hello! I have a hankering for protective scully. Do you have any fic recommendations? Preferably against mulder's bullies?
Collector's Edition: Dana Scully, Partner and Protector
Couldn't include Bill Scully's bullying on this list because that's a category all its own; but tried my best to scrounge up fics specifically wired around your prompt.
Loose chronological order below~
Beshter’s X-files Seasons
"How was I supposed to know," he murmured in a low voice. "I mean, liver-eating mutants? Do you really still believe...?" She knew that his entire career at the FBI was flashing before Colton's eyes and that he was begging her to see the same reason he saw.
She glanced over at Mulder, who was now speaking with one of the other agents on the scene. "Well, Tom, if you had even considered the remote possibility that there might be something to Mulder's theory, I might still have a front door."
An in-depth fill-in from Scully’s perspective-- winding up to the Pilot and supplanting every loose end with a slice of her consciousness.
@leiascully's (Ao3) Squeeze
The other agents saw only gawky, crazy Mulder, the epitome of all they sought to avoid, dragging down one of their own. They liked Scully, or at least, liked what they could see of her, heedless of the depth of her. They invited her to work with them, as if the Bureau were a junior high microcosm of an adult world. Mulder, disgusted, played the fool. She slid her hand gently up his arm, gentling him with her touch. He was a rogue agent in their eyes. Scully was what kept him from lunging, fractious and unbalanced.
S1 Mulder takes in Scully, the first agent who views him as “more.” (Part of a larger series of ficlets.)
Solia (FFN) Smudge (FFN)
It was so not the time, but from the moment he rubbed his nose with his ink-stained fingers she felt the internal itch to wipe the dark smear away.
People were judging him harshly enough already. Their eyes bore into him like he was dirt; they said his name like it was unclean.
S1 Scully feels pressured to defend Mulder.
@contrivedcoincidences6/Spooky66/geektime66's Work Party
“Why aren’t you still up there? Still about a half hour left.”Mulder asks through a mouthful of cake.
Scully rolls her head back and stares at the ceiling, “I just wasn’t enjoying it. Figured I’d have more fun watching you get frosting on every surface in the basement. I’ve got my own little pool going about the most creative places I’ll be finding it for the next few days.”
S1 Mulder realizes Scully's reputation has been tarred with the same brush as his.
@suitablyaggrieved/ScullyLovesQueequeg's Fictober Day 10
“Sir, with all due respect… why can’t I have Scully back?”
“We’ve gone over this, Agent Mulder. We’re a little short on forensic pathologists. You’ll have Agent Scully back in no time. Now do you want to tell me why I’m getting several complaints that you’re making things down there a hostile environment?”
Post Little Green Men Mulder is alone.
Snits's Here, Now
"He's resting his ankle," Scully lied smoothly. A woman on her left, Laura, giggled suddenly, leaning into the conversation. "I saw him, hopping about earlier," she said wickedly, "how'd he do it?"
"Chasing ghosts," Jacobs supplied, provoking laughter. "Ruh-roh, Scully," a man across the table mimicked Scooby-Doo. "Nah, he probably just fell after the aliens let him off the space ship," another woman sniggered, reaching for the wine bottle. "Seriously, Scully, any time you want to be out of that nuthouse, you just mention it," the man beside Jacobs said solemnly, as though he were the voice of reason in the group.
Scully finally understands why Mulder never goes to FBI parties.
Philiater's The Stronger Monster
The strongest, that's what Mulder had said; the monster had taken the strongest of them.
For a moment that comment had dug at her a little bit; a part of her had automatically protested that *she* was strong. But she was a fish out of water in a deep forest.
Detour Scully is willing to be a monster for Mulder.
@starwalker42's (Ao3)
febuwhump day 23: "you'll have to go through me"
As the creature approaches him, creeping forward so slowly it’s almost like it’s biding its time, almost as if it’s enjoying toying with him, Mulder wonders how long it might take to bleed out from a bite wound. Maybe the pain will be strong enough that he won’t make it that long, anyway – maybe he’ll pass out before it gets to that point. Maybe those jaws will tear right through him, and he won’t feel anything but a flash of pain and the sensation of his body being ripped apart.
Bang! A cloud of dirt flies up into the wolf’s face, and it turns away, whining in surprise. After a moment of confusion, Mulder realises someone’s fired a gun.
Scully stares down a wolf.
Anonymous's (mulderscreek, annex-files) Silence, Sea and Sky
Dana Scully watched her partner closely but his face betrayed no emotion. If she didn't know him so well she wouldn't have noticed the tiny tremble of his hands, the dull look in his usually expressive eyes.
Mulder (and Scully) is invited onto a case where he has to work alongside an old VCU foe.
@o6666666's (Ao3) Phoebe takes a job at the fbi
“Mulder is incredibly passionate.”
“He’s myopic. Small-minded for anything that’s ever shown him tenderness.”
“I think he’s a genius.”
“Do you show him tenderness, Agent Scully?”
With that, Scully shoves her chair back from the table.
AU-- Phoebe Green is back, as an FBI agent.
@wendelah/wendelah1/avesuvianface’s (Gossamer, Live Journal) When light is put away
While Mulder stepped into his trousers, she walked over to the window and peered out through the shattered glass. "There's no sign of it—him—anywhere."
Mulder nodded. Whatever he was, man or monster, Pincus moved fast. He pulled a T-shirt over his head.
"This time—" Her voice was firm. "—I'm not leaving here without you."
Folie a Deux Mulder is rescued by one Dana Scully.
Dawn’s (Ao3, Gossamer) Broken (Ao3) and Restored
I turn around to face the now-thoroughly-irritated
officer. "Agent Mulder has been through quite an ordeal
tonight and is feeling under the weather. I'm taking him back
to the motel now. We'll come down to the station tomorrow
and you can finish asking your questions."
The kid can't be more than twenty-five, baby-faced and lacks
the self-assurance of Detective Webster. Still, he actually
scowls and opens his mouth to argue with me until I flash
him what Mulder refers to as "The Look."
Folie a Deux Scully and Mulder's thoughts after the bug flees and the cops show up.
Wylfcynne's Imagine
"You aren't getting free until we have a clear MRI," she said calmly.
Mulder exploded in rage, screaming, cursing, struggling violently. On the status monitor, everything began to escalate. Three Project doctors came running in, alerted by the system alarms, and stopped, awed at the violence they were witnessing.
Post S.R. 819 Mulder and Scully are captured while on a Kersh detail; and Scully must break out, somehow sound the alarm, and purge Mulder from a black oil invasion.
@baronessblixen's (Ao3) imagine some other agents playing a trick on Mulder
"I was getting coffee for us and then this one guy, Agent Peters, he said I didn't need to bother because, because," he stops, panic slipping back into his voice. Scully squeezes his hand to let him know she's here. "Because you were in a car accident and that... that you were... didn't look good." Tears fall from his eyes as he looks up at her. The way his bottom lip quivers breaks her heart.
Mulder rushes down to the basement, distraught.
Pattie's They Call Him AGENT Mulder
"I guess you're not too proud of me today, Scully. Sorry I reacted the way I did."
"Don't be sorry," I told him, as we got into the car. "He had it coming. It was a rotten thing for him to do to you."
S6 Mulder and the various methods of aggravation fellow FBI agents use.
LuminousPie's
Five Times Mulder Got Injured and One Time Scully Did
She looked up and frowned, debating whether to answer. She much preferred it when Diana didn’t speak. “I was just thinking about how many times Mulder has been in the hospital in the last 5 or so years.” She didn’t allude to her own ailments. She suspected Diana already knew.
Diana put down her magazine and crossed her arms, “Is it a lot?”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Mulder was never injured when I was with him.”
Various Mulder injuries through the years.
What Goes Up Must Come Down.
She whispers softly in his ear as she assesses him, “It's going to be okay Mulder, I’m right here.” She almost calls him ‘sweetheart’ but it’s not just Diana that stops her, it's the fact she also has to be a doctor now.
Mulder and Scully try to hide their secret relationship from Diana while all three are trapped in a malfunctioning elevator.
@seek-its-opposite (Ao3) nothing to hide (Ao3)
"Your irresponsible theories nearly got my officer killed, Agent Mulder.” The sergeant gestures at the crack house, the door splintered on the floor. “To say nothing of how my department looks on camera for taking you seriously.”
“But you did take him seriously.” Agent Scully’s voice sharpens to a stiletto point. Her partner absorbs chaos; she refracts it.
Post X-Cops Scully is incensed when the local cops lay blame at her partner's feet.
ScullyLikesScience's He is the Master of His Fate, She is the Captain of Her Soul
Mulder and Scully sat in their rental car in the parking lot of the Sheriff’s department. She sat, shaking her head. What a waste of a perfectly good weekend. He cleared his throat. “Okay, so he was actually crazy. For real crazy. Do you think the Phoenix bureau called me as a joke?”
Scully sighed, clicked one of the overhead lights, and opened the file on her lap.
Spanning from Amor Fati to IWTB, this series tracks the growth Mulder and Scully experience as they come into their own.
@neednottoneed/neednot's Unnamed
What she can't get over is the staring.
Mulder keeps tapping his fingers on the table. They sit across from each other, her foot occasionally brushing his, and it really does feel like everyone in the building is watching them.
Post all things Scully decides to hold Mulder's hand at the FBI.
@brenayla's (Ao3) midnight gold and moon shadows
Scully brushes past the group to get to the trash can, where she tosses a paper takeout coffee cup.
Agent Chang nods at her in greeting. “Agent Mulder,” he says with all the confidence of a recent Academy grad.
The being before him gives a wary look.
“It’s Scully, actually.” Not cold but certainly not friendly either.
Mulder and Scully, cryptids.
@mldrgrl's (Ao3) Tumblr drabble prompts of various shades of MSR
She heard laughter as she approached the door to the office. A cluster of agents surrounded Mulder’s desk with handfuls of files, laughing together. One of them was wearing a hat that was clearly not his own. Scully bristled. Her heels struck the ground with angry blows as she strode across the room.
“Take it off,” she said, holding her hand out to the agent with a withering glare.
S8 Scully will not stand for Mulder mockery in his absence.
Gina Rain/gina rain's Circular File
They were all assembled around the conference table. Creative bookkeeping couldn't solve some of the problems that appeared in the past year's budget. Explanations had to be given. Even Agent Scully had to attend to justify costs that were incurred during her time with the X-file division. She entered the conference room and some people stopped talking and looked up at her and then, with small smiles or sidelong glances, resumed their rapt attention of the closed files in front of them.
But Agent Scully did not sit down.
AU-- S9 Scully is having a hard time letting the FBI go (or, as she realizes, go without speaking her mind.)
@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys/Slippin' Mickeys's Three Part Harmony (Ao3)
“ --der ,” he heard, in what was unmistakably Scully’s voice. But he didn’t hear her voice with his ears, but rather in his head, where the buzzing was emanating. It was remarkably similar to when he could hear others’ thoughts, pushed into what bordered on madness by an alien craft. But this didn’t feel like lunacy; it was warm and euphoric.
“ Mulder, ” he heard again in Scully’s voice, this time more clear, the buzzing lessening. “ Is that you? ”
AU-- Mulder and Scully save their son while on the run; and the three of them continue perpetually forward with the FBI on their heels.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
@scenes-in-between/scullywolf's TXF: Scenes in Between (Tumblr)
One scene per episode: Mulder and Scully and the mysteries they encounter.
@cecilysass's (Ao3, Gossamer) The Boy on the Beach (Ao3)
Post Amor Fati Scully is trapped in the past-- and believes she can save Mulder's future by sacrificing her own.
Keleka’s Gray Ghosts
Post Theef– Mulder, Scully ,and TLG investigate the violent deaths of the 47th Brigade. As Mulder plunges headlong into the alternate dimension of a vengeful demon (undeterred by his earlier proposal and recent injury at the hands of a possessed soldier), Scully grapples with her faith in religion, her father, and her military-- all of which comes to a head when she witnesses a cathedral full of praying ghosts.
Jenna Tooms/misslucyjane’s (Ao3, mulderscreek)
An Acceptable Level of Happiness (Site)
AU-- Post Requiem Scully is helping Mulder adjust to a world post-trauma. Fatherhood may be a breeze, but ptsd, triggers, and others' judgments are not.
Shooting Star (Gossamer, mulderscreek)
AU-- Post Requiem Mulder is returned to "his angel" seventeen years later, waking to an addled brain, clone confusion, and a distant son.
And last but not least: long-form fic series spanning the first nine seasons of the show.
Ya no te quiero a como solía hacerlo… tuve expectativas demasiado altas acerca de ti, de lo que estaba pasando y de nuestra posible relación. Y cuando decidiste apartarte, simplemente caíste en picada y todo cambio.
❀ Prompt #12: Dowdy || Read it w/ notes on AO3 here ❀
It wasn’t exactly Aelia’s idea of enjoyable, but she would manage through the evening. She would mingle with other young women and men of high society and dance and curtsy until the last bells of the evening tolled, all to please her parents and perform the duties expected of her as the daughter of a noble house. She wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but she would at least pretend to enjoy herself if nothing else.
Truth be told, she disliked the way people in the upper circles of Garlean society interacted with one another. It was all so fake and fabricated, and hardly anything ever felt genuine. Watching her parents and older sisters partake in the social performances had always been bad enough, but now that she had come of an age where she was expected to do so more and more herself, well… One could say she began to loathe her family’s place in the political and social spheres.
And now here she stands in one of the Imperial Palace’s grand ballrooms, shoulder to shoulder with many other youths of her standing all dressed to the nines. The sounds of string music lilt through the air, providing a background to the chatter and the clinking of glasses and heeled shoes on marble floors. Gatherings like these were almost always entirely about affirming one’s standing within the social hierarchy and forming beneficial connections with others in one’s sphere, and she knew her parents were sitting at home just hoping that she’d meet some handsome gentleman her age who would sweep her off her feet and offer an advantageous match for their family.
If she had her way, she’d have run off to be an adventurer or a mercenary or enlisted in the military as a medicus or some such. The boring and disingenuous lifestyle of playing housewife to a man who was more like a business partner than a husband and being a stay-at-home mother hardly appealed to her in the slightest, though she knew that such was, depressingly, her inescapable fate.
“Aelia, look!”
The voice of her childhood friend, Valentina, breaks her out of her thoughts, and she quickly looks up from the drink in her hand that she’d been unconsciously staring into and turns her head toward the direction in which the other woman is pointing. “It’s him!” Valentina whispers.
Her eyes land upon the figure in question, tracking him as he weaves through the crowd across the ballroom floor flanked by several guards. It’s hard to get a good look at him from here, but there’s no mistaking that it is indeed the Emperor—the host of this grand event himself. It felt almost surreal to be in the same room as someone so essentially mythicized as he was, almost as though she hadn’t been expecting him to actually be a real person, a real face behind the illustrious reputation and name of Emperor Solus zos Galvus. For all that her family held some degree of influence in politics, she herself had never even come close to being in the same room as the Emperor, much less attended an event hosted by the man in his own palace.
Valentina grumbles in frustration as she bobbles about on her tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd. “It’s impossible to see anything from here… Come on, let’s move a little closer.” She grabs Aelia by the wrist and is immediately met with resistance.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Aelia asks cautiously, hesitantly looking back and forth from her friend to the small crowd that has formed on the other side of the room. “He already appears to be getting quite swarmed from the looks of it…”
“Oh, come on,” Valentina tugs her again, urging her forward. “We won’t get that close. Just close enough.” When Aelia still hesitates, she raises a brow and adds, “What, don’t tell me you’re shy…?”
“Absolutely not!” Aelia frowns at her friend’s teasing smirk, shaking her head defiantly. “Fine. But just a little closer. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, yes?”
This response seems to please Valentina, who happily pulls a sighing Aelia across the ballroom floor a bit closer to where the Emperor stands presently engaged in vapid chatter and greetings with a small crowd of guests. The young men clamored to be acknowledged by him, and the young women did so twice as much. This was supposed to be a sort of coming of age celebration for the newest generation of Garlean nobles, so it made sense that those in attendance would be trying their best to be seen. But Aelia still thought it a bit hard to watch the way they’d throw themselves at him so shamelessly.
From this new vantage point, she can see much more of him. He’s tall, and good looking, and he carries a regal and commanding sort of presence clad in his many layers of military regalia and furs. He couldn’t be much more than four or five years older than she herself, yet he carried himself with the weariness and weight of a man who had been ruler for decades. His tired aurum eyes suddenly flick up and lock with hers, and Aelia quickly sinks back down into the crowd.
“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Valentina chuckles, breaking her out of her head for a moment.
“I suppose so.” Aelia replies indifferently, though her heart is pounding just from the simple act of locking eyes with him from across the room. She sees the look on Valentina’s face and instantly knows that she must be visibly blushing, her body betraying her words. What even was that? All from a simple look? Had she simply been starstruck just like the rest of them? Perhaps it was just the effect he had on everyone…
“My lady? Excuse me,” A voice rises above the rest of the noise, and both Aelia and Valentina look back up to see none other than the Emperor himself weaving his way towards them. They both freeze in place, the crowd around them parting to make way for His Radiance as he moves toward the intended recipient of his attention.
Solus comes to a stop right in front of Aelia, smiling down at her and giving her a friendly nod. “Good evening, I could not help but notice your striking presence from afar.” He says, bending slightly to gently take one of her hands and press his lips to the back of it, eliciting a collective hushed gasp of surprise from the room around them. “What is your name, my dear?”
Aelia has the sudden urge to pinch herself from what must certainly be a dream, her mind going blank from just how abruptly everything was happening in this moment. She blinks, staring up at him wordlessly for a moment before she finally finds her voice and forces herself to speak. “My name is Aelia, Your Radiance. Aelia goe Olearius.”
“Aelia… I see. An apt name for a lovely woman with an even lovelier soul.” Solus smiles, relishing in the way she blushes and how she seems to be just as captivated by him as he is by her. There is hardly any mistaking it up this close—he’d know the color of her soul anywhere. Inside this crowded ballroom hers shone like a beacon, all others looking exceptionally dull by comparison. Even her eyes are the same; the striking blue hue that had captivated him thus all those millennia ago served to draw him in just the same now.
As the two are locked in their own little moment, murmurs and hushed whispers of surprise and annoyance from the envious women in attendance spread around the room like fire. “Who is she?” One hisses, “What’s so special about a senator’s daughter who can’t even be bothered to make a proper impression?” “Who in their right mind shows up to the Emperor’s ball looking so dowdy? Would it have killed her to put in a bit of effort?”
Several snicker amongst themselves, poking fun at Aelia’s relatively “plain” choice in dress given the occasion. She was by no means wearing rags—her dress was made from rich silks and her hair and makeup had been done by her handmaiden—but compared to the incredibly gaudy and flashy dresses and hairdos worn by many of the women here hoping to show off and be noticed, her ensemble was relatively lowkey.
Suddenly painfully aware once again that they are surrounded by others, Emet-Selch feels a tinge of annoyance rising in his chest but keeps it from showing outwardly. Ignoring the rather strong urge to simply grab her and run away with her to a far more private location away from the rabble, he clears his throat and offers her his hand.
“Would you care to come with me? We can move to a slightly less populated area so that we may be able to speak a bit easier. I shall have another drink fetched for you, as well.” He smiles, hoping and praying that she feels the same pull that he does and that she will indulge him in this.
Aelia looks over to Valentina who gives her a reassuring smile and a nod of encouragement, stepping back and retreating into the crowd to give the two of them space, though not before giving her best friend one last glance and a wink. As Valentina melts into the sea of partygoers, Aelia turns back to the Emperor and nods, taking his offered hand.
Thrilled, Emet-Selch smiles triumphantly as he leads her across the floor toward the much less crowded fringes of the room, the sea of people parting respectfully for them as his guards flank the two of them. They move unhindered in what is essentially a little bubble that floats effortlessly out of the crowd. This night was turning out to be far more fortuitous than he’d ever imagined. He’d found her, here in Garlemald of all places—and he’d be damned if he let some halfman here swoop in and try to take what was rightfully his. Fractured as it was now, her soul still bore a tiny, almost indiscernible speck of the essence of his own soul. It was small, but it was there. That meant that at least Hydaelyn and the sundering hadn’t broken their bond; that much was still intact and he was pleased. Seeing it drove something possessive within him and all he wanted to do was whisk her away and claim her like he should.
But he knows that he’s going to have to play the long and agonizingly slow game here. So instead, for now at least, he takes her over to a significantly less busy spot at the edge of the room, one where they aren’t standing in the very middle of a sea of gawking onlookers, and orders a servant to fetch her another glass of her preferred drink as well as a drink for himself. As they stand and make light conversation, he is suddenly struck with an incredibly vivid memory of one of the Convocation’s New Years’ celebrations that had taken place not long after she had taken office as Azem. It had been the night that he—encouraged by Hythlodaeus of course—had finally confessed the true depth of his feelings to her.
How much simpler things were then.
“So, I take it you are the daughter of Senator Olearius?” Solus asks, more for the sake of conversation than true curiosity. He already knew the answer, for her family name was rather prominent among the cabinet and in the political sphere at large. Aelia nods.
“Yes, Your Radiance. Well, I am his youngest, anyway. One of three daughters.” She answers. The servant from before reapproaches them with a tray and hands them each their drinks, and she takes hers with a polite smile and a word of thanks. Aelia raises the glass to her lips, hoping a second drink will take some off the edge off for her poor pounding heart which feels primed to burst from her chest at any moment.
Solus chuckles softly, “Please, no need to retain the stiff honorifics. ‘Solus’ is fine.” He says, giving her a lopsided grin that makes her insides flutter. She nods sheepishly after a beat, and he seems pleased enough with her apparent acquiescence to move on. “So you have sisters, then. How lucky I am that you were the one they sent to me tonight.”
Aelia finds herself blushing furiously, almost in disbelief that this conversation was even happening. What did he see in her? Were his words genuine or empty flattery much like the typical Garlean noble was keen to engage in? Perhaps he sought to get on her good side to get to her father, but what good would that truly do him? He was Emperor after all, he didn’t need to go around buttering up the members of his cabinet to get his way. But then what reason did he have for approaching her specifically? Was it possible that it was simply genuine interest?
“Your- er, Solus, I must confess, I-”
She gasps as someone bumps shoulders with her and something cold and soft suddenly touches the front of her dress. Upon looking down to inspect herself she sees that some kind of pastry has been smushed against her chest and now sits at her feet in crumbled pieces, its icing having come off on her dress and left a big messy yellowish stain at the point of impact.
“Oh my! I’m so very sorry!” The woman who had bumped into her exclaims loudly, as though more for show than actual apology. “I didn’t see you there. I am afraid I can be awfully clumsy sometimes!” She says, holding a glass of red wine in one hand and a now-empty plate in the other.
Aelia quickly glances back up at her and gives her a reassuring smile. “No, it’s alright! Don’t worry about it.” She shakes her head, trying to wave it off. The woman gives her a faux-sympathetic pout in return, leaning in closer to whisper so that only Aelia can hear:
“I’d try to clean it for you, but my hands are full and that dowdy old dress needs to go, anyway. You’re welcome.”
Aelia’s smile drops as the woman slips back into her act and walks away with another faux apology, and this isn’t lost on Emet-Selch who has been watching the entire exchange with barely-concealed annoyance. The woman may think herself a good actor, but he can tell an act of spite when he sees one—her muddied soul is practically churning with envy.
