I’ve seen some people complaining about Channing Tatum/his accent in Deadpool & Wolverine, and I just want to set a few things straight.
Channing has been on the docket to play Gambit since 2005, but each and every time, the character was cut from the script, he had a prior contract, or the director kept getting replaced until the project was scrapped 4 years later with the Fox/Disney merger.
He has family in Louisiana and grew up in the bayous (albeit in rural Alabama). This character has meant something to him since CHILDHOOD when it comes to representation in media.
Gambit doesn’t speak SAE (Standard American English). He’s a street urchin from Acadia/New Orleans. He grew up speaking Cajun (a mix of Southern American, Canadian French, and España Spanish grammar applied to a mostly English vocabulary) and Louisiana French (an offshoot of Canadian French from Acadians).
Every person I’ve seen online who ACTUALLY GREW UP around people who speak Cajun, Creole, and/or Louisiana French has said that his accent is SPOT ON, maybe even a little too clear.
All this to say: if you can’t understand Gambit in Deadpool & Wolverine, you’re not supposed to. That’s the bit: unless you’re used to those dialects and accents, you’re shit outta luck trying to parse it out without help. Hell, even Rogue, who grew up in the South, doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time.
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Guys, it's our final chapter 😭 Don't fret! Because there is an epilogue coming day after tomorrow that'll be a nice little wrap up, but this is our end 😭🫶🏻 (I have a crazy lil author's note at the end that I didn't want you to read before, so enjoy that after all the angst!)
Warnings: emotions! so many emotions! i cried so hard writing this one so that is your warning! minor character death but not "on screen", i listened to "waiting room" while writing this but like...don't do that if you don't want to sob uncontrollably ok
“What are you going to do to them?” you ask, knowing how innocent and naive it sounds. That’s your point.
Carter leans into the fridge and grabs one of the Mountain Dew bottles. “We will shoot them. Simple. There’ll be too many to do anything else, though I guess I could knock the women out and strangle them later.”
You nod slowly, as if that makes sense, as if it seems like a good plan, even though it terrifies you to hear it. In reality, you need to know his every move if you’re going to keep your team safe, if they make it to this cabin before you can figure something else out. Not that you don’t trust them to be prepared for anything, but you’ve witnessed just how unpredictable Carter is. You need to do your part to be one step ahead, even if he’s been five steps ahead this whole time.
“Where’s my gun?” you ask casually.
He laughs through his drink. “You think I’d bring that shit with us here? God, no. I’m not a moron. It’s in that car we drove to the edge of the woods.”
“Wait.” You had sort of figured he ditched the car, given that it was a government vehicle and all. “You…did you carry me here?”
“Fuck no, I used the four-wheeler,” he says. He leans back against the counter, eyes narrowing. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”
You mirror his stance and lean in the doorway. “I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You keep on taking mental notes. There’s a four-wheeler you can use to get down the mountain, you just need to get out of this house. Somehow.
He hums, eyes narrowing. “So you can help me.”
“Sure.”
He stares for a second. “I don’t believe you.”
You sigh. “I don’t know why you would.”
“I want to.”
“Okay,” you shrug. “Then just trust me.”
“Fine,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too happy about it right now. “I have a gun you can use, but I’m not showing you where it is. I need to shower first.”
You roll your eyes. “Right.”
“So,” he pushes off the counter. “Can I trust you to stay put? You know how dangerous these mountains are at night, and the sun is gonna set any minute now.”
Fuck. “I don’t exactly want to be dinner for the bobcats, so yeah. I’ll be here.”
“Good,” he nods. He pats his pocket and you hear keys jingling there. “And I’m taking these with me.”
You make a show of plopping down on the couch, kicking your feet up and leaning your head back. “Cool. I’m taking a nap.” You are sluggish, probably still the after effects of the drug he gave you, and you hope he takes it as that.
You hear him chuckle before going down the hall, so you’re in the clear. There’s movement in one of the rooms, presumably his bedroom, until you hear a door shut. After a few moments, you hear the shower turn on.
You stand up, eyes searching every inch of the room. There has to be something useful in this stupid place.
You’re getting out of here one way or another. There has to be a spare key to the four-wheeler somewhere, or a phone for fuck’s sake. A phone might be more useful. You could call Garcia and she could find your exact location easily.
But of course, the only phone you see is a landline that probably hasn’t been connected in years. He probably doesn’t even pay for any phone service here, if he’s as strategic as he’s shown you to be.
You hear the shower curtain move aside. The clock is ticking. Fast. You don’t know how quickly he showers, but you can’t imagine he’ll take long since you’re here. You’re surprised he’s showering at all, and that he didn’t handcuff you to a bed or something, but you’re glad he didn’t. You’re glad that, for whatever reason, he decided to trust you.
You spin in circles in the living room, willing your brain to come up with something. You check the drawers in the kitchen quietly, but there aren’t any spare keys -- or keys of any sort. It’s all random things, kitchen utensils, other household essentials that are no use to you right now.
Out of sheer curiosity, you try the front door. It’s unlocked.
Your eyes dart to the bathroom as you hear the water splash. With the front door cracked, you weigh your options.
You have no idea how far up the mountain you are, or where you even are. You have no idea what or who is around. The sun is just starting to set, so you’ll likely be out there in the dark for some time if you don’t make it down to civilization in time.
Or you can stay here, risk him drugging you to make you sleep through the night, or worse, risk saying something to set him off and risk him seriously injuring you like you know he’s capable of doing.
He’s my brother, you think with deep, deep sorrow. He’s your brother, and in the cruelest twist of fate, he reminds you exactly of your father.
And that is why you can’t stay. That is why you have to do what you didn’t do when you were younger, because you knew no better back then.
That’s why you run.
You don’t know how far you’ll make it, you don’t know if you’ll even make it anywhere worthwhile, but you know you can’t stay here. You know your chances are higher out there, with the possibility of running into a ranger, someone you can actually trust, with access to a satellite phone. You can’t stay here because you can’t change him, just like you couldn’t change your father, no matter how badly some days you wished that you could.
Carter is too far gone, and it seems he has been since he first kidnapped you when you were kids. It seems he’s always been this way.
Tears stream from the corners of your eyes as you run, the wind whipping against your face as you follow the path down the road, hoping you’ll find someone, but knowing there’s likely no one up here, not even any neighbors -- at least not for miles.
It’s gut wrenching, and you wish you never knew he existed. You wish you never had this knowledge that you have a brother, that you’ve had one this whole time, and there was nothing you ever could’ve done to save him. He was doomed from the start -- and maybe you were too, just in a different way -- all because of your father.
You glance over your shoulder quickly, worried you hear footsteps, but no one is there. No one but the trees, covering you, encouraging you to get away. We’ll hide you, they say. We’ll keep you a secret.
+++
“Garcia, give me an update,” Hotch says, hoping the connection hasn’t dropped as the trees thicken around them, swallowing the team whole.
“Keep heading straight,” she says. “You’re closing in.”
Hotch motions to the team to keep moving, and everyone picks up speed. With every passing second, the sun drops lower and lower, and they know time is limited. It’s dangerous in the mountains at night, especially without proper gear, but Hotch can’t care about that. All he cares about is getting to you, getting to the house with heat signatures in it that Garcia found. That has to be you.
“Woah, hold on,” Garcia’s voice filters through Hotch’s ears. “That’s weird.”
He doesn’t slow his pace, but he asks, “What are you seeing?” Rossi’s head turns at Hotch’s panicked question.
“The satellite updated, there’s only one heat signature in the house.”
Hotch nearly falls flat on his face. “She--”
“No, no,” Garcia says, and she almost sounds like she’s smiling. “I think she’s running. There should be a road to your right, follow it around the bend.”
Hotch motions to everyone and receives nods in return.
And that’s when he hears it. Sobbing.
Your sobbing. It breaks his heart to realize that he knows the sound so vividly and distinctly, but it’s you. It has to be.
“Wait!” he shouts to the team and everyone halts, listening. A knowing look passes between them.
They hear it. Sobbing, and running.
+++
What are the odds, you think, of running down this mountain and running into your team as they’re trying to get to you? Is it really so crazy to think that they’re on their way to you just as you’re trying to get away?
You don’t care how delusional it is, you try to imagine it. It keeps your legs moving. It keeps your fear at bay as you keep looking behind you, fearing you hear Carter behind you, but no one is there.
Until you come crashing into something hard.
Arms wrap around you and for a moment you think it’s Carter, that he caught up to you and got in front of you, but then you take in what you’re feeling. A kevlar. Strong arms. A cologne that only Hotch wears.
“Aaron,” you cry, your entire body practically giving out in his arms. You bury your face in his neck as he holds you up and you take a deep breath, gripping him like he’ll slip away any second. Like he’s a figment of your imagination, another after effect of the tranquilizer, and hell, maybe he is, but you don’t care. If this is a hallucination, you’ll take it. It’s a nice one.
“I’ve got you,” Aaron whispers and it sounds so real.
You distantly hear him giving orders to the rest of the team, telling Morgan and Prentiss to go with Rossi to the house. Reid stays with you and Hotch, talking to someone over the phone, and you realize it’s JJ.
“Do you have her?” Garcia comes into Hotch’s ears, frantic.
“I’ve got her,” you hear him say, and then you hear him sniffle. “I’ve got her, Penelope, thank you.”
“Is that Pen?” you murmur, your face still buried in Aaron’s neck with no sign of moving. “I knew she’d know what to do.”
“I hear you, my angel, I know,” Garcia’s voice is thick with emotion.
With every passing second, you realize this has gone on for too long, so the only explanation is that it’s real. You lift your head from Aaron’s neck, peering up at him with wide, watery eyes.
“Aaron?” you whisper, one of your hands cupping his jaw, fingers flexing against his face. “Oh my god, you found me.”
Tears slip from his eyes, wetting your fingers against his cheek. One of his hands covers yours, squeezing. “I’ve got you, honey, it’s me. We found you.”
Your head falls forward onto his chest, the emotion of it finally crashing over you. Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, clinging to him ferociously now that you know he’s real, that this is real.
“I’m so sorry,” Aaron cries into your ear, arms wrapped around you just as tight.
“I never should’ve left,” you sob.
“I never should’ve let you,” he argues, muscles flexing, as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of you, to keep you against him forever. “We need to get you down the mountain,” he says, and without any hesitation, you feel him lifting you into his arms bridal style.
You have no energy in you to protest, and you don’t even want to. Your arms wrap around his neck for stability, and you let him carry all your weight.
Slowly, you hear Reid’s voice filter back in. “I see you guys, yeah, we’re coming down, Hotch’s got her, so we’ll be fine, we’ll meet you there.” A pause, then to Hotch he says, “The paramedics are waiting down there.”
“Good,” you hear and feel Hotch say. You keep your eyes closed, face turned toward his shirt as the world sways as he carries you down.
Your head grows dizzy as your body catches up with itself, the adrenaline finally waning, your heart finally settling now that you’re in Aaron’s arms.
You almost don’t hear the gunshot when it rings out, but your body tenses. The birds above scream and scatter.
You know what it means. Aaron does too. Neither of you say a word.
Once you’re down the mountain, Aaron reluctantly hands you off to the paramedics in the ambulance.
“Wait--” you reach out for him, thinking he’s walking away, but he sits down.
“I’m right here,” he says, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “They need to take care of you first, but I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You nod, a wave of nausea passing over you, causing your eyes to close.
“He gave her something--”
“He said it was a tranquilizer,” you manage to get out. “Don’t know what kind.”
All of it is a blur. They say something, you feel a prick in your arm and your breath hitches, remembering before, but whatever they give you calms you down. You flex your arm at your side, searching for Aaron’s, and you find it, fingers loosely lacing with his. Everyone moves around you, and soon the rumble of the engine starting filters into your ears.
As the ambulance heads for the hospital, you rest your eyes, though you’re more alert than any of them are expecting you to be. But it’s because you have one thing on your mind, and your brain won’t let the thought rest.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” you mumble after a while.
Aaron squeezes your hand. He doesn’t need to ask who you mean. “I’m sorry, honey.”
You nod, knowing it was inevitable. Knowing there was nothing you could do.
+++
You’ll hear this later from the team, but Carter was already gone when they made it inside the cabin.
They heard the gun go off while they were on the porch. Morgan had just shouted, “FBI!” when they heard it. When they knew.
Morgan found Carter in the living room. He likely saw you were gone, heard the FBI at his door, and knew he had two options. So he made a choice.
Part of the team is glad they weren’t the ones to do it, given the fact that they knew it was likely to end that way. But mostly they are sorry it had to end this way at all, knowing the pain it’ll cause you, and the years of guilt you’ll have to unpack.
+++
When you come back to yourself in the hospital, Aaron is sitting beside you, typing rapidly on his phone. You barely move and his eyes dart to you, phone immediately forgotten when he sees you’re beginning to stir.
“Hey,” he whispers, hands reaching for you, one stroking your face, the other resting on your arm. As if he’s still trying to be sure that you’re back in arms reach.
“Hey,” you echo, tears filling your eyes, the memories instantly coming back to you. “I’m--”
“No, no,” he shakes his head, eyes watering too. “I’m sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I wish I had found him sooner,” you cry, tears escaping as quickly as your eyes can fill with them. “I wish I had gotten to him before my dad did.”
“I know, honey, I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly, shifting closer in the chair, but it’s not close enough.
“Come here,” you move over on the bed. “Can you hold me?”
He doesn’t care that the bed isn’t exactly big enough for both of you. You’ve asked if he can hold you, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He’s in the bed and pulling you into him faster than anyone can tell him no.
You tuck your head into his chest, sobbing as you fist his shirt, careful of the IV in your arm. “He was too far gone,” you can barely get the words out, “or I would’ve-- I would’ve tried to help him--”
“Shhh,” Aaron cradles your head, breathing shaky as he listens to you. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”
You know that. You do. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less, knowing that everyone is gone now. Your dad, your mom, and now your brother, who you only found out existed just yesterday.
God, was it really just yesterday?
Somewhere in the midst of your cries, a nurse comes in to check your vitals. All are fine, aside from your heart being a little fast as you’re worked up from crying.
But Aaron calms you down. It takes a minute, but soon your breaths even out, and the tears slow.
“Where is everyone?” you sniffle.
“They’re outside in the waiting room,” he says. “Do you want me to get them?”
You nod against his chest. “Don’t leave though.”
“I’m not,” he assures you. “I’m just going to text Dave.”
The team was clearly waiting for the go ahead to come visit you because barely a minute after Hotch texts, there are soft knocks on your door.
“Come in,” Hotch calls out, helping you sit up against his side.
JJ, Emily, Spencer, Dave, and Derek (with Penelope on the phone) filter in quietly, smiling softly when they see you.
“Alright, here she is,” Derek says, passing his phone to you.
“Hey Pen,” you say.
“Hi my sweet angel,” she answers, voice cracking. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you nod, trying not to let the emotions pull you under again. “Movie night when I’m back?”
“Done,” she says instantly. “Your pick.”
Hugs are passed around, everyone squeezing you tight and fighting tears.
When Dave gets to you, you see he has tears in his eyes, and that’s enough to make you lose it again. You wrap your arms around him, sniffling into his neck.
“Thank you for finding me again,” you murmur.
“Anytime, kiddo,” Dave whispers, rubbing your back. “I hope we don’t have to do this again,” he teases, making you laugh, “but if we ever do, I’ll always find you.”
“I hope we don’t do this ever again,” Derek says sincerely. “That’s enough excitement for the next decade.”
“I agree,” JJ laughs, leaning her head on Emily’s shoulder.
“It’d be a statistical wonder if it happened again,” Reid says, rocking on the balls of his feet. “But please don’t.”
You laugh, wiping your face as you lean back into Aaron’s side, his arm curling around your shoulders protectively. “Don’t worry guys, I don’t plan on it.”
His arm tightens just a little, a silent promise that you hear clear as day. I don’t plan on letting you go again.
You watch as practically all of the profilers notice Hotch’s arm around you, the way he pulls you closer, and the way you don’t argue one bit. If you weren’t so exhausted from the last twenty-four hours, you’d crack some joke about the two of you having gotten over yourselves, or about how the two of you can slightly tolerate one another’s presence now.
You will tell them soon. There’s time. And it’ll make a good story, one to laugh about one day, once all the dust settles.
For now, you let your eyes slip closed as the conversation continues around you. A smile tugs at your lips when you hear their back and forth, and you think, they found me. In more ways than one.
~~~
a/n: little author's note for the end here: i suppose now is a good time to tell you guys that this fic was loosely based on family lore :) so very loosely i shall end with based on a true story
summary: small prompts, on how the xmen boys would be when given hickeys.
ps; i apologies if there is a few grammatical errors, as english isn't my first language.
enjoy!
Wade:
That man can’t resist keeping you in his sight and making sure to give you at least a kiss, or some small gesture of affection, before heading off to work.
This means his lips would form an adorable pout as he insists on leaning in. When you give in, his lips curl into a smirk, and before you can protest, you feel his hungry kiss.
Of course, it doesn't end there. His fingers slide around your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you onto his lap. "The boss can wait a little while," he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with a hunger that demands to feel his teeth on your skin. That's how his habit of leaving hickeys began. "Not until I'm done."
"Wadee," you tried to protest, glancing at the clock to remind him not to be late, but his priorities were elsewhere. You knew it when you felt his tongue tracing the crook of your neck, followed by the slow press of his teeth against your skin. He left a few more bruises, as if the ones from yesterday weren’t already enough for him.
"Shh…" he purred, his eyes darkened by lust and the passion in his voice. "I need to finish my little masterpiece." You rolled your eyes, letting out a slight chuckle, but before you knew it, a moan escaped your lips as he nipped harder with his teeth. "That's it, princess, I want to hear you moan," Wade whispered, the desire and need evident in his gaze.
He finally stopped, as always, to admire his work—several new hickeys on your neck. Just the sight of them made him bite his bottom lip. When your eyes met his, he leaned in for a sloppy kiss, leaving you breathless, with pouty lips and fluttering lashes. "Oh, so now the princess wants more? It's a shame I have to go to work. And so do you," he teased. Typical bastard, you thought to yourself.
Logan:
Unlike Wade, Logan isn’t the type to be vocal about what’s his. As the Wolverine, it wasn’t surprising when you ended up covered in hickeys. One time at the X-Men Labs, Logan immediately noticed a coworker checking you out. It wasn’t just the hickeys on your neck but also an outrageous comment that set him off. If those hickeys weren’t enough, you were in for a session where Logan would mark you as his—completely and everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
Naturally, he chose the Lab as the perfect place to do it. Despite his wild nature, Logan is surprisingly traditional, which might catch anyone, including you, off guard. But with his Wolverine instincts, he didn’t hesitate to grip your waist, pulling you up from your chair despite your protests, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist for support. "You really thought I’d let you leave work that early? That’s the kind of question that would make me feel ashamed, love."
Before you could say anything, his lips caught yours in a hungry kiss. His voice was hoarse, thick with the impatience and craving he’d been holding back all day—especially after seeing you with your coworker. When Logan’s jealousy flared, you knew there was no stopping him. “Logan…” you whispered, your soft, vulnerable voice a huge turn-on for him. He purred as he nodded at your call. “Yes, sweetheart?” he murmured, his gaze never leaving you. “I need you, so bad…” Your confession was all he needed. He began by nuzzling his head against your neck, his teeth sinking in without hesitation.
The neck was just the beginning for Logan; he wasn’t satisfied yet. He needed more, which meant leaning you over your Lab desk. Your blouse clung to your curves as his fingers, both gentle and eager, began unbuttoning your jacket. The typical work attire—a short skirt, sheer lace, and a blouse that matched the color of your nail polish—was what truly captivated him. Even his own attire seemed to complement yours. One of the many things he adored about you, he murmured, “Man, you look gorgeous…”
“You don’t look bad yourself either,” you echoed the words you’d whispered when you first met Logan. He adored this gesture, finding it endearing. Just moments before unbuttoning your blouse, he asked, “May I?” with the gentlemanly demeanor he always displayed. You smiled and nodded in response. “Since no one else will be coming to the Lab, my body is yours, Logan.”
That response alone pleased the Wolverine. As his fingers delicately and slowly unbuttoned your blouse, he took a moment to admire your breasts, beautifully outlined by the cup of your bra, before nuzzling his head against your stomach. His teeth sank into your flesh, leaving more hickeys than he had originally intended. “Now, I hope this will stop your coworker from looking…” he murmured.
Remy Lebeau:
Of the two, Remy is undoubtedly the most proud when it comes to showcasing his affection. His love language includes plenty of flirtation, and he makes sure that most of your hickeys are prominently displayed. He’s also quite vocal about it, especially when your best friend, Peter Maximoff, notices the sudden marks on your neck and expresses his concern. “Geez, Y/N, someone was feisty last night. I’m curious who the lucky one is.”
In no time, an arm wrapped around your shoulder, with Remy’s shadow looming over your petite frame and a smug look of pride on his face. “Ma chérie, you look a bit tired today,” he remarked, prompting you to shoot him a death glare. Despite your effort to remain professional, Remy’s public displays of affection made Peter gulp silently. “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he said. “See you at lunch?”
That question was an offer Remy was inclined to refuse, as he had other plans in mind. Everyone knew it, especially you, which surprised him when you agreed to join. His grip around your waist tightened, and a smile spread across his face. As polite as ever, he said, “It would be a shame if Y/N didn’t join us. But my chère has other plans. Sorry, mon cher Peter.”
Wanting to protest or suggest otherwise, it was clear that Remy had different plans. Sneaking out of work hours only seemed to please him more. As he planted a few kisses in the crook of your neck, his silhouette lingering behind you, Peter took the opportunity to excuse himself. He shared a glance with you, his expression teasingly reflecting his amusement at Gambit’s protective nature.
“Now, chère,” he said, his voice hoarse and his accent more pronounced. His fingers gently caressed your waist. “We have some unfinished business to attend to, don’t we?”
He wasn’t wrong. Your eyelids grew heavier as his teeth sank in, a soft moan escaping your lips just before he covered your mouth with his hand. “No, no, no,” he purred. “Not here.” Yet, he continued, and when he finally stopped, his fingers intertwined with yours, leaving you breathless. With a look of typical smugness, he found you adorable and said, “Alons, y.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
