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𝙿𝙴𝚃𝙴𝚁 .
none of it had been easy. the planning, the leaving, and the lying to roman – it all broke him to some degree. all peter had wanted was to do what was right, both by letha and her baby. but doing what was right always seemed to come with some sort of price. especially when it came to doing what was right with the godfrey family. sometimes peter wonders how differently his life would have been if they had never stepped foot back in hemlock grove. but then again, he’s not sure he’d change a second of it either.
being a child himself trying to raise another child wasn’t a step he had planned on taking, but instead had dumped into his lap. he’s not complaining now, though the first few years were wrought with plenty of complaints and peter feeling like he couldn’t do anything right at all. but eventually he fell into his role as father like nadia was his own flesh and blood. and eventually he forgot that she wasn’t.
but there were things peter couldn’t help with. things even lynda and destiny couldn’t give advice on – things only roman or the godfreys would be able to help with. and peter would be damned if he’d ever let olivia near nadia. thinking back, peter wonders if things could have been different with this entire situation. if roman could have changed his mind and taken nadia and cared for her. if peter could have just stayed and offered his support to roman instead. but the past was in the past now. what was done was done, and peter had yet again done what he was best at and ran. this time with another life in his hands.
by the time roman reaches the door, peter has already had numerous scenarios run though his mind. most of them involved having the door slammed in his face or his face being met with a fist – neither he could say he’d blame roman for doing…if roman was even there at all. but as soon as the door opens, peters questions are immediately answered by roman standing and staring at him like he was about to snap his neck in half.
the silence almost feels like peter could just push through it like a thick curtain settling in between them, and he’s just hoping that roman says something…anything. his eyes fall over the other briefly, noticing only subtle changes in the way he looked – did these assholes even age? there’s a split second where he thinks roman may just shut the door, but he’s surprised when he finally speaks up. a breath peter didn’t know he was holding slowly releases.
“ fuck you, ” he says in return with a tug of a smirk at the corner of his lips. he can feel the peter from six years ago trying to unearth himself again, and he wants to embrace him like an old friend again. but not just yet… “ you gonna invite me in or did you lose what little manners you had to begin with too? ”
the ball is in roman’s court, at least to an extent, enough that he could ease the tension between them with a heartfelt laugh or at the very least a smile —— but instead his jaw clenches, brows remaining furrowed as he studies peter’s face. he mostly looks the same as he did before, though perhaps more rounded out, grown into his features and less like a rail like he did before. part of roman wants to let it go, to smile and laugh again with him, throw his arms around him and pick up where they’d left off. it’s the kindling rage —— that godfrey temper —— which keeps him from doing so. not even the smirk or the insult turns him around, though the twitch in his lips says otherwise. perhaps peter hadn’t noticed. roman gives a slight nod of his head and opens the door wider, backing away from it to allow peter all the invitation he’d need. once he’s convinced himself that peter’s not here to try and murder him, he turns toward the kitchen, leaning over the counter to face the werewolf again. “ you want a beer or something? ” his casual demeanor is almost deceiving, countered by the way his fingers curl into his palm. he’ll get the niceties out of the way and figure out what the hell peter wants before he gets too angry, he decides. he lets the silence linger again, trying to not be impulsive as usual, but his indecisiveness over choice in words makes him sound just as rash as if he hadn’t taken time to think it over. “ seriously though, what the fuck? ” he doesn’t know what to start with —— the way peter had just left after everything, the way he’d lost everyone close to him in a single swing, or the lack of communication with his supposed best friend over the past six years. “ you could have —— i don’t know, not fuckin’ ghosted me? ” he won’t share how he’d thought that peter might be dead or any of his other 3am fears, just swallows and stares him over with a deepening frown.
“ so now what? you’re crawling back here because you want something? just guessing. whatever it is, the answer is no. ” his lips press together so tightly they nearly disappear from his pale face altogether, and despite his apparent rage, roman drops his gaze, staring instead at his thumbs hovering over the counter. it’s only after several seconds that he lets his expression soften with a slow exhale, though he doesn’t look back up at peter, voice dropping, though still tinted with the same anger as before. “ i fuckin’ missed you. ”
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𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝙞'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮
indie. pri. sel. mcu based JAMES BUCHANAN BUCKY BARNES. ( carrd ) est. 2014, revamped 2021. adored by bee.
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𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 /
six years.
six years since he was still young and dumb without a clue in the world about what he was doing. six years since he met his mother and cousin on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere so they could hand a newborn baby off to him and part ways. six years since he turned his back on the only best friend he ever had. and six years since he became a father (non-biological but father regardless) to a little girl named nadia.
he never thought he’d come back. hemlock grove had stopped being home the second roman crossed the line. looking back, peter understood roman’s fear. they were young, stupid…and peter can’t say in roman’s shoes he wouldn’t have suggested the same thing. the only difference was, he hadn’t been in roman’s shoes, he’d been in his own. his own stupid shoes, because he quickly learned that raising a baby wasn’t easy. but he knew that – lynda had warned him, told him everything she could about a baby, bless her. and while they had both gone separate ways for safety, she was always just a call away when nadia wouldn’t calm down and peter was pacing a hole in the floor.
but now he was watching the welcome to hemlock grove sign pass him by as he headed to the only place he hoped was still standing in that godforsaken town. lynda had set up a place for them all to meet so she and destiny could visit with nadia while peter went to do…all of this. because honestly, peter wasn’t sure what he was walking into. when he’d left, roman was changing and the stories that lynda and others told him about the godfrey family made him wonder if he wasn’t going to drive up to nothing but ash and a long forgotten home.
his eyes quickly adjust in the almost setting sun just over the hill as the house comes into view. it all looked almost the same really. only a few differences – cars, plants, new paint…but still the same somehow. there’s a hesitation when he reaches the midway point of the driveway, his foot hovering over the brake for a split second. there had been no plan to this, so he’s basically focusing on every ounce of strength he has inside of him to get up the driveway.
finally he pulls up beside a sleek and probably far too expensive black car. which he assumes by the look of it is a new car of roman’s…or whoever he has living with him now. suddenly a sense of dread passes over peter, unsure how he’s even going to start any type of explanation of where he’s been or what happened. for all roman knows peter was heartbroken and needed some time away after losing letha…and the baby. he just forgot to mention the part about wanting to keep letha’s child safe from roman and olivia and essentially kidnapping her. yep, peter was officially a kidnapper and no one but his mother and cousin knew about it. well…no one else yet anyway.
there’s at least three minutes where peter just sits in his car, surprised no one has shown up to drag him out by now. it makes him wonder if roman is even still there honestly. but then again – it has been six years, he has no idea what he’s even walking into. nonetheless, he still eventually makes it to the door, hand only shaking slightly as he brings a finger up to ring the doorbell. he’s not going to just turn back now. // @saturnsdust …my hand slipped
the anger had subsided mostly over the past six years. it had started like a child’s tantrum, a rage that no words could console. he’d lost everything, he’d lost everyone. letha was gone, shelley had disappeared, his fucking cunt of a mother the cause of so much of it, and though she’d been severely punished for her actions, she somehow still managed to walk as though nothing had happened. but the thing that truly pushed roman over the edge was peter. in the first few weeks after everything had settled, he had made silent prayers to some unnamed god, wishing first for peter’s untimely death for having been so selfish and leaving, later wishing he could propose a trade with fate. but none of it worked, not that he believed any of it truly would. instead he screamed and drowned his sorrows the only way he knew how to. but no amount of white powder, blood, or alcohol would cure the hole left by peter leaving. olivia stayed far away from him, shelley eventually returned ( though she too found her own way to avoid their mother ), and the despair of letha’s death slowly felt like less of an ache over time. roman was so focused on controlling his hunger that he rarely had the time or energy to properly grieve, and as the months passed, the anger washed away. it didn’t get rid of the hole that was left, but at least he wasn’t throwing a complete tantrum anymore. as months turned to years, roman gave up any hope that peter would return, anger turned to bitterness, and the longing became something easy to ignore. it’s a cold night, some nearly six years after the insanity of that spring, his birthday creeping up again without a single plan in mind, when his mundane routine is interrupted by a dream. he’s taken comfort dethroning his mother and reclaiming godfrey industries, rarely speaking to her unless by absolute necessity. thoughts of peter have been forcibly buried —— until he shows up in roman’s dream. the childlike tantrum fit comes back almost immediately, satiating his hunger with hopes that it had been some side effect of upirism. no such luck. he spends the day at home, trying to push the images from his mind, to stop thinking about wolf who hadn’t so much as sent him a fucking text message. fucking asshole. but calling peter any number of names doesn’t seem to help. he’s about to dive into his long since untouched stash of coke before he hears a car pull up in the drive. not expecting anyone, anxieties come creeping out, sure that it can’t be anything good. by the time he gets to the door, he’s convinced himself it had just been the mail truck, but before he can peer out the window, the bell rings. roman freezes, hand hovering over the door knob with hesitation. something was connected here, and he suddenly feels his dream ( a memory, really ) had been a warning of sorts. two days ago, the surprise would have been enough for him to shut the door in peter’s face. now, as he opens the door, he does so knowing exactly who’s on the other side. silence lingers still as he stares him over, taking him in. finally he breaks it though, swallowing. “ couldn’t have sent a fucking text first, huh? ”
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@hopecarved sent: “you need to unclench your asshole.” ( cora @ malia)
“ You’re acting like I’ve never had fun before. ” Jeez. But despite how irritated she sounds, there’s a grain of truth in Cora’s statement. It’s been a bit difficult to focus on fun when every time she turns around there’s another something going after them all. Things are different now though —— she’s not in Beacon Hills anymore, she’s in Brazil. It’s the first time since coming back down here that they’ve gone out ( granted, it’s also Malia’s first night down here in months, hence the cause for celebration by going out ). Last time she let loose at a club was in Mexico. “ It’d be a hell of a lot easier if we could have a drink. Fine, I’ll bite. Teach me how to dance Brazilian style. ”
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so malia has been lowkey on my muse list for a while but i’ve been too lazy to flesh her out ....unTIL NOW. buM bum bAHHHHHH. so she’s got a shiny new googledoc and i changed her fc and she’s ready to roll !!
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the past is our definition. we may strive with good reason to escape it, or to escape what is bad in it. but we will escape it only by adding something better to it. ─── zloslwy, a supernatural horror based fbi agent written by gemini.
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Adria Arjona being unfairly pretty as Five in 6 Underground
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I spent a long time in London on the stage, and you knew exactly what you were going to be doing. You not only knew the performance, but you also knew exactly where you would stand.
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“we gotta finish this, you and me.”
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hey there all! i’ve updated my muse list to reflect some recent changes removed: finn (he is now on his own blog @rebeltroopr) added: eliot waugh from the magicians (book based) i’ve added a few others semi-recently as well, so if you haven’t looked in a while, i’d suggest taking a look! anywho, activity is still pretty low from me overall, but those are the main changes right now.
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Love me a man in denim 👅💦
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𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗦 𝗔 𝗝𝗢𝗞𝗘? poison ivy, mother earth’s new priestess. ( mutuals may reblog, art credit )
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Sirens | 1x01 “Up, Horny, Down”
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draco .
@saturnsdust
‘’ ———– i’m bored. ‘’
“ ‘kay — you expect me to fix that? —— yeah okay same. so what’s the craving of the day? ”
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