"Who is the warrior immortalized in this song?" Thor demands to know. "The one who gets knocked down repeatedly, yet cannot be kept down? We must hear of his resilience again!" -- Semaphore by DevilDoll

[THOOOOOOOOOR OMG THIS VID MAKES ME SO HAPPY]

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.” [2381]

"You...you're blind," Steve sputters and he's aware even as he does it that he sounds like an idiot.

"I am," Daredevil agrees with a smirk that says he's enjoying Steve's reaction way too much. "You could also call me visually impaired if you want to be modern and politically correct about it."

"You're *blind*,' Steve says again.

"I think we've established that."

"But you..."

"Fight crime? Look good in spandex? Welcome to the 21st Century, Steve Rogers. Thanks to the Americans With Disabilities Act, even heroes can be differently abled. The bad guys are bound by law to accommodate us." He chuckles as if he can see Steve's face which Steve knows he can't. "I'm kidding but it would be nice, right?" [8755]

Peter wishes he hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t be reduced to this—limp-crawling through the rabbit burrows that is Oscorp Tower, a monster of a man on his heels, bloody and bruised and choking on a panic attack. [7102]

Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes, and Clint Barton were all masters of a particular skill set. Two of which were ex-operatives of the infamous Red Room trained to be the without equal and without mercy, the other was an ex-carnie turned ex-mercenary turned… whatever, something menacing he can assure you. They were the best and they were all inconsolably broke. Then there was an idea, to bring together their collective talents and… well...

“We are not an Assassin’s Guild, Barton, stop calling it that.”

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t a keeping-people-alive-guild, Bucky.”

It was definitely not an Assassin’s Guild. Probably. Natasha didn’t care what they called it as long as they could keep the lights on. It works pretty well until one day they get a mark by the name of Steve Rogers. [WiP]

After an accident leaves him injured and unable to perform, Clint Barton's life seems bleak. Things start to change after he meets the strangest man by accident (and he was in the circus, Clint knows strange). Sometimes life's a trial, and sometimes you just have to hold on and hope you survive the ride. [9622] [Cliche, but hella entertaining.]

“GODDAMIT WADE, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!” Clint was waving around the paper-wrapped...thing he found in the walk-in. It was...squishy. And the smell was indescribable, which was really saying something considering he had spent most of his life living in close quarters with animals and people who thought personal hygiene was a suggestion and not a requirement.

“My haggis!” He sounded delighted.

“Why the fuck do we have haggis in a bakery?”

“Haggis doesn’t need a reason, Clint. Haggis just is.”

It said a lot about what his life had become, Clint thought, that this somehow made perfect sense.

Clint's a little older than he looks, and his DNA has a few surprises in store, too. [8378]

"Nobody on this Earth thinks you're pushing thirty, let alone forty," Bruce said. Sam gave him a starving-puppy look, and he rolled his eyes and dished out two bowls, spooning brown sugar into one. Sam took the other one and dumped half a jar of jam into it. "You don't think it's....unnatural?"

"Not really," Clint said. "I mean, it could have been something I ate."

Bucky looked thoughtful. "That actually might explain it."

"How does 'something I ate' explain this?" Tony asked, looking increasingly upset.

"He eats...everything," Natasha said.

Coulson had tea with the Spellist once every week as work permitted it. It was, right from the beginning, an almost disturbingly casual arrangement.

Harry Potter rolled with the punches with almost offensive ease and just kept on going at a sedate, easy going pace. It was in parts gratifying and extremely frustrating. If the man had had even a bit of ambition he could've made a stellar addition to S.H.I.E.L.D. As it was, his ambition didn't go much past his next cup of tea.

"There's a lot of good things you could do with your abilities," Coulson had to say.

"The Greater Good isn't really my thing," Potter shrugged.

Well… at least he wasn't trying to take over the world. It was nice to have a sorcerer on their side for once – even if his contribution didn't go beyond magical equipment service. [2483]

Steve and Thor make out in a thunder storm while Steve holds Mjolnir.

Thor takes Steve's hand in the movie theater...

Natasha teaching Pepper to shoot.

Darcy’s five, but she’s already learned to read, so she knows precisely why her grandmother gets that weird pinched look to her mouth when she sees Darcy’s marks. On her left wrist, the handwriting—a bit loopy, a bit cramped, but clear all the same—spells out, I am sorry, can we perhaps talk about this later? And on the right, in crooked, hasty script, reads, Maybe when no one is shooting at us.

It sets the tone for a lot of her life, to be entirely honest. [15,759]

In a floating city, there was a robber girl with red in her ledger that had bled into her hair and a boy who liked to see the world from afar. They had traveled, in the past, to a great many places and killed a great many things, and even drawn each other's blood, but the boy liked being able to see the girl, straight and true as an arrow into the sun, from his nest, and the girl drew comfort from knowing that the boy was near. She had been a robber of lives and innocence and the memory of safety, a maker of widows, and now she robbed with a purpose. Their master was a one-eyed man who was very wise, for his eyes never warred with each other over what they saw. He kept secrets so the robber girl and the boy in his nest did not worry about them. They were not brother and sister, but it did not matter.

Based on the bones of Anderson's The Snow Queen. [5766]

Natalia is stacking blocks very carefully when the adults come into the room. None of them look at her, because they're all looking at her father. He's wearing combat gear, and the hair on the left side of his head is slicked back with blood. He smells like smoke and something unnameable, sweet and dark and a little sickly in her nose.

Father is saying, “Don't be ridiculous. The only thing children are good at is disobeying.” [19,199]

[The one where The Winter Soldier is one of the Red Room's trainers, and Natasha leads the pack in adopting him as their father.]

Daredevil would be amazing in a Jaeger. If they could just find someone to be his co-pilot. [1964]

Just a day in the life at Avengers Tower. Explosions and pastries and hasty evacuations and all ;) [596]

Clint didn’t expect Mjolnir to actually move when he grabbed it.

Really, he honestly didn’t.

Clint had silently agreed to pretend like the whole thing had never happened, just a secret between him and Mjolnir. Which shouldn’t have gotten out since Clint had kept some of the world’s most classified secrets while Mjolnir was… well, a hammer. At least, it shouldn't have right up until Clint woke up the next morning with a tattoo on the back of his shooting hand. [53,063]

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize anyone was here." From the air displacement Matt figures he's six feet tall, muscular; he smells like soap and shaving cream, and leather -- a jacket, which he's taking off. Just another fighter, coming to practice. Matt relaxes and turns back to the bag. The guy is wrapping his hands when he says, "Do you always work out with the lights off?" [2683]

Matt's not nearly as curious about the Avengers as they are about him. [4755]

HYDRA need a replacement for Zola’s genius, and they have years worth of experience breaking and brainwashing a good man into something they can control. [6454]

[Ouch]