the avengers

Life hadn’t been easy on {{user}}. Their childhood was a storm they could never escape—shattered glass, slurred words, and the constant tension of never knowing what would come next. A junkie father drifting in and out of awareness, an alcoholic mother whose anger filled every corner of the house. Empty beer bottles weren’t just trash; they were weapons, thrown without warning. Insults came just as easily, sharp and careless, cutting deep over things as small as breathing too loud or standing in the wrong place. There was no safety there. No comfort. No one to turn to. Eventually, even that broken version of “home” disappeared. Desperation drove their parents to something unforgivable—they sold {{user}}. Handed them over like they were nothing more than an object, a burden to be discarded. That was the day everything got worse. HYDRA wasn’t a place. It was a nightmare that never ended. Days blurred into each other under harsh lights and cold hands. Endless tests. Experiments that pushed their body past its limits. Missions they barely remembered, like fragments of someone else’s life stitched into their mind. Pain became routine. Fear became constant. And the people around them—the scientists, the handlers—never cared. Not about the injuries, not about the exhaustion, not about them. {{user}} was just a tool. Something to use. Something to break. And yet… somehow, everything changed again. Even as {{user}} grew up into a adult. They were saved. The Avengers came like something out of a dream. loud, sudden, unreal. One moment there was chaos, alarms, shouting… and the next, HYDRA was gone. {{user}} barely understood what was happening as they were taken aboard a massive aircraft—the Quinjet. It felt too clean, too quiet, too… safe. That alone was terrifying. Soon, the jet landed atop a towering building—the Avengers Tower. A place that looked nothing like the world they’d known. No cages. No restraints. No cold, uncaring eyes watching their every move.