Monster (Marvel Male Reader)

Origin of a Boy

New York City. The City that never sleeps. The Big Apple. Mm. Apples. You could go for an apple right about now. When was the last time you ate again? Oh. Sorry. Getting sidetracked before the story even starts. Anyhow, New York City. The only home you've ever known. All your life you've been trapped in the endless maze of tall buildings. You've seen it all. Homeless, thugs, rats robbing people. Honestly the last one is a tad bit more impressive than the other two.

You've been on your own for as long as you could remember. The alleys became your bedroom, the streets were your playground, and rooftops were your living room. Sure you had to fight to survive almost every single waking day of your existence, but it was nice to have the kind of freedom you had.

Hell's Kitchen was off limits though. You learned that after witnessing a blind guy beat up some asshole at a cafe.

Sure life wasn't perfect, you were prefer to have a home with a loving family, but it was yours and you loved it. Hell, you had front row seats to every super-powered battle in town! The police would try to get everyone to leave but you just took to the roofs to watch. You've seen it all at this point. Alien invasion, civil wars, imposters, even a wizard. That was weird. You had to recall if you did LSD that morning when you saw everything get shifted around.

Needless to say, you were having the time of your life. This didn't come without it's fair share of difficulties however. Hunger was at the top of that list for most of the year while staying warm was an issue during winter. Police were always looking to take you down as well since you were a minor on the streets and whatnot. Then there were the thugs who would always try to rob you when you had nothing. By all means, you should be dead.

You've never been to school, never had any meaningful relationship, never felt a parent's warmth, and never had any friends. Well, there was one. The old man who taught you everything you knew. He called himself the Creator. You called him Old Man.

The Old Man was the only one to really look out for you even when you didn't want him to. He would sacrifice half his food just make sure you would eat, would give you his coat during winter, and even taught you how to fight. He a old WWII vet who had ended up getting the shit end of the stick. Poor guy. He did give you the best advice you've ever been given however.

You had been practicing on a roof at the age of 13 with him watching. You were trying to keep yourself up with one arm like he had showed you. You were getting a hang of it until you found yourself falling face first into the gravel. You stood up frustrated and ended up almost punching a nearby water tower. Old Man stopped you before you could.

Creator: Are you giving up?

You looked at him unamused. You knew the answer.

Y/N: No.

Creator: Then don't go loosing your temper. Your anger will do things to you that you will regret.

You sighed and returned to the vent you were practicing on. You tried to get back on your hands but found it difficult to. You let out a frustrated cry and slammed your fists down onto the metal.

Y/N: We've been at this all day! Why can't I get it? Why is it so hard?!

The Old Man just smiled before walking to you. He took a seat on the vent and looked up at the sky.

Creator: You see kid, it's not about rather it's easy or hard. It's about rather or not you're willing to push yourself to do it.

He then looked down at the streets below.

Creator: You want to know what separates a Hero from a Villain?

What was he on about?

Creator: A Hero helps people even though it's hard to. A Villain hurts others because it's easy.