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randomfoggytiger · 1 month

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Curated agent-troi Fics

In honor of @agent-troi's birthday (that I missed-- so sorry!), here is a "favorite rereads" selection~.

Loose chronological order below~

Crossing Paths

“Uh…” the other woman struggled to get another piece of paper out, profusely thanking Diana when she offered to hold some of the folders. She finally took out a syllabus and glanced at it. “Fourth floor, room 451.”

“Oh.” Diana chuckled. “It’s supposed to be 415. They like to haze the new instructors sometimes this way, especially if they’re women. I guess they think it’s funny.” Of course, it had never happened to Diana, but she had the right people on her side. Or rather, she was on their side.

AU-- Pre-S1 Diana meets Scully on her transfer out, gives her some directions, and muses on a childhood Scully doesn't remember.

The MSR Files - Chapter 17

“I’ve been busy, Ethan,” she said as she stood up to dump the remains of her meal in the garbage, even though she was only half finished with her salad. She eyed Mulder pointedly, who looked deeply confused but did the same with his sandwich.

S1 Scully pretends Mulder is her boyfriend to get a very pushy Ethan Minette off her back.

The MSR Files - Chapter 4

“Oh.” Rob looked down at his plate, then back up at her. “You must really like that part of your job, huh?”

With some chagrin, Scully realized she had a huge grin plastered on her face. “It has its charms,” she said, trying to sound more casual even as she felt her face burning.

The Jersey Devil Scully is ecstatic that Mulder called her to conduct an autopsy the next morning.

When Toads Fly (Ao3)

“Christmas isn’t until next week, Mulder.” She set her coffee down on the desk and folded her arms. “Why is there a plastic toad with a rocket strapped to its back hanging from our ceiling?”

“First of all, it’s not a rocket, it’s a missile. And second… it’s a missile toad.” He paused to watch for her reaction and was rewarded with a blank look. “Get it, Scully? Missile. Toad. Mistletoe.”

Mulder hangs up a missile frog for Christmas; and Scully, realizing she'd hurt his feelings, walks back her comments.

Between Two Truths

“Yep, it’s a fake,” the tech said, not even trying to contain his glee. “Sorry, Spooky, but it looks like you lost this round. Maybe the little green men will let you take a mulligan.”

Mulder closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he spat out. “I’m gonna print out the enlargement myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” The tech snickered to himself as he walked away in the general direction of the break room, where he would no doubt proceed to gossip to his fellow geeks about the delusional Spooky Mulder’s latest misadventure.

E.B.E. Mulder is grateful that Scully, at least, doesn't mock his faked photograph.

Light in Dark Places

“Have you ever–”

Another pair of high beams pierced the night, steadily expanding until they filled the entire rear window. Scully cut herself off mid-sentence as she struggled to breathe. It’s not him, it’s not him–

Post Irresistible Mulder distracts Scully from her panic attack by crashing a conga line and sharing a motel room.

The MSR Files - Chapter 10

She knew exactly how voodoo worked, that most of its power resided in the mindset of the victim. If one truly didn’t believe a curse could actually harm them, or better yet, if they did not know they had been cursed at all, it would have absolutely no effect. Just as it should have had absolutely no effect on her.

Post Fresh Bones Scully is shaken that she'd believed in voodoo.

For the Truth

Mulder had passed out shortly after collapsing on her couch, sweaty and feverish. He didn't seem to be conscious or even aware of his surroundings, but occasionally he'd start tossing and turning, muttering about his father. At one point he started crying, and nothing was intelligible save the word 'sorry'.

Anasazi Hosteen sends out paramedics to meet Mulder and Scully halfway.

The MSR Files - Chapter 13

She narrowed her eyes as her lips curled upward in amusement. “Do you think it’s true what he said to you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” Mulder said hastily.

“Okay,” she snickered.

Post Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose Mulder hopes Scully will live forever.

The MSR Files - Chapter 16

When Scully had first made the comparison between him and Ahab, he’d been deeply confused, because he initially thought she meant her father. As she kept talking, he realized she was referring to the character, and he’d quickly become consumed by the need to not have to face directly the consequences of his actions on those he cared about, lest he be forced to let them go. To let her go.

But now, a stray thought occurred to him. He wasn’t a Freudian, but she had made the comparison.

Post Quagmire Mulder thinks over his inability to connect with his pets and the realization that Scully is, at the very least, attracted to him.

The Scully Dimension

“What if you could travel back in time?” Mulder asked Scully as they drove away from the biomedical research facility. “What would you change?”

Scully rolled her eyes. “Mulder–”

“Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Synchrony Mulder is horrified that he'd forgotten to factor in Samantha's abduction into his time travel musings.

The Lesser Potato (Ao3)

It was most unlike him to willingly hand a case over to the local authorities before it had been fully concluded; it was, however, what any typical agent would do in this situation. Perhaps Skinner ought to be grateful that Mulder was finally starting to toe the line.

And yet, somehow, he wasn’t.

Small Potatoes Skinner is unnerved that Mulder's usual British misspellings are absent from his latest report.

Blood and Water

“Mrs. Mulder?” Scully’s throat constricted, and her heart started hammering in her chest. “Is Mul– have you heard from Fox? Is he okay?”

“Well, I was just going to ask you the same question.” Teena’s voice sounded hesitant. “He left a very strange message on my answering machine, telling me I had nothing to apologize for and that we were both victims of– of someone, and that it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to outrun his demons after all.”

AU-- Post Demons Mulder withdraws into himself, collecting DNA off of CSM's cigarettes to answer the paternity question once and for all. The results, however, spiral him further into darkness.

The MSR Files - Chapter 20

“You were never going to take his deal, Mulder.”

“How can you possibly know that? Even I didn’t know that.”

Detour Mulder had fled, scared of Scully's advances; and later admits to almost taking the deal in Redux II.

Scientific Proof

Despite his leaving her behind, Scully had continued to work on his behalf... which he couldn't say about his former partner. Diana had ended up leaving him high and dry with her report full of obfuscation and deception, but Scully on the other hand had managed to uncover some startling revelations.

AU-- The Beginning Scully links DNA from the claw marks to the Erlenmeyer Flask... but the panel refuses to reopen the files, anyway.

Event Horizon

Even as it occurred to her that he must be inside his apartment by now, Mulder's words triggered another flash of memory....

"Your apartment's been redecorated, hasn't it?"

"Wha-- how did you know? Was it you?"

AU-- Dreamland II Scully remembers the excursion first; and Mulder confesses his new favorite color is red.

Mother Knows Best

“I’ve got it.” The woman behind Maggie in line bent down to pick it up and started to hand it to her, then paused as she took a closer look at the name on the card, furrowing her brow. “‘Scully’... you’re not related to Dana Scully, by any chance?”

Pre-Two Fathers Maggie meets Diana while shopping... and runs laps around her.

Eden (co-written with @baronessblixen and @katy-kt-katie)

“She gets to call you Fox, no big deal. But not me—never me.” She paced to her dining room table and smacked it with her hand; the quick shot of pain up her arm felt good; it felt encouraging.

AU-- Post One Son Scully, hurt, picks a fight over Diana's liberties with Mulder. Both crack each other open, apologize, and end each other's doubts rather swiftly.

Savvy as Her

“You owe me,” she insisted. “Dales was right. You wouldn’t have made it through that without me.”

“I might have.” Mulder put up a weak, insincere protest, but quickly gave in. They had both quite literally been through the wringer, and Scully had delivered a baby (for the first time!) with a gun to her head and parasitic worms in the ceiling. She deserved to be pampered after everything she had just been through.

Post Agua Mala Mulder and Scully both reconnect over food and a S2 abduction discussion.

Arcadian Rhythms

"Do you want me to stay?"

Scully's words took an inordinately long time to penetrate the fog of his musings, and even then he wasn't sure he heard her right. Slowly, he blinked and lifted his head to look into her eyes. "You mean, here?"

Arcadia Scully wakes Mulder from a nightmare.

Sweet Kisses (Ao3)

Right then and there he decided to stop messing around, that the risk of heartbreak or humiliation could not possibly outweigh the sheer agony of his life without her in it. To not have her by his side was unthinkable.

So it was that he found himself in a flower shop in Georgetown, looking for something that would convey an unambiguous message when coupled with a night of fine dining and a blanket of stars.

AU-- Post Milagro Mulder is ready for the next step... and sees Scully on a "date" with another man.

The MSR Files - Chapter 22

“I’ll double your pay, kid,” Mulder yelled back.

“Deal! Wait— aw, man!”

They turned their heads to see a green station wagon in the parking lot, a maybe sixtyish woman with Poorboy’s nose and cheekbones beckoning him with her finger as she honked the horn with her other hand.

Post The Unnatural Mulder is delighted by Scully's teasing; and both take things to the next level after the Poorboy goes home.

The MSR Files - Chapter 24

No one would listen to him, and he couldn’t seem to stop hearing everyone. He was surrounded by mental noise, and yet all alone.

Scully?

He tried to reach out for her, but caught only a bizarre glimpse of a half-buried ship in the sand, dark and foreboding as the waves crashed over it. The wreckage of alien progenitors, no longer alien to his mind.

The Sixth Extinction Mulder tries desperately to reach Scully's mind.

Hands-On Activities

Mulder was clearly happy to see her, even though they’d just spent less than ten hours apart, but there was a faint undercurrent of tension in his posture.

“Are you okay, Mulder?”

He shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “I’m fine, Scully.”

“It’s just that you didn’t even let me finish my sentence, and you– oh.” A realization hit her, along with a wave of chagrin. “Did you think I was in trouble?”

Post The Goldberg Variation Scully teaches Mulder how to fix his sink.

Some Assembly Required

Scully swatted him playfully with the instruction manual. “Need I remind you that you asked me to help you? You’re not even following the instructions—“

“Because they’re useless, Scully. Look at them! It’s all just pictures!” He stabbed a finger against the page in frustration.

Post The Goldberg Variation Scully helps Mulder assemble his new bed.

Your Hand Does Something To My Skin (Ao3)

He stepped closer, sliding his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She hummed in quiet contentment, and he felt his heart melt. “Scully…?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Post The Amazing Maleeni Mulder cannot, for the life of him, wheedle Scully's magic trick secrets from her.

Someone to Count On

"How can there possibly be so much of nothing?"

"Nothing?" Mulder continued to tease Scully as their rented Jeep Grand Cherokee sped down a dusty rural highway somewhere in... Scully had forgotten where, so mundane and repetitive was the scenery.... "This is the heartland of America, Scully, where all the hardworking farmers of these United States grow the crops and raise the beef that ends up on our dinner plates.

Post Orison Scully has another panic attack in the car curtesy of Pfaster's song.

The MSR Files - Chapter 27

He couldn’t understand, needed to understand, why his mother had done what she did. She called him, she wanted to explain… but why didn’t she wait? Why didn’t she even leave a note?

He knew what it was like to be overwhelmed by guilt, but he couldn’t help but resent her for making him guess, for not even giving him a reason.

Sein und Zeit Mulder is anguished that Scully gets answers beyond the grave while he never does.

Eight Nights - Chapter 6 (Ao3)

The boy from his dream appeared in his mind’s eye, sitting cross-legged on the floor as he spun the little top around.

Post Closure Mulder finds his childhood dreidel and menorah.

Where A Million Stars Catch Fire (Ao3)

“I’m sorry, Mulder. Is that why people call you Spooky?”

“Technically, this is why they call me Spooky–” Mulder gestured around at the basement office and all its UFO and cryptid-related paraphernalia. “–but my birthday certainly doesn’t help. Whichever of them first realized that October 13th, 1961 was a Friday must’ve had a field day.”

AU-- This Is Not Happening Scully remembers each of Mulder's birthdays while trying to save him on this one.

Love and Strife

“Can you stay?” she mumbled, blinking up at him through groggy eyes. “Make up for… having to cut our evening short.”

Mulder smiled and slid his wrist out of her hand to wrap his fingers around her own. “Sure you don’t want to wait for the pizza man?” he murmured back teasingly.

She rolled her eyes at him as she gave him a sleepy smile. “I would, but… you’ll have to do, I suppose.”

Empedocles Scully casually confirms the baby his Mulder's; then drops off to sleep mid-conversation.

Eight Nights - Chapter 8 (Ao3)

As if sensing his presence, she looked up at him. Her face and eyes were red from crying and the agony of the labor, but she was smiling. “Mulder, come look at him.”

He did, kneeling down beside her as they both gazed in awe at their newborn baby– their son. “Wow,” he whispered.

Existence Mulder followed the light and found his family.

Eight Nights - Chapter 3 (Ao3)

"When have I ever done anything the normal way, Scully?" Mulder set the menorah on the table and tousled William’s hair. "Besides, this is the Starship Enterprise– the Starship Menorahprise, if you will. Its eight-night mission: to boldly celebrate miracles where none have ever been celebrated before."

AU-- S9 Mulder and Scully are celebrating William's first Hanukkah.

Summer Love Doesn't Have to End

“You need me, Mulder, and we need you. You’re not going off half-cocked on your own ever again. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“I’m trying to protect you-”

“Well, stop that!” Scully put her hands on her hips in a familiar gesture of exasperation. “You need protection too, Mulder.”

AU-- Post Existence Scully refuses to let Mulder go into hiding alone.

The MSR Files - Chapter 28

“Fresh oranges here! Get your fresh oranges!” William bounded over to them with all the effusive, exuberant energy only an eleven-year-old boy (who also happened to have Fox Mulder’s blood running through his veins) could exhibit under these conditions.

Scully felt a pang of deep regret at this cruel and unnecessary theft of his childhood, and knew that someday (if there was even gonna be a someday) he would mourn its loss as well. But for now, as far as William Scully-Mulder was concerned, this was all just one grand adventure.

AU-- S9 Mulder, Scully, and William bunker underground with a Colonization resistance group.

A Place Like This

“We can’t hide this forever. He’s going to need to learn how to control his… powers.”

She spoke the last word in much the same way she used to say the word ‘aliens’ or ‘extraterrestrials’, but not for the same reasons. She was less afraid to believe now than she had been in the past, but now there were new things to fear.

Having a baby, especially a miraculous, possibly human-alien hybrid baby, had a way of radically shifting your priorities and preexisting beliefs. It was somehow easier to accept that William possessed psychokinetic abilities than to accept the danger they put him in from those that would do him harm.

AU-- S9 Mulder, Scully, and William go into hiding with TLG's help, raising Will as their own even if they aren't sure of his paternity.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #fic #Collector's Edition #Curate #agent-troi #AgentTroi #CaptainTroi #Happy Belated Birthday Friend~#xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf fanfic #xf fic

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blacklodgemusictx · 1 year

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Feeling Yourself Disintegrate

I don’t have what I would consider a fear of needles. I’m covered in tattoos. I am perfectly willing to sit serenely in one place and be stabbed hundreds of times in a row – it’s an asset. I deal with the repetitive psychological pain of doing my job every day the same way (civil service, amiright?)

IV placement is another matter altogether. I seem to attract phlebotomists who forget how veins work. Something about me says, “Dig under my skin, poke, jab, hurt me.” After each failed venous expedition, I’m left shaking. It’s almost like being cold: shivering, gasping, teeth clenching.

I take Ketamine infusions due to Major Depressive Disorder (Google it: there's evidence it makes old, dim synapses light up and start "talking" to each other again). 12/30/22 was my second Ketamine “booster” (after an initial series of six as close together as possible for maximum benefit, I am now taking infusions longer and longer apart trying to maintain the drug’s therapeutic benefit without being as dependent on frequency.)

This infusion was another bad stick. Please, I beg the kind woman who runs the clinic when the Vein Abuser is out of the room, please don’t let her poke me again. Please? Kind Lady has never missed the target. Her deft hand sinks the needle in place every time. No, she assured me. She will do it next time.

I am wrapped in a blanket, shoes off, feet reclined, giant noise cancelling headphone, padded sleep mask I bought off Amazon. Usually, I bring lip balm as I have a weird habit of smacking my lips pretty vigorously when down my K-hole. Today, my only focus is a small baggy of nausea candies and alcohol prep swabs – I saw a video on Facebook suggesting the quick inhalation of alcohol during a spell of nausea will sometimes help alleviate the symptoms. As of treatment seven, the Ketamine suddenly started making me violently sick.

I hate being nauseous. I won’t even resort to being coy: if you want my secrets, you don’t even have to torture me. Just spin me around in an office chair for half an hour ‘til I’m sea sick. No more, coppa, I’ll talk, I’ll talk!

The only reason I was willing to submit to getting sick again is the fact that I truly believe the Ketamine is working. I’ve been a slave to my depression since I was ten years old. Even though the Ketamine’s benefit so far has just been a kind of Flowers for Algernon effect (improvement that quickly wears off), the brief, clear windows of hopeful feeling have been indescribably beautiful.

(The only reason I am going in to this kind of detail instead of just saying, “Ketamine, it’s a thing I do. And then this other stuff happened” is because I know there are people out there stumbling in the darkness that is depression who want to know what it’s like.)

I never did drugs. People laughed at Bill Clinton when he said he smoked pot, but “did not inhale.” I feel you, Bubba, I could never really get the hang of it either. I was high maybe twice in high school. I’ve done Delta 8 since people swear by CDB and all it’s offshoots for pain relief (I have crippling back pain from degenerative disk disease and spinal arthritis). So I have a vague idea what getting “high” is, but tripping? No clue. I might drink once or twice a year. For the most part, my mind is one of the few things I truly possess (if just barely), I’ve never liked the idea of using substances that could potentially make me a stranger to my own inner self. I hate Delta 8, HATE it. It affects my ability to form short term memories. I refer to it as “roofie-ing” myself.

Acid, magic mushrooms? I had no frame of reference.

And if you don’t either, here’s exactly what it’s like: living in album covers for an hour.

I actual fed the prompt “Describing the cover of ‘Unknown Pleasures’ to someone who has never seen it before” in to my WONDER AI generator and got some pretty close representations of what I saw.

I was instructed before my first transfusion to just get on Spotify and look for “curated ketamine playlist” to listen to during my trip. I found the equivalent of “oooohhmmmm” bells and hippy, navel contemplation stuff. Nothing I read mentioned anything about the vital nature of having good music with you on your journey.

My first trip was a bad needle situation (they learned to give me Clonidine beforehand to get me to calm down enough to submit my arm without hyperventilating. The first experience being a painful one conditioned me to fear all future experiences there unfortunately. Like I said, Kind Lady has been just right with the needle, but the other lady who works there… no… not so much). I didn’t switch to my Ohhhmmm playlist. I left it on my Salim Nourallah playlist. Initially, I was just trying to calm myself, but once the IV was started, the trip happened so fast I was already falling before I realized.

This has made all the difference.

I related this to Kind Lady later and she said there was no way to tell. She knows a very quiet, unassuming gent (I swear she said he was a doctor or some sort of medical professional) that takes gangster rap on his trips.

My cousin is a Physician’s Assistant. She said she had seen people come out of Ketamine situations in emergency rooms (used to set bones and such) where people who were unprepared would flip out (have a bad trip.)

I, personally, have only had pleasant experiences (except for the recent bouts of nausea). You are responsible for setting the tone for your own experience. As someone whose depression has been a lifelong companion, my mind isn’t a bright or cheerful place per se, but I know myself. It’s been a relatively intuitive process. I don’t watch scary movies beforehand. I try to just be calm and collected. Stay peaceful. The limbic system doesn’t know the difference between watching/listening to emotionally fraught material or experiencing it so I try not to take chances.

Being accompanied in to my first trip by a familiar voice was so deeply comforting. Salim Nourallah is my favorite singer, but he also happens to be a dear friend and fantastic human being to boot.

Ketamine (again this is all purely subjective. Everyone’s experiences will be different) creates any level of dissociative experiences for the user. I don’t know if it’s just because I don’t have experience with “substances,” I but I disassociate… hard.

Complete dissolution of self. Out of body. Soaring. Flying. Falling. Colors.

Because music is so much part of my psychological make up, it’s sounds, colors and textures interpreted in musical context: album covers.

I have cried a lot. The feeling returns gradually to my fingers and toes, my eyes stop jittering in their sockets and reach up to feel my sleep mask is wet. The feeling/theme to all my trips has just been overwhelming gratitude. I feel so much love for those people I have in my life who continue to stand by me no matter how the darkness sometimes affects my mind.

Ketamine for me is half medical treatment, half vision quest. As I the chemicals wear off and I can feel myself again, I try to listen to anything I was told. Call it messages from the subconscious, whatever you want. I’ve come out wanting to reach out to certain people. I sent a message to someone else I knew of who has severe depression (a voice actor on a podcast I’ve listened to for years). He let me send him a care package of little, cheerful things. Another trip, I came out and message someone I used to think of as a friend who hadn’t spoken to me in 12+ years. I cast the missive out in to the digital sea not expecting anything back… but he responded.

I curated a special playlist of songs I wanted to “disintegrate to” and have emerged and tweaked it each trip. No song has tilted the trip to the negative, but I have taken one band off (who shall remain nameless) as – under the influence – the singer acquired super human powers of grating annoyance.

I am allowing myself Flaming Lips songs even though I have been estranged from my fandom in their regard for over a decade now. But you have to admit: for tripping, they are kind of perfect.

I return to Salim though. His voice is consistently silvery blue. “Miette” became so achingly beautiful I could barely stand it. There are not words to describe how meaningful it is it have the voice of a friend accompanying me in the darkness.

My playlist: