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mrsjellymunson · 18 days ago

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Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning.

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards.

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black.

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night.

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies,

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so…

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting.

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking,

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.”

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with,

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly.

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication.

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly.

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,”

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle,

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side.

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed…

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it.

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull.

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is.

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind.

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here.

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight…

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

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pomegratea · 1 month ago

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in a decent reality, raymond reddington would've become a tumblr sexymen

#you cowards !#or robert california. . . .#james spader #the blacklist #raymond reddington

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itscherrylipsforme · 14 days ago

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Every second matters: Donald Ressler x FBI!fem!reader

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Your teammate’s and "crush-you-are-not-willing-to-admit"s disappearance is definitely one of those times, so you reluctantly have to ask the FBI’s most wanted criminal for help. Surprisingly, Raymond Reddington is also an excellent matchmaker

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and small injuries

Requested: yes

Words: 1300

Author rambles: Sorry because this took me ages (how many times have already repeated that?) Thanks to the amazing @zizzlekwum for her request and patience. Had to change the name while editing because this sounded better. Also this was edited late at night with mint tea as fuel and queued on the bus on my way to campus this morning, so blame any mistakes on those...

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

In the time you have been in the unit you have learnt two basic facts.

Fact number 1: There is absolutely no phone number, location or person Aram Mojtabai cannot find.

Fact number 2: You and the team never, I repeat, never go against Reddington’s plan. And that's for your own sake.

Yet, in the last hours everything you knew had come down in pieces. Ruins of the rules and statements you once held to, now they are left broken much as yourself. You look at Aram, clinging at the last straw of hope that remained.

“These guys are completely analogical! No digital footprint. And the last camera which got a glimpse of them only helps to reduce the search to a ten miles radius which is all covered by suburban houses. It just doesn’t make sense, the house’s cameras should have recorded them.”

His hands tangle in his short locks trying to find out a clue, something he is looking pass. Hostages just don’t go missing. Agents just don’t vanish in the air. Ressler can’t have just disappeared.

“What about Reddington?” You finally gather the courage to ask it, voice determined, you not so much inside.

“Still unwilling to talk with us.” Dembe, the gentle giant you have got used to call coworker and even friend in the last months, sights while crossing his arms. You have already seen the look in his eyes, the weight of the decisions you should both had taken as it that could ever change the current situation.

Things were easier when Liz was around, the idea hangs out in the air as if you could nearly capture it. Nobody says it, but all of you know is true. Liz was the only who could talk some sense into him, if someone could ever talk sense into Raymond Reddington. A few years ago, you could trust in Dembe to try it at least too. But since he has become Agent Zuma, the relationship has run cold. A worry for another day, you have more important matters in your hands now.

“Do we know where is him?”

Another question coming from your lips without even realizing, a silent nod the only answer you needed. Before turning to face your unit chief, Harold Copper.

“L/n, you have my permission to go.”

A fancy cocktail bar at six pm on a Monday afternoon. Lately Raymond wasn’t being too careful while choosing his meeting point, but with all you had in mind that was the last of your worries This shouldn’t have happened, nothing of this shouldn’t have happened. If things had been different, now you blamed yourself. Should have told him to stay in the car as Reddington had said, it was a recognition mission after all. But no, Donald Ressler always had to play the hero, and you didn’t have the guts to stop him.

“Y/n, my dear, sit down.” Reddignton retires a chair for you, a far too kind gesture considering how he had acted just an hour ago when Donald went missing in the mission. “Would you join me for a drink?” He pours another glass of a wine, which seems to cost at least a ten percent of your monthly salary, before you could even reply.

“Ressler has disappeared. He is probably being tortured at the moment, maybe even…” That’s another thing you learn in the field. Never say the forbidden word. If you do, you lose any kind of faith in seeing them again. If you lose faith, you lose everything. Even the possibility of them. "And you are thinking about wine?”

“Well, news like that is better taken while tipsy, isn’t it?”

Classical Reddington. Joking in the most inappropriate moments. Well, you also have an habit of storming out when angered. He will have to deal with that.

“You know how much he has lost because of you, right? Liz, his old girlfriend..." That gives you a bitter taste while rolling off your tongue at the same time you stand up. "You know what he has gone through. Don’t you care at least a bit? Once he dedicated his life to see you behind bars you, now he works by your side."

Your words are rushed, agitated. You can't even stop to catch a breath. Not that you want you, not until you are sure Ressler can do the same.

"You should respect that at least, I thought Raymond Reddington cared about his team.”

You see a strange glimmer in his eyes. Not mockery this time, but there was a small smirk in the curve of his thin lips. Laugh? Perhaps a hint of pride?

“First of all, you are well aware I do." He takes a long sip until the glass in empty. " Second, Donald is not in risk. Maybe bruised, but not deeply hurt. Those guys know better than to mess up with my team, as you have put into words.”

“Then why don’t you do something?”

Now there is a full grin on his face as he stands up takes his jacket from the hanger, not without leaving a generous tip on the table.

“I was waiting for you to ask me. And you did, half an hour earlier than I had bet by the way. This case may be even worse than I thought.”

“Cut out the riddles, Reddington.”

“You know he’s in love with you, right?”

How could he say it so blatantly, sweeping his fedora with such a calm manner while you had lost all your words? Mouth hanging and unable to stammer something coherent.

“He what?”

“And it seems pretty mutual to me” With that he puts the hat on and opens the door for both of you. Still trying to process everything you can't help following him in silence.

The rest of the rescue passes bluring infront of your eyes. Reddington telling you the exact location. Entering the housing development which had been carefully built as a cover for the criminal network (only a few houses were actually being used by its members). Dembe and Siya watching your back as the suspects were aiming at you. Clearing the area. Immobilizing the suspects. And finally arriving to Ressler's side.

You try to be gentle as you untie him from ropes which are holding him to a chair. However, your attempts are futile, hands to clumsy and brain dulled by all the emotions coming for you at once. You can't even recall when a few timid tears have started rolling down your cheeks, but you don't mind either. Donald is an equal mess right now, it's the first time you have seen him like these. Vulnerable. Human. And it only adds to the feeling you don't dare to voice. Not yet.

As soon as his free you wrap your arms around him. His nose in your hair as an anchor to remind him you are finally here. A considerable bruise under his eye and his bloody knuckles would usually worry to death (yes, even considering your field). But now you can't bring yourself to care, just wanting to hold him close. An urge to kiss his lips until you are both restless reaches your mind, yet the need for this. Just a hug. Just a simple gesture to assure you he won't be leaving anytime soon is enough for the moment.

"I think you have some things to discuss. I will leave you to it.”

Raymond's words take you by surprise, and between the falling tears you and Donald start laughing at the situation.

"Maybe we should talk about this" You whisper as you try to calm down and reluctantly pull away from him.

Too bad he has no intention of moving, but neitheir of saying what is really going through his mind.

"Maybe. Later. Not now. Just..."

Without further ado he rests his face on the crock of your neck. He had always been a man of action, not too good words. You didn't mind. As long as you could feel his breath on your skin, his warm body relaxing. Working in the unit every second matters. And you will treasure these and enjoy them as long as you can.

#donald ressler x reader #donald ressler x y/n #the blacklist x reader

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digi-dest-stories · 23 days ago

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Miraculous Destiny AU rambling

So I've been figuring out lore and stuff in my head (Still stumped on a Miraculous to give Riot but I'll figure it out). Here's what I got so far:

Some Backstory: The Admins were formerly superheroes who, along with their Digimon partners, used them to help people. However, as they got older, they stopped using the Miraculouses. Instead, they all resigned themselves to guardians, splitting them between the seven of them. All but one received three Miraculouses to look after.

Simon Reddington would be the only one who had not received three, instead holding only one - The Butterfly. He had grown somewhat bitter in age and had become obsessed with the idea of creating a 'perfect' world. But, to do that, he of course needed the Ladybug and Black Cat. And luckily for him, he knew who had them.

At least, he thought he did. Their guardians, Lucia Yi and Jordan Hedgewick, sent the Miraculouses far away and went into hiding, so that he would not find them. So, instead of searching for them himself, he decided to use the Butterfly Miraculous to create "Champions" that would retrieve them in his stead.

Lore:

So Digimon exist in a space that, like Ghost Game and Xros Hunters, allows them to affect the Human World without being seen. They rarely appear in the Human World, preferring to live in their plane of existence, but can be brought out through the use of some Miraculous... like the Butterfly.

When a Digimon is Akumatized, they materialize in the Real World. They then experience something akin to a Dark Digivolution, driving them mad and causing them to go berserk. They don't always get Akumatized though, some humans do too

If a hero bonds with a Digimon, they gain a Miracle Device, which is eventually just a Digivice that is connected to a specific Miraculous. It allows the Digimon to gain an evolutionary stage known as Miracle Digivolution, where they Digivolve using the power/energy of the Miraculous (Sort of like Armor Digivolution if that makes sense, but somewhere between Champion and Ultimate). Instead of a common Digimon name, they gain a title/superhero name of sorts. The Miracle Device also allows them to enter the other plane that most Digimon exist in.

Admins + Miraculous (Bold are the ones that they held):

RedHerring/Simon - Butterfly

Stonehedge/Jordan - Black Cat, Snake, Rabbit

Yihaw/Lucia - Ladybug, Fox, Mouse

King Maroon/Henry King - Monkey, Ox, Turtle

Spin Sylph - Pig, Bee, Dog

Dragon Abby - Dragon, Tiger, Rooster

Devil Soma - Peacock, Goat, Horse

Updated DigiDestined + Miraculous (Superhero Name)

Reiner - Black Cat

Sammi - Ladybug (Lucky/Lady Luck - Temp names)

ER - Turtle

Gary - Fox

Grayson - Dog (Keen Hound - Thank you @gorochuva)

Diogo - Goat

That's all I have for now. Gotta figure out a miraculous for Riot, some of their hero names, and the names of their Digimon's Miracle-Evolved forms

Feel free to leave suggestions if anyone has some

#digi-destiny #digi destiny #digidest au #miraculous destiny au

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katarinas-redemption · 7 months ago

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Liz: And how should I look at this? Red: Like a criminal. May come easier than you think. Shall I show you? The Blacklist.

PART ONE

🕵️‍♂️

This line makes a parental connection between Liz and Red.

Episode 4.22

The second crucial line in the pilot that showrunners confirm was an Imposter clue is the “Everything about me is a lie” line.

Parental connection via the criminal parallel +

Red is not her father but an imposter of her father. =

Red is The Mother.

Wild ass speculation:

The mother died of WEAKNESS AND SHAME as per what Red told Liz in the pilot. Interestingly, that line about weakness and shame was different on the draft pilot script dated 2012 that somehow made it online and fans have decided to dissect it carefully. LOL.

In the original draft, her mother worked two jobs to keep Liz in school and out of juvenile court. Some anti-Redarina fans say this is evidence that Red was originally not supposed to be the mom as the mom would have raised Liz until she was 14. That same draft has Liz's age as 36 later changed to 29/30. Liz: There was a fire. I was fourteen. Mr. Kaplan: You tell people you got it when you were 14. Why is that? Liz:��To hide the truth?

I disagree that any of this disproves Redarina. It is possible that her mother still could have disappeared and re-emerged as the imposter.

Liz's age was changed to 4 because maybe they realized that if Liz was 14, she could've remembered Red or saw something in him like his eyes. Changing her age to four years old IMHO, would've made it less likely for Liz to remember details, like Red's eyes. In the Luther Braxton Conclusion episode, it seemed Liz recognized that Red was at the fire by his EYES. She saw her mother in Red's eyes in the season 8 finale so. Add in the fact that Red had her memories erased.

And anyway, if they had kept it that the mom worked two jobs, etc, etc.. She still went somewhere and was out of the picture> Liz told Cooper she raised herself so both parents were out of the picture. Liz: Like most kids who raised themselves, I can display narcissistic behavior. I can be withdrawn, disconnected.

THINK LIKE A CRIMINAL. The showrunners talk about Liz’s darkness and how she's becoming more like Red.

SEASON 3 - THE AU REVIEW

(When Liz and Red went on the run)

John Eisendrath: In terms of where Liz is heading, I think she’s struggling with this notion that there’s a piece within her that is criminal. Red told her in the very first episode of the show ‘think like a criminal, it may come easier to you than you may expect’ and I think that sort of haunts her, and now, even though she has whispers of a criminal past that we’ve alluded to, now that she’s being confronted with actually being a criminal, she’s had to rely on these instincts that she wants to ignore and pretend like they’re not there – and now she needs them.” So, not only is Liz forced to embrace a darker side that might be within her, we’re also getting to go out and travel with Red and to see him take the reigns and see how he operates and where he goes and stays in ways that we haven’t really seen before. Liz is going to take the audience by the hand and go into Red’s world a little bit more and learn about how he moves and operates which is going to be a lot of fun.

SEASON 5 TV GUIDE - SEASON 5

Daddy issues. If you thought the discovery that Red is her father would put an end to Liz's identity crisis once and for all, think again. "Her father is essentially the devil," Bokenkamp says. "She's confronting some frightening questions about who she is and what's in her DNA and that fight between good and evil. ... Liz is going to be combating that instinct to perhaps break the rules and fighting a darker side of herself that she knows is probably right under the surface." But in some twisted way, embracing her true nature may make Liz even better at her job. "Is she like Reddington?" Bokenkamp wonders. "He told her early, 'Think like a criminal. It may come easier than you think.'"

SEASON 5 ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

How is Liz dealing with the truth that Red is her father?

Jon Bokenkamp: It’s going to be interesting to watch it play out, because I think she’s secretly terrified, or maybe not so secretly terrified, that the devil is her father and that she may have some of those instincts. He told her in the pilot, “Think like a criminal. It may come easier to you than you think,” and we’ve seen aspects of that. She murdered the Attorney General and has been on the run in the past. And so, I think she’s going to plant her flag early on that she’s a cop first and that is probably going to be a season-long struggle for her.

Elizabeth Keen No. 1 on The Blacklist.

SEASON 8 ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

Megan Boone: I was definitely hoping it would be Liz at No. 1, but I didn't want to presume," Boone says. "I have to say… it's an honor.

SEASON 8 ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

John Eisendrath: From the second Reddington walked into her life, a dark path was always a possibility for Liz. "One of the dramatic questions from the beginning is how this master criminal's desire to connect with this innocent FBI agent would change her life," Eisendrath explains. To find Blacklisters, Reddington has encouraged Liz to understand the mindset and think like a criminal. "She's learned at the feet of a master," he adds. The FBI agent's key moments, including learning she has the Warrior gene in her DNA and covering up a murder she committed, coupled with what Reddington has been teaching her, have been leading her to this place. Now, she's been pulled far enough into the dark side to be at the top of Red's list.

Red told Cooper that what Liz did by betraying them in this episode and kidnapping Dom was her “destiny.” What does that mean?

SEASON 8 THE WRAP

Bokenkamp:

I think what Red was talking about goes to the core of who Liz is. Is she fundamentally good? Is she fundamentally bad? Has she reached a tipping point that she can’t return from, or was this meant to be because it’s in her DNA? We’ve seen Liz dip her toes in the dark waters over the years — she’s certainly not that innocent, young FBI agent that we met in the pilot — and this season is going to explore her darker side. I think the real question lies in seeing how she navigates these dark waters and, if she does survive this, how she looks when she comes out the other side.

Eisendrath:

This has been a question since the pilot. First when she thought Red was her father; later when she realized Katarina Rostova was her mother — how much of a parent’s behavior is a child destined to repeat? In Liz’s case, how much bad behavior?

The murder of Attorney General Tom Connolly (Reed Birney) was more about Liz than it was about her executing him. "It reflected to the audience about how far Liz is willing to go," Bokenkamp says. "That murder is very telling of who she was, and perhaps even who she was in the process of becoming." It got at the core of a debate the writers had for years, which was whether she's destined to embrace her darkness or it was free will that she chose to do these things. Liz's desperate action was not just a considerable character turn, but it sent her on the road with Reddington. Spending time with him meant seeing that she was more like him than she wanted to admit. - Entertainment Weekly

The Warrior Gene - Dr.Linus Creel Episode 2.04

The episode did not confirm that Liz had the warrior gene though it was implied. In later interviews, the showrunners confirm that Liz DID possess it.

Samar: I received everything Creel had on file at the hospital patient records, test results Including yours. We logged everything else into evidence, but I thought perhaps you would want that. It’s probably meaningless, right? Do you think Reddington could have known, when he gave you this case, that you’d find out?

Part two

#the blacklist #elizabeth keen #redarina #raymond reddington #nbc the blacklist #raymond reddington gifs #elizabeth keen gifs #liz keen gifs #megan boone #james spader

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writingbyshiloh · 1 year ago

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Part 3. Elizabeth

5+1 masterlist

CW: Drinking, established relationship, ummm fluff? Implied smut, reader wears jewelry. No beta

AN: Yes hes looking at Liz in the gif but the chapter is also about her. The chapter hinges on the reader wearing earrings, I’M SORRY. IDK what season this is among, Liz and Tom are together but so are Aram and Samar so take that as you will. I also watched so much Euphoria while editing

Everything was going well. The team knew that you were seeing someone and it's almost become a running gag about the biker story. Ressler told Liz who ended up telling Aram. You told Samar yourself, omitting a few key details, knowing she would find it funny.

They just didn't know you were seeing one of the most wanted men in the world. You hesitated to say ‘dating’ because most romantic relationships don’t have the power to end your career and possibly get you arrested. It's not like you could update your Facebook profile with the information.

Cooper even noticed that you were picking up less overtime and leaving closer to the typical end of the work day. You didn't fully stop your overworking habits, partly because it was something you always had done but also subconsciously to show Reddington that you're not going to throw your job away for him. That you were an agent first (even if you are not the poster child for fidelity or integrity).

Alternatively, Reddington was also dropping hints - not names - that he was seeing someone. The first time you felt a spark of jealousy. Obviously, he was drawing on someone from his past and putting them in the current timeline, but it still stung. You still agreed with his partner in his retelling, before realizing that he was talking about you, and you were agreeing with your own opinions.

With you not wanting to slow your overtime, and him “keeping up criminal appearances” you hardly saw him outside of FBI business. Not for lack of trying. You tried to He frequently invited you to wherever in the world he was, and you declined due to time reasons. It never stopped him from bringing you back a postcard. Always delivered in person, in case someone in the US Postal Service noticed the pattern.

Tonight was different. The office air felt stiff and the pile of forms felt endless. It wasn’t even closely connected with the blacklist case and was boring. Plus the description of his safe house for the next few days seemed like a dream. Large windows overlooking waterways and lush green plants were how he described it to Liz, directly outside your shared office.

----

You triple-checked you had the address right before knocking. Reddington told you to come straight from work, that you could shower at his safe house. With time being so rare between you both, you hastily agreed, taking your spare change of clothes you kept in your office.

The door swung inward, Reddington's arm sweeping you inside. Once the door was fully shut and locked, his hand moved to the small of your back guiding you into the apartment.

“Agent! You made it!” You could tell that he had a glass or two of wine from the strong enunciation. You made a face at the name, something he loved to call you.

“Don’t call me that, I’m off the clock.” You heave a sigh allowing him to show you to the kitchen. “I brought you a gift.” You push the bottle of wine out awkwardly for him to take it.

You hear him quietly read the name, pronunciation much better than anything you could have attempted.

“You didn’t need to. This is more expensive than what you drink”

“Well, there was a betting pool at the office. And I won.”

Reddington raises an eyebrow for you to continue.

“The betting was about you. And if you were seeing someone. I may have used insider knowledge to win.” You try to be sly but you can't help but smile.

Moving closer to get the bottle, he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I didn’t start the pool.” you continue, not wanting him to think you scammed your coworkers.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.”

Ever the gentleman, he pulls out a stool from the kitchen island for you, before sliding a full wine glass towards you.

It was flattering in a way. Out of all the constant security threats, deals, and thinking, he had a drink for you, signalling that he was eagerly waiting for your appearance.

You rest the cool glass against your cheek, while he manoeuvres in front of the island to the stove, some sauce cooking slowly simmers. You take the time to study his outfit, the cool browns of the suit jacket that's resting on the back of the bar stool, the umber colour vest and the crisp white dress shirt. The piece du resistance was the apron he tied in the back.

----

When spending the night with Reddington, you either had him when you went to sleep or when you woke up. Given his constant travelling and busy schedule it made sense that he hardly had a normal sleep schedule. You got him last night, leaving you to wake up to your alarm in a new bed, confused at the unfamiliar setting.

“You look nice.”

The post office didn't seem to have a dress code. Red wore a three-piece suit most days, Ressler was in a dressed-down version of that. Samar was the most casual, either a tank top or tee-short tucked into jeans. You tried to hit the middle of the Samar and Donald dress spectrum.

“Thank you. I feel like I’m missing something though.” You shift your weight side to side to see if he notices anything.

He also looks at you, trying to figure out what is off, but not being able to come up with anything.

You pass Dembe in the door. as you left Reddingtons, making a joke about how Dembe was now covering for the day shift.

---

The feeling that you were missing something or forgot something dragged during your commute. You thought it was your phone or maybe your keys but you had both with you in the car.

As if to prove a point, your phone’s ringtone jolted you out of your thoughts.

You hit answer, saying your last name when the connection went through before the other person had a chance to speak.

“Hey, it's Keen. Are you at the office?”

“I’m like, ten minutes out.”

“Can you pick me up? My car battery died, and Tom is out with Agness.”

You switch lanes before turning into a parking lot to put Liz's address in your GPS.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll be there in 15 maybe?”

“Where are you? I’m not that far from your place.”

Shit.

“Do you not switch up your routine? In case someone is following you?” It sounded like bullshit but you could always play up the paranoid angle later. “Before I joined the task force, my old team would -”

“I’m sorry I asked. I’ll see you in 15,” Liz said cutting you off.

----

While waiting for Liz you realized what you were missing. Jewelry. You took it off to shower and ended up - in his words - “distracting” Reddington before you got a chance to dry off and put it back on. Rooting around in your wallet while waiting you found a spare pair of earrings that were work appropriate.

You spy Liz talking on the phone, coming down the steps to her apartment building and you preemptively unlock the passenger door.

“Hey, do you mind making another stop?” Liz said in lieu of a greeting.

“Sure, where?”

“Reddington called. He said for us to meet at his safe house.”

Of course.

“I can direct you, Dembe told me where it was” she continued.

----

You glance at the apartment door numbers for the second time in 24 hours. Only this time, Dembe will be the one letting you in (probably less enthusiastically than Red did, but you don't hold that against him).

“Good morning, Lizzy” Red greets her as you all make your way to the main space, Liz leading the group, you behind her and Dembe taking up the rear.

“Oh, you brought company! Good morning, Agent.” Clearly, Liz didn’t tell him about your morning car ride.

“Liz is having car trouble. I picked her up,” you explain, secretly enjoying the fact that you were able to catch him off guard.

Quickly, Reddington and Liz are diving into the newest name on the blacklist. You’re half listening, eyes scanning the room to see if your jewelry is in sight.

You spy your earrings and ring on a bookshelf. You didn't leave them there, but knowing Red he probably moved them there to remember to give you. Debating if you could sneak them into your pocket, you catch Dembes eye.

He gives his head a small shake, letting you know it's dumb to take them.

By now, Liz and Reddington are starting to argue as she moves around the room. Your strategy for these arguments is to avoid them as long as you can. If it's something that affects you doing your job you voice your opinion, but there is so much messy history between them you try to stay out of it.

As she moves closer, you start to worry. You don’t wear your ring at work so that is safe from identification. The earrings are simple, probably she won't connect them to you. However, she is a profiler. And a good one at that. It is possible she’ll pick up on some obscure motion of gesture and put everything together.

You watch her eyes skim the bookshelf probably looking for something to bring up in the argument.

Shitshitshit.

She sees it.

“Had a guest over?”

“I’m a gentleman, I don't kiss and tell.” Red deflects. Bullshit, you think while trying to remain calm.

“Don’t you have a pair like these?” Liz directly asks you. You can see her eyes shift to see if you're wearing earrings.

You lean in, pretending to examine them.

“Yeah, me and practically every other working professional.”

Her eyes flicked to your earrings, thankfully buying your excuse. You probably needed to hide them forever now.

Not going to let you suffer on your own, Reddington chimed in with another “fun” fact about the blacklister, drawing everyone's attention to a book on the self, away from your earrings.

It was close. It was too close for comfort. You were sloppy. But you also couldn't dwell. Liz would pick up on the change in behaviour. All you could do was focus on your job and hope Liz brushes it off.

---

Red taglist (dm to be added/removed): @soraya-daydreams, @horrorqueen22, @wild-rose-35, @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek, @zombieskullxz, @rhepworth, @fanficismydrug, @btsjiminsthings, @emilynissangtr, @navs-bhat,

#if I miss anyone on the tag list I'm sorry I tired #raymond reddington fan fic #raymond reddington x you #raymond reddington x reader #the blacklist x reader #5 + 1 fic

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