𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘 │ [M!Reader x Tatsumaki]

↠[Desperado Vigilante]

   [Y/N] - Your Name
[L/N] - Last Name
I
["Talking"]
["SCREAMING"]
["Whispering"]
["Thinking"]

Hey.

I won't be bothering y'all too much since the Authors Note kinda already did that, so I

won't be getting too much in the way of your reading. Just wanted to let you know that I hope you enjoy this fanfic, and feel free to point out any mistakes that you notice. English is not my first languag, blah blah blah, all that stuff that you guys already know. So... Yeah. Also feel free to leave any comment, I love reading them.

Hope you enjoy!

<<<<<< I >[---]< I >>>>>>

Much can be assumed of the world.

That it is boring, or perhaps very exciting. That it is safe, or perhaps even extremely dangerous. It all depends on one's view if we're speaking mentally, but realistically, it all depends on where one currently finds themselves in the face of this gigantic, beautiful Earth. Some might live in a place where no such thing as danger exists, or in a place where danger is the most prominent problem which they need to survive.

However, in the world danger is always present. No matter where or when, there will always be something or someone out there who is dangerous. Whether that is because of their desires, a wish to conquer and destroy, or their lust for power, an endless wish to continuously grow stronger and stronger so they may strike down anything and anyone in their path. Or even for greed, be it for riches, or pure strength.

There is no such thing as true safety. Everywhere, at every point in time, danger and everything it brings will exist, for better, or for worse. It brings with it calamity, destruction, and wonderful melodies. From the rays of the glorious sunshine that send down such a blood-red light, causing the animals to retreat to the shadows out of sight. Arid winds that blow across the mountains giving flight to the birds of prey.

And one man knew that better than anyone.

In a place where many would consider dangerous, away from the eyes of good-doers or Heroes, he stood. By himself, leaning against the counter of the shady bar in which he remained alone, long ago choosing to rot by himself in the depths of this moldy, old place. The weak arrangement of hold lights that barely held on the roof would swing back and forth with their orangish-yellow glow blinking in and out nonstop.

Facing the wall which was filled with various drinks from the strongest of alcohols to mere fruit juices, the man brought the shot cup to his mouth. The muddled sugar cube in the glass with four dashes of bitter, a small drop of soda water and finished with bourbon. Accompanied, of course, by a large ice cube. By his side on the counter laid his cover, a mask which he had long been used to keeping in his face.

Calmly, the man would bring the cup to his mouth and sip from it. His smirk spread from side-to-side as he did so, and slowly lowered the cup down to the stool. He would remain there, his eyes closed, immovable and unshaken. Humming, he would feel the ground shake, rumble as if a gigantic earthquake harshly shook the floor beneath him. Everything began to tremble, and loud booms echoed outside.