hadesrebelofadaughter

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

‼️Noodle’s emergency commissions‼️

I am a trans disabled man who is struggling through the colder months, I need help saving money for coal, wood, fire-lighters, food, medication, fuel and travel costs, and more!

I am opening these commissions indefinitely, but if you want something more I have other options we can discuss as I need this out as soon as possible.

Please even if you cannot purchase a commission, please reblog this and help me out during this time!!!

I am open to practically everything including but not limited to: Furries, Mecha, Demons, Monsters, Complex characters, eldritch, fandom, OC’s DND characters, based on real life, pets, as well as topics like hard gore, pastel gore, horror, creepy, realistic horror and so on.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

( Discord be living up to its name at the moment )

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

(AKLSFGKHJFGKDFGKL EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE i still love this so much AHHHH thank you <3 )

WIP sketch for @hadesrebelofadaughter because why not? Need to mess around with it more but for now hope you enjoy <33

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

                                    moodboard meme

send me one of the following symbols and i’ll make a moodboard for my character.

✿ for a general moodboard about my muse

💛 for a moodboard about our muses’ relationship

❤  for a moodboard about a romantic relationship of my muse 

���� for a moodboard about another significant relationship in my muse’s life

💕  for a moodboard on my muse’s view on romantic and/or sexual relationships 

👗 for a moodboard about my muse’s fashion style

👶 for a moodboard about my muse’s childhood

🏠  for a moodboard about my muse’s home aesthetics

🍕 for a moodboard about my muse’s favorite foods

👮 for a moodboard about my muse’s occupation

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Jess laughed hard and loud at the mental image his words caused to appear

"Oh gods" She said giggling, giving him a smile at the soft forehead kiss "Are you quite sure it will be funny and not concerning to them my love?"

Are you and that Chinese dude still a thing?

@dontunderestimatemypoison

Jess's eyes flashed before she levelled a dark look at the anon, arms crossing over her chest.

"Yes we fucking are, not that it's any of your fucking business gray face" She snapped, unreasonably protective at such an innocent question but what could she say? F.A.N.G was her fiancé. Kinda came with the territory. "That all?"

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Jess laughed softly to herself, seeing the eagerness of her friend before simply offering the invite over. An amused smile set firmly upon her lips.

"I am glad you are pleased with your very important formal invite my friend" She teased, eyes shining with mischief before said eyes narrowed in suspicion at the sly smile "I see. I have personally no protests to you and my step-ma writing, I am sure the two of you will get along wonderfully which is very much not at all concerning to me one bit."

As for the clothing question. . .

Jess stood up, putting her knife onto her bedside table before wandering over to her closet. Pulling out a simple black long-sleeved dress before holding it up for her fae friend to inspect

"Does it pass?"

Family Dinner

@hadesrebelofadaughter

Crystallin had intended to drop off Jess's mail and continue doing her own thing for the afternoon. However, there was a very fancy letter that Crystallin had a good hunch on who the sender might be.

Jess had been talking about an upcoming dinner and had been kind enough to invite her, but Crystallin had insisted on getting proper permission. After all, she didn't want something going wrong trying to visit the underworld when she wasn't dead.

With the letter carefully set on Jess's dresser where she could easily see it, Crystallin had opted to lounge on the girl's bunk with a magazine to pass the time. Eventually Jess would return to her cabin for something.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

i'm begging mutuals on roleplay blogs to start interacting. most people for what i have seen, are super comfortable with memes being the first shape of interaction, and the odd starter call too. like them, send various memes to get options.

this goes to single blogs but also multimuse blogs. i promise you, as someone with a lot of multimuse blogs, sometimes just giving a few names is enough for people to try on those muses.

interact with your mutuals. like their post, make jokes on their ooc post if that's how you feel more comfortable, share a pic or two, maybe discord. but for the gods sake, send memes, like starter calls, specially when it's encouraged.

i promise you people won't reject you.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

One of my favourite bits of linguistic trivia is that in Ancient Greek, the word ἰχώρ (cognate to the modern English "ichor") is attested in extant literature to mean both "the bodily fluid which gods possess instead of blood", and also "gravy", which implies several things about Ancient Greek culinary culture's attitude toward gravy.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

► reblog to let your mutuals know that... YOUR RP BLOG IS NOT TIME-SENSITIVE!

...That there is NO time limit or expiration date on asks, memes or threads.

...That your partners NEVER need to feel they have to apologise for not responding to a thread or ask yet.

...That you welcome replies to "OLD" threads and memes, even if they've been sitting quietly untouched for weeks or months.

...That there is NEVER any pressure or obligation for your partners to reply until they feel the drive and enthusiasm to do so.

...That YOU will happily respond to things at YOUR OWN leisure, and you would like your partners to feel comfortable doing the same.

Not everybody enjoys running their blog this way and that's a-okay. But removing the idea that RP interactions are something that can "expire" or that the asks in your inbox have an unspoken "due-date", takes the pressure off of both your partners and yourself and can help bust feelings of stress/anxiety from the hobby. Reblog to let your partners know that you're just jazzed to receive new writing from them, whenever it comes.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

(The universe made a choice for me apparently.

I can't actually get back onto that blog anymore, I don't have access to the email I used to update the password even though the password is correct. I just hadn't been back there since that last privacy leak we had years ago.

So I made a lil side blog for her instead, reblogging some stuff from her old main was a bit of a sad journey.

I am still trying to figure her out again, it's been years and she also went through a massive change where she became a lot more reserved and shy so yeah.

If anyone wants to throw one of their nerds at her please feel free?

She's one of the few muses I have that won't bite and that's a promise)

OOC

(I kinda miss role-playing as another OC of mine on tumblr, she was a born angel {Something someone sent me hate anons over years ago}, very empathetic to the point where she could feel and sort of manipulate emotions as her power. She had an older sister that turned into a bit of a tormentor character. She was a bartender and I kinda wish I could bring her back

But I honestly don't know if I ever could log onto her blog again.

Unfortunately, she became very linked with another character whose mun I no longer talk to and have in fact blocked on this blog and my other rp blog for Variel.

Her tumblr has a lot of memories for me and I truly have no idea if I could ever face all of that again.

Which sucks cuz I have such a strong pull to want to throw her back into the ring so to speak.

Wanted to kinda just vent a bit I think, it always sucks having somewhere you've been few years end up being somewhere you feel as though you can never go back to due to other people)

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Any tension remaining in her body simply vanished, feeling safe in his arms, a few soft giggles escaped at the kisses. She tilted her head to look up, eyes soft and full of love for him.

"That brings me a lot of joy to hear." She admitted before smiling "Damn straight it is, I'm glad we ended up here. Especially after how poorly that first meeting went"

Are you and that Chinese dude still a thing?

@dontunderestimatemypoison

Jess's eyes flashed before she levelled a dark look at the anon, arms crossing over her chest.

"Yes we fucking are, not that it's any of your fucking business gray face" She snapped, unreasonably protective at such an innocent question but what could she say? F.A.N.G was her fiancé. Kinda came with the territory. "That all?"

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

OOC

(I kinda miss role-playing as another OC of mine on tumblr, she was a born angel {Something someone sent me hate anons over years ago}, very empathetic to the point where she could feel and sort of manipulate emotions as her power. She had an older sister that turned into a bit of a tormentor character. She was a bartender and I kinda wish I could bring her back

But I honestly don't know if I ever could log onto her blog again.

Unfortunately, she became very linked with another character whose mun I no longer talk to and have in fact blocked on this blog and my other rp blog for Variel.

Her tumblr has a lot of memories for me and I truly have no idea if I could ever face all of that again.

Which sucks cuz I have such a strong pull to want to throw her back into the ring so to speak.

Wanted to kinda just vent a bit I think, it always sucks having somewhere you've been few years end up being somewhere you feel as though you can never go back to due to other people)

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

(Vague hand wave at this again. i am still curious)

(we'll see how i am feeling, jess has kinda just been a round fretting so I'll see if I can get some stuff out in one way or another)

(many apologies to all the folks i have drafts with <3 I love you and thank you for your patience)

OOC

(The logout thing is now so expected I'm not even phased but I am wondering why it's happening. Like that's been a known thing for what? almost a year? maybe over?

I wonder if it is a "bug" or it's them trying to force something that I haven't seen folks chatting about. Idk)

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

OOC

(The logout thing is now so expected I'm not even phased but I am wondering why it's happening. Like that's been a known thing for what? almost a year? maybe over?

I wonder if it is a "bug" or it's them trying to force something that I haven't seen folks chatting about. Idk)

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Jess just giggled at Edda's reaction, suspecting the girl was about to be majorly disappointed but that was alright. There was plenty of space for the young Apollo child to add her own doodles to the fridge.

They arrived at the cabin soon after, the door swinging open as the torches flared up in greeting. With the amount of spirits Nico occasionally had clinging to him, it was a surprise that the cabin hadn't had one nestled into it prior.

Jess guided Edda in, using a hand to pat the doorway as they did so.

And there by the first bed on the right was their newly doodled-on black mini fridge, covered in a multitude of glowing in the dark. . .well everything dark and spooky with some jewels thrown in really. The markers used sitting on top of it in their packaging.

"Ta daaaa~"

A Gentle Talk (closed thread)

@discordantweave

There was a soft knock on the door at the Apollo cabin, the sun was fading behind the horizon, the sky, orange and pink fading into purple and starry dark blue.

Dinner had long since passed but Jess well, she'd gotten a little snack happy and deciding to share them with one of her favourite younger cousins wasn't even a question.

So there she stood, black shopping bag handle wrapped around her wrist, arms loosely crossed. Just waiting.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Do you guys think that ambrosia and nectar tasting like the best thing they can taste is a sort of metaphor for people with ADHD getting addicted easily?

I just realised how easily anyone could get addicted to ambrosia and nectar, even though it’s really dangerous. And people with ADHD can get more easily addicted to anything because of the dopamine, so demigods are really in danger regarding that, aren’t they?

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

“Did you wash your face?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

“Brush your hair?”

“…Yes.”

As soon as he says it, he coughs. A freckled hand moves to itch at his throat, rub at slowly puffing eyes.

“You, William Andrew,” Lee says, grinning, “are a liar.”

Will scowls. “Am not!”

The effect of his glare is significantly undermined by the redness of his eyes and the cough that interrupts him mid-sentence. Shaking his head, Lee leans into his bunk and scoops his brother up, heading to the Big House. He slides his hand in tangled, curly hair as Will rests his head on his shoulder, still breathing heavily.

“I can feel the knots in your hair, doofus.”

Will curls up tighter in his hold, muffling another cough in his elbow. “Nuh-uh.” He sniffles. “Hey, Lee, am I dying?”

Lee snorts. “No, you’re not dying.” He ducks into the back entrance of the infirmary, flicking on the lights and setting Will on the counter of the nurse’s station.

Will’s brow furrows. “Then what?”

With his swollen tongue, it sounds more like ‘den wah’. Lee picks up the pace — he’s pretty sure, based on what he knows, that the reaction will go away on its own, but a little Benadryl can’t hurt.

“You’re having an allergic reaction.”

He finally finds the stash of Benadryl — who sorted the mortal meds cupboard by colour again — and grabs one of the little measuring cups. Will sees the medicine and immediately starts whining, trying to climb off the counter.

After a minute of wrangling, he manages to keep Will put with one leg over both of his, chin hooked around his shoulder to hinder any escape attempts so he can pour the medicine with both hands. (He pours one teaspoon, even though Will is eight and should be having two. He’s too small for two. It worries him, a little bit — but there is nothing in his vitals to indicate anything’s wrong, so he must just be a late bloomer. Or maybe he and Michael are just destined to remain under five feet for eternity.)

“I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it I’m not drinking it ew ew ew ew ew —”

“Yes you are —”

“No! Gross! It’s disgusting!”

“You’ve never even had it before!”

Will looks at the tiny little cup like there are worms writhing in it. (He would probably be more willing to eat it if it was worms. Last summer he ate an ant before Lee could stop him. No one told him demigod life would involve wrangling dangerously impulsive children, and he would like a refund, please, thanks.) “I can tell.” He clamps his mouth shut, turning away. “I am not drinking it.”

“It will help you,” Lee says exasperatedly. Was he this difficult as a child? He needs to call his mother. “I can literally see you scratching your throat, you little snot.”

He shoves his hands under his thighs. “No.”

“…It’s bubblegum flavoured.”

Will turns slowly to look at him, evaluating the little cup with suspicion.

“Bubblegum?”

Lee shakes it enticingly. “Bubblegum.”

After a long, tense moment, Will nods once.

“Fine.” He accepts the little cup, bringing it up close to his face to inspect with one squinting eye. “But if it’s disgusting I’m spitting it out.”

He brings the little cup to his lips for the most delicate, most minuscule of sips, more of a dip of the tongue than anything. Lee rolls his eyes. A second later, a pleased look slots on his face, and he downs the rest of the medicine in one large gulp.

Immediately, some of the swelling reduces, and he stops breathing so laboriously.

“There you go,” Lee murmurs, smoothing back his hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gods, you’re stubborn.”

He’s smiling as he says it, leaning down to press a kiss to Will’s freckled forehead. He slumps into it, sighing, arms winding their way around Lee’s neck almost shyly. Understanding the gesture for the plea that it is, Lee scoops him up again, wincing as he elbows his ribs in an effort to get comfortable, and starts putting the medicine away one-handed (by alphabet, the correct way to sort.)

“You sleepy?” he asks softly, feeling Will grow heavier against him. He crosses his fingers — Apollo kids don’t often suffer side effects of medication, but he’s hoping the drowsiness’ll kick in. It’ll be nice if Will actually, like, sleeps through the night. For once.

“Mhm.”

Smiling wider, he flicks off the lights and steps out into the late evening. Cicada song swells in the mid-spring mugginess, owls hooting somewhere in the darkness. The curfew harpies’ chittering grows nearer and nearer. Lee waves to some of his friends as he sees them puttering outside their cabins, running through the last of their nightly routines, and finally ducks into Cabin Seven.

“He out?” Diana asks, hushed, setting aside her guitar to walk over.

Lee hums. “Almost. Had to give him some Benadryl, so he’s sleepy.” His smile turns sly. “He lied to me about brushing his hair and broke out in hives.”

“Of course he’s allergic.” She leans forward, shaking her head, and presses a gentle kiss to his temple. He doesn’t stir. “Goodnight, sweetpea.”

The rest of his siblings call out their own soft goodnights as Lee walks over to Will’s bunk, covered in stickers and bracketed by Michael and Leanna, and sets him on the mattress. It takes him several minutes to pry himself out of his grip.

“Love you,” he whispers. He brushes his knuckle across his cheek. “Night, kiddo.”

———

The next morning, Will sleeps in for hours. The rest of them rise as usual with the sun, but he’s snoring, drooling onto his Star Wars pillowcase. The cabin is filled with muffled snickers and snapping cameras.

“I am going to have so much ammo on him by the time he’s thirteen and embarrassed by everything,” Michael says gleefully. “So, so much ammo.”

Lee grins at him. “Make sure I get a copy.”

The walk to breakfast is almost strange — the twelve of them again, no baby brother. Melody, complaining about the Hermes girl who is not picking up on any of her hints, pauses mid-sentence to ask if she can swear. Cass laughs out loud and allows it. Quickly, breakfast becomes a competition of who can swear the most or the most colourfully, free now that there are no little ears (as if Michael hasn’t supplied Will with a vast vocabulary already).

By the time Will stumbles into the pavilion, rubbing sleepy eyes, breakfast is almost over.

“Well, hello, lazy bones,” Lee teases, getting up to grab him a plate. Will trails slightly behind him, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt.

“‘M not lazy,” he grouches, accepting the heaping plate Lee hands to him, “you drugged me.”

They walk to the brazier near the Apollo table, taking in the sweet smell as Will scrapes off a hefty chunk of olive bread. Lee waits for him to close his eyes and finish mouthing a quick prayer before guiding him, still sleepy, to the bench.

“I didn’t drug you. You took the medicine yourself.”

“Um, no way! Unless a patient is educated about the risks, benefits, and alternatives about a treatment, they do not have informed consent.” He nods resolutely, evidently proud of himself for remembering the spiel. “Ergo, you drugged me.”

Lee has the sudden, overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Will is — he’s just so bright, and so little. Eight years old and chattering off about informed consent, intently watching Michael in the infirmary, taking notes in his little blue notebook and wrapping bandages on burns with his tongue poking out between lost teeth. When Lee was eight years old, he was chasing his friends around at recess, chattering to anyone who would listen about Pokémon.

He had felt it, when the glowing gold lyre appeared above Will’s head: this child will do great things. They’d all felt it. Cass had gone stiff, eyes flashing green and face creasing in horror, before remembering herself and the big blue eyes watching her, scared, and plastering a smile on her face. ‘Great things’ is never a good thing for a demigod to do. A demigod destined for great things is a demigod doomed.

With every straining molecule, he wants to turn to the heavens and scream, no! You will not have him! You will not use him! He is not yours to toy with, to use until you’re bored! I will not allow it! By my dying breath I will not allow it!

Instead, he swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “What kind of dork says the word ‘ergo’,” and laughs when Will sticks out his tongue. He reminds his baby brother to chew with his mouth closed and keep his elbows off the table, lest his mama kick his ass, and forces himself to focus on the way he leans into Lee’s side as he eats; to memorize the wideness of his unburdened smile.

———

“I’m allergic to lying?!”

“Seems like it,” Lee confirms, closing one eye to line up a shot. He breathes in, holds, then exhales, letting the arrow loose. It hits the bullseye, but not quite as centred as he’d like it to be. Shoot. He sets down his bow, and Will runs off, scooping up the volley and running back with them.

(Gods, Lee loves having a little brother.)

“That’s not a real allergy,” he huffs, placing an arrow in Lee’s waiting hand. “The ten most common allergy types are foods, animals, pollen, mold, dust mites, medications, latex, insect stings, cockroaches, and perfumes or household chemicals. Other allergens are rare but not impossible, but all are a result of physical stimuli. An allergy to a concept or person is a figure of speech.”

Lee squints at him. “Do you know what ‘stimuli’ means?”

“No.”

“It means a thing that evokes a specific reaction. Where’d you read that?”

“‘The Flu, The Plague, and the Common Cold — How We Are Shaped By Reacting’ by Phyllis Ledger.”

“Huh.”

He lines up another arrow — closer to the centre, this time. Good enough.

They don’t learn a lot about paediatric care at camp, or really anything outside of first aid and emergency services, but he’s pretty sure that normal eight-year-olds don’t read and memorize medical textbooks in their spare time. Is he supposed to nurture that? He has no idea how to nurture that.

It’s kinda funny, though. Cute.

“How can I be allergic to lying if that’s impossible?”

“Is sewing a severed arm back on a person using magical nectar and singing songs possible?”

Will pauses, considering. “Okay. I guess so.” He waits, letting Lee focus to make another shot. “I still think it’s stupid. Are you allergic to lying?”

“Nope.”

“Is Cass?”

“Negative.”

“Michael?”

Lee scoffs. “If Michael was allergic to lying, he would be dead.”

“Is anyone else allergic to lying?”

“Nope.” This time, the arrow lands in the dead centre — finally. “Just you, kiddo.”

He’s heard, of course, of children of Apollo afflicted with such an inconvenience before. Their dad is the god of truth, after all. It’s bound to happen.

Will frowns. “What are the parameters?”

Lee glances curiously at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what is lying? Am I allergic to lying, or not telling the truth? They’re different, you know.” He fidgets with the last arrow of the volley, picking at the tail. “Am I gonna get hives if I say something that’s not true, even if I think it’s true? What if I say something that’s a lie but everyone believes it’s true, like when people believed smoking was good for you?” He gasps, looking at Lee with wide, worried eyes. “Oh my gods, am I allowed to be sarcastic?”

Lee tries his very best to hold back his laughter. He is obviously unsuccessful, because Will scowls, shoving him as hard as he can and throwing off his last shot.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Lee snickers, jogging down the range to gather his arrows. He slides them into the quiver, tossing it and his bow onto the equipment deck. “You’re very adorable when you’re mad. You get all —” he pokes Will’s dimpled cheeks, grinning when it makes him smile — “pouty and red. Like Tinkerbell.”

“You’re mean. You’re a horrible mean big brother and I want Beckendorf to adopt me instead.”

“I’ll let him know,” Lee says drily. “C’mon, kid. There’re cabin inspections tonight; I know you got Lego everywhere. Time to clean up. I swear, if we get Castor again I’m gonna —”

“Oh, I didn’t see you guys! I hope I’m not interrupting your practice.”

Lee stumbles. “— lose it.” He trails off weakly “Hey, Carter.”

The son of Athena smiles widely, dark eyes twinkling. His front tooth is just slightly crooked, and Lee finds himself staring at it.

“Hi, Lee.”

Lee wonders, briefly, if he has suddenly developed tachycardia. It certainly feels like it. He remembers something Will had rattled off during lunch yesterday — hummingbirds don’t actually hum, they just beat their wings thousands of times per minute, often in sync with their heart. Lee feels a strange kinship with the little birds right about now.

Will clears his throat loudly.

Carter startles. “Oh! Oh, hi, Will, I’m sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Will squints suspiciously. “Uh-huh.”

“I was just hoping to use the archery range, if you’re done with it.” He tucks a lock behind his ear. “Or, um. We can share, if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Lee rushes to assure, “I actually just finished, so I’m all — it! It’s all yours!” He clears his throat, sure his face is flaming. “Uh, take it away! Shoot straight!”

Mortified, he clamps his hands on Will’s shoulders and practically shoves him forward, rushing away as fast as is socially acceptable.

“Okay,” Carter calls out behind him, audibly confused. “See you around, Lee.”

Lee makes some sort of horrible, crackling chucking sound. “Right-o!”

Just bury him. Really.

“Smooth,” Will mutters, the second they’re out of earshot. Then he pauses, delighted. “Hey! I can still be sarcastic!”

Lee flicks him on the forehead, scowling. “Shut up.”

———

“— it just seems so vague, right? I mean, say I look at the sky and say, the sky is green. That’s obviously not true. But what if I think it’s true? Or what if I think blue is green, and green is blue? Am I being truthful? Is truth defined by my belief, or by whoever I’m speaking to? Or some arbitrary, so-called objective standard? And what if —”

“Will,” Lee begs, hands pressed to his rapidly-pulsating temples, “for the love of Zeus, please settle down.”

“I can’t,” he says dramatically. He gets another couple jumps on his (FRESHLY MADE) bed before Lee gets fed up an wallops him with a pillow, sending him tumbling with a shriek. “Child abuse! I’m telling Chiron!” He makes a pleased noise. “Hey, I can still exaggerate! I wonder if acting is considered lying —”

“I am going to lose my mind.”

“— and what about, like, withholding the truth? Like, for example, if you asked me, hey, Will, did I make a big embarrassing fool out of myself in front of Carter this morning, and I do not say yeah, totally, I was embarrassed for you —”

“That’s it.”

Lee pounces on him, murderous, digging his fingers into his brother’s sides as he shrieks with laughter, pinning down his arms so he can’t writhe away.

“Mercy! Mercy! I’m sorry, I’m —”

“You’re literally lying right now!” Lee says in disbelief. “I can see your eyes reddening!”

Luckily, the reaction isn’t so severe this time. Maybe it’s a smaller lie, leaning more into teasing than anything, or maybe even the universe can’t be so cruel when faced with Will’s giggles. Either way, Lee tickles him until he’s begging for mercy for real, gasping as he darts away.

“You’re such a brat,” Lee says fondly, catching his breath.

Will sticks out his tongue. “Nuh uh.”

“Get over here, doofus. It’s nine o’clock. You were supposed to be in bed a half-hour ago, I’ll tell you a story.”

Predictably, that gets him quiet, clambering over the mussed sheets and shoving himself into Lee’s side, leg sprawled over his knees and chin digging into his chest. Big blue eyes turn to him with attention, wider than the sea and skies, sparkling, clear with open trust. The lump surfaces in Lee’s throat again, and he brings his hands up to smooth down Will’s hair, distracting himself by untangling the many knots.

“One day,” he begins, voice a little wobbly, “there was a boy.”

“In a galaxy far far away?”

“No. Shut up.”

Will pouts. Lee kisses him on the forehead.

“There was a regular boy on regular Earth. And he was small and clumsy, because his brain was too big for his body and threw him off balance.”

“That’s called a Chiari malformation.”

“William Andrew.”

“Sorry.”

“Gods. Anyways. The boy.” He clears his throat. “The boy was the most curious boy to ever exist. He would observe things, with his big eyes, for hours, trying to figure out how everything in the whole world worked. He’d memorized how every creature in the pond worked together when he was four years old. By the time he was five he could speak frog, and dance with the fireflies.”

Will giggles. “A boy can’t speak frog, that’s ridiculous. Can the frog speak back?”

“Shhh. Listening ears. One day, when the boy was eight, he got very bored by his house, even with the pretty pond. The frogs were too busy to play with him and the fireflies had flown off to work, so he decided to go on an adventure.”

“A quest?”

“Yes, exactly. A quest for knowledge. He decided he would learn every piece of information possible so that one day he could bring it back to his village and share it with everybody. Do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“He was successful. He spent many years travelling and observing and running from monsters to get all the information he could. And when he came back to the village, the people saw that he was kind and intelligent but very naive, so they sucked out all the knowledge from his head to use for themselves and he died. The end.”

“What? No!” Will pushes himself upright, unfortunately putting his entire weight on Lee’s spleen, jaw dropped in outrage. “That’s a horrible story! You can’t end the story like that!”

“My story,” Lee wheezes. “I can end it however I want.”

“Tell it better!”

“Fine, fine. Get off my organs.”

When Will is settled again, curled in the crook of Lee’s arm and glaring at him suspiciously, Lee continues.

“The villagers didn’t kill the boy. You’re right. But they weren’t very careful with them, either. The boy wanted very much to help, so much that it was sometimes all he could think about. And the villagers didn’t mean to, but they treated the boy like he was a knowledge machine — taking and taking and taking, forgetting to give back, to check on him. One day, the boy was so drained of knowledge that he collapsed.”

“Of stress-induced exhaustion?” Will asks softly. His eyes, finally, have begun to droop.

Lee smiles. “Something like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“The villagers panicked, because the boy wasn’t awake to tell them how to fix him. They didn’t know what to do. Some of them, even, didn’t know why he collapsed at all, they thought he might be cursed and didn’t like him anymore.”

“But he wasn’t cursed, he was sick!”

“That’s right. He was sick, because he didn’t stop to take care of himself. He let people take too much without making sure he had enough to stay whole.”

For a long time, long enough that Lee thinks he’s asleep, Will doesn’t say anything. And then he says, in a very small voice, “Does the boy still die?”

“No,” Lee whispers, tightening his hold. “His big brother comes back from a long trip and heals him. And then he yells are the villagers for making him sick, and makes them promise to be more careful. The end. For real this time.”

“I like the second story better,” Will says. “It’s good that he had his big brother there.”

“Always.” Lee swallows, shifting once Will’s eyes flutter shut, sliding him under the covers. “Always, kiddo.”