Dvmm13 - DuMM13

Cover Art #3(?)

A Day Off

“How’s the dinner?” Logan asked her as they walked alongside one another on the edge of the lake, cones of ice cream in their hands. Storm got her white tank top on, showing her toned stomach, and low-waistline denim jeans, braving the summer sun casually while letting her silver hair flow freely with the caressing wind. She’s a sight to behold, everybody agrees on this, and many looked up to her as a goddess justifiably.

‘You know she fancies you, right?’

‘Yeah, sure, Furball.’ He mused with a chuckle.

“It’s my mother’s idea, actually,” Ororo relayed “She's an old friend with Queen Regent Ramonda, and both agree there’s no one else the Golden Tribe should be welcome as his consort.”

“So, it’s political?”

“Well, for the most part,” Ororo replied as they kept to the shades, enjoying the sounds of children and humans around them “T’Challa was not a bad man or anything, I've known him since we were children, but we are like siblings more than anything, and his eyes are set on someone else already,”

‘So does mine,’ Ororo muttered internally as she glanced sideways towards the long-living mutant, so manly and intimidating in visage that very few get to know the soft sides of his. He was a caring person despite his hard image of a brute; most of the girls in the Institute looked at him like their uncle and she saw many instances in which Logan also acted like their overprotective father without knowing.

[ Secret Invasion Part 2: Tangled Webs | AO3 ]

Wade: I'm so sorry about how things didn't work between us, you know? You are one of the best--

Yelena: What in the actual fuck are you doing at my sister's grave?

Wade: WE WERE MARRIED!!

Summer Road trip

AO3 fic cover (WIP)

Gambit

What if...

He was born to a nameless mom

The mom in question gouged out one of his eyes and sold it to someone for money, then left him

The Thieves Guild took him in, but then he got sold to a human trafficking ring

He hunted down his mother and killed her

He's been broken ever since

What if...

Spidey just swooped in and took him to a hospital off-screen, guys, he's al--

he's alive. he's in witness protection. he's alive and nelson murdock and page will be back. they saved him in the ambulance. matt and foggy get dinner every weekend and call every day. he's alive. he's al

Love me some Black Cat

Love her

“What the fuck is that thing?!” Teresa roared as her leg muscles were burning, sweat soaking, head frantically turning left and right to scan for the pursuing demon in a giant man’s guise filled with bloodlust and perverted sadism.

“The hell…would I know…” Bobbi’s panting showcased the limitation of her body caused by a large wound on her stomach from the lightning-fast claw attack courtesy of Victor Creed. The new stim shot developed by Richard Parker recently helps numb the pain and keep her going, but the loss of blood is slow but gradually catching up as the chase goes on.

“He’s too fast to be a human!” following her instinct, Teresa shot a valley of ICER rounds into the rustling bushes surrounding them, still having no clue about their destination.

There’s only a singular drive that matters at the moment.

Survive.

They run, and run, but the chance of survival receding significantly with the more Bobbi Morse keeps pushing her limits.

“Run, little rabbits! Make it more fun for me!” the giant man cackled from the woods, like a wraith of vengeance hunting them down. Sounds of trees being pounced upon and launched from chasing their tails like a shadow, deliberately stretching out the inevitable doom for entertainment.

She’s not an expert marksman or godly-accurate like Hawkeye or anything, but she could’ve sworn on her dead mother’s grave that she landed at least five shots of ICER rounds into the inhuman hunter after he almost disemboweled the blonde agent. According to the specs, that much dendrotoxin in someone’s system should introduce a cardiac arrest or even semi-permanent nerve damage already; yet the motherfucker’s still maniacally hunting them down like cattle effortlessly.

Maybe, just maybe, she can sacrifice Morse and get away from here. A slim chance of success, but it’s better than whatever the sadist giant had in mind.

That’s how she lived her life since…

Teresa suddenly stopped in her tracks and ducked down out of instinct, rolled out of the way, and quickly lined the barrel of her ICER at the blur of Victor Creed, aiming at the center of mass. Three consecutive shots rang out, colliding into the savage man’s chest and neck, resulting in his falling limp and careening into a nearby fell tree, the sound of the collision was identical to a speeding truck crashing into a pole. The light of hope is fleeting, as the mass of a furred man slowly rises from the exploded tree with splints of wood piercing into his flesh, yet the animalistic man doesn’t seem too bothered by it at all.

Under the moonlight, Teresa witnessed the most baffling sight she’d ever come across.

Victor Creed casually dislodged all of the splints from his body, even the big one that pierced through his diaphragm had been pulled out like plucking a chicken’s feather, the exposed skin shows the wounds he sustained a mere moment earlier mending themselves like reverse footage, accelerated beyond human comprehension.

His metallic and shiny grin of death illuminated by the cold and uncaring gleam of the moon sowed despair into her heart. Shaken with fear and desperation, Teresa lined the gun again at the slowly approaching monster in front of her and fired another set of shots into his broad chest.

Her fingers kept pulling, her arms locked into a straight line, and her eyes glued to the occasional struggle of her killer.

Bang!

Bang! Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Click…

Click…

“Damn…that’s annoying,” Victor Creed growled with a sadistic smile, tensing up his arms and extending his Adamantium claws from his fingers “Ya should’ve kept running, little rabbit,” his clawed hand raised above his head, prepped for a deathly swipe, but he went rigid and foaming at his mouth a moment later as a sling of electrode penetrated his side, sending a lethal dose of electric shock through his body.

Teresa’s eyes traced the line back to its origin and met with the pale face of Bobbi Morse leaning against a tree trunk with one of her escrima in hand, her pressing finger violently shaking from exhaustion.

“Get out of there!” the command came in like a dying plea, but it was enough to jumpstart her paralyzed brain. Rolling to the side and running again, Teresa approached her C.O. with confusion and gratitude. “The battery won’t hold much longer…we need to…” she whimpered, almost collapsing on the tree trunk if not for Teresa’s support.

Teresa, with quick thinking, took Bobbi’s gun into her hand and rained another magazine down on Victor Creed, purposefully grouping the shots at his head. “How many spares do you have?” the Chameleon gritted through the fear and reloaded one from her belt into the gun.

“A couple…” Bobbi groaned and leaned heavily on Teresa, her hand still clutching the escrima like a lifeline. “Fury said nothing…about this kind of…monster.” Morse coughs a froth of blood, her internal organs starting to break down.

The effect starts to lessen when the battery is running out of juice, evidently shown in how Victor Creed gets hold of the electrode cable with his massive hand and pulls; the hook tip dislodged forcefully from his side accompanied by a squirt of blood.

“Woah! That’s the stuff! Haven’t been shocked that good since Harbin, makes me kinda missing that fucker Shiro,” Sabretooth yapped on while evading another electrode with ease since he wasn’t caught off guard this time. “Ya got some bite, I’ll give y’all that.” He walked up to them, claws sprung, and metallic fang lined his grinning face. the halo of death formed around his head from the fading moonlight was to be the last sight they would see in this final moment. “But, sadly, bunnies; everything ends.”