#keen2 fanfiction

[blacklister214]

Blacklist Secret Santa Gift

@takadasaiko​ Here’s your Secret Santa Gift! Enjoy!

Consequences

Strange how easy it was to take as commonplace things that once would have been considered unattainable luxuries. The girl who would one day become Scottie Hargrave would have never dared to dream of the high-rise the woman would call home. Not the closet of couture, not the priceless art adorning the wall, and not even the Egyptian cotton sheets that currently wrapped around her body like a decadent cocoon. Even ten years ago, long after she’d accepted such possessions as her due, the deep slumber she’d been experiencing would have been an indulgence completely beyond her reach. A decade later she’d come to expect a peaceful night’s rest. That was why, when she jolted awake, she knew instantly something had to be wrong.

Instinctively her hand flew to her nightstand for her gun. It wasn’t there. Of course. Scottie had locked it away in preparation for her granddaughter’s extended visit. Her gaze swept the room for the presence she sensed there. Sure enough, sitting in a chair ten feet away was a still figure assessing her with icy consideration. Scottie's heart leapt in her chest as her mind flew back decades in time. Katarina. It couldn’t be.

The woman leaned forward and the moonlight from the window partly illuminated her face. Scottie released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not Katarina. Masha, or rather Elizabeth, as she preferred to be called. Of course. That made far more sense than a ghost. Strange to have mistaken one for the other. Despite their relationship, mother and daughter looked very little alike. It was only now and then that something in Elizabeth’s posture or expression brought a flash of bittersweet recognition. 

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?” It had been weeks since she’d last seen her daughter-in-law, since Elizabeth had elected to go to war with Raymond Reddington over the murder of her mother. Pain shot through Scottie as she remembered that phone call. Elizabeth had explained what had happened. Katarina Rostova had miraculously returned from the dead, only to be murdered by the concierge of crime. 

Scottie had been so shocked, she didn’t know how she’d managed to absorb the rest of the details. Why hadn’t Katarina reached out? Scottie would have helped. Katarina had to have known that. Elizabeth hadn’t realized the impact of the information she was imparting. She’d merely been explaining why she needed Scottie to care for Agnes for an extended period of time.     

“So many things.” Eyes finally adjusting to the dark room Scottie suddenly focused on the gun Elizabeth was casually resting on her thigh. Adrenaline flooded the older woman’s system.

“Elizabeth, why do you have that gun?” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side in an uncanny imitation of Raymond Reddington. 

“Family is a funny concept isn’t it? I share blood with Agnes. Agnes shares blood with you. Suddenly I’m willing to turn my child over to a woman who shot up a church on my wedding day. Who tried to have me kidnapped. Who had my husband tortured.” Scottie could hear the quiet rage unlaying every word. Sins that had been forgiven, if not forgotten now blistered in her ears. Still, Elizabeth couldn’t claim superiority on every front. People in glass houses, as the saying went, shouldn’t throw stones.

“I’m not the only person in this room to have done that, if I recall. Tom forgave both of us-” 

Elizabeth raised her weapon so that it was now pointing directly between Scottie’s eyes. If she squeezed the trigger, that was it. At this range there was no way Katarina’s daughter would miss.

“Don’t you say his name!” There was so much anger and grief Scottie felt, for a moment, a twinge of shame. It was a novel experience to say the least. Still, she wasn’t such a hypocrite that she would apologize. If she’d had the choice, she knew she’d do it all over again.   

“You know.” When Elizabeth had first awoken from her coma, Scottie had feared discovery. She imagined Elizabeth might refuse to accept that her husband was gone. That she might have gone digging and uncovered the truth. Elizabeth hadn’t, probably because Harold Cooper had been a witness to “Tom’s” corpse. Reddington, she might have disbelieved, but not the assistant director of the FBI. That the truth should surface now, after so much time had passed was surprising. 

“I found Dr. Selma Orchard.” That explained it. The war with Raymond had pushed Elizabeth to dig more fiercely that she had before. Of course she’d reach out to Orchard. Scottie kicked herself for not having anticipated it. 

“I see.” She’d hidden the good doctor well, but Elizabeth was an FBI agent with all the resources that entailed. Scottie could easily image Orchard slightly relaxing her guard after years had passed. It wouldn’t have taken much.

“How?” Scottie had expected this question. What she’d achieved under the noses of the FBI AND Raymond Reddington was quite remarkable. If it hadn’t caused her so much pain, she might even be proud of herself.

“Tom called me before he got home. My people arrived just after Reddington. They followed you to the hospital. Tom flat-lined on the table, but they were able to resuscitate. Once he stabilized, I got him out. A few bribes. Doctored surveillance footage. The body Cooper saw was a German arms dealer surgically altered to look like Tom down to every last scar and faded tattoo.” She’d gotten the idea from the Independence, USA mission Tom himself had been a part of. Without that body there was no way Reddington would have believed Tom was really dead.

Elizabeth shook her head angrily, not in the mood apparently to be impressed. Scottie couldn’t exactly blame her.

“Not ‘how did you pull it off?’. I don’t CARE how you pulled it off. I meant ‘How could you do this?’ To me. To Agnes! You stole MY HUSBAND! You stole HER FATHER!” Now Scottie felt herself becoming angry. She “stole” him?! As if Scottie didn’t have as much, if not more of a claim on Tom. As if it were Scottie’s fault that Tom had nearly died. As if it was for Scottie that Tom had put himself in mortal jeopardy.

“I SAVED your husband. I SAVED Agnes’ father. I SAVED MY SON!” Scottie took a deep breath. She didn’t blame Elizabeth. Not really. Not for being angry. Not for Tom’s nearly fatal wounds. She hadn’t chosen to be born into the web of danger and deceit any more than Tom had. “This wasn’t some maniacal plan I hatched to cause you pain. Tom was in a coma. You were in a coma. I didn’t know when or if either of you would wake up. When I faked his death, I was only thinking of protecting him from the people who came after him and from Reddington.

It was only after I’d had him that I realized the truth. Tom would never be safe with you, even without knowing Reddington’s secret. There is nowhere the two of you could run that he wouldn’t find you. The same with Agnes. Reddington would NEVER let either of you go.” As a mother, she had had no choice. She wouldn’t let her boy die. Not again. Not when she could save him.

“And so you decided to take him away from both of us.” Scottie sighed. Elizabeth still didn’t understand. She hadn’t been the only one who’d lost him.

“Tom Keen would never leave his wife and child not for any reason. But Jacob Phelps was a survivor. He could be reasoned with.” With Orchard’s help she had rolled her son back to an earlier version. Someone who could be trusted to act in his own self interest, rather than that of his family.

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. I told him he’d had a violent falling out with Bill McCready a few years ago. That he’d recently started working for me. That Raymond Reddington wanted him dead and very nearly got his wish. That he had the funds to start over anywhere in the world he chose.” The memories were there, carefully edited by Orchard’s skill, and any gaps easily explained by the trauma he’d suffered.

“You didn’t tell him you’re his mother?” Scottie swallowed, recalling having to make that decision. There had been a time, a too brief time, when she’d seen a look in her son’s eyes. Love for her, for his mother. Quite the contrast to the wary expression the last time she’d seen them.

“No. I couldn’t risk it. He may have wanted to stay in contact. So you see, I didn’t do anything to you I didn’t do to myself.” If Scottie had expected sympathy, she was destined for disappointment. The look Elizabeth gave her now was pure contempt.

“Yes, you did. You let me think he was dead. You let me think Tom was dead because of me.” Scottie swallowed the retort about how that had very nearly been the case. That wouldn’t help the situation.

“Agnes was kidnapped when she was a baby. You went months without knowing if she was alive or dead. You have had a taste of what it feels like to lose your child. I had already buried my son once. I could not endure it again.” There it was, as much of an apology as she was capable of making. A plea, mother to mother, for Elizabeth understanding, if not forgiveness. She studied the FBI agent’s face and thought she detected, just for a moment, a softening of expression. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Where is he?” Scottie shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth raised the gun in silent threat. “You can shoot me, but it won’t change my answer. I didn’t want to live with the temptation.” Would Elizabeth shoot her? Scottie was still Tom’s mother. Agnes was still down the hall. Elizabeth’s thoughts seemed to follow a similar path as she glanced to the door. Her lips tightened as she stood. A decision had been made.

“I’m going to find him.” Scottie briefly closed her eyes. Why had her son married such a stubborn woman? 

“He’s not the same man you knew.” It was a desperate bid, but it was also the truth. Elizabeth had only ever known a man who loved her. Who’d wanted her enough to risk death to be with her. 

“And I’m not the same woman. It doesn’t matter. He still deserves the truth. He deserves to be able to make his own choices. Something neither you, nor Reddington can seem to grasp.” The comparison stung especially in light of recent events.

“Then I hope you can live with the consequences.” She gazed after Elizabeth, eyes following her through the door and lingering there long after. There was no point in laying back down. Sleep would not come for her again tonight. Instead her mind raced with all the things she had done, and all the things she had yet to do to save her son. 

“I hope we both can.” 

[takadasaiko]

Truth in the Lies: The Box

FFN II AO3

Summary: Liz and Tom unpack their new apartment and find Tom's old go-box. Set in S4.

The Box

It was quiet, the lights turned down low and Agnes finally tucked away and asleep in her crib so that her parents could continue the arduous task of unpacking their lives from the piles of boxes that filled the living room. Originally they had been packed away with the understanding that Kate would have them sent along to Cuba after things died down, but they never made it that far. Instead they'd gathered dust, waiting through their search for Agnes, the exhausting battle with Kirk, and finally until the Keens found their way out of Reddington's windowless safe house.

Somewhere along the way they had found Tom's old turntable in one of the many boxes. Soft music played out - not the Ramones, but just as good - and Liz leaned back for the partially-emptied bottle of wine that was sitting barely in reach to refill her glass. They hadn't found the appropriate glassware just yet, but the tumblers were doing the trick. She tilted a little too far and toppled off balance, straightening only enough to shoot Tom a faux-irritated look as he stifled his laugh.

"Yeah, what was that?"

"Nothing," he offered, holding his hands up, palms outward, as if he were surrendering before the battle began. Smart man.

Liz snorted and resumed her reach for the bottle.

"You need some help with that?" Tom asked, his tone more amused than not as she found far less wine than she expected left.

"Yeah. If we have another bottle that would be great."

"When have I ever let our wine supply run dry?" he teased as he stood.

Liz came back to sit cross-legged on the wooden floor and watched him as he moved to rifle through the bags of groceries he'd picked up while she'd been at work. "And that's why I married you. Twice."

"At least I know my worth," he laughed and returned with a bottle of Pinot. He shoved another box between them with his foot before taking a seat and starting in on opening the new bottle. "And the second time we didn't technically get married. We should probably fix that."

"Not sure we're going to find a reverend willing to meet us at eleven o'clock at night."

"Wine and unpacking it is then."

He refilled her glass and handed it over. Liz took a long sip before setting it aside and looking at the box between them. "I guess we should do at least one more?"

"You're the one that wanted this done by the end of the week."

"That's tomorrow."

"It's Friday, Agnes is asleep, and theoretically you don't have to be at work tomorrow. We've got this."

Liz watched as he took a box cutter down the center of the tape, expertly splitting each side and pulling it away. She leaned in, finding more packing material than she expected, and started to pull at it until she found something solid. A picture frame with the photo of her and her mother on the swing set behind the glass. A small smile tugged at her lips as she let her fingers roam across it, touching Katarina's hidden face and feeling a strange sense of warmth settling over her with it.

A soft breath from her almost-husband drew Liz's attention and she looked over, finding Tom holding his own prize that he'd found packed away. Paper lay abandoned to the side, loosing the old, familiar go-box from its hold and she watched him run his hands across the wood almost nostalgically before opening it. It was empty. She knew it was. He'd stored his various passports and less-than-legal documents in a folder that he'd had with him on his flight with Agnes to Cuba. That didn't stop his fingers from running across the edges of the lid or down into the crevice of the symbol. There was something strange about the movement. Something she'd never seen before when he handled it.

"I didn't know if it'd made it," he confessed softly.

"How long have you had it?"

"As long as I can remember."

There was something in the words that stopped her. Liz's head tilted to the side very slightly as she studied the man she loved, his focus on the box in his hands. The box that had been a symbol of her own blindness. It had housed lies and sheltered his secrets for so long. Buried down beneath the floorboards and the carpet of their dining room, if Reddington had never come into their lives, she might never have known it was there at all.

Funny thing, in the dim lighting of their new living room she felt like she'd seen the symbol on the lid somewhere other than on the offensive box before, and as she reached her free right hand out to touch his, she saw where on the burn scar on her wrist. Strange that she'd never noticed just how similar the two marks were before.

Dark blue eyes met her own and Tom's lips pulled into a thin, awkward, and questioning smile. "What?" he asked, uncertainty pulling heavily at the question.

Liz pulled in a breath, her mind working through the response. "I never knew you had it before… I guess I just thought it was a place to store fake passports."

He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."

"But you've had it a long time," she pressed.

His smile faded to a thin, even line and he pulled his hand away to run it through his dark hair. "Yeah. I mean, as long as I can remember. I used to…" She watched his jaw clench and filed another one of his signs of discomfort away. "I used to take it from house to house. I don't know how many before I landed at the Phelps household. I didn't own much. A couple of comics, a baseball card that someone told me was worth something…. A photo that I thought was of my family. No clue what put that in my head. Turned out it was a magazine clipping or something." He tried for an other smile, his lips tugging at one corner lopsidedly. "I was six."

"Kids have held onto stranger things," Liz murmured, tightening her hold on the photo of her mother. Adults too, if she were honest. She cleared her throat. "You said you were adopted, but you never said much about them. The Phelps'."

And just like that the smile was gone again, his expression closing off and he looked away. "Not much to say."

"Were they that bad?"

She watched the struggle, the promise of open honesty that he'd given her just the night before hanging heavily in the air and he swallowed hard. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight. "The Phelps' adopted me when I was seven. I think I went to the ER five times in the six years before I finally got away."

Liz felt her chest tighten and her eyes held his. "They hurt you?"

"We don't need to talk about this."

"Tom."

He cringed at the sound of his name and she hated how he almost flinched. She shouldn't push, she knew she shouldn't push, but something in her said this was important.

"I told you I'd try," he acknowledged. The lines on his face deepened as he tucked his chin and clenched his jaw, every inch of his demeanor screaming discomfort. When he spoke again, his voice was rushed, as if he were trying to get the words out before some long-instilled precaution stopped him. "He was drunk, she was complacent. I was… a little bastard, according to Frank. Sarcastic, ornery. I don't know. I just didn't like being shoved around."

"How did you get out?" Liz asked softly, almost regretting it as she did. Almost.

Tom shot her a look like she was asking him to confess to a series of crimes. Maybe she was, but it sounded more like he was the victim. "Yeah, I uh… He cracked a beer bottle over my head," he said as he ran his hand across the scar covered by his hair. She'd seen it when it had been buzzed short for his op in Germany, even if she hadn't given it a lot of thought at the time. "I think there might have been an argument. I don't know, but I got a couple things together and ran far enough that they couldn't send me back. This is the only thing I still have from before then. Thought about throwing it away more than once but just… never have."

Liz sat for a long moment as she let the story wash over her. She'd had her fair share of pain, but at least she'd had Sam to show her what it was like to be on the receiving end of love. Tom hadn't. All he'd known was pain and abuse and manipulation. It was no wonder he'd spent the better part of his life trying to be anybody else. Somehow, though, he'd come out on the other side of it. He could be violent and dangerous, but there was a gentleness that had managed to survive through it. She saw it in the way he held Agnes and felt it in how he loved her. He had said that his biological mother had abandoned him, but there had to be something buried in his past that had made it possible to love as deeply as he did despite everything life had put him through.

"Do you think the box is a link to your past?"

He settled back, glancing at it as he did. "Maybe. Doesn't really matter."

"Maybe your mom could -"

"We've been over this. I don't want anything to do with her. I know your past means a lot to you, but mine doesn't to me. This. Here. Now. That's what matters to me."

Liz swallowed the argument. There was no point when he dug in like that. Maybe someday she could convince him, but it wouldn't be tonight. Instead she set the photo still in her hand down and shifted to stand. She could feel his gaze on her, his voice hesitant. "Liz…?"

"Just a sec," she answered, moving into the kitchen. She checked two drawers before finally finding the one with the screwdriver in it and moved over to the vent in the wall. She crouched down, starting in on loosening the screws.

"What are you doing?" Tom didn't move from his place, but at least some of the tenseness had finally eased from his voice. It was almost amused, like he knew exactly what she was doing, but wanted verification before believing it.

"Well we're four flights up and we're just renting the place for now, so carving a secret hole in the floor probably isn't the way to go." She pried the tin screen loose and looked over her shoulder. "Passports are in the bedroom, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

She shot him an expectant look and he chuckled as he stood, disappearing long enough to retrieve them. He crouched down with her, handing over his go-box. She took it, fingers brushing across the old wood, and slid it into its new hiding place.

"I know I push you about looking into your past," she said softly as Tom handed her the vent covering to put back into place. "And if you're ever ready, I'm right here. With you."

He didn't say anything and she turned to look at him, finding the man she loved staring at her with wide, glassy eyes as if he didn't know what to make of the promise. She rocked forward, her hand sliding around to the back of his neck to pull him in. He met her halfway so that his lips pressed against hers, and when they finally broke the kiss neither were in a rush to put any distance between them. "I love you," he breathed, his voice trembling a little.

"You too," she answered softly and looked up, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "I don't know about you, but I really need a shower."

His lips tugged outward in a real smile. "That an invitation?"

"Sure hope so." She pressed one more playful kiss against his lips before popping to her feet, Tom following immediately behind her, leaving the box from his childhood stored safely away. The past could wait.

------

Notes:

So... it's been a while. Hi! lol

I've been sliding down a slippery slope and back into the Blacklist fandom full-force between working on my original scripts lately. The episode where Liz pulled Tom's go box out of the hideaway in the wall cut the breaks on it I think. I've been doing a full rewatch and I'm hoping to pick a multi-chapter Tom Lives fic up again during the hiatus. Who knows? I haven't had a ton of time for fic writing, but we'll see. I definitely have ideas for it.

This one came about in part from that episode and also a conversation I had with @tessabltheorist about how long Tom has had his box. She had the fantastic idea that it might have been something he had with him when he was taken and I love it. I happily blame her for helping to spark this idea.

[grilledkatniss]

Need a little incentive

If this gets, hear me out, more than EIGHT (8) NOTES by the time I wake up tomorrow, I'll make sure to finish a fic before tomorrow ends, even if it's just a first draft. I'll have it finished before I go to bed.

Might upload it on Wednesday *wink*

Or not

[midnightbrightlights]

Okay, friends...

Status update / anxious questions from your resident chaotic and procrastinating writer!!

- I AM working on the I Dare You rewrite, I promise! I've made a lot of edits I'm happy with, and I'll be reposting just as soon as I have a decent cushion of chapters so that I can hopefully keep to a posting schedule. I have no idea if anyone is actually still interested, but it'll be there nonetheless.

- I am in possession of the first eighty-ish pages of a Sherlock fic that I wrote to get out of my brain and then never posted anywhere. I know Sherlock already kind of had its heyday, and this particular fic was (oddly enough for me) a Mythea one, which I know isn't super popular, but let me know if anyone wants me to post it.

- I apparently really hated myself a couple years ago, and wrote Blacklist fic for ALL THREE of the main Liz ships. (My fucking brain I swear...) Again, if anyone is interested, tell me, and I'll post it!

- My last two short fics for The Sideblog™ have been promised and will appear eventually, promise. (Hopefully soon)

But yeah tl;dr I'm too lazy to edit my shit unless someone really wants me to, so just hit me up if you want to see any of this posted

[solo-vicious]

hey i’ve gotten a bunch of tom/liz prompts, but i’m still available to write more if anybody wants to send them in!! 

i’m working on a bunch of different things right now so i hope to have some of them up sometime tomorrow or by the weekend!

[trishvaylar]

OK, right after I have watched 08.19, this is what I must say

There are two things I am going to say, one is about Rederina, the other...well, we'll get to that anyway later on.

So, about Rederina: it has been sealed a long time ago in my mind that Rederina is actually canon endgame; this is what the writing crew leads us to, this is what James is acting out, this has been a logical ziggsaw puzzle all along and it works, it is possoble to complete it only as long as the Mother theory is the truth, which I believe wholeheartedly is true! So, 08.19 just put another puzzle piece into our hands - we are lead with Elizabeth right to the reveal, which could be only to her, or both to her and to us. But right now is the moment when Red and Liz could only fight back TOGETHER or fall together, and that is just not going to happen with season 9 in tow and the possible plans to keep the show running. I see it clear enough that it is perfectly possible to do season 9 right after the grand Rederina reveal - because I believe that Jon has no reason to be afraid of loosing audience when he has the support of the chennel! And I do see it that way - Jon will see Rederina through as endgame because all the clues, 08.19 included, are no coincidence at all. They are preparing end of the season reveal, and outing The Witch as an imposter and killing Townsend is not enough of a reveal for a season with a slogan "no more secrets". How they will keep going after that? We shall see to find out. But the moment Red came to save Liz yet again was such a Mother-Daughter moment, Red's voice breaking with emotion, not trying to down talk Liz, but taking all the blame with so much love...Liz will get her answers, she sure will get them soon. And we shall too. And we shall too!

Now, to the second thing, which is actually a shipping war! God, I hate shipping wars, but we are onto one right now. And the shipping war is between keen2 camp and keenler camp, united by the first part of both shipps, Elizabeth Keen.

Well, first things first: Keen is her husband's alias, in fact per her husband she is Elizabeth Hargrave! As for the second thing - I am a keen2 shipper, they are my OTP, I love them so much I can barely accept the probobal fact of Liz finding her female happiness with anyone else...BUT that is not the point. The point actually is that Liz is a widow, and for quite some time right now. She has a Daughter, Agnes, who is a little angel, and angels need protection; a little girl and a lonely widow her Mother, don't they deserve better even despite my shipping feelings? YES THEY DO!!! Liz will never feel the same way about anyone else, but she could feel differently, couldn't she???

What I mean is that friendship is sometimes a more solide base on which to build a family, then passion, lust, or even love...because friendship requires taking care of one another, and that is love enough. That is true love, without the sex element, or even with it. Friendly sex is a known social phenomena, way better then just by blow which means nothing to either of the participants of the process.

There is one thing the writers need not prove to me time and time again, because they already did, they were proving it for 8 seasons, in every other episode: LIZ AND DONALD CARE FOR EACH OTHER SO MUCH, THAT HARM OR DEATH OF ONE WOULD EMOTIONALLY DESTROY THE OTHER!

Does that mean I support keenler as a shipper? No. Does that mean I would be OK with Donald and Liz together in the end? As a couple, maybe with another baby? YES, I WOULD BE!

If it was not Donald we are talking about, I might have found myself less pliant as a keen2 shipper, because what I wish Liz to have is so much more then just someone to fuck! And Donald Ressler is NOT just someone to fuck for Elizabeth. He is a friend, a partner, a shoulder to cry on, an honest voice, someone who is always true to his friendship with her, someone who cares so much that he would die for her or lie for her, because he cares! Does he love her? Well, that is NOT the question, because how would we care without loving? Love requires care, care springs from love! One does not walk without the other.

Same with Liz! She cares about Donald, she needs him in her life in any capacity whatsoever, so wishing her to not be with Donald romantically would mean I do not wish Liz to be happy, to be with someone she cares about, and that would mean I do not love Liz, but in fact I do love her. And Tom loved her! And her being happy still even after Tom's death just means that Tom's wish is fullfilled, for he wanted her to ve happy, not lonely and miserable for the rest of her life!

Shipping war is one thing, but why don't we use our brain and realize that this is much more then just about a shipping war - it is about wanting the unifying part of both shipps to be happy. And that means another thing - we shippers of the two shipps have absolutely nothing to war over!

It is just the past and the present. And the present can not happen without the past. So, my friends keen2 and my friends keenler, and my friends resslingtons, all of us, let's stop the shipping war because it takes so much joy out of being just who we are! There is fanfiction for every shipp, an answer to all of our hopes, because canon could not sattisfy us all, that would be impossible.

So why fight over something we have no influence on?!? Why not just enjoy the ride while it lasts? We know that nothing lasts forever!

Good day to you all, my friends in TBL fandom: rederinas, keen2s, keenlers, resslingtons and all the rest of the gang! Good day to all of you! And to each one! ❤

[melacka]

N, O, S ✨

N - Your favorite fanfiction or fanauthor 

Okay, but why you gotta start with such a tough one, huh? Now, I’m not so good at choosing favourites and I read a LOT of fanfiction, so I’ve always got some good ones to go back to. In terms of authors, I would say that my favourites are Lady_of_the_Refrigerator, Sera_Clay, TravelingSong, anextrapart, LakeyLou and imyourplusone for TBL. I‘ve got nice long lists of favourites for my other fandoms as well, but I’m going to assume that TBL is the one you’re interested in. If I absolutely had to choose a favourite story for TBL, it would probably be Still Too Young To Know by anextrapart.

(And yes, I know that I should link all of those. I’m sorry, you’ve caught me in a lazy moment…)

O - Choose a song at random, which OTP does it remind you of

So I put my itunes library on shuffle and got You’re my woman by Van Morrison. And it gave me some pretty strong Lizzington vibes, I’m not gonna lie. I mean, look at these lyrics:

I love youI really love youMy heart is for youMy heart is for youI long to feel youI long to feel youAnd every time I doAnd every time I doAnd every time I doBaby, it’s you, you are my sunshineI am your guiding lightJust like a ship out in the nightReturning for a light, oh yeah

I mean, come on.

Interestingly, while I was writing this out, Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles came on and I got some very strong Keen2 vibes, which is my ultimate NOTP.

GoodbyeShould be sayin’ that to you by now, shouldn’t I?Layin’ down the law that I live byWell maybe next timeI’ve got a thick tongueBrimming with the words that go unsungI simmer then I burn for a someoneThe wrong one

…

Say it’s coming soonSomeday without youAll I can doIs get me past the ghost of youWave goodbye to meI won’t say I’m sorryI’ll be alrightOnce I find the other side of somedayOoh, how’m I gonna get over you?I’ll be alright, just not tonightSomeday, oh I wish you’d want me to stayI’ll be alright, just not tonightSomeday

Anyway. Moving on.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon 

My favourite headcanon revolves around friendship, rather than my romantic ships, tbh. I love the idea of Liz and Dembe being really good friends and enjoying each other’s company. They buy each other little presents, Agnes calls him Uncle Dembe and he loves to babysit for her, Liz and Dembe teasing the hell out of Red, going to each other advice, Dembe teaching Liz how to cook something that Red loves, Liz trying to set him up with someone because any woman would be lucky to have him. You know, the good stuff.

Another favourite headcanon is where Red and Liz actually talk to each other about all the trauma they have both been through since they came together. Working through it as adults, moving past it as stronger people. I know. Pretty wild, right?

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it got a little long but I was having too much fun with it.

[meetmeatthecoda]

All right well...

... I didn’t think I’d be making any more posts about The Blacklist any time soon but hey, life has a way of surprising you that way (see: the current American political climate). So I have some feelings about tonight’s ep (WHAT ARE FEELINGS I BARELY REMEMBER) and, believe it or not, they’re mostly good! So, in case there’s anybody still out there who gives a shit about this show and/or my opinions about it, here’s a summation of my current state of mind.

Fair warning: This is a long-ass post.

Okay so last week’s ep was complete shit. The whole “WE HAVE A BIG SURPRISE CAUSE OH NO A MOLE WHO COULD IT POSSIBLY BE OH WHOOPS WE SPOILED IT IN THE PROMO BUT OH WELL WE’LL JUST PRETEND WE DIDN’T” fiasco with nary a scene with both Red and Liz in a room together because, what, like that works? Whatever, you get it, it was crap. But I’m gonna talk about THIS week because my sanity is important to me.

So. I actually thought it was really pretty good (I know, how are pigs not flying and meatballs not falling from the sky). As long as you ignore the vomit-inducing Keen2 playing house and “repairing their relationship” bullshit. (That was physically hard to type btw.) There was actually an interesting, if initially slightly creepy, blacklister story, no completely boring post office team shit, Red displaying some very interesting goals and behavior (ohhh, don’t worry, we’ll get back to that), and some actual Red/Liz interaction. Shocker. So, obviously, I’m gonna focus on Red & Liz because.... well, what the fuck else is there? Okay, so.

First of all, let this lizzington rant be prefaced by the fact that, yes, I know Tom still exists, unfortunately, but he is leaving for the blessed spin-off in February hopefully after a Jupiter-sized blow-up fight with Liz that will make him never come back. Ever. This hope is inspired by the stupid, god-forsaken promo that I accidently saw on NBC the other night where Tom says into a phone, “A second chance. That’s all I want.” Didn’t he already get this? You know, when Liz took back her abuser and started a family with him? Why would he need another (fifteenth) second chance? Did the whole “perfect family” thing with Liz fall through? Why, oh why, would that be? A discrepancy about parentage of one little girl perhaps? (second filming in the shipping container anyone?????? Pleaseijustreallywantthattocometosomethingcanyoublameme) Well whatever. I don’t care what drives Tom away so long as something does. So with the spin-off, I’d like to think we’re pretty much guaranteed that, at least for a little while (dare I type it?) So with that in mind, I’m just gritting my teeth through the Tom scenes for now. Okay, moving on. Also because I apparently have nothing better to do than watch this stupid show out of the corner of my eye while pretending to be on my computer and not let this shenanigans affect me at all

So. Back to where we all want to be: Red&Liz. Based on this ep, they seem to be on pretty interesting footing. Liz thanked Red. Maybe it was a bit of a backhanded compliment. Oh well. I think we’ve come to expect that from Liz. At least she mentioned it. I’ll take it. I was, however, surprised by Red’s rather frosty reception. He’s not groveling at her feet for scraps of attention as he once did. As @ihaveyoulizzington graciously reminded me, Red & Liz still haven’t really talked since Liz faked her death and Red was wrecked. So yeah. Some residual hard feelings are to be expected. Since being reminded of that, Liz’s cheerful, friendly attitude is a little ridiculous, per usual. But I think she is trying to be nice, with the whole Red asking to see her new place (CUTE BABY) and her kindly saying, “not yet, maybe someday” (some DAY?! Not some TIME?! Are you SHITTING me?!) and Red’s cute pouty lip and “welp, okay then, whatever” expression. In summary, I think they’re trying. (The puzzle piece was also very symbolic, I thought. As soon as Liz said “someday” and Red accepted that, the last puzzle piece fit right into place. Maybe with that promise from Liz, Red can start putting himself back together again, just like that puzzle. At least that’s what I got from it.)

And now back to Red’s behavior. From the beginning of this ep, I thought that it was a little strange. The first scene or so of the ep was depicting Tom and Liz’s “blissful home life” (a la the pilot) and then they went to Red in that weird all white apartment, freaking out the real estate lady, when he usually goes to such lengths to put innocent non-criminals, especially women, at ease around him. And for the whole ep, he was obsessed with the white carpet and how there was no stain. Red is usually not stuck on one topic for that long. But he just kept raving on about it with a weird look in his eye. I think he was trying to block out the guilt he still feels (and Dembe is still inflicting) over Kate’s “murder” (in quotes bc she’s still alive bc no one dies on this show). This manic, obsessive behavior coupled with trying to complete an all-white puzzle in an all-white apartment throughout the whole ep was, I though, really meant to represent his current mental state. Kind of shell-shocked, not processing everything that’s happened and affected him more than he’s willing to let on, in denial about a lot of his feelings, feeling distanced/never really reunited with Lizzie, and just his ever present mountain of guilt. Just call him Atlas, amiright? Sorry, I’ll stop. So yeah, I think Red is really lost and hurting and it looks like that’s gonna come to a head real soon and I couldn’t be more glad that they’re actually showing that. ALSO, DEMBE. THAT PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL. I HAVE MANY FEELINGS. Firstly, when that underling Red manipulated into betraying his boss asked Dembe, “Could you shoot your boss?” and Dembe said, “I don’t know.” WHAT. NO. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TPTB. DON’T YOU DARE RUIN THE MOST PRECIOUS, INNOCENT, HEALTHY, AND SOLID RELATIONSHIP ON THIS SHOW WITH YOUR BAD CHOICES. NO. DEMBE LOVES RED LIKE A FATHER AND RED LOVES DEMBE LIKE A SON. DON’T YOU DARE RUIN THAT. I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE YOU. IS2G. *ahem* Sorry. I mean I get that Dembe has some hard feelings about Red “killing” Kate, that’s only to be expected, cause I imagine Kate was the only mother Dembe ever really knew. So I get it. But Red is also the only father Dembe knows and Dembe would never hurt him. Never. It was much more in character and exponentially pleasing to me to see Dembe go to Liz about Red instead. Like yes. That is straight out of fanfic and I’m fucking here for it. And before Dembe mentioned the whole “Red ‘killed’ Mr. Kaplan btw I don’t think you knew g2g bye” I was ALL FOR Liz going to Red because SHE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN HELP HIM and saying, “Red… I’m here. Come back to me. I need you to be here.” Etc. Don’t fucking get me started, I can reference a list of approximately 894 fanfics where this happens and I want to see every single one play out on screen. Anyway. In reality, it’s probably going to be an angry confrontation but I’m actually looking forward to it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there will be tension and anger between the two of them because of a NEW ISSUE. NO FATHER DRAMA OR “I WANT ANSWERS” BLAH BLAH this is a new thing that hasn’t been addressed before that has strong emotional connections for both of them and I’m here for that ensuing argument like

Liz: “Red, how could you?! She was only trying to help me! And she loved you! How could you not at least try to forgive her?!”

Red: “She took you from me! I almost died when I lost you and she was behind it all! I cannot forgive that, not even for her!”

Like yes. That’s some good-ass drama and some feelings may come to light and I’m here for that shit. Yes.

Anyhoo, before I get too carried away with that (even though restraint is kind of a lost cause at this point in this endless post), let’s just touch on that promo, shall we? Undercover-thief!Liz. Sign me up. That shit has potential. And with that above argument leading into Liz just snapping, “I’m going undercover. Don’t try to contact me. I think it’s best that we spent some time apart anyway. Goodbye Red.” And then Liz goes undercover to be a younger, hotter, more criminal Liz all while Red looks on with that anger and tension bubbling underneath and he can’t help but find himself even more hella attracted than usual to this especially sexy version of Liz that is all of a sudden a lot more like him. Yus. Gimme some of that, please and thank you. This is practically fanfiction writing itself. I have about 57 scenarios running around in my brain, half that I’ve read in fanfic already and half that I definitely want to read asap. Example: Red not listening to Liz and bursting in on the undercover scene and taking out his frustration with her by introducing himself as her bf or husband or some kind of sexual relation and they get rid of some of that tension by acting sexy for the others cause they gotta sell that fake relationship so Liz doesn’t get made, right? No I don’t have a favorite trope of course not why do you ask Anyway, what I’m saying is this could actually go somewhere, ya know? I’m kinda excited.

Sooooo believe it or not, I will watch next week and hopefully enjoy it. Here’s hoping for a good time. Also PLEASEEEEE for the love of god please let this spawn some undercover-thief!Liz and interfering-criminal!Red sexy fanfic. Please. Okay, thanks bye.

(Also, if you made it to the end of this shit-ass post, you deserve an award. K.)

[blacklister214]

Second Son Chapter 7: Lucky

I checked and apparently it has been almost a year since I’ve updated this one...so sorry about that and thanks for sticking with the story! Here’s the url for the whole story on Fanfiction.net. Enjoy!

Jacob glanced at the dashboard clock and found to his dismay He’d only been on the interstate for eleven minutes. It felt much longer. His gaze traveled to the grim-faced occupant of his passenger seat. Jacob’s stomach clenched in an unfamiliar way.

This should have been a good moment for him. It had been less than an hour since Jacob and Elizabeth Scott had left the Nebraska Department of Health and Human Services and begun the drive to the girl’s home. She hadn’t argued with him, or tried to renege on their deal. In a few hours all of his efforts will have paid off and he’d be returning to Reddington’s side with his mission accomplished. This should have made him happy. He was going back to where he belonged.

Over the past few weeks Jacob had found that he missed the older man’s company. He missed Reddington’s quirky anecdotes. He missed being prodded to try some seemingly inedible dish. He missed sharing a quiet drink after a successful business negotiation. Despite wishing to return to his long-time companion however, Jacob’s feelings about leaving Nebraska were muddled.

Elizabeth Scott shifted slightly in her seat and Jacob forced himself keep his eyes on the road. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, of course. It was the girl. He was unhappy because the girl was unhappy. Why was anyone’s guess.

According to the file he’d once stolen from his social worker, Jacob had an ‘attachment disorder.’ He ‘lacked empathy’ and ‘struggled to form emotional bonds’. For the most part Jacob couldn’t argue with that assessment. Even with Dembe, the caring had come gradually. With Liz it was different. He only spent a few hours in her company and yet somehow it had been enough for him to connect with her. It was probably for the best he’d be cutting with the farm girl sooner rather than latter. If she had this effect on him now, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he stayed.

Jacob shook himself. He couldn’t believe he’d even allowed himself to entertain the thought. Jacob Phelps, settling in Nebraska, just to be close to some girl? It was beyond ridiculous. He had to do something, distract himself from his errant thoughts.

“You okay?” Brilliant opening line. Reddington would have been so impressed with his conversational skills. Liz didn’t even bother to turn her head away from the window.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jacob’s mind flashed to Elizabeth as she’d been inside Reeves’ office. The caseworker had been jumpy when he’d passed the file into Liz’s eager hands. Jacob had forced himself to respect her privacy and not read over her shoulder. Instead he’d kept his eyes on Reeves, who he’d been concerned might pass out from the terror over breaking department policy. He’d been sweating like he’d just turned over nuclear missile codes to the Russians. They’d all sat in silence for ten minutes as Elizabeth read and re-read the documents. At last she’d stood, put the envelope on Reeves’ desk and told Jacob she was ready to go home. That was the last thing said to him in the past forty minutes.

“You seem quiet.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t  talk unless I have something to say.” Jacob was silent a moment as he weighed his options. Clearly Elizabeth wasn’t eager to share her thoughts with him. On the other hand she was obviously having some kind on internal struggle. If he kept prodding she might change her mind and choose to vent to him.

“Do you regret reading the file?”

“None of your damn business.” Jacob smirked at Elizabeth’s increasingly spiky tone. If he kept going, she was definitely going to explode.

“I’m just saying if you wanted to talk about it-” Elizabeth suddenly turned to Jacob eyes flashing dangerously.

“I don’t, so stop bugging me!” Jacob glanced at his passenger’s face and registered that the expression was very similar to the one she’d wore before she’d flipped a table over and attacked him. Under ordinary circumstances he wouldn’t have minded sparring with Elizabeth Scott, but given that he was currently driving at over 60 miles per hours, now probably wasn’t the best time for a physical altercation.

“Copy that.” It was time to change tactics. Fortunately he had a plan B already in place and Liz’s comment had inspired him.

Jacob kept his left hand on the wheel of the car while his right groped for the top of the storage compartment between his and Liz’s seats. He flipped the lid open and withdrew a plastic case.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting in a CD. You clearly don’t want to talk. We have two more hours on the interstate, and radio reception tends to be unreliable.” He slide the metallic disk into the player and advanced to the fifth track. He grinned as the rapid beats blasted out the car’s speakers.

“Are you serious?” Jacob turned to her, his face a picture of innocence.

“What? I like this song.” It wasn’t a lie, technically. Admitted he’d had hadn’t been an immediately convert to Destiny’s Child, but there was something catchy about the rhythm of this track at least.  

“Bullshit.” Jacob’s smile widened. If she didn’t believe that he was indeed a fan, he’d be more than happy to demonstrate for her. He started bopping his head to the music.

“I wanna put your number on the call block. Have AOL make my emails stop, cause you a bug a boo. You buggin what? You buggin who? You buggin me, and don’t you see it ain’t cool.”

As Jacob sang, he watched Liz out of the corner of his eye. He could see the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought to suppress a smile at his antics. This spurred him on to an even more impassioned performance, until finally he had her laughing.

“You’re an asshole.” There was no venom in her insult, in fact it was almost affectionate. A warm feeling washed over him, as he looked at her chuckling over his clownish behavior. He’d made her happy, if only for this brief moment. He took a strange amount of pride in that.

“Come on, you know you want to...” He nodded at the speakers.

She rolled her eyes, then began half-heartedly, “When you show up at my door you're buggin me.”

Jacob joined her, “When you open up your mouth, you're buggin me. Everytime I see your face you're buggin me, you're buggin me, you’re buggin me.”

By the time the song finished they were both in stitches. Jacob was perfectly willing to continue their car karaoke, but Liz reached out and hit the stop button on the player.

“Why’d you kill my jam?” He was genuinely confused. He had thought they were both having a good time.

“Destiny’s Child is not your jam. You got that CD because of me.” Jacob considered lying, but found he didn’t really want to. Instead he decided on the route of verbal ambiguity. It was a technique he’d learned from Reddington, who was a great fan of obscure truth.

“I noticed their poster in your bedroom, but that doesn’t mean I can’t like them.” Jacob answered Liz’s sceptical look with a shrug. “It’s true. I travelled a lot growing up and the man who raised me believed in embracing a broad range of cultural experience. Have you ever heard of Tuvan throat singing?”

“No.”

“It’s impressive. These guys can sing two to four notes at a time. Of course it isn’t always melodic. At certaining points the singer can sound like they are burping for a really long time.” Jacob’s mind flitted back to the festival Reddington that dragged him and Dembe when they were 15 and 16. At one point they’d looked at each other and burst out laughing. Reddington had scolded them, but the glint in his eye had told Jacob that he hadn’t really been angry.

“You’re making this up. I bet Tuva isn’t even a real place.” He wasn’t surprised Liz hadn’t heard of it. American public education didn’t really bother with world geography, at least beyond the “big name” countries.

“It is...though now it’s called Tyva. It’s on the northern border of Mongolia.”  Jacob’s seven years with Reddington had been much informative than a high school and college education would have been, at least were global knowledge was considered.

“And you’ve been there? To Tyva?”

“Yes.” They’d spent two weeks hiking, rafting, and trekking through the Sayan mountains. Jacob had appreciated the aesthetics of the landscape, but he was thrilled when they had finally returned to civilization. He could only take so much tranquillity, not to mention time away from hot showers.  

“Where else have you been?”

Jacob shrugged. “A lot of places. Greece, France, South Africa, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Thailand, England, Argentina, Poland, Columbia-”

“You bullshitting me right now?” He could understand why it would sound far-fetched. Elizabeth was seventeen and she hadn’t yet left her home state, let alone the US. Jacob was only four years older than she was and had already visited six of the seven continents.

“I was raised by an international businessman. We travelled a lot.” Of course most of the places he’d visited hadn’t been for vacations. There’d been quite a few times they’d been crossing borders to evade police authorities and then departing immediately for a destination across the globe.

“You’re telling me, you’ve been around the world and yet you choose to set up shop, here, in Nebraska?” Jacob paused a moment, wanting to be careful with his answer. Elizabeth believed he was a local private eye hired by her father. Reddington had made it clear that no one know should know anything about his investment in the girl, including the girl herself.

“You don’t think much of your home state do you?” Liz snorted, apparently accepting his deflection for the moment.

“We both know Ohama isn’t exactly Paris.” Jacob smiled. Why was it girls were always so obsessed with Paris, like it was some romantic Mecca. The reality wasn’t quite what they imagined.

“Which frankly is a good thing. Paris smells like pee.” The horrific odor was the number one thing that tourist brochures did not advertized about the ‘City of Lights’.

“What?”

“If you’re a man it’s totally legal to urinate on the street, so the city smells like pee.” Jacob was pretty sure people peed in the streets in every city in the world, but at least in most of them it was frowned on, if not illegal.

“But it’s not legal for women?”

“I know. Sexism, am I right?” Liz laughed, then her express sobered.

“I still rather be there than here. Nebraska feels so small sometimes I can barely breath.” Despite the miles of nothing currently surrounding them, he understood what she meant. Nebraska was in many respects a nice place to live. It was scenic. It was safe. For many people it would be idyllic. Unfortunately for her, Liz clearly wasn’t ‘many people’. It was too static, too dull for someone like her. She needed a challenge, an adventure.

“Do you mind if I give you some advice, as someone who has travelled pretty much anywhere you can imagine?” Liz made a face as though she’d swallowed something sour.

“Let me guess: ‘There’s no place like home?’” Jacob smirked at the Wizard of Oz reference. Having never had a home, he was in no position to assess the veracity of that statement.

“No. Traveling is great, but where you go doesn’t matter nearly so much as who you go with.” Jacob thought of Reddington, Dembe, and Mr. Kaplan. Any memory of wonder, discovery, or joy that he’d possessed had been with one or all them beside him.

“You really love them, don’t you?” Jacob glanced over at Liz sharply, “Your brother and foster Dad.” Love? Liz threw out that word like it was so simple. It wasn’t, at least not for him.

“I’d have nothing without them. I’d be nothing without them.” If Jacob had never met Reddington he would have probably spent his life on the streets, until the police eventually caught him. Then it would have been off to Juvie for him. He wouldn’t have met Dembe. He would have grown up alone, with no one caring if he lived or died.

“I get that. Sam is...my whole world.” Jacob felt a wave of mutual understanding pass between them. As different as their childhoods had been, they both knew what it was to be saved.

“You’re lucky. We both are.”

“You never finished the story about your brother. What happened after he threw you into the dresser and cracked your skull?”  Jacob was surprised she remembered what he’d said to her in the waiting room, let alone was interested in hearing more. Even more astonishing was that he wanted to tell her. He let his mind drift back to the day that had changed the course of his life.

The address on Dembe’s card didn’t belong to a doctor’s office or a clinic. Instead he found himself sitting in basement of a Brooklyn brownstone. There was medical equipment, and what appeared to be a patient table, but somehow Jacob doubted that this practice was listed in the phone book. That probably wasn’t a bad thing. Reddington clearly had money, and he wouldn’t have instructed Dembe to use this physician if the man didn’t know what he was doing. A competent doctor willing to overlook legal restrictions was a good acquaintance to have.

“You’ve been to this guy before?” Dembe nodded once. Jacob waited a moment before determining his babysittee wasn’t planning to elaborate.

“Why?”

“I was unwell.” Before Jacob had a chance to deliver a sarcastic retort, the door opened and a large bearded man strode in. Dembe stood immediately and extended his hand in greeting.

“Dr. Koslov.” The bearded giant laughed, crossed the room in two bounds, and seized the offered limb.

“Dembe, my fine lad. It is good to see you looking so robust. Mr. Reddington was right when he claimed you had a strength many growth men would envy. Your recovery is nothing short of miraculous. I am confused to see you here alone, without him. He is well I trust?” The man’s English was perfect, but his ascent was definitely foreign. Definitely eastern European.

“Yes, he is well, but Jacob is not.” The doctor turned his attention toward Jacob, who pulled off his cap.

“Come here, boy.” Jacob complied and the man began removing the bandages Dembe had wound around his head. Jacob winced as Koslov inspected his head wound.

“You are fortunate. I think we can get away with two staples. I assume this will go on Mr. Reddington’s account?” Dembe opened his mouth to speak, but Jacob cut him off.

“Actually no, I’d like to cover this myself...assuming we keep this visit between us.” Dembe’s face darkened with disapproval.

“You should not ask Dr. Koslov to lie to Raymond.” Jacob shoot a return glare toward Dembe.

“I’m not asking him to lie, just to not to volunteer the information. That’s covered in patient confidentiality, isn’t it?” Jacob twisted his head to check the doctor’s expression.

“For ordinary doctors, yes, however I am not an ordinary doctor, nor is Mr. Reddington an ordinary patient.” Jacob’s stomach sunk. Of course this guy was in Reddington’s pocket. He should never had come here.

“So you won’t do it?” The doctor studied Jacob’s face for a moment before sighing.

“Given that the injury isn’t too serious and that you are not Mr. Reddington’s ward, I’m willing to hold my tongue on two conditions: 1) You can pay me the $500 fee and 2) You can convince Dembe to likewise maintain his silence. I’ll give you a few minutes alone to discuss it.”

Jacob waited until Koslov had left the room before turning to Dembe. Everybody had a price, Jacob just needed to find his. “How much is going to take to keep you quiet? $100? $200?” Dembe’s glower became even more pronounced.

“My honor is not for sale. I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions.” The ward of the shady Mr. Reddington was a damn choir boy. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Easy for you say. What’s the worst Reddington’s going to do to you? Ground you? That will a real hardship for the guy who didn’t even want to leave the hotel room. Versus me, who will be out of the best paying job I’ve ever had. The job that was going to keep me fed for months. Have you ever been starving, Dembe? Not hungry… but starving?” Self-righteous was easy for people who had nothing at stake.

“Yes.” Jacob blinked. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. It was hard to imagine the huge boy having ever missed a meal. Then again the doctor had mentioned Dembe’s ‘miraculous’ recovery. Maybe the kid’s life had been harder than Jacob had assumed.

“Then do you get why I might not be real eager to feel that again?”

Dembe was silent a moment before nodding. That was a promising start. What else could Jacob say to convince the guy not to rat him out? Would an apology work? Dembe had cracked his skull, but Jacob had deliberately provoked him. They both shared the blame for what happened.  

“Look...I was a dick. I know that. And I get that you don’t want me around. That’s fine, that’s nothing new for me. If you want me to not say another word to you for that rest of the week, I’ll do it, but I need this job. Please.” Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he’d used that final word with anyone. He only hoped it would pay off here.

Dembe was quiet for nearly thirty seconds before reaching a decision. “I won’t lie to Raymond...but I won’t expose any falsehood you tell. You can even tell him we left the hotel, if you’d like. Get your $200 bonus.”

“You know about that?” Had Raymond told Dembe before Jacob’s had arrived about the details of their deal?

“I was listening at the door.” Yet again Jacob’s massive charge surprised him.

“Kind of sneaky for someone as honest as you.” The kid clearly had layers, Jacob would give him that.

“Raymond is honorable is his own way, but I have found him less than forthright, on occasion.” For a non-native English speaker. Dembe sure knew some fancy words.

“Forthright? Seriously? Do you read the dictionary for fun, or something?” For a moment the older boy looked almost embarrassed.

“I enjoy books. Raymond reads to me, when he has time.” Jacob pushed down the unexpected feeling of jealousy. It was stupid to envy Dembe his relationship with Reddington. He wasn’t a little kid anymore. He certainly didn’t need anyone to read him bedtime stories.

“There’s a library near the hotel. I can bring you some books tomorrow, if you want.” Jacob had ‘borrowed’ one or two in the past and had yet to be caught. He could probably sneak out a few more if Dembe was interested.

“I would appreciate that. Thank you.” The older boy smiled at him, and Jacob unexpectedly found himself smiling back. Maybe the week wouldn’t be a nightmare after all.

“So then what happened?” Liz’s voiced pulled Jacob back into the present.

“The doctor fixed me up, good as new.”

“And your brother kept your secret?” Jacob nodded. When Reddington had returned that night, Jacob had told him that they’d hung out in the room all day. Dembe had seemed surprised, given that he’d agree not to contradict any story Jacob came up with. He’d assumed Jacob would want to take advantage of the opportunity to get the extra $200.

Jacob had considered it, but in the end he’d decided not to. He told himself it was for practical reasons, that such a lie would be more easily exposed, but in reality it hadn’t felt right, particular after Dembe had reimbursed Jacob for the money he’d spent at the doctor.

“Yeah. First time anyone ever did anything like that for me.” Dembe had shown him mercy that Jacob had done nothing to deserve.

“He sounds like a good brother.”

“The best.” Jacob felt an unwelcome pang of loneliness. It had been over a month since he’d spoken to Dembe. He hoped his brother was keeping himself safe. Jacob didn’t know what he’d do without him.  

“You’re lucky. I always wanted a sibling. A part of me was hoping that maybe I already had one.” It took a moment for Jacob to realise Liz was talking about the file. It was funny that she wanted to discuss it now, when less than thirty minutes go she’d nearly bitten his head off for asking.

“You were an only child?” Liz nodded.

“As far as the State of Nebraska knows I am. Although apparently my biological father was a con man who ditched me to go the lam, so who knows.” Jacob could hear the undercurrent of anger beneath the flippant tone.

“And your mother?”

“Died in a fire, that she may have started herself. The report was ‘inconclusive.’” No wonder Liz hadn’t felt like sharing what she’d found in the file. She was probably expecting him to respond with an ‘I told you so.’

“Could have been worse. She could have been a negligent crackhead like my birth mother.” Liz turned sharply to look at him. Jacob shrugged, feigning a nonchalance that after all these years he wished he could actually feel. “Family isn’t blood, and blood isn’t family. I think we both made out alright.”

“Yeah, I think we did too.” They fell into a companionable silence, very different from the one they begun the trip with. Jacob found that he no longer dreading the length of the ride, but rather it’s conclusion. He didn’t want to drive away from Liz, knowing he’d never see her again. Stupid and sentimental of him, but it was what it was. Jacob looked over at Liz and found her looking out the window, smiling at the seemingly endless fields stretching to the horizon. She was happy. They were both going home. It was enough.

[takadasaiko]

Love Me Twice Chapter Fifteen Sneak Peek

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FFN II AO3

Updates every Friday.

Scene Summary: Liz and Agnes have very different taste in breakfast foods.

Fic Summary: After saving Tom’s life, Red has a memory specialist attempt to alter the memory of what he found in the DNA test linked to the bones. Something goes wrong in the process that costs Tom 10 years worth of memories. With no recollection of Liz, Agnes, or anything that they’ve all been through, Tom - Jacob Phelps - escapes back to St Regis to recover and resume the career he doesn’t realize that he left.

Two and a half years later he is hired by a mystery woman to watch and protect Special Agent Elizabeth Keen from the threats that surround her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize there’s a connection there, and Tom finds himself starting down the path to try to recover his missing memories and rediscover who he had become before he lost them.

[takadasaiko]

Love Me Twice Chapter Seven Sneak Peek

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FFN II AO3

Updates every Friday.

Chapter Summary: Liz finds more questions than answers when she realizes that Tom doesn’t remember her.

Fic Summary: After saving Tom’s life, Red has a memory specialist attempt to alter the memory of what he found in the DNA test linked to the bones. Something goes wrong in the process that costs Tom 10 years worth of memories. With no recollection of Liz, Agnes, or anything that they’ve all been through, Tom - Jacob Phelps - escapes back to St Regis to recover and resume the career he doesn’t realize that he left.

Two and a half years later he is hired by a mystery woman to watch and protect Special Agent Elizabeth Keen from the threats that surround her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize there’s a connection there, and Tom finds himself starting down the path to try to recover his missing memories and rediscover who he had become before he lost them.

[blacklister214]

I just added a chapter to a Keen2 Fanfiction I haven’t worked on in two years! Huzzah!

[takadasaiko]

Love Me Twice Chapter Thirteen Sneak Peek

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FFN II AO3

Updates every Friday.

Scene Summary: Tom and Liz reconnect. 

Fic Summary: After saving Tom’s life, Red has a memory specialist attempt to alter the memory of what he found in the DNA test linked to the bones. Something goes wrong in the process that costs Tom 10 years worth of memories. With no recollection of Liz, Agnes, or anything that they’ve all been through, Tom - Jacob Phelps - escapes back to St Regis to recover and resume the career he doesn’t realize that he left.

Two and a half years later he is hired by a mystery woman to watch and protect Special Agent Elizabeth Keen from the threats that surround her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize there’s a connection there, and Tom finds himself starting down the path to try to recover his missing memories and rediscover who he had become before he lost them.

[takadasaiko]

Love Me Twice Chapter One Sneak Peek

Tom wakes up in Red’s private facility a week after Garvey’s attack.

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Story Summary: After saving Tom’s life, Red has a memory specialist attempt to alter the memory of what he found in the DNA test linked to the bones. Something goes wrong in the process that costs Tom 10 years worth of memories. With no recollection of Liz, Agnes, or anything that they’ve all been through, Tom - Jacob Phelps - escapes back to St Regis to recover and resume the career he doesn’t realize that he left.

Two and a half years later he is hired by a mystery woman to watch and protect Special Agent Elizabeth Keen from the threats that surround her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize there’s a connection there, and Tom finds himself starting down the path to try to recover his missing memories and rediscover who he had become before he lost them.

 I started this fic a little over a year ago and shelved it for other projects, but I always hoped I’d come back to it and here we are. I’m about 18.5K into the writing process, so I’m edging towards being comfortable that I can start posting chapters soon. The goal is to post a chapter a week on Friday with a sneak peek sometime during the week. I started doing sneak peek gif sets way back with Everything Back to You and continued them with Breathe Again Beneath the Flames, so it feels right that I continue on with this one if I can. Here’s hoping I have the time to keep those going. 

[takadasaiko]

Keen2, breaking my heart on Main Street tonight:

“I don’t know what to tell you other than… you don’t need her. Or him. I don’t have to remember knowing you to see how strong you are. You don’t need anyone.”

“You,” she managed, looking up at him through blurred vision and she saw him smile. “I need you.”

“No.  I’ve been gone, what? I guess more than two years now, huh? And you’re still here. Still standing. You don’t need me.”

She squeezed his hand and this time the laugh felt more real. “Fine. I don’t need you, but I want you.”

[takadasaiko]

I’m seriously considering doing AU gif sets for my new Blacklist fic I’m putting together. They’re very time-consuming and take a lot of effort, but I had such a blast doing them for Everything Back to You and Breathe Again Beneath the Flames....