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About Literature / Hobbyist Member ToriFemale/United States Groups :iconsave-the-gaurdians: Save-The-Gaurdians
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(Contains: strong language)
Orion is squeezing me into a tight black leather gown. My face was already waxed, and tweezed and all that jazz. My legs and arms we waxed, and my hair was washed three times over. He finally gets me into it, and zips it in the back.
“There.” He says. He holds up a pair of high heeled black leather boots. I slip them onto my feet.
“They fit perfectly!!” Orion smiles at me. He holds up a box of makeup, and a hairbrush and PLENTY of hair accessories. I sit in the arm chair. Orion got started on my makeup immediately.
After another half hour, my hair was up in a bun, several black roses stuck into it. My makeup consisted of black eyeshadow, large false black eyelashes, black cateye eyeliner, and a dark red lipstick. No blush. No foundation. I look at myself in the mirror.
“Am I ready, Orion?” He smiles at me.
“Almost. Here.” He holds out a small, silver necklace with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on it. A few tears slip out of my eyes.
“It’s beautiful!” I say, holding it against my chest. Orion smiles and puts it on me.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady.” He holds out his hand to me and I take it. We head over to the elevator. After three floors, the elevator stops, and in comes Tony and his stylist, a woman with short, bright blue hair, tattoos on her arms and chest, a low cut black dress, combat boots, and black lipstick. Tony sees me and immediately tackles me into a hug. We cling onto each other. We take a step back and look at each other. His hair is greased back, and he’s wearing a leather cat suit, with a black jacket with coattails hanging down in the back, and black leather combat boots. We hold each other’s hands, just looking at each other. I notice that he has a S.H.I.E.L.D logo ring, that matches my necklace. We notice the pieces of jewelry at the same time.
“Nice necklace.” He smirks.
“Nice ring.” I laugh. The elevator stops and the doors open, to the basement floor of the building. I see chariots everywhere. A black one, a dark purple one, a red and gold one, a red and silver one, a dark green and black one, a lighter green and purple one, a blue and red one, A light blue one, and a (favorite color) one. I try to pinpoint which chariot will be who’s, when I suddenly hear screaming and sobbing behind me. I whirl around, to see none other than Natasha Romanov, sobbing. I’ve never seen her cry, nor known that she could. I run towards her.
“Natasha…” I kneel down next to her and she clings to me.
“I don’t want to die, (Name)! And I don’t want to have to die at the hands of my friends!” She sobs.
“None of us do, Tasha. This is fucked up, and whomever made this decision should be put in here with us.” I let her go and stand up.
“Ya hear that, fuckhead?! You should be put in here with us, you demon from the deepest depths of hell! You’re making us kill each other on live TV, while our families and friends watch, just for your fucked up entertainment! Well fuck you!” I scream into the air.
“It’s time to get on the chariot, (Name).” Orion says. I follow him, saying nothing.
Avengers X Reader ~ Hunger Games (P4) Chariots
ENJOY!!!!!! :D 

Sorry about the language. 
The ship lands and we are all whisked off to separate rooms. My room is all the way on the top floor of the large building. On the way up in the glass elevator, I pass the floors of the other tributes. I pass Loki, who glares at me, I pass Steve who gives me a sad, teary face, and Tony who gives me a determined nod. The elevator stops on the highest floor, and the doors open. It is a large, penthouse apartment, with a nice spread of food on the large dining table. I sit down at the head of the table, and make myself a plate of food. A loud voice comes over the intercom.
“Miss (Last Name), sit here, your stylist will be here to greet you soon.”
“J.A.R.V.I.S?” There was no response. I realized then, that this is all different. I know nothing about these surroundings. This world is foreign to me. If I learned one thing from being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and that is that new things are NEVER to be trusted. I stand up and being walking to the door.
“Miss (Last Name), I’m sorry, but you are not allowed to leave. If you want to go home, you’ll have to win, by killing your opponents.”
“But my opponents are my friends. I can’t kill them!” There is no response. Suddenly, the doors fly open, and in steps a man. He has black skinny jeans, a tight black tee shirt, black combat boots, a leather jacket, and spiked blonde hair. Fashionable.
“Hello.” He greets.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your stylist. My name is Orion Terk.” He kisses my hand.
“So….you’re supposed to make me look pretty? You’re supposed to help me make friends.”
“I’m supposed to help you get sponsors. I’m supposed to help you stay alive.”
“Okay. So what now?”
“Getting you ready for the tribute parade.”
The Avengers X Reader ~ Hunger Games (P3)- Stylist
Enjoy :D

We sit in the airship, staring out the window, thinking of our impending death, and the fact that we’ll most likely end up killing each other. Fury sits down next to us.
“Good news. Asgard is sending in some tributes too! And, Pepper Potts has been picked to go in too.” Tony makes a choked noise.
“Which Asgardians are going to be in this?” I ask.
“Which ones do you think?”
“Oh no...You guys! We HAVE to be allies with Thor, or else we won’t even stand a chance of winning.”
“We have no chance of winning anyway!” Bruce yells.
“Bruce! Why are you always like this?!”
“Oh please! Without Stark’s suit, Rogers’ shield, Barton’s bow, Romanov’s guns, and your (weapon of choice), we’re screwed!”
“They’ll have weapons in the arena for you guys.”
“Will they have a bow?” Clint asks, hopefully.
“They have knives, swords, bows, arrows, and axes, I believe.”
“I can make due with that.” I say.
“So what exactly happens when the airship lands?” Natasha asks.
“When the ship lands, you will all be taken to separate living quarters, where you will meet your stylist, and they will get you ready for the tribute parade, then after the tribute parade, you will be escorted back to your room, then the next day you will go to the training center and train and get ready for the worst time of your lives. Then, the next day, you will be sent into the arena, where you will stay, until only one of you is left alive. That person, is the victor. Or, the survivor. Clear?” Fury says.
“Yeah…” I say quietly, looking out the window again.
It was somehow decided that there was to be something called “The Hunger Games” once a year, and different organizations would have to choose six “tributes”, to send into an arena to fight to the death. Apparently they whoever decided this got the idea from a book or something. Anyway, Fury has a bowl of all of the names of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and he is starting to pick out the six unfortunate bastards that have to go fight to the death in an arena. I squeeze my eyes shut and continue to cling onto Clint’s hand. Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Natasha stand on my other side. All of our hands are clasped together. Fury holds up the first slip of paper. He opens it. He sighs a little before reading the name out loud.
“Bruce Bannar.” He reads. We look at Bruce, shocked and upset. He slowly makes him way to the front of the crowd and stands in front of Fury. Fury pulls another slip out of the bowl and offers it to Bruce. Bruce declines, so Fury reads it. He closes his eye for a second then opens it and reads the slip.
“Steve Rogers.”
“No! Steve!” Coulson cries from somewhere near that back of the crowd.
“I volunteer! Please!” He cries again.
“No, Agent Coulson. There are no volunteers.” Fury says. Coulson let’s out a small sob, then he’s quiet. He’s probably begging to get picked. Steve goes up to the front and stands next to Bruce. We all stand silently, waiting for the next name to be called. Fury picks up the next slip of paper.
“Natasha Romanov.” He reads. She begins to walk towards the stage, but Clint grabbed her arm.
“Tasha! No!” He sobs. She shrugs his hand off and continues walking towards our other two unfortunate friends.
“Just three more.” Fury mummbles. He takes out the next slip.
“Tony Stark.” He says, choking back emotion. Tony drops my hand and walks up to the front, he usual strutt and his signature smirk gone. Clint and I cling onto each other’s hand tighter, afraid that if we let go, we’ll be taken from each other. Fury wants this to be over as much as we do, that he doesn’t waste any time on the next name. Clint and I squeeze our eyes shut.
“(First name) (Last Name).” He reads. My breath catches in my throat. Clint and I look at each other. He gives my hand one more squeeze, and I make my way up to the front. Fury takes a breath.
“Last one people. I’m so sorry.” He pulls out another slip of paper.
“Clint Barton.” He reads. Almost too eagerly, Clint comes up and stands next to us.
“The Tributes, from S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury says, motioning towards us. I let out a small sob. I look back over the faces of my fellow agents, memorizing them, as this will be the last time I get to see them. Fury ushers us out of the room and into an airship.
Avengers X Reader ~ Hunger Games (P1)
My new series! The other night, I was watching the Avengers, then I was watching The Hunger Games, and I decided, Hey, why not combine the two? So...BOOM! This miracle was born. Enjoy :)
Does anyone know any good Art/Preforming Arts Colleges? 
  • Mood: Vengeful
  • Listening to: The Wolf by Phildel
And you once said I wish you dead you sinner,
I'll never be more than a wolf at your door for dinner,
And if I see you 'round like a ghost in my town, you liar, 
I'll leave with your head oh I'll leave you for dead, sire.


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