#The X-Files

[agathabridgerton]

Fox Mulder Flirting Tactics 101 (tweet)

[waddingham]

F. EMASCULATA | 2.22

[ferdieinceladoncity]

oh, isn't it nice to be so highly regarded? who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, scully?

[trusttnno1]

The X-Files rewatch >> Never Again (4.13)

[slippinmickeys]

For Funfetti - Could we have either Mulder or Scully reassuring William that he's not a monster? Bonus if Skinner or the Gunmen get involved.

William against his headboard with his knees pulled to his chest, Mulder standing in his doorway. 

Knock, knock. 

“Hey,” Mulder said when his son looked up. “Thought I’d come and check on you.”

William merely sat there pulled into himself on the unmade bed, the pillows under him askew, the sheets kicked into a tangle that spilled off the edge of the mattress. 

“Okay if I come in?” Mulder continued. 

The boy merely shrugged. 

Down the lane from their home, past the rusted gate of their driveway and just beyond the sight line of the house, two agents sat in a portable guardhouse, the family’s new first line of defense. There were motion sensors and cameras now dotted along the edge of the property and a big guy named Dieter who accompanied them into town. The mood of the house felt like a breath held too long.

“So listen,” Mulder said, pulling Will’s desk chair out and settling into it, facing the bed. “Uncle Walt has spoken with one of the Bureau’s trauma therapists, who’d like to speak with you about what happened on Tuesday.” 

“I don’t want to talk about what happened on Tuesday,” William said. 

The furnace kicked on, sighing warm, dry air out of the dusty vent by the door. Outside, Krypto gave one sharp yip.

“And this is when it’s a real bummer to have a psychologist for a father, because I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, Will.”

His son looked up at him, then seemed to think better of arguing, eventually sighing heavily. 

“Trust me when I tell you that the people who try to carry this weight by themselves eventually get buried by the load.” Mulder knew this one first hand.

“And this therapist is going to what, unpack it for me?” 

“Or help you unpack it yourself.”

“Is that wise?” William asked, sounding an awful lot like his mother. He lifted his head off of his arms to look Mulder fully in the face. “How honest can I be?” 

Mulder hesitated. “This is a person who is open to…Greyskull.”

“Greyskull is one thing, Dad,” Will said, resting his head back down. When he went on, his voice was muffled by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Soulflare is something else.”

Mulder tried to imagine the mechanism of his son’s new power. Tried to imagine what it might feel like. Scully had described it as a blue-white light that burned into her retinas even behind the closed lids of her eyes. 

He looked keenly at the side of his son’s face, knew arguing with him wasn’t going to help. 

“Have you been sleeping okay?” 

“I don’t want you to shrink me.” 

Mulder smiled, leaned back in the chair, looking around the decorations in William’s room; posters for a band he could never remember the name of, the ubiquitous glow-in-the-dark stars.  On a shelf, The Death and Life of Superman novel edition, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a LEGO Empire State Building, On the Origin of Species, The Elegant Universe. A ratty baseball mitt. Samantha’s ragdoll. 

“You know you can always talk to me or Mom,” Mulder said, then held up his hands. “No shrinking, I promise.” 

Will lifted his head again, an anger in his gaze Mulder hadn’t seen before. “And talk to you about what, exactly? You guys have been through some weird shit, but you don’t know what this is like.”

Mulder sat back, twirled his wedding ring around his finger. Debated fully opening up to his son. For the first time in 25 years, he longed for a cigarette.

“When you hear people,” he started hesitantly. “In your head…” Will’s eyes narrowed at this, like he was trying to gauge whether or not his father was really attempting to have this conversation. Mulder had to decide whether or not to fully commit to it. 

“Do you see colors associated with each individual? Does each voice have a specific aura?” William’s head snapped up, an expression of profound surprise on his face. Okay, Mulder thought. Fully committed. So to speak. “Because that’s how it was for me.”

William tilted his head suspiciously. “How what was for you?”

“When I could hear people’s thoughts,” Mulder finally said. “They had color and texture. Everyone was different.” 

Several thoughts seemed to be passing over William’s face at the same time. Mulder just kept talking. 

“Skinner’s–Uncle Walt’s–was green. Rough, but even. Like running your hands over the grass on a putting green. And your mom’s,” Mulder shook his head, remembering. “It was–” 

“Orangish-pink,” William interrupted, his voice filled with awe. 

Mulder smiled at him. “Yeah,” he said. “Rose gold.” He shook his head ruefully. “The color of dawn.” 

Will blinked a few times and then spoke again. “And it feels—” he began. 

“Smooth,” Mulder finished. “Heavy. Like holding a jade egg in your palm.” 

William just stared at him. He looked like he was barely breathing. Finally, he asked, “Can you still–” 

“No,” Mulder said quickly. “No. Not for a long time.” 

Will’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

The geometric pattern of voices, all talking over each other, colors the swirling miasma of a bad acid trip. Too loud. Too much.

“I don’t know,” Mulder said honestly. “Because it seemed so effortless for you. You were born to it. You carry the gift so easily.” 

“But Dad, you could have–” 

“William,” Mulder had to stop this train of thought while it was still at the station. “You don’t understand. I couldn’t handle that gift when I had it. I ended up in a padded cell.” 

“You–”

“I was committed to a mental institution.” Those weren’t days Mulder liked to think about. “Your mom saved me. As usual. But not before someone… I lost the ability.”

“You couldn’t–”

Mulder shook his head. “And I wouldn’t want to. It was agony for me. All those colors and textures and voices—sheer terror. Your mom was the only beacon. The only quiet.”

A sun-baked quiet, Mulder remembered. Warm as a breeze through acacia and sage.

William sat, processing this. “She’s like that for me, too,” he said softly. 

Mulder understood this in a way no one else could. 

He spoke again. “Will, I don’t know if the powers you have are a burden or a gift. I think they’re probably both. But I know–a very little bit–about what some of them feel like. And you are… An immensely powerful person–in mind and spirit–to be able to handle all you’ve been given.”

He knew it wouldn’t feel like that to Will. His son didn’t know any better, didn’t know what it was like to be ‘normal,’ had nothing to compare it to. If only he could see that it was a profound victory just to face each day, to continue to be his authentic self. 

“Sometimes,” William swallowed, his voice becoming very very quiet. “I think I might be a monster.” 

Mulder rose immediately and sat down next to his son, putting his hand on his knee. Above them, Unremembered Band looked down on them, holding guitars and looking entirely too serious for people who had such a ridiculous job. 

“I have met monsters, William. I have met monsters both human and not, and I assure you, you are anything but.”

William looked unconvinced, and after a moment, he glanced up at his father and whispered “But I killed those men.”

Mulder pulled his son into him, awkward now that they were nearly the same size, his hands running up through the boy’s grassy hair, the soft thump of his heart beating against Mulder’s ribs as though seeking out synchronicity. 

“What would have happened if you hadn’t?” Mulder whispered. He looked up from Will’s head and his eyes were pulled to the brassy cap of Scully’s hair; a picture of the three of them a few years earlier in Quonochontaug. How many times had Mulder himself killed to keep her? 

He sighed. His son was now anathematized–claimed by the family curse. 

“Something bad,” Will said into Mulder’s shirt. 

“Worse than this feeling?”

His son’s head nodded into his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry you had to do what you did,” Mulder mumbled. He did not mention that he would likely have to do it again. 

He pulled William away from him so he could look him in the eyes, his hands bracketing his son’s young face. “Don’t let it change you,” he said. “The warm parts of you. Don’t let them go cold. That’s how you beat it.”

William, looking at Mulder with his mother’s eyes, nodded solemnly. 

[x-files-polls]

Josh Exley: says something really special about love and humanity

Bart "Zero" Liquori: what a character name. also jack black.

To jog your memory, here are the episodes they're from:

The Unnatural: While working in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947, a young cop, Arthur Dales (the brother of the Arthur Dales who started the X-Files) stumbles across Josh Exley, a black baseball player who is actually an alien with a love of the game hiding among humans.

D.P.O: Mulder is skeptical over a coroner's report regarding the fifth person to be struck by lightning in a small Oklahoma town. Their investigation into the latest death seems to point to the only person to have survived a lightning strike, an emotionally charged youth.

[ronanlysnch]

a list of my favorite pairings: scully and mulder, the x-files

“even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant... my touchstone.”

                                                                        “and you are mine.”

[antoschauniverse]

Mulder and Scully. And Skinner.

[sentientsky]

"Are You Bored Yet" by Wallows, Clairo

Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side

[housesalad]

dana scully may be the girl of all time

[agathabridgerton]

It was my last chance...

THE X-FILES 8.13 | "Per Manum"

[gaycrouton]

“If The X-Files was a 90s anime.”

credit: MabooCraboo on imgur

[trashy-greyjoy]

sometimes, it's not so much about the romance as it is about the devotion. the adoration.

[trusttnno1]

The X-Files rewatch >> Home (4.2)

[opentheskies]