Pools of love (Gwenpool x male reader)

Caged

Y/n, America and Gwen stare in at the scene before then in a mixture of disgust and intrigue. Watching the slaves build the Great Pyramid of Giza.

Gwenpool: So what, this universe never developed past Ancient Egypt?

Y/n turns to America, completely ignoring his girlfriend.

Y/n: America, we have to help these people.

America Chavez: Y/n, I'm sorry but we can't significantly interfere with alternate universes.

Y/n: What, we can't free slaves but we can stop Adaptoid invasions?

America Chavez: Look, it's not right I know that. But we can't change history! Especially when it's not even ours! As much as it sucks: invasions are a dime a dozen, we're talking about a historical event.

Y/n: Gwen, back me up here!

Gwenpool: I... Y/n, she knows what she's talking about.

Y/n: What about Man-Thing? Or Ægon? They're multiversal beings, how do you think they feel about being caged?

Gwenpool: Y/n, they're not here right now.

Y/n: I can't believe this! Mojo had you in a coliseum fighting for your freedom! How can you be on her side?

He does not even wait for her response. In a fit of rage and self-righteousness: he leaves the girls in the desert and starts towards the civilisation. America moves to stop him but quickly regains the nausea present from the previous Earth.

Gwenpool: Holy shit!

America faints, face-planting into the desert sands. As Gwen rushes to aid her: Y/n takes it as an opportunity to create more distance between the girls, making his way towards the civilisation. Using tricks he learnt in the thirty years of his life which were erased: he manages to avoid detection and sneak into the village.

Gwenpool: Well this is just great, America. You're unconscious, Y/n gone to do God knows what and I'm talking to myself!

Obviously, she gets no response. To break the void of silence: she growls and kicks at the dunes.

Gwenpool: You're making me beat! Up! Sand!

Elsewhere, Y/n dunks his head into a river he finds in order to rehydrate himself. Once satisfied: he whips his face out from the stream and falls back onto his rear, breathing heavily as he sits. He is quickly taken out of his stupor when a lightning bolt strikes the ground behind a nearby hut.

Y/n: What the...

He looks up, his gaze lands on a feminine figure with blue skin and flowing white hair. Upon her head was an intricate sort of black tiara on her head with a matching staff which glistened with energy. Intricate tattoo-like markings ran down from her forehead to her midriff. The final noticeable detail was her eyes. They were pure blue light, no pupils, no irises. As she spoke: he realised with horror that he recognised her voice.

Storm: Egyptians! It is I, the horseman of famine.

The folk near Y/n fall to their knees in respect, he quickly does the same to avoid suspicion.

Storm: Your dedication has pleased Apocalypse. As a result...

She points her staff at one of the many fields of crops in the area, a small local aliased rainstorm appears over the crops, growing them at impossible rates. As if watching a time lapse.

Storm: All of your crops will be fertilised an an increased rate. However, it has come to my attention that one of you has not been contributing.