The Adeventures of DeadPool (and Young Justice)

The Kyrati outpost looked peaceful in the bright midday sun—until Wade Wilson arrived.

"SHOWTIME, BABY!" Wade screamed, his voice echoing down the valley as he sprinted toward the outpost, arms flailing like a madman. In his left hand, he clutched a grenade, and in his right, his trusty pistol. "Who needs a plan when you've got explosive personality?!"

Wade didn't care about the terrain. He tripped over rocks, tumbled down a small hill, and came crashing toward the outpost like a deranged cannonball. As he rolled to his feet at the bottom of the hill, the first sentry noticed him—his eyes widening in terror.

"catch!" Wade shouted, pumping his fist in the air. His confidence was unshakable, even if his grasp of the local language was… let's call it 'creatively incorrect.' What the guy had actually yelled was "Monstruo!" (Monster). Wade was, of course, oblivious.

The sentry panicked, reaching for his gun. Wade whipped his grenade at the guy without hesitation, grinning as the thing sailed through the air. It bonked off the guard's forehead before bouncing behind him, exploding in a glorious burst of shrapnel and screams.

"BOOM, BABY!" Wade laughed maniacally, taking a dramatic bow in the middle of the dirt path. "Thank you! Thank you! I'm here all week!"

Then came the sirens. The whole outpost roared to life as the soldiers scrambled. Alarms blared, and Kyrati warriors flooded out of the wooden gates like ants from a disturbed nest.

"Oh, you boys are eager!" Wade grinned, cracking his knuckles. "And you're speaking my love language: violence!"

As the first wave of soldiers rushed toward him, Wade flipped his pistol in the air and caught it with an exaggerated flourish. "It's time to paint this town… red!" He unleashed a spray of bullets, hitting one guy in the knee, another in the shoulder, and one lucky bastard right between the eyes.

"HEADSHOT!" Wade roared, leaping into the air and doing a somersault for no other reason than it looked cool.

More warriors poured out of the gates, shouting frantically, pointing their rifles at him. They yelled something in their weird, guttural language. Wade tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Diavolo!"

"Did you just call me handsome again?!" Wade cackled, completely misinterpreting their panic.

"Aw, you guys are so sweet," he said, pulling out another grenade and tossing it over his shoulder without even looking. It exploded behind him, sending two Kyrati soldiers flying into the air like ragdolls.

Wade drew his katanas from his back with a flourish, the sun gleaming off the steel. "Let's dance!"

He sprinted toward the next group of warriors, dance-dodging like a man with no sense of self-preservation. Bullets zipped past him, and Wade didn't even flinch. A round hit him square in the shoulder, spinning him around.

"Ow! That tickles!" he yelled, charging straight into the nearest soldier. His blade flashed as he sliced through the guy's rifle, then kept going, cutting across his chest in one smooth motion.

Blood sprayed, but Wade didn't stop. He spun around, slicing through another warrior's midsection, then cartwheeled to the side just in time to avoid a machete aimed at his head.

"I see you brought a knife to a sword fight!" Wade laughed, slamming his katana down into the soldier's skull. "Big mistake, buddy!"

But there were too many of them, and more soldiers were spilling out of every crevice in the outpost. The noise, the yelling, the chaos—it was perfect. Wade thrived in this kind of insanity.

He pulled out his sidearm with his free hand and started shooting randomly, not really aiming but somehow hitting targets anyway. His bullets tore through two more warriors before he emptied the clip.

A massive warrior, covered head to toe in intricate Kyrati armor, charged at him with a spear. Wade grinned, dropping his empty pistol and unsheathing his second katana. "Oh, big guy! You must be the boss fight!"

The guy roared something that sounded like an insult, but Wade just grinned. (He was actually calling Wade a "plague on the land.") But Wade didn't care.

"I'm gonna call you Steve," Wade said as he rushed forward. The warrior thrust his spear at Wade's chest, but Wade sidestepped it at the last second, slicing through the wooden shaft with both katanas in a scissor motion. The spearhead hit the dirt, and Steve's expression twisted into confusion.

"Oops!" Wade said, spinning in a pirouette and slashing across the warrior's midsection. Blood sprayed, but the guy didn't go down easily. He staggered back, clutching his stomach.

"Aw, come on, Steve! You're embarrassing me in front of the rest of the boys!" Wade lunged forward, driving both blades into the warrior's chest, kicking him backward with a boot to the gut. Steve hit the dirt hard, and Wade planted a foot on his chest, pulling his katanas free with a wet, sucking noise.

"Looks like Steve's out of the game," Wade quipped, spinning his blades as the next wave of soldiers charged him.

They opened fire, and this time Wade wasn't fast enough to dodge. Bullets ripped through his torso, legs, and arms, spinning him around and dropping him to one knee.

"OW! FUCK! That one hurt!" Wade yelled, clutching his side as blood spurted from multiple wounds. His healing factor kicked in, but it was slow. He could feel the bullets still lodged in his flesh, tearing through muscle as they tried to push their way out.

"Okay, maybe you boys aren't so bad after all," Wade grunted, using his katanas to prop himself up as his wounds slowly stitched themselves closed. He was breathing hard now, but the grin never left his face. "But I'm still prettier than you."

One of the soldiers shouted something in their language again, and Wade cocked his head.

"You know, you keep calling me stuff I don't understand, but I'm just gonna assume it's a compliment," he said, pulling a grenade from his belt and tossing it casually into the group. "You really shouldn't have."

The explosion tore through the front line of soldiers, sending bodies flying in every direction. Blood and limbs rained down around Wade, who casually wiped a bit of gore off his face.

"Well, that was messy," he muttered, pulling out one of the many guns he'd looted from fallen soldiers and checking the ammo. "Let's see how this baby handles."

Without hesitating, Wade ran straight into the center of the chaos, spraying bullets wildly in every direction. Soldiers dropped like flies, unable to keep up with the sheer lunacy of Wade's approach.

He was everywhere at once—dodging, rolling, shooting, slashing. A hail of bullets hit him in the chest and side, but he didn't even flinch. His healing factor was working overtime now, knitting flesh back together as fast as it was torn apart~~

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