Deadpool Crossover Fanfiction Novelas e Histórias

"I'm a writer with a gambling debt and three ex-wives." "Not anymore." Elodie took the bottle of bourbon and threw it into the white void. It shattered, the glass turning into stars. "Here, you're just Victor. And I’m just Elodie." "And the debt?" "Paid in full," Sebastian said. He began to fade, his form dissolving into a soft, violet mist. "The Crossing is complete, Subject Zero. Write something worth reading." The ghosts vanished. The Healer, the perfect Victor, Sebastian—all sucked back into the white.

you shout, but the command dies in your throat as Zane’s amber eyes lock onto yours through the shattered frame. He’s not the man who brought you groceries or fixed the twins’ swing set. This Zane is all predator, his human form blurred at the edges, claws elongating into obsidian daggers. “You *owed* me, Zara,” he hisses. “I gave you shelter. I *loved* them.” Ryland shifts back mid-snarl, blood streaking his bare chest. “Touch them and I’ll peel the flesh from your bones.” Zane laughs—a broken, hollow sound. “You think you’re still their savior, Cross? You’re just the fool who abandoned them.”

Like maybe the men were really asking; like maybe they were more than just flirting to pass the time as they all drove from Utah to New York, and now back west again. Briley had been alone in the van with Dux and Drake for almost ten solid days, ever since the group of them had peeled away from The Garden of Divine Light, leaving Gideon dead on his back and his Guardians and women-servants keening and wailing. She still felt incredibly guilty about the women but she knew that Wolf Connor, President of The Road Devils MC, and Ice Johansson, the ice-cold blond beast who didn’t seem to possess a single emotion, were staying on top of things.

Then he was gone, disappearing into the Special Collections with his ancient book, leaving me standing alone in the shadowy library with more questions than answers. I returned to my study table in a daze, but I couldn't focus on herbology anymore. My mind kept replaying the encounter, the electric shock when we touched, the way he'd said my surname like it meant something significant. Blackwood. White Luna bloodline. Ancient power. "It was just stress hallucinations," I whispered to myself, Dr. Chen's explanations echoing in my mind. "None of it was real." But what if some of it was? My phone buzzed with another text, this time from Quinn: Did you hear? Jaxon Cross is officially dating Cami

Sliding under the fabric of her dress from beneath, like he knew her body, like he had touched her a thousand times before. Something inside me snapped. “Who the fuck is that?” I barked, my voice louder than I intended, raw with something I couldn’t even name. Elysia crossed her arms, leaning against the wall like she was enjoying this. “That,” she said slowly, “is your ex-wife moving on.” “Shut up.” “She looks happy, Daelan.” “I said shut the hell up!” I roared, slamming the phone against the side of the tub, water splashing over the edge.

So I'm reposting them here. Susan Joan Leona Serafall Calypso A/N3 : sorry for the delay in uploading books im sorry for that if I offended you, I was cooking up something good and interesting so pls don't forget to support me by dropping your gems and your comments pls so I will know if I would continue or rephrase my story, so I won't be discouraged. pls don't forget to follow me so you will know when I upload new chapters

Now, all at once, it hit me that everything I had given over the years had been nothing more than a one-sided effort. I was just about to book a flight when I realized I had forgotten my ID and passport, so I had no choice but to return home. The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by a mess all over the floor. Leftover snacks were scattered everywhere, along with half-finished dishes left behind. Right by the bedroom door lay something impossible to miss—a box of levonorgestrel pills and a piece of wine-red lingerie. Willow had never liked being physically intimate with me. Even Naomi's existence had come from a drunken incident.

Cecelia, I would recognize that hellcat anywhere. "Baby, why are you talking to the server? Hey, clean these shards on the floor. I want everywhere to be sparkling clean for our wedding. If I see a tiny shard of that cup on the ground, then you will die," she said, then looked at me. I watched the color drain from her cheeks, and she turned murderous. I couldn't believe it. Hayden Walker was in front of me after trying to burn me alive. I was so overcome with emotions that I slapped him twice on the cheek.

“Cassia, why?” Veyra’s blade hums, her wraiths closing in, Renn’s sobs echoing, Maddox’s shadows faltering. The cave’s crystals dim, the ritual broken, but my Convergence form glows, untainted, the blade’s runes singing true. I’m the Convergence—bridge or ruin—and as Cassia’s life slips, Veyra’s forces tighten their grip, I face the cost of purity: a friend’s sacrifice, a traitor’s aid, and a war I may not survive.