#vienen

[caridrea]

Great scene! 🤯

[randomfoggytiger]

I've got a question for you, one that I've been thinking about, but since you have dug deeper into season 8, maybe you have a thought or two on it: If Scully had been the one to be abducted instead of Mulder, and Mulder had been partnered with Doggett, how would that have gone? I have to admit that I don't have a good grasp of Doggett's character. But I feel like they wouldn't have *not* gotten along, as in, not hated each other as such, but also not been able to work together? Doggett seems like a good and honest guy, and I think Mulder would have appreciated that. But also they would not have been very efficient as a team because they are so very different. And Mulder does have a tendency to do his own thing sometimes, and I don't know if he'd always have had the patience for Doggett. Because with Scully, while disagreeing, they argued on the same level, do you know what I mean? They had a very academic approach to problems. Doggett is very much a cop. Their styles are so different. And I think they wouldn't have hated each other, but they wouldn't have had a partnership? Mulder might have ditched him a lot? Because of their clashing personalities and also because he would just not have accepted a new partner who wasn't Scully? I find the dynamic between Scully and Doggett very interesting and it sort of starts to work after a while. But there wasn't that much love for Doggett from Mulder's side when he came back. So what would that have looked like if the roles had been reversed? Any thoughts?

What a chewy question.

We saw Mulder indignantly put up with Krycek during their early partnership, but by the end of that episode-- a mere few days-- Krycek had wormed his way into a place by Mulder's side. I think his behavior would fall into the same lines, if a tad more abrasive because of Doggett's steadfast disbelief.

I also think Vienen and Essence show best how Mulder and Doggett would have operated as partners: Mulder had something to prove, shoving and ditching and using the other man. Even then, however, he was concerned for Doggett's safety, couldn't leave a man behind, and appreciated having someone at his back. Doggett, meanwhile, thought Mulder was nuts and had every right to call his superiors and have him dragged off the oil rig in Vienen and or off his back in Essence... but didn't. Part of that was an extension of the loyalty Scully earned during their own partnership, but another part of that is because of his nature.

Doggett is a circumspect man who keeps to his place: it's not his business to speculate, only follow orders. If things don't add up, he'll advise a different course of action, but largely keeps his opinion to himself. That's their business, not his. (That doesn't stop his natural curiosity-- you need a bit of that to be a cop and solve crimes.) However, he expects the same level of graciousness and respect in return, which is why he threw Mulder against a wall in Empedocles for meddling in his personal affairs.

At the end of the day: to Doggett, the files were Mulder's, even after Mulder was "resurrected" and assigned elsewhere. Doggett didn't attach his worth to the files-- didn't even want them, really, when Scully walked permanently-- which allowed him to fall behind Scully without complaint (even when she sounded insane) and swallow his indignation at her old partner's anger.

And by Essence, he'd begun to understand Mulder: learning how best to weigh and respond to his cantankery moods and when to mete out objections. Mulder, too, had begun to give Doggett more grace, listening to his suggestions and even letting Doggett keep Scully's location a secret from himself. (...I'm not getting into that can of worms; but it is an important character beat between them.)

So, all in all, I don't think it would have been too painful. :DDDD

[leregirenga]

Las palabras van y vienen, quizás tenga algo de cierto; pero también es bien sabido que una frase bonita, un texto amable, un escrito hecho con cariño dejan un sentimiento especial en el corazón.

Si las palabras son usadas de forma maravillosa atraviesan a través de nuestro cuerpo, se meten muy dentro, nos hechizan la mente y el pensamiento; y una vez que ya están en nosotros ejercen su magia, el calor que guardan ellas...

Son melodía, canción, poesía, sentimiento entrañable que deja esa hermosa sensación de aceptación, de ser bien recibido, amado y apreciado.

Leregi Renga

[x-files-scripts]

The X-Files - “Vienen”

Written by Steven Maeda

January 22, 2001 (WHITE)

Cut lines: Doggett and Scully were doing just fine without Mulder...

Deleted scene: Skinner gets his ass chewed...

Deleted scene: Skinner carries the weight of bad news...

[cutemothman]

"when he gets old enough, you tell the kid i went down swinging"

[secretenthusiastdream]

[thexfilesbracket]

Ascension - Mulder and Agent Krycek are in a race against time to find and rescue abducted Scully before crazed Duane Barry can take her to what he believes to be his alien puppet masters.

Vienen - Doggett and Mulder unwillingly team up investigating an oil rig where some mysterious murders have happened and the possibility of the Black Oil being involved is a haunting reality.

[waywardconsultingtimelady]

Why did Mulder think that Scully was going to be sent onto the oil rig? Did he forget about Doggett being on the X files? It seemed immediately obvious to me that Doggett was being talked about.

[ace-dodo]

Me realizing I don't have to learn how to draw men to draw maxley cuz I can just make em lesbians

[lindamiux3-blog]

5 of 5 Terrans done!

[x-files-fics]

Also on Ao3-- Paresthesia

Hi! Are you going to continue Parenthesia? Please say yes! Also, when?

Yep! Here ya go!

Paresthesia, part 2

Part 1

mature | 1.5k wds | angst, msr, teesny bit ‘o fluff

-

Slowly, very slowly, she stands up and walks into the kitchen. He hears her moving things around, putting dishes away, running water, moving a kettle to the stove. After a moment, he follows.

“Scully.”

She doesn’t answer. There are still tears on her cheeks, but she ignores them, swipes angrily at them when they blur her vision. She fiddles with a box of tea bags and reaches down a mug—pauses for a moment, then pulls down a second.

“Scully,” he says again.

When she’s run out of small tasks, she turns around to face him and crosses her arms over her chest. He stands awkwardly at her kitchen table, hands resting on the back of a chair. Waiting.

“Mulder, where do you think this baby came from?”

Another jab—she goes right for the heart. “I—“ he begins, then shakes his head. “I don’t know, Scully. I thought maybe you…”

“That I what? That I went and did another round of IVF without you? After you were gone?” There’s such incredulity on her face that he’s ashamed for having thought it. Her brows are furrowed in such anguish. How dare you, they say. How could you possibly think that of me? And he wonders, too.

Mulder pulls out the chair he’s been leaning on and sits down. He drops his elbows to the table and his face into his hands. He’s so confused, and the feeling coming back to him hurts.

“How then?” He asks into his palms.

“I have had every test possible, every scan and ultrasound, to be sure this baby is normal and healthy. I couldn’t…” she sighs. “I couldn’t trust my first amnio because the doctors were… I couldn’t trust them. And I couldn’t do a second one because I almost died the first time, and that’s probably what caused the abruption. But all the results are clear, Mulder. Every measurement, the timing, and my own body all say the same thing.”

He risks a peek between his fingers, afraid of what the answer might be. “Which is what?” He asks.

At that moment, the kettle screams from the stove, and Scully turns to pour the water into the mugs. With her back to him, she says, “This baby is completely normal and was conceived between the twenty-second and twenty-ninth of April.” She pauses a moment to let those dates sink in. He feels that sense of tingling again in his chest cavity, the surety that some enormous wave of agony and guilt is about to crash over him again. She carries the steaming mugs to the table and sets them down, lowers herself into the chair across from him. She looks him in the eyes, steely now with certainty. “Do you know what we were doing that last week in April?”

He watches her pained expression, the wet glass of her eyes. He chews on his bottom lip. He shakes his head, trying to recall that time Before.

“We’d spent two weeks on desk duty, because of your lungs. The beetles, remember?“ Her voice cracks on the question, and there’s such a sadness in how she looks at him: worry, maybe, that he doesn’t recall, that he’s forgotten what they were once. He remembers. “And then—“

“And then we flew to Los Angeles,” he says, realization creeping through him like icewater. Images come to him in quick succession:

Scully putting on earrings in front of a mirror. “Mulder, do you see my headband in that bag?” But he can’t look away because she’s in that dress and she’s so adorable, he wants to drag her back to the bed and forget about the premiere.

Her champagne-drunk giggle in the back of a limousine as her head falls against his shoulder.

Scenes from that terrible terrible movie: actors playing them badly, Skinner grinning at them from three rows ahead, so pleased with himself.

But mostly. Mostly it’s Scully: naked both under him and over him, kissing her way down his chest, her breathy “Oh god, Mulder” when he enters her and she squeezes his ribs with her knees, the noises she lets herself make when she’s had a little bit to drink. Scully, asleep in the morning sunshine, sprawled naked across the hotel bed. Scully eating room-service fruit while wrapped in a sheet. Scully smiling at him under a curtain of messy hair.

It crushes him: the memory and the realization. “That…” But he can’t even bring himself to say it. It’s too much. It would mean too much.

“That was the week this baby was conceived, Mulder.” She’s dunking her tea bag instead of looking at him, which is good because he feels something cracking apart inside him. His fingertips feel numb, but the rest of him is on fire, burning back to life with every beat of his heart. Her words are a building building wave of something that’s coming for him, that will take him out. “I don’t have an explanation,” she says. “And I don’t have proof, because I don’t have the baby’s DNA yet.” She squeezes the teabag and sets it aside. “But of course the baby is yours, Mulder. I can’t believe you would think…” She shakes her head and a sad almost-smile grazes her lips. “At first I couldn’t wait to tell you. I thought you’d be so happy. I imagined how we’d…” She takes a quick, hitching breath. “And then I learned you were gone. And after everything, when you finally knew…” She doesn’t need to say it.

The wave crashes, crashes over him and he’s rolled over and trampled. His face falls into his hands again. He hadn’t let himself think it. His stupid jokes about the pizza man… Mulder feels a great wracking sob split him in half. He shakes with it. He can’t stop. “Oh god, Scully,” he manages to whimper into his hands again, doubled over. They’d made this baby. His own child, and he’d resented her for it. And even if it weren’t his child, he had no right… He hears her chair slide back, and a few seconds later, feels her hands on his shoulders, but he cannot turn to her. Not after what he’s done. What he’s felt. What he’s failed to feel.

She rubs his back and the audacity of her comfort breaks him again. He can’t help it, he turns to her, buries his face in her sweater, between her breasts and over the swell of her belly. “It’s okay,” she whispers, but he can’t stop shaking. Her fingers move through his hair, and he feels her sigh with the contact. “Oh, Mulder,” she says, voice thick with something. His arms come around her waist as best they can. She holds him tight, and they stay like that for long minutes, his face against her belly, her arms around his shoulders and over his back, moving up and down and into his hair. The pain ebbs finally, and in its place flows something once familiar—something that soothes, that holds them together. Love, maybe. This is his Scully, he thinks. He can do this.

When he can speak, he says, “I’m so sorry, Scully,” muffled, into her sweater. He feels her sigh, feels her grip him tighter for a moment.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’re here. You came back. We’re all here.”

She brought him back, he thinks., because despite what she’s been through, she is always the strong one. “You’re too good for me,” he says, shaking his head. He kisses the fabric under his lips, then turns his face to rest his cheek on the soft swell. He feels a little shiver of movement. At first he thinks it’s her, but then realizes it’s the child moving, rolling or kicking or stretching its tiny limbs. He pulls back and looks at her. She touches his face, holds his jaw in her fingers.

“It’s alright,” she says. “Say something again,” she nods toward her belly.

Panic grips him. She wants him to say something to the baby. He feels… ill-equipped. What can he say? How could he possibly? He looks at her middle, and then at her face.

Scully must notice his panic because she shakes her head and steps back. Her hand falls from his cheek.

“Nevermind,” she says. “It’s okay.”

He’s losing his chance, he realizes. He feels it slipping away, and another kind of panic grips him. “No,” he says, and he pulls her back to him, places his lips smack on the roundest part of her belly and says, “Greetings from Earth.”

His words surprise her and she laughs. “Mulder—“

But it works and there’s another little shiver under his lips. Her laugh and the movement combined—they make him smile. There’s a bloom that other thing inside him. It’s a slow stream at first, an opening up, and then a full torrent of love spreading out into all his limbs from the center. This is what it’s like to feel again, he realizes. He brings his hands from her back to cup the rounded slope of her, to feel the gentle contour in as many places at once as he can with his own skin. “Earthling,” he says into the cotton, “I am your father.”

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Fics: Just Another Day on the Oil Rig by Vickie Moseley

Mulder spends most of this fic doggedly snapping and snarling in the corner over the villainous John Doggett. Scully and Skinner may be duped; but the more Mulder learns about Doggett's behavior (meeting Scully by blind-siding her, clogging up their investigations all those months, etc.) the more he steams and fumes.

A little trip to the Gulf of Mexico, some epically sarcastic inner monologue, and some reflection on Doggett's simple inquiries into why he does what he does gives Mulder pause; and enables him to hand over his beloved files without feeling like he's betrayed himself.

This, to me, is the BEST interpretation of Mulder during Vienen-- and also one of the best at capturing S8 Mulder's sardonic mood, tender heart, and revitalized (heh) perspective. Love it too much.

Quote:

""I notice the helicopter we're sitting in looks pretty stripped down and the crew is all military. When Scully calls out the troops, she means business.

"We made it," Doggett says, as if I couldn't deduce that one for myself. "

Yeah, I see that," I assure him. I cough up half a lung of water, stopping Doggett just before he slaps me on the back. "Would you kindly stop hitting me?" I ask politely when I can talk again.

"Sorry. For a minute I thought I'd hafta use CPR," he admits.

Not on this planet, I start to tell him but one of the crew members interrupts us.""

Just Another Day on the Oil Rig here

Vickie Moseley here (also: Ao3, Gossamer)

[leregirenga]

Mil sensaciones vienen a mi y es muy difícil olvidarte, dime como poder hacerlo si en cada rincón de mi cuerpo dejaste tatuado tu aroma y tus besos, basta un simple rose en mi piel para erizarla y reclamar tu presencia...

Kathy Liubof Maiá

[x-files-scripts]

The X-Files - “Vienen”

Written by Steven Maeda

January 22, 2001 (WHITE)

Alternate scene:

“Oh shiiiii �� ”

Alternate ending: Doggett offered his resignation in Mulder’s place...

[milarepas]

Willow was sent to kill one of the three royal sisters and end the curse for the entire kingdom. But she later realized there were no such demons to fight. Her beliefs were slowly shattered the moment the breath of a raven-haired girl with eyes as black as her dress brushed her lips.

Now, instead of blood, the village girl wanted something else, something that would make her feel impure.

Summary: A Kingdom that was cursed to spend all eternity under the moonlight the night the queen dies. The curse would fall when they hand over the hearts of the three sisters; nancy, holly and michelle. (Spoiler: the queen, in fact, dies)

[nrnjcstsnyms]

Primer dibujo de los pookies...