not supposed to speak to strangers,” replied Ainsley.

Both girls looked at each other before looking back at Ainsley. “Come play with us.”

Ainsley glanced to see Malcolm is still in the lobby with the one man. They stared at each other without exchanging any words so she started down the hallway. The two girls said nothing as they turned around to walk down the hallway, away from Ainsley who didn’t look back anymore. Instead, she just goes forward, following the two girls.

Before Ainsley could catch up, a door swung open almost hitting her in the face. Martin walked out following a man as they still chatted. The two almost run over Ainsley who doesn’t even notice. Good thing Martin catches her.

“What are you doing over here all alone?” Martin asked her. “Where’s your brother?”

Ainsley pointed down the hall to the girls, but they’re gone by that point. Both Martin and the man he stood with looked with her. Any empty hall full of closed doors and eating shape after shape after shape.

“Go back to your brother, I’m busy right now.” Martin steered her back toward the lobby right when Malcolm darted into the hallway. He tripped up over the rug realizing his father was there. “Malcolm! Where were you?”

“The lobby.” Malcolm looked at Ainsley just glad she was alright.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Outside with the moving van.”

As if on cue, Jessica’s voice rang throughout the lobby while she yelled at somebody.

Martin smiled. “Stay with your mother, I’m going on a tour to learn about the hotel.”

“Can I come?” Malcolm piped up right away. The words happened before he could think about what he was saying.

And yet Martin smiled, there was something tight about the way he spoke. He wanted them both gone. Malcolm took Ainsley by the hand. “I said stay with your mother. There’s a lot of areas not for kids around here.” With that, Martin and the man started down the hallway.

Malcolm led Ainsley away catching some words passing between Martin and the man. 1910. . .Mafia. . .strange happenings. . .his way to the boiler room. He stopped before Jessica who smiled at the two.

“I’m going to help dad,” Malcolm told Jessica.

Ainsley looked at him without comment.

“Ok, but that means you don’t get first choice of bed,” replied Jessica.

“Fine with me.” Malcolm nodded before he headed off after Martin and the other man. He hesitated at the start of the hallways, closing his eyes as he listened to all the voices around. Not much. Most of the rooms were empty with people leaving before the snow began because once it did, they’d be stuck there.

You’ll want to. . .

Malcolm opened his eyes and smiled. Got them. He took off following the voices of Martin and the man. Curiosity carried him forward toward a heavy door. It took some effort to get it open and descend toward the basement. Something roared down there. Once he reached the shadows, Malcolm realized he made a mistake. It wasn’t even his idea to follow through with sneaking around. He never was that kind of person. Felt almost as if something else compelled him there.

The man speaking to Martin highlighted the importance of checking the furnace because otherwise it’ll blow and if it did, they’d all die, too. Malcolm sank to the ground looking at a few boxes surrounding him. He pulled what looked like a scrapbook. Dust exploded into his face, tickling his nose.

Maaaaaalcolm, somebody whispered.

Before Malcolm opened the scrapbook, he looked around. The voice wasn’t one he recognized. Not his father. Not Gil. He kept it waiting on his lap. The man was too busy explaining to Martin how to make sure they don’t all perish in a fiery death.

Maaaalcolm! It turned into a quick, short whisper snapping through the dark.

Nobody else stood around him.

“While we are down here, there is information I need to include,” the man continued his tour. Malcolm glanced at them without cracking open the scrapbook. He lowered their voice even though the two have no idea they’re not alone. Before the man continued, Malcolm looked to see it wasn’t much of a scrapbook but instead a book of collected newspapers. “There’s been a lot of scandals at the Overlook.”

Malcolm!

But he couldn’t pry his attention from the page in front of him. It’s one of those tabloid papers without a care for the story. A lurid headline dictates: Family Annihilator. Blood was clear even in black and white.

“It gets lonely up here in the winter without anywhere to go. The last caretaker murdered his whole family, took an ax to his daughters and wife. By the time anybody could make it to the Overlook, their bodies were frozen. Winters get real cold up here.”

“Intriguing,” ended up being Martin’s only response.

Malcolm heard their words but failed to look from the newspaper scrap before him. White clothes like Halloween ghosts cover the corpses at the scene even with black sludge all over the walls. Blood smeared across it. The bodies are broken up looking unnaturally long, separate white sheets guard them from view. But the blood stains are clear all on them.

“I’m going to introduce you to somebody who works with plumbing because that’s going to be another one of your problems.” The conversation carried on upstairs beyond the roaring boiler room.

Malcolm stayed seated still trying his best to register every detail of the newspaper in front of himself and the idea of a family annihilator. So much death right at the hands of a father or mother or other family members. Here, a father. What caused somebody to do such a thing? He went to turn the page, Martin and the man were on the steps, they creaked under their weight as they reached almost the top.

Before Malcolm could change the page, somebody screamed at him again MALCOLM! He snapped his attention up to see a woman crouching close by, her body all distorted, her feet were on top of two boxes as she leaned across and touching one hand to the floor and one on a box. Her shoulder looked dislocated and her head about to fall off. Hello. . .Malcolm. . . A few teeth plopped right from her mouth, onto the floor with blood spittle running down the side of her mouth.

Malcolm slammed the scrapbook shut partially overhearing one more part of the conversation above.

“About forty-five people have died here since the hotel first opened, back in 1910,” the man continued before he struck the lights off in the boiler.

Pitch blackness stole the sight of the distorted woman, but it also stole any chance of escape. He sat there with the furnace roaring, a dim light fell from equipment but never enough to guide him to safety, it just added more shadows and possible imaginary haunts to the very real danger of ghosts.

[ao3feed-prodigalson]

by MissScorp

A former associate of Martin Whitly’s has decided to get revenge on him by taking away the only thing he cares about: Malcolm. There’s just a big black bat standing in the way.

Words: 9737, Chapters: 4/28, Language: English

Fandoms: Prodigal Son (TV 2019), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, Gen

Characters: Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo, Jessica Whitly, Ainsley Whitly, Jackie Arroyo, Martin Whitly, Mr. David, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, James Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Other Characters

Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jackie Arroyo, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Pre-Series, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Set in Prodigal Son Universe, Dick is Robin, Jason is adopted earlier than DC canon, Malcolm Bright Whump, Gil Arroyo is Malcolm Bright's Parent, Angst, Drama, Suicide Attempt, Near Drowning, Anxiety Attacks, PTSD out the whazoo, Malcolm is a danger prone dope, Malcolm gets a friend or three, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Might be a Jessica Whitly and Bruce Wayne relationship implied, There’s also a kidnapping, And maybe other things because I evil Scorp

[carnagemoved]

new muse tag dump xo