A/N: Welcome back, everyone. I know there was a major break in the writing process, but I just want to say that the story won't be abandoned and will be finished eventually.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All rights to Marvel Cinematic Universe, etc.

Chapter 8

NIGHT OF THE HUNTER

"I'm telling you, monsters aren't born, they're made." - C. J. Roberts

1

Unspecified island off the north coast of Svalbard

Unimaginable, paralysing cold was the only thing he was able to feel. He couldn't have predicted that such a simple stimulus as temperature would have become such a nightmare. Each cell of his organism tried to fend off this unbearable feeling but to no avail. Every inch of his skin shouted louder than an explosion of a bomb.

How long has it been? A week? Month? Few years? He couldn't really tell because the only thing he was focused on was to survive the seemingly endless interrogations, to not tell her anything she could find useful. The most insignificant words could betray him and he knew he had to keep it all inside. After all it was none other than Black Widow herself who had been assigned to get the information out of him.

Many years prior, when he was nothing but a rookie among the ranks of Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, the most powerful anti-terrorist organization in the world, he was sent to Budapest with a dangerous mission.

Having her, the strongest, smartest and most ruthless murderer in the world, lying flat with a broken leg and arm, a cold barrel of his gun pointing at her bruised face, he thought it was a closing chapter in this gruesome part of history. He had believed she was the last among the worst creations ever made by a human.

The gun felt good in his hand, its grip perfectly matching his grasp, the trigger only asking to be pulled. One slight move, brief flash of light and recoil of the firearm - and the woman who had killed over two-hundred people would have her brain splattered across the dirty concrete floor.

They remained in that position for a period of time that felt like an eternity to both of them. A young agent, clad in black and grey with bow and quiver on his back, holding a gun. Black Widow, a red haired devil in human skin, defeated at last after a far too plentiful record of murders.

Then the trigger wasn't pulled and he put his gun into the thigh holster, crouching beside his defeated opponent. She kept her emotionless mask on, but the accelerated breaths she drew were clear evidence proof of pain.

The archer had hunted her for eleven months and when he finally confronted his target, he made a different call. The last expression which crept onto her face before she lost consciousness was something between utter disbelief and sadness. Since that day, twelve long years have passed and now the ghost of the past has returned.

Brutal punch to the face brought him back to reality and suddenly he was again at his cell, the cold still as bone-chilling as ever. He felt his cheek swelling and he raised his sight to look into the eyes of his oppressor. Turned out that the Black Widow program had its last two words to tell before being shut down for good.

Irina Elena Wasilewska.

Tall, slim and stunningly beautiful. She had a perfect figure and graceful walk. Her black attire contrasted with fingernails and lips in the colour of deep red. Sleek long hair and eyes were darker than the winter eclipse. If you happened to look inside you'd find a place it's best not to disturb.

"You again." Clint let out a husky whisper. He hadn't had water in three days, they weren't spoiling him on his small vacation after all. Barton was given an absolute minimum, just so his suffering could be prolonged in hope of getting anything useful out of him.

"I'm glad I left you something to look forward to." Her voice was so smooth and pleasant to hear that it felt impossible it could be produced by a monster of her caliber. Without any warning, she hit him in the stomach causing his back to arch. Clint felt the fresh scabs covering his back opening up. Hot, sticky liquid was streaming down his cold skin and onto the floor.

"Of all who were kept within these walls, you are the only one who survived for more than a week. Forty two days to be exact and yet you're still uncooperative, darling. The only thing you have to do is to lead me to your friend and you'll be free. It's not difficult."

Barton gave her a smile. "We both know it's not gonna happen."

She leaned in so she could whisper into his ear. "I like you, Clint, so don't make it worse, please. It's a shame we were on the opposite sides of the board, back in Budapest. I could have asked you for a date."

"You wish."

"Not for long." She turned and shouted something in Russian. Clint understood the words but he prayed he got the translation wrong. A moment later, a man with glasses and white lab-coat entered Clint's cell, holding a metal tray full of nasty-looking items, including various tools and syringes.

Irina stuck the needle into Barton's forearm and sat in front of him again. Wasilewska fixed her gaze on the archer, waiting for the chemical to take hold of her victim's organism. She resembled a vulture when it spots a dying animal in a desert.

He didn't feel much different at first, maybe except the fact that the 20-watt bulb in his cell seemed to be generating more light and that he could see the droplets of water streaming down the walls more clearly. He could also sense the perfume of his oppressor. The scent of roses became intense to the point he became nauseous.

She smiled, seeing his oversensitive reactions to the stimuli around him. The assassin loved to toy with her prey.

"I want to play a game, Clint." Her voice was sweet and her lips were bloody in colour.

The archer started to pray to all gods he knew. Not because he was religious, he just knew that death was a better thing to ask than what Wasilewska was about to do to him. He gritted his teeth, making a mental decision inside his head. He will die before telling anything about Natasha.

"Do svedanja, agent Barton."

2

"When did you receive his last transmission?" Natasha asked, leaning over a giant map, full of graphs, notes and small flags denoting possible locations of HYDRA facilities, ranging from weapon factories to underground laboratories. Clint Barton could have been kept anywhere and frankly she was doubting more and more if he was still alive. She felt as if she was walking down the stairs and missed a step. Something awful was building inside of her and she realized it was fear.

"His GPS went offline four hours ago somewhere in this area." Nick Fury said pointing his finger at Barents Sea. "This region is known for its turbulent storms and the signal would've problems with getting out. Besides the localizer is too small and doesn't have an amplifier. I'm surprised we got any anchor points at all."

"Do it again. There must be something you could have overlooked." Natasha asked, trying not to show too much concern because if she did, she might have lost control over herself.

"I did. Thrice. I've really no idea how we can find Barton. As far as we are concerned there has never been any enemy activity there, when we last checked the satellite footage." Director told her. "Yet we don't even know if he's still alive and even if he does, the chances of his survival decrease with every minute."

Natasha looked at him funny, wondering what had happened with the director whom she knew throughout all these years. "Say it one more goddamn time and I'll do something I'm gonna regret."

He wanted to say something but was interrupted when Maria Hill came inside. She handed the director a large plastic envelope marked with words reading 'Sensitive Files Access - clearance level 8 or higher' and left the office without a word.

Nick sighed heavily because he knew something the redhead spy did not, something which he should have told her years ago when she was introduced into the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D.

When Sharon Carter arrived at Wanda Maximoff's house in Scotland she followed Barton's captors. She was able to establish the identity of the previously unknown woman who was in charge of the ambush and whom Jared Hunt reported to directly. What's more she matched the only photo in possession of the Agency. Right now the folder with this information, albeit scarce and incomplete, was lying in front of Nicholas Fury on his desk.

"Take a seat, agent Romanoff." He asked her, preparing mentally for what he was about to say.

Redhead brows furrowed.

"Please, Natasha, just sit."

After a moment of hesitation she complied and was handed a thin, torn, old-looking folder with a few faded stamps including CLASSIFIED and one that made her feel like she was pulled into ice-cold water.

It was a bar code, followed by a sequence of numbers: 6405090401-48.

Forty eight?

Natasha reached involuntarily to the base of her skull, then asked only one single word. "Why?"

"When I sent agent Barton to kill you in Budapest twelve years ago, I was thrilled to have a chance of elimination of the infamous Black Widow. I was an idealist, just as Pierce whom I considered a friend at the time." Nick sported a crooked smile. "We were young, determined and much much more stupid than now. Exposing and destroying an organization so dangerous it could have taken any country down in one night, was a tempting dream. Barton was ready to do whatever was necessary to help me achieve it and he would, believe me. He has changed much since then and so have you."

"He made a different call." The spy mirrored her words she once spoke to Loki on the helicarrier. Memories of the Budapest mission held a special meaning for her, but she wasn't sure what emotions they evoked. Out of all, sorrow was probably the closest to the truth. "Sometimes I wonder if he did the right thing."

"When he brought you here, I was relieved he disobeyed my order, Natasha, I am still." Nick exhaled heavily. "But he wasn't the only one sent after you and unfortunately you weren't the last one to leave the Red Room either."

The barcode on the cover looked as if it was made with blood.

"Once you were fully trained and undergone… the final procedure, there was another girl waiting in line. She was starving and living with an abusive father, before being abducted by the Red Room. She had nothing and known no love even before the kidnapping and in many aspects she's their finest creation." Fury said with a bitter voice."The Red Room told you have no place in the world. With Irina Wasilewska, it was different. She found it in the Red Room and the emotions such as hatred, fear, hunger for vengeance are strong motivators. I thought by not telling you I'd be able to protect you. Both me and Barton knew you would have gone after her."

"Yes. Yes, I would." Natasha rubbed her face with a sigh. "But how does that help me in finding my friend?"

"Maybe this will."

Natasha turned around and saw Tony leaning against the doorframe. His clothes were creased, hair in a mess and he had giant black circles under his eyes, a clear sign of his efforts to find their missing teammate. Stark walked to the desk and showed her black tablet which displayed the coordinates she craved to acquire for the past month.

80°49'55.6"N 20°20'37.0"E

For the first time in a long while Natasha was speechless as she looked at the numbers. None of the so-called technicians in S.H.I.E.L.D. were able to find it, yet there was Tony Stark standing with the most possible location of her friend in the palm of his hand and no signs of usual annoying overconfidence.

After a minute or two she managed to ask him how he did it.

"The solution was so simple in its complexity, I should've seen it earlier. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore as we got what we need." Stark stroked his few-days beard, yet Natasha's eyes were still glued to him.

"Microscopic electrical discharge. When Clint's localizer was destroyed, and I think it must have happened shortly before he was taken to the enemy base, it released a faint impulse which otherwise couldn't have made it out of that base."

Stark swiped his finger across the screen of the tablet and the numbers appeared on Fury's computer. "I guess it pays to have a private small help from PROXY, I was able to pinpoint the signal to those coordinates."

"How much time do you need to prepare?"

"Ten minutes, tops. We're taking my jet, it'll be faster than the regular one."

Natasha nodded her and headed out of Fury's office, Irina's barcode burning in her mind like a brand.

3

Steve Rogers was still in his bed when the spy walked in. He had spent the past few weeks here; considering the critical condition he was found in, it was only natural for the soldier to stay for so long at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical facility. Everyone whom she spoke with were under the impression that she and Wanda showed up at the last possible moment, otherwise Cap would end up really bad.

Bruce Banner along with dr Mitchell took care of the soldier. Their analysis provided unexpected results as the levels of serum in Steve's blood decreased significantly after the whole incident. Rogers had to rest for a while, so the substance in his system would have a chance to be replenished.

Turned out even someone like Captain America himself needed a break from time to time and that was the reason why Natasha came. He had to sit this one out or else she'd go crazy. She lost him once and she was most probably going to lose her best friend as well - who could have known if they'd arrive in time to save the archer?

Steve was awake, drawing a landscape in his sketchbook. There were multiple IVs and medical machinery hooked up to him but it didn't seem to bother the soldier. He came off as fairly OK, maybe except for his eyes which weren't as blue as they used to be. Natasha took his return to the hobby as a good omen nonetheless.

"You missed the old man?" He asked, putting the sketchbook on his nightstand and earning a nudge from the spy as she sat by the head of his bed. Up close he looked extremely strained as if he hadn't been able to sleep, despite his long recovery time at hospital.

"You can put it that way." Natasha answered, studying his face. "How are you doing, Steve?"

"Well, apart from the boredom I'd say I'm feeling more and more like myself. But I don't complain, not when I'm talking with someone to whom I owe everything." Steve replied quietly.

"It is what friends do for each other."

"Then I'm a terrible one apparently. I hit you and tried to kill. Not to mention the fact that I must have terrified both you and Wanda beyond everything." He gave her a crooked smile. "I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself for what I've done to you, let alone be your friend, Natasha."

The redhead heard so much bitterness and self-contempt in his voice that she couldn't help but to sigh. There was a looooong way before he'd stop blaming himself for the actions he wasn't really responsible for.

"Yet here I am, Steve, and you know I'm not going anywhere." She gave him a faint smile. "You weren't yourself and I'm tired of reminding you about it every single time. End of discussion."

The soldier looked like he wanted to add something but instead he complied and fell silent. Natasha closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "Tony finally found Clint. We're leaving in a few minutes so I just wanted to let you know where we are going."

"If you'd only…" Steve started to prop himself out of bed, but her glare caused him to freeze.

"Don't you even think about it, Rogers. In your state I doubt you'd be able to properly hold your shield. Besides I won't be alone, Tony and Bruce are coming along so this mission will be a quick one."

"But you're still worried sick."

"I am. There is a chance he might be dead, Steve. I… I don't know if I'd be able to go through this if he doesn't make it. Your accident was enough and I just cannot bear the feeling." She responded, creasing the edge of Steve's blanket. "They must have fucked shit up back in the Red Room because I shouldn't be feeling any of this. Emotions are a distraction."

She felt his watchful gaze. "It's completely normal. You're worried about your friend just like the other Avengers."

"Maybe. But it freaks me out. All my life I was told not to bond with anybody yet here we are. I'm going on a dangerous mission to rescue my would-be killer. Is that normal?"

"The last part - definitely not." Steve said and she chuckled, relaxing slightly.

Then the redhead's wrist communicator beeped and they heard Tony's voice.

"Hey, Red, we're ready to roll. I'm waiting for you at helipad number 7."

"Be there in a minute." Natasha stood up and headed for the door but was stopped midway by Steve's voice.

"Natasha?"

"Mmm?"

"It'll be okay."

"You don't know that." She whispered without turning around and left the room.

4

Thunder rumbled in the distance, warning of an incoming storm. Black clouds above made the night even more darker as Jared Hunt was making sure the garrison was ready for a possible attack. The base he was stationed in for the past months was located on a small rocky island on Barents Sea. It was one of the last remaining strongholds built all the way back during WW2 under the leadership of Johann Schmidt himself.

The mercenary was currently walking down a long corridor, encircling the whole island and connecting to multiple bunkers, from which the soldiers could defend the fortress without being subject to enemy fire.

It wasn't his duty to do the inspection but Wasilewska gave him orders and he had no other choice but to comply.

The fact that he was the one in charge before they thawed her out of the cryostasis chamber was of no consequence now. Hunt had already lost too many of his men during the last raid and he had seen what she was capable of. Killing her own was nothing new.

Jared thought the assassin would end up with at least a slight brain damage after so much time spent in life-suspension, but no. She was just as ruthless and effective as his superiors demanded, which in fact was the reason why she received the promotion immediately afterwards. Wasilewska became the commander of all strike units, including his own, and while he was still technically the leader of Omega-Team, she called all the shots.

"Fucking bitch." Jared Hunt muttered under his breath. "Who the fuck she thinks she is?"

No one answered him when he walked into one of many bunkers, facing the southern coast of the island. The garrison should have consisted of six men but he instead found himself at gunpoint of a redhead woman in black jumpsuit. Behind her stood another figure in armour made of metal and with its repulsor gauntlet raised.

Jared's eyes squinted with hatred. "You."

"Yes, me."

Natasha hit him hard in the face, feeling the nose cracking under her fist. A stream of blood spilt down his face and he fell onto his back. His gun landed in the corner of the bunker, where it was blasted to pieces by Tony.

"In the future, please remind me not to piss you off." The billionaire voice came from behind and the spy half-smiled.

Natasha pulled one of her combat knives out of the utility belt. It had a long serrated blade which was made with only one purpose: to inflict maximum pain.

"How's Captain doing, Romanoff?" Jared mumbled, the blood dripping down his chin. That bitch wasn't getting him this easy.

"Oh he's fine, thanks for asking." The spy replied calmly, fiddling with her weapon. The knife slid between her fingers with ease, just as if she was playing with a favourite toy.

"Where do you keep Clint?" She asked, dragging each syllable.

"Do you know what happens to a fly once it's been caught in a web, Romanoff?" Jared asked, slowly gathering himself from his knees. He spit blood on the ground. "Wasilewska got him. I doubt there will be enough left of Barton for you to take home."

His hand reached for an alarm he wore on his belt, but the redhead was faster. In one lightning-fast move the steel blade sliced his face. When the mercenary collapsed onto the ground once again he realised the sudden absence of his left eye and wave of pain he had never experienced before. The alarm remote was crushed to pieces under Stark's metal bootjet.

"Last warning, Hunt. If you tell me where he is I'll let you live."

"If I were you, I'd start talking. Now." Tony clenched his fists with metallic sound.

"Did he… see you like that? A hunter… in its natural state?" The mercenary muttered, panting heavily. His face was now a complete mess. "Or is this another lie… Rogers doesn't know about.?"

Tony made a slight shift as if he was intending to stop her. Natasha's face was pale and showed no emotions.

"No, I guess not." Natasha responded quietly, sheathing her knife. It was no good to negotiate with Hunt any further: he was a fucking fanatic and wouldn't reveal anything useful. They were wasting time while Clint was held somewhere in the facility.

"Thought so. You know-" Hunt smiled mockingly but his expression soon turned into a twisted grimace because an electrocution disc hit him in the chest. 30 000 volts surged through his body and the mercenary started to twitch violently, however, the spy didn't even flinch.

Mercenary's words echoed inside her mind, bringing up the worst thoughts she has ever had. Natasha hoped they wouldn't resurface after she made friends with Steve. Now she wasn't so sure if she will be able to keep them at bay.

"You've really gone all the way this time." Tony said, a bit disturbed by this display of Natasha's emotionlessness. "I'll take him in, he's had enough."

The spy nodded and walked past the body which ceased to move. The electric discharge was designed to incapacitate, not kill and it worked like a dream. The only thing left now was to take Hunt aboard StarkJet which was currently hovering six kilometers directly above the enemy base.

Tony used a laser cutter to get out and delivered unconscious Hunt to the aircraft.

"What happened? Should I come with you?" Bruce asked as soon as Tony landed in the hold of the jet.

"Not yet, buddy. I'm just gonna drop this son of a bitch here, he might be useful in the future." Stark explained.

Bruce tied the mercenary up and stopped the bleeding. If they were taking Hunt in, he might as well be alive for questioning.

"Tony, come in." Natasha's voice came over the communicator. "I think I know where they keep Barton. Sub-level 7C, west wing. Going in right now."

"Copy that. Be there in a sec." Tony said and jumped out of the jet's hold. They had taken out all of the soldiers guarding the southern perimeter but still, if he intended to return to the base unnoticed, Tony had to do it without repulsors. They had already risked being detected with taking the hostage.

5

Clint fluttered his eyes open when he heard distant gunshots. Somewhere to the right there was a fight going on and it was becoming louder and louder.

"Do you hear that, Clint?" Irina whispered into something which used to be his ear, now a bloody remains. "She's coming to get you. To rescue you."

For a brief moment Barton had problems remembering where he was and who was talking to him.

"Wha- what?" He asked sluggishly.

"Nothing, darling, nothing. I'm wondering how she knew where to look for you." Wasilewska smiled, stroking his back, covered in countless slashes, some still fresh enough to bleed. "I wasn't going to give you back to anyone, you know. I still don't."

"Give me back?"

"Yes. You're mine, Clint, she just doesn't know it yet." Irina checked if her pistols were loaded and combat batons charged. Someone was going to get hurt and it thrilled her.

"She… Natasha... is nothing like you."

"Perhaps." Irina looked him in the eyes, one of which was so swollen that it made him half-blind. "But before I speak with her, a word of advice: never compare one woman to another, Clint. It may get you into trouble."

With that she sank the blade into his right hand, pinning it down to the chair below. Clint howled again, feeling the steel cutting through the tendons and muscles. If he was going to make it out of here, his archery practice was now delayed by a few months at best.

"Scream, Barton, scream. Maybe this way she'll find us faster and when she does…"

She was interrupted by a loud knock and voice of one of her soldiers. "They've just breached the second blast door, we need to evacuate now!"

She left the blade in Clint's body and opened the door. Behind it stood a metal figure clad in red and gold.

"Surprise." Iron Man said, his voice transitioning from that of the soldier to his own. He grabbed the assassin by the throat and threw out of Clint's cell, causing her to hit the concrete wall with a solid thud.

Wasilewska got up immediately though and smiled darkly. She wiped the blood from her crushed lip and took out her Widow's batons, which began to hum with electricity. "Finally. A challenge."

They engaged in a brutal fight and even though Stark was clad in bullet-proof armour the combat was more than even. He had the durability but Wasilewska had the flexibility and the experience of the best assassins in the world. One way or another, it gave Natasha an opportunity to sneak into the room where the archer was kept.

Clint felt the blade being removed and he realised that someone was bandaging his hand with quick moves. As the redhead spy was doing so she tried not to look at his fingers which had nails pulled out.

"Na- Nat. You came."

"Yeah, I'm here, Clint. I'll get you out."

When she freed him out of the restraints she had to focus so as not to break mentally. Her best friend had gone through hell, the number of wounds and scars, impossible to assess, was enough of an evidence.

"Bruce's waiting in the jet. He'll patch you up, don't worry." Natasha said trying her best to sound calm and reassuring. She had to look at the bright side of the situation and it worked to some extent. After all she finally found him. He was not dead.

"Not yet." A snarky voice in her head commented and the spy doubled her efforts to get the archer as far away as possible. Stark had disappeared amidst the chaos and she hoped he held his own against the assassin.

"Natasha, you there? Is it time for code green?" Natasha heard Bruce Banner's anxious voice coming through the comlink.

"No! I don't know where Stark is but I got Clint and I need evac, now!" She replied, eliminating a lonely guard with one of her throwing knives. "He's in critical condition. Can't you land somewhere here? Maybe the roof will do?"

"Impossible. If I lower the jet their scanners will pick up my signal and they'll start shooting." He was silent for a few moments. "But I might have an idea. Contact Tony. He can send one of his backup suits to pick you up."

"Good idea." She switched the channels. "Tony! Tony, come in!"

Natasha tried to connect but to no avail. Static noise made her angry. "Stark, god dammit, respond! Where are you?!"

Then one of the rooms to her left opened and at least a dozen guards poured outside. All of them were armoured, masked and armed to the teeth. How predictable.

"Oh for fucks sake..." She cursed under her breath, but didn't finish it.

"GET DOWN!"

Not thinking too much, she pulled Clint to the ground which wasn't very difficult considering how frail he was. A blinding ray of blue energy surged above their heads, literally scattering the bodies of HYDRA soldiers around the corridor as if they were bowling pins.

"Missed me?" Tony said when he joined her. Natasha was surprised to see the chest piece of his armour damaged and blinking like a broken lightbulb. She then saw that he was holding a foreign looking firearm which must have been the one he used a moment ago.

"More than I'm ready to admit. You think you could send one of your suits to pick Clint up?"

"What about you?"

"I'm staying. I have to find her…"

"No, you're not."

"Try to stop me."

"I won't. I just want to tell you that Cap asked me to keep an eye out on you."

"Typical." For some reason it made her angry even though it wasn't time for such things. "Don't you see what she's done to Clint? She has to pay and I don't know when I will have the opportunity. I want to fight her if only to personally slit her throat."

"When you threaten someone, be ready to keep your word, Romanoff." Natasha heard a voice she thought she had forgotten. She was wrong.

"We need to get out, now." Tony muttered behind the mask of his seemingly indestructible suit, making the situation even more scary. Natasha knew it inside but the rage burning in her veins clouded her vision.

"Nat… please. She'll kill you." Barton whispered weakly which caused Wasilewska to smile. "Let's… go."

"Can you hear them, Romanoff? Even your stupid friends know when to run. You should be, darling."

"I'll get you one way or another."

"Sure you will, you were always the first to strike. And the best part of it?" Wasilewska laughed out loud. "I won't even have to find you."

Both Widows grabbed their guns simultaneously but Tony didn't give them a chance to pull the trigger, firing a smoke grenade. It immediately separated them from Wasilewska and reinforcements she was bound to receive any minute. Tony then used the gun to make a giant hole in the concrete roof. A few seconds later another metal figure landed beside them with a loud clunk.

Tony motioned his hand towards Natasha who was about to turn around and go after Wasilewska. Soon all three joined Bruce in StarkJet's medical bay, where Banner attended to the archer the best way he could.

"JARVIS, get us out of here, ASAP." Tony said, taking his battle-scratched helmet off. "Engage emergency thrusters, full throttle. And throw the tracking jammers into the mix, they won't follow us that way."

"Right away, sir."

"Tell dr Jordan to be ready. Clint will need more help." Bruce added.

"Yes sir."

All of StarkJet's engines roared as they flew away towards New York HQ. Bruce was tending to the wounded archer, who in his opinion, should be dead at least twice before they got him out, while Tony was fiddling with the controllers and navigational computer.

The redhead spy on the other hand just sat on the ground and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long flight.

"I won't even have to find you..."

A/N: If you have any ideas, feel free to PM me and see if they're turned into a story! See you soon. / WS