#operatives got caught in the blast AND one of the band members was shot to death. cant claim that the bands supposed smuggled goods

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Injured (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer is in the hospital, and you’re worried sick.

Warnings: Mention of explosives, some description of injuries but not too graphic. (Definitely not medically accurate but whatever.) Some language.

Notes: Angsty fluff. I know i said i would write about Peter Parker next but i had this idea and couldn’t write anything else until i finished it so. I tried to make the reader a sarcastic but i’m worried she just came off as a bitch so let me know if she seemed too rude or not lol

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

“Have a good day at work, Spence. Try not to get shot.”

“I’ll do my best.”

That’s what you say to Spencer everyday before he leaves your shared apartment. You always said it in a joking manner, even though you mean it. Throughout your relationship, he’d managed to follow your advice. Besides a couple scrapes and bruises, he was always as careful as he could be on the job; which you always appreciated. You’d heard some stories of what Spencer had gone through before the two of you met, and you were eternally grateful that you hadn’t had to experience anything like that. That is, until you got a call as you were leaving work today.

“Hello, this is Y/N.” You said through your phone, not recognizing the number that called you.

“Y/N Y/L/N? I’m calling you from D.C General Hospital, we have you listed as the emergency contact for Spencer Reid…” As the nurse continued to speak, your heart dropped. Tears immediately formed in your eyes as you practically ran out of your office building and to your car. The nurse said he couldn’t give you any information about Spencer’s injuries until you arrived at the hospital, and you might’ve had a few choice words to say back. You knew he was just doing his job, but the man wouldn’t even tell you whether or not Spencer was alive. “Asshole.” You thought as you started your car and hung up your phone.

You drove way over the speed limit, especially once the news station playing through your radio announced what you assumed to be the cause of Spencer’s injuries.

“...The coffee shop exploded at 4:29 pm today....the FBI has not confirmed or denied if this was the actions of the same criminal who attacked a local grocery store and pharmacy last week...4 confirmed casualties, and an unknown number of injuries at this time…”

You knew that Spencer had been working the serial bomber case with the BAU, and as you finally arrived at the hospital, you could only pray to every god you could think of that Spencer is going to be ok.

“Spencer Reid! I’m here for Spencer Reid!” You loudly spoke to the woman at the front desk of the Emergency Room as you ran up to her. 

“Y/N?” You turned your head to a group of people you had run past to get to the front desk; you only recognized one of them. JJ.

“Jayje, how is he? Where is he? Is he ok? Can I see him?” You rambled off every question that had been running through your head as JJ pulled you in for a hug. You noticed that she had a large band-aid on her forehead; she must have been injured too. 

“He’s gonna be ok Y/N/N, we’re just waiting for a doctor to come and update us. He and Emily were both close to the explosion. They’re in surgery now, but the doctor said they should be alright. Standard operations.” She reassured you, bringing you over to the rest of the team, who you had yet to meet. “Guys, this is Y/N. She’s Spencer’s girlfriend. This is Penelope, Derek, Aaron, and David.” She introduced you to each member of the team, who you had heard countless stories about.

“Nice to put faces to the names. I wish it was under better circumstances.” You said, reaching out to shake each of their hands. Except Penelope, who pulled you in for a hug.

“I’m glad we finally get to meet the beautiful girl Spencer is always talking about. You look much better in person than in your passport picture.” You pulled away from Penelope’s hug and gave her a very confused look at her words. “Oh, um, I did some digging when I found out Spencer had a girl. Don’t tell him though, I promised I wouldn’t.” For the first time since you got the phone call, a small laugh escaped your lips. You know for a fact Spencer had refused to even tell Penelope your first name to keep her from digging up your past, but clearly that hadn’t stopped her.

“The doctor said it could be a few hours. Please, wait with us. Perhaps getting to know each other will keep our minds off Reid and Prentiss.” Aaron said, leading you back over to where they had been sitting. And so the waiting game began.

~~~

It had been 3 hours. Emily’s surgery went by successfully, but there was still no word on Spencer. Emily had been a little further from the blast, which threw her onto the ground and caused a worrying amount of debris to land on her. Spencer had been thrown into the windshield of a car that had been parked nearby. Luckily, the car had stopped any debris from the explosion to hit him, but Spencer had gone right through the windshield. The only good result of the explosion is that they had caught the unsub as he attempted to run away from the scene.

To keep your minds off of waiting for news for Spencer, the group had moved to Emily’s recovery room. You told the group how you and Spencer had met, how long you’d been together, how Spencer had been planning to finally introduce you to the team after you got settled in your new apartment. It wasn’t until you left the room to get a cup of coffee that a doctor approached you.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked, having recognized you from delivering the good news about Emily earlier.

“Yes? Is Spencer’s surgery over? Is he ok?”

“Yes ma’am, he’s in room 204. His surgery went perfectly, and he should be waking up soon. He’s going to need to stay here for a few days to recover, but he’ll be completely fine.” With a quick thank you to the doctor, you ran back to Emily’s room, 207, to tell the group.

“Spence is out of surgery, room 204!” You said quickly, and without waiting for a response, you left the room and went to find Spencer.

When you entered the room, tears returned to your eyes. Spencer was sleeping, and had cuts basically everywhere on his body, some of them fixed with stitches. His arm was also in a cast. You grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and pulled it towards Spencer’s bed, sitting next to him. Behind you, JJ, Penelope, and David walked in, while Derek and Aaron had stayed behind with Emily.

“Th-um. The doctor said he should wake up soon. He’ll have to stay here a few days.” Your voice was weak as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Everyone else was quiet, not wanting to wake Spencer before he was ready. You waited for another hour for Spencer to wake up. During that time, Spencer’s co-workers drifted between Emily and Spencer’s rooms. Penelope offered to get you food and coffee, but your appetite had disappeared. You just sat by Spencer, waiting. You downloaded one of Spencer’s favorite books on your phone, War and Peace, and quietly read to him. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s whisper brought your attention away from the book. 

“Hey Spence.” You whispered back. You leaned down to give Spencer a quick kiss on his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you almost blew up. How are you actually feeling?” Spencer always had the habit of downplaying his feelings, because he didn’t want to feel like a burden. You weren’t going to let him act like this wasn’t a big deal.

“...Everything hurts. Did they catch the guy?” 

“They caught him. I’ll ask a nurse to bring you more pain meds.” You said, pressing a button on the side of his bed that should alert a nurse to come check on Spencer. “I told you to try to not get hurt this morning, Spence. You had one job.” You joked, trying to make him feel a little better.

“Actually, you told me to not get shot. So technically, I did my job.” 

“Shut up.” You mumbled, giving him a quick kiss. You were interrupted by Penelope coming into the room.

“Oh my god you’re awake! You’re ok! I can’t believe you kept Y/N from us, she’s amazing, but I can’t get mad at you right now because I’m so happy that you’re ok!”

~~~

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds

[chaniters]

Masquerade

The next part of @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac fic.  Writing the final parts of this finally!

Infiltrating GeniTech’s party, the rangers attempt to change the board’s mind about the riot, but things on the inside aren’t as calm as they initially seem. 

Spoilers ahead for Rebirth, as usual. 

__________________________________

You glance nervously to your left, as a whole platoon of soldiers clad in articulated carapace armors scrambles through the corridors ahead of you.

In your mind, GeniTech’s Arcology is now the Trojan fortification, the rioters are the greek, and the lot of you are a an improvised rebellious third party refusing to let history repeat itself, hidden inside the wooden horse Ortega asked you to build. All you can do is hope it won’t get burnt before crossing the gate.  

“You’re clear.” the guard announces. “Excuse me for the delay, we didn’t think anyone would be joining this late… especially with what’s happening…”

Ortega watches him without a word, before putting his mask back on. 

“...Enjoy the party” the guard states drily, opening the gate. 

All of you walk past, putting your masks back on, not stopping until the elevator’s doors close. It quickly fires upwards, taking you to the upper floor, where GeniTech’s Halloween celebration takes place. 

“Well done everyone,” Ortega says when it seems no guards are listening. 

Elyise disabled the dampeners, Steel used your scrambler to deactivate their retinal scan and you made them think you were legitimate party guests and that everything was in order. Anathema added fake zippers and other details to your suits so they have a Halloween-costume flair to them.   

This would have been pretty standard infiltration were you still at the farm, but it’s blowing your mind for completely different reasons.  Most humans wouldn’t know what to say to their creator if that even existed. That’s no dilemma for you, though.  The farm might have assembled you, but GeniTech came up with the very idea of you. What would you say to them, the people who invented you? What would you even…-

“Be on alert everyone,” you say coming back to earth. “Steel, will use his scanners to find board members. Elyise will deactivate the scramblers in the area one at a time. The rest, distract them with conversation until Ortega can get into position, and then…” you go on explaining. 

You suggested using your powers to change the Boards mind and let the people take refuge in the Arcology, but, it was Ortega who came up with this infernal plan. You have to admit it was a really good one. You still suggested a ton of changes needed for it to actually work, and the Marshall ended up putting you in charge in return. Steel’s glare made It’s painfully obvious everyone now knows you’ve got more experience with covert operations than any of them suspected, a point you had been trying to conceal, but that can’t be helped. 

“We’re here. Remember, mingle and wait for Steel’s word. Ready, Marshall?” you ask looking to Ortega, who gives a quick nod, giving this operation the go signal.

___________________________________

“...We appreciate power

I'll evade the human race, putting makeup on my face…”

You being you, the lyrics are frankly disturbing. At least that’s all you can think as you turn your back on the live band, broadcast via a hologram on the stage.

You take a drink from a passing waiter and walk up to the glass wall. The sight is magnificent from atop the central spire of the arcology, even obscured as it is now, possibly to diminish the sight of the fires and the approaching riot.  As Ortega Explained, Halloween has a different meaning for the genecorps. They created superheroes and their worship. These parties are an occasion to dress up as their creations, bask in their glory, and the profits they bring. There are posters of all of GeniTechs’ sponsored heroes on the walls. Even with the dampeners online, you can almost feel the gigantic egos of everyone inside.

It’s easy to understand why won’t they just call off the party from up here. This whole building is a pharaonic monument to their vanity and pride, and they won’t let Psychopathor, the public or anyone else get in their way. They own the west coast and will prove their power to anyone who dares interfere. If there has to be a war, they have the guns, soldiers and the technology to win it. They will put the rabble back in their place, or at least that’s what they think will happen. 

These people are loaded to a degree you hadn’t even considered could exist.  Their impossibly expensive costumes are sometimes better than those worn by some actual heroes you’ve met. There is an Owl walking by that has a reactive armor piece that the original could never afford. You saw someone wearing your own hero persona in a skintight armored nanomesh that could have taken bullets as if they were candy. She scoffed at your own, by comparison, shoddy suit, leaving you with all manner of questions. 

Are you the knockoff here?!

“Big party, huh?” someone says, holding a drink next to you. “First time to an event like this”

You turn to see The Void, drinking a colored shot next to you, only his lips visible with the mask partially pulled up.

“You too?” you say trying to strike a conversation, as you were taught to do. “I must confess, I’ve never seen a party like this before.”  

“Well, I plan to see many more like this my friend,” he says with a mischievous soft smile. “Many, many more”

As he says that, you notice many things happening at once.

First, you hear Steel on your left ear, confirming a board member is in your vicinity, which means you should pull over. Before you manage a full step back from the glass wall and this man talking to you, you can feel your thoughts relaxing and the dampeners going down. 

You expand your mind, ready to home in the GeniTech executive like a hornet… but instead realizing the man beside you is the real-

“Nath?!” you exclaim before bitting your tongue. 

“Awan?” he says spilling his drink, glowing eyes on his mask fixated onto you in shock. 

Neither of you even think, farm training actings on its own. Your hand reaches forward, trying to bend his arm backward, but knowing you’re better at judo he spins faster to avoid your grab. You took your chance and failed, and there’s no way to avoid the incoming kick that pushes you deeper into the crowd of fancy rich assholes playing armored heroes and villains. 

A false Green Blast and Ophidian both curse ruining their looks, and by the time you get free of them, The Void has banished among the other costumes. 

“Sidestep! Sidestep, come in?!” Steel’s voice in your ear becomes audible again. “We’ve got the executive! Hurry up”

“I… I just saw The Void,” you say 

“What?!” Ortega’s voice floods the channel. “Mierda, who invited that asshole?”

“ I don’t know… He was just standing there and…”

The music goes on.

“Sidestep, are you ok? You’re looking drowsy” Ortega’s question lingers in your ears.  

The room seems to be spinning with all these insane people’s minds clashing against your weak shields. You hold on to a tall table for a moment, trying to get the world back into focus. 

“I’m ok. Void distracted me, and you know I have to prepare around crowds. These people’s egos are immense, taking it all in after the dampeners went off is too much… and the music’s not helping either.”

“Awan, can you still do this?” he asks

“Yes.” you say straightening up. “I’m ok. Just needed a moment, I’m fine now.” 

“Ok… well then I say we go as planned... Everyone keep watch for The Void. We don’t know what’s he’s doing here and…” 

The music, lights, and everything seems to go off at once, along with his communication. 

Shit.

You’re not caught unaware this time and immediately switch to night vision. All the partygoers seem to be expecting something to happen. Maybe some sort of surprise?

“Use the secondary channel!” you hear Ortega’s voice again, and you quickly adjust, as everyone on the team asks what’s going on.

“Maybe it’s a surprise?” Sunstream asks “I hear these parties can go wild…”

“I don’t think so, this is all too much of a coincidence…” Sentinel says “Something is wrong, I can feel it and...”

The lights go back on, the crowd cheering as Reaper himself is now on stage, wearing his dark cloak, hood and trademark glowing spectral scythe in his left hand. Everybody loves a real legend like him, standing taller than life. 

Still, the cheers die off rather quickly, as they follow his right arm, noticing that he is strangling GeniTech’s CEO with his skeletal fingers while his white skull cackles in a decidedly macabre and less than jovial tone. The scream of pain, the skin wrinkling, the hair going white, turning into a husk, a skeleton, and then finally breaking to pieces and disintegrating… It all seems far too realistic. A few people on the front row cough as they are bathed in handfuls of the floating dust, and everyone’s deathly silent by then.

“Sentinel dear, do you ever get tired of being so fucking right?” Elyise asks tiredly.  

___________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

The song is We Appreciate Power by Grimes, which of course I do not own.

#fallen hero: rebirth #amazing @Kruk-Art #Awan Cormac #Fanfiction #Fallen Hero Spoilers #Rangers

[planarchaosproject]

Planar Chaos: One Shots

 The Cell Block Tango

Marthel rolled out of bed to a pounding on his door. He stumbled across his bedroom, tripping and pulling the curtains open to reveal the shimmering spires of the Church of Deals caught in the noonday sun that graced the world outside of his townhouse.

"Nadia forgot her key again," he grumbled, pulling on pants so as not to make the angel uncomfortable. From what Marthel had gathered, angels possessed no primary sex characteristics and his angel in particular was both confused and embarrassed by mortal anatomy.

He swiped his knuckleblade fur jacket off of a chair and shrugged it over his shoulders. The pounding continued, but this time accompanied by a loud voice shouting "In the name of the Grand Arbiter and the Guildpact, open this door!"

"I'm coming," Marthel called, unsure of why justicars would be banging on his door at such an absurdly early hour. He rubbed his throbbing temples and commented "that's the last time I drink with elves," knowing it to be a boldfaced lie. He tied back his locs with a leather cord before opening the door. He wanted to get a good look at the justicar disturbing his traditional Temur hangover cure.

"Jace Marthel, you are under arrest." The words had barely been processed by Marthel's brain before cuffs were slapped around his wrist and he was being dragged to an armored transport. No less than seven justicars had been sent to arrest him.

"Uh, excuse me," Marthel said. When he was ignored, he increased the pitch and volume of his voice. "Excuse me! What exactly am I being arrested for?"

"We received a tip that this house was being utilized as a base of operations for a smuggling and money-laundering ring. Contacts with the Orzhov confirm the tipster's initial suspicions. You are under arrest as the ringleader of said organization." The justicar didn't so much as look at Marthel when she spoke to him.

"But I'm innocent!" Marthel protested. He struggled against the thick handcuffs. They only grew tighter.

"The prisoner will remain silent." The justicar's voice took on a double tone and Marthel found himself unable to speak. He spent the majority of his ride in the armored transport attempting to make a noise and being unable to get air past his vocal cords.

At least they aren't cruel, he thought to himself. He'd certainly had cruel jailers during his time roaming from plane to plane. There had been times where he would have wasted away without Nadia's intervention. The strength of angels was something to be feared no matter what world he found himself on, but the Azorius had no fear of those more powerful than they. The laws were on their side and law magic had a very powerful position on the plane of Ravnica. The Guildpact worked tirelessly to keep any one guild from gaining the upper hand over the other nine. So far it had been a success.

The justicars roughly tossed Marthel out of the transport. He was hauled up by his armpits and ushered through the halls of a large prison made of the same pristine white marble as the towers of New Prahv. That had been the first sight Marthel had seen upon planeswalking to Ravnica, and the blue form of Isperia settled on top of the highest tower had taken his breath away. At the moment, however, a blue sphinx with all powerful wisdom wouldn't be coming to his rescue. He doubted even Trostani and the Selesnya Conclave could convince the Azorius of his innocence. Then again, Marthel was a human. Trostani did have a certain distrust of humanity and their variable nature as a race. There wasn't any consistency, what she termed harmony, among humans the way elves seemed to live in harmony with one another and their ideals. Occasionally her proselytizing began to fall into a flat monotone in Marthel's ears, but her guild was an incredibly calming place to be whenever Marthel was feeling stressed.

The walls of the prison block rose around him. They almost reminded him of the stalwart cities of Bant, but that memory was tainted by the aftermath of the Conflux. Bant had fallen. It was no more and he and Nadia were all that was left of that once thriving kingdom of order. Marthel didn't miss the order, per se, he just missed the comfort of knowing what was expected of him. It was a simpler time when he didn't have the burden of the secrets of the multiverse on his shoulders. Nadia provided some relief from that burden outside of his loose network of planeswalker friends.

Speaking…er… thinking of Nadia, where was she? She'd surely be back at the house by now.

000000

Nadia arrived home with an armful of groceries and the distinct smell of death hovering around her. She breathed through her mouth, trying her best to keep the stench that lingered on the produce, cheerfully labelled with bright stickers "Fresh from the Golgari Rot Farms!" She fished around in her satchel for the house key and stopped dead in her tracks. The door hung open, hinges creaking in the breeze. A notice pinned to the doorjamb bore the Azorius guild crest.

A pile of fresh produce was now horribly bruised and the air was filled with the frantic flapping of an angel's wings and a string of colorful swears Nadia did not learn on Bant.

000000

Marthel was tossed into a cell, hands still bound. He'd begun to lose feeling in his fingertips. The door slammed shut and the soft blue glow of a stasis field radiated from the walls. A small, black mound shifted as the justicars left them alone. Marthel scooted back to the wall.

"They finally give me a cell mate, huh?" A woman with dark hair caught up in a loose bun emerged from the dark cloak. Black feathers fluttered to the ground.

"I suppose," Marthel said defensively.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the woman said. She extended her hands, also bound in cuffs, towards Marthel. "My name is Ashleigh."

"Marthel," he replied, shaking her hand awkwardly.

"So, Marthel, you ready to blow this joint?" Ashleigh smiled wickedly. "I'm sure my boyfriend misses me terribly, and you've got a friend or two searching for you as well, I imagine."

Marthel smirked. "What do you have in mind? These aren't just standard issue cuffs."

"They also can't stand up to a good spark jolt." Lightning crackled around Ashleigh's hands. She gripped Marthel's handcuffs and poured electrical energy through them, frying their locking mechanisms. Marthel's cuffs fell away.

"How can you do magic in here?" Marthel asked, rubbing his wrists as Ashleigh removed her own cuffs. "The law magic of the Guildpact should keep everything in order."

"Honey, I'm not from here." That was her only explanation.

"Honestly," Marthel said, "neither am I."

"You ready to burn this place to the ground?"

"They locked me up on false charges. Absolutely."

The guards outside were completely caught off guard when the door to one of their maximum security cells was blown off its hinges by a fireball twirling around a fork of red lightning. Ashleigh and Marthel bolted out, their spell abandoned to wreak whatever havoc it could in its brief lifetime. Various other cells were blasted open and a slew of criminals joined in their prison break. Guards were either incapacitated or outright killed and resurrected as zombies to aid in their escape.

"That," Marthel said, stopping at the door to their block, "is going to be a problem."

Ashleigh cracked her knuckles. "I don't think so. Get behind me."

The gaggle of prisoners crowded in behind the crazed electromancer. Ashleigh planted her feet and dug deep into her power, dredging up any spells she could find floating around in the memories of the people around her.

"Ooh," she once again donned the wicked smile. "Marthel do you mind if I borrow this?"

"Borrowing implies an intent to return," he responded. This woman had to be a planeswalker. He could just feel it. There was no way she could do these things and not have a spark. But she was still full of surprises. Cracks appeared around the edges of the door and radiated outward, loud peals of thunder alerting them to new shatter points behind and beyond the doors. Marthel pulled a sword off of a zombie in anticipation of the bloodbath that was to come. He licked his lips as part of the ceiling crumbled away, landing mere inches away yet eliciting no response from Marthel.

The door crumbled and an army of justicars and members of the Boros legion stood in the way of Marthel's little band of prisoners.

"Halt in the name of the Grand Arbiter and the Guildpact!"

"I don't think so," Marthel shouted, leaping into action. His sword glowed white hot as it cleaved through flesh. He smiled wildly, each shriek of agony music to his ears.

"Having fun?" Ashleigh called from somewhere in the fray.

"Absolutely," Marthel responded. Blood splattered across his face. Bodies that could still function were raised into an ever growing army of zombies.

"Have you ever raised a corpse before?" Ashleigh asked, catching up to him. Her hair was caked in blood and it had smeared across her face, Marthel's little ragtag battalion was not holding together well at all.

"I can do a lot of things, Ashleigh," Marthel said, catching his breath, "but I'm not good at all of them."

The scene unfolding before the justicars was one out of their worst nightmares. Two prisoners who were certainly powerful, but not overly so, had broken out of their cell and torn their way through two cell blocks, freeing others along the way. Their fallen comrades were immediately defiled and turned on them, slicing through their brothers in arms without so much as a spark of recognition. The walls of their prison, once pristine white, were crumbling around them. The chain of command was broken and they were rapidly running out of options.

To make matters worse, a deranged angel was banging on the door demanding for their newest prisoner's release. Her sword was unsheathed and several Boros angels had engaged her in battle only to be beaten back.

"She fights with great strength," one of the angels cried to a soldier below who had decided to try his luck. Within moments his head was rolling across the ground and the renegade angel continued beating down the door.

The smoldering ruins of the prison cell blocks behind them created a terrifying image for the everyday citizen when Marthel and Ashleigh at last erupted triumphantly like a volcano of unholy fire and lightning. Four city blocks in each direction went dark due to the overload on their power systems from the wild spurts of lightning crackling between Ashleigh and various metallic conduits. Marthel had reached full on beast mode, flinging demonic fire at whoever stood in his path, trapping them with roots and reveling in their cries of anguish when their pleas for mercy had no effect.

It was the deranged look in his eyes that told Nadia she needed to go into damage control mode. She pushed her way through the fighting until she came face to face with Marthel and wrapped her strong arms around him, holding him in place. The fire began to fizzle, but his erratic heartbeat and quick, shallow breaths remained.

"Jace Marthel, I think you've done enough," she said softly in his ear.

Marthel closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his breathing had instead become deep and ragged. He was exhausted, completely beat, and collapsed against Nadia. They ducked down a side street and hurried away from the aftermath of his daring escape.

"Nadia, I think we'll need to move. I hear the area around Nivix is lovely and has far less crime."