#I ship mulder and krycek so hard

[megapteraknits]

I'm re-watching the X-Files series, so naturally I need to make more mittens.

[meriwetherwrites]

new fic: the story of us always starts the same (the stray cat variations series)

This is a "prequel" in this ridiculous "series" inspired by the polycule stray cat post. Mulder/Scully/Krycek, extremely E-rated.

She and Mulder walk down a long, empty hallway, to an interrogation room with no one but Krycek inside. He’s not handcuffed this time, but he stays warily on his side of the table while she and Mulder take their seats. “We know,” she tells him. Krycek shakes his head. This time, he looks more familiar, like he did when he came to tell them about the ship in Oregon, not so fresh-faced and wide-eyed anymore. “I was never an innocent in all of it,” he tells her, like he doesn’t want her to forgive him too easily. “I was getting paid. I was going to be rewarded. All I ever did was switch sides a few times.” His eyes dart to Mulder for a second, then back to Scully, and he licks his lips a little and swallows hard. “Switching sides, huh.” Mulder gives Scully a performative leer.

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Rewrite]

I originally wrote this fic in September and finished it late October 2019. It was one of the first fics I'd ever written for this fandom and it has remained the only multi-chapter fic I ever finished. For years I've been wanting to rewrite this fic, to fix the typos, change the clunky sentences, and include characters I'd introduced but didn't do anything more with. Mostly I want to re-share this fic. It sits at the bottom of my fic list on ao3 and I don't want this fic to be forgotten because it still means a lot to me 5 years on so over the next couple of days I'm gonna go through each chapter and rewrite certain parts. You can read the original on ao3 or you can just read this version. Anyway, this is getting long so Imma shut up now.

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who's had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter One.

A cloud of heavy smoke rises from the four vapers, covering the clear sky above and littering it with stuffy grey puffs. People scramble up and down the dock, trying to keep family members together as they rush to get through the gates. Others stand there gawking at the ship. For those not boarding it’s simply a day out; The greatest ship ever built, the paper’s  call it and those who live nearby wasn’t about to miss out on such a historic day as this.

Mulder stares at it, surprised at just how wonderstruck he is with it. He never put much stock in the rumours when it was being built, believing that she was just going to turn out as all those before her had. That the rumours were just that- rumours.

But he was wrong. Never in his life had he seen a ship as large as the one that towers over him.

He turns to Phoebe, reaching out for her hand as she climbs out of the cab.

“What do you think?” Mulder asks as he helps his fiancé down. “Do you think she’s impressive?”

To no one’s surprise, Phoebe only scoffs at the ship, its presence not changing her mood in the slightest.

“It’s not as grand as the Mauretania.”

Bill Mulder chuckles behind them, handing their luggage to his man-servant, Krycek as the boy passes them onto a baggage handler.

“It’s much bigger than the Mauretania,” he says, ready to quote every fact he had memorised from the London Herald about the ship. “And much more luxurious,” he adds.

Phoebe only huffs, clearly becoming uninterested in their current conversation.

“Careful Fox,” his father warns him. “Hard one to please, that one.” Mulder only manages an uncomfortable laugh already well aware at the difficulties that come attached to Phoebe Green.

With departure time approaching, they begin to make their way towards the ship, weaving their way through the crowds, Phoebe turning her nose up at every person not dressed to the nines, going as far as to dramatically balk and cover her nose as a lower-class foreigner runs across their path.

“Filthy immigrant,” Phoebe scorns at the innocent man. Mulder tries not to let his disgust show at Phoebe’s words; they are excused after all and Mulder rolls his eyes at the clear disrespect his people show towards those less fortunate.

“He’s just trying to get to the ship, Phoebe.”

“Yes, well, maybe he should hurry to a bath instead.”

Mulder ignores her words, instead guiding her through the swarming crowds.

“Honestly Bill,” Mulder’s mother pipes up. “We couldn’t have arrived here earlier rather than scurrying around the docks like rats?”

“I was all packed and ready to go,” Bill says and indicates to the pair in front of him. “It was those two who weren’t.”

Mulder sighs. If anything, it was Phoebe who they had been waiting for.

“We did try to hurry, Mother. Phoebe couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Phoebe scoffs once more. “It’s not my fault that you told me to change.”

“I just thought you would get too warm wearing black all day.”

“I’m in mourning Fox,” Phoebe cries. “The weather doesn’t change that.”

Mulder resists sighing again. Phoebe had been mourning for weeks now. The loss of their baby had brought on this spontaneous trip. Phoebe, having had enough London and “wanting to get away from all the bad memories” all but demanded that they leave for America as soon as possible. A chance for a new start, she told him afterwards. They could get married here and start again. Next thing Mulder knew, he was packing his bag and going back to a country he hadn’t seen since he was a child.

He felt trapped somehow, and it had nothing to do with the swarms of crowds. This was inside him. A cage or a hole he had put himself in. One he didn’t think he was going to get out of any time soon.

She’s been sitting on this bench for what feels like hours now. The stuffy bar overcrowded with sight-seers only now they’ve done the sight-seeing and only drinking is on their mind.

She was told ten minutes. Ten minutes and they would be looking for a ferry to take them back to Ireland. Dana was done with the place. Southampton was the same as everywhere else in England that they’d been- the same people, the same scorning looks they’d get no matter where they go, the same rejections. It’s only a number of times a person can hear ‘no’ before they never want to hear the word again.

Her brother, however, had other ideas. They only came into the bar to ask if there were any ferries available to take them home and somehow Charlie had managed to be roped into a game of poker by a bunch of Norwegians who spoke very little English between them.

The game had currently been going on for a lot longer than the ‘ten minutes’ she was promised.

Dana sighs, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She’d order a drink if Charlie wasn’t currently gambling away their last penny.

“You lonely, love?” Dana turns towards the speaker. His cockney accent thickened by the slurring of his words. “Ye want sum comp’ny?”

He stumbles towards her, catching himself on the rickety table and smiles at his clumsiness. Dana attempts to shuffle further back into the bench, failing.

“I’m fine,” she says turning away and hoping the man would take the hint.

But he presses on.

“Are ye sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.” She gets up before the man can say or do anything else, and heads over to Charlie’s table.

Her brother is in full concentration mode. Lip caught between his teeth, eyes scanning his cards and the card laying down on the table. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Countless of times Dana has watched him play, never learning from the mistakes he’s made in previous games. This gambling addiction he’s seemed to have developed has cost them a lot in the finance department, a cost that Dana is not too happy about.

She taps him on the shoulder.

“Charlie, I want to go.”

“Hold on a second…”

His tongue replacing his lip, Charlie gives one nervous glance around at his fellow players.

“Charlie, we need to go.” She tries not to sound like she’s whining, he’s her younger brother for God’s sake, a child, she shouldn’t have to whine.

Charlie ignores her, a smile breaking out across his face.

“I’m sorry, lads.” He places his cards on the table, his smile turning cocky as he reaches over to take his earnings. Dana spies two pieces of paper laying on top of the money.

A large hand grasps Charlie’s. His grin falls as he stares in fear at the man.

“He cheat!” The man yells. With his hand still firmly wrapped around Charlie’s arm, he yanks him forward across the table, his other hand a fist that falls down and smashes straight into his face.

“Charlie!” Dana yells as his body falls slump against the oak. The man backs off as the bar grows quiet, ignoring the winnings that fall onto the floor.

With all concern for her brother, Dana rushes to his side, her hand falling on his face, wiping away the blood that drips down from his wound. You fucking idiot…she thinks.

Charlie’s eyes open slowly, despite the pain he is grinning from ear to ear.

“I won, Dana,” he tells her gleefully. “We’re going to America.”

Dana frowns, bewildered for the moment at what Charlie could possibly be talking about until her eyes fall on those two pieces of paper that lay on the ground. Realisation sets in and she reaches down to pick them up, turning them over to read.

The words White Star Line stare back at her. She looks from the paper in her hand to the ship outside and back to Charlie.

“You’re…you’re not serious?” she asks in awe.

“Yep. Fucker put his ticket down as payment,” Charlie all but shouts still grinning.

Dana stares back at the ticket. She was really about to go to America, the Titanic being the ship to take her there.

“You’re gonna wanna be quick,” a man beside them tells them. He points to his clock on the wall. “Boat leaves in ten minutes.”

At that, Charlie hauls himself off the table as the two siblings begin pushing what money remains on the table into their only bag, not caring for the coins that had fallen onto the floor.

“Hurry up!” Charlie urges her as Dana ties up the bag. “Come on, come on.” He takes the bag throwing it over his shoulder and grabs his sister’s hand, dragging her out of the bar.

They weave their way through the people, Charlie up front and Dana falling slightly behind. She fists her skirt in her palms, pulling it up so as not to trip over it, keeping her eye on Charlie ahead of her and praying she doesn’t lose him.

They collide with everything; people, a cart selling vegetables, a horse and carriage until finally they make it, out of breath, and clutching at their tickets.

“Tickets?,” the crewman orders, his fingers making a grabby motion. They hand them over and snatches it out of their hands. His nose turns up when he reads the names.

“Leif and Ingrid Brevik?” he asks, sceptically.

Dana looks nervously at Charlie, worried that they had just got excited for their new futures only to be turned away at the doors once more.

“Aye, we’re Americans.” Charlie tells him doing nothing to mask his thick Irish accent.

The crewman gives once last glance at the ticket and them. Sighing and probably done dealing with steerage who’s English is minimal he accepts the tickets.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

Relieved, the pair rush in just as the crewman shuts the door.

They make their way down the crowded corridor. People stand looking at the various signs that point in directions of rooms, bathrooms, and general communal areas. They argue, an overload of different words muddled together to make one distorted language.

Dana isn’t paying attention, however. Her eyes switch from the number written down on the ticket to the numbers written on the doors either side of them. Charlie had gotten distracted, eyeing up every woman that they walked past and Dana had finally ripped the paper out of his hands. If he wasn’t going to find their room, she will.

She finds it eventually. 23, near the end of the corridor. Charlie eyes up Room 24.

“Reckon a lass lives in there?” he asks.

Dana focuses on unlocking the door, a sly grin appearing on her face.

“I hope it’s a fat old man with a foot infection.” She looks up only to see the look of disgust appear across her brother’s face and she laughs, gaining the reaction she was looking for.

The door opens to their room. A single bunkbed, a desk and chair with a lamp set upon it, and a chest of drawers are the only furniture that occupy the room.

Charlie shares her sentiments exactly: it’s perfect.

“Beats the cargo hold on a ferry.” He throws the bag onto the chair and proceeds to climb to the top bunk.

She stops him before he can claim it.

“Piss off, I get top bunk.” She grips the back of his shirt, yanking him off the ladder.

“Careful!” Charlie cries. “I’m already injured.”

“So move out the way before I injured you even more.”

He does as he’s told, not without pulling a face beforehand, and throws himself on the bottom bunk.

Dana lies down, thankful to be in a bed that actually feels like a bed and not a brick.

“Hey, Dana?” Charlie calls after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried?”

Dana thinks for a second, curious as to what Charlie thinks she should be worried about.

“About what?” she asks.

Silence passes and she waits for an answer.

“Nothing,” Charlie says. “It’s nothing. We got nothing to be worried about.”

Despite being profoundly confused, Dana decides not to push it.

Another bout of silence passes and perhaps Charlie’s fallen asleep. At least that’s what she assumes until she hears his voice again.

“Hey, Dana?”

“What?”

“Do you still have that first-aid kit in the bag? My face is throbbing.”

A pack flops onto the floor beside his bed.

“Cheers.”

[ratfink-kryptonite]

What is your top 3 ship from The X Files? 🛸

So sorry you asked me this ages ago!

1. Mulder x Krycek (they're my die-hard OTP)

2. MSR

3. Jeffrey Spender x Marita Covarrubias (as weird as that is, I like to think something happened after he rescued her from that lab. I just want Spender to have a happy ending!)

[sproutwings]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

The lovely @crestfallercanyon tagged me for this weeks ago, and I haven't been ignoring it - I just didn't get around to it sooner. Sorry!

How many works do you have on AO3? 380 (382, technically, because two are still anon/unrevealed exchange works.)

What’s your total A03 word count? 1,123,214

What fandoms do you write for? Currently, mostly DCU, The Flash and a bunch of tiny fandoms, but I've been writing fanfic for ages, so I went through quite a few fandoms.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

a) cut me open, take my heart (DCU, JayTim, 1744 kudos) b) A Bird in the Hand (DCU, Dickstroke, 1694 kudos) c) Hook(er), Line and Sinker (The Flash, Coldflash, 1586 kudos) d) No Shortage of Blood (Original Works, Starving Vampire/Vampire Hunter Having A Moral Crisis, 1453 kudos) e) Portrait of the Artist as a Middle-Aged Man (Gossip Girl, Dan/Blair/Chuck, 1149 kudos)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I always try to, but sometimes it takes a while to get around to it. /o\

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have no idea. I used to write a lot of angsty stuff back when I was younger but the older I get the more I gravitate towards fics that leave the characters in a... well, maybe not necessarily in a good place exactly, because I tend to ship a lot of dysfunctional ships and write unhealthy relationship dynamics, but I don't want the characters to feel hopeless and unhappy in the end, so even when they're in a bad situation, they're making the best out of it.

A very old, very angsty fic of mine is Too Close To Touch (Harry Potter, various permutations of Draco, Harry and Hermione). I don't know if it's the angstiest overall, but it occasionally still gets comments so it's fresh in my mind despite having been written almost two decades ago.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh no, this is similarly hard to answer. Maybe Throw Away the Plan (The Flash, Coldwestallen)? Most of my endings seem to be "the main conflict of the story is dealt with, the ship kisses and things are okay-ish for now". 🙃

Do you get hate on your fic? Maybe once or twice, but nothing dramatic or memorable, luckily enough.

Do you write smut? Sometimes.

Do you write crossovers? No.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes! Someone copied a few of my fics word by word, replaced the names and posted them as Kpop RPS. D: D: D: I got the author to take them down, but they did it with a lot of people's fics and eventually AO3 banned them.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a few! I blanket allow translations, as long as they're credited properly and not posted anywhere but AO3.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Yes, but it was a really long time ago, and coordinating was pretty stressful. I prefer to work on my own schedule.

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? Noooo, don't make me choose. I love so many ships! If I absolutely had to pick one, it would be Tommy/Bubonic from Eye Candy, but it mostly depends on what I'm in the mood for right in that moment.

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? There's Coldflash BDSM fic based on a long-forgotten Tumblr prompt I would have loved to write one day, but it would be far longer than anything I'm comfortable writing and it's only 'in progress' in so far that I have a few dialogue snippets from it written down yet.

What’s your writing strengths? Character voices and snappy banter, probably.

What’s your writing weaknesses? Plot!!!! As you can see by every fic I've written where the characters get captured or attacked by some nameless villain for nebulous reasons. I always handwave stuff like that because I simply can't bring myself to care about it or put any thought into it. 😅 Sorry!

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a reader, It always throws me out of the story. :(

First fandom you wrote for? The X-Files! Mulder/Krycek was teenage Sandrine's first fanfic obsession. (Though technically, I wrote terrible Star Wars and The Three Musketeers fic long before I knew what fanfic was! But I've decided that doesn't count. 😅)

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

(never been) so much at stake (OW, Vampire Moonlighting As A Barista/Exhausted Vampire Hunter In Search Of Caffeine) is probably the best, but The Biggest Score of All (The Flash, Coldflash) has my heart!

I'm supposed to tag people here, and I'm terrible at this, so @waysheswings, @sunherirai, @moriavis, @zeroducks-2, @hithelleth, @elasticella - if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged and if you want to ignore it, pretend I never mentioned your name. And anyone else who sees this and wants to answer, you're also tagged! Yes, I mean YOU. :D

[thiefbird]

LGBT (You answered B already but all the other ones I really wanted so just think of another I guess??)

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

I think Lieutenant Buckland (Hornblower book series, not Hornblower TV) did the best he could in a bad situation. He was not a man who should have been a captain, or even probably a first lieutenant, but he tried his best. (TV Buckland is an ass. Don't fucking try to get Hornblower killed to save your sorry neck, dipshit.)

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

My first OTP was actually an OT3: Nine/Jack/Rose. I do not think I've found another ship involving the Doctor that does not involve Rose. I just. I love her <3 Otherwise I don't really think I have many OTPs. Even in the X Files I think Mulder has something going on with Krycek. Maybe Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter? Just for the safety of everyone around them they should not be multishipped lmao

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

I didn't really enjoy Laurence/Granby at first, but there are some talented and dedicated writers for the pairing and they have fully brought me on board.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Granby has been pining over Laurence since the moment they stopped hating each other. That's why he didn't mind Iskierka kidnapping him to Australia. IDEK if this is a headcanon or just canon tbh but. I will defend it forever. Mulder and Scully are bi4bi. Clarissa and Diana were carrying on a very strange affair. Transmasc Will Graham. Similarly, transmasc Stephen Maturin(see the 37k+ words of fic i've published since mid februrary)

[coal15]

Me the first time I watched X-Files: omg, Mulder and Scully are so beautiful together, all protective and sweet and intense and loyal. Relationship goals. *dewy heart eyes*

Also me: okay there's no way Mulder and Krycek didn't hate-fuck a few times, am I supposed to be picking up on that vibe? *frowns in bisexual*

[spookyseraphs]

supernatural and the x-files (specifically destiel and msr) parallels

this was intended to convert my spn friends to txf and my txf friends to spn and then it got out of hand. i got tired of finding sources for everything, so you’ll just have to trust me, i’m an expert on both subjects.

cas=scully

cas/scully's faith in god vs dean/mulder being non-believers (but believing in the other) (spn) (txf)

cas being the healer, scully being a doctor (spn) (txf)

cas is supposed to guard the michael sword but falls in love vs scully sent to debunk the x-files but falls in love (spn) (txf) 

cas and scully are both immortal (spn) (txf) (also)

cas/scully's families hate dean/mulder (spn) (txf)

cas/scully coming to believe in humanity/the paranormal (spn) (txf)

i'm an angel vs i'm a medical doctor (spn doesn’t have a compilation)   (txf)

they’re not like... the best drivers

hello dean vs mulder it’s me (spn) (txf)

dean=mulder

dean/mulder's fucked up fathers (spn) (txf)

dean/mulder's eldest child syndrome and their unhealthy need to protect their younger sibling (spn) (txf)

dean/mulder being the best in their respective fields (hunting and criminal profiling) and being well known for it

dean/mulder and their porn habits (spn) (txf)

no one has ever hated themselves the way dean and mulder hate themselves (spn) (txf)

dean and mulder both have issues with fire (spn) (txf)

both die, get buried, and then come back

sunflower seeds vs pie

also they both hate nazis (spn) (txf)

yellow fever vs war of the coprophages  (spn) (txf)

ship parallels

blue and green eyes (hazel is close enough)

for some reason theres a pizza man parallel? (spn) (pt 2) (txf) (pt 2)

mulder/krycek vs dean/crowley (spn) (txf) (also)

cas/hannah vs scully/pendrell (poor hannah and pendrell never stood a chance... and died)

also cas/scully get laid ONE TIME (april/ed jerse) and they almost die because of it and then never do it again (spn) (txf)

vs dean/mulder having plenty of love interests/hookups

cas/scully have never done anything wrong ever

dean/mulder... sigh... i love them... but they've made some questionable decisions (i'm looking at you mulder: fucking the vampire THE EP AFTER SCULLY'S ABDUCTION AND WHILE WEARING HER CROSS and dean, kicking cas out and locking jack in the ma’lak box?? really guys?) (spn) (txf)

creators who think their relationship is platonic despite everyone with eyes saying otherwise (spn) (txf)

also the way that neither were ever written or intended to be romantic

the fandoms were split heavily between shippers and non shippers 

they also both had to have scenes changed because they were being played too romantic

a kiss was cut from the episode memento mori and gillovny were always trying to hold hands (x)

jackles forever wanting to cradle misha's face and the cut i love you from the crypt scene (x)

just... gillovny vs cockles in general, i am not a real person shipper, HOWEVER they are both messy (spn) (txf)

their first meetings? iconic. chemistry? immaculate. dean/mulder are super defensive but tbh cas/scully fell in love at first sight (spn) (txf)

they also had no concept of personal space pretty much immediately (spn) (txf)

they have a baby (that has magic powers) together that they lose twice (jack dies and becomes god, william/jackson is adopted and then as far as they know he dies) (spn) (txf)

cas/scully also have a kind of kid (claire/emily) that dean/mulder are willing to co-parent regardless of the fact that they definitely aren't theirs (spn) (txf)

we get an i love you that still doesn't get taken seriously or make them canon (stuck in the middle (with you) and triangle) (spn) (txf)

dean keeping cas's trenchcoat vs mulder keeping scully's cross (spn) (txf)

they go absolutely batshit when the other is in danger or dies/is dying (spn) (txf)

they're also known and used by their enemies as each other's weaknesses (spn) (txf)

msr being mistaken as a couple vs every angel and demon cracking jokes about destiel being a couple (spn) (txf)

skinner and sam just off to the side looking frustrated while msr and destiel are having a couples moment (spn) (txf)

eating each others food (spn) (txf)

appreciating each others interests (spn) (and this one) (txf)

parallels except the roles are swapped

dreamland/small potatoes vs casifer, i just think scully/dean should have realized IMMEDIATELY (spn) (txf)

mulders fight the future speech vs cas's confession (spn) (txf)

they should have kissed and didn't

it almost ambiguously canonizes them both

AND THE SECRET TAPES, the most famous msr kiss isn't an actual canon kiss, it's a blooper of gillian and david making out in front of the camera (two different times) and it wasn't scripted it was literally just them messing around (x)

this is me manifesting jackles dropping the tapes and those tapes having the same energy

they just really love each other (spn) (txf)

non ship/general parallels

leyla harrison vs becky rosen being fandom stand ins (spn) (txf)

they were supposed to end on season 5

Good but bad (absolutely iconic) sci-fi shows

they both had two finales which both sucked

they shared soooo many cast and crew and both filmed in vancouver

they're such similar shows, motw/story episodes, the funny and serious episodes, dealing with the paranormal, they're basically siblings

also siblings in the way that they handle racism, misogyny and consent/rape/bodily autonomy

the supernatural book series vs the movie made about mulder and scully (spn) (txf)

mystery spot vs monday (spn) (txf)

tall tales vs bad blood  (spn) (txf)

 the benders vs home (spn) (txf)

why did both shows use live bees??? (spn) (txf)

the fbi's most wanted and the fbi's most unwanted (also everyone involved looks cute as fbi agents) (spn) (look how cute!) (txf) (cuties!!)

the syndicate vs heaven and the cigarette smoking man vs god

the bunker vs the basement office

every single side character on both shows deserved better!!! most of them literally didn't need to die!!! and i'm still angry!!!

the poor brothers adam milligan and charlie scully existing and then being literally forgotten about until the last season

the fandoms living for things cut from the scripts (spn) (txf)

team free will vs mulder, scully, and skinner

these ones are shippy, but more my opinion than factual

both pairs just keep getting traumatic events dumped on them for absolutely no reason

cas/scully both have major exasperated why do i love this man vibes

absolutely most iconic and slowest slow burn romances of all time and are just the longest games of will they/won't they, baiting, and were never INTENDED to be slow burns

they're always willing to die/kill for each other, however they WILL NOT talk about their feelings under any circumstances

in the field where i died, mulder says that he and scully have been around each other in past lives but never romantically and according to chuck, every other universe's castiel just pulled dean out of hell and listened to his orders

SO in these other lives/universes they were always linked to each other but only in this life/universe do they fall in love

the last seasons really fuck up my favorite characters

dean should not be that shitty to jack OR cas for that matter

and mulder shouldn't have left scully and william (and dearest dana?? DANA?)

and, controversial opinion, but cas/scully could do so much better and deserve so much better but dean/mulder... it's the best they'll ever get

HOWEVER, i feel like their love is MORE powerful BECAUSE cas/scully could do better but they don't want better or normal they want dean/mulder and they will fight to the death for it, it's not the easy choice, it's just what they want

and i say this with all the love in the world for both dean and mulder, but cas could have just followed his orders and returned to heaven like every other version of himself did. scully could have easily found a normal man to settle down and have 2.5 kids with. dean was always going to be stuck in chuck's plans, and mulder absolutely could not just go find a wife to settle down with.

cas/scully put up with SO MUCH SHIT from dean/mulder, while being ALWAYS FAITHFUL to them, it was never the easy option to love these men and stay by their sides, it was hard and they worked for it!!!

they’re both the greatest love story ever told, they tied

[mldrgrl]

Last First Kiss

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: This is for all the Ed Jerse Anons sitting in my inbox who all want a variation on the theme of Scully not being satisfied that Ed would be the last man she was with.

The appointments were on the calendar for the third Thursday on the month for six months, not a secret, but they were simply marked “Scully - doctor,” like they were run of the mill check-ups and not aggressive chemotherapy.  Every third Friday was marked “Scully - out of office.”

Mulder did his best not to be too solicitous, wished her well when she packed up her things before lunch, made lame jokes about how much he’d get done without her ripping apart his theories for a day.  He didn’t know how she spent her weekends after those appointments, she could be intensely private about certain aspects of herself, her health being one of them, but it was obvious from the paleness of her cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, and the constant tremor her body seemed to have come Monday, that she suffered.

He wished she wouldn’t push herself so hard, but then again, she was a fighter.  He had to admit he was a bit in awe of her determination not to let such a grim diagnosis stop her from doing anything.  It had certainly stopped him.  Though she didn’t know it, his free time was mostly devoted to finding answers.  He didn’t care who he had to go through to find the men who gave her this disease.  If they knew how to give it to her, they knew how to take it back.

As the months went by though, the nosebleeds only got worse and at a certain point, she’d even stopped demanding that he not look at her when she did her best to clean herself up or given him dirty, ungrateful glares when he brought out the packet of tissues he’d started carrying around in his breast pocket and slipped them into her hand.  She’d stopped locking the connecting doors of their motel rooms or trying to disguise the sound of her retching in the middle of the night by running the sink at full blast.  The last two times, she’d even let him kneel beside her and dab her cheeks and the back of her neck with a cool washcloth as she limply clung to the side of the toilet.  

If he wasn’t scared before, he was now.  He could persevere as long as she was, but the moment she looked up at him with a tired, resigned gaze that told him he was finally allowed to see her like this because it didn’t matter anymore, he knew she had given up.  And now, he was desperate for those answers.

Appointment number five loomed like a thundercloud.  Mulder was tense all week and Scully was quiet.  Time moved like molasses Thursday morning.  He tried to focus on the expense report for their last case, but his mind kept wandering to ways he might offer his services to help her through the weekend.  Even with the minutes dragging by, suddenly she was shutting her computer down and he hadn’t come up with anything better than, “if you need anything, you know you can call me.”

Scully left with a murmured “see you Monday,” and he chickened out on saying anything more than a soft goodbye.  He bit his lip and as soon as he heard the elevator ding and the doors close, he choked on a quiet sob he’d been reigning in.  As quickly as he let his emotions overtake him, he pulled himself back together and pounded a fist against the top of his desk.  Scully was out there bravely fighting a losing battle alone and he wasn’t helping her by crying at his desk.  It was time for his check-in with the Gunmen, who were following up on leads in his stead.

But, the boys had nothing for him.  Nothing new, anyway.  Mulder cursed.  He was pretty sure his best bet was the black-lunged sonofabitch that seemed to pull all the strings from every direction and he’d been trying to lure the old man out of hiding for weeks to no avail.  There had to be something he could do.

He stayed at the office well into the evening, poring over his files for some connection he might have missed.  There was so much there and yet nothing at all.  He was just digging deeper rabbit holes with every file.  He finally went home when he felt like his vision was becoming too blurry to ready anything further, but he was back at it again before the sun even came up.  Strewn across his desk and the floor was Scully’s abduction file, the files on Max Fenig, Duane Barry, the women in Allentown, the personnel file he’d poached on Alex Krycek, and others bearing the slightest hint of alien activity.

Halfway through the day, it dawned on him that maybe he should change his tactic.  He wasn’t a religious man, but Scully was a religious woman, and there were examples of miraculous recoveries all over the world.  He gathered up the mess he’d made and made another printing out reams of research on holy sites and unexplained recoveries from illnesses.  Amongst them all, he found one that appealed.  In fact, it excited him so much that he found himself grabbing he jacket and driving to Scully’s apartment with a hopeful flutter in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking though, knocking on her door that Friday evening.  He hadn’t even gotten a good look at her before he was asking her if she’d ever heard about the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes.  She answered his knock in a pair of snow-white flannel pajamas that were rolled up at the sleeves and ankles.  Her face was almost as white as her sleepwear, aside from the hollow grey smudges under her eyes.  Her eyes themselves were so thoroughly bloodshot it looked like it might be painful just to keep them open.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, taking her in.  “I didn’t mean to...to…”

She blinked slowly at him, like a sleepwalker still in a dream.  “Our Lady of Lourdes,” she repeated in a quiet slur.  “In France.”

“Yeah.  Yes, France.”

“What about it?”

“Um…”  

“Sorry, I need to sit down.”

“Don’t apologize,” he answered, following her to the couch.  

He glanced around.  There was a blanket waterfalling off the couch, crumbled tissues scattered across the coffee table, and a basin strategically placed on the floor beside the couch, just below the spot where the impression of her head still lingered on a pillow.  Scully pushed the blanket out of the way and folded herself up like a sheet of origami into the empty corner of the couch.

“I should go,” he said.

“Are you going to tell me the story of Saint Bernadette?” she mumbled.

“You know it?”

“Of course I know it, Mulder.”

“Oh.”

“You can tell it to me anyway.  I like your stories.”

“You do?”

“Sit down.”

Tentatively, Mulder took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.  He surreptitiously slid the basin away from his feet and picked up a closed photo album that was wedged beneath the back cushion.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Photo album.”

“Well, yeah.  Are they of you?”

She nodded.

“May I?”

She nodded again.  He opened the book and on the first page was a black and white mugshot of a swaddled newborn with a pinched face.  Next to it was the classic, naked baby on a bearskin rug photo that every parent seemed to think was necessary.  He had one of his own somewhere.  He chuckled to himself.

The next pages were a hodgepodge of Scully family photos.  There was a pensive looking toddler Scully on the lap of her smiling sister, both with loose red curls and matching baby blue dresses.  There was all four Scully children, the boys in sailor suits, the girls in navy blue pinafore dresses standing in front of a docked ship.  There was Scully blowing out eight candles on a birthday cake.  There was a professional photo of Scully from the waist up in a white lace dress and a white veil, looking upwards with gloved hands clasped in prayer.  

He turned to a page of school photos, all eerily similar, the progression of time marked only by the changes in Scully’s face and the length of hair, but the constant being the dark blazer and plaid skirt of a Catholic schoolgirl.  She only smiled in one, which he guessed to be about third grade, the rest a study in concentrated seriousness.

And then there was a photo that made him stop and bring the album closer to his face.  “Scully,” he said, squinting.  “Was your mom a triplet?”

“No,” she said, with a quiet laugh.  “She was the middle of three girls.  All a year apart.”

“I mean, they look...identical.”  And they really did.  He saw three Margaret’s in a line with their arms around each other, same dark curls, same shape of the jaw and brow, same red lipstick, even.

“The one on the right is Aunt Kate, the one on the left is Mary Pat.”

“Kate.  Katherine?  Is that where your middle name cames from?”

“Nope.  Mary Kate, Mary Margaret, Mary Pat.  Only Aunt Mary Pat uses the Mary.”

“Wait, so your mom and her sisters are all named Mary?”

“Technically, sort of.”

“What was your grandmother’s name?  Mary Magdalene?”

“Angela.”

“Oh.”

“Mary Angela.”

Mulder chuckled.

There were a few more pages of family photos and then they changed into pictures of places and people who he assumed were friends from high school or college.  There was a photo of Scully with long wavy hair holding a sleeping baby as a priest touched its little bald head.

“Your godson?” he asked.

“Mmhm.”

He flipped a few more pages.  There was photos of a cabin in the snow, of Scully in cold weather gear holding a string of fish, of a silver Volkswagen Rabbit, and a slew of photos of a beach and a lighthouse.

“Where’s this?” he asked.

“Point Loma.  It was one of my favorite places as a kid.”

“And who is this?”  He turned the photo on the next page towards Scully, of her pressed cheek to cheek with a fair-haired man with freckles across his nose and forehead.

“His name is Ethan.”  She sat up a little reached out to touch the photo with her fingertips for a few moments and then she curled back into the corner and made a small noise in the back of her throat.

“What?”

“Ethan was the last relationship I was in.”

“Oh.”

“It didn’t last long.  Three months, I think.  I don’t know, it just occurred to me that...I guess I always thought I’d have more time to…”

“To what?”

“I don’t know.”  She shook her head.  “Nothing.  Ethan will have been the last man to love me, even for a short time.”

A protest formed on Mulder’s tongue, but he held it back and looked at the picture of Scully and her ex-boyfriend again.  Maybe if things had worked out with this Ethan character, they never would’ve even met.  Or with that other guy, that Jack Willis guy from that case a few years ago.  Maybe if it had worked out between them, she wouldn’t be here now, though he can’t imagine Scully and Jack as having ever been very good together.  He really didn’t want to think about it, either.

“And Ed Jerse,” she said.

Mulder snapped to attention at the mention of that name and looked over at her.  “What about Ed Jerse?”

“Ed will be my last first kiss.”  She snorted softly and closed her eyes, brows knitting together slightly.  He took a glance at her mouth, at the dry, cracked lips that bastard had been lucky enough to touch.  It made him sad and angry.

“You do have time, Scully,” he said, emphatically.

“No, I don’t, Mulder.”

“Yes, you-”

“I don’t.”  She opened her eyes and leveled her gaze at him.  “Mulder, I’m dying.  You know it as well as I do, you just don’t want to face the truth.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.  I’m not getting better, I’m getting worse.  The tumor hasn’t changed and the chemo has just made me sick.  There isn’t anything left to do.  I know this is hard for you, but it’s just a matter of time.  And I won’t be making a pilgrimage to France to pray to the Virgin Mary and drink from healing waters, if that was your bright idea.”

“Why not?  Why not try everything we can?”

“I would rather spend the time that I have left doing the things I love.  I love my job and that’s what I want to do for as long as I’m able.”

“I can’t accept that this is the end, Scully.”

“You’re going to have to.”  Her eyes welled with tears, but didn’t spill over.

Mulder looked away and closed the photo album.  Scully slumped against the couch and shivered.  She hugged her arms across her chest and curled up even tighter.  If she got any smaller, she’d disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder whispered, slipping off the couch to his knees.  He shuffled over to Scully’s side of the couch and put a hand on her arm, leaning close.  “It’s not over until it’s over.  Ethan isn’t the last man to love you, I am.  Maybe you don’t think it’s the same, but I do.”

“Mulder…”  She unraveled enough to put a hand on his cheek.  “You don’t have to.”

“I love you.”

“I know.  I...I know.”

He leaned into the palm of her hand for a moment and then reached up to cup her face with both hands.  “You’re not dying,” he whispered, just before bringing his lips to hers.  “There’s time,” he said, pulling back before moving in again.  “Don’t give up.”

The three kisses he pressed to her mouth were soft and chaste, but they’re the most heartfelt and tender kisses he’s ever shared with anyone.  He felt her tears running down between the webbing of his fingers and he brushed them away with his thumbs.  She held his wrists as he placed whispersoft kisses against her closed eyes and wet cheeks.

“I’m going to do everything I can for you,” he said.  “Everything.”

“I know.”

“Fight.”

She nodded.  He stroked the back of her head once and kissed her temple before rising.  As much as he wanted to stay, he had work to do and he needed to get to it as quickly as possible.  Maybe he could get her to hold on a little longer, but in his heart he knew he was running out of time.

The End

[cryptidsolo]

youre into sculder, but do you have other ships in X files you enjoy?

Honestly I'm such a die hard for msr that I don't really think about any other ships within the x files....

But if I had to choose another ship it would probably be Scully / Reyes bc I'm just a simple lesbian and they're so cute 🥺

If I had watched txf in highschool I probably would have been a Mulder / Krycek shipper lmaooo

[mulderspice]

1DAOUTT (one day after Out of Touch Thursday) 3/20/2020 A MEMO FROM THE MULDER/KRYCEK ROMANTICS ASSOCIATION: 

IN LIGHT OF RECENT EVENTS, WE STRONGLY ENCOURAGE YOU TO BREAK THE SOCIAL DISTANCE TO WISH OUR SEXY, COOL, HOT, SEXY AND BELOVED COFOUNDER CLAIRE WAYNESGIRLFRIEND A HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY. 

year after year @brucewaynesgirlfriend remains one of my bestest friends and parner in crime the Nick Lea to my Will Arnett and my fellow Daryl Hall groupie.....harrie to my Sally..............  There is no better way to spend time with someone over the internet than watching horrible movies, listening to pussy poppin 80s music and reading ship manifestos so hard we can hear each other dry heaving from states away. Everyday I kneel and pray to Nick Lea and thank him for giving up his career so we could be best friends. Thank you for always listening and being someone I can lean on when I need to and for always making me laugh and Vibe. when time travel is finalized Sara Smile is gona be renamed Claire & Kaitlyn SMILE 

🤡🥂🎂 HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLAIRE 🎂🥂🤡

[kyouryokusenshi]

#1, 10, 14 of the salty asks please 😊

Yay!! Thx for the ask! 

#1.  What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?* --Tough question. I never quite understood where the Mulder/Krycek ship came from, but it seems to be crazy popular. I saw your answer to this one as well RE the Stella/Scully ship. I really tried to get into reading it, but it’s just hard because I just see Gillian with Gillian lol. 

#10  Most disliked arc? Why? Hmm, not sure if it counts as arc, but the William storyline. Just badly executed all around as much as I love Scully and Mulder as parents. Just handled very poorly. 

#14  Unpopular opinion about your fandom? I think the thing that bugs me the most is when people go on and on about how toxic the fandom is. Every community has it’s bad apples. Every. single. one. While I’ve certainly had my share of disagreements with fellow Philes, my overall experience has actually been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve met so many amazing people and met so many friends through this fandom. I do try and steer away from the drama- aint nobody got time for that. But left and right I see people threatening to leave the fandom and I just don’t get it.

[discordantwords]

tag game: shipping edition

I was tagged by @ancientreader and @a-candle-for-sherlock, thanks!

This is... probably going to be pretty boring, to be honest. I consume and enjoy a lot of media, but I don't really get that head-over-heels fannish excitement for very many things.

First ship you ever read fic for: Mulder/Scully. The year was 1997, and I was thirteen years old with a brand spankin’ new AOL account and a computer with a modem (connected by PC card!) You better believe the first thing I did was type "X-Files" into the search bar.

I found my way to the AOL XF message boards, and realizing that there were people out there who not only wanted to *talk* about the X-Files, but actually *write* about it completely blew my mind. I think I found the Spooky Awards archives first and read my way through everything I could get my hands on, age-appropriate or not. Mostly not. Definitely not.

First ship you ever wrote fic for: Mulder and Scully again, but *years* after my first blush of infatuation with the show. I was always too intimidated to dive in while it was still on the air. I think I first tested the waters around 2006 with a short little (gen) horror story called The Barn, and then followed it up with my heavily-revised but still-probably-pretty-terrible casefic Gerber Daisies where a recently resurrected Mulder hunts a group of serial killers and slowly repairs his relationship with Scully over the course of S8.

Though I will say that before I knew what shipping or fandom or fanfiction even *was*, as a young child I used to make up stories in my head where Kyle Reese from The Terminator managed to come back in time again and live happily ever after with Sarah Connor. I never wrote them down. But maybe that counts?

Ship you write the most now: Sherlock/John. I have mixed feelings about S4, but the love is still there for me and not likely to fade any time soon.

Ship you read the most now: Sherlock/John. I tend to be somewhat fandom monogamous, so if I ever switch gears and start reading/writing a lot of another ship, it's probably a sign that I've moved on for good.

Newest ship: Hmm... I've watched a lot of Supernatural, but almost entirely out of order, so I have a kind of muddled idea of what happens when. But though I'm not particularly invested, I can totally see why people ship Dean/Cas.

Rare ship you wanna read more of: None that I can think of at the moment.

Your taboo ship: I don't have very many ships at all, so I can't really think of one that fits this criteria.

They never met in canon ship: I have a mild curiosity about what might happen if Irene ever met up with either Eurus or Molly.

Your unexpected ship: Possibly Jaime/Brienne from Game of Thrones. I don't know if it's so much a romantic ship as a please-have-these-characters-on-screen-together-all-the-time sort of thing. I just really enjoy their interactions. 

Oh! And Hannibal/Will Graham. It never even crossed my mind once while reading Red Dragon, but the show... hooooo boy.

The ship you always forget to give love to: Mulder/Krycek. I haven't read all that much, but there was such a simmering hate/attraction between the two of them onscreen that was kind of hard to ignore at times.

Ship your OC with a canon character: I'm not entirely sure I have any OCs well-drawn enough to ship with anyone. Um, Mac Gerber, the serial killer from Gerber Daisies is probably my best bet. It's been a while since I revisited that story, but I'm pretty sure I wrote Charlie Scully at least partway in love with him, so I'll go with that. Does Charlie Scully count as a canon character if he was mentioned but never appeared on screen?

A ship you’re embarrassed to ship: Erm, Cathy/Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, maybe? It’s hard to really call it a love story, but I find the depths that they push one another to to be incredibly compelling.

Your most romantic ship: Given the right context, I think they're all pretty damn romantic.

Your sexiest ship: All of them, I think?

Your most tragic ship: Hm. I guess I'll go back to my early childhood proto-shipping and say that Sarah Connor/Kyle Reese was pretty damn tragic. The whole thing where he fell in love with her photo and always wondered what she was thinking when it was taken? And it turns out she was thinking of him after he died? Yeah. Preteen me shed SO MANY tears over the end of that movie.

Not sure who has already done this one, so if you feel like filling it out, consider yourself tagged!

[scully-eats-sushi]

Break me down a Krycek, pal

You got it. 

How I feel about this character: Krycek is a repellent, unrepentant mercenary killer. How else could I feel about him other than loathing of his character? His looks are objectively good but oily, not wholesome like Mulder. But, I think he was a better, more interesting villain than CSM. You just never knew what Krycek’s motives were. I think he was bi and he had this love-hate thing for Mulder. I am undecided on whether Mulder felt similarly before he figured out that Krycek was a double agent.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: The scene with Marita Covarrubias was pretty hot, but it’s hard to say if she’s fundamentally evil, so I feel a little bit sorry for her.  

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I think he would have been a good partner pairing for Fowley. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: His character makes him unattractive. I don’t go for bad boy types. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: They should have killed off CSM instead and kept Krycek. He was a good, interesting villain. 

Thanks for the ask, my friend!

[ajora]

So I got a message on my fandom blog

I won’t copy-paste, but basically the user was trying to manipulate me into staging a witch hunt against someone I don’t even know/know of because of their “fetish” (of which I saw nothing upon a brief skim of the blog) and their propensity for aging up characters and shipping a human with a gem; the user claimed both of the latter as pedophilic, even though the characters involved are fictional and about the same maturity level anyway*. 

I blocked them as soon as I could.

But, guys, there are things I absolutely loathe in fandom, one of which is the prevalence of penises/tentacles/phallic stand-ins for penises suddenly appearing without warning in what’s marked as a f/f fic**. What do I do? I gloss over it and move on. I don’t go attack the creator or pester other people to summon a mob for me because I think it fetishizes trans women and intersex people. Jesus. I’d ask wtf is wrong with people, but I remember Strikethrough and that crusader group in the early days of ff.net who tried to get NC-17 fics taken down. I remember the anti-Mulder/Krycek wars. This is just all more of the same. People love attacking other people. 

So anyway I had a bit of cake after work. That was nice. Oh also, this was the blog of the person who messaged me:

... Hahahaha. They wanted to dish it but they can’t actually take it. 

* The hilarious thing here is that I drew stevidot as a reaction to the hate that part of fandom was getting, way back when I was still kinda new to the fandom. What does the user complain about? The person they wanted to attack likes stevidot. Like, I don’t even ship it and I skip right over the fanfics but I will defend that person’s right to ship whatever they want.

** All I want is some nice carpet-munching. Why is that so hard?

[ghostbustermelanieking]

xf fic write-in drabbles

so these are the things i came up with in last night’s fic write-in, hosted by @lepus-arcticus (thank you for hosting btw, i had a ton of fun!). there’s three drabbles under the cut, all based off of prompts that were part of the challenge. (more details at @txf-fic-write-in )

keep in mind that this stuff was written fast, is unedited, and was written while i was very tired. none of them make much sense, and #2 is pure crack and probably wildly ooc. it’s wildly scary and fun to post something i haven’t plotted, nor meticulously reread or edited. 

prompt #1: one word prompt - diner (written in 15 minutes)

The lights of the diner wash out her face. She looks worn out, drawn with a stubbly pencil with smudged edges. Like she could easily disappear. He’s catching her at the end of a shift at the hospital, exhausted, hair slipping out of her ponytail.

“I ordered your coffee the way you like it,” he tells her.

“Thank you.” She rubs her eyes with two fingers as she sits down. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” He pushes the mug across the table towards her. It’s grown cold in the waiting. They agreed on eight o’clock and it’s eight thirty. She takes a sip and winces at the temperature.

“I’ve missed you,” he says.

She fiddles with the box of Sweet’n’Lows. “Don’t.”

“I think I need to. It hasn’t been the same without you. I’ve been lonely.”

“I’ve been lonely, too. But you know it has to be this way.”

He huffs out a sigh, annoyed. “Because you needed space?”

“Because I was trapped in that house, Mulder, and there was no clear way out. I was suffocating. I needed to breathe.”

“Are you breathing now?” His voice is low. His fingers tap frantically on the plastic-y table top. It’s sticky with the remnants of a thousand breakfasts.

She breathes out. “I don’t know.”

The light catches her at an odd angle, and her hair falls across her face like filtered sunlight. Before he can stop himself, he reaches across the table and tucks the loose strands behind her ear. She stares into the coffee, unblinking.

“Come home,” he says. “One night. Just one.” What he doesn’t say is that he’s hoping that one night will be enough to get her to stay.

“Mulder, I can’t.” Her fingernails are gnawed to the quick. She hasn’t chewed her nails in years; or maybe he just hasn’t noticed.

“Scully,” he says. Her name tumbles out of his mouth, loose and tangled in the air.

There’s a pause of some sort between them. She opens her mouth, closes it. He slides his hand across the table to touch hers.

She stands, so fast that her knees hit the bottom of the table. “I can’t do this, Mulder. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

“Scully.”

Her mug tips over, making a sharp clanking sound against the table, brown liquid sloshing like a flood towards the ketchup bottle. The old man at the end of the counter turns to look at them.

Scully blinks hard, looking at the ground. “I have to go,” she repeats. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“Scully…”

She cups his cheek, beard stubble under her hands, and kisses him. “I love you,” she repeats, before turning and leaving. Her car is parked out front; Mulder watches her leave from the giant window he is sitting by. He grabs a pile of napkins and mops up the coffee. He looks at the top of the table until it doesn’t look like anything anymore. He tries not to think of her, reply her I love you in his mind over and over again.  

The waitress asks him if he wants anything else. He orders another coffee. It’s an all-night diner and there doesn’t seem to be much point in going home.

prompt #2: trope challenge - skinner ships it (written in 30 minutes)

Walter Skinner may or may not be slightly drunk. He’s also on a mission.

Another teamwork seminar, another wine and cheese reception. And there are Agents Mulder and Scully, sitting together just like he expected. Mulder’s leaned halfway back in his chair, tearing a slice of cheese into two, four, six, and sandwiching it between crackers like a wobbly skyscraper. Scully’s sipping politely at wine, ankles crossed, mouth moving like she’s saying something too softly for anyone to hear. Mulder grins like an idiot, his hand brushing her elbow. They think they’re so clever.

“Sir,” Scully says, startled, when he appears out of nowhere. Mulder’s chair legs hit the floor hard as he turns to look at Skinner.

“You two think you’re so clever,” he tells them.

Wary, Mulder mouths, What did I do now? to Scully. She looks just as confused as he does, mouth hanging slightly open. “Sir, I don’t know what you…”

“I can see right through you, you know.” He points at them. “You’re very obvious with your… looks. And every few weeks one of you shows up in my office whining about how the other has disappeared and is in mortal danger and you need me to hunt them down. You’re very obvious.”

Scully’s mouth is all the way open in astonishment. Mulder looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh or scream or one of the two. He also looks extraordinarily uncomfortable. Good.

“Sir…” Scully says cautiously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know that you two are lovers.”

Mulder chokes on a cracker. Scully’s face flushes. Skinner concludes that he is more than slightly drunk. But the mission still stands.

“Sir, I can assure we haven’t…” says Mulder, at the same time Scully says, “I have no idea what you’re getting this from!”

He’s almost disappointed. “You… you really haven’t?”

They’re both blushing and studiously not looking at each other. They both slowly shake their heads.

“Never a date or a-a kiss or anything?”

Scully is staring a hole in the ground. Mulder shakes his head again.

“Oh.” Skinner feels very disappointed. “You should, you know. That Bureau policy stuff is bullshit. And besides that, I’ve seen you two looking at each other.”

Scully is pressing her palms together so hard that her knuckles whiten. They both look like they’d rather be somewhere else. Slowly, Mulder says, “How we… look at each other?”

“Sure. Like you’re in love.” Skinner shrugs. “It’s kind of adorable, you know. You look like an old married couple. Like me and Sharon. And everyone calls you the Spookies.”

Scully coughs, tucking her chin so close to her chest that it makes it look like she’s about to disappear.

Skinner lowers his voice. “Agent Mulder? Will you make sure I get invited to the wedding?”

Mulder fiddles with a pen in his suit pocket. “Of course, sir. I’ll even make sure you give a speech.”

“Thank you, Agent.” He feels some fatherly impulse to pat their heads, so he does. “You two are my favorites, you know. Even though you’re both pains in the ass.”

“Thank you, sir,” Scully mumbles behind clenched teeth.

He pats their heads again before leaving.

---

Walter Skinner wakes up the next morning with a raging headache and enough embarrassment to fuel a small nation. His bosses are not happy. He’s relieved that the seminar doesn’t officially start until today.

He writes out a very dignified apology on his laptop and prints two copies of it to shove under Agent Mulder and Agent Scully’s doors. He’s almost too embarrassed to face them. Twenty minutes later, he receives a post-it note in Mulder’s handwriting that says, You’re paying for the wedding, sir.

prompt #3: msr from another character’s perspective - csm (written in 15 minutes)

He’s been watching them for years.

Since the moment Agent Scully came into Blevin’s office, looking nervous and eager on the other side of his cloud of cigarette smoke. Since he listened to their first meeting over the crackling wiretap. Since his son came to his home and pointed a gun at him, demanding to know why she’d been taken instead of him.

He knows that Agent Mulder loves her, has known since that night. He is protective, a charging bullet when she is gone. His men reported him spending his nights on Skyland Mountain, searching, waiting. He ordered that Agent Scully be brought back. He feels some kind of off-kilter sympathy for his son, his searching. And to his credit, he never believes that Agent Scully loves him back.

Sure, she follows him, but is it all in the name of duty? Diana loves him more visibly, in a clear and fierce way. She stays by his bedside during the surgery. But still, Scully comes for him afterwards, his spies inform him. Months later, and his spies are telling him that Agent Scully is sharing his son’s bed. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, unsure of how, exactly, to process this information. “It could be a useful match,” he says, finally.

He weaves, manipulates, makes sure everything falls into place. Alex Krycek dumps him down the stairs and someone picks him up and carries him away. A few days later, his loyal spies fill him in. Agent Scully is pregnant. Agent Mulder is gone. Good.

Like his father, Agent Mulder dies, and like his other father, Agent Mulder doesn’t stay dead. He is a wavering ghost, hovering by Scully’s side until the threat grows too great. More spies attend the birth of his grandchild. A healthy boy, William. More reports come: the boy has powers. Agent Mulder is gone. He smokes and he waits. He knows his only grandchild will come someday, seeking answers to questions he doesn’t know how to ask. His son comes instead, Agent Scully trailing behind him. Everything points to the fact that she does love him. One little ray of sunshine in his life.

His son leaves and missiles rain down. Someone else finds him, carries him away again. He cannot die. The plague is coming, and he will not die. And as one last punishment to his son, he will make sure that his beloved Scully can’t, either.

The plague will come. His grandson will come. And Agent Scully will not die. It feels like a fitting end, all things considered.