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crack_van2008-11-01 03:08 pm
threeguesses.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2008-11-01 03:08 pm
Entry tags:
Telephones by Cucumberspy (PG)
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threeguesses , and I'll be reccing The X-Files this month! [Insert witty driving metaphor here.]
Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Length: One-shot
Author on LJ: NA
Author Website: Grape Flavored Fiction
Why this must be read:
I love agnst done right, and Telephones is absolutely perfect. An AU that examines what, exactly, might have had to be done to bring the Consortium down. Cucumberspy says of her fic: "When I wrote this, I was so horrified at having written it that I didn't think I could ever post it" - the premise is just THAT dark, people. In the hands of another author this fic could have been over-the-top character torture, but Cucumberspy turns it into a quiet, haunting portrayal of grief.
William tosses his alien toy to the floor. Scully retrieves it, grit and dirty water matting the faceplate. She tucks it under her arm again.
"Mawn!" William shouts. "Mawn, ma!"
"Shh," Scully whispers, blinking again. "Shh."
No one else seems to notice, and Scully thinks of her mother's hands, cold on her shoulder blades, and of the look on Doggett's face in the war room.
Telephones
threeguesses , and I'll be reccing The X-Files this month! [Insert witty driving metaphor here.]Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Length: One-shot
Author on LJ: NA
Author Website: Grape Flavored Fiction
Why this must be read:
I love agnst done right, and Telephones is absolutely perfect. An AU that examines what, exactly, might have had to be done to bring the Consortium down. Cucumberspy says of her fic: "When I wrote this, I was so horrified at having written it that I didn't think I could ever post it" - the premise is just THAT dark, people. In the hands of another author this fic could have been over-the-top character torture, but Cucumberspy turns it into a quiet, haunting portrayal of grief.
William tosses his alien toy to the floor. Scully retrieves it, grit and dirty water matting the faceplate. She tucks it under her arm again.
"Mawn!" William shouts. "Mawn, ma!"
"Shh," Scully whispers, blinking again. "Shh."
No one else seems to notice, and Scully thinks of her mother's hands, cold on her shoulder blades, and of the look on Doggett's face in the war room.
Telephones