Hell's Gate (Hemlock Grove) (Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader)
Preface: We all know Olivia Godfrey only cares about herself and her legacy. Any threat to that is a threat to her. You, the person whom Roman loves, is a threat. So, she opts to get rid of you. Little does she and Roman know, you have your own secret.
Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, general angst, cursing, reader isn't a baby bottom bitch in this, Roman having a breakdown, crying, some dark gifs to appeal to the edgy readers, etc..
Part 2 here
Part 3 here
Part 4 here
Part 5 here
You knew the moment Olivia walked into the room you were in, alone, that she was going to try something. What that 'thing' was, you didn't know. A dig at your integrity, your intelligence, your lineage; who knows. That's how it always was between you two. Underneath the superficial layer of flowery words of flattery lied malice beyond human comprehension. You could tell from the instance you met her she didn't like you. Why? You were involved with Roman. In fact, he loved you. He loved you more than he feared her. She didn't like that.
So, when you were basically cornered by the predictably unpredictable woman in the Godfrey estate, you knew some shit was going to go down. She was a beautiful woman. It was a shame she was so ugly on the inside.
"Mrs. Godfrey," you greeted with a slight incline of your head. "Is there something you need?"
"Yes, actually." She came to stand in the middle of the parlor room, heels clicking against the polished wooden flooring. "Roman is out currently, and Shelley is resting right now. I would absolutely love it if you would join me on a walk."
You slowly stood up from the comfy chair with a wary gaze. "Through the estate? Or over a bridge?"
"That depends on whether I feel up to dragging you that far away from the house." She gave a tight smile before turning. "Still, I would love to get to know the girl my son seems to be so attached to."
You nodded. "Alright. If you insist." You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Roman, who was out meandering with Peter due to some dreams they had about the Vargulf.
'Your mother wants to take a walk with me. I don't like the way she's holding herself. I love you.'
Your message was delivered--and Roman normally texted back moderately quickly. However, this was the one time where he wouldn't be able to see your message in time.
You pocketed your phone and smiled at Olivia, who gave you one of her own. It was pleasant--her teeth straight and white--but the feeling she gave off greatly contradicted it.
The day was beautiful. A calm, autumn day. A crisp 60 degrees with a cool breeze. The fallen leaves crunched under your feet, varying shades of red, orange, and yellow. Olivia has not spoken to you once the entire time, and you weren't quick to start a conversation either. Roman still hadn't responded to you--nor had he actually read it. That was fine. You understood what he was doing was important. You could handle yourself. Probably. Maybe. You hoped.
"How well do you think you know my son?" She suddenly spoke, hands placed delicately in her trench coat pockets.
"Hm," you hummed. "I would like to think I know him well enough. Maybe not the best, but I know him better than my other friends."
"Is that so?" She murmured. "Do you think he loves you?"
You shrugged. "I don't think I have a right to speak on his feelings. Especially regarding me. It seems egotistical."
"You know, Y/n, Roman is a brilliant boy. He is my son, my flesh and blood."
"I'm aware of how basic biology works, yes. He very much looks like your son." You nodded. You may not have been as sharp as her, but with the wit you did have, you would use it at every chance.
"And as his mother, it's my job to make sure nothing gets in the way of his bright future."
You slowed your walking. "Do you think I'm a hindrance, Mrs. Godfrey?"
She matched your slowed pace and looked over her shoulder at you. "Well, I don't believe you to be a benefit. You're a distraction. Surely, you understand where I'm coming from. I just want what's best for him."
"And you don't think I'm one of those things that are 'best' for him?"
Olivia chuckled lowly, playing around with her leather gloves. "I believe that you will lead him astray from the path I've laid for him. That's all. It's nothing personal, truly Y/n. You're a lovely girl, I'm sure. When you're away from Roman."
You nodded slowly, sucking your teeth. "It feels personal." You looked around your surroundings. You were at the back of the estate's yard--the house itself was a good distance away. "Are we finishing our walk here, Mrs. Godfrey?" You asked, tilting your head. You gazed at her eyes with calm intent.
"You're truly not scared?" She asked, slowly removing her gloves. She no longer cared whether you knew or not. You would be the only one to, at least. Aside from her, but she's very good at keeping secrets.
You smiled lightly and stared at her hands. "I've come across scarier things than a narcissistic Upir."
Her lips twitched into a frown. "Then I suppose it's good that that'll be the last thing you come across."
~
Roman fell against the wall, entire body collapsing into itself. Peter didn't catch him in time, but he did attempt to keep Roman's body from crashing to the floor. A violent sob racked through the said man's body, face screwing up in pure agony.
"Roman? Hey--it's okay, buddy. It's okay," Peter soothed, not minding his best friend clinging to him currently. "I know. It's okay."
By the time Roman had read your text, you were already dead in a ditch somewhere; disembowled and dismembered. You were found there a few days later after your walk with Olivia. According to her, you went off on a walk after an unpleasant conversation with Olivia, to which she stayed behind in the house because of Shelly. There were no witnesses and no evidence left at the crime scene enough to create a concrete suspect list.
Olivia was the one who broke the news to Roman of your 'absence'. At first, he just thought you needed space from her--which was understandable. His mother was extremely suffocating, and if you're not used to her, it can quite literally kill you. Unfortunately for you, it did.
As expected, he took it poorly, and Peter had to give all of his energy to keep Roman from lashing out and hurting himself or hurting Olivia (no matter how much they both disliked her). Of course, it pained the older woman to see her son in pain (but let's be honest, she didn't care about the reason), so all she could do was swear to him that they'd find the person responsible for your murder.
Peter couldn't be with him 24/7, and the two boys still had school to deal with as well. Anger coursed through him 24/7, a thin film that kept the grief at bay. Peter knew what was going on, and Letha as well, as Peter had told her. Anyone else who had the misfortune of crossing Roman during that time was left in the middle of a whirlwind of anger and hurt.
"Roman," Peter called softly. "We both know Y/n didn't. . . just randomly die, right?"
Roman puffed out a cloud of cigarette smoke--the fourth one he's smoked that morning alone. He nodded solemnly, expression already screwing up. "No way," he chuckled bitterly. "That woman could punch anyone's lights out." He paused for a brief moment.
"Shit," he cursed, voice breaking and stumbling over itself. "I didn't even answer her text."
Peter nodded slowly, reaching over to pat Roman on the shoulder comfortingly. "It's not your fault. Y/n would've understood. She knew how important this was. It's not your fault." When Roman looked over to his friend, Peter just gazed steadily at him. "We got this, buddy. We'll find the person. And when we do, we'll kill them."
Roman nodded in agreement, sniffing. Both of them knew this wasn't something to come back from easily. If anyone knew Roman past the fuckboy, hard-ass image, they'd know he wouldn't move on--that nothing would, or could, replace the spot you took in his life and heart.
Dirt and mud were peeled away like a sheet of ice, uncovering the freshly dug hole in the ground. Flesh was spiked with shredded wood splinters and blood soaked through the pure white shirt. A hand came up through the ground to claw at the surrounding solid dirt. With a hefty, polyphonic grunt, you pulled yourself out of your shallow grave. With eyes blazing an angry red and a voice like a demonic choir, you uttered one single sentence,
"I'm going to fucking kill that bitch."
595 notes
·
View notes
Raking leaves with Roman and Peter hcs
* Fall has slowly started to creep its way into hemlock grove over the past few weeks.
* The weather was getting a lot colder and windier.
* It was getting darker outside sooner.
* People were decorating their houses for the upcoming holiday season.
* And the leaves have started to fall off the trees and decorate the ground in an array of bright yellows oranges and reds.
* Romans mom went on vacation and ordered Roman to rake the leaves that have fallen on their large lawn.
* Roman didn’t want to do this alone, it would take all day to finish. So he called the only two people who he knew would help him.
* You and Peter.
* It took the three of you two hours to get the job done but it was satisfying when it was all clean looking.
* Peter made a joke about jumping in the leave pile before bagging the leaves and Roman was not amused.
* After all is said and done the three of you go inside to warm up from the cold. Romans the one to suggest a movie.
* Everyone showered and you thankfully brought comfy clothes from Roman’s suggestion and got dressed.
* The three of you curled up under throw blanket and watched something funny until it was time to fall asleep.
33 notes
·
View notes