#then they came home they watched xfiles with me for a bit then we put on the glow up

[rachiller]

I actually had such a peaceful Tuesday off. Like, yes I didn’t get out of bed until like 2 & shower until 4 but I took it easy and didn’t put any pressure on myself and just like. Breathed and it was calm and I felt peaceful and just took time to be a quiet little slug.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x non!binary reader - part 8

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

Mulder pulled (Y/N) behind him as Winterfield approached. 

“I was going to bring you that buffoon of a sheriff as your first kill, but...” He grinned, sharp teeth appearing in his smile, “I suppose this works.” Mulder pulled his gun, aiming to towards the mad doctor. 

Suddenly, their stomach lurched. They turned away, puking up what felt like everything they’ve ever eaten. They moaned in pain, holding their stomach. When they inspected the puke, they backed away, seeing that their bile was tinged pink with blood. 

“What did you do to them!” He shouted. 

“Unfortunately, in all of my trials of turning my army, I have come to a conclusion. The DEA will leave their system very quickly and they can get away. However, when I give them the added poison, that...that brings them back to me. The bite cures all.” 

(Y/N) coughed, wet and painful sounding. They fell to their knees, their body jerking with each cough. Mulder went down besides them, seeing the blood splattered from each cough. 

“It’s already too late, Agent Mulder. If you want your partner to survive they must receive the bite. It is their only chance.” Winterfield turned away from them, staring up at the moon, hunching over and beginning to turn.

“Mulder.” They gasped, “You gotta get out of here.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” He said, keeping an eye on. 

“I’m gonna die.” They gripped onto his shirt sleeve, blood staining where their fingers touched, “I can’t be the reason you die too. Please.” Mulder squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Alright, Winterfield. You got your wish.” He opened his eyes, holstering his gun and pulling (Y/N) to their feet, “Save them.” Mulder and (Y/N) stared at the beast. He was down on all fours and looked exactly like the descriptions. The size of a bear, but the body of a wolf. His eyes blazing red. 

“I knew you would see things my way.” The beast growled. 

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) started to panic. They tried to move away from Mulder but he had grabbed them by their arm and held it out. He wrapped his arm around their middle. 

“Mulder no!” They cried, “MULDER!” They watched as Winterfield’s awaiting jaws came closer. (Y/N) pulled at his fingers, scratching even. 

“FOX!” (Y/N) screamed, “No! No no-” They were cut off by a watery huk of blood. Standing before the beast, Mulder grabbed their free hand that was attempting to loosen his grip and pulled it to his side, hitting the cool plastic of his gun holster. The beast’s mouth opened wide, ready to claim their arm in his mouth. 

(Y/N) voice trembled, “This...is for them.” They brought Mulder’s gun up and pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through Winterfield’s open mouth and opened the back of his head. Blood splattered over the walls of the cave and on the agents, the beast fell. Before their eyes, they watched the beast slowly shift back into a man.

It was finally over. The man who had haunted their life, looming over their shoulders was gone. 

“It’s finally over.” They let out a long needed sigh of relief. Their knees gave out, bringing them down to the ground, their vision growing dark. 

“Mulder...I’m going home.” They hummed. He kneeled in front of them, holding them up by their cheeks.

“No, no you’re not. We still have to get your statement, we have to prove that he was the beast. We have the evidence to expose the truth.” He tapped their face, “Come on, open those eyes. Please, this can’t be the last time I see them.” Mulder begged. The last things they heard was the echo of Mulder’s voice calling their name as they slipped away. 

- 

Assistant director Skinner looked up at the agents from the report that he had been handed in.

"So your official statement is that Dr. Lyle Winterfield was comiting these killings under psychosis that he was a werewolf. Clinical lycanthropy."

Mulder nodded, "Yes, sir."

“And you shot him in self-defense.” Mulder nodded. AD Skinner turned to the other agent. 

“How are you feeling, Agent (Y/L/N).” 

(Y/N) took a deep breath, grateful they were able to breathe at all, “I’m well, sir. Thank you.”

“But you know that lying is a punishable offense. You were involved in this XFile, putting yourself and Agent Mulder in danger. This isn’t something I can ignore.” And there it was, the beginning of the end. 

“I know, sir. And I apologize to you and Agent Mulder for that. I just... I had to find the truth.” They said sincerely. Mulder looked at them out of the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“There will be a board meeting about your status going forward. For now, you’re excused for the rest of this week. Your personal travel papers were approved for the funeral. My condolences.” 

They nodded, “Thank you, sir.” 

“You’re both dismissed.”

- 

The funeral was different than it had been the first time. The whole sheriff’s department showed up, hospital staff, nearly everyone in town. Linda Godfrey also showed up, only telling people she told them so a little. The town had decided to keep it a secret, but to keep the tourism alive they decided to make up stories that would continue to bring in paranormal investigators and those searching for the truth... just like they had been, just like Mulder.

They stayed at the cemetery, long after the crowd had gone. (Y/N) stared at the turned up soil where they had to rebury their parents. They stood, fiddling with their hands. 

“I want to thank you.” (Y/N) said to the air, “You knew something was wrong and took me away from that psycho before he could make me like him.” They teared up a little, “I just wish there was a different way home.” The crushing of the grass made them quickly wipe away their tears and turn. It was Mulder with two bouquets of flowers. 

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m your partner, I came to pay my respects, see you through this.” He kneeled down and placed the flowers against each grave stone. 

“I’m not your partner anymore. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m an agent anymore.” They shook their head, “This was all I had left. I was helping people the best way I could and now I can’t even do that.” 

“About that.” Mulder stood, “I had a little meeting with Skinner and it’s all taken care of.” 

They stared at him, wide eyed, “What?” 

“I explained that because of your involvement we could bring Winterfield out of hiding and we could close the Xfile. He agreed, but you are being reassigned.” 

They grinned, “I could reassigned for janitor duty for all I care, this is great!”

“I don’t know.” He said, “I think you’re gonna hate it.” 

“Where is it? Violent crimes? Missing persons?” 

“Nope.” 

“Come on, Mulder, don’t mess with me.” They shoved his shoulder playfully. 

“You’ve been assigned to the xfiles. You’re stuck in the basement with me.” 

They chewed the inside of their cheek before saying: “Until Scully gets back?” 

He shook his head, “Nope.” 

Their chest burst with happiness. Not only does (Y/N) get to keep their job, they also get to stay with Mulder. They grinned, hugging Mulder tightly. He hugged them back, giving them a small squeeze. They pulled away slightly, looking up at him. His green eyes sparkled and his smile was everything. 

He leaned down slowly, giving them plenty of time to pull away, and pressed a light kiss to the corner of their mouth. He pulled away quickly, seeing their shocked expression. 

“I’m sorry, that was too forward of me-” (Y/N) cut him off with their lips on his. And that’s how it all began, their journey to becoming a special agent and Mx. Mulder.

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

My first XFiles fic! Yay! I have another one planned with Krycek but I’m not sure when that was going to happen. It’s a bit of self indulgence fic so I am not sure when I’ll have the details. 

Thank you all for reading!

Taglist:

- @theres-a-dog-outside-omg

- @nyotamalfoy

- @bi-andready-tocry

[mimixis]

Towards the sun - Part 5: Part of your world

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Word Count: 1572

Summary: Pia just wanted to go to work, but oh well, shit happens.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

They were sailing for one day.

Ivar, who would not let her go, said they had another day of travel ahead of them. Time lengthened for Pia mercilessly. Ivar asked how she knew their language, and Pia told him the truth. He'd been angry with her for hiding such important information for a few hours, but he'd come back as fast as he could when the seasickness and fear would be too much. Pia held his hand and rubbed his back as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the bucket.

Before sleep, Pia played with Ivar's brothers in a game in which she had to speak only Icelandic, and they only English. They corrected each other and laughed. Ivar didn't necessarily enjoy it, he wanted to keep her only for himself. When it was late, they went to bed. Ubbe said it would be warmer on the other side of the boat because more people would sleep there, but Pia refused feeling hold on her hand that could break bones.

When they were alone again, Ivar embraced her waist and pulled her to him. Pia took off her fur and covered their legs with it and then put on her jacket. She nestled into his side, careful not to touch his upset stomach. Pia fell asleep and woke up with the boy's fingers combing her hair. She burrowed into him harder, wanting to stay warm. Hvitserk had other plans. He wanted to finish the game from the previous evening.

Pia spoke with him in a whisper, still sleepy. She did not move away from Ivar and let his hand caress the inside of her thighs under the fur. Hvitserk left them after two hours and Ubbe replaced him with a breakfast. Pia bit into a piece of dried meat.

"I surprise you did not know about me language skill, Ubbe," she said, sipping her beer. “Your wife know it first.”

“Did you talk with her?” he asked, surprised, and she nodded before putting her head on Ivar's shoulder. The boy's fingers tightened on her. If her trousers weren't so thick, Ivar's nails would break through her skin. “She has so few friends since she became a free woman.”

"I do not know if we be friends, Ubbe, so do not hope," she announced with her eyebrow raised. She had nothing to Margrethe, but something in her seemed out of place. “She tell me you share her. How you feel with it? With your brothers having her and they want to feel her still?”

Ubbe looked at her for a long time and later at Ivar. Pia did it too. His jaw was clenched, his lips arranged in a thin line. His eyes were also strangely glazed as if he would cry. Pia only now noticed that Ivar took his hand from under the fur.

“And what else did she tell you about, hmm?” Ivar asked. Pia shivered. Ivar's voice was terrifying, and she wanted to run away from him and hug him at the same time. “Was she talking about a cripple who cannot please a woman?”

Pia turned abruptly, the braids Margrethe made hit her face. If a look could kill, Ivar would be dead right now. How dare he make a victim out of him when he was the guilty one? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ubbe slipping away, not wanting to get involved in their quarrel.

“No, but she was talking about a man who tried to enter her when she was not properly prepared, who didn't see that she didn't want to lay with him who wanted to kill her because he thought if his dick wasn't hard he was not a man!” she yelled in English.

A fist hit the wooden floor. Pia jumped up and immediately stopped speaking afraid that the next place on which his fist would land would be her face. She felt someone appear behind her, and when she turned her head to the side, she saw Sigurd. She calmed down a little knowing someone would defend her.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he growled, then added. "Come back here, and you, brother, do not even dare approach her.”

"Pia is not your toy, Ivar," Sigurd told him. “And she doesn't have to meet your demands.”

Sigurd took her backpack, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his brothers. Pia stopped halfway. She was mad, Ivar was furious, but she didn't want him to think she was exchanging him for his brothers. So she sat in the middle and leaned her head against the edge of the boat. After a few minutes, however, she was unable to withstand such a seat. Fury flew through her body and she couldn't focus on anything else but her unfinished conversation with Ivar.

She wanted to go back to him, to feel confident and protected again, but she wasn't ready to apologize for the tone she used and that she didn't want to hear him out. She sat down and regretted her bitter words, but not only she was blameworthy in this situation. He reacted too emotionally as well. Pia could feel his fist on her cheek, which could have land there if she stayed longer and proceeded. She turned to the water and watched the waves and drifting ships.

“Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat?” she sang quietly. “Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl, the girl who has everything?”

The more she sang, the louder she became. She could feel people's looks from the others ships, but that didn't make her nervous. Pia felt like on stage and on the stage she always knew what to do.

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'”

Pia dipped her hand into the icy water imagining she could jump into it at any moment, change her legs into a tail and swim far away. Maybe even back to home. She looked at Ivar not stopping to sing. He looked the other way and seemed completely uninterested, but Pia knew better. Ivar listened carefully to her singing and absorbed the text.

“Up where they stay all day in the sun, wanderin’ free, wish I could be part of that world*” she finished, feeling a tear running down her cheek.

She wanted to convince herself it was the last time she was crying, that it wouldn't happen again but Pia knew herself and knew life could be shitty and she was weak. In addition, there were many long years of life ahead of her. She could not make such promises just by wanting to be strong when she really felt terrible.

“You have a beautiful voice, little dove,” she heard.

The voice belonged to the man who was on the ship next to theirs. He was tall, his head shaved, except for a small portion of hair that fell on his face. He showed a set of straight teeth and Pia didn't know if he wanted to be kind, whether he was just like that or he was trying to flirt with her. She smiled gently in thanks but said nothing not wanting him to read too much into this.

“What you sing of?” Hvitserk asked in broken English. Pia guessed that they still were playing in the game from this morning.

“A girl who live in the water and have a fishtail and fall in love with a man. Two versions of history. For children, it end happy and they become husband and wife. For adults, the girl turn in a sea foam. The mermaid not have a soul and she could have it when her loved become her husband, but he not because he loved another. She could have lived if she kill him, but she prefer to die than do that,”

Pia heard a snort and looked at the man next to the blonde one. They both had similar tattoos on their faces. The man had long beautiful hair, and his face was arranged in a grimace. Pia tilted her head and looked at him for a long time, judging.

"You sea-foam," she said to him, and he raised his eyebrows up. “Give it time. Once you be able to love again.”

"You are sea-foam too," Hvitserk said, and Pia smiled sadly and let him lead her to the rest of the crew so they could ask her questions.

She told them about the little mermaid the best she could. She thought her poor language skills would bother them, but they didn't. The Vikings loved stories and demanded more. So Pia fulfilled their wish. She told them about the princess who fell into eternal sleep. She told them about the girl locked in the tower. She spoke about a girl who went to the war instead of her father.

She tried to keep her attention on them, but she could not. Every few minutes she looked at the figure sat on the opposite side of the boat, but she immediately looked away when her eyes met his. However, she spoke louder wanting him to also enjoy the story.

She lay down without supper aching to end this day as soon as possible. Yet, she did not return to Ivar. She arranged herself comfortably between Sigurd and Hvitserk. She woke up when they came ashore.

______________

*The little mermaid - Part of your world

@unicornbaby741 @ivarandersen @jamierdr  @mulders-xfile

[altaieu]

please refrain from reb/0gging

as im watching the dark skies shift to blues, the sun is rising on a household with one less kitten in it today. i can see no stars out.

amber died yesterday.

we took her home on friday, neck tube in and accompanied by medicine, after a 9 day stay in the hospital. we were going to try our hardest to help her get get better. we’d been making plans the entire time what we’d do with her when she was healthy again; that we’d definitely let them out next more next summer and make certain the garden had no places for pests, that i’d play with them even more than i did now, that we’d get them all health insurance. we bought her the cat bed we’d been lingering over at the store to make sure she had a very comfy spot to recover in. i’d woken up late on friday but i helped my sister with feeding her, giving her medicine. i was prepared to stay up all day saturday to help.

but she hadn’t closed here eyes since she’d come home, and what my sister thought was her sleeping - nictitating membranes half closed, paws twitching like she was dreaming - maybe have been a seizure in retrospect. though she took everything well, at 7 am she was having breathing problems. she was laying sideways on the floor with her little tongue sticking out, eyes half closed. we woke everyone up. we rushed her back to the hospital immediately. we talked about putting her down, and i’m sad we didn’t in retrospect, but we had never lost a cat before and we were so hopeful she could still turn around - twice while she was at the hospital she’d perked up and looked for all intents and purposes that she was recovering. she was such a strong, healthy cat before all this happened, it was hard to think she could just go like that, but as it happened it was just complication after complication that hit her. so we held off to give her the weekend, said if she didn’t look better, we’d be back to sign the papers.

it was not even 5 hours after we’d left her there that we got the call, around 1:30 pm. she’d nosedived suddenly and they tried to resuscitate her to no success - something my sister had said yes to out of reflex, but was going to phone tomorrow to say not to do, to just let her go. we went back and saw her little body. my sister cradled her in her arms, and every time she shifted in her seat amber’s fuzzy ears swayed just a bit and i kept expecting her to shake it off, wake up, blink up at us with those big, warm, adoring eyes she always had. her head was as cold as the wind outside when i pet her and i feel as if the chill hasn’t left my hand.

now my brain keeps playing that still face against those late night/early morning memories of her jumping up on my bed and my desk, smiling at me with that big wide happy mouth, bumping her head against mine and against the curtain until i’d open it and she could look out and she’d wiggle her big fluffy butt right between me and my monitor. her tail would always be straight up as she watched the shifting shadows beyond the glass and she purred like an orchestra. then she’d sit on my lap and make the cutest face at me, and i’d pet her a little, but because she always seemed to do this when i was absorbed in writing or art i’d pat her butt until she got annoyed and leapt off, skittering out of my room and down the stairs with the noise of a horse. i’d always felt a little guilty after that, and last time, in damn november, i’d made the promise to myself that next time she came to visit i’d let her sit on me and cuddle up as long as she wanted. it’s been barely 15 hours and already i miss seeing that fuzzy face pop up from behind my desk, that fluffy butt jogging out of my room. amber, i’m so sorry i booted you away when you were lonely in the mornings and just wanted to give and receive love from me.

there’s so many things i wish we did in retrospect (in retrospect, in retrospect). i wish i had pushed harder for a vet appointment when i first saw her so listless, but i always differ to my sister and she said she had no money for it. i wish we’d gotten all our cats health insurance so it wouldn’t have been as big of a cost as it was, that we wouldn’t have been so hesitant about a vet appointment in the first place. i wish i had convinced my sis to put her down when we were there in the mornning so she could have passed away in the arms of someone she loved surrounded by people she cared about instead of laying her head against the side of a small metal cage because we were too scared to let go of her. i’m so sorry amber, we did you so wrong.

when we were there in the morning a man came in after us, an old old man who looked to be in his eighties or so. he was there about a cremation for his african grey parrot who’d passed away the night before. he had a south african accent, and i heard him talking about how he’d been with the bird for forty seven years, that he’d found it abandoned by someone else. i saw him and an old woman bawling in the parking lot afterwards. looking back i should have taken it as an omen.

when we got back to the house the first time, around 11:30 in the morning, the cats were going crazy. all three were trying to get into my room. i wanted nora to stay out so she could comfort my sister, but maggie stood on my desk for 15 minutes staring with that kitty love face and headbutting me before she fell asleep on the bed by my feet. sassy, meanwhile, was absolutely losing it, running around the house and yelling with her unique, loud “mryow” sounding vocalization, eyes wide. should have taken it as an omen.

its weird to wake up at 3 am today to three cats. a time in the morning when i know amber would’ve come to visit, given her health back. its weird to walk down and not see her stretch her big fuzzy yellow belly into a croissant shape. i miss running around the house with the knotted shoelace and having her run after me at top speed, catching it and then running along with me as its in her mouth. i miss her closing eyes as you brushed her mane. i miss that little orange spot she wore on her head like a jewel.

i don’t think i can do anything downstairs without getting choked up about how she’d lie across my legs as i did anything. i don’t think i can get back to playing spyro or watching xfiles since she was there like that the whole time for those. i don’t think i can pick up arkham knight or aco again since i’d sit out in the middle of the floor for those and she’d come up behind me and bump my back, sit on my blanket, lay across one of my legs as i played.

i worry about my sister who cannot even lie in her bed without remembering amber there, sleeping on a pillow beside her, hugging her with all her legs. that cat got her through an abusive relationship and countless depressive episodes and the inherent trauma of being trans in a world that really doesn’t want you to live.

but like whether she’s in kitty heaven as my parents would prefer to think, or she’s my sister’s little spirit guardian now, or if there’s a kitten born on this day that might cross our paths again and bump our legs and look up, i hope she’s doing good. she deserves that at least, she was the sweetest cat i ever met and she should have got more than we could give her.

i feel bad for the hospital staff too. in her stay there she charmed everyone who crossed her path and they were all rooting so hard for her to pull through. one of the vets had her out in her office walking around for exercise on one of the days she was very perky, seemingly recovering. the one we interacted with yesterday was too kind, waiving the fees for the resuscitation attempts and refunding us the 700 we put down for the next few days of care that wouldn’t come to pass. i mean, we’d already dropped 9k on her and were fully prepared to spend 1k more for that fighting chance of a weekend - and of all the things we regret that is not one of them, even if i know a thousand people who’d call us fucking idiots for it. no cent spent trying to keep her alive was a waste. between all of us, even if we had to go into debt, it was the least we could do. we put aside those hopeful dreams of actually owning a house for her, and all my daydreams of introducing them to the new place.

but that 9k could have been reduced to 4.5k (over the 8 years, putting into it each month) if we’d had health insurance on her. as much as that is, it’s tiny compared to what we just spent and would have given us the reassurance to take her to the vet the moment she got sick instead of worrying about money. please, if you have pets you care about, get them health insurance. here it’s 50 a month but that is nothing compared to the cost of vet bills even for routine checkups which it will cover 90% of, and it will give you the peace of mind that you can go to the vet whenever. the moment a pet starts acting unusual you should take them. even if its nothing, its better safe than sorry. complications can hit so fast and pile up.

i’ll be watching the other cats much more closely after this and - after i have my energy back, hopefully - i’ll follow through on that promise and pay them even more attention and get them even more toys. we’re gping to get them health insurance in january and we’re gonna spent the spring cleaning up the backyard to make it safer for the cats, just in case. when they get into the backyard in the summer, oh, its gonna be real fuckin strange not to see amber’s cute sandy coloured face under the lilac tree by the little pond. i still have photos of her from last summer and remember vividly making myself stupid in the grass to get those upward shots of her.

goodnight little lion. you had all the colours of the desert in you and all the love of the sweetest little earth angel, eager to share it. i wish we could have given you so many more years of care, eight was not enough and eleven is much too young for a kitty to go, but i hope you are warm and basking in sunlight wherever you are.

i could see no stars out until i looked behind the house. there, despite the heavy cloud cover on this overcast day, there is a single star shining brighter than i’ve ever seen before, right above us, right at the door.