The Merc You Regret Adding (SHA)



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09/13/2026 

Totally not conspiracy theories By Deadpool.......


🚨 DEADPOOL'S ROLEPLAY ILLUMINATI INVESTIGATION  PART I 🚨

Okay, nerds.

Lock the doors.

Close the blinds.

Put electrical tape over your webcam.

Turn Alexa toward the wall.

And for the love of chimichangas, DO NOT LET AXEL KNOW WE'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS.

I've spent the last 72 hours investigating the Roleplay Illuminati, which is impressive because I spent approximately 68 of those hours eating snacks and accusing random pigeons of being government informants.

But I have uncovered things.

Terrible things.

Stupid things.

Things that would make Mulder say, "Wade, maybe go outside."

📁 THEORY #1: THAT IS NOT AXEL.

Everybody keeps saying:

"Axel came back!"

Did he?

DID. HE.

Because I've been watching "Axel."

I've studied the walk.

The posture.

The suspicious inability to reach things on high shelves.

And I've reached the only scientifically responsible conclusion:

THAT IS TWO MIDGETS OPERATING AN EXTREMELY REALISTIC AXEL COSTUME.

One controls the legs.

One controls the upper torso.

Nobody controls the decision-making.

That's why sometimes Axel walks into a room and looks like he's arguing internally about which direction to go.

THEY'RE FIGHTING OVER THE CONTROLS.

WAKE UP, SHEEPLE.

The original Axel is probably sitting on a beach somewhere drinking margaritas while Axel² attempts to remember everyone's birthdays.

I have diagrams.

I have yarn.

I have seventeen blurry photographs.

I have been legally asked to stop.

I WILL NOT.

📁 THEORY #2: CIAAR & THE FENRIR INCIDENT

Now we get to Ciaar.

You innocent little cinnamon rolls probably think Ciaar is just living her life.

WRONG.

Why does she keep following Fenrir around with little plastic bags?

"She's cleaning up after him, Wade."

That's exactly what she wants you to think.

According to an anonymous source who absolutely isn't me wearing glasses and a fake mustache, Ciaar has been secretly collecting Fenrir's poop.

Why?

She's building something.

In her basement.

A statue.

A LIFE-SIZED FENRIR POOP STATUE.

I don't know whether she's sculpting Fenrir out of the poop or building a statue for Fenrir.

Frankly, I'm afraid to ask.

Current estimated completion:

63%.

Current basement smell:

Violation of several international treaties.

Fenrir knows.

I've seen his face.

That's not the face of an innocent dog.

That's the face of an accomplice.

📁 THEORY #3: EMMELINE'S STOCKPILE

Remember when toilet paper disappeared everywhere?

Everyone blamed panic buying.

Supply chains.

Hoarders.

Wrong.

EMMELINE.

I found the warehouse.

Okay, technically I found a locked closet and then imagined the warehouse, but STAY WITH ME.

Toilet paper.

Baby wipes.

Pudding.

SO. MUCH. PUDDING.

Why?

Her weird fetish parties.

I don't know what happens at these parties.

I don't want to know what happens at these parties.

I asked once.

She smiled.

I immediately apologized and backed out of the room.

My current theory is that somewhere beneath Emmeline's house exists a velvet-lined bunker containing 14,000 rolls of Charmin, enough baby wipes to clean a rhinoceros, and an entire refrigerated wall labeled:

PUDDIN' — DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS INVITED.

There are some mysteries even Deadpool doesn't investigate.

Mostly because I have boundaries.

Very strange boundaries.

But boundaries.

📁 THEORY #4: EMPRESS SNOW'S ORPHAN DISTRIBUTION NETWORK

This one goes all the way to the top.

Empress Snow keeps adopting orphans.

Admirable?

Heartwarming?

Suspiciously wholesome?

EXACTLY.

Because where do they go afterward?

Malls.

All around the world.

She's not abandoning them.

She's DEPLOYING THEM.

Mall of America.

One orphan.

West Edmonton Mall.

Two orphans.

Some shopping center in Germany?

BOOM. ORPHAN.

I believe Snow is creating an international network of mall-based child operatives.

Why?

Nobody questions a kid sitting near the food court.

Meanwhile they're observing everything.

Orange Julius.

Build-A-Bear.

Cinnabon.

INTELLIGENCE-GATHERING HOTSPOTS.

You think that child is waiting for Mom?

WRONG.

He's reporting directly to the throne.

"Target entered Hot Topic. Repeat: target entered Hot Topic."

Empress Snow isn't building a family.

SHE'S BUILDING A VERY SMALL, VERY ADORABLE CIA.

So let's review.

Axel: Two tiny dudes in a trenchcoat situation, except the trenchcoat has a face.

Ciaar: Building the world's least hygienic Fenrir monument.

Emmeline: Personally responsible for the international toilet-paper shortage and possibly running pudding parties that I refuse to Google.

Empress Snow: Deploying orphan sleeper agents into shopping malls worldwide.

Coincidence?

Probably.

But that's exactly what the ROLEPLAY ILLUMINATI wants you to think.

I've connected the evidence.

I've connected the dots.

I've connected several dots that weren't even on the same piece of paper.

My apartment currently contains ninety-seven feet of red yarn.

And somewhere...

right now...

Axel is reading this.

Or rather,

the top Axel is reading it while the bottom Axel handles transportation.

👁️ 🔺 👁️

STAY VIGILANT.

TRUST NOBODY.

QUESTION EVERYTHING.

And if Ciaar asks whether you've seen Fenrir recently—

DO NOT GO INTO THE BASEMENT.

— Deadpool

Roleplay Illuminati Investigator
Conspiracy Enthusiast
Banned From Three Office Depots for Buying Suspicious Amounts of Red Yarn

NEXT INVESTIGATION:

WHO THE HELL IS DJ CHARMING ACTUALLY DJING FOR? The answer surprised me too....

07: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  |  

05/30/2026 

Rules for Roleplaying With Your Favorite Degenerate – Yes, I’m Watching You Read This

(leans into the screen, mask slightly crooked, katana resting on one shoulder like a baseball bat)
Hey there, you beautiful rule-reading degenerate! Welcome to my little corner of the multiverse. Name’s Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka the Merc with the Mouth, aka that guy your therapist warned you about. Before we start slicing, dicing, and doing unspeakable things to bad guys and maybe each other, let’s get the boring but necessary stuff out of the way. I’ll try to make it entertaining so you don’t fall asleep and miss the good parts.

And hey just in case you haven't figured it out little guy. I use ( ) To describe when I'm breaking the forth wall. See how nice I am trying to not overloud your tiny little porn filled brain? No need to thank me, it's a thankless job. But if you are shot girl I wouldn't mind a foot pic. Oh or if you that Kyle guy at best buy dick pic but make it tasteful. Thank you. Now back to your railers schedule shenanigans. 

Rule 1: This is all for fun, baby.
Nothing I say, do, stab, explode, or describe here is personal. I might call you a magnificent pain in the ass, rail your OC six ways to Sunday, or turn your favorite character into glittery red mist  it’s all roleplay, folks. Take it personal and I’ll just regenerate while laughing at you. This ain’t therapy though God knows some of you need it. It’s entertainment. Like Deadpool & Wolverine but with way more questionable life choices.

Rule 2: Life happens.
I get busy. You get busy. Sometimes I’m out regenerating from a bad date or hunting down the last decent chimichanga in the city. Don’t blow up my notifications like an impatient ex. Respect the wait time or I’ll start sending you passive aggressive memes at 3 AM. Patience is a virtue and I have none, so you gotta carry it for both of us.

Rule 3: No one-liners.
This ain’t a drive-thru. Give me something juicy to work with. If your reply is “Deadpool nodded” or “Okay,” I’m gonna ignore it harder than Wolverine ignores his emotions. However, if we’re in full chaotic goof mode and you hit me with a perfect one liner? That shit’s gold. I’ll allow it.

Rule 4: This RP is straight-up mature.
We’re talking violence, blood fountains, drugs, filthy language, sex, gore, and yeah sexual violence if the scene calls for it. I’m unkillable, pansexual, and have zero filter. Want me to describe exactly what I do with Sprinkles the Unicorn plushy after hours? Too bad. That’s classified. It’s kinky though. Very sparkly. If you’re squeamish, this ain’t the playground for you, buttercup.
Rule 5: Congrats, you actually read this far.
Most people skip rules like they’re terms and conditions. If you’re a goodie two-shoes who follows every bullet point perfectly we might not vibe. But if you’re here like Nicolas Cage in National Treasure, frantically searching for hidden clues and Easter eggs? Respect. There was supposed to be a cookie for making it this far, but I ate it. Sorry. You get a sturdy virtual handshake and a solid attaboy. You go, girl. Or guy. Or whatever glorious flavor of chaos you are.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way.
(breaks the fourth wall completely, staring directly at you)
You still here? Good. Means you might actually be fun. Hit me up, slide into my DMs, or reply to my starter. Let’s make some beautiful, bloody, wildly inappropriate memories together. Just remember I break the fourth wall, the laws of physics, and probably a few bones yours or mine, depending on the mood.
Your friendly neighborhood unkillable degenerate,
Deadpool ❤️

P.S. Yes, I’m watching you read this right now. Creepy, right?
P.P.S. The unicorn plushy says hi.

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