#interaction: peter rumancek

[lostliketearsinrain]

@evanave asked: “ we can share the bed. it’s just for sleeping, right? “ / college verse to peter

He let out a grumbling sound at that suggestion. He debated with himself whether there was any use in going back to the owner of the small in they were staying at and try to explain again that he had asked for two bedrooms. But either the old man didn't understand him - though boasting at times with being half-Italian, Peter was anything but fluent in the language - or they he really didn't have another bedroom.

"No," he finally found his words again, still staring at the bed that was actually even too small for him alone. And there wasn't much else in the room, a little shelf that looked like it wouldn't even hold the weight of a book and a wooden stool that he didn't trust enough to sit on. The room was incredibly small. He could only walk sideways to walk past the bed to reach said stool.

He let his hand run through his hair and looked at his student. Evan was still carrying the huge backpack and he looked pretty much beat. No wonder he was tired, they had been hiking since noon and now it was late evening. Peter was exhausted too and he knew they both needed sleep, desperately. Yet, he still debated whether it was possible to sleep anywhere else than in the bed with his student. But it was a plain fact that there was no room for him to lie down, not on the floor next to the bed, not outside the room. There wasn't even a hallway, the door opened to stairs leading down.

He sighed and his gaze turned to the blond boy who looked as if he was about to drop with exhaustion any second.

"Fine," he muttered in defeat because he too was damn tired. "We'll share the bed for tonight and I'll try and find some other inn for the next nights tomorrow." Only that he already knew that this village didn't offer any other place to stay.

He set down his backpack, then helped Evan to find a place for his - only that there wasn't any really.

"You can have the blanket," of course, there was only one blanket, "I'll sleep in my clothes." He tried to get to the door, which meant that his body was pushing past the boy's and he had to grip him by the shoulders to keep him from falling backwards. "Sorry," he mumbled, but his hands remained on the blond's slender shoulders for a bit too long. "I'll wait outside if you want to change."

[lostliketearsinrain]

"It's okay. It's --" He tried to calm her, but it was too late; she was already holding her sweatshirt up to his face, standing on her tiptoes to reach it, and her big eyes gazed at him full of concern. He took the piece of clothes down from his face, gently squeezing her small hands, holding them in his for a moment. "It's not my blood," he said. Yeah, he shouldn't have come here like this, not when he'd just been in a very very ugly fight. But he had to come, he had to make sure she was okay. But instead, she was now the one worried about him. What a strange girl. What a strange lovely girl.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ " y ---- your nose is b --- blee --- bleeding pretty h --- heav -- heavily . " valerie points out , delicately tilting their chin up to see the extent of the damage done . she did not really have anything with her to help , only the sweatshirt around her waist . without even a thought , she undoes it , bringing it up to staunch the bleeding ; it could be washed , this was an emergency . ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[poisonpunkking]

——- Roman slowly approached the wolf in their usual spot, some place in the forest they found together. ❝  so — are you going to back out on me ? ❞  he questioned, before saying anything more. ( @hisfragilehero )

[untamedlobo]

Still thinking about how never got any closure or acknowledgment or any sympathy about the fact that Peter was legit tortured for a whole day and half and then came back to no one caring or saying anything other then Destiny touching on him and trying to push him on some unknown adult male to “fix” his vargulfness and yet did not ask about why he was limping and openly bleeding and skittish .

[taleswritteninterest]

Please like or reply if you are interested in interacting with Peter Rumancek from the Hemlock Grove universe. This means I can spam you with memes and tag you in starters using him. Likewise, you are free to do the same.

[lostliketearsinrain]

"No." One word, muttered in a low growl. And yet, the blond gazed at him with this stubborn look in his eyes; his chin up, he met the man's glaring eyes. And there was something else than defiance in those bright blue orbs: courage and a strength that was unlike anything.

His large hands gripped the boy's shoulders. He lowered his face.

"Don't." His voice a throaty whisper. "Don't argue now. You'll stay. I need you to be safe."

OPEN TO: mutuals

"You can’t do this alone, let me go with you."

[endfght]

does that hurt ?

teeth clenched, jaw set tight ⸺ peter's focus shifts from the linoleum floor to the one-handed white-knuckled grip he had on the edge of the table. a twitch comes with every poke of the needle, warm wetness matting his hair down against the back of his head. he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, throbbing headache medicated with the joint held between his fingers. ❝ if those assholes didn't sneak up behind me⸺ ❞ quick breath sucked in through his teeth at the feel of @gruvies finishing off yet another round of at-home stitches. memory of a bottle over the back of his head comes and fades quickly, the aftermath of the jumping that he'd been on the receiving end of leaving him curled on the ground at the mouth of an alley. how he managed to stumble home still a mystery, awoken from a half-sleep by lynda's complaints of blood on their pillows. drowsiness creeps in, not helped at all by the smoke exhaled through his nose; a sting follows, and through a wince he straightens his back and turns, albeit slowly, to face his mother. ❝ they at least fix it from the last time ? ❞

[succubustacy]

Unholy Resurrection (Jennifer Check x Roman Godfrey)

WARNINGS: mentions of murder, foul language, and mentions of sexual activities. (Not much for now🌝)

Summary: After the chaotic murders in Devil’s Kettle, Jennifer Check relocated to Hemlock grove for a “fresh start,” that is until she finds herself drawn to a local crime scene where she encounters the duo who would now become her problem.

a/n: This has been in the making for months now but I was scared I wouldn’t do it justice. While I feel I could’ve done better, I was really excited about the idea and couldn’t wait any longer than I already have.

After the killings that took place back in Devil's kettle, the accusations started and my best friend, Needy, got sent to a mental institution. For my senior year my mom thought it'd be a great idea to move down to Hemlock Grove, Pennsylvania, and graduate with people I couldn't give a shit about. She said it could be an opportunity for a "fresh start," as if the very thing I was running from wasn't buried deep within me.

So here I am. New school. New corpses. Same killer taste in boys and blood.

So far the school hasn't been completely tragic. At least the school here is big enough to have a cheer team instead of just color guard. They do have a lot more to do here compared to Devil's kettle. Plus, the morsels here aren't too hard on the eyes.

In attempt to clear my head of the tragedies of this year, I found myself wandering into an empty park. This wasn't just any park though. Silent. The grass was wet, holding memories of someone's daughter fighting for her life last night. Another small-town tragedy. I'm not unfamiliar.

My heart quickens as I realize i'm no longer alone in this park, two tall silhouettes appearing out of the thick fog not too far ahead. Men.

I swallow hard, shoving my thumbs into the front pockets of my jeans as I make my way over. "Is this an initiation?" I say cooly attempting to be unbothered as I try to get past them as I got closer.

They turn their heads in unison in my direction. One has jaw length hair with facial hair, I recognize him as the guy people were saying was a werewolf. Peter Rumancek. All sharp edges and slouchy defiance.

The other is significantly taller and polished like money. Tailored coat, bloodline carved into his cheekbones. I've heard his parents own the tall tower that looks over the whole town. The Godfrey institute, The Godfrey kid. Even with the lack of light, I could see they were both good looking.

The taller one narrowed his eyes as if he was staring through me not at me,"Did you do it?" He accused. Roman was his name. He was twisted, his mere gaze sending shivers down my back.

It seems they had been accusing each other of the murder that took place here last night.

I scoff a playful smile tugging at my lips, "yeah totally, wanna hear how I did it?" I ask sarcastically, tilting my head slightly. Peter snorted, clearly amused. Roman doesn't laugh. Doesn't even blink.

"Then the hell are you doing at a crime scene at midnight." His voice razor sharp, accusing. I roll my eyes looking over at Peter who seemed to find Roman's accusation just as stupid as I did.

"Same reason you guys are." Was all I said. Of course, I'm sure we were all here for different reasons.

"Are you sure it wasn't you?" Roman asked looking back at peter.

"You can try and contain your disappointment." Peter sneered.

"Then who was it?" He asked as if we would somehow know.

"Bear, cougar, creative suicide." Peter listed, causing me to stifle a giggle, tracing my finger tips along my bottom lip softly for comfort. I look over at the play house where the murder had happened, avoiding their eyes.

I could hear the insects not too far into the trees chirping, the night breeze causing me to shiver, along with this interaction.

"It's weird, I knew her." Roman hesitated slightly before continuing, "I mean I didn't know her, but to see her at parties and stuff. She liked my car.”

Peter looked at his shoes, "It's- it's a nice car." It is. I've seen it parked outside of the school, all the girls swooning over it.

Roman looked at peter with an unreadable expression, as if he wasn't sure he should say what he was about to say, "I also knew your uncle Vince," Roman continued, Peter's head perked up sudden interest appearing on his face. "He did some kind of work for my mom. She denies it but she's so full of shit." He shakes his head. "I liked his stories. Girls would get pretty freaked out, but girls, ya know." He cocked his head in my direction, his voice trailing off like a dare.

I grimaced in annoyance rolling my eyes. I didn't know whether to leave or not but I had to admit, I was intrigued, maybe because he was a specific kind of yummy, but who knows.

Peter looked up reminiscing hiding a tight lipped smile, "Yeah, that sounds like Vince." He breathed nodding softly.

I shuffle my feet a little, glancing over my shoulder at the thick fog covering the tree line.

"what's it like? living like, you know, you people" Roman asked studying him up and down.

"You people?" Peter echoes. I watch the corners of his mouth twitch. "I guess there's always something over the hill I gotta see," Peter says quietly.

I open my mouth to say something, when red and blue lights cut through the mist, along with a siren.

Police.

"Shit," Peter mutters, ready to bolt.

We freeze. Roman, annoyingly calm, holds up a hand. "It's fine. Don't run." He reassured.

Peter and I share a hesitant glance. It's not fine.

But we stay.

The officers get out, flashlights raised. Roman steps forward like he's walking into a stage cue. One of the cops squints through the beam of his flashlight. "It's that Godfrey kid."

"You know it's a school night," the second adds.

"I'm a night owl," Roman replies, bored.

The first cop snorts. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Am I disturbing anyone, officer?"

"Other than a dead girl's murder site?"

Roman doesn't blink. The second cop points past him, towards Peter and I. "So who's that with you?"

"We were having a conversation," Roman says casually, stepping slightly to the side.

They just stare at him. "About what?" The officer interrogated.

"About the mysteries of mortality." I couldn't see Roman's face but I already knew he found this beyond amusing.

"Okay, come on. Let's go." The officer gives up hope of a conversation, taking a step closer to Roman as if to arrest him. But Romans quick and leans into the officers face, "But my old lady's gonna be a pain in the balls." Roman says dangerously stern.

There's a pause.

The cops eyes rounded out as if he'd seen a ghost staring into Romans eyes. "His old lady's gonna be a pain in the balls." the cop repeated nodding softly.

"What?" his partner asks, confused.

"It's true," Roman shrugs looking over at the other officer.

Oh what the fuck.

The cop shakes his head, muttering under his breath. "Spooky fucker." Within seconds the cops were walking back into their car in a trance like state, like puppets. The engine turns over, the lights fade, and they were gone, like they were never here.

Peter and I look over at each other cautiously and back to Roman, our mouths slightly agape in disbelief and confusion.

Roman turned around to face us once again, a smug smile plastered on his face. Peter takes a slow step back, eyes still wide,"How'd you do that?" he insisted.

Roman just raised both hands high, feigning innocence. "Do what?" that smug smirk still prevalent, until a drop of crimson blood collected at his nose before dripping down.

Peter took another step back, then abruptly turned and sped-walked into the shadows.

I jerked my head toward where he'd disappeared, heart ticking up a notch. Slowly, I looked back at Roman, watching as he brought two fingers to his face, smearing the blood like it was nothing more than a nuisance.

I clench my jaw tightly, my nostrils flaring slightly at the sight. "You're not gonna attack me, are you?" I asked, suddenly dry-mouthed. My voice was steady, but my stomach flipped.

Roman tilted his head, almost annoyed. "I just helped you. You're welcome." He nodded toward where the cops had vanished. "New girl getting arrested at a murder scene? Not a good look. You're too pretty."

I didn't respond. Just stared at him.

"I don't know what's more disturbing," he says, gaze cold and curious, "that you're still hanging around a murder scene... or that you're not even fazed." He continued, scanning me like I was a riddle he couldn't solve.

I met his eyes. Held them. "Why would I be? I didn't know her." I retorted.

"I don't know. She's dead."

I shrugged, lips curling at the edge. "Sucks to be her, I guess." I huffed, bored.

That smug smirk returned slightly studying me from head to toe. "I guess I should've properly introduced myself before accusing you of murder," he said, voice smooth. "Roman. Roman Godfrey."

I tilted my head, half-smirking. "I knew a Roman once. He only ever insisted on doing anal."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"So tell me," I said, eyes scanning his face, "are you into anal? Or was that just a him thing?"

Roman worked his jaw slowly, like he was chewing on invisible gum. That smug little smile crept back onto his lips. "Not my style."

I twirled a strand of hair between my fingers, brushing it against my bottom lip as a kind of comfort. "Hm. Too bad." I pouted, my eyes dragging down and back up his tall stature, unapologetically.

"Well," I said, pivoting on my heel, "I'll see you around, Roman."

"Right," he called after me. "Your name would've sufficed."

I glanced over my shoulder once, just long enough to grin. "You'll figure it out, Ro.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@themorriganisamonster

a/n: sooooooo👀 It’s short but it’s enough for you guys to give me honest feedback and tell me if I should continue or just shut up for the rest of my life. If I do continue it’s going to be a lot of trial and error so I need patience because this is my first time publishing anything. With that being said, if you guys enjoyed this and want another chapter i’m gonna need at least a month especially with finals rn💔 okayyy be nice or i’ll find you.

[lostliketearsinrain]

@evanave asked: 「 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 」 — to accidentally send the receiver a nude / college verse to peter

Grading papers was easily one of the top three things he hated about teaching at a college. The main reason was that most of his students tended to just list some basic facts and repeat the most common opinions. And those who claimed to be individual thinkers basically just rephrased the most popular controversial thesis on the subject. It was tedious work. That was why he had postponed it as long as he could. It was almost three in the morning when he clicked on the email from the last student in his alphabetical course list.

Evan Wright was surely not one of his top students, he was a quiet boy who usually didn't participate in seminar discussions, unless when he was called to speak. Then he proved that he'd been listening and he was able to give some insights by a more thorough look at the arguments mentioned. Yet he hardly ever stated a new idea, almost as if he was afraid to utter one. He wasn't one who was eager to win a discussion, but kept quiet once someone else interrupted him. Peter had noticed the blond student wasn't the best in remembering theories and key facts, but he wondered if this quietness was also politness or something else.

And sometimes Peter wondered if Evan even listened or was just daydreaming while he was giving a lecture. Those blue eyes often gazed into a nothingness and they had that gloominess about them, but when they looked at him, so wide, so open, like they wanted to take in every word he said -- Peter had caught himself pausing midsentence once when that gaze was directed at him, that face looking at him all expectantly as if the boy was waiting to absorb every bit of knowledge he would give him - or even more than that, as if he could see into him, look at him wiht the soul of a true artist...

He frowned and shook his head. There was no reason to wonder about one of this students that much. He was probably just tired. He took a gulp from the already cold coffee, then ran a hand over his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled and decided he'd better get this done with and head to bed once this last paper was graded.

Supressing a yawn he opened the attachement and then he just stared at the screen for several seconds - or minutes.

Instead of a word document a photo showed up on the screen. A photo of a young man with unruly blond hair that covered part of his face - a face with very appealing features, sensuous pink lips, a distinct jawline, a nose that could only be described as cute, cerulean blue eyes that were half closed at they stared at the device in his hand: a phone directed at the observer - or rather at the mirror. The head craning and looking over his shoulder, twisting the body - the naked body - in an angle that presented his shoulder, part of his back and his butt; round and firm and smooth and completely naked.

Peter took in a deep breath and let go off the mouse he was clenching in his fist. Sure, Peter knew that he was an attractive young man and many of his students tried and flirted with him, but most were quickly repelled by his distant nature. Was Evan Wright one of them? Had he mistaken the boy's nature? Was he bolder than the professor had taken him to be or was this just some mistake? - He caught himself frowning at the thought that this picture was meant for someone else and he didn't like that thought.

"Fuck," he muttered and closed the laptop. He got up, went into the small adjoinging kitchen, and made some fresh coffee. He stood at the kitchen counter, listening to the gurgling sounds and watching as drop after drop filled the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup, emptied it, not caring that hot liquid almost burnt his palate, and poured himself another another cup which he took back to his desk. At that point he was ready to belief that he had just imagined that photo, that his tired mind was playing tricks on him and he was about to frown at himself for why his mind was so preoccupied with one of his student and in such a way. Then he opened the laptop, the screen woke up and the photo was still there.

The mouse cursor lingered over the delete button. His eyes wandered over blond hair, over sun-kissed skin, so smooth... And he closed the file.

Peter typed a quick reply, "attachment missing. please resend." and signed off with his official email signature.

He shut down the laptop and decided it was time to go to bed. Only that when he lay in bed and closed his eyes, all he saw were those eyes, that mouth curved into a half-smile, not shy but teasing, the muscles tense and the curve of that perky ass...

"Fuck," he growled and after turning in his bed to get rid off those images and very inappropriate thoughts, he decided to get up, put on his sneakers and go for a run into the night, hoping the cool night air would cool his mind and his body's reactions.

[lostliketearsinrain]

@evanave

Strong hands wrapped around the slender wrists, gripping them tightly like shackles. His eyes, the color of a tempest on a cruel winter day, glared into cerulean hues. Small soft hands that had tried to clasp his face seconds ago were held in the air, away from his face – but he could still feel their soft touch tingling on his skin.

His eyes narrowed as full lips were pressed into a thin line, and that beautiful face turned away. A sharp sting in his chest. He growled as if that feeling wasn’t hurt, but hunger.

The blond tried to wriggle out of the grip, pull away, mumbled some words of excuse. But it wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t do.

His right hand let go of a slender wrist, leaving red marks on the sensitive skin, but only to grab the boy’s chin in an even firmer grip. Turning his face, he forced him to meet his eyes again. He needed to see that he understood, he needed to see that Evan knew the man would never be what Evan wanted, what he needed, what he deserved to have.

“Don’t try to infect me with your softness,” he growled.

@byronlc asked: ❛ do not forget what i am.  ❜ to Evan from the wolf

Harsh words which cut so much deeper, than the tight grip his wrists were held with, preventing the blond from touching the other. Peter had appeared like he had been mulling over something, the way he had been sitting there and Evan had only wanted to — yeah, what had he wanted to do when he had reached for the man’s face with both of his hands? Only because he wasn���t treated like one of the other captives didn’t it mean shit. He really had gotten a tad too comfortable, no? Lips were pressed together at the realization and the light slightly diminished which had sparked up in blue hues over the past days. Only reflecting the surprise over the sudden movement when he had gotten too close. Evan really couldn’t bear the male’s gaze in this moment, therefore had to avert his while trying to pull free from the grip. “Sorry…Won’t happen again.” He mumbled.

[untamedlobo]

HC: Peter can do actual small magic like make objects float /fly ,like cards and paper planes .

Plants grow stronger and faster around him, where he leaves paw prints in the woods , plants bloom earlier and stronger in them then in out side of them.

Rarely very very rarely thanks to his bloodline storms are stronger if his mood is sour .

[werewolferotica]

note: this is a side blog, i follow back from @mortuaryleo this account is for rp purposes only

there is another two side blogs i run that is just for oc’s of the band au those ones are @skyjellyvegas and @giabitesback

sort of canon peter rumancek, him but more gay and longing

18+ to follow, dm, rp. minors do not interact u will be blocked, same goes for ageless blogs.

dm with scenarios, starters, ideas.

current rp’s: alleyway alternate ending

band au (jellyfish in the sky) {will be tagged as band au rp, band au, and jellyfish in the sky}

[byronlc]

psa: this blog has been archived

For my own sanity, I've decided to put this blog on permanent hiatus. I'm sorry to those who have been waiting for ages for any replies - however, most of you are already interacting with my muses on my active blogs. Anyone interested in writing with me, please follow my new blogs:

@eniqmvtic an independent single-muse role play blog for an original character inspired by Drew Starkey’s portrayal of his character Trevor in Hellraiser (2022)

@byrcnic an independent single-muse role play blog for a canon character evolved into an original character inspired by Peter Rumancek from Hemlock Grove, aged up and with the ruggedly handsome face of Aaron Taylor-Johnson

@klldare an independent multi-muse role play blog for canon characters and original characters set in the Outer Banks verse, inspired by the Netflix show

@lostliketearsinrain an independent multi-muse role play sideblog for canon characters treated as original characters and original characters in apocalyptic, horror, supernatural & other genre verses.

THANK YOU!

[cocaineskarsgard]

introduction post!!!

hi i’m leo, but i go by hollywood online. i’m 21, and deeply obsessed with bill skarsgård. i cannot be normal about him and you will see that on this blog. i am a freak™️

he/him please!!!

main blog: @mortuaryleo

rp blogs: @werewolferotica (peter rumancek rp), @skyjellyvegas (hemlock grove oc, band au rp) @giabitesback (hemlock grove oc, band au rp)

i do take asks/requests for fics. all i ask is patience for requests as i do have a longfic that is my top priority right now.

minors, do not interact, this is not a space for you.

if u ever want to know anything about me, just send an ask! i’m pretty open.

common tags

cocaineskarsgard writes -fics

^ this one is also attached to my writing blog @fredbears-faggot

cocaineskarsgard posting- feral comments

[voidofsunlight]

yes pls if u make more Peter bots u can have my undying love and support

Hello sweetheart! I've made two new Peter Rumancek bots, hopefully you enjoy interacting with them! 🧸 Your car breaks down, and Peter pulls over, offering to help 🧸 You take Peter’s usual booth. He slides into the seat across from you.

Thank you for your request and the support!

[lostliketearsinrain]

@cfroyalisms cont. from here

His large hands framed her pretty face, holding it so firmly as if he meant to never let go, but at the same time there was so much tenderness in that gesture. His eyes burnt into hers with glaring intensity. His chest heaving as if from exhaustion.

"You know well enough," he repeated her words, not meant as a snappy or sarcastic remark, but uttered with fervor and confidence. He was sure that she felt the fierceness of his need for her, his forbidden desires.

He leaned down, his forehead almost touching hers. His warm breathe caressed her face, and when he inhaled her sweet scent, he needed to close his eyes.

"This cannot be..." he whispered.

His eyes opened again, they had the color of the sky over the mountains in the far north, the promise of another wilder life.

"What I want would be your ruin." And his certain death if they ever found out.