The Adeventures of DeadPool (and Young Justice)

The battle was a chaotic, blood-soaked frenzy. Wade was in his element, slicing through soldiers with his katanas, dodging bullets and laughing like a madman. The scent of gunpowder, blood, and smoke filled the air as he tore through the outpost with reckless abandon.

But then, one Kyrati warrior—braver or dumber than the rest—managed to get in close. The man swung his machete with a desperate shout, catching Wade off guard for a split second.

Schlick!

The blade bit deep into Wade's left arm, nearly severing it completely. Wade staggered, staring down at the limb hanging on by a few ragged tendons.

"Awww, my arm! And we were just getting to know each other!" Wade groaned dramatically, clutching the bleeding stump with his remaining hand.

The Kyrati warrior looked triumphant for all of two seconds before Wade's eyes locked onto him. His playful grin twisted into something darker.

"Okay, you get one," Wade growled, grabbing the man's wrist with his good hand.

With a sickening crunch, Wade twisted the guy's wrist in a full circle, snapping the bones like twigs.

"AYAAAAHHHH!" The warrior screamed, his voice rising in agony.

"Sorry, buddy! Should've worked on your flexibility!" Wade quipped, jamming the warrior's own knife into his throat with a quick, savage motion.

"Sorry, buddy! Should've worked on your flexibility!" Wade quipped, jamming the soldier's own knife into his throat with a quick, savage motion.

The man gurgled, blood bubbling from his mouth as he collapsed. Wade didn't even blink. His focus was on his arm—hanging limply at his side, spurting blood in rhythmic pulses.

The tattoo flared to life, glowing with an eerie, crimson light. Wade's entire body tensed as the energy surged through him. His severed arm started knitting itself back together, flesh and bone rejoining as if the machete wound had never happened. The pain was unbearable for a brief moment, but Wade didn't care. He had felt worse.

Within seconds, his arm was whole again—but something was different.

Wade stared at his now-healed limb. The skin around the wound was darker, almost tribal in its appearance, and faint lines of the same red glow from his tattoo spread along his veins. He flexed his fingers, feeling the raw power coursing through him.

"I look good in Kyrati," Wade chuckled, admiring the way his arm had taken on a bit of a savage, tribal look. "I should do this more often."

He flexed his muscles, feeling stronger, more primal. Whatever the death tattoo had done, it had given him a little piece of the Kyrat warriors he'd just slaughtered.

"That's what I call a handy upgrade," Wade laughed, looking down at the body of the soldier who had slashed him. "Thanks, bud. Couldn't have done it without you!"

As the chaos around him began to die down, Wade noticed one last Kyrati soldier—a young man, barely out of his teens—stumbling toward him. The soldier's face was pale, and blood poured from a bullet wound in his throat. He collapsed to his knees, choking on his own blood, his eyes wide with fear.

Wade sauntered over, tilting his head curiously. The kid's eyes were filled with terror as he looked up at the mercenary who had just single-handedly destroyed the outpost. He was dying, and he knew it.

"Awww, look at you," Wade cooed, crouching down beside the soldier. "You look like you've had a rough day, huh? Bullet in the throat, all your buddies dead… not exactly your best Tuesday, I'm guessing."

The soldier gurgled, his eyes rolling back as he coughed up more blood. Wade shook his head, tsking softly.

"You know," Wade said, tapping the glowing tattoo on his chest, "I could fix that. Patch you right up. Good as new. Or, well… good enough to keep playing this little game a while longer."

He leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "You tell me where your village is, and I'll heal you. It'll hurt like hell, sure, but I can keep you alive. We can keep doing this all day, if you want."

The soldier's eyes widened, his body trembling with fear and pain. Wade could see it in his face—the kid was terrified, desperate to survive. He tried to speak, but only a weak croak came out. Blood trickled from his mouth, his life slipping away with every ragged breath.

Wade's grin grew wider. "Come on, man, don't die on me yet! We were just getting started!" He reached out, placing his hand over the soldier's chest, right where the bullet wound was. The life tattoo pulsed, glowing brighter as Wade focused his energy on the soldier.

The young man gasped as the wound in his throat began to close, his body shuddering in agony. The pain must have been unbearable, but Wade didn't stop. He was enjoying this too much.

"There you go, buddy. A little more time to think about my offer," Wade said cheerfully, watching as the soldier's skin knitted itself back together. But Wade wasn't healing him completely—just enough to keep him conscious.

The soldier coughed, his eyes flicking toward Wade with a mix of fear and desperation. He tried to speak, his voice a raspy whisper, but it was too weak to understand.

Wade frowned, shaking his head. "Come on, speak up! I need details. Coordinates. An address. Maybe a Yelp review?"

The soldier's eyes fluttered, his body shaking as he slipped closer to death. Wade sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"Fine, be that way," he muttered, standing up and dusting off his pants. "You were fun while you lasted, warrior."

With a swift motion, Wade drew his pistol and fired a single shot into the warrior's head, ending his suffering.

"Guess I'll just have to find the village myself," Wade said with a shrug, holstering his gun.

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some powerstone pls 👉🏽👈🏽