#warlock wednesday

[glacial-art]

despite everything, it's still you

[frootsnak]

bwaaaah

[why-i-love-comics]

X-Men: Heir of Apocalypse #4 (2024)

written by Steve Foxe art by Netho Diaz, Sean Parsons, & Alex Sinclair

[iconuk01]

So Apocalypse has chosen his heir and it's... Doug Ramsey... the most unlikely possibility of the twelve chosen candidates (And therefor the most obvious winner for a cynical reader).

I have... feelings about this as an idea as you might imagine, and regrettably few of them are especially positive, but in an effort to hold on to optimism at some level, I shall wait and see where this goes.

I mean, I like the reasons Apocalypse chose Forge, Dani and Doug as possible heirs: those with not the greatest power levels, but a new way of looking at things which might proves useful.

Dani in particular is interesting in her reason for accepting a candidacy, given her vested interest in training future mutants.

And she turns him down because she doesn't need his help.

Forge he chose because of what he could offer the wrold, and what the world had thrown away in destroying Krakoa, but knowing that Forge also invented the mutant power neutraliser weapon makes unsuitable

The final narrative decision to take a mutant whose whole point was how low key his powers were and how otherwise close to baseline human he was and amping them up into... Revelation... It's going to take a lot of very good writing to make me invested in this. I hope there is plenty of that at least.

The fact he also gets the ugliest physical upgrade imaginable doesn't help. Doug managed to avoid the worst of 90's retoolings at the time by conveniently being dead, but this looks like the 90's slammed him with the subtlety of a frying pan to the face.

I might have expected this to be the end of part four of a five part story, and Doug turns it down in the finale because that's not how he operates, but, well, this is a new post-Krakoan age.

Oh well, let's see what comes next.

[heckcareoxytwit]

Director Vulture is preparing an execution of Kurt Wagner (a.k.a Spinnenmann, formerly Nightcrawler) so that he could have his body dissected for study. Silver Sable calls it quits but one of Orchis agents would not let her leave. Silver Sable’s team depart, apart from Kramer and Sable and the mind control device is mentioned. Kramer removes his helmet to reveal....Kurt! Wait, if the real Kurt is disguised as an Orchis agent, then that means the captive "Kurt" is actually Mystique in disguise. It turns out that Mystique can alter her appearance down to the genetic level, as revealed in Xmen Blue: Origins one-shot as well as she is also concealing weapons. Silver Sable and Mystique go on their happy rampage while Kurt goes looking for Warlock, who is the resource Orchis and Director Vulture are using to enslave mutants and turn them into hounds.

Kurt Wagner accesses through the computer system but Ghost Bamf has another idea; the Orchis operative reduced to a braindead zombie when he tried to access Mystique's mind. Mystique and Silver Sable flirt in the middle of the battle. Ghost Bamf enters the mind of the Orchis guy and pilots him to get through the computer firewall, which frees Warlock. The Technarch reabsorbs his code, stolen and used on the Orchis Hounds, freeing them from Orchis influence too. However, Warlock he could not absorb Director Vulture’s as he has the source code for too long. Director Vulture attacks Warlock, Silver Sable and Mystique by charging in and knocking them down. Kurt Wagner fights Director Vulture by using his agility and teleporting around him until he stabs him with the Hope Sword. With Director Vulture down, this allows Warlock to absorb his source code from him.

Uncanny Spider-Man #5, 2023

[fuckyeswednesday13]

🗣OCTOBER is Here!!

Happy 45 years of Halloween films 🎃

Meeting the OG Boogeymen Nick Castle from Halloween 1 and Dick Warlock from Halloween 2 🎃

[magspy]

WIP Wednesday, finally!

I was tagged by the absolutely fantastic @alienturnipp and @ndostairlyrium weeks ago, but didn't have anything to share until now. This time though, I can offer a tiny sneak peek into the first steps of my design process for a new character!

I hope it's not weird if I just tag you two right back. It’s been a while since you tagged me and I'm so curious! Also tagging @auphelia and @loserwithanartacc

[alexanderlightweight]

omg! yes! I wanted to do this so badly, Malec omega verse for the wednesday prompt?

okay! here we go thank you for the prompt!

i hope you enjoy!

<3 lumine

-

Alec understands the importance of security.

He’s the Interim Head of the New York Institute and he knows better than most the dangers of politics and power.

That doesn’t mean he can fully stop himself from bristling as he’s approached by the High Warlock’s security.  He allows their scrutiny as he waits, he even allows their approach.  Nods in acceptance when they say they require a pat down, even after he has visibly eased them by coming without physical weapons.

Then the one in back steps forward and instead of beta, Alec smells alpha.

It’s strong and pungent and before the man’s hand has even touched him, Alec has lunged forward.  He’s nearly unaware of himself as he does it, only concentrates on the taste of copper on his tongue.  Salt and iron wash away the too strong scent of Alpha and that forever feral part of him calms just a bit.

His hand replaces his mouth and he wrenches back the fingers that dared try to touch him. Alec steps back and spits blood on the floor just as the alpha crashes down, biting back screams.

That,” he says with teeth stained red, his tongue dragging across the sharp edges of his canines, “was rude.  I didn’t realize the High Warlock of Brooklyn allowed those under his name to take such liberties.” 

There’s a familiar, shocked pause.  

No one ever expects a shadowhunter to attack with anything but weapons.  They have their adamas, why debase themselves by acting without it.

Alec has no such qualms and it’s clear, from the blood dripping down his chin to the way his head tilts, a quiet judgement. 

A subtle taunt.

It’s faint, but Alec almost feels that he can hear a deep chuckle.  It’s impossible, the music is far too loud and no one around him has spoken.  

“I,” the beta hesitates, clearly unsure of just what to do next.  She rocks on her feet, by downworld laws, Alec had every right to do what he did.  They all know that.

“Do you still need to search me,” Alec asks, smiling at her as he does.  It’s not a nice smile, bloodlust still too close to the surface, but he is still a diplomat. This is an olive branch they don’t deserve from him personally, but shadowhunters as a whole owe the downworld much more than this simple courtesy.  

She takes a moment to decide whether or not it's safe.  If her job is worth it and just as she visibly steels herself and steps forward, a flash of fire ignites before her and she catches it from the air.  

There’s an imperceptible sigh as she lets out a breath of air she doesn’t need.  “The High Warlock will allow you to approach without a physical search,” she hesitates.  “If you allow him to use magic to do it instead.”

It is both a test and a boon.

Alec has no wish to be felt up by anyone, though he can generally tolerate non-alphas. However most shadowhunters would consider the magic far worse a fate.

Alec is not most shadowhunters.

“I appreciate his consideration and accept his terms.” 

She smells both shocked and relieved as she leads him to the dais. 

There’s no time to wipe the blood from his face and Alec resigns himself to the tacky feeling of it drying as it drips down his neck.

At the very least, he knows it won’t stain his clothes.

Alec licks his lips as he gets closer to Bane. The taste of mundane pennies and dirty iron is still on his lips and he hides the smugness of his victory behind a calm demeanor. From the wary way his fae escort glances at him, he doubts he’s being as sly as he hopes.

Alec swallows down the taste of blood and regrets his actions the moment he inhales Bane’s scent. It’s gone from an opaque nothingness to feeling like he’s breathing in fire. Heat crawls down his spine and he does his best not to inhale again, feeling a bit like a fool when he opens his mouth to greedily take in air rather than risk the dizziness that comes with scenting Bane.

Bane is also an omega.

A gorgeous, powerful, omega whose scent makes Alec’s thoughts blur and whose casual arrogance is far more attractive than it should be. Alec thinks it’s because it’s not arrogance, just confidence.

Alec doubts that Bane ever suffers fools or that he has to react as basely as Alec did. He very much believes that even one look of disdain from Bane would be enough to leave even the most powerful and arrogant of Idris alphas quaking.  The thought makes him wet his lips unconsciously and he shifts as he gets closer.

“Sit down, Alexander was it?” Bane asks him and Alec nods, caught in the shock of how good his name sounds when it’s Bane who says it.

Alec sits and shudders, trying not to be distracted when his knee accidentally brushes Bane’s thigh.

He doesn’t know when he got close enough for them to be touching but he knows it’s impolite and he tries to move back only to feel his back hit the arm of the sofa.

So he stays, where he is and tries to figure out how to explain what it is he needs without being completely distracted and overwhelmed.

—

Meanwhile Magnus is quite enjoying himself.

Hid pretty omega shadowhunter has been too distracted by Magnus own personal everything to realize that Magnus’ magic has closed the distance between them. Blue crackling along the leather to shrink the  down the sofa until there is nowhere for his guest to go.

He’s been intrigued since the moment he felt angelic energy enter his wards. Alone and clearly with a purpose.

A lone omega shadowhunter in Magnus’ territory, without guard or weapon who reacted to an alpha being rude with violence. Magnus had been delighted even before he’d seen the shadowhunter in person or had a taste of his scent.

Now Magnus is ecstatic.

 “You’ll understand if I use magic, to ensure that you’re unarmed and come in good faith.” Magnus asks, a smirk on his lips as his shadowhunter, Alexander, nods.

His tentacles are glamoured and he only allows two to reach out, to start from Alexander’s calves, where his boots end and encircling the muscles there before sliding up. They take their time, encircling strong thighs and Magnus is disappointed by the thick material that makes him unable to feel skin beneath his touch. Instead he contents himself, invisible tentacles tugging aside a leather jacket and cheating by sliding up a loose shirt. Alexander startles visible at that, biting his own lips and turning in confusion to look at Magnus before settling.

Whatever it is that his institute needs, it’s important enough that he came alone and Magnus is going to make sure it’s worth both of their while.

Magnus takes his time scoping out Alexander’s chest, one tentacle sliding through coarse hair and the other slipping around behind to tap up Alec’s spine. The meet at the top, encircling around Alexander’s neck and rubbing teasingly at the scent glands there.

Coincidentally, they also smear the blood drying on his neck across said glands.

Alexander’s eyes go wide and his neck shakes as he swallows, trying not to let himself be overly affected, but he never tries to pull away. His eyes are blissed out and he’s swaying towards Magnus helplessly, as if he’s unable to keep himself away.

Magnus purrs and sends out a little pulse of warm magic to seep into Alexander’s muscles as he offers his hand.

—

Bane reaches out his hand and Alec gives him his own without thinking. It’s bloody still, his skin sticky and his fingers covered in blood.

“Allow me,” Bane says, “as it was one of my employees who pushed you to defend yourself.”

Alec doesn’t know how to respond, he just nods his head. He expects Bane to either magic it away, or offer him a tissue. He’s not expecting a burgundy stained mouth to wrap around one of his fingers. Nor is he expecting the electric jolt that goes through him. Or that when he instinctively moves away, he’s unable to. He’d forgotten about the magic holding him down. The thick, invisible ropes of magic that even now tease at his scent glands and he swallows harshly.

He swallows again when Bane moves on to the next finger and then the next. When he licks over Alec’s palm, the cool metal of piercing on his tongue making Alec shiver and then again when that same metal presses against the underside of his wrist.

“There, much more presentable, aren’t you.” Bane tells him, a smirk on his mouth and something darkly appreciative gleaming in his eyes as he watches Alec. “Oh, but I seemed to have missed a spot.”

The hand on Alec’s wrist tugs and he follows, there’s a moment of confusion in his head and he can’t help that he whimpers when he realizes he’s in Bane’s lap. He’s so close to him. Too close for him to keep his thoughts clear and it gets worse when Bane leans forward and licks over his neck. Alec knows that he’s just cleaning away the blood but it doesn’t feel like that. It doesn’t feel like that at all and his knees clamp against the thigh he’s straddling. 

“Almost done,” he’s told and then lips smeared with rogue and blood are pressed to his, a tongue licking over his split and bloody lips and Alec shudders. There are no words he can say. Both because any he tries are swallowed by Bane’s kiss and because he can’t form them.

It’s too much and not enough and everything he’s never realized he wanted, or needed.

—

Magnus has a thought, something in the back of his mind that goes ‘this one. This one is different, this one. And now, with the taste of Alexander’s blood under his tongue, he knows what it is.

This one is his.

Magnus lets Alexander settle against him and brushes his fingers through the hair on the nape of Alexander’s neck and tugs a little.

There’s a whimper, soft and pleading when he takes his lips away and he smirks to himself against the skin of Alec’s jaw.

“Bane-” Is a breathless word spoken and he nips at Alec’s cheek in reprimand, earning an even more gasping, “Magn’s?”

Magnus croons in pleased delight and drags his magic and tentacles across Alexander’s body and his soul and chuckles at the groan it earns him and the little keen Alexander lets out.

It’s a beautiful sound but the rest of the club feel more than hear it. The natural pleasure that seeds the atmosphere with potential violence only comes from a content, pleased omega purring to a mate.

As Alexander is purring for Magnus.

[arborescentarecaceae]

Adam crumb in the latest GOTG issue!

Gamora immediately stabbed him <3

[adamwarlock]

Heard you were talking shit

[glacial-art]

Little character portraits for artfight

[orangedodge]

I'm going to guess tentatively that no one who evacuated Krakoa has actually died, and that the cliffhanger’s resolution will be that Darwin and/or Warlock redirected the gates to a safe location. And that wherever everyone went, it's just too far out of Xavier's range for him to detect. I think that would be a good way to pay off Darwin becoming one with Cerebro--and promising Forge it would help everyone later on--and with Warlock surviving on inside of the machines to help his friends.

That Destiny thought it was the right call to accept exile and fight another day, and was so sure that Manifold had the ability to save everyone, tells me that they weren't all just marching to their deaths under Xavier's control. They’re somewhere in a real place, where Eden will still be able to discover them. I think also that all of the set-up we’ve had so far has been oriented around the idea that the mutants (and ordinary humans tbh) are in dire straits, but that they haven’t lost yet. We also already know that Magik, Mirage, and Mary made it out alive to star in their own book in Otherworld, though I guess it's not really clear if everyone else is with them or if the survivors have all been split up.

(It’s also possible that Stasis and Moira just actually kept their word and let everyone escape to somewhere the X-Men can’t reach, but I don’t think so since Duggan is the event’s lead writer and he’s leaned so hard into the idea that the mutants vs machines war only persists because Orchis are lying genocidal maniacs.)

[why-i-love-comics]

Uncanny Spider-Man #5 - "Fade to Blue" (2023)

written by Si Spurrier art by Lee Garbett, Simone Buonfantino, & Matt Milla

[safrona-shadowsun]

What if Wednesday: One day the Courier shows up with her eyes bandaged/blindfolded, with an Eye of Kilrogg at her side to grant her sight. This status quo remains for about 2 weeks, then she is back to normal. What happened to her? Would she tell anyone if some cared enough to ask? Would she tell the truth, or lie?

The price of power often came at sacrifice. 

It was a law of fel magic that Safrona initially did not think could apply to such a basic evocation as the Eye. It went underused, as she often relied instead on the phased figure of her succubus to scout ahead if needed. But as Safrona decided to evolve her abilities in summoning, it only seemed sensible to strengthen the Eye and push this trivial connection to the next plateau as well. 

The dispractice and blind arrogance cost the Warlock senses she did not know how to function without. The punishment came without pain, only the dread feeling of the ritualistic channel fizzling and failing her. The fiery thread of magic dying at her fingertips was the last sight her eyes were granted.

Day 1, Week 1:

A shriek echoed in the chambers below the Sojourn, more outrage than fear, though the sound was laced with its aura of panic. She heard the shadows waft into the chamber, sensing her beloved Soulsinger - even in her blindness she reached in the direction of his puzzled voice, needing the solid sanctum of his arms in that moment more than ever. But she would not cry. She would not dare mark this failure with tears.

Day 3, Week 1:

Isolation. Safrona did not leave the altar chamber stinking of her failure, did not drink, did not eat. She sunk into her own outrage, fuming with this pitiful blindness, this vulnerability. No one could see her this way, Courier or no. The smallest summon, the most unused spell in her arsenal, the Eye of Gul'dan had been nothing to her until now. Now it had effectively become her curse. This stupid, useless, novice spell. And it had taken her sight! Fuming at every failed attempt to reconnect to the Eye and take her sight back, even the First gave the irate Harvester her space.

Day 6, Week 1:

Paranoia gripped her as blind sight began to shift into abyssal darkness, shadows winding, writhing. The desire and desperation to see was answered in a way, shadowed vision opening upon nothing she recognized, faces foreign to her, blurred expanses. Heavy words in the Forgotten Tongue tried to wrap around her mind, causing her eye sockets to ache, head throbbing. A giant eye opened in the ceiling of the chamber, staring directly onto herself, pupil swirling. Vertigo and the pounding migraine was a vicious combination through her tender flesh, urging her to vomit. The eye dissolved from the ceiling.

Day 8, Week 2:

She finally began to connect through the Eye in brief flares of hazy vision, but she had not yet been able to maintain it. Still, she imprisoned herself to the chambers, knowing that her blindness could be a handicap as well as a threat. Power evolved in unforseen ways, and she would not give up until this too was conquered. It had not been a curse, or a punishment, her blindness. It was a test, she came to realize, and there were flares of progress. 

Day 11, Week 2: 

She felt her Soulsinger's eyes boring into her as she attempted to remain concentrated on the floor of the chamber. She bothered with a bath upstairs once, but her neglect of food and drink was obvious. "If ya don' want ta' eat, don'." His voice seemed to throw across the chamber around her, omnipresent. "When ya body grows weaker an' the daemons sense it, start taking over ya body, I'll simply end ya and then myself." 

"Stop this grim talk," the warlock muttered, pulling herself up from the cold floor, mildly irritated. Her voice became brittle, thickening with a pretense of emotional fallout she was consistently holding herself up from. "I am supposed to be your Eyes. And I feel I have failed us both." A clear of her throat, and she smoothed her tone to quiet resolve. "But I will rise from this. I must." Safrona offered a hand in the dark for him to take, the blind warlock presenting herself rather than blindly grope for him in the low light. "I'll get some food in me if that sets you off this dark talk. But keep me like your best secret in the Sojourn, my love. No one else needs to see me this way."

Day 12, Week 2: 

Madness took the summoning chamber in Safrona's reaching - her focused channeling did not manifest one floating ocular orb, but many manifestations of void-based eyestalks drowning the chamber in abyssal energy. If allowed to permeate, greater forces of the Dark would breach through. Understanding the threat, Wraafenn was quick to tear into the nearest eye to its mistress, but it was the First's blades that cut through several eye stalks in quick succession. When the whirling noise of the chamber was set to a silence, the abyssal veil enveloping the warlock dissipated, and she took in a gasp of clean air. She felt the wary edge in the First of the Perished, the doubt punctuated by a flick of one of his blades, ready to sever her from the world. "I am me. I am here." Safrona promised, able to track the vague flicker of his silhouette separating from the rest of the darkness - another small sign of progress.   "I can do this. I just. I need a moment." A breathless chuckle. "Or a strong whiskey."

Day 13, Week 2: 

The answer had been at her heels over so many years, she came to understand in an epiphany. And he was here now, nudging at her feet, a tentacled limb pricking her leg for attention. Lowering herself slowly, she let her fingertips guide her in a visual of what her eyes had lost: the length of chintinous scale leading to rough, wiry hair crowning the Felhound's eyeless head. Wraafenn flinched, uncertain of the peculiar touch from its mistress. The demon dog in all its years was unaccustomed to her physicality, only knowing her by voice, by scent, by the dark ties of binding and unnatural hunger. Her fingers gripped one of it's spearing, bone-like horns to steady the demon, she confided words in the base Demonic it understood most.

 "I have no sight, like you now." Her fingers traveled downward with uncharacteristic tenderness to cradle its maw.  "Show me how to be."

A guttural sound of acceptance trilled from the many-toothed maw, though like any canine it was not fully aware of what it's owner meant, only desiring in that moment to serve. Her finger tips pulsed violently at its snout, and with a sudden whimper the Felhound expired, giving up its momentous energy to the warlock. 

A brief sacrifice, the felhunter would reform in the Nether and be called again to her soon. Perhaps with the reward of a large soul shard of a very special hunt.

Day 14, Week 2: 

Elernia was often the demonic sacrifice, most times out of a flare of anger, or spite. But the intentional sacrifice of the Felhound did not go to waste. Where some might have found the felhunter and its kin to be monstrous, understanding the evolution of its function had been a compelling key to manifestation. However basic a creature, Wraafenn was a hunter of extraordinary sense, attuned to soul and the aura of energy. The manifestation of the Eye opened wide for her now when she learned to disconnect from her own inferior senses, and give herself over to the extension. This was the lesson she needed…and with it came void singularity. 

Normal sight returned to Safrona after a day of much needed sleep. The Eye of the Great Dark was still not often a spell Safrona relied on in her day-to-day, but it was an evolution she held pride for, all the same. It was a long trial she divulged to none; it was enough that her Soulsinger had been present through the most harrowing of it. 

Exchanges with other Warlocks for knowledge was of course its own temptation, but for those newer to the Path, the Harvester would only smile enigmatically and offer: "Preparation is everything."

{ Thank you anon for this wild wind of inspiration. Brief reference to @thefirstperished, who helped to contribute to some of the writing. <3

Thank you for reading this, if you do. This was an exhaustive effort from me. }

[heckcareoxytwit]

The New Mutants are captured by Irae the new foe, and their mentor - Magneto who had been brainwashed by the former (Irae). The New Mutants presume that Magneto had turned evil again and then, they are pitted to fight against Irae's Sisterhood of Evil Mutants who looked more like cyborgs than mutants. As the New Mutants got their upper hand on the mutant cyborgs, Irae uses her mind-controlling power of hate to force the New Mutants to fight each other. Meanwhile, Magneto is fighting himself on the inside when he tries to remember his past self, his lost family and his good self. The Good-Magneto Self tries to convince him to wake up from his brainwashing by making him remember his lost family. Magneto is about to wake up when Irae tries to brainwash him again by entering into his mind. Magneto eventually wakes up from the brainwashing and turns against Irae and then, he stops his students from fighting each other. Magneto fights Irae until he defeats her by putting her down with his amplified powers. Magneto feels bad for seemingly killing her. Warlock reassures Magneto that he did what he had to do for the sake of his students' survival. Wolfsbane suggests that they could try to take Irae back to the mansion to help her recover and for reconciliation. However, before anyone could do that, Magma tells them that Irae's body is gone. Dani Moonstar assumes that the cyborg mutants must have taken Irae's body with them.

This story takes place in the 80s and it's written by J.M. DeMatteis, not Chris Claremont.

Magneto v4 #4, 2023

[dylchillvill]

DAVID’S BAAAAAAACK. I mean we did kind of know it since the first issue, that was a lot of Yiddish. But also. the bamf an alter. it. It honestly really reminds me of cyndi from the early comics and I REALLY hope it is because I love her and she deserved better than to get poofed off screen then told to “go to heaven” and disappear with a murderer’s ghost (COMICS ARE WEIRD, COMICS LIKING LEGION ARE WEIRDER) anyways. We’re so back, and David. . . DAVID YOU MOVED INTO HIS HEART? *cough cough* Gay. /pos ALSO WARLOCK IS BAAAAAAAAAAACK