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hollywoodx4 · 4 years

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The Dress

Yes hello I’m apparently not done writing about the wedding, I have a lot of soft feelings. Also, Annika and I are meeting tomorrow and I still can’t even believe it, so have a fic to celebrate. -Danielle

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They’ve come on a Sunday morning, Orpheus and Eurydice, to the tiny house on a large plot of land. It’s a lazy sort of day, the drive out calling for old songs on the radio to be sung at full volume, the excitement of the news they have to share on both their lips although Orpheus is sure that their Christmas night won’t be such big news to their audience at all. His Amma’s house feels like a safe-haven; there is an immediate sense of peace when they walk up the path made of mismatched, hand-painted brick, covered in snow that’s been carefully shoveled away. Demeter greets them with unmatched joy and ushers the young couple in from the cold, taking their coats and scarves and draping them along the wooden banister of the staircase. A baby goat romps around, its hooves clicking on the wood, and Eurydice bends down to pet it with a restrained, confused sort of affection. Orpheus laughs.

“That’s Sunny, the new baby.” It’s half an explanation Eurydice accepts, Demeter calling them from the kitchen and wrapping them both in a tight embrace. She looks over Eurydice with careful eyes and the young girl takes the hint, nodding and placing a hand over her stomach in reassurance. Everything is more than alright.

“We have good news!” Orpheus begins before they can even settle, Demeter bringing them cups of tea. Eurydice holds hers gently, feeling the warmth radiate through her mug. Orpheus sets his immediately on the counter, thanking his grandmother before gesturing to Eurydice with pride.

Eurydice sits at the kitchen island, grinning wildly as Demeter takes her hand, examining the flash of the little diamond against the light. Orpheus rambles animatedly, a truly lively retelling of the night just a few days before; “I didn’t know what was happening-she said she had something to tell me and I thought it might be something bad but I wasn’t sure, I was mostly just nervous. And then she told me she was pregnant, and I know that you knew it-you always know-but isn’t it amazing?”

Eurydice chuckles, shakes her head as she watches Orpheus pace around the kitchen, gathering wildly, stopping only to lay his head on Eurydice’s shoulder. He brushes his cheek against hers, gently wraps his arms around her middle.

“Do you like it, Amma?” Orpheus gestures to the ring, a sort of whispered softness to his voice as he looks at it, in awe himself that it’s on her finger. “I bought it from the guy you said-the one who makes his own bands. He was really nice, he said to tell you hi. He helped me pick it out. I was a little lost, but you were right-I knew when I saw it.”

Demeter feels the warmth of her grandson’s words, the security that comes from Eurydice, who basks quietly in his embrace. The newly engaged couple, bursting with silent, intimate pride over the anticipation of the daughter she can so clearly see in their future, spend a moment suspended in this pose. She shows her approval by nodding, squeezing Eurydice’s hand.

“It’s truly wonderful, Orpheus.”

“And he thinks I’m going to let him ‘replace it with something bigger’ when he can. Tell him he’s crazy, please. This is what I want.”

“While we’re here,” Orpheus blushes, diverting the subject as the positive attention, while welcome, becomes far too encompassing for his humble heart. “I’m going to get the eggs for you.”

He unwraps himself from Eurydice and moves to the kitchen counter to grab an old wicker basket, laying an old cloth in it before stumbling nervously out the door. Demeter watches him go-watches Eurydice grin, looking after his retreating figure as he makes his way toward the coop. It’s a task he’s been at since he was just barely able to walk, when Demeter begged for a chance to watch him. Every Sunday morning they’d come, Persephone and Hermes, toting a wide-eyed Orpheus. He’d spend his time trailing after her, running his hands gently along her rows of crops. He’d pluck cherry tomatoes from the vine as soon as they were ripe, popping them in his mouth and puffing his cheeks out.

Getting the eggs was his favorite job-he’d bend to greet each chicken, the toddler singing songs to them about the names he gave them, or even while he was removing the eggs from their nests. “Thank you for your eggs, thank you for your eggs, hi-ho-dairy-o thank you for your eggs.”

It’s a song Demeter can still see on his lips before his figure retreats past their vantage point.

Eurydice shifts in her seat then, a soft smile still engulfing her features in a beautiful sort of peace. She runs her hand gently through her cropped hair, looks around the kitchen with curiosity at the knick knacks that line the shelves, not unlike the strangely sensical amount that Orpheus keeps in his-their apartment. There are little things-the way she seems to speak with the entirety of her heart, the way she makes Eurydice feel immediately at home-Orpheus is surely a product of her in his own way, there is no denying their similarities.

Demeter moves to the space in front of her, catching her attention as she taps her fingers twice on the counter. It’s a gentle sort of gesture, as most of the older woman’s quirks seem to be. She tilts her head slightly at Eurydice, lets out an involuntary hum.

“Do you have any plans for the wedding yet?”

“Not yet,” Eurydice responds, moving her hand to her unchanged stomach. “We want to wait until after the baby is born, give ourselves some time to adjust to it all. Well, he would get married tomorrow if he had the choice. I want to wait-plan.”

“He’s a rare kind of soul-always has been. I really hope that you know that all of this has made him the happiest he has ever been. He can barely contain himself-if it were his choice, he’d have told everyone he knows by now.”

Eurydice laughs-yes, she knows this. She can feel it in the way he dances around her, wakes up with his arms around her stomach, caressing the invisible changes. She feels it in the way he kisses her good morning; lingering, unwilling to leave her side without trying his hardest to procrastinate. And when he tells her he’s proud of her, leans on the bar and sends her copious amounts of seltzer as she studies, takes frequent breaks to sit beside her and ask how she’s doing…Eurydice is well educated on his kindness, even when she finds it hard to believe that this open, honest love is hers.

“Any ideas for a dress?”

“God no,” she laughs. “The more I think about it, the more I think I should wait. I don’t want to choose something when I know what’s about to happen to my body.”

Demeter shrugs, a dimpled lift of her lips and a lift of her hand.

“Why don’t you try one on right now? Nothing major, just a little something I have laying around. Maybe it’ll give you an idea of what you want.”

Eurydice agrees, takes Demeter’s outstretched hand and follows her up the creaking staircase to a tiny, pantry-sized room holding a sewing machine, baskets of yarn, and curtain rods across the walls to store rows of old clothing. She rifles through the mass of denim and bohemian patterns until she comes across a white dress, sheer fabric mixed with smaller, opaque bits. When she moves it from the rod, holds it up to show it off, Eurydice gasps. Intricately sewn into the difficult fabric is a glimmering gold thread-simple, yet absolutely glowing with the reflection of the sun. They are constellations-gatherings of stars and lines into simple shapes, some she recognizes while others feel foreign and wonderous.

She reaches out a finger to trace the threading, mouth slightly agape in wonder. Demeter watches carefully, prods her once more.

“Just try it on-you never know.”

She does know.

The moment Eurydice feels the fabric on her body, looks down at the mixture of pure white and soft gold, she feels a tug in her chest, a slight skip in her heart. She opens the bathroom door to find Demeter in immediate tears, grabbing her hands and holding her at arm’s length.

“It’s yours. I knew it was yours, but seeing it on you…really, it’s something magical.” Eurydice is at a loss for words. She moves down the hallway, an ethereal being, consumed with the feeling of suspension between reality and a dream. When she finds the full-length mirror, Demeter has begun the same sort of rambling often heard through Orpheus’s lips, although hers is lighter and more controlled.

“I’m not saying that It has to be yours-you can make your own choices. I just felt in my heart while I was working on those constellations that this dress would belong to someone special.”

“You-you made these?”

“I did, a long time ago.”

The day is beautiful; mid-spring, the weather just turning to warmth and continual sunshine. The winter’s snow has long since melted, making way for canvas shoes and well-worn sandals. Birds chirp thankfully, and a few soft clouds paint the sky in picturesque beauty. These days are her favorite; Demeter, who walks with an ambling gait down the old dirt road connecting bits of her small town. There is a purpose, but time is not a battle in this life, merely a reminder of when the day will turn dark and the chickens will need feeding.

The girl, young in the softened features of her face, runs her hand absent-mindedly over her protruding stomach as she reaches the center of town. She isn’t too far away-a spring baby is what she’ll have-the first day, when the earth reaches the point of equity and evenness. Having the comfort of both knowledge and belief in her soul helps the pregnancy pass peacefully helps Demeter connect with the baby that will become her magnificent little girl. It’s been a strange journey thus far; she hadn’t been brushed off by the people in this small community, but she’s been asked, time and time again, exactly what she’s going to do as a single mother.

“Easy,” she’d reply, with her well-known grin of boundless optimism. “I’m going to live.”

Living has been simple-peaceful. In the time since she’s known she was pregnant, Demeter has gotten to know herself as more than a single entity, falling into the path she was meant to take. She feels whole, new. The aching in her bones serve as a reminder to her that this is real-that the yearning and the waiting are about to be repaid in a lifetime of unparalleled love. It helps her move forward, sit with the choice of a life without the family she’d grown up with; the mother back in the city, unwilling to move past her own comfort zone and living to shame her for making the same mistake that she’d made. But living this pregnancy at nineteen years old is not a mistake to Demeter-neither is her move to the rural town, or the new command over the tiny farm she’s learning to manage through her nana’s thorough journaling.

Today, Demeter walks through town with the confidence she’d gained upon meeting its people, making herself known as someone who enjoys the slower pacing of life. She comes across the same thrift shop she’s frequented since she moved to town-tiny, indistinct apart from the racks of clothing brought outside its entrance, meant to draw people in. Demeter doesn’t need the draw-she finds herself here at least once a week, leafing through clothing and books with careful precision. She chats with the owners-an older couple who’d been good friends with her grandmother and in turn take care of Demeter, her spitting image. When she enters the shop, an overwhelming amount of peace surrounds her. She settles herself in it for a moment, humming softly to the baby in her protruding belly, and begins her journey.

It doesn’t take long for her to find it.

There’s a dress hanging between a woolen trench coat and an old army jacket, a delicate sort of thing against two harsher fabrics. She feels the light weight of chiffon, sheer and magnificent, and holds it between her fingers as if it will break. She brings the dress out to hold it in front of her, examines the way it falls so gently from its hanger. It’s simple-pure white, flowing sleeves and only a slight bit of shape at the waist. Once Demeter holds it in her hands, however, she can’t seem to let it go.

“Found something you like today?” The older woman, with white hair braided behind her head, brings a finger to the dress in her hands.

“There’s something…special about this dress.” She can’t quite place her words, brought to a stunned silence even more so by the simplicity of it all. To her plain eye, it’s just another white dress. But to her heart, there is more within it that she’s yet to place.

“Why don’t you take it?” The shopkeeper grins, closing both her hands over Demeter’s. The young girl’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. But before she can say much more the dress is folded and placed in her canvas bag, and she’s back outside the shop. “I’m sure you’ll make use of it yet.”

The words of the older woman ring through her mind as she continues her errands, the light weight of the seemingly magical dress feeling heavier with the knowledge that it is there. She stops to gather a few more things; nails for the garden bed, feed for the chickens. When Demeter returns home, she finds a small parcel on her porch-a little box, wrapped in cloth and addressed to her with only a card from her neighbor, thanking her for bringing over a small assortment of her own crop.

“We thought you might be able to make use of this-it doesn’t really have a place in our collection.”

Sitting on the porch, Demeter opens the box to find the sun shining down on some glimmering gold thread-beautiful, unique. It captures the light and keeps it within itself, radiates its warmth. She holds the spool, turns it over in her hands, entranced by the softness of it all. Where it could be a flashy show of overpowering glimmer there is simply a glow about it-something special, something different.

She thinks about the spool of thread as she finishes her day’s work-repairs a row of stakes in the garden, feeds the chickens and collects their eggs. When the day is done her feet are aching, her back pinching from the combined weight of the physical labor and the work of growing a baby. She starts a small fire in the woodstove and makes a cup of tea, reflecting on the day at hand. In her lap, she holds the white dress from the shop; there’s no way it will fit her now, not in this state. Looking at it, she knows that it’s not meant for her-no, this dress is not her style, her taste. But the pull toward it was not mistaken, this she believes in the same way that her soul told her she was meant to have this journey of joyful solitude in the country.

She remembers the gold thread.

Demeter rises from the couch, still feeling the aching in her bones, and gathers her supplies in a peaceful sort of hurry. The day has fallen so neatly into place, so carefully, that she begins to understand that coincidence has only ever been a disguise for truth in her life. So she sits, dress in hand, and threads the gold through a small needle. She decides to begin at the heart, looking around for inspiration.

And there, open on the rickety, hand-made side table next to the couch, is the book she’s been thumbing through, open to the last page she’d been reading before bed the night before.

Demeter finds an immediate release of the soreness of her muscles through this gentle exercise, through the patient work of embroidering tiny stars and lines. She finishes the night by tying off her thread, admiring the handiwork she could still use a bit of practice at. At the heart of the dress, from the inspiration of the latest book she’s gotten from the thrift shop, the Orpheus constellation stands out amongst the white.

“I would love to wear this dress.” It’s an immediate decision; Eurydice turns in the mirror, the gold constellations-more than the Orpheus it had started with-stand out as stories to be told. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am-it was made for you. I don’t believe that pattern over your heart was put there by accident.”

Eurydice is not one to cry openly-has never been. The show of emotions has been seen only as a sign of weakness throughout her life, and she’d become very good at storing everything away. Since Orpheus, however, that visage has been harder to keep. Whether it’s the feeling of loving and being loved or the hormones within her body, Eurydice finds herself tearing up as she stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She can barely look away, doesn’t want to spare a moment away from the reality of it all.

“Demeter, I.”

“-Hush, flower. You know you can call me Amma.”

“Amma,” Eurydice corrects herself, soft alto stumbling over the familial intimacy of the name. “I can’t thank you enough. It’s beautiful.”

The months come and go in a blur; Eurydice is a victim of time, organizing her life with careful detail so that she does not fall behind on any aspect of her work. Demeter lives slowly. The young couple comes to visit once a week, Eurydice taking in every bit of Demeter’s child-birthing knowledge as she attempts to teach her grandson some skills in handiness. She helps Eurydice find her footing; describes birth plans and various options, keeps an honest forum of open questions that the young, occasionally frightened girl uses often.

In the summer, just before Melody is born, Demeter offers her house for a wedding venue.

“It may not be what you’re looking for,” she shrugs, pouring glasses of lemonade for Orpheus and a very pregnant Eurydice. “But it’s home.” They’re sold on this, Demeter bringing up a pad of paper and a pen to draw out ideas for the yard, little ways they can spruce it up to make it fit their needs.

When Melody is born, their weekly visits to Amma’s turn into time spent at their own home, Demeter making the trek into the city to watch lovingly as Eurydice holds her chubby-cheeked daughter in her arms, cradles her and kisses the top of her head, feels that motherly love driving her to keep her eyes trained only on the baby. The older woman talks her through the little things; taking care of herself, making meals to freeze from her latest harvest so they don’t have to worry about cooking. She’s the visitor who stays; who uses her knowledge as a doula to be sure that Eurydice remains physically healthy, who answers her questions with a sort of truth decipherable through her own sort of cosmic, fate-driven speech.

It’s the second Sunday after Melody’s birth that Demeter asks Orpheus to run out and get something at the store-she isn’t even sure what it is, or if they truly need it, but he leaves without a second thought. Demeter sits herself next to Eurydice on the couch-the young mother, not much older than she was when she’d had Persephone, looking exhausted yet bubbling over with love for her child.

“I have something to show you,” She says, pulling the long white dress from inside of her bag. Eurydice gasps; the wonder of the dress she’ll wear in just a few months has not yet worn off-she’s not sure it ever will.

“I’m not going to do any alterations yet, but I did make a little change.” Truthfully, she’d added the masterfully stitched shape a while back, the day that Eurydice had tried the dress on and she’d known the soul of the chubby-cheeked infant still inside of her. She’s stitched it on the hip of the dress, a placement unmistakable to the bond the first of their children will have with Eurydice.

The young girl runs her fingers along the artfully-made constellation, tipping her head in an attempt to understand just what it might mean.

“Leo,” Demeter explains, putting a thin, delicate hand on Melody’s back. “For her. This little one, attached to your hip, the way it was meant to be.”

There’s a moment of silence-of natural pause, adoration as Eurydice fully admires the hard work that has gone into each pull of thread through difficult, sheer fabric. Then, it comes to her-swiftly, easily, somewhat surprisingly against the lack of tradition in her own heart. With this family-with the feeling of love surrounding her without pause-there is no better time to begin honoring the things she never thought she’d have.

“Will you walk me down the aisle?” She’s not unsure of the question, but her past holds back the tone of her voice, mutes it to a wobbling sort of whisper. “Persephone already is, but I just-I think I want everyone to know how much you both mean to me, everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t have a woman to look up to for most of my life. I didn’t get that privilege. Now, I have two. And I want my daughter to live with these examples of women who’ve spent their lives lifting other people up-the women who found me and guided me and let me into their family with open arms. I need Melody to know that her family might seem a little makeshift on the outside, but that you all mean so much more to me than blood ever could.”

Demeter, tiny freckled body and a head full of wild curls, shakes her head yes before wrapping herself around Eurydice and Melody, kissing the cheek of her grandson’s soon-to-be wife and holding the back of her head. This moment-the tender stillness of it all-is something she never saw coming, and something she will never forget.

#hadestownmodern #hadestown #demeter #eurydice #orpheus #orphydice #wedding

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you-want-stars · 4 years

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assorted modern au things part 2: electric boogaloo

orpheus and eurydice have six children. i haven't come up with name for the first five but the sixth is named edward. by then they'd given up and just let hades and persephone name him.

this:

persephone lives in a small apartment and she has so many houseplants and they all have names

hades is really really good at doing hair and makeup

orpheus is nonbinary

hermes made a tik tok account as a joke because eurydice kept talking about it (she doesn't really post on there but she loves watching them). he made a couple of dance videos as a joke, they went viral, and now he has over 31 million followers

hades is an AMAZING artist

persephone either dresses like a hippie from the 60s or a rich businessman there's no in between

orpheus tells everyone he likes older/obscure music but he's secretly a taylor swift stan

eurydice is SO STRONG she can bench press orpheus EASILY

hades and persephone also have a son his name is theo and he was an accident

for years persephone joked about starting a baking blog (you know those ones that have long ass stories before each recipe) but when her cakes started getting loads of likes on instagram she decided to actually make it a thing. now she's in the process of writing a book and people keep trying to persuade her to make a tv show. she secretly loves it.

bonus:

#theo is a reference to the superior modern au #go follow @hadestownmodern everyone its the best #hadestown #modern au #my posts #people liked the last one of these i made so have some more ig

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whorphydice · 3 years

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In you’re au do ypu think any of you’re characters such as Orpheus or Eurydice and maybe Demeter might take up knitting or something like that as a hoby?

Hi hello!

If you are referring to the @hadestownmodern au the answer is yes! I've actually attached the fic I'm about to talk about, but yes! Demeter actually knits blankets for wedding favors for Orpheus and Eurydice's wedding, and Eurydice tries to help.

In other AUs/context I have definitely had Orpheus be a knitter. Big knitting energy with that one. In all of my other AUs actually, Orpheus is a knitter/crochet king/ sewing man

Fic mentioning it below!

https://hadestownmodern.tumblr.com/post/190721471824/wedding-toasts

#Hadestown au

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venussheglows · 4 years

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@dilforpheus @hollywoodx4 @hadestownmodern

Hi! I read your ADORABLE fic and immediately knew I had to draw these two. I really hope y’all like it!! 💕

#this fic made me :D #IT WAS SO CUTE #laf.art #hadestown #orpheus #hadestown modern au #reeve carney #broadway #musicals #broadway musicals #anais mitchell #chicken #fanart

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incorrectfmaquotes · 4 years

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You mentioned you're excited for some fic's to update. I'm just curious which ones!

Well, they aren’t FMA fics, so I don’t know if you’d still be curious. I will say that they are for Ace Attorney and Hadestown.

If you or anyone is still curious about them, I’ll edit this with the titles in.

EDIT: Someone was curious.

For Ace Attorney, there are these 2 klapollo fics: The Time Klavier Gavin Got Bullied By A Sixteen Year Old and No Faking What You Feel. They actually both just recently updated. I’m also gonna include a fic that just recently ended, the golden hours, which is a Wrightworth story, but other ships do get a fair amount of airtime in it.

And in case anyone wanted to know the Hadestown fics, it is No Turning Back Now and the @/hadestownmodern au on tumblr

#isnt-it-pretty #asks answered #rosie speaks #now that i think about it #it has been a while since i checked out the royai tag on ao3 #maybe i'll get on that today

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spilladrop4hadestown · 4 years

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top 5 hadestown aus

1. @milfeurydice The Babies AU (Winter and Ophelia)

2. @rollingthunder06 Sparkling Diamond AU

3. @ourladyoftheundcrground 1920’s AU

4. @hadestownmodern Modern AU (look at Annika on my list twice!)

5. Is it conceited to put the 1940’s Noir AU I’m working on? I can’t say that it’ll be as good as the ones above, but I’m just really excited about it and I’m having fun with the concept.

My mind went blank on AUs that are out there. I mean if you’ve written Hades/Persephone anything, I’ve read it, I love it, I just can remember all of them at the moment. There are so many talented writers in this fandom and I love reading all your stories.

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rollingthunder06 · 4 years

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I wonder, what is your favourite Hadestown fanfiction?

ok so this is a loaded question bc I have SO many favorites that I literally cannot pick just one. but I can list some of my favorites for you!

ok so, brandy’s ( @ourladyoftheundcrground ) wait for me au, rockstar AU, and twenties au. fun fact, the rockstar au is the first one I ever read for hadestown! i love brandy’s writing sfm

@spilladrop4orpheus ‘s canon myth fics are AMAZING and I love them dearly. but then again everything she writes is freaking awesome so. and @hadestownmodern ! I LOVE THIS AU SM. i re-read it constantly bc it’s that good and it’s also one of me favorite modern aus

@dilforpheus has written some of my absolute favorite fics, and I love both her aus

@bleuaceofsparrows ‘s songfics are some of my favorites bc they are so poetic and are beautiful pieces to read.

if i think of anymore I’ll add them!! trust me there are plenty more I just didn’t want to make this post too long

#rt answers

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ladyproserpinas · 4 years

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21, 41, 57, 65

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

i've been in love with chris evans since i was 9, so i don't see that changing anytime soon.... even though he has horrible taste in sports teams.

41: What was the last book you read?

last book i picked up was three dark crowns by kendare blake

last book i actually read in it's entirety was destroyer of light, which is the sequel to receiver of many, by rachel alexander.

57: How many relationships have you had?

officially, one. it lasted three months in freshmen year of high school.

besides that i think like ..... 2 or 3 casual relationships.

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

i left out a shitton of people but like literally i would not be following you if your blog wasn't one of my favorites.

@milfeurydice - because she is my soul sister, an amazing writer, and an absolutely smart and amazing person. and who else is going to cry with me over river song in the year 2020. her and her friend danielle's au @hadestownmodern is also amazing.

@bigprincess-energy - because there is absolutely no one as funny as oli and we are blessed everyday to have her in this fandom, and she's going to end up taking over the world one day just watch her.

@waitformereprise and @perscphcnies - gif making goddesses, like seriously teach me to color. I'm in awe whenever they post something.

@josephseeds-rosary - because g is amazing and has the best taste in video games, she creates amazing ocs and i just adore her.

#anon posts #asks

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kenzierose53 · 4 years

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Did I just go back and read the entire @hadestownmodern saga because I am stressed about my exam on Friday? You bet your ass I did and I don’t regret a second.

#im procrastinating

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joyfulsongbird · 4 years

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What's your favorite fanfiction recently? One you're actively waiting for updates on? (also I just like moodboards)

MOODBOARD 4 YOU

i’m not following a single fic perhaps but i do follow @askthedustbowl and @hadestownmodern both FANTASTIC au’s that EVERYONE should go read up on!!

#underwater0phelia asks #moodboards

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hadestownmodern · 4 years

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Junie Meets Melody

(posting for Annika while she’s in the car...this is her space to say something...this fic made me cry and I love it and I love her. The end)

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“Now, baby, what are the rules again?” Persephone prepped, carrying her four year old through the white halls, the sterile smell unsettling at the least. Her grip on her shifted as she held Junie even closer to her. It had been thirteen years since she last stepped foot in a hospital setting, and even so grief wrapped around her heart and squeezed as she took the elevator up a few floors. Even after over a decade, it was a muscle memory, to the labor and delivery floor. This time, of course, was remarkably different. She had always left empty handed, nothing to show for the pain, the suffering, and the heartbreak. There was something empowering in knowing that the first time she stepped floor on this floor in thirteen years, she had her daughter. The daughter, who against all odds, existed. And then, of course, there was the reason they were here: Orpheus, Eurydice, and their new, healthy daughter.

Junie lifted her head from Persephone’s shoulder, nodding excitedly. “Don’t be too loud and don’t try to grab the baby.” She blinked innocently at her mother, identical brown eyes catching each other’s. “I thought we were bringing presents?”

“Good girl.” Persephone kisses her daughter’s curls, managing to avoid eye contact with nurses who knew Persephone personally, pushing her anxieties further into her chest. “Presents? Oh, well, baby, I wanted to bring Eurydice something to eat but it’s too early for anything to open.”

Persephone arrived to the room Orpheus had instructed her to, and gave Junie a little bounce. “You ready?” She smiles at her, leaning her forehead against her own as she knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited for Orpheus to open it.

The door opened within seconds, Orpheus standing there, tear marks still streaming down his face. HIs eyes were puffy from crying, but he had a smile brighter than Persephone had ever seen etched almost permanently into his face. He wasted no time before wrapping his arms around Junie and Persephone both, a new round of tears falling into her hair.

“She’s perfect, she’s so perfect and Eurydice is incredible and-” He rambles a little, pulling from the hug as Persephone extends a hand to wipe his tears, a warm smile on her own face. “I’ve never been this happy in my life.”

“Ophie!” Junie giggles, holding her arms up to him, a silent request to be held by him instead. “Ophie I missed you swimmin’!”

He holds his hands out to Junie, who’s lunging at him, and holds her on his hip. He notes mentally what a difference it is, to hold his toddler semi sister, semi niece, now that he’s held a newborn. “I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“It’s okay Ophie, mama said you had to be with ‘Rydice. ‘Rydice is important.” Junie pats his face in understanding, before wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

“Rydice is very important.” Orpheus agrees, flashing another smile at Persephone. “Buggy, you wanna come see my baby?”

Junie nods, clapping her hands excitedly. “Come on mama!”

Persephone laughs lightly, but nods. “Lets see that baby of yours.”

Persephone is not sure what she was expecting when she followed Orpheus the extra steps into the little hospital room.

Eurydice, laying back on the pillows, with a tiny baby flat on her chest, her hands both holding her little clothes-less baby to her skin should have been it.

Eurydice is not looking up, her thumb rhythmically tracing the baby’s cheek as she stares at her, entranced with her girl. Even under the striped hospital hat, Persephone can see the little peaks of dark brown hair peeking out.

“Hey little mamas, how are you feelin?” Persephone whispers, a soothing edge in her voice that is reserved for her children in their most vulnerable moments.

She has tears in her eyes when she looks up at Persephone, her voice catching in her throat. “I did it.” Is all she can get out, before the heavy hiccup of a cry bubbles through her voice. “I did it.”

“Of course you did, baby, of course you did. I never doubted that you could.” Persephone’s hand cups Eurydice’s cheek, her thumb rubbing away the tears spilling from her eyes. She leans down and kisses her forehead gingerly, whispering again to her. “I am so so proud of you, Eurydice.”

Persephone leans back smiling at Eurydice and trying to blink back tears of her own. “Does she have a name yet?”

“Not yet.” Orpheus chimes in, bringing Junie from the window where he had been pointing out his apartment in the distance, to hover on the other side of the bed. He kneels, bringing Junie to eye height with Eurydice. Eurydice nods, her hand still firmly planted on the bare skin of her daughter’s back.

“This is our baby, Junie.” Orpheus whispers, an awe in his voice unlike anything Persephone had heard before. She suspected that awe inspiring love would be all consuming for the foreseeable future of Orpheus’ life.

Junie’s eyes almost immediately go wide, and she reaches out a little hand. It is impossibly gentle, the way this four year old hovers her hand over the baby’s. Eurydice nods, a gentle encouragement, as Junie reaches a little closer and Melody’s fist reflexively wraps around Junie’s pointer finger.

“Hi, best friend.” Junie whispers, her other hand ever so gently touching Melody’s hat covered head, eyes going even wider when the baby moves at her touch. She scrunches her nose when she sees Melody’s face, and innocently whispers across the bed to her mother. “Mama..why does she look like that?”

“Like what, honey?” Persephone muses, her hands pushing back Eurydice’s bangs absently as she watches her daughter interact with the baby.

“I thought she’d look like a baby doll, but she isn’t very cute, mama.”

“Juniper!” Persephone lectures, her voice raising just a little in disapproval. “That's not very nice.”

“Her face is all squishy!” Junie defends, gesturing at Melody for emphasis. “Rydice is so pretty, why isn’t her baby pretty? Rydice i’m so sorry! You should have a pretty baby.”

“Juniper Beatrice that is enough-”

Eurydice though, is laughing. Laughing in a way that makes her shoulders shake, laughing in a way that has her eyes squeezed shut as she wheezes. “No, no, it’s okay. Junie’s right. I know she isn’t very cute yet, Junebug, but she’ll get there. It doesn’t make us love her any less, just because she looks kind of funny right now.” Eurydice promises, reaching a hand up to hold Junie’s. “She’ll get there.”

“I think she’s beautiful.” Orpheus murmurs, trying not to show offense at Junie’s harsh criticism of his newborn.

“She’s my best friend, even if she isn’t very cute.” Junie assures, tilting her head to the side so she could be face to face with the baby.

Eurydice sits up, and looks at Orpheus with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Do you want to hold her, Bug?”

Junie nods rapidly, holding her arms both out expectantly. This causes the adults to laugh, as Orpheus stands.

“Orpheus is gonna hold you if thats okay..” Eurydice explained, as Orpheus settled in the chair beside the bed, holding Junie on his thigh. “Seph, can you take her over there..” She gestures towards Melody, as she peels her from her chest and cradles her in the crook of her arm, “walking isn’t my friend right now.”

Persephone only laughs, before gently taking the infant from her mother. She looks at her for a few seconds, already able to see Eurydice in the shape of her mouth or in her nose, something she left out after Eurydice acknowledging her appearance. She revels in the feeling of a new baby in her arms, something she had long since forgotten the feeling of.

Persephone stands infront of Orpheus and her daughter, watching as Orpheus settles his arms and Junie reaches hers out. He is gentle in the way he instructs Junie to keep her arms down, nodding at Persephone as she starts to lower Melody into his, and therefore Junie’s awaiting arms.

Junie is enraptured almost immediately, her tiny finger tracing the baby’s nose. “My best friend.” She cooes, leaning down almost immediately to kiss her nose. “I love you, best friend.”

There is something natural in the way Orpheus immediately responds to fatherhood, in his knowing ability to coach Junie through holding his daughter. It came from the practice of Junie herself, as well as inherent instinct within him.

“She loves you too, bug, look how quiet she is for you.” Orpheus assures, kissing Junie’s hair gently. “She loves you.”

Persephone has the thought to take a picture on her phone, one of both Junie and Orpheus beaming at her, but another which is more candid, of both of them looking down at the baby with nothing but adoration on their faces.

She settles on the edge of Eurydice’s bed, running her hand over her arm. “I brought shots, but now is not the time is it?”

Eurydice snorts as she shakes her head. “Not the time. I don’t think the baby needs shots on the first day of her life, do you?”

“I can agree. Maybe next weekend.” Persephone teases, kissing Eurydice’s forehead again before grabbing the throw blanket at the end of the bed from her home and tucking it around her.

Time passes with idle chat, Persephone inquiring more after Eurydice’s health than anything, even declining the offer to hold the baby herself. “We’ll be back later, Hades, my mama, and Hermes will want to come.” She promises, coaxing Junie to give up the baby. “Come on, we’ll be back soon… lets go back to sleep at home, your daddy should be gone for work.”

Junie relinquished the baby, and eventually agreed to leave after many rounds of hugs to Orpheus and Eurydice.

Persephone is carrying her out, heart fuller and happier than it had ever been as she left a hospital.

“I know what her name is, mama.” Junie announced as they walked out of the building and into a local coffee shop. “But amma says they have to pick it!”

“Amma didn’t let me pick your name.” Persephone muses, but indulges Junie anyway. “And what is her name, baby?”

“Her name is Melody, mama.”

#hadestown #hadestownmodern #orphydice #young parents orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #melody #junie #persephone #persephone and eurydice #annika writes

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hollywoodx4 · 4 years

Note

Modern headcanons?

Today on nobody asked for this are some facts about DEMETER.

-Demeter chose to raise Persephone alone. She was young. She had her parents’ tiny farmhouse. And she just knew in her heart that she was meant to raise a baby alone.

-and because of her gift, she knew Persephone before she was even conceived.

-Demeter, being unashamed of anything and friends with everyone, ends up befriending a beekeeper that comes into town once a week for the farmers market.

-she full on just asks him to help her. And it takes him going home and thinking about it, but he agrees. Because again, Demeter is friends with everyone and she is also very wholesome. She says things were meant to align in the universe? They were.

(Especially. I’m going to say it. Young Demeter was hot. Young Demeter has a lot of young Donna Sheridan energy, but without the three potential fathers and with a lot more yoga, smudging, goats, and cosmic energy.)

-they could’ve worked out, they really could have. But Demeter knew that she was meant to do this alone. And she doesn’t regret her decision one bit. It was meant to be just her and Persephone together.

(He signed a release of his parental rights too-Demeter may not like the idea of lawyers but she sure as shit covered her ass. She didn’t think he’d try and go for custody, etc, but. It needed to be done.)

#hadestownmodern #hadestown #demeter #my GIRL DEMETER

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hadestownmodern · 4 years

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omg have they ever done a family painting with a twist

If you’re persephone every event is with a twist.

But they never do specific things like that but every once in a while Seph breaks out the good wine. It’s a wild tike bc Hermes drinks responsibly, Orpheus is a light weight, Hades only drinks EXPENSIVE drinks, and Eurydice is just thankful to drink.

-A

#eurydice #hadestown #orpheus #hadestownmodern #persephone #hadestown modern #hadestown modern au #hadestown au #hades #hermes #headcanons

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hadestownmodern · 4 years

Text

Fight (1/?)

You said angst? Here’s part 1/? of pre-baby Orphydice angst for you!

This will probably get a title change too at some point....

-Danielle

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

Eurydice jiggles her key in the lock of her apartment door, clouded vision and faulty craftsmanship making the process twice as arduous. The lock seems to scream back at her in response; a refusal to enter, a why are you here? A frustrated groan escapes her lips. Eurydice jams the key back into the lock with force, jerking it side to side and pulling on the doorknob until it flies open under her strength. She slams it behind her, throwing her bag on the floor with a huff and setting up the long, pole-like master lock with a second-natured sort of unease.

Turning to face the shoebox studio apartment, Eurydice feebly attempts to shake off the tears that now spill over, run down her cheeks and her chin without so much as a warning. It’s been so long since she’s been in this place for a night, so long since she’s had to settle herself on the lumpy mattress on the floor. She can’t bring herself to it, to the place she’d spent so much time wondering how her life would turn out-if she’d ever get out of the place she’d worked so hard to afford for herself.

Being back is a slap in the face-a failure in more aspects than just a simple move.

She treats the night as a permanent settlement not to add on to her pain, but to cut down any sort of possibility or optimism she might have. It’s easier this way, she thinks, to find finality in it all. Abandoning hope before it settles in her heart is easier than losing it unwillingly. She’d started this mess, tangled him in her web of doubts and insecurities, in the inner workings of her mind. She hadn’t been able to shut herself up, had been too loud-to sharp-too unforgiving. She’d been everything that her father had said to her all those years ago, everything her mother had tried so hard not to be. In an instant, Eurydice finds herself wishing that she weren’t so similar to the woman who taught her to ride a bike-who listened to her sing and brushed her once long, cascading waves of dark hair while whispering words of love. She wishes she weren’t like the woman who couldn’t be saved from herself.

She holds on to her rounded stomach. She wishes.

Shuffling around, Eurydice has to reach back into the not-so-distant depths of her muscle memory to recall where everything is. There are several smaller things in her bag, things she’d reached for with the vision of boxes outside of his door, of it’s over, of seeing him only while passing their child back and forth. The possible instability is the last thing Eurydice had wanted for the child she’s just gotten used to longing for, and now that shifting vision her anxiety had created is quickly becoming a reality.

He’d be the better parent. She knows this from the softness of his voice, the natural instinct to hold, to love, to nurture without so much as a thought. Orpheus is the one who’d helped her learn to love-not only him, or their child, but herself. Without him, Eurydice feels a shakiness she hadn’t felt since childhood-since her father had willingly let her go time and time again.

It’s better to run before being thrown out.

Eurydice sinks down onto her bed; the tiny mattress in the corner of her studio apartment can’t be classified as much else, but she’d been proud of it. Now, it feels inadequate. Tucking herself in , feeling the empty space beside her, the weight of her changing body feels much heavier than it had been. Thoughts of a baby lying beside her-tiny, fragile, helpless-in this space barely even suited for herself has her cringing. Being a mother isn’t something she’d planned for; it’s a thought that had grown comfortably on her as time wore on, as she’d become attached to the idea of a little family. Every vision in her head had included she and Orpheus as a team and then slowly, as two people that would grow together for as long as they’d live. She’d let herself succumb to those thoughts of undeniable comfort. She’d let herself feel too deeply.

She’d ruined things once again.

She can’t handle the idea of taking off her ring-the thin band with its tiny stone fit on her finger as if it were meant to be there. The thought of giving it back hurts more than anything, and it makes the bed cold, the apartment darker and more frightening. She coughs, a sputter through her choked back tears. Her body shakes as she lets her feelings consume her.

---

Orpheus is a wreck; he walks into the bar ten minutes late for his shift, Hermes staring at the clock wondering where he could possibly be. His boy-responsible, hard-working, self-critical-had never been late to work before. Eyes red and puffy, lips forced into a shaky smile, he slips his apron from its hanger and ties it clumsily around his waist. He is a fumbling mess, cocktail shakers and ice scoops falling from typically skilled hands. Hermes watches him carefully-the way his long limbs trip over themselves, the way his voice is low and quivering as he talks.

Persephone slides onto a stool near her pseudo-brother with one eyebrow raised, her eyes trained where his is. Their son slides her a glass of red wine with a quick greeting before focusing back in on his work. She whips her head around to Hermes.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He was late today. On top of that he’s nearly broken three or four glasses and it’s only been half an hour. He’s not right.”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?”

“I haven’t asked.” He shrugs, effortless, without excuse. Persephone straightens her posture, clears her throat. Hermes sighs. “Sister, he’s old enough for you not to go meddling. If he wants help, he’ll,”

“-Orpheus, you look like shit.”

Her blunt nature has her son turn around, caught with wide eyes like a deer in the headlights. It’s then that both Persephone and Hermes are able to see the line of puffy red skin beneath his eyes, the expression both vacant and overrun with thoughts.

“’Rydice’s upset.”

“She’s upset?”

“We got into a fight.”

“Is she upstairs?” Persephone stands up from her stool, stretching her shoulders and grabbing her purse. Orpheus moves quickly to the front of the bar, one hand out to stop her.

“She went home-not home, not our home. She went back to her old apartment.”

Hermes is hit with the passing sight from earlier in the day-Eurydice clamoring up the stairs, unlocking the door only to return a moment later with a bigger backpack, half-opened, her feet moving slowly back down the wooden stairs. She hadn’t even said hello to him as she’d passed, wiping fervently at her eyes and keeping her head low. He hadn’t thought much of the sight then-Eurydice had been coming and going from here to school to her multiple jobs since Thanksgiving weekend. He hadn’t let himself see the minor details the way he does so easily on his son. Where Persephone would have stopped her, he’d let her go.

“Persephone,” his tone is gentle, but still warning. He puts a hand on her shoulder and she shakes it off. Younger, stubborn as long as he’d known her, Persephone stays true to form as she puts a hand on Orpheus’s shoulder.

“What did she do to you?”

“Persephone,”

“She has your child, Orpheus. She has your child and she has your ring, she can’t just run off like this.”

“She’s not running.” His words are laced with doubt but he stands his ground, as unsettled in his own truth as he is. Flying to her defense is as easy as loving her had become; her dark eyes filled with admiration, the way she laid lazy in bed with her head on his chest. She craved more than holding his hands, her body pressed close to his. She spoke softly to him and harshly in defense of herself. She kept her guard for everyone but him, it had seemed. She’d been so short with him then that he hadn’t known exactly what he’d done wrong. He’d been hurt by her quick, lashing words, the way her gentle demeanor had turned dark and cold, how she’d left him standing in the store by himself. The moment felt like one long, hellish nightmare. He thought he’d been doing things right for once. He’d been blindsided.

“I can’t do it, Orpheus. I can’t.”

“You can’t do what?”

“I can’t accept her pity. I thought-I thought she was different, and now she’s throwing her money at us? I just,”

“’Rydice,” He’s a soothing presence, his hand running up and down her arm.

“We can do it on our own. It might be hard, and it might suck for a while, but we can do it. We don’t need handouts or pity.”

“She just wants to get something for the baby.”

“You see things through your own lens, Orpheus. She doesn’t think we can do it. She doesn’t think I can do it, and she’s probably right. People use their money to make their own futures and to manipulate everyone else’s.”

“She’s not doing that.”

“I didn’t grow up knowing what it was like to have money. I didn’t grow up getting new things every time I asked. I barely grew up with enough to eat. You need to understand that we can’t afford these things-we’re not going to be able to give this baby the life you had.”

“The-the life I had?”

“Orpheus,” She huffs, taking a frilly dress from his hands and holding it up to eye-level. It’s a beautifully crafted dress, a muted pink made from fabric that feels more like butter in her hands. There’s a matching diaper cover, all ruffles and frills, and the ensemble brings a pin-prick of mist to her eyes. “We can’t afford all of this.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.” He stops then, eyeing the dress Eurydice had put back on the rack. The basket full of tiny dresses and bows and shoes is everything he’d been hoping for, everything he’d dreamed about since holding Junie for the first time. Eurydice has a far-away look in her eyes, a glassy cloud rolling over the adoration they’d had when she’d first held a newborn onesie.

“We can’t keep pretending that this is normal-we’re not some thirty year olds settled perfectly into their little white picket fence marriage. I’m broke. We met a few months ago. We’re getting married and we’re getting to know each other because of this baby and I’m sorry that this is what you’ve got, but it is.”

He stops short, unsure of how to respond. The information has barely registered, thrown at him all at once through a voice grown suddenly cold. He’s taken aback by her-the way she steps further from him, refuses to look in his direction. The air is thick between them, Orpheus slowly opening and closing his mouth as he attempts to craft a response that’ll bring her back to him.

“That’s not why I asked you to marry me.”

“Orpheus,”

“-is that why you said yes? Because of the baby?” His voice squeaks at the last syllable, disbelief in his shortened breaths. Eurydice is not able to answer him quick enough-the hesitation in her thoughts is unbearable, a crushing blow to his heart. He’d been told time and time again that he moved too fast-fell too hard, loved too openly. A sweet boy-a kind soul- but a too much personality. Orpheus looks at the stack of clothes in their basket. A onesie boasting about the best dad ever stacked right on top, picked out by a grinning Eurydice.

He pulls a handful of hangers from the basket and thumbs through them, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“I’m going to put these away.”

“Orpheus,”

“-It’s okay.”

“I didn’t,”

“-I have to go to work. I,” he hesitates upon the three words he’d said too soon, nervous about driving her further away. He can’t see the way she leans in subconsciously, the way her eyes close and her lips part slightly. When she opens them again he’s kissing her cheek, his hand on her hand. “Think about it.”

He’s not even sure what he means by the phrase, only that for the first time since meeting her, he wants to step away from Eurydice for a moment. Before he can get out of the store Eurydice’s sent him a text, and he stops short to read it over in hopes that the words might change.

“Staying at my place tonight. I’m sorry.”

#hadestown #hadestownmodern #orphydice #young parents orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #danielle writes #and posts to the wrong blog for the thousandth time

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