(I hate writing 4th-wall breaker, don't even dream of naming another chapter in the future you fucking radioactive avocado)
"Aw~, you love me~"
.
.
.
There was a rule, unspoken, but sacred, among the people who lived in this half-forgotten district of New York: don't mess with the bald guy's building.
Nobody said it out loud. But they all felt it.
Ever since the Battle of New York, something strange had settled here. The Avengers weren't watching this place.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had cordoned off the area, but no one enforced it. Surveillance drones kept shorting out, and anyone who entered with a gun or bad intentions usually left limping... or didn't leave at all.
So when a strange pop of distortion appeared above Saitama's roof, ripping open like a jello-colored tear in space-time, there was nobody around to stop it.
A booted leg kicked through first, followed by a red-and-black figure flipping out of the rift like it was a stage entrance.
Deadpool landed in a superhero pose, looked around, and immediately frowned. "What the hell? This isn't Tijuana." He stood up, dusted himself off, and unslung a duffel bag from his shoulder.
Then he noticed the apartment building across the street.
Then he saw the security camera, crudely rigged with duct tape, mounted to the corner.
And then he turned... staring directly at the reader. "....Wait a second. Am I in a fanfic? HEY READER! LOVE YA~"
(Just shut the fuck up)
"Aw~, someone's mad already~"
He blinked.
Tilted his head.
Sniffed the air. "...This reeks of crossover energy. Smells like... anime shampoo, New York hot dogs, and a hint of fourth-wall frag grenade."
He started walking toward the building, whistling Careless Whisper for absolutely no reason.
Inside apartment 4C, Gwenpool sat upside-down on Saitama's couch, pink socks kicking in the air, her oversized hoodie practically swallowing her.
"Cindy, I'm bored," she whined, dragging out the word like she was a Disney princess being denied ice cream.
Silk didn't look up from her phone. "Then go fight something."
"I would, but Saitama won't spar, Rudeus is back in the anime world, and the last time I tried fighting that hobgoblin cosplay guy, he cried."
"You broke his skateboard."
"It was not a skateboard. It had jets."
Cindy just hummed in response.
Then....
A loud smack echoed from the hallway.
Both girls paused.
Another crash. Louder this time. And then...
"Knock-knock, losers! It's everyone's favorite morally ambiguous regeneration fetishist!"
(....ew....)
Gwenpool sat bolt upright.
Silk facepalmed.
Deadpool burst through the front door, not kicked, not opened, burst, wearing a plastic tiara, holding a rubber chicken in one hand and a katana in the other.
"🎶 Hello from the other s̶i̶d̶e̶ d̶i̶m̶e̶n̶s̶i̶o̶n̶ 🎶," he sang, dramatically.
Gwenpool's eyes went wide. "W-Wade?!"
Deadpool froze, eyes zeroing in on her. "Wait. Wait. WAIT. Gwenpool?!"
They both gasped.
Pointed at each other.
"You exist in this universe?!"
Deadpool lunged. Gwenpool met him halfway. They embraced like old frenemies who once tried to kill each other and then bonded over tacos.
Cindy slowly slid down into the couch cushions like she could vanish from the scene entirely.
Deadpool pulled back from the hug. "I thought you were a discontinued Funko Pop line!"
"I thought you got erased in the reboot!"
"I did! Twice! Still here, though. Turns out popularity's a superpower."
They cackled.
Saitama walked out of the kitchen, holding a kettle. "Who the hell is this."
Deadpool turned, gasped again, and dropped the rubber chicken.
"You're real?! Oh my sweet merciful Capcom-DLC-crossover-god, you're real!" He stumbled forward like a fan meeting his idol. "Saitama. OPM. The Bald Cape. The Murder Fist. Sir Punchalot. OHMYGODLETMEHAVEYOURAUTOGRAPH."
He pulled out a sharpie.
Saitama stared. "No."
"Oh. He's shy." Deadpool looked at Gwenpool. "He's shy. Isn't he adorable?"
"He's emotionally constipated," Gwenpool said cheerfully.
Saitama turned to walk back into the kitchen. "Lock the door when you leave."
"I'm not leaving!" Deadpool plopped down beside Gwenpool like a ten-year-old at a sleepover.
"This place is way more fun than Earth-616. No rent, no Thanos, and apparently the noodles here are to die for." He poked the side of the kettle. "Is that miso? Please say it's miso."
Gwenpool grinned. "We got curry flavor too."
"Sold. I'm moving in."
Cindy groaned into a pillow.
Saitama peeked from the kitchen. "No."
"Too late!" Deadpool yelled. "You can't stop me. I've already shipped us on Tumblr."
"Who's Tumblr," Saitama said flatly.
Gwenpool reached into her backpack. "He's serious, y'know. He brought his own merch."
Deadpool tossed a Deadpool-shaped plushie onto the table.
Saitama stared at it. Then at the man-child duo now arguing over which one of them was more popular in alternate timelines.
"I'm going for a walk."
He grabbed his coat and walked out without another word.
Cindy watched the door close, then turned to Gwen and Deadpool.
"I swear, if either of you replaces the milk again with orange soda, I'm moving into a Stark tower air vent."
Deadpool saluted. "No promises."
Outside, as Saitama walked down the steps, hands in pockets, he looked up at the sky.
"...Great," he muttered. "4 already, and 2 of them is crazy...."
...
Deadpool was already in the kitchen by the time Gwen found him again, standing on the counter with two frying pans strapped to his back like medieval shields and a spatula gripped like a rapier.
"Wade, get off the counter," she said, hands on her hips.
He pointed dramatically with a fork. "Not until I slay the evil dragon of Bland Breakfasts!"
"You put Pop-Tarts in the toaster and left the foil on them. That's not slaying, that's arson."
From the living room, Cindy yelled, "And if you blow up the kitchen, I'm feeding you to Hulk."
Deadpool dramatically clutched his chest like she'd wounded him. "My heart, my pancreas, everything hurts. You used to be fun, Cindy!"
"I was never fun. You're just loud."
Gwen grabbed a broom and pointed it at Deadpool like a fencing foil. "Okay, Wade, listen. You can't just move in. This is Saitama's place. He likes peace, quiet, and not being tackled by mouthy assassins with Looney Tunes energy."
Deadpool twirled his spatula. "So does that mean you're kicking me out?"
"I'm saying we need rules."
"I'm allergic to rules."
"I know," Gwen muttered. "That's why you wear the same suit every day."
"Ooooh," he gasped, then leaned over the edge of the counter, "low blow, Gwenny! You wound me, fair maiden."
She whacked him with the broom.
Deadpool toppled off the counter with a loud clatter and a thud that somehow managed to knock over two chairs and one rice cooker.
"...I'm okay!" he yelled from the floor. "I landed on my plot armor!"
Cindy muttered from under her blanket cocoon, "I should've joined the X-Men instead."
Fifteen minutes later, Gwenpool and Deadpool were both seated at the kitchen table, a tentative ceasefire between them.
Between them sat a box of Lucky Charms, three half-burned waffles, and something that may have once been an omelet but now looked like a crime scene.
"So," Deadpool said, chin in hands, "what are we doing in this universe, anyway? Random anime boys, grumpy bald guy with fists of doom, and you two living in a building that looks like a sitcom set. What gives?"
Gwen sipped orange juice. "Okay, real talk? I think we're in a multiversal fusion fanfic."
Deadpool blinked.
Then broke into the most unhinged grin imaginable.
"YESSSSSSSSS," he shouted, pumping both fists. "That explains everything! That explains why Hulk tried to rent a scooter from Mario last week!"
Cindy: "That wasn't Mario. That was a guy in a hat who just sounded like Charles Martinet."
Deadpool kept going. "Gwen, you beautiful page-turning meta genius, that means we're building a team, right? Like an interdimensional squad of overpowered weirdos and sarcastic lunatics?"
"That's the theory," Gwen said, reaching for another waffle.
"Then I demand, no, insist that we go on a recruitment arc!" He leapt onto the table. "We'll travel the multiverse! We'll gather the coolest fighters, mystics, edgelords, and misunderstood badasses! We'll call it—"
"Don't say it."
"—Deadpool's Dirty Dozen!"
Cindy threw a spoon at him.
Gwen sighed. "Look, the actual plan is to find people who can help Saitama. He's not from here, and there's something screwy going on with this version of New York. People are disappearing. Villains are mutating. Rifts are opening all over the place."
Deadpool tilted his head. "So like, fun Saturday afternoon comic book chaos?"
"Sure. Until it starts turning people into monsters."
That sobered him, slightly.
"....Okay. Fair. So what's the play? We track down another hero?"
"Yep," Gwen said, standing and brushing crumbs off her hoodie. "And since Saitama wandered off again, probably to get discounted leeks, it's up to us to find the next recruit."
Cindy looked up. "You're seriously bringing him with you?"
"Hey!" Deadpool shouted, pointing at himself. "I'll have you know I am essential comic relief and highly marketable."
Gwen smiled. "He's also too chaotic to leave unsupervised."
Two hours later, Gwenpool and Deadpool were standing outside a shabby old dojo tucked between a laundromat and a pawn shop in Chinatown.
Rain sprinkled gently from the clouds, making the neon signs flicker like something out of a cyberpunk daydream.
"...This the place?" Deadpool asked, bouncing on his heels.
"Yup," Gwen said, looking up at the painted sign: Rand Martial Arts.
"Sounds like a terrible brand of chewing gum."
The door opened before she could reply, and a man stepped out.
Barefoot, lean, wearing a dark green shirt and loose black pants. Calm eyes. Steady hands.
Danny Rand, the Iron Fist.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Gwen raised a hand in awkward greeting. "Hi. We're... putting together a team."
Deadpool stepped forward. "Hi, yes, hello, I'm Wade Wilson, and I'm here to offer you an exciting opportunity in punching monsters, reality-breaking nonsense, and eating breakfast foods that violate health codes."
Danny stared.
Then slowly turned his gaze back to Gwen.
"... Is this real?"
"Oh yeah," Gwen said. "It's stupidly real."
Danny sighed. "Come in."
Deadpool clapped. "YES. I've always wanted to hang out with someone who punches dragons."
Gwen muttered, "He's gonna punch you if you keep talking."
"I'd deserve it."