#donnie is more a catalyst. it's more about the things he causes

[qoldenskies]

Canary Continuity Raph and Donnie just have a special place in my heart...nothing can beat them. My babies :']

i think cc b team are my favorite just because i love the more silly dynamic they settle into but mannnn nothing beats the tragedy of raph and donnie's relationship,, everything about them just hurts so bad. limitless things to say about those two. ESPECIALLY how raph was the only one that loved him til the very end in CL especially. i think of that so often

[chiscribbs]

Apocalypse Future Donnie Concepts

I wasn't actually planning on posting these until I had a definitive final design to share alongside them, but- It's probably going to be a while before that happens and I feel bad for how inactive this blog has been lately. I've been working on stuff, but only in-between projects, and none of it is really ready to post. So, here's a little something to prove that I am still alive. ❤

Donnie's design is so hard to update. It's just...so good in its simplicity??? Every element feels necessary to his character - so figuring out what to keep, what to get rid of, and what to change slightly is a definite challenge. It's even harder when we're given so little (canonical) information about what role he played in the Resistance and what effects the Krang Apocalypse may have had on him...including how long ago he was killed in relation to the movie. Or how he was killed, for that matter.

So, I'm playing around with some potential ideas and trying to get something that feels right - feels like Donnie, but if he had to adapt to the apocalypse (while also trying to stick to the show's simplistic, shape-heavy style, so nothing too terribly detailed or complex.) I'll share a few of these ideas below, for anyone who's interested.

(Also, yes - I know the spot-goatee is in no way an original concept, but I have a deep affection for it and had to include it in my design.)

One of the concepts I'm considering is giving Donnie a prosthetic leg, something to sort of parallel Leo with his Robo-Raph arm. But in Donnie's case, he probably lost his leg long before Raph was killed or maybe even before he built the robots of his family (maybe this serves as the inspiration or catalyst for the idea.) My working theory is that he was attempting to detonate a mine field full of some Krang dogs and something went wrong which caused him to get caught up in the resulting blast. He was lucky enough to keep his life, but lost his leg and probably some of his hearing in the process. Naturally, because it's Donnie (and because they're living through an apocalypse), the leg will be more than just a prosthetic limb - it'll have some kind of weaponry or technological capabilities built into it. Just haven't decided what that's going to be yet, lol.

I'm also toying with the idea of him creating some kind of "Ninpo Protection Device" - something to act as a defense mechanism against the Krang's mystic-cancelling (or, more accurately, locking) abilities. He's testing it on himself before green-lighting it to be used on his brothers (which, obviously, never happens.) The problem is I can't decide how to visibly convey this idea, I was thinking something along the lines of one of those medical aid devices that become permanent attachments to the user's body. But most of the visible parts of his body are covered in natural armor, save for his limbs and head. So figuring out the best placement for a thing like that has been a little challenging.

I was considering giving him a mechanical hand along with/in place of the robotic leg, as well. Reason being - he works primarily with his hands and almost never wears practical protection gear (another thing I tried to partially remedy with the addition of the gloves), so if any part of him is going to be lost, his hands would be the logical first choice. I also think there's a poetic element to the guy who relies on his tech becoming more and more "mechanical" himself (but only in the physical sense). It would also imply that there was a time when he couldn't work as efficiently on his own as he normally is able to, due to having one less hand, so there was likely an adjustment period wherein he had to lean into his mystic abilities (and the aid of others around him) far more than he's used to doing. A little background character development for him, because I love that kind of stuff.

These are about all of the definitive concepts I have for him at the moment, but obviously, I'm nowhere near having a finished design just yet. So, all of these could potentially be scrapped or tweaked in the final version.

If you read this far - kudos! And thanks for your interest! :>

[thedawningofthehour]

You've said before that at some point Draxum went from just wanting Donnie to build him weapons to actually caring for him, can you pinpoint the exact moment when Draxum was like "oh this boy is my son I have a child now"?

An exact point? No, probably not. If there was a singular moment where Draxum accepted that he's Dad now it would have happened off-screen, probably while he brooded in front of his fireplace or something. Or possibly Huginn and Muninn implied it. ("Here, go buy whatever for his room to make it look like he's lived here. He likes Atomic Lass." "Bruh.")

I mean, the affection started growing right away. You can see where Draxum's 'tough unfeeling scientist' façade chips away when he's faced with the realities of what he's doing-he backs off when he realizes that his questions are making Donnie feel violated, he feels bad that he caused Donnie discomfort by overlooking his own knowledge about his body and assuming he needed an external heat source to maintain his body temperature. He also touches Donnie affectionately a lot more as time goes on and uses less brusque language with him, calling him 'my boy' instead of just 'boy' and things like that. It was probably a gradual slope, making little changes to his plans like deciding that Donnie could be allowed some teenager things and that maybe he didn't need to be so stiffly obedient. And then at some point he just decided it would be easier to have Donnie consider him his father instead of his master. Only because he would do better work if he was happy and mentally healthy, of course. That's what Draxum tells himself.

I'd say that the point where this happened was probably somewhere between Donnie's sections in chapters 8 and 14. There's a noticeable divide there where Draxum moves from acknowledging Splinter as Donnie's father to discrediting him in chapter 11, and finally outright saying that Splinter is not his father in chapter 14. There was a point where Donnie called Splints Dad and Draxum got jealous. That was probably a big catalyst for everything else.

And then there's a whole 'nother layer to this when you consider that Draxum views Galois as his true son, not Donnie.

[grizzlyofthesea]

Mushy Personal Emotion Turtles

So, as you can tell, I absolutely adore the Rise iterations of the turtles and April. I'd like to take this time to expound on just how much they mean to me, though.

The Mad Dogs' significance to me ties into my sibling relationships. I only have one biological brother, but I could make a case for there being two sibling figures in my life--my brother, and one of my cousins who may as well have been an older sister to me. My histories with both of them are rocky.

My brother has been part of my life for as long as I can remember; he's only a year younger than me. I've spent nearly all that time bickering with him and sometimes getting into more intense fights. It was at its worst when he was about 10 to 16 years old, so when I was about 11 to 17. We're doing better now. I think we've learned to appreciate each other's company more since we've both gone off to college. But having such a negative force in my life for so long was...not fun, to say the least.

Then there's my cousin. We used to play together all the time. When we were old enough to set up our own email addresses, we emailed each other basically all day, every day. It was fun at first, but something turned our relationship toxic. I'm still not quite sure what the catalyst was. She cut off contact with me after a particularly brutal argument, and I did not cope with it well at the time. At all. This happened during an already difficult time in my life, so I was a total mess. I'm doing better now, but it's not perfect. Family gatherings where I see her are still awkward even though this happened several years ago. I want things to go back to how they were, even though I know it was terrible for my mental health. It's awful. Every time I think I'm over it, I break down crying whenever the topic comes up.

In summary, even though I've always had at least one sibling figure present in my life, my relationships with them have almost always had some sort of strain on them.

This is where the turtles come in.

Seeing the turtles just...be brothers, with April as basically their sister, really struck a chord with me. I really wanted that in my life. For once, I just wanted to have a nice, normal, relaxed sibling relationship. Do they have silly arguments sometimes? Yeah. Do they have some major disagreements? Of course. But they always stand up for each other in the end. They never get into fistfights with the intent to seriously hurt each other. They never intentionally ignore each other's achievements. They love each other to the core.

I started joking with my friends that I'd "adopted" the turtles and April as my siblings, but then I decided to take it just a bit further. For fun, I did some tarot readings to determine what my relationships with them would be if they were my siblings.

First, I checked to see if they'd even accept me as a sibling. My deck has you draw three cards for a yes or no reading; the answer depends on how many "no" cards you draw. All three cards I drew indicated "yes." :)

Then, I drew individual cards for each unique sibling bond.

April: Queen of Swords

Indicates strength and resilience. I took this to mean a close, trusting bond.

Raph: Three of Cups

Represents comfort and fun. I feel like he'd be my "big little brother," protecting me just like the others even though I'm older than him.

Leo: The Hanged Man

Symbolizes uncertainty and limbo. It isn't a lost cause, but there would be the least trust between us.

Donnie: Seven of Pentacles

Stands for dedication and potential. We'd be loyal as all heck to each other, and we may even enble each other to excel.

Mikey: Nine of Cups

Represents support and love. We'd hang out a lot and get each other through tough times.

Are any of you weirdos like me who get way too attached to fictional characters? (I mean that in the kindest way possible.) Feel free to share your thoughts.

Thank you for coming to my Turtle Talk.

[brokaw22]

Fic: Bitter Jealousy

ff.net

Title: Bitter Jealousy Author: Brokaw22/Dragonprincess1988 Rating: T Story Synopsis: After another fight with Leo, Raph discovers some things about himself that he wishes he hadn’t.

He was in his room throwing any item within reach at the wall. The anger was all-consuming and for once he knew exactly why. He couldn’t scream. Hell, he could barely breathe with the heavy lump in his throat. His chest burned with the need to release every last bit of pain and anger that coursed through him, and yet all he could do was silently rage and destroy things.

 He didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours since he first stomped up into his room, frustrated tears flowing from his eyes. Honestly, at this point, Raph didn’t care. He just hoped that his brothers and sensei knew enough to stay clear of him for however long it took for this particular fit to die down.

 He refused to call it a tantrum, no matter how accurate that might have been. That was their word for it, and it certainly didn’t help anything. In fact, all it did was infuriate him more. He felt so much all of the time, and yet they never saw it. They didn’t care, and why would they? Raph knew he was just a stupid hothead to them. He was just the guy who felt nothing but rage to them, despite how inaccurate that assumption may have been.

 He felt so much hurt all of the time, and they never saw a damn thing. All they saw was his fucking tantrums, as they tend to call them. It wasn’t a damn tantrum. Stopping himself from hurting himself, them, or anyone else that may have crossed his path by going to his room and hurtling everything he could touch against the wall wasn’t a tantrum.

 It was a fucking breakdown, and Raph wondered when, if ever, one of them would finally realize that. He had a breaking point and they had long since reached it. He desperately wanted help, but he had no way to ask for it. Every time that Raph had ever done so before ended with exactly zero useful suggestions.

 It didn’t use to be like this. Raph was nearly positive that it didn’t use to be like this. He could vaguely remember a time when he hadn’t constantly felt like this. It was distant and sometimes he wondered if it was just a dream, but he was fairly certain that he remembered less pain, less rage, and more…well, just more of everything else.

 Raph wasn’t necessarily sure that he remembered true happiness, but he did remember moments of joy. Hell, sometimes he even had moments of happiness now, but those moments were so few and far between that Raph was honestly starting to wonder if they ever really existed in the first place. Especially when he looked at the rest of his family and they just seemed so fucking happy all of the time.

 He watched Mikey sometimes when he was laughing, jumping, and dancing around all jovial and excited, and Raph couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever like that. He didn’t think so. He knew he certainly had never been that energetic about it if he was ever that happy. After all, no one could compare to Mikey when it came to sheer excited energy.

 If Raph was being honest with himself, sometimes he was so damn jealous of Mikey. He desperately wanted to know what it was like to feel like that…to be that exuberant and blithe about seemingly nothing. However, Raph knew that there was no way he could ever reach anything even close to Mikey’s level.

 Sometimes that knowledge downright killed him. In fact, it was one of the reasons that Mikey’s enthusiasm sometimes irritated him so much. Raph knew that it was wrong to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. He equally knew that he shouldn’t dampen Mikey’s cheerfulness just because it caused him pain, but Raph never really was that great of a brother, anyway.

 It wasn’t just Mikey, though. Donnie’s bright smile and utter pride when he invented something new and amazing were just as heart-wrenching to witness for him. After all, Raph knew that he’d never be able to accomplish anything as amazing as his brother. He knew that he’d never do anything worth the level of pride that Donnie both felt and received for his inventions.

 After all, all Raph could do was hurt and destroy. He wasn’t meant for building or creating… not like his brother, who was gifted with the ability to both mend and construct amazing things. Raph’s body and mind were better suited to causing injury and demolishing things, not fixing them. He was well aware that Donnie deserved every ounce of credit and pride heaped upon his shoulders. However, knowing that didn’t stop Raph from feeling so utterly inadequate when compared to his genius brother.

 And then there was Leo, the brother who caused him the most anguish out of all of them. Leo was the one who was most like him, and yet, somehow, always managed to be better than him. Leo was the only one who Raph could ever hope to match. After all, Leo wasn’t a metaphorical ball of sunshine, nor was he a genius. No, instead his talents existed in the only area that Raph had ever truly excelled at --fighting -- and yet, still, even in that arena, Raph fell short.

 He spent so long wondering why… so long missing the key factor of what exactly made Leo better than him. And now after years of seemingly endless arguments and countless hours of frustration, pain, and confusion, Raph was certain that he finally figured it out. He finally realized what made Leo so damn perfect.

 It wasn’t Leo’s tactical brilliance, his spiritual prowess, his mastery of his weapons, or even his mastery of his emotions. No, even though Raph believed it to be all of these things at one point or another, he now knew better. He had finally learned the truth.

 The one thing that truly separated Raph from Leo was that Leo had always and would always have someone who believed in and validated him. Meanwhile, Raph had never truly had anyone who believed in and validated him. Not when it really counted, at least.

 Honestly, Raph would have found that funny if it didn’t hurt so fucking much. He should have realized the truth long before today, but it makes sense that he needed a catalyst to show him reality. After all, Raph never was one of the smarter brothers. The catalyst, of course, was the stupid fight between Leo and him, which drove Raph to seek refuge in his room in the first place.

 XYZXYZ

 It had started like every other fight, but it sure as hell didn’t end the same way. Raph saw it. The moment that signified that Leo was quickly reaching the end of his rope, and Raph knew that if he pushed him, then Leo would lose it.

 He knew now that he should have backed off. Hell, a part of him wanted to back off, but there was another part… a darker part of Raph that didn’t care. He wanted to see Leo lose it in front of everyone. He wanted Leo to feel how he always felt. He wanted Leo to have the whole family look at him the way that they always looked at Raph, but that wasn’t what happened.

 Leo lost it alright. He leapt at Raph, hitting him full force, with no regard to the fact that Raph’s left side was already one giant bruise from their earlier fight with some crazed mutant. Leo was screaming at him, but for the life of him, Raph couldn’t register what he said.

 He just remembered thinking that for the first time everyone would see that it wasn’t just Raph with the insanely bad temper. However, instead of someone ripping Leo off of him and asking their big brother what was wrong with him in the most accusatory tone they could muster, Donnie simply put a hand on Leo’s shoulder before gently asking if their big brother was okay and what the problem was. His tone was full of utter concern and the whole interaction just made Raph sick to his stomach.

 Raph never had anyone ask what the real problem was. At least, not like that. Everyone always had something to say about his angry outbursts, yet no one had ever bothered to inquire about why they existed in the first place.

 Hell, no one had even bothered to consider if Raph’s fits were about something more… something deeper than just being annoyed with the world at large and taking it out on his family. Although, Raph figured that was his fault. Well, at least, they’ve always claimed that it was his fault since he never really volunteered that information.

 Even so, Raph didn’t have any idea why they would expect him to volunteer such information. After all, every time he ever exhibited any emotion, it was considered a bad thing. Not to mention, their responses were always the same. It was just a bunch of mocking taunts, belittling questions, or utterly ignoring the real problem.

 Raph figured he should just accept that this was his life. He was just going to watch everyone around him feel things that he didn’t even remember how to feel, and then let the bitter, angry jealousy seethe within him until it finally exploded outward. He should just accept that after such an outburst he’d have to deal with the snarky comments and various disappointed glares for simply being himself.

 He wished that they understood that if he could be someone else, then he would. However, Raph only knew how to be himself… no matter how little anyone approved of it. He didn’t like it. He didn’t enjoy the constant rage, bitterness, and jealousy, but it was who he was and it wasn’t as if any of them had any useful suggestions for being something more… something different… something better.

 Raph was under no illusion. He knew exactly how much he didn’t measure up, but there was nothing that he could do about that, either. At least, nothing that he was willing to do because as much as he knew it was probably for the best if he just left, he was a selfish bastard who refused to give up the only home and family that he’d ever known, even if all it did was hurt them. After all, Raph never claimed to be a good brother.

 He knew his family deserved better than him… better than this angry, bitter, jealous monster that they were forced to reside with, but he didn’t have a solution. The worst part about all of this was that he knew they didn’t have one either. Master Splinter and Leo could lecture and force him to mediate all that they wanted to, but it didn’t help. It didn’t change what Raph was, and it certainly didn’t stop all of his negative feelings. If anything, it made everything worse.

 As for Donnie and Mikey, while they might be able to provide a distraction for a time, it still didn’t change the fact that eventually, they would all end up right back where they had started. Raph was utterly exhausted with the same endless routine and he had a feeling that so was the rest of his family. He needed a way out… a way to change things, but he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that he was smart enough to find the answer on his own.

 XYZXYZ

 Raph stood in his room, surrounded by the debris of everything that he had destroyed, breathing heavy. He took a moment to let the rest of his emotions die down before beginning the lengthy process of cleaning up the mess. After he had cleared everything away, Raph thought about what to do next. He didn’t really want to deal with Master Splinter or Leo right now, and he didn’t think that Mikey’s peppiness would improve his mood any. However, there was one brother who might be able to help him find a solution to his problem.

 Raph slipped out of his room and quickly made his way to Donnie’s lab. There was a part of him that worried that the only solution was leaving his family in peace, but he also had a feeling that it’d be easier to take that step if someone else voiced it, especially if it was their resident genius. Still, he didn’t actually believe he was ready to hear it said out loud, but he didn’t see any reason to avoid the inevitable, either.

 Raph ducked into Donnie’s lab, making certain that no one spotted him. He was relieved to find Donnie sitting in front of his computer alone. “Hey, Don, you got a minute?”

 Donnie immediately spun around to face. “Why?”

 He didn’t seem more irritated than usual at being interrupted, so Raph chose to take a step closer. “I just wanted to talk to ya.”

 Donnie’s eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his plastron. “I’m not the brother you need to apologize to, Raph.”

 Raph tried his best not to flinch at Donnie’s tone as he squared his shoulders and glared. “I never said anything about apologizin’, Don.”

 Donnie rolled his eyes as he scoffed out an, “Of course, fine, what do you want, Raph?”

 Raph shook his head and began backing away. He knew better than to expect any help. He knew that from the start, so why did he even bother to come here? Why did he even think for a second that it was worth trying? “This was a mistake... just like me.” The last part was hissed out between clenched teeth as Raph turned away.

 However, he didn’t get far before Donnie flipped over his head, and was blocking his exit with both his body and his bo staff. “What was that?”

 Raph practically skidded to a halt in front of him. The last thing that he wanted right now was another confrontation with another brother. After all, he already knew how that would end, and he was dealing with enough as it was. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the garage entrance; if he was fast he could probably make it there before Donnie, then again, if Donnie had something more pressing to save, he’d let Raph go without a second thought.

 Raph didn’t need to think twice about his decision. He grabbed one of his sais out of his belt, backflipped onto Donnie’s desk, and grabbed his laptop. He threw the computer across the room in the opposite direction of the garage, at the same time that he threw his sai at the switch for the garage door.

 Donnie let out a distressed noise at seeing his laptop soar through the air, and he didn’t even hesitate to run to catch it. Raph knew that he wouldn’t, and it gave him just enough time to leap off of Donnie’s desk and dash toward the door. He grabbed his sai along the way, making sure to jam the door controls. He slid underneath the rapidly closing door.

 Raph considered taking one of the vehicles, but he knew that Donnie could track all of them, and all Raph wanted to do right now was disappear. He exited the garage and made it topside, hitting the rooftops as soon as he was able and just kept running, never looking back. He wasn’t sure where he was going, nor did he know when, or even if, he would return, but right now it was imperative that he was as far away from his family as he could get.

 After all, there was no doubt in Raph’s mind that it was what was best for all of them, even if his family didn’t necessarily understand that yet. They would in time. He was certain of it.

 The End

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 21 January 2019

Quick Bits:

Aquaman #44 continues “Unspoken Water” from Kelly Sue DeConnick, Robson Rocha, Daniel Henriques, Sunny Gho, and Clayton Cowles. This story feels a lot like some of the ‘80s DC reimaginings that came on the heels of Crisis on Infinite Earths, playing with the mythology in a new way while approaching the narrative from oblique angles. Definitely an interesting revelation about the people on the island. Rocha, Henriques, and Gho are probably doing some of the best art of their careers.

| Published by DC Comics

Avengers #13 gives us the origin of the 1 million BC Iron Fist from Jason Aaron, Andrea Sorrentino, Justin Ponsor, Erick Arciniega, and Cory Petit. The artwork from Sorrentino, Ponsor, and Arciniega is gorgeous, capturing some of the feel that David Aja brought to K’un-Lun in The Immortal Iron Fist.

| Published by Marvel

Batman #63 continues to attempt to break your brain as “Knightmares” continues with Mikel Janín and Jordie Bellaire joining Tom King and Clayton Cowles for the fun. This one gives another possible explanation for what’s going on as John Constantine warns Bruce and Selina of what’s going to happen in their domestic bliss.

| Published by DC Comics

Blossoms 666 #1 is kind of a slow-burn opener, intent on easing the reader into the surprises of this type of horror, which somewhat works against the back cover blurb and solicitation copy, but eh. Still, some great character work from Cullen Bunn building Cheryl and Jason. And the artwork from Lauren Braga and Matt Herms is perfect.

| Published by Archie Comics / Archie Horror

Cover #5 kind of sets us up for a conclusion next issue. Kind of. It’s more character building, anecdotes from comics conventions, and exploration of the art form through various means that has elevated the series from the beginning from Brian Michael Bendis, David Mack, Michael Avon Oeming, Zu Orzu, and Carlos Mangual. The Ninja Sword comic sequences this issue are particularly great.

| Published by DC Comics / Jinxworld

The Curse of Brimstone Annual #1 offers three stories, one focusing on Brimstone and two fleshing out adversaries Detritus and Wandering Jack. Great art throughout from Mike Perkins, Neil Edwards, John Stanisci, Denys Cowan, Donald Hudson, and Rain Beredo.

| Published by DC Comics

Crypt of Shadows #1 is one of the one-shot revivals of old titles for Marvel’s 80th anniversary from Al Ewing, Garry Brown, Stephen Green, Djibril Morissette-Pham, Chris O’Halloran, and Travis Lanham. It’s pretty great, presenting two short stories embedded in a framing narrative, reminiscent of the old horror anthologies.

| Published by Marvel

Die!Die!Die! #7 is more balls to the wall action and insanity from Robert Kirkman, Scott Gimple, Chris Burnham, Nathan Fairbairn, and Rus Wooton. It’s the battle between Lipshitz and Barnaby that has been building for a while now and, well, it’s violent, bloody, and brutal as you’d expect. Also, cats.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Freedom Fighters #2 is mostly some vague teasers of things to come and one giant, flashy fight sequence, but it’s an entertaining fight sequence. The art from Eddy Barrows, Eber Ferreira, and Adriano Lucas really get to do the heavy lifting in this story and it shines.

| Published by DC Comics

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #2 proves that the first issue wasn’t a fluke, with Tom Taylor, Juann Cabal, Nolan Woodard, and Travis Lanham providing another highly entertaining, very funny, beautifully illustrated story. Taylor captures Peter’s voice incredibly well.

| Published by Marvel

Go-Bots #3 jumps a bit in the narrative, with a team of astronauts aboard Spay-C discovering Gobotron, where a decidedly authoritarian Leader-1 is taking some draconian measures to keep the Guardians in line, while still fending off Cy-Kill and his minions. Tom Scioli keeps us off-balance a bit for what’s going on and it adds a nice tension to the story. Also, the locking mechanism for the prison cell is a nice touch of nostalgia.

| Published by IDW

Guardians of the Galaxy #1 is a great debut from Donny Cates, Geoff Shaw, Marte Gracia, and Cory Petit, setting up a new post-Infinity Wars Marvel cosmic standard. There’s a good deal of action and humour through this as Thanos’ wake leads to many of the cosmic “heroes” pledging a path to an odd bloodbath--with a large amount of Earth-based heroes as possible targets--and a heist of his body by the Black Order (who’ve also stolen Knowhere) before anything can get underway. This is probably one of the stranger “gathering of the team” stories, but it gets it out of the way in a fascinating manner to hit the ground running next issue. The art from Shaw and Gracia is suitably epic.

| Published by Marvel

Hardcore #2 has some very nice art from Alessandro Vitti and Adriano Lucas, as Drake finds he has his hands full with both Markus trying to fully take over the Hardcore program and the criminal organization he was trying to take down being on to him. Both trying to kill him. Lots of entertaining action in this one.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Hellboy and the BPRD: 1956 #3 brings up some interesting history questions for the Bureau and certain locations we already know about, as Mike Mignola and Chris Roberson’s script continues to dovetail some already existing knowledge of history.

| Published by Dark Horse

High Heaven #5 conclude season one of this series as well, leaving David exactly where he wished to be, but finding out it’s not necessarily what it’s cracked up to be. Tom Peyer, Greg Scott, Andy Troy, and Rob Steen have really been delivering a bitingly funny take on the afterlife here. Also another fun Hashtag: Danger short from Peyer and Chris Giarrusso. I’m glad that this one is going to be graduating to its own feature for Ahoy’s second wave of books. And the issue is rounded out by the usual prose stories and text pieces.

| Published by Ahoy

Immortal Hulk #12 is a tough one. Even as Hulk travels deeper into the heart of Hell and Al Ewing continues to wax philosophical in the narration about the nature of evil and the concept of the devil or an opposite to god in comparative religions, we get a hard look at Bruce’s upbringing and the abuse that he suffered at the hands of his father. It’s a difficult read as his father tries to justify his abusive actions, but it’s one hell of a character study. Great guest art on the flashbacks from Eric Nguyen to complement the main story’s art from regulars Joe Bennett and Ruy José, with colours from Paul Mounts. It’s astonishing the heights that this run is hitting, one of the best Marvel is publishing.

| Published by Marvel

Justice League #16 concludes “Escape from Hawkworld” from Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, Jim Cheung, Stephen Segovia, Mark Morales, Tomeu Morey, Wil Quintana, and Tom Napolitano. It’s very much a lore dump, with the Martian Keep telling J’onn about the multiverse before and of Perpetua, along with some interesting and complicated other revelations, but it’s rather interesting.

| Published by DC Comics

Livewire #2 sees Amanda captured, beaten, and mutilated by mercenary bigots at the behest of the US government to figure out a new way to control and neuter psiots. It’s always interesting that these people think they’re doing the “right thing” to justify their genocide. Very impressive artwork from Raúl Allén and Patricia Martín as always. Allén and Martín‘s choices for layouts, colours, even panel-styles lead to some very interesting visual storytelling.

| Published by Valiant

Low Road West #5 concludes the series, but leaves enough doors open for more somewhere down the line. This has been a very strange series, starting as a kind of post-America future and then tossing in some alternate reality weird western body horror stuff out there. All throughout with some inventive and unique artwork from Flaviano and Miquel Muerto.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Man Without Fear #4 presents us with the bedside manner of Kingpin from Jed MacKay, Paolo Villanelli, Andres Mossa, and Clayton Cowles. I really like Villanelli’s art here, which seems to be channelling the spirit of Chris Samnee.

| Published by Marvel

Naomi #1 is an incredibly beautiful comic. Jamal Campbell has really gone out of his way to craft a gorgeous first issue, perfectly balancing the ordinary, everyday people of Port Oswego, Oregon and the disruption caused by the superheroics of Superman bouncing through in a battle with Mongul. Brian Michael Bendis, David F. Walker, Campbell, and Josh Reed have something interesting here, working at the fringes of the DC Universe from the perspective of ordinary people, and ordinary people not living in a Metropolis or Gotham at that.

| Published by DC Comics / Wonder Comics

Oliver #1 is an amazing debut from Gary Whitta, Darick Robertson, Diego Rodriguez, and Simon Bowland. It’s worth it alone just for Robertson and Rodriguez’s extremely beautiful, detailed artwork, bringing to life a bombed out, desolate London in stunning detail, but then the story hooks you. There’s a mystery to Oliver’s identity and lineage that pulls you in and the development of a society of an unwanted class of disposable clone soldiers is very compelling.

| Published by Image

Pearl #6 is a very interesting conclusion to the first arc from Brian Michael Bendis, Michael Gaydos, and Joshua Reed. Great bits of comedy throughout what is otherwise a fairly heavy issue. Stunning artwork from Michael Gaydos.

| Published by DC Comics / Jinxworld

Quincredible #3 continues to build the world around Quin, as well as showing him learning through action, and finding out the complications of living in a fairly tight knit community where everyone knows everyone. The predicament that Rodney Barnes, Selina Espiritu, Kelly Fitzpatrick, and Tom Napolitano leave us in is compelling and really develops well through the narrative.

| Published by Lion Forge / Roar / Catalyst Prime

The Spider King: Frostbite continues Hrolf’s adventures, now trying to cleanse the world of any remaining alien presence, in this one shot. The main story is a fun tale taking on another brand of infected creatures from the mini-series team of Josh Vann, Simon D’Armini, Adrian Bloch, and Chas! Pangburn. There’s also a back-up starring Sigrid taking no bullshit from Vann, Pangburn, and art by Daniel Irizarri.

| Published by IDW

Superior Spider-Man #2 is essentially an issue-long fight between Terrax and Octavius, but it’s rather entertaining, from Christos Gage, Mike Hawthorne, Wade von Grawbadger, Victor Olazaba, Jordie Bellaire, and Clayton Cowles. The artwork is incredible throughout and there are some humorous cameos.

| Published by Marvel

Teen Titans #26 is the first of this series I’ve picked up, largely since in a few months it will be crossing over with Deathstroke, and it’s not bad. It seems intertwined with Red Hood (another title I’m not reading), but all of the necessary information seems to be being provided in the story, giving no problems with narrative flow. Adam Glass adds some very nice humour in the dialogue that keeps things snappy. The art from Bernard Chang and Marcelo Maiolo also nicely captures a youthful vibe.

| Published by DC Comics

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #90 begins to pick up the pieces from the EPF’s assault on Burnow Island, as well as weaving in the bits and pieces from the recent macro-series, as the Turtles and the Mutanimals hold a wake for Slash. Great art from Michael Dialynas and Ronda Pattison.

| Published by IDW

X-O Manowar #23 begins “Hero” from Matt Kindt, Tomás Giorello, Diego Rodriguez, and Dave Sharpe. It’s largely set-up,--bringing back the bounty hunters who assaulted Aric previously, showing off Kate’s new ship in action against said bounty hunters, and then Aric wondering how he pees in the suit--, but it’s damn entertaining. Also, Giorello and Rodriguez practically put on a clinic for visual storytelling.

| Published by Valiant

Other Highlights: American Carnage #3, The Avant-Guards #1, The Beauty #26, Buffy the Vampire Slayer #1, Cloak & Dagger: Negative Exposure #2, DuckTales #17, Exorsisters #4, GI Joe: A Real American Hero - Silent Option #3, Grumble #3, Jim Henson’s Beneath the Dark Crystal #6, Kaijumax: Season 4 #4, Lightstep #3, Lucifer #4, Mars Attacks #4, Monstress #19, Outcast #38, Regression #15, Rise of the TMNT #4, Road of the Dead: Highway to Hell #3, Shuri #4, StarCraft: Soldiers #1, Star Trek: The Next Generation - Terra Incognita #6, Star Wars #60, Sukeban Turbo #3, War is Hell #1, The Witcher: Of Flesh & Flame #2

Recommended Collections: Battlepug Compugdium, Black Panther - Book 6: The Intergalactic Empire of Wakanda Pt. 1, Cosmic Ghost Rider: Baby Thanos Must Die, Coyotes - Volume 2, Daredevil - Volume 8: The Death of Daredevil, Jughead: The Hunger - Volume 2, Marvel Two-in-One - Volume 2: Next of Kin, Polar - Volume 1: Came from the Cold, The Problem of Susan & Other Stories, Proxima Centauri, X-O Manowar - Volume 6: Agent

d. emerson eddy did not eat the last piece of cherry pie. It was the cats, they’re trying to frame him.

[nexusbeingmoved]

WANDA AND: MENTAL ILLNESS

i’ve mentioned before that wanda has (3) mental illnesses: depression, ptsd, and undifferentiated schizophrenia. i’m going to be specifically talking about her schizophrenia, which has not been Canonically Stated but given patterns of behavior in her throughout the comics, i find to be highly likely. 

****first and foremost i want to say: schizophrenia has NEVER caused her to commit any sort of crime or atrocity. she is not more or less dangerous to others because of it. in fact, she is more likely to hurt herself than other people. the only thing that has ever caused her to do ‘bad things’ is the elder-god that plays puppet-master over her entire life.

so, her schizophrenia went UNTREATED for a long time, during which she went through various and intense bouts of psychosis. during that time, it was indeed something she struggle with on a daily basis. it wasn’t that she was always hearing voices in her head telling her to do bad things, she’s not donnie darko or any other example of cinematic schizophrenia that looks only to exploit symptoms of an illness in order to demonize them. it’s more nuanced than that. maybe she saw something in the corner of the room that wasn’t there. maybe she was convinced that someone she saw on the street was actually a friend from long ago. maybe she felt that her friends and family suddenly no longer loved her. she often reacted to things seemingly irrationally, but for her --- the reactions were completely rational. she didn’t UNDERSTAND why she saw and felt and understood things differently than other people. she lives in an altered reality in that she interprets reality differently than those around her, making her feel ostracized or vulnerable when people treat her as ‘crazy’ because of it.

her schizophrenia made her feel like an outcast. i think, at the end of the day, vision only worsened that feeling for her. while they originally fell in love in part due to the fact that they were both a bit different, as a synthetic being, he could never fully understand the way her brain worked. he couldn’t understand her on a good day and he definitely couldn’t understand her on a bad day. to him, she should be able to just turn it off. obviously, that’s not how it works. it gave her very low self-esteem. she felt wrong, somehow, and was constantly feeling the need to apologize even though she knew she couldn’t control any of these things about her.

i saw it put like this and i just want to insert the passage here because i find it really enlightening to wanda’s mentality:

You know that feeling you get when stressed, when you see a bunch of weird coincidences and you speculate at the cause? Imagine you can't turn that off, but you know the answers you get aren't realistic - which also throws into doubt your ability to see patterns in what is happening.

Its almost like renouncing a religion if you get bad enough. You know it isn't true but on some emotional level you still feel it, even though you have to crush it way down inside you because its based on fantasy not in fact - and its incredibly persuasive, even alluring or addictive to fall back on the old model because it makes you feel like you can see the world's problems or maybe even have a shot at actually changing them.

while she does experience episodes positive symptoms (positive as in unseen in ‘healthy’ people, not ‘good’ --- such as auditory and visual hallucinations), more of her schizophrenia shows itself in negative symptoms (that disrupt normal behaviors) such as: social withdrawal, anhedonia, apathy. she’s introverted by nature and her MI latches onto this. she doesn’t really have a social life --- she works and works and works and then spends most (if any) of her free time, alone. sometimes she gets stuck in the grey area of emotion, where she simply can’t feel what she knows she should be feeling.

the medication, while it mutes psychosis, keeps her in a state of stillness. she becomes catatonic. she dissociates, often watching her life pass her but being unable to feel any of it happen. sometimes she feels like her whole life is something akin to being stuck in really thick mud.

her depression keeps her in the mud as well. while her schizophrenia will make her apathetic, depression will keep her immovable and inconsolable. she feels absolutely nothing and yet everything at the same time. hopelessness eats at her. self-hatred comes in unstoppable waves. she won’t leave the bed for days, she stops cleaning, she forgets to eat, she forgets to shower. she overreacts about small things, she won’t return phone calls, she’s gone months without any meaningful human interaction.

her ptsd lends it’s hand in things like dissociation. nightmares. lashing out. she’s still learning to cope with all the awful, scary things that have happened to her and that she has been a part of. the original catalyst for her ptsd was the shocking and traumatic memory of her children’s deaths, which for her feels VERY recent. since then, with the events of di/sassembled and HoM and the emotional trauma she lived THERE as well still very vivid in her mind, she hasn’t had much time to heal.

[mldrgrl]

Suddenly

by: mldrgrl Rated: R Summary:  A sequel to Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down. Post-all things, Scully finally catches up to Mulder.  Spoilers for pretty much half of season 6 and 7, but if you haven’t caught up by now, why are you here?

Trust Mulder to tell Scully he was in love with her one minute and then turn around and run off with Diana Fowley in the next.  It stung.  Badly.  Not just that he’d trusted Fowley over her, but that he’d accused her of letting her personal feelings cloud her judgment.  It was a long time before she could forgive him of that.  

She never doubted the sincerity of his confession, but the desertion and the accusation that came so quickly later threatened to dismantle both their personal and professional relationship.  The trust that had been so hard won between them became all but lost overnight.

Whether he knew it or not, Mulder, it seemed to her, turned to outside sources to fill the space she once filled.  His random, late night phone calls stopped, and she assumed it was due to the tension between them, and it probably was, but when she found out about his friendship with Karin Berquist, it made sense to her.  She could see that Mulder and Karin were lonely, kindred spirits, even if he could not.  It pained her to think of him like that, and it became the catalyst of her desire to see them once again on better terms.

Progress was still slow.  He had that same look in his eyes when she’d nearly had her heart torn out of her chest on his living room floor as he did when she’d been shot in the gut.  And though he held her while she cried and she had to reassure him many times that she was fine, the usual overt gestures weren’t there.  He didn’t offer to stay with her, he didn’t ask if she was sleeping okay, he didn’t even crack a joke about it.

Then he had confused her by coaxing her out late one evening to play baseball.  It was the happiest she’d seen him in a long time.  He was relaxed and it made her relaxed as well.  He made her laugh and just for a few hours, everything felt right again.  Not long after that, the return of Diana Fowley changed everything again.

This time around, Mulder’s life was on the line.  While Scully was fighting for it on the other side of the world, the woman she had come to loathe and distrust had actually sacrificed herself to save him.  That was difficult for Scully to reconcile.  She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Fowley was an enemy to their cause, but the duplicitous woman had come through in the end, and it was hard to hold such malice when her actions had helped to rescue Mulder.  She had to have known it would cost her her life, and she did it anyway.

While Scully struggled with the aftermath, Mulder seemed to find some sort of peace he’d never had before.  He seemed lighter to her.  He kissed her at midnight on the new year, not the kiss of a man in love, but a kiss of a best friend to another.  She wondered if he still had feelings for her.

The lightness didn’t last, but it never seemed to last.  Donnie Pfaster broke out of prison and brought up all her old anxieties from years past.  She wanted to turn to Mulder after that case, but she didn’t.  She kept it bottled inside, locked tight in her chest where no one could get to it.  And then Mulder’s mother had died.

The barriers Scully had erected crumbled under the weight of Mulder’s grief.  She suddenly knew what Mulder had meant when he’d said that her pain was his pain.  She’d felt every one of his breathless sobs against her shoulder as though they were her own.  And it wasn’t as though she thought very highly of Teena Mulder, but the emotional outpouring it caused from her partner was heartbreaking.  She loved him fiercely and protectively in that moment.  Thinking about it in hindsight, it was probably the turning point for her.

Of course, just when things are moving in the right direction for them, they had to fall backwards.  And no one could cause a rift between them like CGB Spender could.  She still believes she made the right decision, with the facts she had at hand, to take up the mission alone.  But, that look of unbelievable disappointment in Mulder’s eyes was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to face.

She expected there to be more consequence to her weekend with Cancerman, but to her surprise, aside from one, painful and animosity-filled evening spent arguing about what she’d done, Mulder hadn’t brought it up again.  Not once.  It didn’t stop her from walking on eggshells around him, though she really had no reason to do so.  She got angry with herself for feeling so unnecessarily ashamed, and her annoyance came to a head when Mulder asked her to go to England with him.

Had he been snide or unforgiving, she would’ve had an excuse for her aggravation with him, but he wasn’t, and that was the most aggravating thing of all.  She needed a weekend away from him to recalibrate herself.  Little did she know, Daniel Waterston would re-enter her life and it would never be the same again.

In a semi-conscious doze on Mulder’s couch, she thought back over the last year since she’d been shot, since Mulder had told her he was in love with her.  She’d just had a very sleepy conversation with Mulder about choice and fate and all the paths one could take, or not take, and it seemed to her that A had led to B, had led to C, and so on, and now she was here.

She stood up and rolled the stiffness out of her back and neck.  The scratchy Navajo blanket Mulder had draped over her fell to the floor and she picked it up and hugged it against her chest.  She could smell him on it and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  She stayed that way for a few more moments and then she placed the blanket back on the couch and crept toward his room with a sense of purpose.

Mulder was asleep, which surprised her.  She didn’t think he ever slept.  His lamp was on, and a book lay open on his bare chest, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was slack.  Her heart skipped a beat.  The floor creaked as she moved closer and he opened his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, stretching his legs under his sheets and moving his arms with a little bit of disorientation.  The book fell from his chest and he pushed it aside as he sat up a little further up his pillow.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”  She hovered at the foot of his bed, just looking at him.  She didn’t know how it could have taken her so long to really see him, but it was all so clear to her now.

“Are you leaving?”

“I got cold.”

“I gave you a blanket.”

“I know.”  She smiled a little and then shrugged off her blazer and laid it on his dresser.

“I don’t think that’s gonna help,” he said, raising his brows a little.

“I think someone told me once that crawling naked into a sleeping bag with someone else who’s already naked is the best way to generate body heat.”

Mulder glanced up at the window.  A light Spring rain tapped steadily against the pane, almost imperceptibly.  “Did it rain sleeping bags while I was asleep?”

“It might have.”  She untucked her shirt from her skirt as she walked around to his side of the bed.  He sat up fully and then reached for her hand, which she gave him, and sat down beside him, her hip pressing gently against his thigh.  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and then let go to reach up and tuck her hair back over her ear.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” she answered, leaning across his lap to press her hand down on the other side of his hip.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Wow.”

She smiled and her hand came up to touch his chest.  Her fingers moved lightly across his sternum and then her palm came to rest just over his heart.  He looked at her questioningly and she cocked her head as he did in answer.

“What’s happening?” he asked.  A small rumble of thunder replied before she did.

“Do you remember Holman Hardt and Sheila Fontaine?” she asked.

“Kroner, Kansas.  Are you trying to tell me you’ve developed the ability to control the weather?”

She smiled and shook her head while her thumb stroked an arc over his heart.

“All I ask is that you not drop any cows on me,” he said.

“Sheila had doubts about her feelings for Holman.  She only thought of him as her friend, her best friend.”

“And Holman thought of her as the love of his life.”

She nodded and stared at his chest for a few moments.  “I told her that the best relationships are often rooted in friendship.  That sometimes, a switch gets flicked somewhere and the person who was just a friend, is suddenly the only person you could see yourself with.”

“Her switch was certainly flicked.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you believe that?”

“I did.  I do.”  She looked up at him and nodded.  “I think a switch has been flicked in me, and I want to know if yours is still on.”

“Just call me the Motel 6.”

She tipped her head in question and he gave her a cheeky grin.

“I’ll leave the light on for you,” he said.

She chuckled and dropped her head.  He rubbed the back of her shoulder and arm until she looked up again.  Her eyes moved over his face, taking in his sleepy gaze and pouty lips and late night stubble.  She took her hand off his chest and touched his cheek.  He covered her hand with his and looked into her eyes.

“Do you think you’re here by choice or by fate?” he asked.

“It really doesn’t matter,” she answered.  “It could be that I was led here, but where I want to be is here, right now, with you.”

“Really?”

“Mulder, quit being such a skeptic.”  She smiled coyly so that he could see the humor in her eyes.

“Who are you and what have you done with Dana Scully?”

She didn't answer, simply let her gaze continue to move across his face and settle on his mouth.  Her thumb moved slowly across his cheek and then over the curve of his upper lip.  He moved a hand to the back of her neck and slid his fingers up through her hair.  

“I'm going to kiss you,” he said.  “Really, really kiss you.  How do you feel about that?”

“Shut up, Mulder,” she whispered.

He smiled as he drew her face closer to his. “There you are.”

The closer he pulled her, the more fully she came to rest against his chest.  Her hand slid back over his ear as their lips touched and he wrapped his free arm around her.  She relaxed and let him hold her up, tilting her head at just the right angle so she was nearly lying in his arms.  She opened her mouth in invitation and he took it without hesitation.

Her eyes had nearly slipped shut in the moment of their kiss, but she kept them open just to see his face.  She wanted to know what he looked like at that precise moment.  He looked sleepy and peaceful, but the way he tightened his arms and pillaged her mouth was anything but.  All the passion was there that the New Year’s kiss had lacked, and then some.  He kissed her so deeply she felt it in her toes.

He broke from her and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing raggedly.  He kept his steady grip on the back of her head, but his other hand roamed her back in long strokes.  She stroked the shell of his ear and took his breath into her lungs.  She wanted more and yet she was content to just stay there and breathe him in for the rest of the night.

As much as she wanted to stay, her position was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.  Her back was twisted slightly towards him and she had one foot pressed to the floor to keep her hip from sliding off the side of the bed.  It was less than ideal.  Reluctantly, she started to pull away from him and his arms slackened.  His eyes opened and she could see the disappointment written on his face.  She placed a quick kiss on his lips to reassure him as she stood.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, and to prove it, she pulled her shirt up and over her head.  She felt fortunate to have chosen a black bra and panty set that morning, all lace and satin.  She knew Mulder wouldn’t care if she was wearing a burlap sack at the moment, but she was still glad to have something appealing to reveal.

Swiftly, Mulder pulled his sheets back and swung his legs over the side of the bed to face her.  He put his hands on her hips and moved her a step closer as he looked up at her.  She nudged his knees apart with hers and stepped between his legs.

“I just want to make sure you’re not going to walk out of here in the morning and think to yourself, ‘what have I done?’,” he said.

“I won’t think that.  Will you?”

“God, no.”

“Well, all right, then.”  She brushed his hand aside from her left hip and unzipped her skirt.  He slid his hands higher up on her waist as the skirt fell and she kicked it aside.  The only enticing way to remove her stockings was to have him do it, so she bent her knee slightly and pushed her thigh forward toward him.

Mulder raised his brows and she raised hers back at him, glancing down at her leg.  She saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down on a swallow before he wrapped his hand around the back of her bare thigh, just under the curve of her left butt cheek.  The fingers of his free hand slid inside the lace trim around the elastic holding the stockings up and he pulled them slowly down the front of her leg and off her foot.  She bent the right knee and he repeated the task.  By the time he was finished, there was an impressive bulge in the front of his boxers that she couldn’t ignore.

After he removed her second stocking, he ran his hand up the inside of her leg and she jerked a little as his fingers brushed the back of her knee.  He looked up at her with an amused smile.  “Ticklish?” he asked.

“At times.”

His hands moved away from her legs before they traveled too far up her inner thighs and he put them back on her hips.  She almost sighed in disappointment.  She had begun to throb from low in her pelvis and she was so looking forward to the relief his touch would bring.

“Is there room for two in that bed?” she asked.

“For you, always.”

She took one of his hands and then moved past him to crawl across the mattress.  She turned to face him on her knees in the middle of the bed and he crawled up after her.  She put her hands on his shoulders and he put his hands on her hips.

All she could think about was that her body was about to be against his body, not because either of them were hurt, but because they wanted to be with each other.  She couldn’t wait to know what he felt like when he was pressing her down with his weight or what his hips would feel like between her thighs or what his cheek would feel like against her breast.  

But, first, she wanted to know what his skin felt like under her hands.  She trailed her fingers down his chest, reciting proper anatomical names in her head for the muscles she traced as she went.  Pectoralis major.  Rectus abdominus.  Linea alba.  Umbilicus.  External abdominus oblique.  Iliac crest.  Inguinal ligament, her personal favorite, on him, which she was finally getting the chance to touch.  Not just touch, but drag her index finger along the line of.  His gut clenched like she knew it would and his chest heaved with heavy panting.

She shuffled forward on her knees, resting her hands at his sides, until her torso brushed his abdomen and she felt him take a deep breath against her.  She tipped her face up to him and he bent his head to kiss her.  He pulled at her hips, bringing her flush against his hard evidence of his arousal.  

Instantly, her body went loose and wet in anticipation.  She sagged against him for a moment and then leaned away, taking one hand from his shoulder so she could reach back to find the bed.  Unwillingly to break their kiss, she pulled him down with her and he hovered over her on hands and knees as she settled on her back, knees opened for him.

Already, she felt bereft when his body left hers.  He was close enough to raise the fine hairs on her arms, but not nearly close enough, and she urged him onto her with the press of her hands to his back.  Her thighs opened further as he lowered his hips and he came down to rest his weight on his forearms.  She arched her chest up into him and he groaned and pulled his lips from hers.

He kissed his way down her chest and his stubble rasped across her skin, making her squirm and shiver.  She pushed her hips up into him and he pushed back so that they both groaned from the sparks of pleasure it created.  She knew it was too much, too soon, and she didn’t want to send him over the edge before they got to explore each other more, before they had even gotten fully naked with each other, so she pushed his hips away and allowed him to move further down her body.

He made it all the way down to her belly button with soft, wet kisses, even across one side to her hip, just above her gunshot scar, before he moved back up and pulled the cup of her bra down with his thumb.  He pushed her breast up to his mouth and flicked at the taut peak of her nipple with his tongue.  She whimpered softly and put her hands to his head, clenching her fingers in his hair.

“Take it off,” she murmured, surprised at the low growl in her voice.  She twisted her shoulder to lift her back up a little.  Without taking his mouth away from her breast, he slid his hands under her back and unhooked her bra with surprising ease.  “I don’t even want to know how you did that so quickly,” she husked.

Mulder chuckled a little and lifted his head just enough that she could loosen the bra and slide it off her arms.  He went for her unloved breast as soon as her chest was exposed.  She let him lavish his attention on her chest for awhile, but her lips started to miss his and she brought his head back up to hers.  His body settled against hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

This is Mulder, she thought to herself.  Mulder’s mouth.  Mulder’s hands.  Mulder’s body.  Mulder’s fingers.  Mulder’s legs.  Mulder’s tongue.  Mulder’s cologne.  Mulder’s skin.  Mulder’s arms.  Mulder’s hips.  Mulder’s back.  Mulder’s knees.  There was just one thing missing.

She tipped her head back out of his kiss and clenched her thighs against his hips.  “I want all of you,” she said.

“You already have all of me,” he murmured against her neck.

“Not quite.”  She brought her heel up to the top of his backside and pushed at the elastic of his boxer shorts.  “All of you.”

She didn’t want to, but she had to let him go so he could remove his boxers.  He sat back on his heels after his shorts had been tossed aside and she rolled her head to the side to look at him.  She ran her hand over the front of his thigh towards his erection, but stopped short half-way up. The only thing left was her own underwear and she rubbed her thighs together in a silent request for his assistance.  She lifted her hips slightly when he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and he drew them off her legs in much the same, slow manner he’d removed her stockings.

“Good God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

“So are you.”

“I mean, I’ve always known, you always have been, but with you like this, and that look in your eye...God, Scully.”

“What look in my eye is that?”

“The one that says you want this.  You want me.”

“I do want this.  And you.  Especially, you.”

Mulder moved back over her and she welcomed him back into her arms and between her thighs.  She held his face as he slid inside her, wanting to see his eyes.  She bit her lip against the burn of initial resistance, but it quickly melted into pleasure and she gasped for breath as he filled her with everything he had, both physically and emotionally.

“Mulder,” she whispered.

“Scully,” he whispered back.

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she let them slide shut as he moved against her.  This was not Daniel, who always needed the upper hand and took offense when she asked him to slow down and never asked if she needed anything.  This was not Jack, who never initiated intimacy and was too distracted most of the time to try to make it good for either of them.  This was Mulder, who would love her from afar until the end of time if she had never been ready for him.  She still didn’t know how she could’ve been so blind before.

“Scully,” he groaned.

“I’m close,” she answered.  “Don’t stop.”

She could feel the sweat sliding down his back between her fingers.  Her thighs quivered and burned, stretched apart by his hips and his thrusts.  He slid a hand under her back and pressed up against her tailbone.  His weight was held up by one hand, above her shoulder.  The sudden tilt of her hips was like magic.  Every upward thrust of his hips perfectly aligned his pubic bone with hers and she quickly floated higher and higher until the bubble of pleasure burst open and she came apart piece by piece.

Mulder groaned her name and his body tensed and shook against hers.  She held on, squeezing him as tightly as she could for as long as she could.  Slowly, they relaxed and he slipped out of her body, but she wasn’t willing to let him go quite yet.  He turned them onto their sides so his weight would be off of her and they came back together with tangled arms and legs.

“Call me a skeptic,” Mulder said.  “But, I’m still not quite sure that was real.”

Scully moved her hand down and pinched his backside, causing him to laugh and jerk his hips.  He conceded that it was real and she buried her face in his shoulder to smell his skin.  He turned her hair between his fingers.  The rain still fell outside and tapped gently against the window.  It was like nothing had changed, but everything was different.

“What flipped the switch, Scully?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered, honestly.  “I just suddenly knew it was you.”

“What do we do now?”

“We should probably get some sleep.”

“Can we just stay here for a few more minutes?  I don’t really want to let you go quite yet.”

Scully tipped her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw.  He shifted himself lower and pressed his forehead to hers.  She rubbed her nose against his back and forth until he closed his eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Leaving the light on.”

The End