#dontbringclawstoagunfight

[becomingpeter-blog]

From: [text; Allison]:  So, since I probably won’t see you, I’m sorry I said I didn’t love you. I lied.

From: [text; Allison]:   …. goodbye Peter.

He’d gotten that text and tried to call her, but to no avail. Peter tried her number several times and each time all the answer he got was from her voicemail. In his frustration he might have hurled his own phone across the room and watched it smash into a broken heap of parts on the floor. Her phone was dead, turned off, destroyed- he had no idea, but he had to get to the bottom of it. 

She would never do this of her own accord, especially over some trivial little argument, he felt like he knew that. He trusted her, and his trust wasn’t something he just handed out. Allison was different somehow, he’d known that for a long time, and his regret now was what he hadn’t told her. He should have said it. He should have swallowed his pride. It was his fault. She would have never gone if he hadn’t caused such turbulence between them, but now he had to find her and tell her. The only problem with that was Christopher. Peter didn’t know what he might have found out, but surely he’d been suspecting something. He wasn’t stupid after all. However, not even Chris would be able to keep him away from Allison. 

As he pulled into Argent’s driveway he began to wonder if this was all Christopher’s doing. Was he keeping Allison from him? Had he forbidden her from leaving again? The wolf inside him was trying to claw it’s way out of Peter’s control, so angry, frustrated, and_ scared_. He needed her more than he’d ever realized before, to calm the storm inside of him that threatened to destroy everything in sight. Still, he contained it as he pounded against Argent’s door with a heavy fist.

#dontbringclawstoagunfight #hey i did the thing #i think #well i tried

[habituscreaturae]

Lover/Friend ( hc meme )

all about those headcanons

Peter has never exactly been one to have real relationships with people. And the few that he has had didn’t exactly end well. He can’t say he truly has any friends, or at least any he feels he could trust or who trusts him. Sometimes he wishes he could remember the desert wolf and if he actually felt love for her. That he could remember how they met, how Malia came to be. But he’s also glad in a way that those memories were taken from him. Now he only has one true memory of loving and losing, and he’s learned to live with it for the most part.

#dontbringclawstoagunfight #[ ;what you think you may know is probably not the truth (headcanon) ]