Deadpool X Boku No Hero Academia

The End Of The Day

It was a quiet night, the town wrapped in a hushed slumber. The deserted streets echoed with the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city. Closed shops stood in silent anticipation, their windows reflecting the cool moonlight. Amid the darkness, a lone building defied the night's tranquility — UA High, its H-shaped structure casting shadows on the deserted courtyard.

In the heart of the academy, a vivid yellow light spilled from the principal's office window. The soft glow painted a warm contrast against the cold night. The brisk breeze carried the scent of damp earth, whispering secrets through the empty corridors.

"So, how was it?" a familiar voice chimed in as a sigh left another's mouth.

Aizawa, with his usual dryness, replied, "It went as planned, except Mr. Might here decided to play spectator." He gestured towards All Might.

"Hey! No need to blame anyone!" All Might retorted defensively.

"I'll ask this because I wasn't there, so do you know yet which student is-" Yamada started.

"Deadpool?" Aizawa finished Yamada's sentence. "No, not yet anyway."

"Well, did anybody stand out?" Yamada asked.

"Did you really ask if someone stands out in UA?" Aizawa answered, teasing Yamada.

"You shouldn't think too much about who is vigilant," Nezu interjected while sipping his green tea. "After all, he is a mercenary; his job is to lie."

"Hold it!" Yamada said quickly. "Do you think he's still a mercenary now that he's training to be a hero?"

"Well, this is just an assumption, but the boy didn't have any interest in being a hero, and he needs to put food on his table somehow," Nezu said, now showing emotion. "It's sad that some young kids out there need to work in such troubled jobs just to have what others get so easily..." Nezu sighed.

===

As the day was dragging its sorry self towards its inevitable demise, I thought, "Why not swing by The Hellhouse before heading home? I'm sure as hell not waiting to come to UA tomorrow," I declared, casually tossing the aluminum wrapper of my burrito

(Well, at least we have one friend!)

"Yeah, that's right. I have a friend." I beamed proudly.

{And we beat Bakugou's ass!}

"Finally! You guys are making me feel good instead of teasing me!" I grinned, relishing the voices in my head telling me I'm the hero UA deserves.

I strolled into the bar like I owned the place, as one does when your life is a chaotic mess. And, of course, I had changed into my Deadpool suit in the Mexican joint – gotta keep up appearances, right?

"So, how was your first day?" Weasel asked, handing me a juice box with a pink straw. Classy.

"Meh," I replied, taking a sip.

{That is a good juice right there.}

"I always wondered how UA was," Weasel mused.

"It's like an endless P.E class," I deadpanned.

"Wait, really?" He looked at me, dubious.

"Yup," I said, popping the 'p'. "First day and all we did was a freakin' physical exam. But hey, I'm not complaining; at least it wasn't a math exam." I shivered dramatically at the thought.

"Heh, yeah," Weasel chuckled.

"Did I miss anything important?"

"Nope, just some boring ol' jobs: Assassination, assassination, fighting some weird monster, assassination..."

"Oh, okay. Wait, did you say monster?!" I perked up.

"Yeah? Why?" Weasel looked confused.

"Well, one of my last gig way back in chapter one was to fight a monster, and it escaped! You think it could be the same one?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Soooo helpful," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Well, I gotta go!" I announced, checking the time.

"Byeeeeeeeeeeeee!" I yelled, making a mad dash towards the exit. Because when you're Deadpool, dramatic exits are a must.

===

As I waltzed into my humble abode, the smell of dinner wafting through the air, I spotted two plates on the table – one for Al and one for yours truly. "Aw, Al, you're spoiling me," I chuckled, reveling in the domestic bliss.

And then, out of nowhere, she emerged from behind me and smacked me on the head with a frying pan. "FUCKKKKK!" I exclaimed, massaging my throbbing cranium.

"I'm not 'spoiling' you," Al declared, doing air quotes like she was auditioning for a community theater production. "I'm making you dinner so you won't kill or torture me." She crossed her arms, looking like she meant business.

"What? I would never," I protested, attempting to brush it off with a charming smile.

"Yes, you would."

"Yes, I would... ANYWAY, what's for dinner?" I asked, taking a seat at the table, trying to change the subject.

"Broccoli and asparagus," Al deadpanned.

"Haha! You're hilarious, Al! Now, what's really for dinner?" I quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not joking."

"Wait, what? Al, I PAY for those groceries with my hard-earned money, and you make THIS?" I pointed dramatically at the broccoli in disguise.

"Did you even try it?" Al questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I already know it's gross," I retorted sharply.

"You are such a man-baby," Al shot back.

"And you are...old!"

===

{We got smacked with a frying pan again}