Deadpool X Boku No Hero Academia

A guy in the darkness

{"A guy in the darkness"?}

-Yeah?...-

{What's with the lazy names for the chapters? It's like you arn't even trying}

-W-WEll, I'm not that good at naming chapters okay?!-

{Sure, sure}

===

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" I bellowed at the mysterious figure, my hands instinctively reaching for my katanas, only to find an empty space where they should have been strapped to my back.

As I cautiously retreated, the shadowy figure began to advance, gradually coming into focus. It wasn't just anyone; it was him. No, not just him – the personification of my never-ending nightmare.

"Ah, Wilson, I had hoped your memory would be as sharp as those swords of yours. You and I, such inseparable pals, aren't we?" he taunted, his voice dripping with a sinister familiarity that sent shivers down my spine.

"How could you forget the good times, Wilson?" he sneered, the twisted grin on his face revealing a malevolence that cut through the air.

But it wasn't just any twisted grin; it was the unmistakable signature smirk of Ajax or should I say "Francis".

===

"Oh, I see you haven't forgotten me, Wilston," Ajax said, a maniacal grin stretching across his face.

"Yeah, maybe because you fucking ruined my life?!" I shouted back at him.

"Please, did you—no, do you even have a life? I mean, you're just a little sad experiment who has gone wrong," he taunted, his eye twitching.

Ajax slowly approached, chuckling madly. "Oh, the Doctor will be pleased when I tell him I found it!"

He advanced closer, and closer until his grip tightened around me.

(C'mon, Wade! Fight back!) Yellow yelled desperately, attempting to free us from this nightmare. Despite knowing I could take him down, I froze—I couldn't shake off the memories. I can't... No..."NO!" I yelled, unable to believe I was back in this twisted lab. "HAHAHA!" I screamed, laughter tinged with desperation as tears formed. "HAHaha..." I can't face him, can't be a failed experiment, or I'll face punishment. I despise the workshop—the blood-stained walls, the tortured screams, the taste of choking on your own blood—it's all too much. It's not nice in the workshop.

"The smell of burned flesh... It's not nice there. The view of nothing as your eyes are closed shut, trying to believe that 'I'm not there... I'm not there... I'm not here... I'm not here...'"

"Wilston? Wilston? Mr. Wilston, are you listening?" the nurse asked, pulling me back to reality.

"Oh, AH yeah, sorry! Can you repeat it?" I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, but you have terminal cancer-..."

"You know what I like best about shepherds?" The man started, holding a miniature shepherd statue. "Pride. A shepherd thinks he's better than you. More loyal, more courageous, more trustworthy... And he's right on all counts. Especially in your case. Dog is a miracle on four legs."

He lights a cigarette with the statue. "'God' spelled backward is 'Dog,' son. That's a fact. You can look it up."

"But, no matter how you rearrange the letters of your name, it always spells the same thing... 'Trash' Trash I wouldn't let my dogs do their business on, let alone waste time flapping my gums with. However, my people tell me you're more cultivated than most of your mercenary breed. Trash with potential. That true?"

"... I'm no canine, General... But I'm not trash."

"Outstanding. Let's tour the big doghouse, son."

"Hmmm. I had a Pekingese once, named Snowball. Caught the cancer in her left ovary. My wife's fault – That we had a Pekingese, not the cancer. The vet wanted to cut it out, but then she would've been worthless. What good's a pure-bred lapdog you can't breed? We got two litters out of her before she passed on. A horrible way to go... But she took it like a shepherd. See, son? It always goes back to dogs. You can learn a thing or two from Snowball. Not that you'll have to worry about the cancer for much longer... They work miracles here, boy — See what I mean...? Miracles." He gestured to the sky, revealing a man flying beautifully. "Proper. Man can transcend his station, son. Man can climb up out of the muck and fly with the angels."

"Vindicator is just the beginning. The first. What they've cooked up since is, well... You'll see. Better yet... You'll be... presuming you have the will and the skill to evolve. So? Have we reached a parting of the ways, or has our adventure together just begun?" he asked.

"... I'm ready whenever you are, General," the other man with blond flowing hair and blue eyes, wearing a green military uniform, replied with a smile.

"Congratulations, Wilston... Spoken like a true shepherd."

The acrid taste of blood filled my mouth, and sudden pain radiated through my skull. BAMM! Ajax's fist collided with my face, snapping me out of the haunting grip of the flashback. The world around me morphed from the memories to the harsh reality of the present.

"Wilston, are you there, little shit?" Ajax asked, laughing menacingly.

(Hold it. What the hell writer? Can't you be original? Telling us Deadpool's origin story in flashbacks while fighting Francis? It's literally the plot of the Deadpool movie.)

-B-But I'm telling the comic origin story with a little flair of ✨Me✨-

(Well that's worst!)

-Yeah I know... The comic version is way more horrible...-

(No, I don't care about this shit it's the "You" flair.)

-Have you ever considered being more polite?-

(No.)

-:(-

===

End of the chapter!

Edit: Hey, I've been noticing something about my chapters lately – they're getting shorter and losing that Deadpool-esque vibe. What's your take on it? Do you prefer this newer style, or should I go back to writing it like I did at the beginning? Just curious to get your thoughts!