darthstitch:

It is the Grand Tradition of the Blanket Fort that every time determamfidd​ updates Sansukh, I must offer something to the Gods and Goddesses of Crack.

Therefore:

Occasionally, the Interdimensional/Multiverse Vacuum Cleaner of Doom a.k.a. I’m Not the Bloody TARDIS You Berks will respond to a Cry of Feels that is so epic, so powerful, that nothing less than Earth’s Mightiest Heroes will do in order to fix the situation.

Even if the tragedy in question was taking place on Middle-earth.

Dain Ironfoot was meant to die on this day, in this battle that would end up merely as a footnote in the histories of the War of the Ring, for all its vital importance.  It would be left for others to tell about the courage of the Dwarves of Erebor, of the Lady Selga and her bow, of Dis – sister to Thorin Oakenshield and her desperate defense of her beloved kinsman, of how Dagalur of the Orcs would finally meet her dreadful and well-deserved doom.  

Dain Ironfoot was ready for death and he did not fear it and he was looking forward to finally punching his stubborn stone-brained cousin in that fine Durin nose once he got to Mahal’s Halls.

He did regret leaving his living family behind and he would have loved to dandle his future grandbabies on his knee. 

He did regret that look of grief and fury upon Dis’ face, who would lose one of her family to war, yet again.

And then —

Well, this was passing strange, because there they were, these strangers with their otherworldly weapons – the fair-haired warrior who could call upon the lightning with his hammer, the Man in the iron suit, the red-haired woman who fell upon the Orcs with her strange weapons, the Archer, the gray-eyed man with the metal arm, the enormous green giant with his amusingly Hobbit-y fluffy feet and their Captain with his shield.

The Captain flashed a reassuring smile at the stunned Dain and Dis, who still had her own weapons to bear. 

“We’re here to help, Your Majesty.”  And then he cried out in a great voice:

Avengers, assemble!

And thus, Dain Ironfoot would live to see another day.  It would be with great glee that he would learn about Gimli falling in love with Thranduil’s son, because watching the Elf-king have kittens over this news was absolutely priceless.  He would live to see his grandbabies and also watch as all the wee badgers of Erebor would consequently adopt Prince Laerophen of Mirkwood and absolutely refuse to return him to his flabbergasted father. 

“HE’S OURS AND WE’RE KEEPING HIM!” hollered Gimizh Cookie-thief.

Laerophen absolutely did not object. 

Thus it was that the history of Middle-earth was changed, just a little, by the Avengers, who stayed on in Middle-earth for a longer visit, because reasons.

– end –

Note:  LOOK IF WE’RE ALL IN DENIAL OVER THORIN’S DEATH THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CAN’T BE IN DENIAL OVER DAIN IRONFOOT BECAUSE DAIN IS AWESOME AND DETS CONVERTED ME TO THE LOVE OF DAIN TOO, OKAY? OKAY.