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spacetiel · 1 year

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happy wedding day destiel i wrote an orpheus eurydice fic

Title: no grave can hold my body down

Length: 6k

Summary:

He thought of Cas’ teary eyes, the way he looked as the black tendrils of the empty collected him, and the way Dean’s mouth refused to move, stunned to silence like the rest of him. Castiel had had to push him out of the way. He knew that there would be very little that could get rid of him this time.

“Have you ever heard of the Greek myths?” Empty Zachariah questions. At his blank-stared confusion, it adds, “Orpheus and Eurydice to be exact.” ~~~ Cas is taken by the Empty. Dean is going to get him back.

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45023290

Preview under the cut!

It takes three weeks of Castiel being dead for Dean to find him. Three weeks of fighting, searching, and begging any being or creature he could find for some kind of answer. He had come up empty handed.

In the end, all it takes is falling asleep.

“Hello, hello, hello,” says Meg, blinking into existence. It isn’t the real Meg, though, because Dean went to sleep and woke up under a pure black backdrop, alone. He always kinda wondered what the Empty was like, having been through Hell. It wasn’t that damn impressive.

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asks, bluntly. He doesn’t really care about the hows or whys of the situation. They don’t matter.

“So impatient, Dean Winchester,” The Empty Meg drawls out, circling him, “It’s been a while.”

His sense of space is all out of wack here, so the second it steps out of his view it's like a goddamn black hole. It is far too early to lose focus. He tries to follow the sound of its voice.

“Where. Is. Cas.”

“In due time, Dean. For now, I have a question,” Empty Meg grins, peeking back around to meet his gaze. They aren’t what he remembers of Meg’s eyes. Instead what he meets is pitch black and swirling, the kind of darkness he’s afraid of drowning in, “Where are you?”

Dean takes a step back, “I’m not playing your goddamn games.”

The Empty takes a step forward, almost floating as it walks, “If you had to guess? Pretty please?”

“I’m in the friggin’ Empty,” Dean spits. Empty Meg grins at him, hands clasping together.

“Correct you are. Good job, you get a treat! Now, do you notice anything about this place?” Empty Meg lazily gestures around. He can’t help his eyes following the movement, Empty Meg is the only solid thing to focus on. He shifts his position with discomfort.

“Pretty hard to notice anything around here, it’s empty,” Dean says as Empty Meg goes behind his back once more. He really doesn’t have the time for this bullshit. He turns his whole body to follow it, but the Empty is too quick.

“Except for you, that is.”

Chasing the noise only leads him to face himself. The Empty version of himself, at least. Empty Him wrinkles its nose with a mocking grin, “hard to be Empty when you people are always knocking around. You in particular. You’re human, you were never meant to be here at all.”

“You brought me here, that ain’t my fault,” Dean says, low and warning. He knows the kind of trouble multiple Deans can stir up, even if they aren’t both real. Empty Him rolls its eyes.

“You know what is your fault?” The Empty steps towards him, voice turned venomous, lip curling into a sneer. It knocks its fist against its forehead for emphasis, “You and your little God pounding at my door day in and day out, always crying out for Cas.”

Jack hadn’t said a word to him or Sam since he became God. He assumed- They both assumed that he was taking a lesson from Chuck’s hands-off approach. It isn’t like they hadn’t had problems before, either. He can’t blame the kid for stepping back, even if they’re family. Turns out, he had been trying quite a bit.

Sam had been sad when Cas died, but it wasn’t the way Dean had been sad. He didn’t quite get why Dean couldn’t so much as look at a trench coat, or his stupid truck, or anything else that reminded him of Cas without trying to put a hole through the wall. Cas had been dead before and Sam… Well, Sam started to get over it. At least Jack understood. ‘Course he did, that was his dad.

“Give him back then. Sounds easy enough.”

The Empty laughs in his face.

“Slow down, Dean, I’m getting there,” Empty Him grins. In the span of a blink, the Empty switches its shape from his own to the long-dead Zachariah, “I’m here to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” Dean demands, completely unable to hide his interest. Hope, stupid hope, is only quieted by knowing better. It’s all too good to be true and the Empty still has a lot of power. Even then, what lengths wouldn’t he go to to have Cas back?

“Have you ever heard of the Greek myths?” Empty Zachariah questions. At his blank-stared confusion, it adds, “Orpheus and Eurydice to be exact.”

“The name rings a bell,” Dean says carefully. Sam found a book of myths as a kid and didn’t shut up till Dad made him, but it was thirty odd years ago and he couldn’t be expected to remember all of them. That was Sammy’s job.

“The point is, I’m letting you walk out of here, Castiel in tow, with two simple, simple conditions. Think you can do that for me?” Empty Zachariah looked at him as if it was talking to a child, cruel sharpness still lingering in his eyes.

He didn’t want it to, but hope still hung around his heart. It was a hand, reaching out for what he wanted. Too good to be true.

“Depends, what’s the catch?” Dean narrows his eyes, trying to stay aware of his nonexistent surroundings. If this is a trap, he isn’t gonna fall for it.

“Well, if you were smarter I’m afraid you would already know,” Zachariah says, patting his head mockingly, “I’m going to provide a path out of here, and you are going to lead Castiel out. However, rule number one: you cannot look at the angel until you have gotten out successfully. Rule number two is that no matter how it goes out there, you and that little overpowered nephilim agree not to bother me ever again.”

The story starts to sound a little familiar. Dean steps out of Zachariah’s reach, “So, what? I can’t look at Cas or you’re going to come drag his ass back into the quicksand or something?”

Empty Zachariah smiles, “Or something. No matter how it goes, you agree to leave me alone for all eternity. I’m very tired, Dean.”

“If you’re so friggin tired, why not just let us have Cas back? What’s with all the friggin pageantry?”

Empty Zachariah hums while pretending to think, “Consider it a punishment for annoying me. Besides, I would never cave that easily. Usually I would demand a trade, be grateful I didn’t.”

The mention of a trade with the Empty still stings in Dean’s chest. He’ll be back soon.

“Do you agree, then?” The Empty asks, holding its hand out, “Do we have a deal?”

It had been over the moment a deal was even mentioned. He knew his answer. If he was being honest, he would know what his answer is even if the Empty had demanded a trade. It was too, too easy.

“Fine,” he says, taking its hand, “whatever it takes.”

“Good,” the Empty grins, and disappears.

#Destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #im covering all my bases here #i am not beating the stereotypes (hozier title)#this was almost mcd and then my friend talked me out of it last minute

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morvantmortuary · 1 year

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Hi, Rae! I hope this finds you well 😊

That's a fun list of WIPs you've shared, and if you're willing to share some more - I'd love to hear about 'light the sky and hold on tight'. Cheers!

nora darling!!! <3 thanks so much for taking the time to ask. I hope you're doing well too :D <3 I appreciate your patience, work has been busier today than normal lmao

so "light the sky and hold on tight" is a rora request with a he/him reader that's thisclose to done, I just have a couple scenes left to tie off. I really like it so far, it's one where we kind of get an insight into some of her thought process behind her background scheming. here's a snippet from what I have so far:

This was calculated - your brain was already shorting out just a little from the contact and the smell of her sweetly floral perfume (magnolia, jasmine, and white sandalwood - you’d looked it up one night when you couldn’t sleep for it driving you insane). It wasn’t that her sweetness or affection was a mask, per se. Quite the contrary, you knew they were as real as anything.

Realer than lots of things, in just how intense they could be sometimes.

But this was an unspoken appeal, and you couldn’t help the quiet, curious voice at the back of your brain even as she made it fuzz over. “Did you…” you blinked, trying to re-focus on her face rather than the low neckline of her dark dress at your seated eye level. “Need something, love?” She’d chosen to stay with you at your place today, insisting she needed a break from the Mortuary. But she’d been oddly unsettled all morning, flitting restlessly from room to room when she thought you weren’t looking. You’d thought at first that was because she’d only brought a skeleton kit of her usual tools for her project in progress, but you wondered now if it wasn’t something else.

“…Well,” Rora demurred, glancing askance. That meant ‘yes,’ but she was trying to be polite. “Only if I’m not taking you from anything urgent, sweet pea.” She glanced over your shoulder at your monitor again, as if to check for herself.

“No,” you shook your head, drawing her attention back to you. You lifted your hands to gently pull hers from your hair, kissing the backs of her palms before loosely holding them in your own. “What’s up?”

Rora’s smile softened at your affection, and for the briefest second, you saw her look away again - as if for a moment, she was hesitating. “I hate to ask,” she began, her teeth catching at her lush lower lip. “But I need a ride.”

“Sure,” you said immediately, still fiddling with her fingers in your own as you swiveled slightly from side to side in your office chair. “Into town? Did you need to grab something for the, uh,” you paused, trying to remember what you’d seen her working on this morning. “…Possum in a tutu?”

“No,” Rora shook her head with another smile. “Mademoiselle Paulette’s almost done, she just has a final string of pearls waiting for her at home.”

“Of course,” you nodded, your face mock serious. “As every sophisticated possum must have this season.”

Rora giggled, and you couldn’t help but grin — you loved that sound. You’d do anything to hear that sound. Maybe even fight a bear. An undead bear. “Silly, handsome boy.” She reached up with a finger, gently booping your nose, and you felt your face flood with heat. “You’re delightful, you know that?”

“Yeah, well…” you trailed off, unable to come up with a retort as you gazed into her eyes. You knew the green like the color of your own bedroom walls, by now, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t still get lost in them — dark, like the mossy entrance of a cave. Sometimes, if you looked too long, you felt a slight tug somewhere inside your gut.

Like Orpheus standing at the threshold, descending to search for Eurydice.

“Little Shoot?” Rora tilted her head to look at you, and you snapped back to reality. “You still with me?”

“Yup!” You nodded too quickly. “Yeah, sorry, just, uh. Work brain.” You blinked, fighting the urge to shake your head. “…Where did you need to go?” you asked. You realized she’d never told you. Or hadn’t told you yet, you corrected yourself. …Right?

Rora’s smile thinned, and for the briefest second, it whittled itself into something oddly curved and sharp. “It’s not far,” she said, the smile vanishing and her eyes widening innocently quick enough to feel like whiplash. “And what I need will only take a few minutes, I promise.”

“Sure, no worries,” you nodded, feeling your own head tilt just slightly. “I’m done with this, and I don’t have anything else to do today.” You shrugged, and, briefly, something felt a little… odd, when you tried to smile. “Did you want to grab dinner or something afterwards?”

“Hmm.” The tip of Rora’s tongue darted out, running over her lips. “We’ll see how you feel after my little errand, first. Okay?”

“…Sure, Ror,” you said again, your smile feeling even stranger now. “Whatever works, we have all evening.”

“You’re so agreeable,” Rora cooed, ruffling your hair affectionately before kissing your forehead. “My strong little succulent, so sweet.” And just like that, she turned, her hair a fragrant black veil flowing behind her. “I’m just going to get my scarf and some things, and then I’ll be ready!” she sing-songed.

You blinked again as if emerging from a daze, one of your hands reaching up to check and see if she’d left a soft pink lipstick stain on your forehead.

Your fingers came away from your skin looking like they’d crushed a rose petal. You sat there, wondering just why it felt like your true love was being a little too vague about this… errand, and absently rubbed them against your thumb without noticing you were smearing the pink even further.

our girl is always up to something <3 I'm really looking forward to sharing this one when it's ready, it's probably one of my favorite things I've written for her so far.

thanks again for taking the time, babe, I really appreciate it! <3

#nice people!#nora!! 🥰#rora vibes #rora morvant #aurore morvant #aurore maria morvant #rora and her reader #ask game #wip snippet #morvant mortuary

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razrgrl · 5 months

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Holiday Adventures: Adventure 2

Back we got back on the New York Thruway, the fog lifted into a goopy gray sky spitting down occasional rain. We cranked up the Hadestown soundtrack and headed for home.

I have to tell you, those of you who have never experienced driving across the entirety of New York State, it is a truly HUGE state as Eastern states go. It takes forever to get across. It's pretty, but sparsely populated and you have to really watch your gas gauge or you'll run out of gas miles away from any gas station.

I did not run out of gas.

We were driving up the side of a mountain and I noticed that the acceleration was a little… jerky. It started, and then let go. Started and then let go. Then it was OK for a while.

There was no noise and no burning smells or anything… but it felt really wrong.

I clutched the steering wheel while Orpheus realized that he let Eurydice die because of his stupid song and with every bit of will I could manage, I willed the stupid thing over the top of the mountain and coasted it into a rest area.

I was on the New York Thruway -- a toll way with state-operated rest areas every 70 miles or so. We were part way between Utica and Schenectady and smack dab in the middle of rural upstate New York.

The car let me putter around the parking lot and over to where the gas pumps are. Reverse worked and I tucked my disloyal car into a barely legal spot.

Now what? When all ideas fail me, there is only one thing to do: Walk the dog.

We found about 2 square feet of grass and the dog just stared up at me sadly. I stood there for a few minutes and decided that it was just too much of a risk to try to drive the car. Maybe the highway web site could direct me to a tow truck.

It turns out that the New York Thruway actually contracts with local tow companies and you have no choice but to use their tow companies.

Fine. I was expecting to have to pay through the nose for this anyway and this saved me a bunch of phone calls. The guy at the Thruway Authority called a truck and told me it would be a 30-minute wait.

We sat and waited for 30 minutes. The tow truck put my faithless car on the back and the driver said "get in!"

It was a standard flatbed tow truck and a cab that looked a little small for three adults and a freaked out dog.

But we persevered. Predictably, the dog was in the worst shape. He was already upset that the car stopped and we were just sitting there when we be going somewhere and so -- obviously -- the world was about to end and the dog-eating demons were waiting just inside the big noisy thing with clanking chains and huge wheels and this was the end for him.

He plastered himself to the asphalt. It took me 4 grabs to finally get him and heave him 5 feet up and into the truck cab. Then I heaved myself in so that I could keep him from leaping to his death in the rest area parking lot. Cici quietly squeezed in beside me. We fit our feet in as best we could around the dog on the floor and closed the door.

It was amazingly uncomfortable for all involved -- except, possible, for Gus who found that there was a little window at the base of the truck door that was just for him.

Gus likes windows.

It was an hour in that truck. The driver was nice enough but anytime a person has to start a conversation with "I'm not a conspiracy theorist or anything but…" I kind of go on edge. I was a nonjudgmental listener and tried to keep the conversation to the local area and cars.

He took us to a Kia dealership in Schenectady. I handed over my credit card and, $600 later, he took my deceitful car off his truck behind the service center. The transmission was feeling cooperative and I was, again, able to tuck it into a parking lot.

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greenorangevioletgrass · 3 years

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Actress/yn and Tom didn’t know they were auditioning for the same movie and they have a history of ALMOST getting together so the tension is 🥵🥵🥵🥵

love this!!! this got a wee bit angsty more than anything, but i hope you like it!!

cw: almost lovers, pining, fluff, angst, Hadestown references lol

here's the song in the scene btw!

***

The decision to not be together was a very conscious, very mature one. That movie was both of your breakthrough into more dramatic and complex roles, and you simply couldn't jeopardize. You needed to be teammates and you both agreed to prioritize work.

(although if one of you fell asleep on each other's shoulder in between scenes, or the fact that you both cried your eyes out and hugged for ages after the wrap party, neither of you said a word.)

You simply hopped off a plane to your next project in LA, while Tom moved on to his-- a massive blockbuster this time- in Australia.

There were customary texts at Christmas and birthdays and movie premieres and award nominations, but you didn't see each other for a full year. And maybe you tried your best not to.

Until Hadestown.

It was your screen test with your potential male lead. But problem is, nobody would tell you who it is you're acting opposite.

"You'll see," the casting director simply smiled dubiously, leaving you in nervous anticipation.

The door opened eventually, and in came the last person you expected-- wanted to see. Same trusty grey hoodie he wore when he left for London. Same brown curls. Same freckled nose. Same brown eyes that managed to emulate so much within a split second; the shock, the elation, the... regret?

"Tom, oh my God. Hi!" you stood up from your chair, sheepishly walking up to him.

"Y/N, I didn't know you were--" he stammered, doing the awkward dance of hug-or-handshake, although you smoothly pulled him in for the latter. Brief and friendly.

"Neither do I," you shrugged. Poking his arm lightly, "You look good."

He blushed. "Thanks. You're also-- wow." he chuckled to himself, as if he couldn't believe this was happening.

And quite honestly, neither could you.

The briefing and the practice run went by in a blur. Tom being your screen test partner had caught you off-guard, but you wouldn't let that get in the way. You wanted the part and you knew it like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling Tom sensed that, too. Staying in your own lane was easy, at least in the beginning.

"Alright. So Eurydice, remember that you're at your lowest point here. You're standing by the river-- mourning the memories you lost. You can't remember anything. You just have this yearning, this ache in your chest," Julie, the director, noted for you one last time. "And Orpheus, you have walked so far, for so long for this girl, thinking that she left because you weren't enough."

"Got it." Tom raised a thumb up from his spot, the corner of the room.

"Alright, ready? Rolling and... Action!"

The pianist played the opening notes of the sequence, but you paid it no mind. Until a voice rang through. His voice.

"Come home with me."

And just like that, the memories came rushing in. The very first words he ever said. The boy with the paper flower and earnest eyes and the brightest take on the world. How could you forget?

"It's you," you barely uttered. It's as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

The air that was taken away from you seemed to be bestowed upon him, as he let a sigh of relief as he ran up to you, tackling you into a crushing hug.

"It's me," he murmured into your hair.

"Orpheus," was the name that fell from your lips, although his embrace, his scent, his warmth just screamed Tom.

"Eurydice," he sang your name the way he always did, and kissed you hard as if to remind himself that you're really here.

It felt so right, all worries went out of your head for a moment. But he pulled away, and pained sobs ripped out of your chest. Pain that you never realized was there.

"I called your name before," you cried. Apologizing. Explaining. Or trying to, knowing how much it must've hurt him.

"I know." He pulled you in closer, foreheads meeting, hand stroking your hair.

"You heard?" you piped up, a sliver of hope sneaking in.

"No. Mr Hermes told me so," he said so earnestly, it made you crack a smile.

But that earnest smile here in this underground hell... Oh, no. He's gonna lose himself like you did yours and horror took over you.

"How'd you get beyond the wall?"

"I sang a song so beautiful, the stones wept and they let me in," he sang the line, and you had no trouble believing the stones did weep and open up for him. "And I can sing us home again."

You wanted to believe him, so bad, but his words were met with emptiness. Quiet. And you remembered where you were.

"No, you can't," you said, deflated and defeated.

"Yes, I can." he looked at you in bewildered amusement and it broke your heart even more.

"No," you insisted. "You don't understand."

He pulled you in his arms again as he heard your voice crack in tears on your last word.

"And cut."

The room came back to life, but you were still stuck in that position. Evening out your sobs and Tom comforted you in the best way possible. It didn't matter that you hadn't seen each other in ages, or that you had feelings left unresolved and now bled into the performance. In that moment, you're all each other's got.

"I've never seen anyone pick it up right away like that," Julie remarked, impressed.

"We look out for one another, don't we Y/N?" Tom replied in good humor.

"Yeah, the amount of times Tom came crying to me is just--" you shook your head, playing along with his harmless banter.

The director thanked both of you and told you they'll be in touch soon, and soon you were walking down the hallway with the boy you wished you'd taken a chance on.

It was poetic. Only... There's no pianist. No variation of his character's musical theme playing. Just your footsteps echoes bouncing all over the space.

"Hey Y/N," he crashed through the silence.

"Hm?"

"Come home with me."

You stopped in your tracks. "What?"

"I'll.. make dinner and we can catch up. I think-- I think, we have a lot to talk about, don't we."

The forced courtesy and unspoken emotions the past year had been hell. And today made you wonder if it was worth it, or if you'd just rather jump in and go for it. So you smiled and said,

"Okay."

***

Tell me what you think! Feedback is not only appreciated, but also very welcomed! And don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed it 😉

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get tagged here or let me know if you wanna get untagged!

#actress!reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #ava writes #wow this is PG af!!!

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Ten: Justice

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: so many tears, mention of child neglect and abuse, child custody battle, court. This is essentially the chapter we’ve all been waiting for. I’m so nervous to post this so please let me know what you think and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 5000>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Ten - Next

Just like the past few days, you had been rudely awoken by a phone call from Diana Prince. This time, you were back in Maxwell’s king sized bed in D.C., with Alistair sandwiched between you and Max.

“Di?” You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Barbara is here. Now. You have to come over. I’m trying to get her to renounce her wish but she’s fighting back. Come in your Amazonian gear and don’t forget your lasso. Hurry!” she exclaimed before hanging up.

You yawned and put the phone back on the hook. You could stay in bed with Alistair and Maxwell forever but, if Diana needed your help, you had to provide. You followed her instructions and headed out without saying anything to Max. You shouldn’t be too long anyways, you decided. Everything would be okay.

***

When Maxwell eventually woke up and you weren’t by his side, he was confused. In fact, to say he was devastated would have been an understatement. Today was his big court date-- the battle where he’d fight for Alistair’s custody. He had faith you’d be there, just like you promised. Only, there was one small thought haunting him in the very back of his mind.

What if you had become too powerful for this world? What if you already had to go back to Themyscira? No. It would be fine-- Max reassured himself. Maxwell got all suited up and Raquel came to the door.

“Thank you for agreeing to watch Alistair.” Maxwell sighed, adjusting his cufflinks.

“It’s really no problem, Mr. Lord.” Raquel smiled graciously, taking Alistair’s hand.

“Daddy?” Alistair asked, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Yeah buddy?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but I really hope you win today.” Alistair confessed before turning around and leaving with Raquel.

***

“You… Diana!?” You shouted, running up to Barbara and untying her from the bed. Barbara’s eyes locked onto you as you helped release her. “Hey listen… I don’t know what’s going on but I’m your friend. I don’t want to hurt you.” you promised, locking your gaze onto her ocean blue eyes. The colour alone was enough to remind you of the beautiful oceans back on Themyscira.

A tear slipped down Barbara’s cheek and you quickly wiped it away, smoothing out her blonde wavy hair. “I feel so foolish,” she choked out, shaking her head. “Just for once I wanted to be the greatest. And all to prove a point.”

“It’s okay,” you shushed her, cautiously wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. You wanted to be careful not to smother her. Barbara had done terrible things, no different to Max, but you knew that it wasn’t really them. That they were both possessed by the power of the wish. “Did you speak to Diana?” you asked eventually, truly wondering where your sister was. She’d called you and yet she wasn’t here.

“I came after her… for-- for the dreamstone,” Barbara confessed as her tears soaked your tunic. “She told me it had been destroyed but that’s… that’s impossible.”

You exhaled. “No Barbara, it’s true. Max and I… we--” you tried to explain but Barbara cut you off.

“Babajide said only true love can--”

“I know.” you sighed, looking down at your feet.

“Oh.” Was the only sound Barbara could bear to omit. “You love him?”

You smiled weakly and nodded your head. “I’ve never really been in love before, I don’t think. But I have this feeling in my heart and no words can describe it. I’ve read about it in mythology… like the story of Orpheus and Eurydice and when I’m with Max I just feel… complete. I feel whole.”

“I know the feeling because I feel it too.” Barbara sniffed, pulling off you and crossing her arms over her chest. You could immediately tell that she was feeling vulnerable.

“You do?”

“With Diana.” Barbara confirmed.

“...You-- you’re in love with Diana?” You asked with a small gasp.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.” Barbara sighed into admittance.

“Then you will know that love is the most powerful thing in the world. Barbara… if you renounce your wish then--”

“I know.” Barbara whimpered, rubbing her tearful eyes.

“The wish might have given you all this power, but I promise you there is nothing more powerful than the love you have for Diana,” you reassured Barbara and took her hands. “And the love she has for you.”

“The-- what?” Barbara asked.

“I’m the goddess of family, Barbara, I have a pretty good judgement of knowing when somebody is in love. I see the way she looked at you in the tomb back in Athens. You could have something so beautiful together,” you smiled, giving Barbara’s hands a light squeeze. “Renounce your wish. For Diana.”

Barbara turned and looked out the window, her lips trembling before she looked back at you. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I renounce my wish.” she declared, and you felt a breeze-- and wind, almost, gush through your hair. The grip on her hand became electric and you pulled off her, noticing the way your body began to glow. Barbara’s eyes snapped open and her jaw slackened as she watched your feet leave the ground. You were floating, a glittering golden aura similar to the lasso of truth highlighting your entire body. It was blinding.

The walls of Diana’s apartment began to crumble around you and you eventually fell to the ground. Barbara gasped upon seeing you again. “You-- you’re outfit. You’re glowing…”

You looked down at yourself and your eyes widened in disbelief. Your typical Amazonian tunic had literally changed colours. What was once brown, was now gold, red and blue-- the traditional colours of a child of Zeus. “Like Diana,” Barbara mumbled. “It’s beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you admired the way your new armour looked. The Gods had blessed you with this transformation, and that must have meant you had done something right. You had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish, after all.

No, love was what had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish.

But the walls around you were still crumbling down and the ground beneath you was splitting. “Oh my-- Barbara. I have to go. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” you said in a panic.

“What? I’m sure Diana doesn’t mind you being here.” Barbara replied, scratching the back of her neck in bewilderment.

“No. The World of Man… I’m too powerful I-- I have to return to Themyscira,” you said in a fluster. You remembered that Diana told you-- with the combination of both of your lassos, you could create a portal that would ensure you returned back home safely. “I have to go now.”

“What about Max?” Barbara asked, standing up and staring at you.

Shit, Max.

The court case.

You were already so late.

“Barbara, I have to go. Keep Diana informed. I-- I have to go see Max and tell him… tell him…”

“Tell him you love him.” Barbara confirmed.

Could you really do that when you were leaving so soon? You opened the window and unravelled your lasso of truth before signalling one final goodbye to Barbara. In a panic you flew out the window and glided through the air, overhead the bustling city beneath you. You had to get to court, at least before the verdict. You couldn’t let him down.

***

“Can both parties please rise?” Judge Edward Wilson requested.

Maxwell felt sick to his stomach. You weren’t here. You were supposed to be here; fixing all of this. You had promised. And you were nowhere in sight. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fingers into a fist. He heard the scraping of the chairs as Julianna and Theodore stood. He followed their actions just a few moments after. It was fine. He could do this without you. Maxwell had come from nothing and he had gotten this far in life completely alone, he could do it again. Maxwell took a deep breath and flattened his suit down before shooting the judge one of his charming, albeit fake, television smiles. The judge grinned, excited to be working on a case with the Max Lord.

“Your honor, I am Theodore Thomas, esteemed family lawyer and I will be representing Miss Julianna Grey on this child custody case.” Ted introduced himself, holding himself high and mighty.

“I’m Julianna Grey, your honor. I’m the biological mother of Alistair Lorenzano and I am here today to request full custody of my son.”

The judge nodded in understanding before turning to Maxwell. “O-oh,” Max shuffled uncomfortably upon realising it was his turn to speak. He looked at the jury of twelve that sat before him. Twelve randomly selected members of the public who were about to learn his true identity. The identity he had kept so well hidden for the last twenty years. “I’m Maxwell Lor-Lorenzano and I’m the biological father of Alistair Lorenzano,” he looked back at Julianna and Theodore who were glaring in his direction. “And I am here today to tell you that I love my son so much.” Maxwell exclaimed.

Judge Edward Wilson adjusted the brimless reading glasses that sat on the curve of his nose. “Mr Lorenzano, you do agree to the case proceedings that will be occurring today, yes?”

“Yes. I do.” Maxwell affirmed, placing both his palms flat on the oak wood table.

“And you do not have an attorney?” Judge Wilson quizzed further.

Maxwell sighed. You should be here. “No I do not. But if possible, may I request a publicly funded attorney?”

“Now now,” Judge Wilson reprimanded, pointing his finger. “I will be the judge of whether or not Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care is sufficient for the transferral of custody.”

The jury murmured amongst themselves, questioning whether or not Max Lord didn’t have a jury because he was broke. They raised their eyebrows, judging the businessman who stood before them. “Unfortunately, with this being a civil case, you are not entitled to a publicly funded attorney.” The Judge hummed, rearranging his stack of papers.

“With all due respect, your honor, we gave Mr Lorenzano ample time to find a representative for this case. This right here is an example of Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care for the minor child in question. If he wanted to even stand a chance at gaining custody of Alistair, he would’ve gotten a lawyer.” Theodore scoffed incredulously whilst Julianna tried her hardest to suppress her smirk. Maxwell knotted his eyebrows together as furiosity consumed him.

Thankfully, Judge Wilson knew better to just dismiss his comment. He turned to Maxwell. “Mr Lorenzano, you said you were ‘busy doing other things’, indicating that those other things are the reason you did not find an attorney to represent your side of the case. May I ask what those things were? Perhaps a work commitment? Or a family commitment?”

Maxwell was still glaring at Theodore for his out of pocket comment. “I care about Alistair, so much.” Maxwell told the court, but his dark eyes were trained only on his ex wife and her current boyfriend. “I would argue that a week in advance is not enough time to hire a lawyer and familiarise themselves with the facts of this case. I was busy doing other things.”

“Facts?” Theodore laughed. “Your honor, Mr Lorenzano knows nothing about ‘facts’. This man is deceitful. He has built his whole career on lies. Don’t you think young Alistair deserves two good role models to look up to? For example, a stay at home mother such as Julianna who can give him her full attention and care, and a family lawyer such as myself, who fights for justice in society?” Maxwell felt nauseated as he was being forced to hear the absolute bullshit Theodore was spouting out. He was painting himself as some kind of hero to a courtroom who knew no different. But that’s what Theodore Thomas did the best. And that was why he was the most successful lawyer in Washington D.C.

“Uh,” Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut. “Not exactly. It’s complicated, your honor. I was in Athens with a friend.” He hated the way the revelation left his lips. But it was the truth. And if he had learned one thing from Diana, it was that the truth is beautiful. But was truth going to win the case?

Judge Wilson blinked momentarily as silence filled the courtroom. A smile flexed upon Theodore’s lips. “You were in Athens with a friend?” Judge Wilson repeated, gritting his teeth.

“Yes, your honor.” Maxwell sighed in admittance.

“Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson addressed Max before glancing towards the jury who were taking notes. “I hope you realise this does not sound good in your favour.”

Maxwell cursed in his mind. Of course it didn’t. He’d gone with you to Athens to help you find and destroy the dreamstone. But he couldn’t say that in court. Hell, he couldn’t say that to anyone. You trusted him with your secret and he wasn’t going to expose you like that. Then again, you had broken your promise. You hadn’t shown up in court. You lied to him. And Maxwell was hurting a lot. He felt betrayed. Nevertheless, he still loved you so much. No doubt the jury would even believe the fact a magical goddess came into Max’s life and encouraged him to accompany her to Athens to destroy a wish-granting stone possessed by the God of Lies. That would just be ridiculous.

Maxwell didn’t reply. “On that note,” Judge Wilson grimaced before turning back to face Julianna and Theodore. “I ask that the claimant address all their points as to why they believe Mr Lorenzano is an unfit father to Alistair Lorenzano.”

Julianna clapped her hands excitedly. Maxwell figured she must have spent her entire life preparing herself for this moment. Max knew that he’d likely have to sit through possibly hours of Julianna and her sleazeball of a boyfriend demonizing him and pushing him down. Nothing new. But when it came to illustrating the point whether or not Maxwell was an unfit father, he didn’t want to hear it. To Max, Alistair was an angel. He deserved the best and Maxwell had always wanted to be the best for his son. None of this would’ve happened if Max hadn’t been led down such a dark path in the first place. Yes, Maxwell often doubted his capability as a parent, but at least he was trying to change. Julianna didn’t even care about Alistair. She was a neglectful mother, always dumping Alistair upon Max without warning so she could spend time with Ted or go shopping with her friends. Maxwell loved his son more than anything else in the whole world.

“Mr Lorenzano, as I’m sure you all know, is what I’d once describe to be a ‘successful’ businessman. Now I personally think he’s just a businessman,” Theodore smirked and Maxwell rolled his eyes. “He’s a television personality who goes by Max Lord. He’s a liar. A con man. Not only has he lied about his identity to the whole world, but he’s tricked the weak minded into investing into his ponzi-scheme.”

“Hey!” A juror interrupted. “I invested in Black Gold Cooperative!”

“Well-I mean, obviously you’re not weak minded.” Theodore quickly backtracked.

“He did just call you weak minded.” Maxwell muttered with a shrug of his shoulders. The juror frowned and sat back down.

An hour passed and both Julianna and Theodore were still taking turns to drag Max down. He felt like giving up. You were his only hope, and you weren’t even there. “Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson began. “Do you have any objections to the claimants allegations?”

“Yes, I object to it all!” Max exclaimed.

“I should rephrase,” Judge Wilson sighed. “Are they telling the truth about you?”

They were. They hadn’t lied. They’d compiled a list of all of Maxwell’s mistakes, errors, and flaws. They had him backed up into a corner he couldn’t get out of. On occasions, were they making a mountain out of a molehill? Of course. But were they honest? Yes. Maxwell had fucked up.

“They are.” Maxwell nodded, his knees becoming weak with anxiety.

“Okay,” The Judge replied, his tone dripping with disappointment and perhaps even sadness. “It’s now your turn to speak, Mr Lorenzano. Although I have no doubt the jury has already come to a decision.”

Maxwell turned to face the jury who were looking at him with identical stone cold expressions. Like he was some kind of villainous monster. A lying criminal. And it was all thanks to Theodore’s stupid little speech.

“Uhm,” Maxwell stood up and brushed down his suit again before walking over to the jury. “Theodore is right. I have done bad things and I have lied to many people. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying to get better. For my son. For Alistair. He gives my life hope and reason and purpose. I believe that he makes me a better person. I’m not sure if any of you have kids of your own but you know how hard the pressure can be. The truth is, I never considered myself a family man. I never wanted children but when Alistair came into my life… for the first time I felt like the universe was on my side,” Maxwell took the polaroid out of his pocket and slid it over for the jury to look at. “This was the day he was born. I had never felt so much love.” Maxwell smiled faintly at the memory.

“Quit it with your sob story.” Theodore moaned, rolling his eyes.

“Let Mr Lorenzano speak.” Judge Wilson snapped back. Max nodded his head with gratitude.

“I never used to believe in love before Alistair was born. And then recently, I got lost. Things didn’t make sense and my mind became clouded with just about all the wrong things. And then this girl came into my life and she reminded me of how it feels to love and be loved in return. So now I do. I believe in love. I believe that love conquers all. That love can end all wars and quash all hatred in the world. Please, I ask that you empathize with me. We’ve all made mistakes. If I could go back and fix it I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Alistair.” Max croaked, letting a real, genuine tear slip down his cheek.

Silence filled the courtroom and deciding that Maxwell had nothing else to say, he sat back down in his seat. He knew he’d lost. You weren’t there to help him. He had no attorney. And like Diana had warned him; the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. He was going to lose the little boy he loved so much. His only son.

Maxwell knew he was a lot of things but he was not an unfit father. He was prepared to give Alistair the world. An unfit father would be his own father. A man who spent his days drunk and abusing him and his mother. Both physical and mental torture. Max would never ever do that to Alistair. Ever. He tried so hard to be a positive, influential figure to Alistair because he never had one himself.

“I believe the jury has come to a conclusion,” Judge Wilson announced, taking a painful amount of time to open the envelope that had been handed to him. “The jury have decided that full custody of Alistair Lorenzano will be granted to Juli-”

“STOP!” You screamed, using your full force to push open the sturdy double doors that led into the courtroom.

The scene ahead was something straight out of a courtroom drama movie. Maxwell’s jaw dropped upon the sight of you and the jury gasped, muttering words of bewilderment amongst each other as you ran up to Max. And oh, you were a sight.

Maxwell didn’t know what happened, but there you were, dressed in red, blue and gold. He pinned it down to an Amazonian warrior’s outfit, for sure, because there was no way any Sears’ or Macy’s or Bloomingdales’ would sell anything like that. You were sparkling, your tiara fit perfectly on your head and your gladiator sandals tied in neat ribbons to your kneecaps. You looked like a real-life Goddess. In your element.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Maxwell gasped as you ran into his arms. You hugged him tight and he tried to hold back his cries. “Thought… you’d already gone back to Themyscira.”

The thought of you leaving Max without a proper goodbye was debilitating. He was the man who took you in, gave you a home and comfort, and showed you what real, true love was.

“I couldn’t leave without keeping my promise.” you sniffed, cupping his cheeks and offering him a small smile. You spent a moment just gazing into his chocolate brown eyes. In the past day, his eyes looked like they had aged ten years due to all the stress he was under -- but they were still the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

Gods, you loved him so much. And you wanted him to know how much you loved him. He deserved to know. But right now, you had to focus on keeping your promise. The reason you had come to the world of man in the first place was to reunite Alistair and Max, so that was exactly what you were going to do. You hadn’t constructed a plan, and you knew that would be your fatal error -- but it had to be now or never. All you could do was hope that, somehow, everything would fall into place. You cleared your throat and presented yourself in front of the judge, before introducing yourself. “I’m here to represent Maxwell Lorenzano in the custody battle for Alistair Lorenzano.”

The judge sighed, adjusting his white wig. “The case started two hours ago, ma’am. With all due respect, the jury has already reached a verdict. Unless you have any valid evidence as to why you believe Mr Lorenzano would make a worthy father, or Miss Grey an unworthy mother, there is nothing more I can do.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and it was like everything around you was in slow motion. Goose pimples pricked your arms as you looked around the courtroom at all the different faces. You were standing in front of fifty or so people, easily and they were all staring at you. Of course you knew why… you weren’t exactly dressed like a ‘typical’ citizen of the world. But you just had to suck it up because you had made a promise to Maxwell, all those days ago. You had a duty to fulfil as the Goddess of home and hearth, and you knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but in that moment you knew exactly what you had to do.

“I have evidence.” you said with a shaky exhale.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes and leaned into you. “What?” he asked, just as confused as everyone else. Julianna and Theodore exchanged a nervous glance as the jury and audience continued to murmur amongst each other.

“Trust me.” you smiled a tearful smile and you felt your lips begin to quiver with anxiety. You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing. It would be okay. It was going to be okay.

“Well, present your evidence.” Judge Wilson sighed and you nodded your head with affirmation.

Taking your lasso of truth, you began to unravel it, and showed the courtroom the way it glowed golden upon touching it. “What is that?” you heard one of the juror’s ask.

“This is the lasso of Hestia. It belonged to my mother and it’s powered by the truth. The truth and purity of the universe.” You explained, and the jury were in complete awe.

Julianna was the first one to burst into laughter. “You can’t be serious? A magical lasso? What? You got that from the costume and prop store on 2nd Street? Please. This is actually a serious case. Get outta here.” she snarled, her lips curling into a frown.

Maxwell went to snap back but you quickly stopped him before slowly padding towards Julianna and Theodore. And you smiled. “May I demonstrate?” you asked her, and Julianna gulped hesitantly. “If it’s just a prop from a costume store then… you have no reason to be afraid, do you?”

Julianna turned to Theodore who just shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. Fine.” Julianna sighed, holding out her wrists. You carefully tied them together with the lasso before trailing it across the courtroom.

“Ted, Max, Judge Wilson… feel free to hold on to the lasso,” you pulled it to where the jury was sitting and made sure that each member held a tight grip onto it. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.” you promised.

“What are you doing?” Maxwell gritted out. “I can’t let you do this. Exposing your powers in front of all these people… it’ll turn you into a mortal.”

You knew that. But it was a sacrifice you were willing to take. If this past week had taught you anything it was that love was the most beautiful thing in this universe. And that love truly does conquer all. You were able to tell Barbara that with your whole chest-- so just for once, maybe you should listen to yourself. You deserved your happy ending.

And you were never happy on Themyscira.

But here, with Maxwell and Alistair? You were happy.

You were finally happy and you wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

Taking a deep breath, you shrugged off his comment and turned around to speak to the courtroom.

“The lasso of Hestia compels you all to see the truth about Alistair Lorenzano.”

You watched intently as their eyes snapped shut and they saw the truth. They saw how neglectful Julianna and Theodore had been, and how loving Maxwell was. How Maxwell flew home from Greece just to be with his son whilst Julianna left him in the house alone. They saw the way Julianna verbally abused Alistair, and Maxwell winced as it paralleled his own childhood memories. They saw it all. They saw the truth.

But-- it was draining you. It was like you could slowly feel your powers slip out of you. You were losing your immortality, and your strength. You felt yourself become weaker by the second until eventually, it was over. They opened their eyes and looked at Maxwell in shock.

You took the lasso from each person and you whimpered slightly at how weighted it suddenly felt in your grip. Attaching it back to your tunic, you took Maxwell’s hand. “Did it work?” you asked weakly, hoping and praying that your sacrifice would change something.

Maxwell swallowed but before he could open his mouth, a juror spoke.

“The jury would like to change their verdict.” he announced, and the judge looked down at the envelope. He rubbed his teary eyes and sighed. The Judge had been… crying?

“Well, I hereby grant custody of Alistair Lorenzano to his father, Maxwell Lorenzano.” Judge Wilson declared before banging his gavel down on the desk.

Julianna screamed. Members of the audience cheered. You turned to Maxwell who’s cheeks were tearstained. “Oh my Gosh Max, we did it!” you cried, and Maxwell let himself fall limp in your arms as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“You-- you just-- I can’t believe--” He cried before pulling off you and flashing you the most precious grin. It was enough to make your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you sacrificed your powers for me and Ali--”

“Well, believe it.” you said, leaning in and pressing a soft yet passionate kiss into his lips. Max’s hands fell down to your hips as he held onto you and relished your taste. He pulled away from you and instinctively smoothed out your hair.

“I love you so much,” Maxwell admitted finally, unable to keep his true feelings to himself any longer. “I’m so in love with you.”

And now, it was your turn to cry. It was the words you had longed to hear from the moment you came to the world of man. “I love you too Maxwell Lorenzano,” you confessed, running your fingers through his golden hair. Max choked back a sob as he gazed into your eyes. “Come on,” you encouraged, rubbing the small of his back. “You have a son to get home to.” you giggled and Maxwell’s eyes lit up.

“Does this mean you don’t have to return to Themyscira?” Maxwell asked hopefully and you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you shook your head.

“No, I don’t have to return to Themyscira. I’m a mortal now, just like you”

Somehow, you thought you’d be hurting more. You just gave up your powers-- your whole life. But this… this felt perfect. Like it was meant to be. You weren’t hurting, in fact, you had never been so elated in your life.

“Well, you’ll always be a goddess to me.” Max confessed, pressing another kiss into your lips. “Come on. Let’s go get Alistair.” he grinned, tugging on your hand as you excitedly ran out of the courtroom together.

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you tell Cap the story of all the times you and Peter waited for each other. Takes place during Engame

Listen to Wait For Me from Hadestown for the inspiration behind this story

Masterlist

6 years ago

“Whats the B for?” You asked as you traced your fingers over the shiny brass clasp of Peters suitcase. It was your first time hearing of his superhero abilities, and he had pulled out his suit to confirm his identity. You had always known there was something special about Peter, something that set him apart. Him being a superhero came as no surprise to you, so you were more distracted by the monogrammed suitcase where he kept his suit.

“Benjamin. Like my uncle.” He said as he watched your face for any signs of judgement. There was the slightest whisper of a smile on your lips as you rubbed your thumb over the engraving.

“I remember him.” You nodded and looked up at Peter, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him. “Benjamin. I like that for you. It’s fitting.”

“Is it? I always thought Benjamin was an old mans name.” He laughed shyly as he scratched behind his ear.

“No. It’s cute.” You told him and he flushed. “You look like a Peter Benjamin, you know? Some people just look like their names.”

Peters mouth opened and shut a few times and he tried to think of a response. He wasn’t used to talking to you everyday, much less used to how pretty you’d gotten. 10 years apart and suddenly you were hanging out in his bedroom everyday, catching up on the part a of each other’s lives that you had missed. Your delicate features, now more defined with age but still soft, made it hard for Peter to think around you. He thought he’d never see you again after you left but here you were, folded up in his bed and running you fingers over the material of his Spiderman suit.

“I’d say the same for you, but you never told me your middle name.” He said finally, thinking back in his memory for any indication of what it was. “It begins with an E right?”

You smiled softly at him, appreciating his keen memory.

“Eurydice.” You told him and he tilted his head.

“What?” He asked, not realizing that was the name.

“It’s Eurydice.” You repeated. “It’s from greek mythology. It was my mother’s favorite story growing up.”

“What’s the story?” Peter set the suitcase on the ground and scored closer to you to give you his full attention.

“You really wanna know?” You tested him, still able to tell when he was lying.

“With all my heart.” He said as he crossed his heart with his fingers. You rolled your eyes at him, not having seen that movement since you were litter.

“Okay. There are a few different versions, but this one is my favorite.” You began. “A long time ago, there was a poor woman called Eurydice and she was married to a musician named Orpheus. Eurydice knew they were gonna starve if they didn’t make some money and buy food, but all Orpheus wanted to do was make music. She ended up selling her soul to Hades-“

“Wait, you were named after a devil worshipper?” Peter cut you off with a laugh.

“No.” You shoved him playfully. “Hades is the god of the Underworld. He’s not the devil.“

“Okay. Go on.” He urged you, leaning his chin on his hands, unintentionally squishing his cheeks.

“So Eurydice sells her soul and gets sent to the Underworld. When Orpheus finds out, he goes on this long, dangerous journey to the Underworld to find her. He gets there and plays his music for Hades, the song he’s been working on instead of getting food. Hades was so moved by his music that made a deal with him: if he can walk out of the Underworld with Eurydice following behind him, they can both go free.” You went on, smiling at Peters squished face.

“Sounds easy enough.” He shrugged.

“It wasn’t.” You held up a finger. “There was a catch. Orpheus was never allowed to look back and make sure Eurydice was still behind him. He just had to trust that she was. He wasn’t allowed to look at her until they were both out.”

“So what happened?” Peter leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.

“They walk the long, scary way back to earth, guided only by a lantern. Orpheus goes the whole way and never looks at her. But right as he’s about to make it out-“ ,You paused for effect and Peter whined in anticipation, “-he caves. He looks at her and she’s sent straight back.”

“He couldn’t do it? He couldn’t take that last step?” Peter exclaimed, frustrated with the ending.

“He couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You sided with Orpheus to defend him.

“But he was so close!” Peter whined, getting worked up over a fictional story.

“I know. That’s what makes the story as beautifully tragic as it is.” You told him.

“Orpheus was an idiot. You’re lucky she named you after Eurydice instead.” Peter grumbled and you laughed easily.

“He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the world for how it could be, in spite of the way that is was. He just couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You said softly, still taking Orpheus’s defense.

“I bet I could do it. I could’ve gotten us both out.” Peter said definitively after a beat of silence.

“Oh, yeah? You think you could be patient and trust your girl?” You challenged him.

“If I truly loved her, yes. I’d wait forever if I had too.” Peter said confidently. “Wouldn’t you?”

You thought about it for a moment, not blind to the irony of his question. You looked Peter deep in his warm brown eyes, the eyes of your best friend since you were little, and nodded.

“Yeah. I think I would.” You said softly.

1 month ago

“What about you? You haven’t move on?” A member of Cap’s support group sounded from beside you, tearing you away from the memory. You blinked as you came back to reality and saw the faces of the rest of the members looking at you expectantly, including Cap.

“Sorry?” You asked, not having heard the question when you were lost in your daydream.

“You mentioned in the first meeting that you lost your boyfriend in the Blip.” The member, a man who lost his wife and daughter, repeated. “Have you moved on from him yet?”

“No.” You said, sitting up and fixing your shirt. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why is that after five years of him being gone? You’re the only one in the group who hasn’t moved on.” He asked. He wasn’t being reproachful, just curious. You and Cap were the leaders of the group and watched each week as the members slowly got their lives back to normal after losing their significant other in the Blip. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were the only one who hadn’t moved on.

“Because I’ve already met the love of my life.” You said confidently. “I know it’s been 5 years. But I have already met the man I’m supposed to be with. Now I just have to wait for him to come come. He waited for me, and now I’m waiting for him.”

“He might not come for a long time, if he ever does.” A woman in the group spoke up. She wasn’t trying to be harsh, just realistic. You gave her a tight smile and nodded.

“I know.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll wait forever if I have too.”

The meeting ended shortly after a few more members told their stories. It was nearing the anniversary of the Blip, and everyone was on edge. You were quiet as you and Cap stacked the chairs up, obviously to his stare.

“What did you mean back there when you said he waited for you?” Steve asked gently as he pushed a row of chairs against the wall. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how long it had gotten, and leaned against the row.

“It’s kinda a long story.” You told him. He took two chairs off the stack and set them down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I have time.” He remarked as he took a seat. You laughed lightly as his action and sat down, picking nervously at your nail polish.

“I met Peter when we were 3, and we were best friends almost instantly.” You began. “We learned how to ride bikes together, started school together, basically made all our foundational memories together.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, urging you to go on.

“My dad did a lot of business in California when I was little and when he got promoted, he decided to move there. My parents didn’t tell me about the move until the day we were leaving. I was crying my eyes out in the taxi when we passed Peter’s apartment building.” You said, looking up at Steve to see his reaction. He was looking at you intently, having never heard you tell the story before. “I pressed my hands against the window of the taxi and stared at his building, totally heartbroken, until an idea came to me. Mind you, I was 7 at the time and had a love of action movies.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled coyly, knowing what was coming.

“I did.” You chuckled. “I jumped out of the moving car and just booked it. I didn’t stop running until I got to his door.”

15 years ago

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he opened his door to you. You had done your secret knock so he knew it was you.

“I have to go, Peter. I’m moving. My daddy got a new job.” You panted, out of breath from running. Peters eyes widened, hearing the world possible news of his short life.

“Moving? Where?” He asked, suddenly aware of your red eyes and running nose, all signs that you had been crying.

“California.” You told him.

“Like with the movie stars?” He asked, childlike excitement replacing the pain.

“Yeah. That’s what my daddy said.” You nodded, remembering what your dad had told you to keep you from crying. You had to leave your best friend, but you’d be with the movie stars.

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, picking at the paint on his door.

“Today.” You finally caught your breath. “We’re going to the airport right now.”

“But…but I won’t get to see you if you’re in California.” Peter mumbled, starting to get emotional.

“I know. I don’t want to go, Peter.” You shook your head, beginning to cry again.

“Then don’t go.” Peter protested. “You can stay here with me. Aunt May and Uncle Ben won’t mind.“

“Okay. Okay, and then we can stay together.” You agreed, liking his plan.

“Y/n?” Are you up here?” You suddenly heard your mothers voice and your eyes widened, as well as Peters.

“Get inside.” Peter pulled you in his apartment and slammed the door behind you, reaching up on his tippy toes to lock the door. You both panted from the quick move, the sound of the phone ringing get drowned out by your heavy breathing.

“I don’t want to leave you, Peter. You’re my best friend.” You cried, bunching the end of your dress in your fists.

“You’re my best friend too.” Peter hiccuped as he cried. You wiped your cheek on the back of your hand and used the bottom of your dress to wipe his face too. He smiled at you, giving you that warm feeling he always did.

“Please don’t fall in love with anybody else.” You blurted. “Wait for me to come back.”

“What?” Peter hiccuped again.

“I’m gonna grow up and I’m gonna make my own money and I’m gonna find my way back to you. Or, or I’ll run away and get on an airplane.” You plotted as Peter nodded along. “I’m gonna come back for you, Peter. I will, I promise I will. You just need to wait until I get back so we can get married.”

“Peter? Is Y/n here?” Mays voice called from the kitchen, making you both jump. You hugged each other and backed away as May came into the room.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, fully in hysterics now.

“Y/n, sweetie, your mom is on the phone. She said you ran away from the taxi.” May said gently as she bent down to talk to you. She noticed your scrapped knee, bleeding now, but you didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m not going. I’m not leaving Peter.” You stated, clinging to him tighter.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asked when he heard the noise. He saw his recently orphaned nephew clutching his best friend and immediately understood.

“I can’t go to California. I won’t! I won’t leave Peter.” You cried, gripping the back of Peters overalls for supports.

“Aw, honey.” May sighed in sympathy as she out a hand over her heart at the sight of the terrified children. “It’s okay. You and Peter can write each other letters and video chat. You’ll still be able to see each other.”

“No! She has to move in with us.” Peter shot down Mays idea. Her heart broke for her nephew, already having witnessed him lose so much. The flowers from his parents were still on the table. She couldn’t bear to see him lose his best friend too.

“She can’t Peter. She has to be with her own mommy and daddy.” May tried to reason with him.

“Why? I’m not with mine.” Peter protested, making May tear up. Before she could respond, your mother knocked on the door.

“May? Ben? Is Y/n with you?” Your mother asked through the door. You and Peter began to tremble as you clung to each other.

“No!” You screamed, cowering into the crook of Peters neck.

“Ben, can you settle them down?” May asked as she went to open the door. You and Peter tried to run but Ben caught you.

“Now listen you two, if you really love each other and I know you do, you’ll find your way back.” Ben said prophetically, making you and Peter release your grip a little. “I met your Aunt May once when I was 7, and again when I was 17. I believe in you two. I believe you’ll be reunited one day. But for right now, Y/n has to say goodbye.”

You slowly let go of Peter and turned to face him, tears streaming down your young face.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mumbled, dry heaving from how upset you were. Your mother and May exchanged glances, not being able to watch their children say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the tightest hug he could.

“Wait for me?” You whispered in his ear.

“I will.” He whispered back.

“Promise?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Promise.” Peter said as he crossed his heart. You did the same before your mother took your hand. You cried as she dragged you out of the apartment, looking back and reaching for Peter the entire way. You broke free from her for a moment and ran to Peter, kissing him on the lips like you’d seen the movies stars do. His eyes were wide open the entire time, but he liked it. Your mother scooped you up, said goodbye to May and Ben, and left the apartment. May and Ben stared at Peter as he touched his lips, still feeling your kiss. He sniffled, trying not to cry again as he watched his best friend leave him for the next ten years.

1 month ago.

“So, yeah. That was the first time he and I were separated. I don’t know which time was worse. They both killed me, just with different weapons. At least when we were 7, I was able to say goodbye.” You shrugged it off as you finished telling Steve your story. He stared at you in awe as you kept your composure. He had listened to a hundred songs stories about losing a loved one, but none of them had moved him like that did.

“How did you guys reconnect? Did you actually run away?” Steve asked, fully invested in the story now. You chuckled softly as his keen memory.

“No. I tried to but I never got very far.” You told him. “I ended up moving back to New York for college. My friend and I rented an apartment instead of living on campus.”

6 years ago.

“Shoot. I’ll meet you up there. I forgot a bag in the lobby.” Your roommate sighed when she realized she was missing her carry on.

“Okay. Text me when you get it.” You told her. Instead of getting on the elevator, you decided to stretch your legs and take the stairs. You had lugged your suitcase up a long flight and were about to round the corner when you smacked into someone. You almost went flying down the stairs, but something grabbed your shirt, something you’d later find out was a web, and sent you in the other direction. You collided with the stranger, feeling their firm grasp around your waist to keep you from falling back. You both panted as you caught your breath, feeling the strangers breath fam your face.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking and-Y/n?” The man asked. You blinked a few times as you stared at his face until you realized you knew those brown eyes.

“Oh my God, Peter?” You whispered as your eyes scanned his face, memorizing every new line and crease. His eyes were just as wide as yours, studying your features right back. An unfamiliar feeling filled your tummy as you stared at your childhood best friend, now fully grown. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling, so you let go of your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter hugged you back immediately, taking in your scent. You were wearing perfume, something you hadn’t done when you were seven, but his super scent allowed him to smell your usual smell underneath it. Hugging you now felt different than it had when you were younger. His arms were wrapped around your hips, something you definitely didn’t have before. Your forever messy hair was longer and neat for once, as he was always used to seeing it in two braids. He could’ve cried holding you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. You pulled away and cupped his cheeks, smiling at what you saw.

“You look exactly the same.” You let out a breathy laugh. He did. He still had the boyish features you loved. The only difference now was he was taller and incredibly fit.

“Is that a good thing?” He chuckled, pleased to see your smile was just as he remembered.

“It’s the best thing.” You nodded, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you never grew into your ears.”

“And you! You finally learned to brush your hair.” He dished it right back and you realized how much you missed his sense of humor, even better now with age.

“Shut up.” You scrunched your nose and smoothed your hand down with your hair. “What are you doing here? Did you move?”

“You remember my old place?” He raised his eyebrows, suddenly aware that his was still holding on to you. It didn’t seem to bother you, so he didn’t move.

“Uhh, Lee Towers apartment building, room 4D with the little flower sign under the peephole.” You recited, the view of his apartment door forever engraved in your no memory. The door always looked so big when you went from your height. “How could I forget? I practically lived there.”

“I know you did.” Peter smiled brightly at the memory of all your days spent in his apartment, the apartment he said goodbye too once Ben died. “May and I moved here a few months after high school started for a fresh start.”

“And I just moved here for college.” You said, mostly to yourself as the wheels in your Brian turned. You looked at Peter fondly and a smile tugged at your lips. “Your Uncle was right.”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows as you his face flushed from your close proximity.

“We found our way back to each other.” You said softly, your breath ticking his face.

“Yeah. I guess we did.” He bit back a smile, still reeling that he had you back in his arms after 10 years.

“Come on. You can tell me everything that’s happened for the past ten years while you help me unpack.” You grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his arm with the other. “But first, I gotta see May.”

1 month ago

“We talked the entire day. The sun started coming up and I was still telling him stories.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered the reunion. “We bounced back so easily, I felt like I had never left.”

“When two people are that right for each other, time has no effect. I speak from experience.” Steve smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I know you do, lover boy.” You teased him. “I’ve seen your lady. She’s absolutely gorgeous.” You commented, having seen the photo of Peggy he kept on him more than a few times.

“She was.” He agreed. “And I found her just as pretty as an old broad as I did when we first met. Time meant nothing to me.”

“See? Sometimes, moving on is the wrong way to go. Some people are worth waiting for.” You decided, happy to have someone who agreed with you.

“So what happened next? Did you guys fall in love right away?” Steve asked, curious in the ending.

“No. It took about 3 months for us to finally bring up that conversation from before I left. We focused on rebuilding our friendship first.” You explained.

“I tell ya, I haven’t been this invested in a story since my presumedly dead best friend from the war showed up with a metal arm and a bloodlust.” Steve chuckled. “Keep going. How did you get together?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you.” You chuckled easily. “He and I had just got home from a college party. There was drinking, but Peter and I stayed away from that. A boy in our biology class, however, did not. He was flirting with me a little too much for Peters liking. I didn’t flirt back, but that didn’t matter to Peter. Another boy was after me and he got upset.”

5 years ago

“Whew. I don’t know about you, but think I’ve hit my party limit for the next month.” You blew out a breath as you kicked your heels off into the corner of Peters rooms

“No, me too.” Peter agreed, admiring the way you looked in your party dress one last time before you changed out of it. You shut the door to his bathroom but left it slightly ajar as you changed behind it. Peter made sure not to look, happy that you couldn’t see the flush on his face. You emerged from the bathroom in a hoodie and sleep shorts, taking a seat on Peters bed.

“You’re quiet.” You poked him, tilted your head to meet his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and took your feet into his lap to rub them, knowing they were aching from your high heels. “Did you uh, get Brads number?”

“He told me his number but there were letters and some movie titles in it, so I’d say no.” You laughed, wincing a little when he touched a sore spot.

“He was all over you.” Peter grumbled, moving your feet next to his lap so he could trace small patterns on your leg.

“He was also drunk on 5 Black Cherry White Claws and wearing his belt on his head.” You reminded him in an attempt to cheer him up. He was clearly upset over something, you could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at you.

“He’s on the soccer team.” Peter brought up and you looked at him strangely. “I heard he gets good grade too.”

“Are you trying to set us up or something?” You laughed him off as you pulled your knees up to your chest to lean your chin on them.

“No. No, I just…” ,he sighed, “do you like him? In that way, I mean?”

“Peter, I don’t even know him.” You dismissed the idea. “Plus, he made a total fool of himself tonight. He threw any chance he had with me away the second he opened his mouth to show me his Viking impression.”

“Do you like anyone else, then?” He asked with a shrug, slowly looking up at you.

“Why are you asking me this?” You asked him curiously. You never talked about things like this together, lest it lead to a conversation neither of you were ready for.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” Peter admitted, looking down at his hands nervously. “Do…do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before you left, I mean.”

“When I asked you to wait for me?” You laughed softly, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah, that.” He gulped.

“Of course I do.” You shrugged like to were not big deal, even though it was the biggest deal to Peter. “To this day, that’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done. Kissing you and then running away? I pulled a real Cinderella on you that night.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Peter defended, slightly offended that you were taking the situation as lightly as you were.

“It was stupid. We were kids and we had no idea when we were gonna see each other again. At the time, I had no idea how unrealistic I was being, or how much I was asking of you. Didn’t I propose to you or something?” You cringed at the memory. Peter stared at you in shock, angry that you were making fun of one of the most momentous moments of his childhood.

“I didn’t think you were asking for that much.” He said assertively. “Nothing I wasn’t planning on doing anyway.”

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked, finally noticing how upset he was.

“Waiting for my best friend to come back so I could be with her.” Peter said, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to compose himself. “Marry her, even.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let up. Your smile faded when you realized he was serious.

“Why are you making this a joke?” Peter asked bitterly. “Do you know how hard that day was for me?”

“Do I know how hard it was?” You repeated in shock. “Peter, I had to leave my home and get on a plane to live in an entirely new state that I had never been to before, all with no warning. My mother had to rip me out of your grasp while I kicked and screamed. I know exactly how hard that day was.”

You turned away from Peter and folded your arms, glaring at his wall while hot tears streamed down your face. You had been trying to avoid this conversation in fear of how it would go. Fear he didn’t wait after all when you had turned down every boy who approached you in the past ten years because they didn’t amount to Peter. The fears were feeling very real in the moment and it overwhelmed you.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked quietly. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw that he was crying too.

“Something inside me just told me I had to.” You shrugged slightly. “I had to give you something to make sure you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” Peter said assuredly. “You don’t forget your first love.”

“I guess you don’t, do you?” You smiled softly and wiped your tears on your hoodie sleeve. “I loved you before I knew the meaning of the word. But I didn’t really need the meaning, looking back. The feeling was enough. Feelings for you.” You looked at him shyly. “Feelings that told me I needed to kiss you before I lost the chance. I guess that’s what happens when you’re 7 and in love with your best friend.”

“Well, I’m 18 and in love with my best friend. What happens then?” Peter declared, tired of beating around the bush. You turned to him and tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Peter, what?” You whispered.

“That kiss you gave me was my first kiss.” He admitted.

“Mine too.” You said simply.

“It was also my last kiss.” He continued. You opened your mouth and shut it, taking on the weight of what he was saying.

“Mine too.” You breathed. You and Peter stared at each other, looking at the face of the best friend you’d fallen in love with, the one you’d always been in love with. You swallowed as you prepared to ask Peter the answer to a question you asked him when you were 7. “Did you-“

Peter cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his hands. You put your hand on the back of his neck and kissed him back, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as all your fears dissipated. Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” He mumbled against your lips. “I waited.”

1 month ago

“That’s how it started. We were only together about 9 months before he disappeared.” You told Steve. “You know, I still go home every night and hope he knocks on my door. I always expect him to burst through the door, his flannel flowing behind him like a cape and just pick me up and kiss me. He’d thank me for waiting and I’d tell him it was nothing, that I was happy to do it, because he was worth it.”

“You know, I used to think you were stubborn. But I get it now.” Steve looked at you fondly. “That’s a love worth waiting your entire life for. What I don’t understand is how you sat in that chair for 5 years and never told us that story. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s ours, and it’s all I have left of him.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t want to share it and make people sad, because it’s not a sad story. To me, it’s the greatest love story of all time.”

“We’re gonna get them back. One way or another, we’re gonna fix this. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you guys.” Steve said definitively.

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because I don’t want your story to end like that. You’re 23. I can’t sit back and watch you sit on the bench for the rest of your life, waiting for somebody to come home. I’m gonna bring him home. All of them.” Steve declared.

“How?” You asked. It had been 5 years already and no progress was made to get them back.

“I have a friend I need to talk to. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out. You looked him up and down before smirking and taking his hand.

Present Day

Since you helped bring the Avengers together to set the Time Heist in motion, Tony decided it was only fair to let you help out in the final battle with Thanos. He leant you an Iron suit that you were currently using against a slew of space dogs. The more you fought off, the more came to attack you. It didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest knowing that Peter was somewhere on the battle field. You didn’t know how long you had been fighting, but your arms ached with every movement. You sucked in a sharp breath as a space dog lunged at your uncovered face.

You were about to cover your face when you felt something attach to your suit from the back. Before you could react, you felt a tug and flew through the air. You landed in somebody’s arms and saw the battlefield upside down as they dipped you, just like in the movies. They brought you back up and you were suddenly face to face with Peter Parker.

“Is my damsel in distress?” His Queens accent filled your ears as your eyes fell on his smirk.

“Peter?” You said breathlessly, eyes filling with tears at the sight of your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years.

“I think so, unless my dust particles reconfigured into Zooey Dechannel.” Peter said sarcastically, making you erupt in laughter as the tears fell down your face.

“Peter!” You squealed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His new metal suit made it different, so you restarted to running your hands through his hair, trying to touch any part of his skin that you could reach. In the distance, Steve saw the two of you embracing and smiled to himself.

“Hi.” He laughed in your ear, appreciating all the affection. In his mind, he had seen you just a few hours ago. He didn’t register how much this meant to you. You buried your face in his neck and took in his scent.

“You smell like a new car.” You laughed in happy surprise, looking him up and down to take in his appearance. He looked exactly as you remembered, every freckle and hair in the same place.

“It’s the suit. Mr. Stark made it for me.” Peter said excitedly.

“Its beautiful.” You breathed, not taking your eyes off his face.

“Thank you! I haven’t actually seen it yet but it feels really cool.” Peter said as he looked at his hands. He was obviously to the moonstruck look you were giving him, just happy to be near him. “Mr. Stark got really mad at me because I snuck on the spaceship after he specifically told me not to sneak on the spaceship but it was a good thing because I helped get rid of the bad guys using the technique we saw in Alien.”

“Wow.” You nodded, just happy to be hearing his voice again.

“And the bad guy was like this half squid, half person who spoke with a British accent even though he’s from space.” Peter went on, childlike excitement filling in the brown eyes you’d been missing for the past 5 years. “Y/n, I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I’m pretty sure there’s a second Britain in space that we don’t know about.”

“Really?” You humored him, tears of happiness still rolling down your face.

“It was so cool, Y/n. Until I died, anyway.” He laughed. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

“I wish that too.” You cried. “I’ve really missed you, Peter.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled brightly. Your lip began to tremble at how I overwhelmed you were and Peters protective boyfriend instincts took over.

“Hey.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up. “Listen, I know it’s been five years for you and I’m a fool to even ask. But, by any chance, did you-“

You put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours after all those years triggered a waterfall of tears to flow. You wrapped both arms around his neck as he held your waist firmly against his, kissing you as hard as he could. You sobbed into the kiss before pulling away, peppering kisses all around his mouth and jaw.

“Yes.” You smiled as he wiped away your tears. “I waited.”

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #marvel #spiderman #spiderman far from home #avengers endgame #tom holland blurb

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joyfulsongbird · 3 years

Text

Bruises And All- Chapter 8

I've moved a couple things around so that I don't have to commit to decisions in the story I'm anxious about quite yet. enjoy this chapter!! after months of silence!!

here's a link to chapter 7!

ao3 link to chapter 8!

***

ORPHEUS knows he’s naive.

Knows he doesn’t have a perfect understanding of what the world is really like. He’s been told enough times. Mister Hermes says he’s different, says he’s special. That doesn’t feel right. He’s not any more special than anybody else, than Persephone, or Hermes himself, even Hades. He’s just a boy. Not much else matters, as long as they’re good. Good people aren’t special, they’re just people. They look like anybody else.

“Eurydice?” he catches her hand when she’s passing by the bar after lunch, she’d disappeared for awhile, he doesn’t know where to. But he doesn’t stop her because of that, he stops her because she looks upset. Her eyes are ringed with pink, like she’s been crying recently. He doesn’t like that, he doesn’t want her to cry. He just wants her to be happy, to stay.

“Are you okay?”

She slips her hand out of his, smiling softly. “Perfectly fine. Thank you.”

In the moment between her saying that and her stepping to leave, he follows her eye line, confused at minuscule pause. And even more confused to find that she, though very briefly, catches Hades’ eye. He’s frowning, deeper than usual, and dipping a mug of what looks like black coffee.

She’s turning to go before he says her name again. “Eurydice.”

Her eyelashes are so long. And they’re wet.

“Did- did Hades say something to you?”

She’s quick to reply, quirking her lips into a smile. “No. No, he didn’t. Don’t worry.”

“But he-”

“Nothing happened. Okay?” her expression turns stern, as do her words.

“Um- okay.” he starts to turn away first this time, hurt bubbling in his chest that he doesn’t want to show on his face.

“Hey. Hey, Orpheus.” she reaches for his hand first this time, taking it in both of hers. “I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m tired. I’m stressed and tired. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Why are you so stressed?” he asks, still relishing in the way she hasn’t let go of his hand yet, and doesn’t seem to want to.

“No specific reason, really.” even he can tell she’s lying. “Just about the future.”

“The future?”

“Like I said, nothing specific. Just… a lot of thoughts.”

“Well that’s gotta be tough.” he aims for lightness but it falls flat, she just smiles weakly at him, dropping his hands and walking towards the bookshelf against the wall. When the bar is open, they always pride themselves on having other things for people to occupy themselves with besides getting drunk. Books on history fill the walls, some fiction mixed in, but mostly old school books Orpheus read after he’d dropped out of school and the occasional folk story Mister Hermes had collected over the years. He liked to do that, to listen to people’s stories and write them down. Keep them as reminders of the past. He claimed he didn’t really read them after he’d first written them down but sometimes, Orpheus saw him leaned up against the wall, holding a book in his hands and his eyes skimming down each page hungrily. He loved those stories, though he didn’t want to admit it.

She picks out a thick book from the wall, holding it gingerly. Orpheus tries not to look like he’s staring at her, he’s really trying not to, but the way she moves just constantly draws his eye. Gracefully, she floats about, but with a heavy air to her. Like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders but she has learnt to bear it so skillfully. So beautifully.

“When do you think the storm will let up, Hermes?” Persephone calls from her table where she sits, playing solitaire by herself.

“Shouldn’t be more than a day, by now. Hurricanes like these leave a lot of damage but never last too long.” he says, as he dusts off a couple glasses. Orpheus isn’t watching Hermes or even Persephone, his had been on Eurydice even before Persephone had started speaking but her reaction to Hermes’ answer makes him frown. She briefly clenches her fist over the sides of the book and glances up, eyes scanning across the bar, stopping once more on… Hades.

Orpheus may be a little naive, sure, but he can figure out when something strange is going on.

He can’t bring it up though, until almost that night, when he finally gets a moment alone with Eurydice. When they’re cleaning up after dinner, put in charge of washing and putting away the dishes. The three others are scattered upstairs and downstairs, Hades and Persephone turning in for the night upstairs in bed. And Hermes is downstairs tending to the furnace.

As she cranes her neck over the sink, reaching for the sponge that she had dropped, she pauses.

“What is it, Orpheus?”

“W-what?”

“You’ve been acting weird all afternoon, what is it?” she straightens up, her jaw set tightly, her arms up to the elbows are covered in suds and soap and it only looks a little ridiculous to see her stony expression and then take in the rest of her.

“You keep- every time anyone seems to say something about the storm ending or anything like that, you look at Hades. Why?”

She freezes, everything in her body turning taut for only a moment before it all releases but for a moment, there was genuine panic in her eyes. Fear like he hadn’t seen before. Like an animal looking for an escape route, a fear he can barely even comprehend.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not.”

“We just had a conversation, it’s fine. I’m handling it.” She turns back to wash the dishes some more but Orpheus catches her wrist, not hard, gently so she could pull away if wanted to. And she does, after a moment or two, but doesn’t continue with washing the dishes, she just stands there, head bowed slightly.

“Does he want you to leave?” Orpheus asks, outright.

She swallows slowly. “No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“Eurydice-”

“For gods’ sake, Orpheus, can you just leave it alone? I’m not going to bear every inch of my soul to you.” he steps back at the harshness in her voice, how… angry she sounds. Pain ripples through his chest and he steps back, leaning against the back counter of the bar. Things go on in utter silence for a while, Eurydice washes the dishes and places them on the rack. He’s supposed to be drying them but he’s afraid she doesn’t want him close right now. They’d have to be standing almost hip to hip for it to work well and she’s already so skittish… and angry… he doesn’t want to upset her anymore.

After too long, she turns off the faucet, and braces herself against the sides of the sink. Her exhale is loud enough for him to hear, before she turns around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” she says quietly. “I feel as if I’ve been so terrible to you today. And I really am… so sorry, Orpheus. I don’t mean to lash out. There’s no excuse, really, I just don’t know how to cope, it’s ridiculous. One thing starts upsetting me and it’s like I have to burn all of my bridges and hurt everyone around me.”

He stays silent, what can he say to that? What can he say to console her? To tell her that he’d never, ever blame her for her past bleeding into the present? Tell her that he’d forgive her a thousand times over?

She wipes her nose with her sopping wet hand, which does nothing to help. “I told you I wasn’t very nice.”

He doesn’t want to cry in front of her, though it’s an inevitable end, but when she lets her eyes rise to the ceiling and her arms come around her torso, trying to soothe herself. He can’t help it.

“Can I hug you?” his mouth comes out strained and like he’s on the verge of tears (because he is). Her eyes snap to him suddenly, her mouth forming a perfect O in surprise before she nods once, stepping forwards.

She’s warm. And much smaller than he thought. It takes a few moments before she relaxes into his embrace befores she stands on tip toes to bury her face into his shoulder. He sniffles, trying not to pay attention to the way she wraps her arms so tightly around his neck, like she never wants to let go. The way he holds her around her midsection, he doesn’t want this moment to end. Where they’re both just teary-eyed, affection starved kids who need a damn hug. Instead of a… whatever they are now. Something worse. Something far more complicated.

When she pulls away, she’s smiling. Her thumb brushes a tear from under his eye, he wants to replay that moment of tenderness a hundred times.

“You’re so nice, ‘rydice.” he murmurs. “I really like you.”

“I know.” she whispers back.

“I can’t force you to stay, I can’t ask you to give me an answer, but… I don’t want you to go.” it’s the truth. It’s one of the most truthful statements he thinks he’s ever said. Nothing he has said before this moment has ever been more true.

She nods, unable to speak even a word. He does not ask again, doesn’t ask about the side glances between her and Hades, doesn’t ask why she’s crying over this simple confession. Doesn’t even ask why she’s so on edge all the time, when she’s safe here with them. He wants to tell her she is safe but he has a feeling she wouldn’t believe him.

She places a hand on his cheek, his eyes follow that slender arm down to her shoulder, where once again, he sees those prominent bruises. He tries, he really does, to tear his eyes away from her pain. It doesn’t last more than a few moments, before Eurydice lets her hands drop away from him.

“Come on, we’ve gotta finish up.” she says and he nods silently, moving to pick the rag up off of the counter and begins drying the dishes. After a long, painful silence, in his peripheral vision, he sees her jump up to sit on the counter, not too far away from him. Just swinging legs back and forth, looking awfully young.

“Thank you, by the way,” she says finally.

“For what?”

“For being kind. For making me feel… safe.”

He can’t help the smile that creeps up onto his face, he hums quietly under his breath. “I’m really glad you feel safe.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. He wonders what she looks like when it does.

#god. I'm really posting another chapter after giving up for months #I cannot promise this au will ever finish #but god dammit if im not trying #my one thing left from the hadestown fandom #hadestown #hadestown fanfic #orpheus #eurydice #orphydice #bruises and all #orphydice fic

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druid-for-hire · 4 years

Photo

new hadestown au: BIKER ! EURYDICE, in which she’s a rogue lone-wolf biker dwelling in the urban jungle of a Neo Tokyo-type city called Hadestown, wracked with biker gangs, violence, poverty, corruption, and civil unrest, still recovering and rebuilding from an apocalyptic event many years ago. Heavy-handed with the AKIRA inspirations here, haha.

She fights for herself on the dangerous streets, an illegal racer with a consistent top-three placement and a reputation for ferocity that earns her the money she needs to scrape by. And then she meets Orpheus: a dopey bartender who has no place being in her business.

okay okay okay i’m gonna be jumping around a lot here. be warned. thanks @supercantaloupe, @regzillas, @birdmanlyss for your contributions! (sorry if i missed someone it’s been a while)

she's a lone wolf in a city infested with biker gangs and it's brutal

she's run over plenty of limbs in her day

then there's orpheus, this gentle, kind-hearted soul, an indie musician and shes like. fuck. now i gotta keep this bastard safe

puts a long pipe with a mess of bolts and metal on the end in his hands and tells him he'd better buckle up and learn to fight the road

this sort of thing is common among biker gangs to cause destruction and knock people off their bikes onto the road. other types include mallets, hammers, baseball bats, etc

shes small but knows a lot of self defense and is very good at handling herself on the road

besides teaching orpheus to steel himself and yes use that pipe on people, push them off and jam it in their wheels and let it break if it does, she's gotta teach him to hold on while she pulls all this crazy shit on her bike

she avoids taking him on the road because having to fight people gives him so much stress but he also stresses about her so it's all weird

the first time orpheus sees her run over someones arm hes like ""???????????????????!!!!!!!!"

"Don't worry it doesn't happen often" "WHAT IS 'OFTEN'"

she has a red songbird on her helmet and flowers on her jacket

and flowers painted on her bike too probably

or patterns like on the album cover

orpheus thinks it’s the prettiest shit he’s ever seen

so eurydice races, right? everyones like “who is this tiny little upstart” and then she takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair and everyone loses it

somethingsomething ig hades (who is something of a crime boss here, similar to Tombstone from the Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon, but not so unambiguously villainous in nature) becomes a contractor and he catches her in like, a bad contract that's hard to get out of without some kind of consequence

and now orpheus has to topple a capitalist again

anyway she like, meets orpheus in this little bar he works at

it's about lower middle class, so it's not too bad but it's still mostly populated by like, poorer people and bikers, etc.

they meet and it's cool and fun blah blah Come Home With Me shit

also this is a scene:

biker!eury: we gotta cross through downtown orpheus: what???? but there's a riot going on there! right now! eury: that's too bad, it's the fastest way! that's why you get this! (tosses him her pipe weapon) orpheus, barely catching it: sajskhsfdfs ???? eury: and i am gonna take this. (kicks open a trunk and takes out a rifle) orpheus: ???????!!!!???!?? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT AND DO WE REALLY NEED IT eury: Yes we do now come on orpheus: H-HOW did you get it eury: (loads gun) no worries orpheus: No i have many worries HOW DID YOU--

actually, on this emergency ride, orpheus proves surprisingly competent with her pole weapon—ruthless even, and eurydice wonders just where and how the hell he learned that

the conversation she has with him about that is the same one where he shows her his old, old scars

(besides ruthless—orph has apparently learned how to pose and intimidate. he does stuff like putting the tip of the pole-pipe to the asphalt as they’re riding, skipping on the road and creating sparks)

eurydice loves her bike more than certain relatives

certain complications lead to it being destroyed by hades as punishment for doing him wrong. and it destroys her. that is her most trusted sacred bike, that thing has been with her since she was a teenager

once she repurposes that devastation into white-hot anger orph has to physically restrain her from hunting hades down and breaking his kneecaps with a thick lead pipe

he's never seen her this absolutely devastated and furious

he goes to persephone for more work because he wants to buy eurydice a new bike

he keeps it a secret from her until he leads her out to a garage, hands over her eyes

(some of these bits are copypasted from my friend @regzillas)

orpheus takes his hands off and says Tada!!! it's just like the old one, there's no painted birds but she can do that. She just stands there in total silence mouth open, and orpheus goes 'so? do you like it?' before she bursts into tears. and at first orpheus is like :O!!!!! oh no!!! do you not like it? and eurydice through sobs just says 'nobody's ever done something like this for me’

it's... beautiful, it's touching, it's deep and it's love and she's so in love and she loves him so much, and she cries and holds him close and takes him in and she's so overwhelmed by her emotions, full of the care that orpheus so freely gives to her; and it's a breath of newness, fresh air in the cycle of dread and bitter anger that haunts the city (but she's still going to find hades and shoot him in the foot)

he just holds her and kisses her head

they spend the day painting it, the day after he buys the bike

hand-painted. and they both leave their handprints in paint on it, like carl and ellie do on their mailbox in the beginning of Up

a significant amount of time is spent thinking of a good name

theres lots of joking and eurydice playfully shoves orpheus and he falls over into paint

okay i wrote something like. Obnoxiously long for orpheus. i sort of have his backstory in this down, but i don’t have anything for eurydice unfortunately :( suggestions are welcome! but first: Hermes

biker!au hermes owns a chain of bars, several of which find their patronage among the ruffian youth, several of which are more refined and serve the middle class, and another several of which serve the upper crust hermes has a hand in every world and it serves him pretty well, and his chain is a bit of a channel of communication and its unspoken rule that whatever socioeconomic class or gang or organization you're a part of, hermes' chain is neutral territory no fighting allowed

eurydice walks in and hermes just gives her a Look and taps the 'no fighting' sign and she huffs

hes >:( if anyone does try to start shit. the honor system is strong enough that usually the other patrons will just throw them out, and if there are really problems, they'll hear from hermes personally

he maintains a very strict "no bitching in my fucking kitchen" atmosphere

and now, Orpheus

this really is kind of akira but without the government conspiracies; the city is a neon corrupt hellscape that’s still struggling to rebuild after an apocalyptic event that wiped it all through. the city is wracked with frustration and violence and anger, there are still urban ruins everywhere and the scars of rebuilding and struggle are plain in every corner of life; plain to see are the shells of ruined buildings, gigantic boats levelled from the sea and left in the middle of inland sectors.

orpheus was abandoned by his mother at an early age—kind and timid, he had to learn fast how to be suspicious and cautious in cruel ways. he couldn’t land himself a spot in any of the groups that other ragtag raging folks had eked out for themselves, still too hesitant or ungraceful or young for any of them. sure, he made friends, sitting and talking with lots of people, but never got to really team up—all he could do was just fight for himself in the blown out corners of the city. weapons made from whatever he had. a young child already spitting blood and teeth in hadestown’s vicious ground-floor landscape.

hermes is his mother’s close old friend, though the times they see each other are few and far between. when he saw him, hermes hardly recognized her son, wild-eyed and clawed and alone in one of the city’s more dangerous neighborhoods, with a pole full of screws slung over his back. how did she lose track of her kid for so long? he thinks. and takes him in.

hermes eventually realizes that his mother didn’t lose him. meanwhile, tiny orpheus, kind-hearted orpheus, despises hermes at first. he’s full of suspicion and desperately wants to lean into hermes’ kindness, but the streets have taught him to hold back. he spits curses at him, though the words slide right off hermes’ shoulders. it’s not genuine. just frustrated. and picked off of the delinquents that were his friends, just like most everything else about him.

(hermes knows he’s gotten his trust when orpheus starts getting soft, when he’s crying over littler things; it means he’s been deemed safe to be vulnerable around, and he damn near starts crying himself.)

orpheus owns a little vespa! it’s covered in stickers, some of them worn out and old, some places with just the adhesive and the fuzzy white paper from where he tried to pull them off. some of them aren’t even proper stickers and just shit he peeled off from places while he was wandering around and stuck onto the vespa

even in canon i see him as the kind of guy who like. you look at him and think jesus how is this guy still alive he’s so noodly and soft, but he’s unexpectedly sort of street smart

anyway i mentioned this before but didn’t elaborate. biker au orph, to eury's surprise, does have his collection of scars, since he had a bit of a rough go at life

also he’s just ungainly and runs into shit

you can see em on his sketch page. he has a bit more than what’s shown, but what’s visible is a little slash across the bridge of his nose onto his cheek, and two on his left forearm. he probably has a stab scar in his side from just getting fucking knifed. the ones on his left forearm are from when a drunk coming out of a bar charged him with a fork

eurydice also has scars. kind of hard not to with the kind of life she lives

ok thats it. For Now. i don’t know how persephone or the fates or the workers factor in, if at all. I barely know how Hades factors in, mostly what i’ve said so far and that he does what he does to support himself and persephone. ah well! just have this

as this is extremely based off of AKIRA, i verily recommend listening to the movie’s soundtrack. besides the fact that it slaps hard as hell, the opening song, Kaneda’s Theme, has the perfect vibes for the city and the tone of eurydice and orpheus riding at night through it

#hadestown #hadestown art #hadestown fanart #hadestown au #broadway #musicals #biker au #my art #this au first came into being because i wanted eurydice with fingerless gloves

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Lover, Tell Me, if You’re Able

Summary: You trek down to the underworld to save a certain Robin using your admittedly limited knowledge of Greek Mythology. Nothing a little moxie can’t fix right?

a/n: I’ve been wanting to do an Orpheus Eurydice thing with Jason for a while now. I’m pretty sure this has been done but I really wanted to take a stab at it.

listen to this song while reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP47npl3rHo

warnings: angst, slight body horror, unhealthy grieving, bad decisions, and kind of an eating disorder caused by unhealthy grieving. There is some tooth rotting fluff though.

word count: 5,049

You snorted in your usual short, breathy laugh—which according to certain asshats sounded less like a laugh and more like the death rattle of a hyena —as you nearly tripped over what felt like the fiftieth rock in the past half hour. You cursed quietly wrapping your shaking arms around yourself letting your unkempt fingernails dig into your thoroughly abused coat which probably had a few unwanted holes by now. It wasn’t even that cold nor was it even remotely scary. You know, aside form the ghostly moaning bouncing off the walls but that was par for the course in Gotham subways. No big deal.

After what felt like the seventieth rock, you swore. You swore loud and vicious and cutting. You swore to capital ‘G’ god that when you found Jason Peter Todd you were gonna curb stomp his ass into next week. This is his fault for being stupid enough to- to-

Just like that, your anger and frustration plummeted into grief.

Your mind fell back to the funeral,

For the first since you entered the dark tunnel a few hours ago—a few days ago?—, you could feel the cavernous walls threatening to close in on you as you took another shaky step.

To all the ‘I’m sorrys’ and condolences,

You could feel your rib cage fall open. Each gentle pat on, gentle look, and hushed whispers scooping out your insides leaving a vast empty cavity save for a heart that ached too much to beat properly and a pair of lungs clogged with too tar to breathe. The expanse of your chest feeling too full and too hollow at once.

To all the ‘he died too young’ crap,

No shit!

No friggin shit!

He was 16. He was six-fucking-teen. He just got his fucking driver’s license.

You wanted to scream but the words lingered in your bones. Instead, the nestled and furled into a mantra and worked their way up to your throat, burning. As if folding and creasing them into a perfect, proper eulogy of hand-picked words would bring him back.

You knew it wouldn’t. You weren’t foolish. You weren’t that hopeful. You weren’t even disgustingly hopeful. You were Alley born. You were practical and brutally realistic. You were also not dumb. As much as people in Gotham Academy seem to believe, you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no ending to his story that involved a long peaceful life. He was also a child of the Alley, born of Gotham’s gutter, there was no way he would not die young.

Your tongue felt heavy like a tombstone being set into place.

And to all the ‘he’s in a better place now’

HA!

The words set your grief a flame burning it into the kind of white anger that consumes even those around you.

Fucking hilarious.

Just fanfuckingtastic.

You’d see about that.

You took a long sobering breath holding it in afraid that if you breathed out the anger would seep out leaving you with nothing but grief.

After what felt like an eternity, you breathed out sure that all the anger, all the irritation, and all the sputtering hope had settled in your bones.

You were going to get him back.

You will.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Jason tapped the edge of your science textbook with his pencil morse coding something and clearly demanding your attention. You rolled your eyes, moved your textbook an inch closer to you, and continued reading through the passage electing to ignore your likely scowling best friend.

He tapped again. You didn’t look up sure that he’d go away if you pretended his existence was an elaborate hoax. This ingenious strategy is probably why you two have been glued together for the last 10 years.

Losing patience, he snatched up your textbook earning a petulant, half-hearted glare from you. “What the fuck do you want, Jay?”

“Do you remember the Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

You blinked at him, honestly confused.

He gave you a questioning look. He could probably see the gears turning in your head.

You’d heard the names before but you were struggling to associate them with anything. Until it clicked.

“Oh yeah, Hadestown the dude with the guitar-”

“Lyre,”

You made an affronted noise which made him roll his eyes at you but you could see the slight twitch in his lips at your antics. You would count that as a win.

“He plays the lyre, you uncultured swine. Did you even read the packet?” He asked lightly tapping your head with your textbook.

“Your posh bitch is showing,” you snorted. he tapped your head just a tinsy bit harder with the textbook. You scowled at him. He gave you a gentle reassuring smile which roughly translated to ‘it was an accident I swear’. “Uh sure. Yeah. Course, I read the packet” you lied reaching over for your textbook which he sets down on the table behind him.

“Are you even literate?” He joked.

“Last time I checked I needed that to forge doctor’s notes for rich snots,” Jason wrinkled his nose trying his level best to scowl at you but from the crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes the laughter bubbling in his chest was clearly winning out. You knew he was just worried about the unnecessary risk you were taking but it was a bad habit from the Alley days you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t like you were likely to get caught.

“The In Class Essay is next period, dip shit” he sneered as harshly as he could. He was so bad at being a hard ass that you just smiled. “Yet here you are talking to me and depriving me of my education,” you snarked, gesturing vaguely to your book.

You could technically get up and get it yourself but you were too lazy and you were pretty sure Jason wasn’t gonna let you get the book that easily. “Sides, it’s English who cares?” At that, Jason wrinkled his nose in disgust. “How am I friends with you again?”

You hummed, leaning back in your chair, tilting your head back dramatically before flinging yourself over the table to snatch up the textbook from the table behind him. You were a good amount taller than Jason which really wasn’t something to be too proud of. The bar wasn’t too fucking high.

You plopped back down to your chair grinning ear to ear victoriously immensely enjoying his shocked look. Then he looked like he was about to deck you.

“Well for starters, I’ve saved your ass from getting shanked about 15 times now. That’s just counting instances out of uniform,” He looked at you affronted. You simply rolled your shoulders. “Plus,” You reached into your blazer pocket and produced a beat-up looking tootsie pop ring.”You’re the one who proposed,”

Jason turned a luminescent shade of red as if you had just pulled out his entire cash of porn which you’ve done. “Why do you still have that?! How?”

“Because you still haven’t given me a proper one,” you said smugly tilting your head to the side inviting him for a rebuttal. He sighed exasperated. Resting his chin on his hand, palm covering half of his face, he glared at the opposite wall making damned sure that he didn’t look your way. The flush in his ears peaked through his cropped curls. It was hard to catch but your nosy ass definitely heard him mumble “I’m saving up,”.

Your face broke into a stupidly wide smile, a warm feeling bubbling up in you. “I’ll hold you to that, lover,” you cooed cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the nose as the bell rang. You could see the mortification attack his entire being in waves.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Stumbling out of the tunnel, you find yourself in a fray of souls all crowding towards the shore. You keep your head down and shuffle in step with the dead.

‘The dead hate the living’ Constantine warned as he handed you the drachma and a beat-up old map. You handed him a wad of cash. He didn’t seem to care that money was dirty.

You keep your expression carefully blank and focus on your feet but the sheer anxiety crawling up your spine rattling every vertebra was making that very difficult. You swallowed thickly trying to think of anything else but the depressing moans and absolutely haunted expressions were also making your life difficult. Instead, you focus on your award-winning bullshit speech that was surely going to win over the lord and lady of the underworld. Ok, sure, you weren’t half the thief Jason was nor were you even half as smart. But you were definitely the better conman. You might have had absolutely no interest in English class but words have always been your friend. You could definitely spin it with the best of them. It helped that all the rough edges that came with being an Alley kid tucked themselves neatly away behind trustworthy eyes and easy smiles. Even gods could be taken for a ride, right?

Somehow you made it to the shore without incident and even got yourself on the boat without even as much as a glance from the ferryman. That was a little unnerving but you weren’t about to complain. Not when it brought you a step closer to your goal. It might have been partially due to your unkempt appearance. Long nails, dead fish eyes, ratty coat, sallow cheeks, and dimming complexion all thanks to this wonderful diet called ‘grieving over your dumbass boyfriend/best friend because he decided to be a dramatic bitch and die an untimely death’. Part of you wonders if you simply want to bring him back so you could murder him. Maybe. Looking around at the haunted looks on your fellow passengers move that to a probably.

Uncomfortable, you jam your hands into your coat pockets. One hand dug deep into the recesses of the pocket where the little ring was safely squirreled away. You fidgeted with it passing it from finger to finger like the coin trick you’d learned a while back.

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Marry me,” Jason demanded unsurely, kneeling on one knee clasping your hand with both of his tiny ones. His little face ironed into something serious but cheeks flushed making them, what the girls called, pinchable but even at age 6, you were able to resist if simply for the fact that you were dumbstruck by the fact that your best friend and crush was suddenly at your doorstep in the middle of the day and clasping your hand.

“What?” You asked tugging your hand away but he didn’t let go. He absolutely refused to.

“Marry me,” he insisted. “I’m proposing,” he added shyly seeing how the confused furrow in your brow did not disappear. “Lena said it was a good idea,” he added quietly.

A round of hoots and hollers exploded behind you including Lena who was laughing her ass off. Even Carol and Lassie who were busy doing their makeup were snickering and giving you a thumbs up respectively. Your face burned hot and you scowled at all of them which just made them laugh louder. You snapped your attention back to Jason who looked at you with bright earnest blue eyes. Fuck. You crossed your arms trying to look intimidating and failing miserably because of just how goddamned cute he looked. Manipulative bastard.

“Don’t you need a ring for that, bud?” you challenged.

“Oh yeah,” He scrambled digging through his various pockets before producing a tootsie pop ring. Your hackles rose. What the hell Lena?

“Look at the size of that rock!” Josaline hollered from behind you. You could see the teasing smile on her face. You wanted to shrink. You wanted to maul them. You also wanted to burst because your crush likes you. You had a tiny, itsy bitsy crush on Jason for a while now. You’ve always declared that it was small but that didn’t stop the girls from teasing you relentlessly and this was just a nail in the coffin. You wanted to scream at Jason but the way he looked at you made your little heart flutter.

“Fine,”

He grinned wide. “Great! We can share rent,” he said his earnest smile turning cheeky. You swore some of the girls were choking from laughter. That was the moment you decided to make Jason Todd’s life miserable.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

As it turns out, traversing the underworld wasn’t that hard.

Nope. It wasn’t any harder than going around crime alley. At least here, you weren’t too worried about getting shot.

Nope.

It was just incredibly. Fucking. Depressing.

The atmosphere was suffocating and the only thing you’ve heard for hours were people listing their regrets when they weren’t too busy sobbing. Given they have every right to be this way. They did die after all. But Christ! You being able to understand it didn’t mean you could stand it.

Jason owed you big time.

Jason owed you the largest bowl of ice cream complete with 20 different flavors of your choosing, a mountain of whipped cream, a shovel full of sprinkles, and an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup.

And a hug. A long ass, bone crushing hug.

Yeah, you’re definitely demanding a hug. You don’t care if his pansy ass tries to break for it. You were getting the hug.

Once this was done-

You turned the thought over in your head pointedly ignoring the fat droplets of tears now streaking your face. You weren’t entirely sure whether they were from relief or unrelenting anxiety. If you succeed, your 8 months of hell would have been worth it.

But what if I fail?

What happens when I fail?

The thought seized your breath, your lungs constricting as if their cage of bones was threatening to collapse in on itself in your effort to shrink away from the possibility. You stopped breathing completely. A bad habit you picked up from your first foster home after social services took you from your home. Apparently, they didn’t think a group of hookers could provide a safe loving environment for a kid. Assholes. Breathing meant relaxing. Relaxing meant letting your guard down. Letting your guard down led to bad things. Jason never commented on your new habit after you two reunited. After you both found yourselves at the mercy of Gotham’s streets.

“Lover tell me if you can~” You paused but not quite long enough for a response. Not like a few months ago when you’d wait catatonically for Jason to respond with the verse you’d forgotten in his oddly melodious voice. Singing was the one way you’d learned to breathe out after locking up without triggering a panic attack. Sure, it annoyed the hell out of a lot of people but who cares. You liked it. Your voice was decent. Plus, Jason loved it when you sang. Your breaths flowed easier accompanied by a melody and the smile on Jason’s face every time you sang always took your breath away.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

“ Lover, tell me if you can Who’s gonna buy the wedding bands?~” You hummed the rest of the forgotten stanza under your breath as you wrap the ‘acquired’ blanket around the both of you. Gotham winters were a bitch but you tried your best to keep your spirits up which basically meant teasing Jason to hell and back. Who knew calling him lover would annoy him so much?

Instead of the intended reaction, Jason simply continued to the next stanza sounding a lot more in tone than you. You huffed partially from amusement partially from frustration.

“Figures you would know this song,” you teased.

Jason scowled tugging more of the blanket around himself as a lame form of retaliation. You leaned in closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. He huffed not really able to stay mad at you for too long.“It’s from Hadestown. The old woman at the pawnshop always plays it when she’s working,”

“Horse shit, all she ever plays when I’m there is Madame Guillotine,” You wrinkled your nose.”She probably hates me,”

“Gee, I wonder what that’s about,” Jason smirked.

“You know, she probably has a crush on you,”

“EW! Shut up!”

“Come on we gotta milk it-”

He elbowed you.

“Fine,” you relented, rubbing your chest and letting your head lean on his. You watched the snowfall basking in what little warmth you shared.

“Promise me you’ll sing that when-”

“IF”

“When we get married,”

“Fine but ya gotta sing the entire GI Joe theme song plus the Baby Shark Song,”

“BET”

——————————————————————————————————————————-

You stood before large obsidian doors bouncing on the balls of your feet. The doors were carved elegantly with swirling patterns and sprawling carvings of flowers and bones. Dramatic but very pretty. Your stomach churned as the doors lurched open.

You were going to be sick.

Before you were a long table piled high with every kind of food you could think of. Likely you would have had to pick up your jaw and mop up a cascade of drool from the floor if not for the last few months. Your stomach threatened to implode if you kept looking. Months of not eating properly did that to you. The first few months were the worst. You were barely able to keep a bite down without your body convulsing and rejecting it. Sadness had hollowed you out and filled you with something else during those months.

Now, you shifted your gaze to focus on the tall man sitting imperiously at the other end of the table on a throne carved out of precious metal. How someone looked imperious while eating was a mystery to you. It might be the fact that he was abnormally large looking to be around 10 ft tall. His frame was broad which contrasted greatly with the regal features of his face which were set in a rather loving configuration as he stared deep into the eyes of the dark-skinned woman as she recounted what sounded like a hilarious encounter with a dryad. The woman was unnaturally pretty with sculpted features and wild curls. She looked right at home underneath the sun which made her presence here ease your fraying nerves. They smiled at each other smitten with each other’s presence which almost made you feel guilty for interrupting their moment of marital bliss.

You clear your throat as politely as you could drawing their attention and possibly their ire towards you. You took a deep breath, the kind that inflated your entire body, and forced it out through your nostrils as your mouth was busy reconfiguring itself into an easy smile.

“My Lord Hades. My Lady Persephone,” You greeted bowing your head courteously. Your gestures were less grandiose and theatrical as the ones you used on the rich punks in Gotham which they happily lapped up. No, you made sure every movement, every posture, and every word was quieter, trying your damnedest to radiate sincerity and reverence from every pore in your body. Sure, you didn’t have Jason’s easy charisma and sure, you didn’t have the power Dick had for making everyone fall in love with you instantly but you were damned if you were going to make a fool of yourself in front of two literal gods and squander your only chance at getting your boy back. Not when you’ve come so far. Not when you’ve done so much. Not when you’ve dirtied your hands this much.

Hades looked neither pleased nor displeased by your presence. Good enough. The fact that you were still intact might have something to do with the mischief in Persephone’s eyes. She looked extremely amused despite your interruption. You hoped, which you didn’t normally do, that that boded well for you.

“I am her-”

“We know,” Hades interrupts.

Your body twitched. Rude. But you schooled your features into something resembling pleasantry.

“You’re here for the boy,” He adds, waving his hand. Without time for your brain to process. Jason is there battered, bloodied, and bruised. The dazed look in his eyes made him look haunted which made your breath seize. A cocktail of anger and sadness and relief swelled in you as your body twitched forward. All you wanted to do was hold him, to stroke his hair, to sing to him, to take him to Dr.Thompkins to get his injuries sorted out, and possibly watch the old woman thwack him on the head half a dozen times. Hell, you would offer to count. Your stomach churned and you felt dizzy. This is the most alive you’ve felt in months. This is also the most fearful you’ve felt in months. You felt like you were going to fall apart and recongeal into an entirely new person.

Focus.

It was hard to do when you saw how tattered his Robin uniform looked but you managed to straighten yourself out enough in time to catch Hades as he watched you appraisingly, searching for raw desperation in your features. You tucked it away in your bones and in the deepest recesses of your chest. He seemed amused and even mildly impressed by your restraint so he dined to push further.

“What are you willing to trade for him?”

Everything.

Your mind screamed automatically. The word dangled thickly at the edge of your tongue.

You would have plucked each and every star out of the sky and fashioned them into a necklace that would adorn Lady Persephone’s neck.

You would have used Poseidon’s ocean to douse the sun.

You would have used the fires of Tartarus to set the world ablaze. It deserved it for the hand it dealt Jason.

You would do anything if it meant having Jason back in your arms.

You bit your cheek hard forcing yourself to refocus. You shifted your posture making a show of thinking if only to gather yourself. You knew the answer. It might not have been the right one and if you’re being honest, it wasn’t even a good one. You rolled your shoulders trying to mold yourself into a more sure version of yourself.

“My future,”

The room plunged into silence.

Jason who had looked like he was not all there widened his eyes and shook his head at you. You simply leveled him a smile full of cocksure and hot air. Sure, your future wasn’t worth much. People have told you as much. But it was a novel offer. It wasn’t every day that a mortal offered their fate to you and gods love nothing more than novelty.

Both gods remained silent. Hades narrowing his eyes at you and Persephone stared at you with an unreadable expression. The longer the silence wore on the more your confidence waned. The treacherous chorus in your head began to sing of the failure that has yet to happen.

Persephone let out a trill of delighted laughter and Hades shook his head in amusement, his solemn lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. Both you and Jason stiffened.

“My love, just let them go,” Persephone pleaded sweetly cupping Hades’s face gently. It was an intimate gesture that made even you soft.

“My dear…”

“It was not the boy’s time, my love,”

Damn straight, it wasn’t!

Hades let out an exasperated sigh before looking at you again. “I will grant you both freedom if you pass my trials,”

“Anything!” The word spilled out of you too quickly, too raw. A satisfied smile wrinkled at the corners of Hades’s eyes. Fucker.

“I will have you do three trials-” He flicked his hand and Jason materialized beside you. “-with the boy’s aid,” Without an ounce of hesitation, you gathered him into your arms with all the bravado and restraint giving way too stupidly unfiltered happiness. Without meaning to, you let fat droplets of tears streak your face. Jason copped your face giving you a wry smile and wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“You look like shit,”

“So do you,”

You both laughed. You kissed his palm and took his hand from your face and kissed his knuckle. A flush crept on to Jason’s face but he couldn’t hide that any better than he could hide the loving look in his eyes when he looked into yours.

The trials were almost insultingly easy especially when you had the world’s best Robin with you. Sure, you were battered and bruised but it was nothing you could not handle. You suspected that Persephone was rooting for you. That or Hades just wanted you out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t care. There was no way you were failing.

You returned to Hades’ hall, arms full of spoils, and Jason’s hand interlaced with yours. You both try to fight off the hopeful feeling bubbling in your chest but there was no helping it when his hand was warm in yours. You smiled gratefully at Persephone who returned it in kind, looking sincerely happy for the both of you. You made a note to send her an appropriate sacrifice once you were back on the surface.

Hades inspected your spoils and hummed. Your stomach lurched. Jason squeezed your hand and kissed your nose. Persephone practically squealed at the adorable gesture while Hades just smiled at his wife’s antics.

“You have succeeded,”

“Thank you-”

“But I have one last trial for you,”

Hades holds up his hand before you could protest.

“Do you recall the deal I made with Orpheus?”

You nodded almost numbly. Jason gave you a surprised look which you returned with a scowl.

“Good. I will make the same deal with you. Does that sound fair to you?”

You both nodded frantically. You knew this would be hard especially with your frayed nerves but it was nothing you could not handle.

On the way to the tunnel, you held each other close, soaking up contact while you could. When you reached the tunnel, you hesitantly let go of his hand making sure to remember the feeling of your fingers intertwined together. He pressed kisses to every inch of your face likely feeling guilty over your haggard state. You whispered jokes and half baked promises to appease him in return as you squeezed him harder. You walked tensely up the tunnel trailed by his ever quieting footsteps. You began to hum every song you could think of including the very annoying ones which earned you a lot of annoyed grunts and critiques from your ghostly companion. You also chattered about everything you could think of. All the latest gossip. All the things you learned during your global crime spree. You may have left out the crime spree but you could deal with the fall out later. Instead, you focused on the happy things. The things you wanted to do with him once you two got out. Once, you brought him back to Gotham. Sure, Bruce was probably going to maul you for all the trouble you’ve caused the JLA but fuck them. Seriously fuck them.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw it. You saw light. Bright, crisp, and blinding. You were going to cry. You were almost there. You were almost out. Your body launched into a sprint. Your chest felt like something in it shook loose and your body was lighter than it had ever been. You were almost there. You could almost feel the sun on your skin.

You ran into the light and -

——————————————————————————————————————————-

You woke up on the damp earth.

Everything ached.

Your veins felt rusty and sluggish.

Your mind even more so.

Snow flitted down to the earth in gentle feathery flakes.

Your senses returned to you one by one.

The sound of shouting and car horns littered the periphery of your consciousness.

Your fingers felt cold and numb.

The familiar smell and taste of Gotham smog overwhelmed your senses.

That wasn’t right.

That wasn’t right at all. You were in Mani in southern Peloponnese. You were face to face with one of the Gates of Hades just a few hours ago.

You shuffled through your coat. You did not have your drachma. You did not have your map.

You snapped your head in every direction looking desperately for any sign of Jason. Not even a single footprint.

Your stomach dropped as despair took hold of you and clung to every bone in your body. Pulling yourself up unsteadily, you stood taking baby steps towards a thoroughly battered brick wall. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, your phone began dialing a number automatically.

“You have reached Wayne Manor,” Alfred’s posh voice carries over the phone.

Your breath stutters. The words claw their way out of your chest.

“Jason- Jason, he-”

Alfred remained silent. Alfred was likely shaking his head in pity. You couldn’t stand that. You could barely stand the feeling of your skin right now. Your resounding failure rippled underneath your skin making you tremble on to your knees. You could do nothing but crumple to the ground in pathetic sobs as the weight of agony and despair weighed over you.

“Jason. Jason. Jason.”

You whispered apologetically, reverently. The words would not call him back. Those words could never call him back.

—————————————————————————————————————————–

Piece by piece Jason returned to himself.

Jason woke up swallowed in darkness. It was deep and unyielding. Even his training with Batman could not alleviate the anxiety that brought.

The second thing to return was his hearing. It was deathly silent save for the pounding of his own heart and his frantic breathing.

Where was he?

The air around him tasted stale and the resolute smell of formaldehyde was inescapable.

Then the pain lanced through and all his memories came back in a splotchy kaleidoscope of fear, fire, and pain.

He was dead.

He died.

He was in Ethiopia.

He was trying to save his mom.

Oh god.

Where is Bruce?

Where is he?

Why is it so dark?

Jason tried to move his limbs but it was no use. He was boxed in.

That’s when the smell of earth hit him.

Jason pressed his hands every which way.

He was literally boxed in.

Was he in a coffin?

He tried to scream.

His mouth was wired shut.

Oh god.

He was going to die.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ending was a bit rushed. I might edit it later. Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to roast me in the comments.

(Note: I tried editing the ending to make it more panicky and claustrophobic. I don’t know if t worked.)

This was inspired by the fact that Jason Todd: Not-So-Outlaw by goawayolivia never answers how Jason came back.

Here is my answer. It is pure dumbassery.

taglist:

@birdy-bat-writes (enabler)

@idkmanicantenglish (sweet heart)

@batarella (Because I honestly blame you for this)

@multifandomgirl-us

@foenixphire

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #Jason Todd #angst #My writing #attempts at humor #dc fanfiction #reader insert #imagine #hurt/comfort #kind of #more on hurt #have fun #batboys #batkids

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hadestownmodern · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Persephone

...hey y’all I wrote this literally July 8th 2020 <3 And I was saving it for now, because in this au, Persephone’s birthday was always the first day of spring.

Happy First Day of Spring, y’all.

-A

“Happy Birthday, Persephone.” The words are like velvet on her ears as they roll off her husbands tongue, as she is given permission to open her eyes and take in the site before her.

“Honey I-...” She breathes in sharply through her nose as she looks at the glass windows before her. They are covered in a light brown dust, covered in finger prints, the welcome mat well worn. She cannot see the awning, or the neon sign announcing the name of the shop, but it is a familiar building. Not far from her home, her daughter’s school, or her husbands work, she has passed it a couple hundred times in her life, though it never really stood out as anything spectacular. “Where...are we?”

“Well.” He starts to remove his coat, and with a hand on the small of her back leads her backwards towards the other side of the road so that she can take in the scope of the building before her. “Sometime, oh, probably twenty five years ago, you asked me if I could have been a chef, would I have been? No, you know that. But then I asked you, too, what you would do if you could do anything. And it was a flower shop, remember? It was open a flower shop with your mom.” His other hand rests on her cheek, directing her attention up. “You wanted a flower shop so that you could be with your mom. And have time to be around for our family. Well. Time and fate have been funny to us, haven’t they? But..it isn’t too late for that, is it? Junie’s almost nine…” He lifts her chin so that her eyes can catch on the neon sign above them, in the brilliant neon pink stands her name, in a flourished cursive.

Persephone’s

“You can change the name, if you’d want to. But.. it does belong to you. It’s not far from home, and Junie could walk here after school. And I know it’s important to you to be there to help Eurydice and Orpheus, and this isn’t far from them at all..”

His nervous rambling is cut off by her lips on his, her arms thrown over his shoulders tightly. She pulls away, tears streaming down her face and taking her mascara with them. “You bought me a store?”

“We, of all people, have been reminded how short life is. So why not do what you want to do with that life, right?” It wasn’t advice he was likely to take himself, but with his hands holding his wife’s face, he knew the meaning of the words went beyond career.

She’s beaming in his arms, burying her face into his chest as she laughs, happy, joyful tears running down her face. “Thank you, love.”

“Anything for you, Seph.” Hades murmurs, leaning his head ontop of hers, before rubbing her upper arm comfortingly. “Go ahead. Go inside, tell me what you think.” He encourages before gesturing inside with a nod of his head. “I think you’ll like it.”

Persephone grins and turns to go in, pulling him closely behind her. He hands her a key, one that has been painted white with ornate, colorful flowers covering the face, that is connected to a keychain of a photo of her, her mother, and their daughter taken in a garden nearly eight years prior. She’s shaking as she unlocks the door, adrenaline making it hard to steady her hand. She’s knocked off guard when the glass door pushes open and the voices of her family greet her.

“Surprise”

Surprise comes from the voice of her mother and daughter, who are standing near a display of lillies blossoming in half a dozen colors, identical smiles on their faces. Junie bounds up to her, hugging around her middle before Persephone can take in the next group.

Surprise comes from Hermes, who is standing next to light blue hydrangeas, leaning on the wooden display that says the name of the plant in beautiful script she recognizes as her mother’s.

Surprise comes from Orpheus and Eurydice, surrounded by brilliant, blood red carnations, and their three young daughters, who all beam at her with all the admiration in the world.

Surprise, comes from her family.

“What are you all- how did these get here?” Persephone asks, hands gently combing through Junie’s tight ringlet curls as she embraces her. “These plants, where did you-”

“It’s all your husband,” Demeter admits, approaching her daughter to hug her. “Well, his idea. We’ve been working on the flowers for months but..it was all his idea. I told him it was impossible to get blooming lilies this early, and he insisted he would do it. I didn’t think he’d pull it off.” Demeter kisses Persephone’s cheek, cradling her face in her hands. “We have a lot more coming in this week..but we wanted something here for now… and I think we did a pretty good job. All from local or family owned vendors too. I hate to admit it, but i’m impressed.”

Hades shakes his head playfully as he goes off to talk with Hermes, various conversations about the best companies to use to light the place and provide water lost in the excitement of the room.

Eurydice and Orpheus are next to talk with Persephone, ushering their small herd of little girls with them. Melody and Aria are first, hugging Persephone around her legs, looking up at her with bright, innocent eyes.

“Aria’s very excited for your flowers, Seph.” Orpheus announces, leaning in to hug his pseudo mother while holding one and a half year old Lyra up right. “She can’t wait to color them.”

“I want to organize them,” Melody announces, already running off to join Junie in playing next to the Hydrangeas Hermes had guarded earlier.

“How did you all keep this from me?” Persephone asks, taking little Lyra on to her hip to kiss her little cheek. “How long have you known?”

“Since christmas.” Orpheus admits, wrapping both newly free arms around his wife’s shoulders. “We couldn’t tell you… hades and Amma never would have forgiven us for ruining this.”

“And, besides, you just think when we’re being secretive it’s another baby.” Eurydice teases, reaching out to hug Persephone tightly. “Thank you, Seph. For all you’ve done for all of us. You’ve raised us all, really. You deserve something for you. You deserve to be celebrated. We all love you.”

“Just don’t go stealing my best worker.” Hermes calls out, approaching Persephone with a full champagne glass in his hand, which he quickly deposits in hers. “You can have the singer, I want to keep the girl.” He teases his sister, looking between Orpheus and Eurydice .”Really, we should probably separate them, don’t you think?”

Hermes clears his throat, looking around the room full of their family. He drapes his arms over Persephone’s shoulders as he raises the other champagne glass in his hand. “To Persephone.”

“To Persephone”

#hadestown fanfic #hadestown au #hadestown #persephone fanfic #hades fanfic #hades and persephone #eurydice #orpheus #hadestown modern #hadestown modern au #hold on a little longer everyone bc summer's coming and that means writing time

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dyenasaur · 3 years

Text

Some Musical Fluff

I've never really done fic before but Eurydice and Orpheus are overwhelmingly sweet and need to be shared.

SFW, Lite Spoilers?

Eurydice had just gotten used to that little Hades Kid showing up almost like bad clockwork. It added spice to an unfortunately bland afterlife, and if nothing else, the feedback on her recipes was enough to re-energize her, break her from her internal monotony.

That didn't mean his visits always left sweet, though, as much as she liked the boy, he had a distressing habit of adding a bitter tang of her late mate, the singer Orpheus. Still, she was learning to work it in, smooth it down, as he was only asking innocently- Why wouldn't a husband and wife long to be together, after all? What was cute was to watch Zagreus' bravado rising, this injustice flaring at his nose and thickening his brow, just like his father.

She wasn't brave enough to mention it, but maybe this time, as she heard the Phlegathon hiss and bubble under a craft, she would flip the conversation, dig a kernel of something deeper out of Zagreus instead of the other way around. The song that flowed from her lips like thoughts from her mind quieted as she listened, and she stirred absently, waiting for the sizzling smack of burning feet run up her stairs- He was forever in a hurry. She had forgotten what it felt like to rush-

But instead, she head the faint grumble of Charon, a distinct wooden thud, and the mutter of an answering voice. Then, tentative silence as unsteady feet ground into the ashy mess at the river's burning banks. Charon grunted something, and his boat ground off into deeper magma, back to whatever it was the Boatman did when he wasn't escorting souls.

While the nymph's mind wandered after the mysterious figure, she slowly realized she was not hearing the tell-tale signs of her new friend. Something he had said rang within her ears, and while her heart hadn't beat in ages, something in her still twinged and clenched. Who else would visit her? Who else even knew she was here?

The gentle tap of a sandal on her stone stairs made her freeze. Only the hiss of her protesting food reminded her hands to continue to move. No. He wouldn't get to do this to her again. He had his chance. She'd moved on! And yet.. A gentle, slender hand graced over the few plants she'd saved from the burning river, and they cried out to her in joy. She knew that hand, and so did the plants, as much of herself as she'd put into them. The tremble in the fingers that shivered through the plants shot up the nymphs spine, shaking the odd leaf from her branches, and she absolutely melted as her ears caught the soft hum of the man who'd gone through Hell itself to try and bring her home.

Orpheus had always been a man of peculiar talents and preoccupations. Many of them had been the very reason the Muse chose to grace him with her constant presence. The fact that he hummed to plants, because everyone enjoyed a song, was one of them. She couldn't deny it. Orpheus was here.

At her home.

To be at her side.

Again.

She could have sworn her heart beat again in time with the gentle taps of his feet up her stairs. That as he approached her false door, she almost thought she might bloom on the spot. The humming stopped as he pushed his way shakily through the stone, and he tripped into her sight. She meant to move to catch him, but she'd found herself partially rooted to the spot, and-

They stumbled together. Like clumsy yearlings, like the ground was not as rock solid as it had always been. Orpheus caught at Eurydice's shoulders, his grip still powerful even while the rest of him was not. Eurydice's strong arms circled his waist, one foot planted securely for him to land against, pale skin and thin cloth pressed against warm bark and thick furs.

Like not a day had passed. How many times had they come together this way, for so many reasons? When Orpheus turned his face up to her, a spot of something wet landed on it, but he only had eyes for her beautiful face.

"My love... my Muse.." His voice cracked, but with joy, a sound she'd never experienced, and instantly, she drew him into herself, pressed him tight and sank to the floor, shading him from the river's burning light.

"My silly little man." She cooed, and it was rough, her own throat clenched. And now they were both marked with wet spots in a joy that no living mortal could properly explain.

It was like they were starving, both sets of hands roaming over familiar shoulders and arms, stroking hair and petting faces, staring abjectly at the one thing they wanted to see most of all. Eurydice vaguely remembered the light of Ixion just beginning to brighten when she'd heard the boat arrive, but neither one cared to mark the passage of time.

Orpheus sat curled, cradled against his wife, pressing his face to her neck, her shoulder, kissing any browned barklike flesh he found, as though he feared it would vanish if not held in place by affection. Eurydice's hands couldn't stop moving, roving over her mate's pliant arms, hands. Underneath her awe, she cared enough to wonder how he had been treated in servitude, but found no new marks.

Neither one noticed when their tears dried, and it was much longer than it should have been before Orpheus finally broke the sound of another being's presence with a small, wavering question.

"My love... Do I smell burning?"

A squawk of surprise answered him, but frankly she found herself sluggish to act, and finally settled on simply turning the stove off and pulling her bundle of musician onto the bed with her.

"I can fix it later. I can't make this moment come back." She murmured, and he was grateful to accept the sentiment.

Neither one could have told Zagreus how long, how many times Ixion brightened and dimmed to mark the time, but when his cobbled raft of skulls slid against the shores, immediately the godling knew that there was nothing for him here. The beautiful melody that drifted from the house on this burning island made him feel light enough he didn't even want to ask if anything was cooking.

Zagreus settled, as quietly as he could manage, on Eurydice's stairs and gave himself some time to rub down sore muscles, his heart flying on the joy that enveloped the island. Nothing marked the Prince's quiet, smiling exit on another raft, as both musician and muse were lost in eachother's eyes and voice.

#hades game #orphydice #fanfic #fluff #oneshot

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therainbowwillow · 3 years

Text

https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/640094221880197120/therainbowwillow -Part 2

Well! Part 3/??? Here’s the premise: Hades’ terms for Orpheus leaving Hadestown are extremely harsh. Persephone threatens to leave him, and he’s forced to back down, leaving Orpheus with a single rule: he can’t sing until he’s out. He orders the residents of Hade to kill Orpheus, the only living mortal in the underworld. Eurydice, Persephone, and other mythological heroes join him on the journey to escape. Hermes gets word of his son’s trial and decides he’ll assist Orpheus. Dionysus joins him to visit Persephone (his mother, I’m using his Orphic parentage: Hades and Persephone) and Apollo comes, inspired by Orpheus’s attempt at freeing Eurydice, to find his lover, Hyacinthus.

TLDR Hadestown, but a different terms for our favorite singer and WAY more characters because why not.

Unrelated but my phone really wants to autocorrect “Orpheus” to “Orange,” which makes for a whole different story, honestly.

Anyway, here we go:

Eurydice lays beside her sleeping lover, staring up at the cracked ceiling of Persephone’s greenhouse. Burnt vines wrap the walls and climb towards the artificial lights of Hadestown. “Plants don’t grow towards neon the way they do the sun,” Persephone had said. “Not even when coerced by a goddess.” Still, the abandoned building provides decent shelter, which is far better than the rest of the underworld. Instead of trapping the heat, it seems to keep in the cold.

Eurydice glances at Orpheus. Even in the cool of the greenhouse, he sweats in his sleep. He’s exhausted and hungry, she knows, but they have no outside food. If he eats the food of Hadestown, she fears it’ll bind him to the damned place, just as the pomegranate seeds had bound Persephone.

Orpheus rolls over. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Eurydice keeps a closer eye on him. “Persephone?” she asks.

“Hm?” The goddess responds.

“What will Hades do if he catches us? I know the stories... Sisyphus, pushing his stone uphill forever. Tantalus, starved, with food just out of reach. Eternal torture. Is that what lays ahead?” Her voice doesn’t quiver. She finds she isn’t afraid of the answer, not after the mines. Hours and hours of her pickaxe against stone. And once she’d finished, she’d be building Hades’ wall or laying wires or partaking in some other pointless feat. Everyone in Hadestown feels like Sisyphus now.

“It’s best... it’s best if you don’t think about it.” Persephone sips from her canteen. Alcohol, certainly. Her voice has a drunken lisp to it.

“I want to know what’s at stake,” Eurydice says. Orpheus again tosses in his sleep.

“Eternal torture sums it up fine.”

“He’ll separate us, won’t he?”

Persephone shrugs. “Your contract will change. All of ours’ will. Probably a ban from speaking to each other.”

“What can he do to stop us?” Achilles mutters. “We’re dead already and he took our paridise. I can bear his whip, his mines. This whole place is torture.”

“Tell me about it.” Persephone rolls her eyes. “A goddess of spring, confined to... this.” She gestures around her.

“They say you loved him,” Eurydice says.

“Loved him. An emphasis on loved.” She takes another sip of her alcohol and slips off her wedding band. She flips it in the air and catches it. “I chose this. I chose Hades over light. Over life and clean air and springtime. I preferred Hades’ tyranny over Demeter’s. That dance... it almost felt like a fresh start. But what did I expect?” She takes a withered vine between her fingers. “This is futile. We should be planning. This place sucks the life out of everything it touches. Our poet included.”

Orpheus gasps. “Speaking of our poet, he’s awake!” She tilts her head. “You alright?” Eurydice asks.

Orpheus swallows. His eyes are wide and his breaths quick. He shakes his head. “No... no. You need to go. All of you.”

“Hey,” she rests her palm over his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. You need rest.”

He wipes his eyes. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand! Go. Please Eurydice. Please.”

“Shh... shh. You’re alright.”

He snatches his hand away. “No. I’m not. It’s... it’s too far. I’ll be... I’ll be dead by the time we reach the Styx.”

“Orpheus! Don’t talk like that. We’re gonna make it.”

“No, we aren’t. Hades is going to find me and he’ll kill me because I... I can’t do this. I can’t walk alone and I’m not allowed to sing and whatever he did to me...”

“Orpheus, look at me. You’re gonna be fine.”

“It’s not over, okay? I... I should’ve told you but...”

“What are you talking about, Orpheus? What is this?”

He sobs and sinks into her arms. “I feel worse. Eurydice, I’m getting worse,” he whispers.

“Once we’re out-“

“Once you’re out. Leave me here.”

“How can you say that? I’m not letting Hades have you!” Eurydice raises her voice.

“I came for you. And now... you’re dragging me out. I’m useless and I’m holding you back. Eurydice, I’d never forgive myself if you didn’t... if...”

“We’re going to get out of here.”

“Would you listen to me?” He yells. “We are not going to get out of here. Not so long as you’re carrying dead weight! I...” he tries to push himself upright but sinks back into Eurydice’s embrace. “I can’t sing. I can’t walk. I can’t even stand.”

She doesn’t respond. She just holds him, tight in her arms. “I don’t care,” she whispers. “I’ll carry you out of here if I have to. I love you and I’m never letting you go again. I promise.”

Orpheus says nothing. “Orpheus?”

She lifts him up and his chin falls against his chest. “Orpheus... no. No, you can’t do this to me.” She places a finger under his nose and feels his shallow breaths. She breathes a sigh of relief. “You’re alright. You’re alright.” She isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince herself or Orpheus, who cannot hear her. She lays his head back down on his coat, a makeshift pillow.

Patroclus kneels at her side. “Orpheus is right. He is getting worse.”

“What’s wrong with him?” She begs.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “He could be ill with some plague, but that’s Apollo’s domain, not Hades’s. Maybe he is only hungry or dehydrated. Regardless, he’s right that he won’t last forever down here. We should get moving.” Eurydice nods. “I wish I could be more help.”

“Someone’s here!” Achilles shouts. Patroclus leaps to his feet.

“Protect Orpheus,” he commands Eurydice and Persephone.

“If it’s my husband,” Persephone growls, “I’ll deal with him.”

Patroclus nods and returns to Achilles.

—————————————

Hades sits beside his office window. He’d given the orders in the morning: kill Orpheus. If the boy dies, his killer will not be asked to work for the rest of their time in the underworld. His plan would soon succeed. His shades would end the fool’s life and finally, finally, Hades would have his kingdom back. It had only been 48 hours or so since Orpheus’s failed serenade, but it had felt like an eternity.

Hades reaches for his wine glass. The portrait he’d torn from the wall catches his eye. Persephone, smiling, a babe at her knee. It had been a long while since he’d seen that child. Dionysus, god of wine and madness. He visited the underworld plenty, once or more every winter. Never the tower, though. He only knew the boy had come by because his wife would return, drunk out of her mind. He’d drag her to bed and every time, he’d bribe Hypnos to keep his dear Persephone asleep an extra few hours, to let her sleep off the hangover. Dionysus could wash away her intoxication with a wave of his hand. He used to. But for a long while now, she’d return drunk. Upon her request, Hades knew. He tried now not to feel the sting of this fact. His own wife would rather be blackout drunk than speak to him.

Still, he loves her. He’d laid a thousand miles of wires to brighten his kingdom, to mimic the sun she so loved. And she’d complained it was too bright. He’d let her have a wide stretch of land to attempt to grow a garden. He’d tended it with her, but still, the plants wilted. And now he had let Orpheus tear out his heart for Persephone. He’d done everything for her, nearly lost everything for her, and still, she hates him.

Hades lifts the painting from the ground and lays it across his desk. He sees his labors. To keep his hold on the underworld and his wife’s affection, if she has any left. He must prioritize his realm. He loves her, more than any kingdom, but the binds of death must not be unwound, Hades knows. The mortal realm his wife so loves would wither without death. It cannot be overrun by fleeing shades. His kingdom is his responsibility, and he must keep it in check. And so he tucks the painting into a drawer, gone from sight, gone from mind.

————————————

Hermes was beginning to wonder if Zeus could think up a worse punishment than his current circumstances. Dionysus tips his head back and chugs another flask of wine. “Want some?” he offers, for what must be the thousandth time.

Hermes sighs. “Yes.”

“Aha! Finally! The best of the best for you, my friend.” He holds out the flask and curtseys, sloshing wine over his tunic.

Hermes pinches the bridge of his nose. “Read the room,” he mutters.

“What?”

“I said thanks,” he lies. He takes a sip. The wine is incredible, better than any mortal’s best vintage.

“My dear flower, light in my eye, the sun to my sky...” Apollo recites.

Hermes wants to scream. His son is probably miserable, cast into Tartarus or locked in a cell somewhere, and here he is, listening to Apollo memorizing lines for Hyacinthus, who’s probably so deep under the Lethe’s amnesia that he won’t remember who the god is. He takes another sip of wine. “Dionysus!”

“Yes?” Dionysus laughs.

Hermes grits his teeth. Intoxication is no help to Dionysus’s ability to understand the severity of the situation. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll undo the effects of your alcohol on me before we get to Hadestown.”

“Sure.”

“Excellent. Now, do you have something stronger?”

“‘Course! Here.”

Hermes drinks. The alcohol burns his throat. He forces himself not to cough.

“Too strong?”

“Mm.” Hermes clears his thoat. “Not at all.” He finishes the flask.

—————————————

“Show yourself!” Achilles shouts. Patroclus stands back to back with him, armed with a pickaxe from the mines.

“I don’t think you’re in much of a place to be making demands.” The voice echoes from every corner of the greenhouse.

“Funny, I disagree.” Achilles whirls and throws his pick axe through the man’s chest. His body dissolves as if it’s made of smoke.

“Could’ve questioned him,” Patroclus says.

“What would we ask? ‘Who sent you?’ Take a wild guess.”

Patroclus shrugs. “There’ll be more of them.”

“So we don’t let our guard down. Let’s get going, Pa-“

“Argh!” He yelps.

“Patroclus!” Achilles whirls. A bowman from the roof. “To cover!” He grabs his lover’s hands and drags him to the nearest wall, out of the range of the archer’s arrows.

Patroclus clutches his shoulder. “If I hadn’t moved, that would’ve gone through my chest,” he states. “Warn Persephone. I’m alright.”

Achilles nods. “Keep your eyes open. There’s no way he’s alone. I won’t be long.”

He runs along the wall. He glances up at the ceiling. The archer is gone. He runs for the exit, then the entrance to Persephone’s greenhouse. An arrow strikes the ground at his feet. He dives in the door and slams it behind him. “We were followed,” he announces.

“So we discovered.” Persephone’s vines wrap the ground and up the wall, where a man dangles by his wrists. “Orpheus is-“

The door opens, Patroclus stands in its frame. Achilles runs to his side. “I told you to stay behind.”

“There’s more of them. They were going for a better shot on me, so I ran.”

“Your arm...”

“Is fine.” Patroclus answers. “Where’s Orpheus?”

“Here! A hand, one of you?” Eurydice calls from the opposite wall. “He’s hit.” They both run for Orpheus.

Persephone’s captive screams. “I’ll ask again. Who sent you?”

“Hades!” The man yelps. “Please!”

“I knew it,” she snarls. “His orders. What were they? Be exact.”

“Any man who kills Orpheus won’t have to work for the rest of eternity.”

“How many are after him?”

“I don’t know!” He cries. “Please!”

She tightens the vines around his throat and the man vanishes into ashes.

“Is he breathing?” She calls to Orpheus’s aids.

“Yes,” Patroclus replies. “He’s only been hit in the leg.”

Persephone nods. “I’ll hold the doors.”

Orpheus groans. “I know, I know,” Eurydice murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“I need to get the arrow out. Give him something to bite down on,” Patroclus tells her.

She stuffs a piece of cloth into his mouth. “Bite.” He does.

“Hold him down.” Orpheus screams. “Almost there. And it’s out. Hold pressure. Right here.” He guides Eurydice’s hands over the wound. “Press hard, don’t let up,” he tells her. “I know it hurts, Orpheus. Focus on Eurydice.”

“O-okay.” Orpheus chokes out.

“Achilles, we’ll need strips of fabric. One of the blankets should be fine. Tie a tourniquet above his wound. Apply pressure. The bleeding will stop.”

Achilles begins to tear a blanket. “Your shoulder, Pat.”

“I’m alright.” He presses a hand against it.

“No, there’s an arrow through your arm. And love, that’s what Hades has on us. If you die, you’re stuck on the banks of the Styx forever. I’m afraid... we’d never see each other again. An eternity without you... I don’t want to imagine it.”

“Okay, okay. Give me a piece of that blanket.” Achilles does. “When I take the arrow out, it’ll bleed. If anything happens, I’d recommend you leave me behind. Hades might let me live, if I say I’ll give him information and you won’t be burdened to carry me.”

“You know I won’t leave you here.”

“Yeah, I thought that might be fruitless.”

“You’re gonna want to see this,” Persephone calls. Achilles stands.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Patroclus.

“Look.” Persephone points at the roof. An arrow whizzes and the bowman standing on it falls. “Someone wants us to make it out.”

“Or someone wants to take us alive,” he says, grimly.

Something drifts down from overhead. A scrap of fabric, maybe. It lands at Persephone’s feet. A cloth carnation. Beneath it, a note: “Hermes is coming.”

#hadestown au #hadestown fanfic #hadestown #therainbowwrites

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ratcarney · 4 years

Text

come home with me (remix)

introductory installment of my new nytw modern au! eurydice is locking up for the night after a successful open mic event, but the sole patron left in the café throws a wrench in her evening plans.

fic written with help from @joyfulsongbird, @teethnoblezada, and @ivegotaheadlineforyou!

———

“are you fucking kidding me?”

eurydice didn’t look up. she knew the voice from the many nights he spent at the café. orpheus had become a bit of a fan favorite. hermes himself said that the only reason he kept the open mic nights were because of orpheus and his “magic voice.” eurydice nearly got run over by young women craning their necks to see him every friday.

he did have a lovely voice. she would admit that.

the fact that he flirted with her incessantly? not as lovely.

eurydice set the broom against the counter and checked her phone. no notifications. nothing new there.

“you don’t understand—“

eurydice looked up. orpheus seemed to be arguing with someone over the phone.

it was hard to feel sympathy for such an arrogant kid. she couldn’t remember a day since that first open mic night when he hadn’t come into the café, trying some elaborate plan to get her to talk to him. one week, he tried a different pickup line every day. eurydice’s favorite was thursday’s line: “is your name eurydice? ‘cause you’re the only ten i see.” the best part was the sheer incomprehensibility of it.

at least they had developed a substantial rapport, in spite of orpheus’s many failed attempts to court her.

a few feet away, orpheus shoved his phone back in his pocket and ran his hand through his hair. if he wasn’t the only other person in the café, eurydice wouldn’t have pried, but it would have been too awkward if she didn’t say anything.

“what’s wrong, pretty boy?” eurydice asked, the mirth in her eyes betraying the mocking frown on her face. “your girlfriend break up with you?”

orpheus looked at her, then to the side.

“did the drugstore run out of hair gel?” eurydice tried again. “oh! i’ve got it. you broke a guitar string and now the spell that gave you your magical musical powers is broken. what a shame.”

to her dismay, he didn’t have a flirty retort. eurydice narrowed her eyes.

“is...” her voice softened. “is everything...okay?”

“i haven’t paid rent in four months.” he said. his voice was far from the showman’s croon he usually adopted when speaking to eurydice. if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was embarrassed. “i just got evicted.”

“evicted?” eurydice repeated.

orpheus looked up at her, eyes half-lidded and uncharacteristically hopeless.

“i assumed you were a trust fund kid. old money parents, you know.”

“of course. what gave it away?” orpheus leaned back onto the counter. “was it the ripped jeans? the thrifted jacket?”

“some rich kids are like that.”

“i wouldn’t know.”

“poor you.”

orpheus crossed his arms. “your sympathy means so much in this trying time.”

the words “glad i could be of assistance” died as soon as eurydice registered the tears in his eyes. “hey. i...i’m sorry.”

orpheus shook his head. “whatever.” he sniffed, regaining his composure. “i...i know a guy. i’ll be fine.” outside, the evening drizzle turned quickly into a downpour. eurydice heard him curse under his breath.

she shouldn’t have, but she felt bad. and her evening plans weren’t much—just to curl up with a book back at her apartment.

her semi-warm, dry, apartment.

“come home with me.” the words flew out of eurydice’s mouth before she could stop them.

“what?”

“come home with me.” she said, slower this time.

orpheus blinked. “you don’t even like me.”

“yeah, well.” eurydice started taking her apron off. “i’ve been where you are. sleeping on the streets is never comfortable.”

orpheus raised an eyebrow. “you? the princess of the songbird café, sleeping on the streets?” his tone was teasing, but she could tell he was surprised.

“i can revoke my offer at any time.” eurydice glared at him. she wasn’t fond of thinking about the past, but she could tell orpheus was more upset than he let on. after a month or so of seeing his face every day, she knew when he was off his game.

“if you’re sure.”

“of course i’m sure. i offered, didn’t i?”

orpheus’s façade cracked a little. “thank you, eurydice.”

she came out from behind the counter. “don’t mention it. i’ve just got to lock everything up first. you know hermes. he’ll kill me if i don’t.”

orpheus nodded. “i’ll wait for you.”

he sat on a stool as eurydice went through the motions of closing the café. once she was finished, she shrugged on her jacket and flipped up the hood. “got a heavier jacket?” she eyed the thin red leather thing he wore all the time.

orpheus shook his head. “i wasn’t expecting rain.”

eurydice wrinkled her nose. “it’s april.”

“your point?”

she shrugged. “it’s your funeral.”

orpheus smirked and followed her out of the building and onto the sidewalk. “you know, a pretty girl like you leading me into her apartment...what will the neighbors think?”

“offer revoked in three...two...”

orpheus relented. “okay, okay. i’ll shut up.”

“thank the gods.” he was behind her, but eurydice could hear the smile in his voice as he conceded.

“i don’t have a car,” she told him. “and it’s a bit of a walk. i can duck in the café again and get hermes’s umbrella, if you want. he won’t mind as long as it’s in its place when he comes in tomorrow.”

orpheus shook his head, but the rain was soaking his dark curls, leaving them sad and shapeless. he looked like a drowned puppy.

“i’m getting it. give me a second.” when she returned, umbrella in hand, his gratefulness was palpable.

“thanks.” he said through clenched teeth.

together, they walked from the café to her apartment.

“sorry about the walk. it’s only a few blocks away now, promise.” she could see him shivering out of the corner of her eye.

“i’ll follow you to the ends of the earth if it means i have a roof over my head.” orpheus replied.

eurydice smiled.

they arrived to her apartment at around eight o’clock. she led him up a few flights of stairs before finally opening a door at the end of a hall. she looked at him, but he motioned for her to go inside first.

“and they say chivalry is dead.” eurydice muttered to herself.

orpheus dipped his head in response, shaking out the umbrella before walking inside with a little sigh.

“it’s not much.” eurydice looked around. a tiny kitchen area, a bathroom, a few bookshelves in a living room area, and a small bedroom made up her apartment.

“doesn’t matter to me.” orpheus said gratefully. “right now, it might as well be the parthenon.”

eurydice chuckled. “the parthenon?”

“once a classics major, always a classics major.” he said, taking off his jacket and then decidedly putting it back on.

“no way.”

“oh yes.” orpheus shook his head. “for a whole semester.”

eurydice tilted her head. “did you drop out?”

orpheus nodded. “had to.”

“money?”

“yeah.”

eurydice nodded, slipping off her tennis shoes. “i don’t have another bed, but i do have a little sofa. i can get you a blanket or two, and a pillow.” she changed the subject, something he seemed thankful for.

“that would be amazing.”

“coming right up.”

as she disappeared into a closet to find orpheus some bedclothes, she heard him walk over browse the bookshelves.

“i haven’t seen this many textbooks since i was in high school.” he called. “why do you even have these?”

eurydice returned with a pillow and a few throw blankets. “i go to school.”

“for what? fucking rocket science?” orpheus flipped through a heavy textbook.

“physics.” eurydice replied.

“really?” orpheus raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “physics? i would have never guessed.”

“you don’t exactly look like the spitting image of a classics major, yourself, you know.” eurydice teased. “i’m majoring in physics and minoring in computer science.”

“wow.” orpheus looked at her with a new respect in his eyes—and maybe a little intimidation. “what are you doing working at the songbird, then?”

“it pays moderately well and i get good tips. school’s expensive.”

“don’t i know it.” orpheus replied quietly.

“oh.” eurydice winced. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have—“

“don’t worry about it. i’m not.”

eurydice didn’t know what to say back, so she didn’t say anything, and instead focused on making up his bed. orpheus pitched in to half heartedly fluff the little pillow and place it against one of the sofa’s armrests.

“this is perfect.” he smiled at her. “thank you so much, again.”

eurydice shook her head. “really, it’s nothing.” she narrowed her eyes. “but if you try anything, you’ll be out of here before you can even apologize.”

orpheus chuckled, but when he looked at her again, his expression was serious. “i’ll be good.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

eurydice knew there was truth in his words. he arranged the blankets just to have something to do.

“goodnight, eurydice.”

eurydice looked at him one last time before retiring for the night.

“goodnight.”

#let’s GOOOOO #im so stoked about this #jo.fic #jo.posts #hadestown #hadestown nytw #hadestown musical #nabiyah be #damon daunno #hadestown au #orpheus and eurydice #orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #songbird café au

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