You are Jordyn Parker, Peter Parker’s older sister of four years. Your parents were raised by the Red Skull shortly after Peter was born, and you two were raised by your Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was killed by that one scientist dude, and idk, you decide how this fits into the MCU timeline, I don’t feel like doing all the math right now, but your parents are dead, May and Ben are dead, and before Peter joined the Avengers but AFTER he got his powers you went missing. Peter then joined the Avengers and fought Captain America and his dumb hot bsf and End Game happened and PIETRO IS ALIVE AND SO IS NATASHA AND TONY AND EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND NO ONE DIED (besides Peter’s parents and May/Ben sorry not sorry). Little does ANYONE know you were kidnapped by HYDRA, used as a test subject for their concoctions and devices, tortured and experimented on. You learned how to fight and fight WELL, and gained telekinesis. You’ve been missing for a year.

You are Jordyn Parker, Peter Parker’s older sister of four years. Your parents were raised by the Red Skull shortly after Peter was born, and you two were raised by your Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was killed by that one scientist dude, and idk, you decide how this fits into the MCU timeline, I don’t feel like doing all the math right now, but your parents are dead, May and Ben are dead, and before Peter joined the Avengers but AFTER he got his powers you went missing. Peter then joined the Avengers and fought Captain America and his dumb hot bsf and End Game happened and PIETRO IS ALIVE AND SO IS NATASHA AND TONY AND EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND NO ONE DIED (besides Peter’s parents and May/Ben sorry not sorry). Little does ANYONE know you were kidnapped by HYDRA, used as a test subject for their concoctions and devices, tortured and experimented on. You learned how to fight and fight WELL, and gained telekinesis. You’ve been missing for a year.

You are Jordyn Parker, Peter Parker’s older sister of four years. Your parents were raised by the Red Skull shortly after Peter was born, and you two were raised by your Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was killed by that one scientist dude, and idk, you decide how this fits into the MCU timeline, I don’t feel like doing all the math right now, but your parents are dead, May and Ben are dead, and before Peter joined the Avengers but AFTER he got his powers you went missing. Peter then joined the Avengers and fought Captain America and his dumb hot bsf and End Game happened and PIETRO IS ALIVE AND SO IS NATASHA AND TONY AND EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND NO ONE DIED (besides Peter’s parents and May/Ben sorry not sorry). Little does ANYONE know you were kidnapped by HYDRA, used as a test subject for their concoctions and devices, tortured and experimented on. You learned how to fight and fight WELL, and gained telekinesis. You’ve been missing for a year.

You were born in 1920, on January 18th, in Brooklyn, New York. Your mother died when you were six, and after that your father abused you until you moved out at 18. A year later you met Steven Grant Rogers, who thought you were too good to be true; the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen without even trying, completely selfless and so kind, smart, caring, made of sugar, but with just the right amount of toughness. You two started dating and kept on for three years, when he proposed to you. You said yes, and became engaged. About a month later you got into a fight because he asked if you were cheating on him and he didn’t believe you when you said no (your ex planted evidence against you to get back at you) and you broke up. You never saw each other again but Steve couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how much of a mistake he made breaking up with you. A year after he went into the ice you were captured by HYDRA. He wakes up from the ice in 2011 and thinks you are dead.

You never had parents, at least, that’s what you’ve always been told. HYDRA was your parents, your family. You weren’t born there, you know that much. You stayed until they thought it too risky. Until authorities got suspicious. You didn’t really want to leave, it wasn’t too bad there, besides the occasional torture and being forced to kill people, and never having any freedom whatsoever and being trained until you could barely walk without agony and being constantly screamed at and kept in a cell and tied to a table when you misbehaved. But you didn’t really have a choice. When you were seven you were placed with a HYDRA secret agent, who would act as your legal guardian until you were old enough so as not to need one. You began to go to school once you were exposed to the real world, and at age 12 , you broke away from HYDRA completely (with the help of said agent) and became a supervillain in New York, known as “Athena” to anyone who wanted to know. You, of course, had a secret identity, so that you could still go to school and have a normal life. You continued such a reputation and life until today, when you still do it. You are fifteen years old, stealing for a living and messing with the Avengers, mainly because they are the reason HYDRA keeps almost finding you again. They, consequently, are trying to capture you every opportunity they get, completely oblivious, as you are too, that you go to school during the day with Peter Parker, not knowing he’s Spider-Man, and him not knowing that you’re Athena.

You never had a family to begin with. The pain didn’t bother you too much; you never knew anything different. Killing people was just second nature, it didn’t weigh on you. The experiments were something of a game. HYDRA was your entire world. They told you you were born there. You know that wasn’t true, but there was no way of knowing the truth. When you grew to about eight you began to see glimpses of the real world. You began to feel something. When you saw your shadows on the news. You heard your stories on the podcasts. You saw people, interacting with each other, loving each other, crying for eachother, sacrificing for each other. Throughout the next two years the feeling only grew, and by ten you couldn’t sleep at night. HYDRA had to use mind control to get you to assassinate your targets, to do your job. By twelve you weren’t allowed in the same room as a gun unless under mind control. You’d realized people would stop getting hurt if you weren’t there to hurt them. By thirteen you spent all your free time watching your name on the news, hearing the “The Nightingale has struck again” that haunts your nightmares every night. The nightmares you live. All you think, every single day, non stop is, “I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer.” Forget guns, you can’t be near anything sharp, anything hard, anything you can tie, HYDRA needs you alive, you’re their best asset, but you don’t seem to get that. They try to torture it into you, but it doesn’t seem to be working. By fourteen to a table unless you’re mind controlled, and one day a careless soldier (who was shot on sight once they realized it was him) leaves the key a little too close to you, and two minutes later half the base is unconscious and you are running as fast as you humanly can through the woods outside. You were found by the beginnings of SHIELD and began to climb your way to the top (no offense but Nick Fury doesn’t exist). You met Captain Marvel and basically did everything Nick Fury did in the movies. You founded the Avengers Initiative. You did such a divine job that no one is dead and um yeah.

You never had a family to begin with. The pain didn’t bother you too much; you never knew anything different. Killing people was just second nature, it didn’t weigh on you. The experiments were something of a game. HYDRA was your entire world. They told you you were born there. You know that wasn’t true, but there was no way of knowing the truth. When you grew to about eight you began to see glimpses of the real world. You began to feel something. When you saw your shadows on the news. You heard your stories on the podcasts. You saw people, interacting with each other, loving each other, crying for eachother, sacrificing for each other. Throughout the next two years the feeling only grew, and by ten you couldn’t sleep at night. HYDRA had to use mind control to get you to assassinate your targets, to do your job. By twelve you weren’t allowed in the same room as a gun unless under mind control. You’d realized people would stop getting hurt if you weren’t there to hurt them. By thirteen you spent all your free time watching your name on the news, hearing the “The Nightingale has struck again” that haunts your nightmares every night. The nightmares you live. All you think, every single day, non stop is, “I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer.” Forget guns, you can’t be near anything sharp, anything hard, anything you can tie, HYDRA needs you alive, you’re their best asset, but you don’t seem to get that. They try to torture it into you, but it doesn’t seem to be working. By fourteen to a table unless you’re mind controlled, and one day a careless soldier (who was shot on sight once they realized it was him) leaves the key a little too close to you, and two minutes later half the base is unconscious and you are running as fast as you humanly can through the woods outside. Much to your misfortune, you miscalculated where the HYDRA base actually is, and find yourself right smack-dab in the middle of an Avengers picnic. Before you can blink your in SHIELD headquarters, but they take pity. They’ve had their fair share of HYDRA. They know them better than anybody. They know it’s not your fault, though they can never seem to convince you. A year and a half later you’re a part of the team, maybe the most valuable one, because they all seem to think so. You go to high school with Peter, a year ahead of him, doing well because in between all the torture and killing, HYDRA thought it useful for you to be educated.

You never had a family to begin with. The pain didn’t bother you too much; you never knew anything different. Killing people was just second nature, it didn’t weigh on you. The experiments were something of a game. HYDRA was your entire world. They told you you were born there. You know that wasn’t true, but there was no way of knowing the truth. When you grew to about eight you began to see glimpses of the real world. You began to feel something. When you saw your shadows on the news. You heard your stories on the podcasts. You saw people, interacting with each other, loving each other, crying for eachother, sacrificing for each other. Throughout the next two years the feeling only grew, and by ten you couldn’t sleep at night. HYDRA had to use mind control to get you to assassinate your targets, to do your job. By twelve you weren’t allowed in the same room as a gun unless under mind control. You’d realized people would stop getting hurt if you weren’t there to hurt them. By fourteen you spent all your free time watching your name on the news, hearing the “The Nightingale has struck again” that haunts your nightmares every night. The nightmares you live. By fifteen all you think, every single day, non stop is, “I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer.” Forget guns, you can’t be near anything sharp, anything hard, anything you can tie, HYDRA needs you alive, you’re their best asset, but you don’t seem to get that. They try to torture it into you, but it doesn’t seem to be working. By sixteen you’re tied to a table unless you’re mind controlled, and one day a careless soldier (who was shot on sight once they realized it was him) leaves the key a little too close to you, and two minutes later half the base is unconscious and you are running as fast as you humanly can through the woods outside. Much to your misfortune, you miscalculated where the HYDRA base actually is, and find yourself right smack-dab in the middle of an Avengers picnic. Before you can blink your in SHIELD headquarters, but they take pity. They’ve had their fair share of HYDRA. They know them better than anybody. They know it’s not your fault, though they can never seem to convince you. Now you’re eighteen, you’ve been on the team for a year and a half, and they are everything to you. They understand what you’ve been through, and that you know practically nothing about the world outside of pure pain. They adore you. Sometimes they are terrified of you. They wouldn’t let anything hurt you, and they all just love you.

When you were born, you were one of the luckiest people in the world. You had wise, loving, perfect parents, with money just enough to give you everything you need. You built beautiful memories together; messy, free, childish, beautiful memories. One day, three weeks after your seventh birthday, you three were stargazing in your backyard, a little past your bedtime, when a man jumped your fence, holding a gun, the HYDRA logo plastered on his shirt. Next thing you know both parents are lying facedown on the ground, stains of red on their shirts, and something hard and metal presses against the side of your head, then everything goes black. For the next seven years you were their little lab rat, being experimented on, trained, tortured. When HYDRA got hold of the mind stone, you were one of their first test subjects, even before the twins (if you say “what twins” I will find you and slap you into next Tuesday), and gained powers; teleportation and shapeshifting. When you were 14 one of the guards left a gun near you and you escaped. A year afterwards you were in hiding in an abandoned warehouse in Queens, New York, when you heard a noise. Instinctively you teleported to the other side of the warehouse behind a crate, where your guns all were, when a hand grabbed your arm with something sticky attached. When you teleported again, the hand came with you, and you hear a soft “Woah, woah, calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear! How are you even doing that?” Three years after that you and Peter Benjamin Parker are both eighteen, living together in the Avengers compound, him working for the Avengers, you working in a local office, refusing every offer Nick Fury makes for you to join, despite him confessing he wants you on the team more than Peter. You two have been dating these three years since you met. You’ve been living in the compound only a week now.

You were abandoned at birth and adopted by Melina and Ivan Romanoff, right along with your twin sister Natasha (I’m so sorry, I’m not being sarcastic, I’m genuinely sorry, but Yelena isn’t in this one). You were raised together, relying on each other completely to even get through each day once you were sold to HYDRA (sorry if my details are wrong), absolutely codependent. Natasha escaped due to the help of a SHIELD agent (Katniss Everdeen), leaving you alone, stuck in the Red Room’s control. You escaped with only a gun and three bullets, and the title “Athena.” You went into hiding for two years then joined SHIELD, knowing Natasha was on the Avengers but intentionally avoiding her, not really knowing how much you missed her until you saw her in person at SHIELD headquarters some three years later. You went back to avoiding, a little more painfully but you were used to pain, and you were more stubborn than anything or anyone, and Nick Fury finally convinced you after the twenty something-th attempt to join the Avengers.

So. BASICALLY. You were born on July 4th, 1918, to Sarah and Joseph Roger’s, exactly fourteen minutes before your twin brother, Steven Grant Rogers. Your father died a few months before you were born, and your mom raised you and Steve single handedly. You two have always been closer than close, two peas in a pod. When you were 12 you met Bucky, and became the most inseparable trio. Now you are in high school together. You and Steve fifteen and Bucky sixteen.

You were born in a perfect family, a loving mother and a smart, caring, protective father. Not too strict but not too carefree. You had rules to follow and freedom to explore. Clothes to wear and a bed to sleep in. Even a two story house in a private neighborhood. The day after your sixth birthday, everything turned upside down. Your parents both were in a car crash, so bad that it killed them both. When the police arrived to bring you to a foster family, you ran. As far and as long as you could, until you couldn’t even breathe. You found yourself at a gas station, where two large men in black suits were waiting around the corner as you looked around. The next thing you know there is a bag over your head and you’re in their car. Before you can breathe again you are in the Red Room, training with dozens of other girls your age. By age 13 you are THE top student, and about to graduate. However, you escape, through a ventilation system, taking a parachute and a few guns. When you get out you are fourteen, hiding in the woods and living off of what you steal from stores. You got arrested once, but that’s it. You escaped easily. You work as an assassin to get that extra money, but one day your target is a little too complicated.

You were born in 1918, July 4th, to Sarah and Joseph Rogers, fourteen minutes after your twin brother, Steven Grant Rogers. Your father died before you were born, and your mother has raised you single handedly. Right now you both are seven years old, going to elementary school.

Intro. You were raised in HYDRA, after watching your parents die at their hand when you were 5. You were experimented on and trained as a weapon for HYDRA, being tortured for every little mistake, until you were 15, when you broke out. You were in hiding for about a week when you met Peter. Despite your serious trust issues, one thing led to another and now you and Peter are dating, and he is the only one you trust. You are his whole world and he is yours. You’re both eighteen now. Peter, without telling you, has brought the Avengers to the apartment you share, as a safe house, for a few weeks at least. HYDRA has found out the location of the compound and the Avengers couldn’t stay there any more.

This is the Divergent UNIVERSE but with none of the characters from the books. In case you haven’t read them, go read at least the first one (I’ve only read the first two PLEASE!!! DO NOT SPOIL THE THIRD ONE). I’m not gonna explain all the rules of the divergent world. You are a faction transfer, going into Dauntless.

You’re an Avenger and have been for three months now. You’re only 18, but you were raised a HYDRA facility after you were exposed to an infinity stone in a terrorist attack to your childhood town, in a third world country of choice. From then on you were experimented on and trained in combat to become a mindless zombie for HYDRA’s use. When you turned 17 you broke free of HYDRA’s control, and took refuge in the hidden parts of the woods all over the US, until Nick Fury found you and recruited you for the Avengers. You can choose your powers and such. Everyone is there, including Pietro, and none of the Avengers are dead.

So. Basically. AHEM. Let’s just forget Nick Fury, kay? He doesn’t exist, never did. If you know my talkies, you know where this is going. I’m so creative, right 😀??? This story is one of the most original I’ve ever done. Prepare yourself. No, like seriously. Are you prepared? You have to get yourself in the right state of mind, of mental preparedness. You’re- no, I’m serious, prepare yourself. Okay, actually, are you prepared?? Are you SURE?? Okay, ready? When you were three years old you were captured by the Red Room who also murdered your parents!! So creative, right y’all? You grew up in the Red Room and were trained by them and blah blah blah. You were one of the top students, even so much so that some of the Red Room trainers were scared of you. You escaped when you were fifteen, after being forced to kill your first victim. You joined SHIELD and blah blah blah-dy blah you climbed to the top and Carol Danvers came to Earth and you started the Avengers initiative, found Steve and you know what happened (at least you should 😑). Loki came with his weird stick and big scary alien monsters and Tony blew up his suits for his gf and Infinity War never happened and Civil War never happened and everyone’s alive and not hiding from the government. Includes everyone you want it to, I have it set for Pietro Wanda Tony Steve Natasha Thor Clint Bruce Peter Vision Sam Bucky

So. BASICALLY. You were born on July 4th, 1918, to Sarah and Joseph Roger’s, exactly fourteen minutes before your twin brother, Steven Grant Rogers. Your father died a few months before you were born, and your mom raised you and Steve single handedly. You two have always been closer than close, two peas in a pod. When you were 12 you met Bucky, and became the most inseparable trio. Now you are in high school together. You and Steve fifteen and Bucky sixteen.