#and just general mischief you miss out on with official translations

[alamari-chibi]

i think everyone who reads webnovels should read them in the cheapest and lowest quality way possible because nothing brings more joy than edited MTL that makes characters' names into shit like "iron flower" "standing tall" or "brick"

[doctorthreephds]

Synapses: Part 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 6.4k

TW: Death, sickness, blood, violence, typical Criminal Minds stuff, specifically from the episode “Amplification”

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Spencer as your relationship grows. But, the calm is just before the storm and your job puts you in more danger than you signed up for. 

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @green-intervention​ @eevee0722​

Spencer made it easy to fall in love. You had little knowledge of romantic relationships besides a couple of elementary and middle school “relationships” that were barely romantic, just a couple of kids attempting to find their way in the world. Your experience with relationships, in general, had been difficult. Your father was estranged growing up and your mother was loving but constantly busy with work and her duties as a diplomat. She made time for you, though, and in the end, you wish you had made more time for her. 

Death is a fickle thing, it is the only thing that makes life worth living, and yet even as a forensic scientist, you wanted to figure out how to evade it. When your mother died, your relationship with death was complicated because you felt cheated. That she deserved so many more years of life and that you should have done more to help. You know that in your heart, you feel a deep passion for Spencer, that you want to get to know him and to cherish him as he should be cherished, but death still loomed overhead and it terrified you. So you hold Spencer at an arm’s length. While he had no problem hugging you and holding your hand occasionally, you made sure he remains cordial and platonic with you. Such a task was difficult, though.

Your feet ache as you walk over to the elevator, sniffling in an attempt to calm your runny nose. Spring had officially set in and so had your allergies; it seemed as if all the pollen in the world was coming for your sinuses. Pulling out a tissue to blow your nose, you barely register Spencer standing next to you. 

“I’m going to see Ponyo in theaters tonight, it’s a limited run and they’re playing it in Japanese. You could come with me, I could even simultaneously translate it to you,” he states and you jump slightly in surprise, not having expected him to be there.

“Sounds like fun, but I desperately need Claritin and I wouldn’t want you to miss the screening,” your voice is nasal as you speak, the pressure in your head making it pound with every step you take once you exit the elevator.

“It’s no problem, we can both head home and I’ll just pick you up with my car,” he suggests, and you look over suspiciously.

“You hate driving.”

“But I’d drive for you,” you sigh as the two of you make it out of the building and start toward the metro. “I’d just really like to see it with you, I think you’d enjoy it.”

You huff as the breeze picks up slightly, hitting you with another face full of pollen. Looking over at Spencer, his eyes were bright and full of mischief. He holds onto the strap of his bag as the two of you walk down the stairs and you try your best to read his face. Only pure content and joy, oh how this man has ruined you.

“Fine. Only if you pay for dinner,” you mumble, blowing your nose into another tissue as the train approaches. 

“Of course, it’s my turn anyway,” he states, a satisfied look on his face. The two of you often paid for each other when it came to food, remaining constantly indebted to each other. But this way, you always knew he would come back. Because he owed you.

Getting home was a relief, it truly serves as a place to escape and decompress. After being stuffy all day and having to work through several reports as you reviewed the evidence and possible threats, it had truly been a test of your patience. After taking Claritin and changing into something a little more suited to the weather, Spencer arrives right on time. The rest of the night goes off with a hitch and more often than not do you find yourself looking over at Spencer as his eyes take in every single little detail of the movie. True to his word, the two of you order cheap nachos and pizza from the movie theater and munch on it during the movie. He speaks translations to you in a low whisper, adding intonation and inflection to distinguish between the characters. Spencer never ceases to amaze you and while you love Ponyo, there’s just something so alluring about watching Spencer talk about things that interest him. At the end of the movie, he continues to process and talk about every little detail left to his whim. 

“While Ponyo is essentially a movie about a child’s innocence and familial love, there is an underlying theme that comments on the pollution of our oceans, as seen in the character of Fujimoto who is afraid of humans and constantly criticizes them,” Spencer says as the two of you walk into the foyer. 

“The ramen looked amazing, though. It makes me hungry for some real food,” you state as the smell of popcorn makes you crave even more food.

“Food in film, specifically films directed by Hayao Miyazaki, are a tool to show togetherness and family as well as human nature. The details of the food tell their own story in many of the other movies. We’ll have to check them out if they even come to the theater,” he continues and you smile, shaking your head.

“Or we can just watch them at my apartment. I’ll buy the whole box set and we’ll just have a whole binge,” you tell him as the two of you make it out onto the street, walking back to his car.

“That’s also good too,” he says as you bark out a laugh. “It’s a date.”

While such trivial words shouldn’t insight fear inside of you, it doesn’t stop you from spending the rest of the night thinking about it after Spencer drops you back home. It remains in your mind the next day when you go to work and find your way to the BAU during lunch, only to find that they were called away on a case. So, the rest of the week is spent thinking about the words “it’s a date.” Obviously, he meant a physical date, like the one on a calendar. But what if he wasn’t? He hadn’t been over to your apartment before and you had never gone to his. It was like a platonic line the two of you hadn’t crossed so that your relationship would stay strictly on the down-low. What did it mean that he wanted to come over to your apartment, then? On a so-called “date?” There wasn’t even an actual day you planned to have your movie marathon on, so technically it couldn’t even be considered a date. Just a plan. 

That Friday, you were getting ready to go home and crash on the couch after ordering take out when Penelope texts you.

From Penelope (5:46 PM):

I’m gonna need some reinforcements up here, the team is just getting back.

To Penelope (5:46 PM):

Hard case?

From Penelope (5:47 PM):

Like you can’t even imagine.

Sighing, you get up out of your chair and head to the elevator, going a couple of floors up to the BAU. When you get out, Penelope stands there with a face of anticipation as she sees you walk out. 

“Oh good, they’re almost here. Spencer’s not doing too hot,” she says and you frown, turning to face the elevator.

As if they were summoned, the second elevator opens up to reveal the team in several different states of fatigue and disappointment. Spencer stands in the back, hunched over slightly as he frowns and follows the rest of them out once the doors are fully open. You smile at your dad and pat him on the shoulder as he leans down.

“The gelato place downtown is still open,” he whispers and kisses your cheek before walking into the offices. You walk in front of Spencer and gently bump into him to break him from his stupor. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask and look up at him, seeing the furrow in his brow and the dark circles under his eyes that look even darker. 

“Nothing, I have to work on my reports,” he mumbles and walks past into the offices.

“Why don’t we go get food and you can come back, just to help clear your mind,” you insist, following him as he collapses into his office chair, rubbing his temples to relieve a bit of the stress built up over the past couple days.

“I have too much to work on,” he brushes you off and turns to stare at all the papers stacked up on his desk.

“You can work on them this weekend,” you state and push the spinny chair so that he faces you. “I know something is wrong, we’ve known each other for several months and I can tell when something is bothering you. Now, I’m not going to ask, but I do know that you can complete reports faster than everyone here and that you can take them home. So, I declare today backwards day. Let’s go grab some ice cream.”

You smile your biggest smile in hopes of breaking him out of his spiral and the reference to Ponyo definitely helps. He smiles slightly, although it doesn’t reach his eyes, and shoves a couple of folders into his satchel before standing.

“Lead the way,” you smile at him and loop your arm around his in hopes of helping to keep him grounded. The two of you walk out of the BAU in silence, but you can feel a change in Spencer already. Hunting the worst types of people every single day as a job constantly gets to you, especially when it comes to this team who constantly look at the mind of unidentified subjects to catch them. With your father, he deals with it through good old compartmentalization and expensive alcohol. For Spencer, you would guess it’s not as easy. His mind was endlessly thinking and analyzing so any mistake made would be remembered and replayed. The best you can do is let him know that there’s a world around him other than everything going on in his head. 

After getting on the metro, you engage in simple conversation, telling him about what you’ve had the luxury of working on and the most recent book you had been reading: The Awakening by Kate Chopin. When you see the stop for downtown, you pull him off the train and begin to walk toward your favorite family-owned gelato establishment. 

“Where are we going?” he asks, looking around at the nightlife of D.C.

“It’s a surprise,” you wink and pull him toward a small shop full of freezers filled with gelato. His eyes light up at the sight of the gaudy decorations that are over the top depictions of Florence and Rome. 

“Gelato?”

“It’s backwards day!” you remark and order a medium stracciatella. 

“I’ll get a medium mint chip,” he asks and you reach out hand over your card before Spencer can get to the cashier. 

When the both of you have your gelato in hand, you both slowly meander down the street as you devour into your delicious treat.

“Did you know that the word stracciatella comes from the Italian word ‘stracciare’ and is also the name of the famed soup that is popular in the Lazio region of central Italy? The same technique is applied to the ice cream but instead of chocolate and ice cream, it’s broth and an egg-based mixture. It’s a western variation of the Chinese egg drop soup,” he gets out before spooning some of the gelato into his mouth. You can only smile at him as you admire how beautiful he looks in the dim lighting, rambling on and effectively getting him away from the horrors of the world, even if for a moment. He continues to talk about soup and how often eastern traditions are westernized and taken over, but all you can do is stare at him and think about how head over heels you are for him. 

Perhaps it is love. But your heart is stored in a box away from harm. Its defenses were weakening, though. Every word spoken by Spencer was like a small chisel working away at the precious marble box, artistic and masterful. You love him, yet in your mind, keeping it from him meant keeping him safe. Or, keeping yourself safe.

Quiet weeks are always appreciated at the FBI. Quiet weeks for you meant simple research and few reports, just enough to keep yourself busy. Quiet weeks for the BAU were just simple consultations and writing up all their fieldwork into manageable reports. But, before a tsunami, the ocean always rears its ugly face. 

You knew something was wrong when your director called you before dawn. A shrill noise jerked you from your sleep and you pull your phone to your ear even before checking the caller.

“Agent Montgomery,” you reply groggily, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you check your digital clock.

“There’s a suspected attack, we’re sending an agent to pick you up. The FBI is under strict media blackout rules so do not inform anyone,” Director Chase states. “There’s Cipro for you on arrival.”

Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of anthrax. You had just started college when the Amerithrax attacks happened, it had been one of the reasons you wanted to become a toxicologist. Never in your life did you ever expect to face an actual anthrax attack head-on. 

Getting ready is a blur, you pull on suitable clothes and meet the other agent when they arrive. During the drive, you are given a very quick debrief. Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms with black lesions and lung failure after they had all been at the same park after 2 p.m. The strain of anthrax used was weaponized and reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs, odorless and invisible. At the moment, there are eleven dead with the number quickly rising. All remaining patients were moved to a special wing in Walter Reed Hospital with Dr. Linda Kimura from the CDC and her team overseeing the treatment of all victims. You memorize this information and how you would apply your skills, finding any evidence and analyzing it. The thought of working with the BAU is both exciting and terrifying. Your father would be at risk, and so would Spencer. The only peace of mind is the fact that you would be working with them so any harm that comes to them would go through you first. 

Once at the Bureau, you swallow the Cipro dry and take the elevator up to the BAU where several military scientists have gathered and move around the busy offices. Your director approaches you as you enter and glance around at all the chaos.

“Dr. Kimura’s already in the conference room with Agent Jareau and Agent Hotchner. You’ll be accompanying them to any possible active sites to try and gather a sample as well as oversee the response,” he states and you nod, climbing up the stairs and trying not to throw up the pills you just swallowed. Seeing JJ and Hotch helps to ground you a little but your heart still beats quickly.

“Dr. Kimura, it’s nice to meet you,” you smile weakly and shake her hand.

“You too, I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances,” she replies and you nod, turning to look at the file full of evidence. It was unlike anything you had ever seen, less than twenty-four hours and already fourteen people were dead. 

The rest of the team shuffles in and you meet Spencer’s gaze, seeing the worry build up in his eyes like tiny storms. You were sure that your face shared the same fear. As they are debriefed, you find yourself looking through at the lesions and pictures shared, trying not to grimace at the sight. College had its fair share of gross photos, but those people were either dead or safe. Time was not your friend.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura and Dr. Montgomery to the hospital, interview the victims,” you tune in at your name and look up at Hotch as he delivers assignments. “There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something,” Dr. Kimura huffs out as she raises the tray for everyone to take.

“This is really happening?” Emily asks. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Can such a weapon be real?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch speaks the words as if they are a mantra as if the FBI knows everything. And while he’s right, the FBI does not know everything about this strain of anthrax. The unknown kills people, you just hope you can get to it before it kills more civilians. 

“Jin dan,” your father says. “May you live one hundred years.”

Your jaw clenches as you watch both your father and Spencer takes the pills. Your father is on the older side, you know that and he’s lived through a lot, but something like this would take him out in a matter of hours. And Spencer, he’s young and healthy, but this spore had killed fourteen people. What was another victim? 

As you follow Dr. Kimura and Spencer out of the conference room, your mind is full of statistics and chemical concoctions that could help you. It moves quickly and swiftly, distracting you from the escalation of the current situation.

“Why didn’t you take the Cipro?” Spencer asks as you stand in the office. 

“I took it when I arrived, I was here before you,” you respond monotonously, sighing as you turn and give him a reluctant smile. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. Never really been ‘in the field’ before.”

“You’ll be great,” he offers you a look of encouragement and squeezes your hand as you follow Dr. Kimura to the cars, waiting for Spencer as he grabs files from JJ. 

The car ride is spent talking about treatments and other specific details. You focus on trying to break down the creation of the spores as well as possible antidotes to combat it. Because there are no know samples just yet, you work through from the other angle. How does one weaponize a regular bacteria? Well, increasing its ability to quickly become activated and multiply would do the trick. To fight against it, our white blood cells would need to work just as quickly to get rid of the foreign bacteria that attacks our immune system, therefore an antidote would be able to target this bacteria and destroy it at the same rate. Just as a vaccine would. Arriving at the hospital is a bit jarring, you walk with Dr. Kimura and Spencer up to the wing where you break off and look at blood and toxin reports to fully understand what parts of the body are being attacks as well as what kind of chemicals makes up this specific toxin. 

“What’s causing her aphasia?” Spencer asks as they make their way back over to you. This piques your interest as you take notes on a separate piece of paper, jotting down everything you can think of to help understand.

“The poison is infecting the parietal lobe, impairing her speech. Some of the other patients displayed the same symptoms shortly before they died,” she states solemnly, and you sigh as you speak out.

“The only thing that can help them is if we find the antidote because unless we do a molecular analysis of the specific strain, we’re unable to understand how this works,” you grumble, the want to lash out angrily growing. “This can’t be his first attack, especially if he was a scientist. You run small trials before getting to human subjects.”

You continue to work with Spencer, sifting through ideas as Dr. Kimura makes calls and inquires about possible previous victims. It made sense in your little science brain, that one would not test on a bigger group before ensuring it was deadly with a smaller group--like vaccine or drug trials. As Dr. Kimura brings over a list of other patients, Spencer goes into another area to call the team as you cross-reference your notes with her. 

“So far, all we know is that this is anthrax. Do you think I can use blood and tissue samples in your lab for analysis? Maybe I can refine the strain and get an antidote or perhaps see how quickly it multiplies,” you ask and she nods.

“Of course,” she calls over another nurse and asks for blood and tissue samples from an already deceased victim and asks for it to be delivered to your lab.

As Spencer steps out of the closet, you look over at him and try to memorize every part of him. The revolver that sticks out of his hip, the badge, the long unruly hair, his violet shirt, just everything that makes him Spencer. Your heart was racing with nerves and all you wanted to do was take him out of harm’s way. 

“How are you feeling?” he inquires as you shake your head. 

“I feel useless. I’m no medical doctor nor am I any closer to finding the antidote,” you mumble and look up at the ceiling to try and stave off the tears. 

“You’re doing great. It’s a waiting game until we get more answers about the profile, you’re doing the best you can,” he reaches out and wraps an arm around you as you hug him, sighing as you deeply inhale his cologne. 

“Yet my best can’t stop all these people from dying,” you look over at the young girl that Spencer was talking to, watching as every breath in her lungs feels like the last. 

“You’re one person. And I know that when it gets down to it, you’ll be brilliant,” the two of you pull away slightly and you look up at him, your noses almost touching. You could kiss him right now if your lives weren’t being threatened, but the voice of Dr. Kimura breaks the two of you apart. 

“How’s she doing?” Spencer asks as the three of you walk over to the window, Dr. Kimura pulling up her charts.

“She’s a fighter. She’s held on this long because she’s young and strong. But she’s started to bleed into her lungs,” Dr. Kimura states and you stare through the glass, wanting to will this young girl to live. 

“One of four left,” you mumble and look over at Spencer. 

“We’re running into another problem. When next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about cause of death?” you look back through the glass as you ponder another unanswerable question. 

Once the samples are ready, you and Spencer go down to the hospital lab where you try to isolate the spore in each of the samples and look at them underneath the microscope as well as streak them on Petri dishes. Spencer helps with tools and supplies so you aren’t running around, but the most that the microscope tells you is that it is anthrax and the dishes won’t be ready for analysis any time soon because they need to incubate. Once done, you clean and sterilize everything before sitting down on one of the chairs and looking up at the fluorescent lights of the hospital.

“This is useless,” you mutter and shake your head.

“No, it’s not. They’re delivering the profile right now and then we’ll be able to find a suspect,” Spencer tells you as you look over at him, a small smile on your face. 

“Are you always this optimistic, Dr. Statistics?” you ask as he chuckles.

“No, because I’m usually running and forming statistics, but you distract me enough from the looming threat of death,” your eyes widen as he speaks as you let out a short laugh before his phone begins to ring. The conversation is short, but you gather that you finally have a suspect worthy of bringing in.

“That was Morgan, we’re going to a suspect’s house. His name is Dr. Lawrence Nichols and he tried to lobby for money to fund his anthrax preparedness plan but failed because it wasn’t feasible,” he says as the two of you grab your things and make your way down to the bottom floor, Derek meeting you as the three of you take off toward his house. He fills you in on Dr. Nichols’ past, his adamancy about wanting all families to have protection against anthrax as well as his inevitable job termination. Your hands shake with nerves as you think about having to be around people, specifically people that could potentially pose a threat to your life. This wasn’t what you did, nor was it who you were. You were far out of your comfort zone, but at least you could be helpful instead of sitting around in a lab. 

The three of you wait outside the small suburban house, waiting as the hazmat team goes through and ensures that there are no traces of anthrax that could threaten your life. 

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Derek states and you look over at the house, it was painted a robin blue. You would never suspect a serial killer to live in such a normal house. 

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Spencer suggests as the three of you head toward the garage and behind the house. 

You stayed quiet and observed from a scientific view, looking over at the rose bushes and reaching over to touch the delicate flower. Though even the most beautiful flowers have thorns and you wince as a sharp point pricks your finger. Following Spencer, you stick the finger in your mouth to get rid of the blood. 

As you maneuver around the many plants, Derek’s phone rings and he puts Penelope on speaker as Spencer listens in. You, on the other hand, continue to look around for any evidence pointing toward him being the suspect. Perhaps a lab of some sorts. As you enter the smaller building behind the house, you instantly see the makings of a lab with the fumes hood and the surplus of beakers and Petri dishes. Stepping into the lab, your heart jumps in your chest when you see a shattered test tube on the floor with white powder. 

Behind you, Spencer calls out your name and you rush over the door to close it, the chill of the air conditioning blasting behind you.

“Spencer, get back! Get back right now,” you fumble with the lock, shutting yourself into the lab with the vial. 

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” he asks and pushes against the door.

“No, please, Spencer. Get away from the door,” you beg, tears forming in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Open the door,” he persists as he stares at you through the glass. Was it enough? Was he infected? You couldn’t know for sure. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you mutter, a tear dripping down your cheek as you step back from the door. 

“Kid, what’s going on?” you hear Derek call out from behind Spencer as he backs up from the door.

“Call Hotch. Call an ambulance. Call everyone,” he tells Derek as the fear fills your veins. Your hands are so cold, why are they so cold? Spencer’s sweet voice isn’t enough to talk you down from the anxiety building up. This was the tsunami and you were caught in the tidal wave.

Spencer stands away from the door as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring silently out at him. Your phone rings as he calls you and you put it on speaker. 

“Tell me what’s going on, everyone’s on their way. You need to describe everything to me,” you can see Spencer’s mind going a million miles an hour and you could see the blame he put on himself. This wasn’t him, this was all you. At least you were right about anthrax getting through you before it did him.

“There’s a body here, I think it’s Nichols, and he’s dead. There’s also a tube that’s shattered. It’s full of white powder, I’m pretty sure it’s anthrax--Spencer,” you pause, staring straight at him. “I don’t want to die, please I’m so scared.”

You hear all the sirens as they approach and you shake your head, more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Sh, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” he says and you can see that all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you. “This is where you can help, remember? It’s your turn to be the hero.”

You look up to him, the tears blurring his figure as you wipe them from your cheeks, nodding. 

“You’re right,” you mumble and take a deep breath before beginning to go through the lab. “You’re right.”

First, the body. 

Reaching down, you feel the skin of Dr. Nichols and see the blue-ish tint to his skin as well as the way his blood has pooled. He appears to be dead at least for a day or two, Livor mortis has already set in.

“Spence, he’s been dead for maybe one to two days. Blunt force trauma to his head,” you say just as Hotch and another man join Spencer and Derek. 

“Doctor, we need to get you to the hospital,” Hotch speaks and you shake your head.

“No, I can help. I’m the only one who can work the case here. I’m already exposed, there’s nothing they can do but give me morphine. I can do this,” you state and turn to the lab, looking around for any important information.

“Just get out of there, you need to go to the hospital,” Spencer insists as you continue to search his desk.

“She’s already infected. Now if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure,” the general says and you grab the papers off his desk, reading through his notes. 

“If I’m in here, I can find the cure, or I can make it. If I figure out how he made this strain then I can make the antidote with his notes,” you reply, hearing Spencer sigh with exasperation. “I can also try to see who killed Dr. Nichols, the answer is in here somewhere.”

“Say something to her, order her. She can’t stay in there,” Spencer’s voice cracks and you shake your head, now was not the time to get distracted.

“She’s right, her best chance is to be inside,” Hotch replies and you set your phone down as you read through his writing. “We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, I’m already infected,” you mumble and break apart all his lab reports. 

“Your dad is going to kill me,” Hotch tells you and you sigh, shaking your head. 

“He does his job, I do mine.”

Your mind reels at the information, but you force yourself to focus and read through the reports and how Dr. Nichols managed to make such a potent spore. In your mind, your best bet is a combination antibiotic and antibody treatment to combat the toxins and ensure that any remaining bacteria is killed off.

“I think there was a struggle, there’s glass spread out and clutter all over,” you tell them, looking around and finding another desk in the corner. “There’s also another desk in the corner that’s smaller and organized. It appears there are two sets of handwriting as well as instructions on how to sterilize and transfer spores.”

“Nichols would know all that,” the general states. 

“He has a partner, maybe even a protege,” Spencer suggests as Hotch and the general run off to go follow that lead. Your phone begins to vibrate and you see that your father is calling you. Picking up, you put the phone to your ear.

“Papa, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, feeling the tears well up once more. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sh, piccolo. This is not your fault. How are you doing?” he asks and you inhale deeply, beginning to feel sharp pains in your chest. 

“I’m fine. I’m working,” you let out a sad laugh and shake your head. “I’m scared.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he tells you and he says it with such conviction that you almost believe him.

“If I’m not--”

“Don’t talk like that,” he cuts you off and you shake your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“If I’m not okay, I just want to tell you that you were the best dad in the whole world and that I love you so much. I’ll tell mom ‘hi’ for you,” you hold in a sob as he begins to protest. “I love you.”

You hang up the phone and sob into your hand, breathing in as deeply as possible to try and stay afloat. Quickly, you call up Penelope as something crosses your mind.

“Hey, you,” Penelope mumbles solemnly.

“No funny quip?” you bite your lip nervously as she sighs.

“I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are,” she says.

“Hey, Penny. Do you think you can record something for me?” you ask, glancing out the window to where Spencer is staring in.

“Anything,” you hear her type. “Alright, you’re good.”

“Hey, Spence,” you bite back another sob as it shakes through your chest. “This isn’t how I intended for you to hear this, but here it goes. I love you. So much. And I’m such a coward for not saying it to your face, but, if I’m gone then I want you to know that your brain and your smarts are so incredible, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love you so much.”

A woman in an orange suit steps into the room and you quickly hang up your phone, smiling at Dr. Kimura.

“Dr. Montgomery,” she says as does her best to walk in the suit.

“You look nice,” you say and let out a shaky laugh. “How is everyone else doing?”

“Let’s worry about you,” she states and you nod as Spencer calls you back. You answer and put him on speaker. 

“Hey, it’s me and Garcia,” he tells you as a tickle in your throat bubbles up and makes you cough. “I think the cure is in there somewhere. Dr. Nichols was a former military scientist so he’s secretive and paranoid. Prentiss and Rossi don’t think the partner was a coworker.”

“Can you look for the cure while I help them?” you ask Dr. Kimura and she nods as you look around the room. “I’ve been through everything, Spence.”

“I know you’re not thinking straight,” his voice cracks. “But, we need you.”

 You clear your throat and nod.

“You’re right,” you rush over to his desk and look through his items. “There’s a picture of him teaching and a syllabus.” 

You think back to the instructions and think for a moment.

“Hold on,” you run over to the other desk and look at the content. “It’s a student, it has to be if he went through the trouble of writing lab procedures.”

Picking up the thick stack of paper, you instantly recognize it as some sort of thesis. Years of curating your own, you would never forget it. 

“A thesis, his partner was a doctoral student,” sweat drips down your hairline as you sift through the papers.

“He wouldn’t have let just anyone in there so perhaps he opened his lab to a student,” Spencer formulates as you read through the paper. “Check the sciences.”

“Uh, cross-checking with names of former employees or customers with grievances at the bookstore.” Penelope types away at her keyboard as you read through the paper, it mentions things like preparedness and less about the spores itself as well as scientific findings. “Nothing, my doves.”

“This doesn’t sound like a science student, this is all about city preparedness, and response,” you cough and try not to stress about the taste of blood in your mouth. 

“Check the social studies,” Spencer states. “Public policy, urban planning.”

“Hot to trot. There’s a Chad Brown, School of Public Policy at U. of M. matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front. I’ll tell Hotch,” Penelope hangs up as you stifle another cough, the pain in your chest worsening.

“You did it, now get out of there,” Spencer says and you turn to Dr. Kimura as you let out another cough. Blood splatters on your hand and you wipe it on your pants.

“You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn’t suspect. What about Nichols’ inhaler?” she walks up with the inhaler as you put Spencer on speaker. 

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you out here,” he says and you hang up as the two of you walk out of the lab and into the tent where people are ready to spray you down. You let the tears flow freely now that you’re out and the water rolls over you in an attempt to get rid of all the powder that might have stuck. Spencer is outside the tent speaking to Hotch and your father as you get naked and hosed down. Once they’re finished, you’re toweled down and put into a gown as you get on the gurney and are wheeled off to the ambulance. 

“Hey, you,” you mutter weakly to Spencer as he walks alongside you. Another cough bursts out of your chest.

“I’m seeing you off to the hospital, the team doesn’t need me,” he states and you nod, taking his hand as they get you into the ambulance. There is a sharp pain in your lungs every time that you move and you cough up blood more and more. The lights in the ambulance are too bright and you feel so hot as Dr. Kimura places her stethoscope on your chest.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Montgomery?” she asks as you fail to hold back another cough.

“I’m obey,” your eyes widen as the words in your head fail to come out of your mouth. “Obey. I fleel fin.”

Your eyes water as you look over at her and then at Spencer who watches you in terror. 

“Okay, that’s okay,” she mutters to you before calling out to the driver. “Driver, faster.”

The sound of your heart beating echoes in your head is nausea and dizziness loom over you, making you close your eyes. All the sounds, including Spencer who seems to be calling out to you, dissipate as you drift off into the darkness. At least he would know. 

[thehuntersmoondiscord]

A trope is a trope is a trope.

And that’s why we all love them! Every single writer’s interpretation is slightly different even based off the same exact trope and we want to celebrate that. This event is themed around the tropes we all know and love, whether that be OMG they were roommates! Or there was only one bed or something as tried and true as College AU and Coffee Shop AU. The possibilities are endless and the tropes are your oysters.

An event hosted on the Hunter's Moon Discord Server

The official collection can be found HERE

My Heart Burns by @miss-shiva-adler

Luke/Valentine | Explicit | Tumblr Post Summary: Some people celebrated the day they were turned, owned the day where their lives were turned up side down. He didn’t. He never would. Tags:  Emotional manipulation, extremism, cheating, jealousy, parabatai feels, mutated parabatai bond, Eros AU, drunk confessions, in vino veritas, Drunk sex, Dark fic, sex magic, come swallowing, Unrequited feelings, Angst, dubcon, anti-family, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, blow jobs, oral sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub undertones, Domination & Submission, mention of blood

Next Stop: Love by @christophers-lightwood

Simon/Jace | General | Tumblr Post Summary: Jace is late for work, and meets a cute guy on the subway. Turns out, subways are magical places for music, lip syncing, and romance. Tags: Subways, Subway AU, There's so many caller tunes, Yes I like cheesy songs, Listen I'm the kind of person to mouths along the lyrics, And so does Simon and you can't convince me otherwise, Jace is in love, Alec is a good brother, Jimon are cheesy af, Idiots in Love, Shadowhunters Bingo, Free Square

Drowning by @jesseywoodhunter 

Magnus/Alec | Teen Summary: Alec has been keeping a secret from his family, from himself even. He's sick, disgusting. An embarrassment to the family. He's supposed to be the perfect big brother, a role model. A pillar of strength. One day, Alec makes a choice. The repercussions are set to change his life forever. One moment you're downing, the next, you're learning to swim. Tags: Hurt Alec Lightwood, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst, Supportive Magnus Bane, Mental Health Issues, Rescue

Amor primo conspectu by @sivan325

Magnus/Alec | Explicit | Tumblr Post Summary:  Translation from Latin – Love at first sight Omegas are meant to be thrown into the thick of battle to defend Alphas, but when the battle is over, they are treated like cast offs. Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega, Alternative Universe, Soulmate, Wingsfic, Love at First Sight, discrimination against omegas, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Omega Alec Lightwood, Alpha Magnus Bane, MPREG, Self-Sacrificing Alec Lightwood, Time Skips, Violence, Sharing Body Heat, Hurt/Comfort, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting

Disce ut semper victurus, vive ut cras moriturus by @sivan325

Magnus/Alec | Teen | Tumblr Post Summary: Translation from Latin – Learn as if always going to live; live as if tomorrow going to die. This was supposed to be a happy day of union for Alec and Magnus, instead they are apart, Alec is missing and there’s a serial killer on the loose. Tags: Human AU, Cop!Alec, Coroner!Magnus, undercover missions, break up, angst, serial killers, fear, doubt, Ambiguous/Open Ending, swear word for Camille, Team as Family, Blue-eyed Alec Lightwood

Hidden Desires by @sivan325

Magnus/Alec | Teen | Tumblr Post Summary: Alec is just watching what he cannot have, but he didn’t know that he is also being watched. Tags: Mermen AU, Merman Alec Lightwood, Warlock Magnus Bane, Fluff

The Place in Between by @polarnacht1

Alec/Jace | Teen Summary:  "Whenever Alec had thought about dying, he had thought it would be painful. He had thought that maybe he would die in a battle, slit open by a blade or by the claws of a demon, fighting alongside Jace against the evil. Frankly, he had always thought that there would be something heroic about the way he died. He had never thought he would die in his sleep, never really considered that one day he just would close his eyes, fall asleep to never wake up again. Yet, here he was."  A story about death and life, love and letting go. Tags: Afterlife,  Alec Lightwood-centric,  Protecitve Alex Lightwood, Parabatai,  Parabatai feels,  Love,  Hurt/Comfort,  Grief/Mourning,  Coping,  Cancer, Moving on

Not the Way I Dreamt of by @sivan325

Magnus/Alec | Explicit | Tumblr Post Summary:  That is not the way Alec dreamt his first time would be. Tags:  Alternative Universe, Fuck or Die, dubcon, Evil Seelie Queen, Post-Episode: s02e10 By The Light Of Dawn, Time Skips, Humiliation, Virgin Alec Lightwood, First Time, Protective Magnus Bane, Magic

Don't flirt with me (I'm working, dammit) by @thelightofthebane

Magnus/Alec & Jace/Simon | Explicit | Tumblr Post Summary:  Alec and Magnus take a moment to just breathe. Magnus is above him, straddling his waist, and that… shouldn’t be bothering him that much. Well, could someone blame him? His chaotic job and his even more chaotic ass don’t exactly help him to go on dates, and now the most beautiful man he has ever seen in his entire life is sitting on his crotch.  -- Alec goes undercover into a maximum security prison to get information about a serial killer. It doesn't help that one of his inmates, a mob boss, keeps distracting him. Tags:  Alternate Universe - Prison, Mention of crimes, nothing graphic, Undercover Missions, FBI agent!Alec, Inmates, Even Simon was arrested, How to catch a serial killer, Having Magnus as a partner is not helpful at all, All the flirt, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Major Character Injury, Light Angst, Gratuitous Blowjob, thirsty boys, Happy Ending, Trope Celebration Event, Gay Disaster Alec Lightwood, Flirty little shit Magnus Bane

A Kickstart To the Morning by @phoenixStar73

Magnus/Alec | General Summary: Barista Alec Lightwood hates waking up so early for work. But hates it a bit less this particular morning when a certain someone just happens to walk in... Tags:  Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Fluff, Mundane Alec Lightwood, Mundane Magnus Bane, Flirting, Fluff, College Student Alec Lightwood, Barista Alec Lightwood

From the ashes of shattered dreams by @brightasstars

Magnus/Alec | Explicit Summary:  “Yes, Magnus. I do. Whatever it takes, whatever you need.” Magnus’ golden eyes blazed in the dark, then he chuckled softly. “Angsty proposal, isn’t it?” Alec giggled. “It’s a proposal, anyway. It implies forever.” “If there ever will be a chance, I will make you the proper one,” Magnus added. Tags:  Shapeshifting; Alternate Universe; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Angst and Hurt/Comfort; Rebirth

This Body of Mine by @tobythewise

Magnus/Alec | Explicit Summary: When Alec and Magnus get body swapped, Magnus suggests a fun way to pass the time. What starts as an admittedly weird exploration of each other’s bodies quickly turns heated. In the end, Alec realizes that though his body wasn’t what he wanted when he was born, this same body has slowly become HIS, and that makes it perfect. Tags: Bodyswap, Omegaverse, Trans Alpha Alec, Alpha Magnus, PWP, Mentions of past dysphoria, Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut

Art by @foxymoley​ 

Maia and Clary Witch AU

Pony Up Alexander! by @dmcanonymous

Magnus/Alec | Teen | Tumblr Post Summary:  Mix Jace being an idiot, Alec saving him again, and some magic mischief and poor Alec is all hooves. Hopefully Magnus can jump to the occasion to help out his boyfriend. Tags:  Centaur!Alec, trope transformation, Centaurification, centuar!Magnus, Magnus stop horsing around, why the long face Alexander?

travel the universes with me (let's find out we're meant to be) by @jimonsprettyface

Jace/Simon | Explicit  Summary: When Jace and Simon touch a mirror that Magnus Bane instructed them not to, they're yanked from their world and scattered through many others. Along the way, they find familiar faces, different times, and new feelings. The journey to get home is unknown, and they're not even sure they will, but what they learn along the way threatens to change them forever. Tags: Canon, But also AU, Multiple AU’s, Traveling through different universes, This World Inverted, Genderswap, Arranged Marriage, Huddling for Warmth, Canon Setting, Porn with(out?) Plot, Pining, Tropes, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Fluff, Slight Angst 

[mandowords]

Am I just missing the post, or do you just translate general words into this other language, without any other creation of grammar or sub specific words, if so, nouns and such are great but will you ever set about actually making this speakable?

This isn’t my language, it’s a language used in Star Wars by the Mandalorian people. It is a speakable language on it’s own, it’s just a bit simplistic. The words I post daily are from the official mando’a dictionary, and I make words (sometimes with the help of my discord) for specific things when people ask. I do this by fusing canon mando’a words together to describe the thing someone has asked about while following the mando’a grammar rules. I sometimes dissect canon words to figure out their roots.

Here’s an example:Hod’ikaHod comes from the name for the Mandalorian trickster god, Hod Ha’ran.‘Ika is a suffix used for nicknames (mostly children), like adding “little” at the beginning of someone’s name.So this word would be little mischief, which is what I call my dog when he’s being a bit of a terror while playing,

That word isn’t in the official disctionary but it still follows the language rules and uses other words to make a new one.

[magicianparrish]

You’re Welcome

  I will admit, I had a clear vision of what I wanted to happen, but then that got lost in translation from my brain to my fingers and computer screen. I mean, it’s the same general idea just a different approach. This also helped me get out of a big writing slump, and will probably hold me off for a while. Anyway, the first part of the fic may or may not be based off my daily morning struggle (hungover or not). And I placed some tv references in there...subtle but there. Anyway, so have some Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper and Leo with some of Percy’s little sister (who is not officially named as of yet), and some Sally and Paul because I love them all. 

Percy let out a groan when he felt the sunlight hit him in the face through the blinds on his window. His bed just so happened to be strategically placed so the sunlight decided to greet him in a blinding glare every morning at the crack of dawn, even when he really, really didn’t need to be up that early, ever.

It just so happened that the garbage men come up his block at around the same time in the morning. The truck’s loud BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, coming from reversing towards the dumpster echoing up to his window and into his room shaking the foundations of the building so much sometimes Percy thinks there will be an earthquake.

Really, Percy could kill someone some days. He’s woken up in a sleepy daze many times to scream “Fuck you!” in a groggy voice before slamming his head back down on the pillow and trying to ignore the inconveniences of living in Manhattan and trying to actually sleep for once. It is a struggle.

Percy heaved his body to turn around and not face the sun, wanting to get just a few more minutes of shut-eye. Half his face was smushed into his pillow, and he could feel his nose twisting in a way that could be described as mildly uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care enough to do anything about it.

When he did finally wake up, he lifted his head a little off the pillow, letting out a large yawn and realizing he had some serious dry mouth and his head had the familiar pulsing that only came with having a hangover. He let out another groan and some cursing to Leo and Piper and Jason for taking him and Annabeth out on the town last night. He let his head slam back into his pillow, full face smothered and muffled a mixture of a scream and groan. He could feel the wet patches where he had drooled in his sleep, which didn’t make him feel any better. He just wanted to lay there forever and never have to worry about anything ever again. And for a few more minutes, that’s exactly what he did.

“I hate them,” he muttered to himself before lifting himself onto his elbows.

He blinked slowly, the crust of sleep still covering his eyes as he rubbed them out. The sunlight was still coming in, but it wasn’t nearly as intense as sunrise always seemed to be. He had no idea what time it was.

He swung his legs off the bed, letting his bare feet touch the wood floors sending a little jolt from the coldness. He hunched over and rubbed his palms across his face and then through his hair which was sticking up everywhere from serious bedhead and the fact he needed to shower. He would do that after he got something to eat, he was starving.

Percy stood up stretching his arms high over his head, feeling the pull of the muscles on his lower back and biceps and triceps. Then he let his arms hang limply at his sides for a few minutes as he cracked his neck and back. It felt really good to do that and shake the sleep and stiffness out. He let out a deep breath and opened the door.

Percy was thankful that the lights were off. Since it was daytime, there was no use for wasting unnecessary electricity that would make the bill higher at the end of the month. Percy didn’t even live in his parent’s apartment anymore, but he was staying the night and babysitting his younger sister Moira for the day.

As soon as he took a few steps, a wave of nausea hit him. Percy stumbled and leaned against the wall, hanging his head down low and trying to get a grip and not vomiting bile all over the hallway floor.

“Shit,” he whispered, “I am never drinking again.”

After taking a few deep breaths calming himself down, he slowly took some tentative steps towards the kitchen this time around. When he rounded the corner he saw that his mother was already cooking up breakfast for everyone, which meant that it couldn’t have possibly been too late in the morning or afternoon. He still had no idea what time it was.

He could hear the sizzling of bacon being fried on the stove, and the humming of the microwave as something else was being cooked in there. And at the kitchen table, sat Annabeth, Leo, Piper, and Jason. They all looked the same as he did: exhausted, nauseated, and very much hungover. It made him feel marginally better knowing he wasn’t the only one suffering.

He walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and slumped in it. He rested his elbow on the tabletop with his head in his palm. In the center, there was already a pitcher of ice water and bottles of Gatorade. Annabeth was bent over and resting her entire head on the tabletop, her blonde hair in a very messy bun with chunks of it falling out from the elastic. Jason appeared to be handling the hangover the best out of all of them, but he looked very zoned out going in and out of consciousness. Piper and Leo had pairs of sunglasses over their faces and were in matching zebra print Snuggies sipping light blue Gatorade from two straws from the same bottle.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Piper said with a smirk on her face.

Percy opened his eyes and glared at her. This just made Piper bark out a laugh before taking her phone out and snapping a photo. Percy was too tired to give a crap at this point.

“I am never going out with you three ever again. You just drag me into situations that I horribly regret the next morning.”

Annabeth lifted her head up, her eyes were squinted and puffy but glared at the trio of younger demigods in front of them.

“I agree. I hate you, Leo for making me take Fireball shots with you. If I ever so much smell it again, I think I’ll vomit on the spot. You ruined cinnamon for me. Thanks a lot,” she croaked out.

Leo made an exaggerated slurping sound from his straw and then an exaggerated ahh when he finished. His sunglasses, which looked liked they belonged to a New York socialite slid down his nose as he looked at Annabeth. Then his lifted his palm and allowed a ball of fire to appear.

“Not everyone is made of hot stuff I’m afraid. Not my fault you aren’t,” he retorted.

“Oh fuck off. You’re supposed to repair things not cause the problems,” Annabeth snapped.

Jason seemed to come out of his own mind and smirked at Leo, who seemed just a little bit offended. He huffed, pushed the sunglasses back onto his nose and leaned back in his chair taking another sip of the Gatorade.

“Hey kids, mind not cursing and showing off powers in the house? We got some real kids in the other room, and I don’t want a situation to explain today,” Sally suggested kindly turning her attention to the young adults in the room.

“Sorry mom,” Percy apologized.

A chorus of “Sorry Sally”’s emerged after.

From behind Percy's head, the soft patter of footsteps and a hand landed on Percy’s shoulder. The touch was gentle, he still didn’t like being startled after everything. He looked up to see his step-father Paul’s face. His brown eyes were filled with mirth and just a tad of mischief.

“Hey everyone, since I know you all seemed to have had a rough night, I’ve done a kindness and bought everyone burgers and fries from Five Guys.”

With that, he dropped a bag filled with the grease filled stuff. Percy gagged at the smell and sight of it, and he saw his friends had similar reactions to seeing it. He heard Paul let out a hearty laugh, and then his mother joined in. Percy felt betrayed for a moment. He looked up at his parents.

“Traitors,” he groaned.

That only brought another round of laughter from his parents. Paul then went and picked up the bag putting it on the counter.

“You’re welcome. And you’ll thank me for this later. I was young once too, and I know a thing or two...or a lot about hangovers.”

A few minutes later, Sally wiped her hands on a dish towel. She and Paul set the table with plates and food. It was mouth-watering to look at. Sally walked over to where the living room was.

“Moira and friends, breakfast is ready!” she announced.

The pounding of little feet could be heard from the room as they made their way into the crowded kitchen. Everyone scooted their seats over to make room for the three seven-year-old girls who were joining them.

They were still in their pajamas. Moira’s brown hair was plaited into to two french braids, and she was in her Disney princess pajama set. Her light brown eyes were wide with all the food in front of her, and she looked ready to devour it. She turned her head and gave a big smile, filled with missing teeth.

“Mom, why does Percy and Annabeth and Piper and Leo and Jason look so tired?” Moira asked innocently.

His mother looked a little smug at the question, and a flush of red appeared on Annabeth’s cheeks from embarrassment. Percy felt his face heat up too. His mother sat down in a chair and looked at her daughter.

“Your brother and his friends had a little too much fun last night,” she gave a vague explanation without having to explain that they had all gotten very drunk.

“Is that why they were laughing and talking so loud last night?”

“Yes, sweet pea. No more questions, it’s time to eat,” Paul interrupted saving them. Percy sent a grateful look across the table.

He noticed Moira’s friends giggling between themselves at the interaction. All of his younger sister’s friends loved him. Everyone started to grab and pass plates of food across the table. His mother helped Moira with hers because she tended to be messy with just about everything. Percy stacked up his plate with pancakes, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs and black pudding which made his stomach growl. He was slowly but surely recovering from his hangover, and now he was starving. Any food looked good enough to devour.

“Annabeth, pass the butter please,” he asked.

His wife reached over Jason and then passed it to him across the table. It was already melting from being out for a few minutes. He then started to cut and shove pancakes and eggs into his mouth savoring the flavor.

Moira was just hacking away with her knife and fork shoving unequal cuts of pancake that seemed to be too big for her mouth. She had chipmunk cheeks from all the food in her mouth. The conversation was lively between the younger girls, and slowly his friends were integrating into as well.  

The apartment was filled with noise and life. Percy enjoyed the little things now, and he was happy to see that everyone was happy. He was married to the love of his life, he had friends and family who were safe, and it was what he dreamed he could have when he was younger. All the quests were a thing of the past. He still had the occasional monster attack, but it wasn’t anything he needed to worry about. He had a little sister who he loved, and who loved him back. His mother had come so far, and he was glad that he could be there with her every step of the way.

“Oh! It’s my favorite song!” Moira exclaimed spitting food out of her mouth.

His mother gave a chastising look, which Moira smiled bashfully at before turning her attention to the song playing on the television in the living room. Percy leaned in to listen and heard they were watching Moana.

She then started to sing along with Maui, and her friends joined in. Percy was humming it under his breath and eating at the same time. When the song was over Moira went back to eating.

“Lucy, Amy, did you know my brother is just like Maui?” Moira said to her two friends.

“Really, how?” Amy, the little redhead, who looked like a mini-me of Rachel asked.

“He’s a demigod! And he’s done so many things like Maui has!”

Percy had just put a piece of bacon in his mouth and he choked on it in shock. He saw Annabeth do the same with the Gatorade in her mouth. Piper, Leo, and Jason’s eyes widened and Leo’s jaw dropped in shock.

“Moira,” Percy whispered trying to stop her.

“He can control the water of all kinds! He does tricks for me all the time with it. It’s so cool,” she bragged.

Percy dragged Moira’s chair closer to him and put a hand on her head. She looked up with her brown eyes narrowed. Even so little she knew condescension gestures. He hoped he gave her a look that said shut it.

“Moira you are a crazy rascal, just because I’m good with water doesn’t mean I’m a real demigod. I only like to pretend that I’m one sometimes,” he deflected.

A little smirk formed on her face and she turned towards her friends. She seemed to have gotten the mistake she made, and he would punish her by splashing water on her and tickling her later for it. Her friends started to laugh like she made the greatest joke. Slowly, everyone else joined in the laughter to break the tension.

“You just love causing trouble, don’t you? You better not tonight,” Annabeth said with mock sternness.

“I am the perfect disciple of discipline, Annabeth.”

Percy turned to her with an impressed look. He knew then that she had been hanging out with Annabeth way too much. And she was definitely his mother’s daughter.

“And since I am just like Maui, you’re all welcome,” he said with a wink to his sister.

“For what?” Moira questioned an eyebrow arched on her face.

Percy shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of water which felt nice going down his throat.

“For everything,” he teased, “and you started this.”