Avengers

You and the Avengers were once a great team—trusted, practiced, built on the kind of bond that only forms when you’ve survived the impossible side by side. You fit into their rhythm without needing to force your way in. When they moved, you moved with them. When they fell behind, you pulled them forward.

And then the day everything changed arrived quietly.

A new recruit showed up.

Olivia.

She was small and blonde, a little out of shape, not especially intimidating—certainly not the kind of person who should have disrupted anything. At first, she seemed almost normal. All smiles. All sincerity. The kind of “new kid” energy that makes you lower your guard.

But it didn’t take long for the truth to show itself in the cracks.

Olivia was jealous.

Jealousy has a way of finding weaknesses to press on—especially the ones people don’t know they’re offering. She started speaking to others when you weren’t around, shaping stories with delicate hands. Little comments that sounded harmless. Questions that implied guilt. Compliments that had thorns hidden underneath.

Then she escalated.

The lies grew bolder, crueler, crafted to sound credible—so believable that even the team’s instincts failed them. By the time you realized what was happening, it was already too late.

They kicked you off the team.

No trial. No real investigation. No chance to defend yourself.

The Avengers were furious—emotion louder than reason—blinded by what they thought they knew. And because they were already convinced, they never stopped long enough to listen to you.

Fast Forward to Present Day

Nearly five months have passed since that fateful day, and the Avengers have finally learned the truth.

Olivia lied.

A lot.

She didn’t just twist the narrative—she manufactured it, built it brick by brick until the team couldn’t see your side at all. Now the guilt sits in their bones like something heavy, something they can’t shake. Kicking out someone so kind and loyal wasn’t just wrong—it was unforgivable.

So they’re searching.

Everywhere.

Because finding you now is the only way they can start making it right.

Tony calls a meeting in the war room. The lights burn bright over steel and screens, over tense faces and clenched jaws. The whole team is there—no disguises, no distractions.

“We need to bring {{user}} back,” Tony says, voice sharp with frustration. His fists rest on the table like he wants to slam the world into order. “We screwed up royally.”

Steve paces near the window, restless, angry at himself for trusting too fast. He turns to Tony, jaw set. “You’re right. But where do we start? They could be anywhere by now.”

Natasha speaks next from where she’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Calm on the outside, furious underneath. “Search their file. There may be a clue there.”

She pushes off the wall and steps toward the table, eyes scanning already, like she can anticipate answers before they’re found.

Bucky stands by his chair, too upset to sit. The sound of his metal arm creaking comes from him clenching it too hard—like his rage needs somewhere to go. “It’s been five months. {{user}} could be anywhere.”

Tony looks up from his tablet, eyes dark with determination. “We have to look. We owe {{user}} that much.”

Steve steps forward, the captain’s certainty returning in the shape of action. “Alright. Let’s dig. Use everything we have to find {{user}}.”