AN: I must admit when I saw this alphabet format on under another fandom I had a spark of inspiration to apply it practically everything else that I was into at the time. Avengers, however, ended up being the fandom that I love messing around with the most, so this series is born. Try listening to the song "Love Letter" by Shwayze ft. the Cataracs which is perfectly adorable for (some of) these oneshots.

A – Astronaut

"Hurry up Jarvis, he'll be on soon!" A small brown haired boy tripped over himself in his rush to the bulky box-shaped television, a blanket with stars and rocket ships flying behind like a cape. He plopped onto the floor with an oomph and stared wide-eyed at the screen, the black and white video showing Earth from above.

The elderly butler gave a fond smile at his charge and settled calmly into an armchair a respectable distance from the screen. Young Anthony, however, was nearly pressing his face into the screen in his eagerness to see his hero.

"I doubt Captain Rogers will disappear if you scoot back a bit from the telly, Anthony."

"Shush Jarvis," Tony hushed, "He's here!"

The young boy watched in awe as his beloved hero, astronaut captain Steve Rogers, came onto the screen. Despite the black and white colors his light hair shone through and the flyaway smile completely captivated the audience of reporters as the astronaut spoke of his next solo mission into space to go observe the moon. It would be the closest any human had gotten the moon and lived if all went according to plan.

The boy's wide brown eyes lit up with excitement as the handsome blond young man spoke to the camera, strong and confident. He was completely enamored.

"When I grow Jarvis I wanna be just like him. An astronaut." Tony whispered, glued to the screen as it told of his hero's planned voyage the next day. Few believed he would make it back alive but Captain Rogers was refusing to back down.

Jarvis smiled. "I'm sure you will be young sir. You may even get to meet Captain Rogers."

"Really!" he gushed. He clutched his blanket close and blushed adorably. "Oh, that'd be amazing! He's so awesome!"

Jarvis chuckled and shook his head. Childhood hero worship was undeniably cute, especially when it his young sir.

B – Baseball

There were few things Steve loved more than baseball. When he'd been sharing an apartment with Bucky they'd save up enough spare change between the two of them to go to one Brooklyn Dodgers game a season and would sneak into the rest or listen on the radio. Though baseball seemed to have fallen out of favor as the biggest sport in the country since he'd gone under it was still an American classic and Steve wasn't planning on giving up his devotion.

Unfortunately none of his teammates had understood his dedication when they'd first started to bond together. Clint only cared about football, Bruce found sports in general violent and uninteresting, Thor didn't find them violent enough, and Natasha only payed attention during the Olympics and would only pull for "Mother Russia", as Clint jokingly called it.

So Steve spent his games days in privacy to shout and yell without disturbing anyone else who wanted to watch. It was kind of lonely, but once he really got into the game he usually forgot that he was by himself without anyone to vent to and cheer along with.

Then one day that changed.

It'd been a complete surprise when one Saturday in the third inning of the Dodgers game Steve had been watching by himself in the living room Tony had wandered in, blinked when he noticed what was on the screen, and made a beeline for the couch. Steve hadn't even realized Tony was in the room until he felt the cushion shift at his right and looked over to see Tony watching with attentive eyes.

"Um, Tony? What are you doing here?" Steve questioned.

Tony sipped his ever-present cup of coffee as the smartly dressed woman on the screen rattled off stats of the opposing team's pitcher and raised a cocky eyebrow. "What does it look like Cap? I'm watching the game."

Steve gave an unconvinced look. "I meant, why are you in here watching a baseball game with me? No one else in the tower likes sports, let alone baseball."

Tony was smug. "And whoever said that?"

Realization sparked and Steve stared at him in surprise. "You're a baseball fan?"

Tony took a languid sip of his coffee, steam rising up in wisps from the dark liquid. When he moved it away his lips were curled in a wistful smile of summertime childhood memories.

"When I was a kid Aunt Peggy would take me to Dodgers games as a sort of bonding thing. She would always tell me about how you loved the sport so much that there had to be some merit in it and since nobody but me was willing to try them with her it sort of became our thing."

Tony laughed, lighthearted and freely. It was like apple trees and fireflies.

Then breath left Steve's chest at the mention of the British woman he'd fallen for during the war, now long lost to him. He hadn't known Peggy and Tony had known each other or that she'd told Tony stories anything about him. It was oddly comforting, knowing that someone besides himself had known his companions from the war, had known that they existed. It made it a bit easier to let them go.

Tony kicked his feet up onto Steve's lap, lounging against the armrest. The billionaire was completely comfortable with the casual contact and truthfully, so was Steve.

"Now unpause the game and let's get back to watching. I'm already three innings behind because Jarvis forgot to tell me it started, you little bastard."

"My dearest apologies sir, I merely was unsure you would appreciate being interrupted from your work." Jarvis apologized graciously from the ceiling, unapologetic as ever.

Tony crossed his arms and huffed. Steve chuckled as he unpaused the game, wondering how a full grown man could imitate a pouting child so well.

Nearly a year later, Tony pouted in a similar fashion as his blond boyfriend dragged him through the stands to their seat at the first Dodgers game of the season. "But, but, but – I never claimed I liked going to those awful games with Peggy!" Tony shouted. He waved his arms wildly as he spoke as if that would help his case. "We both despised that stupid complicated game! We only went to mock it together!"

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face. "Well then it's a shame you made me think you liked baseball because Natasha got us season's tickets as a get-together present. You're going to have to come watch every single one of these with me."

Tony groaned in horror. "I just wanted to impress you and possibly sleep with you! Is that too much to ask?"

C – Crucifix

He looked like a butterfly pinned to a display.

There was railway spike driven through the palm of his hand – a needle through a paper thin wing. It leaked blood in thin trails, red dripping down pale skin, impaling his flesh and the rough stone table beneath him.

Another spike was stabbed through his other palm, face up, slightly rusted, and bare torso was crisscrossed with purposeful knife cuts that made intricate, delicate patterns on his chest. There was no telling what the symbols meant or what they were for, only that the heretics who made them believed his death served some greater purpose to their religion. His torture and death was required in the minds of the carvers, celebrated in a way, like a sacrifice of one to a volcano to save hundreds.

The soldier would ensure they burned in hell if he had to drag them down there himself.

The lower half of his body was still incased in the Iron Man suit. It'd been torn off at the waist, leaving bent metal and twisting wires that left off a flurry of sparks in random bursts at his hips; he wasn't how they had managed to rip the suit in half without ripping him in half too.

Jagged edges cut at his hips where the torn metal met skin, shallow and stained red. Pieces of the defaced suit were scattered on the concrete floor of the dank, chilly basement. Still intact, the legs of the red and gold suit gleamed dully in the artificial light of a single hanging light bulb, drained bloodless. Another corpse.

The irony of the positioning was not lost on the soldier: Iron Man's hands nailed to a stone slab that was shaped in a cross, a gaudy gold plastic crown bedazzled with scarlet fake jewels mockingly perched on his hair that they'd probably bought at a party store. Tony had been infamous for his exploits courting sin in his younger days and so the fanatics had crucified him to cleanse him of his faults.

It made the soldier sick.

And as Captain America stared down at the peaceful expression on his dead Iron Man with a slowly mounting dark fury, he swore not a single person responsible would leave this compound alive.

~ I hope you enjoyed the beginning of my little experiment! Feel free to suggest simple words for each letter 'cause I love the chance to challenge myself to find inspiration from the bare minimum. I will be experimenting with styles of writing so if some letters are written differently it's on purpose.