#teen wolf angest

[soulofapatrick]

Rebuilding - Derek Hale x female reader

Summary: You show Derek the rebuilt Hale House you did for him

Words: 1.8k

warnings: none really; heavy making out

Notes: I can make a smutty part two

Y/N’s POV

The old Hale House had stood as a haunting reminder of the past, a testament to the tragedy and loss the family had endured. But now, it has been transformed into something new, something hopeful. With the combined effort of the pack and my Dad, it had become a symbol of rebirth and unity, a mansion that has welcomed every member with open arms and spare rooms for new pack members. 

As I stand in front of the restored mansion, I can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Derek, who had once lived here in its glory days, deserves to see what I’ve done to the place. He’s been through so much, and I wanted this surprise to be a new beginning for him… for us hopefully. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but fidget with the key in my hand as I wait for Derek. The old Hale House, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, seems to hold its breath in eager anticipation of his arrival. And then, I hear it - the familiar purr of Derek’s car engine. It’s a sound that I’ve come to associate with his arrival, and my heart quickens in response. The car pulls down the long, winding driveway, and I keep staring at the house, my hands shaking a little as I fiddle with the keys. 

Suddenly, there he is. Derek appears beside me, his tall, brooding frame casting a shadow on the gravel driveway. He looks rugged and handsome as ever, with that alluring air of mystery that has always drawn me to him. His dark brows are furrowed in curiosity and confusion, his eyes scanning the mansion before us as if he’s trying to work out where we are. It makes my heart drop as he doesn’t recognise it despite me trying to keep it as near as I can to the original Hale house. 

But then, something remarkable happens. As his eyes roam over the mansion’s exterior, his brows furrow even deeper, and then there’s a hint of disbelief in his expression. It’s as if the familiarity of the place has begun to dawn on him, piece by piece. The realisation hits him like a tidal wave. His kaleidoscope eyes widen, and a gasps escapes his pretty and plump lips, “Is… is this….?” His voice trembles with emotion, and for a moment, he can’t seem to find the words. 

I hold out the keys for him and he looks between the house and the keys and then back at the house, “I can’t… I… can you…” His voice falters, and it’s clear that he’s fighting back tears, the enormity of the moment almost too much to bear. Without a word, I’m nodding and reaching for his trembling hands. Our fingers interlace, and with a gentle squeeze, I lead him towards the grand entrance. 

Derek’s eyes remain locked onto the mansion, his disbelief and wonder still etched across his features. But he doesn’t need to say anything more for me to understand the whirlwind of emotions storming within him. 

I turn the key in the lock, my own fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. The door swings open, revealing the lovingly restored interior. The warm, golden light spills into the entryway, painting a new chapter on the old canvas of the Hale House. The grand entrance is now invitingly open, Derek taking a step forwards. His presence is so close to me that his chest is practically pressed against my back. The feel of him so near is electrifying, and it sends a shiver down my spine. 

“Welcome home Derek.” I say, my voice a soft, heartfelt whisper, as we cross the threshold together. 

The atmosphere inside is a mixture of nostalgia and fresh beginnings. The original features of the Hale House have been preserved, the hardwood floors polished, the walls adorned with artworks from the pack. The spaciousness of the rooms has been maintained, yet there’s a sense of cozy warmth that wasn’t there before. 

Derek’s gaze dances the space, a mixture of awe and sentimentality reflected in his expressive eyes. He appreciates the care and attention that went into preserving the essence of the house he called home. 

Then, he grabs my hands again with a gentle yet firm grip, leading me through the echoing halls as the pack gave us the house for Derek to see alone.  It’s a touch that sends a rush of warmth through me, the electricity of his touch palatable. We move through the house, our footsteps echoing, and Derek’s strides confident, as if he’s revisiting his own memories. 

As we ender the kitchen, Derek stops in his tracks. A soft, almost reverent sound escapes him, and his eyes widen again as he takes in the layout. It’s practically identical to the original Hale House kitchen, meticulously restored to match his recollections with the help of creepy uncle Peter. 

His grip on my hand tightens, and he turns to me, his expression filled with amazement, “This… it’s just like I remember it.” He says, his vice soft and filed with wonder, “You’ve brought it all back to life.” 

I can’t help but smile at his reaction. The kitchen holds countless memories for him, both happy and bittersweet, and seeing it so faithfully restored means the world to him. "We wanted it to feel like home," I reply, my voice equally hushed, knowing how much this place means to him. Derek’s thumb brushes over the back of my hand, his touch conveying the depth of his gratitude. It’s a silent exchange of emotions, the unspoken understanding between us.

And then, something changes in the air. Derek turns to me, his kaleidoscope eyes now shining with warmth and something else, something that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His gaze flits down my lips, and in response, I can’t help but wet them with my tongue, suddenly feeling acutely aware of their dryness. It draws a small sound from Derek’s throat, low and almost involuntary, a testament to the magnetic pull between us. He leans in, closing the distance between our lips with a purposeful intent. Our mouths meet in a soft, longing kiss, a silent declaration of the emotions that have simmered between us for so long. 

His lips are soft yet insistent, moving against mine with a deliberate tenderness. I can feel the gentle, rhythmic movement of his mouth, each touch setting my heart racing. There’s a hint of urgency in his kiss, a desire that has been simmering just beneath the surface. Derek’s hands finding their way to my waist, holding e close as if he never wants to let me go. The touch of his fingertips against my skin sends shivers down my spine, and I press my body closer to his, wanting to feel every inch of him. 

My own hands move to rest on his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his body beneath my touch. They gradually work their way up, entwining in his shirt, wanting to pull him closer still. The connection between us deepens with every passing second, a silent confirmation of the emotions we’ve held back fr so long. 

Derek’s hands, which had been gently holding my waist, suddenly tighten their grip and before I can react, he’s lifting me up with a powerful yet careful motion. My legs instinctively wrap around this waist as he sets me on the edge of the kitchen island, never once breaking the kiss. 

Our lips remain locked in a heated embrace, a heated embrace, a testament to the fiery passion that's been ignited between us. Derek's tongue brushes over my lips, seeking entrance, and without hesitation, I part them, with a small, embracing sound escaping my lips which he swallows, tongue slipping past my lips. It's a dance of desire, a clash of longing, and a melding of two souls that have been drawn together by an irresistible force. Our mouths move with a shared urgency, each kiss deeper and more consuming than the last.

As our tongues explore and intertwine, Derek’s grip on my hips tightens, pulling me closer until I’m arched on the edge of the kitchen island. The sensation of his body pressed against mine is electrifying, sending heat down south where I’m pressed against his growing problem. It has my thighs tightening around him, hips jerking a little and drawing sounds from both of us. 

Finally our lips part, but only slightly, our foreheads resting against each other as we catch our breath. Derek’s voice is a husky whisper, filled with raw desire, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He confesses, his words heavy with yearning, “ I couldn’t keep it in any longer.” 

My heart flutters at his admission, and I look into his kaleidoscope eyes, my own filled with the same longing, “Der…” I breathe, “I’ve felt the same way. I’ve wanted this as much as you have.” 

His lips find mine again, and the kiss that follows is fierce and fervent, a passionate culmination of our unspoken desires. It's a promise, a declaration, and a celebration of the love that has finally been acknowledged. 

But then, Derek's lips trail down from mine to my neck, and his kisses ignite a trail of fire across my skin. I gasp as his mouth leaves a mark, a fervent, possessive hickey, and another one right beside it. Each one is a silent proclamation of his desire, a mark of his longing for me. As Derek's kisses continue to trail down my neck, I gasp and my fingers clutch at his shoulders. The sensation is almost too much to bear, the heat of his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my skin, marked by possessive hickeys.

“Y/N,” He murmurs breathlessly voice heavy with desire, “If we don’t stop, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pulls away slightly, his eyes dark and smouldering now and he lets out a low and sensual chuckle when an embarrassing moan escapes me. 

“Maybe…” I have to clear my throat, “Maybe we should check out your room.” My heart is racing as I say it, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and desire, eager to hear his response but also somewhat ready for the rejection. 

Instead, he groans, head falling to my shoulder before he growls out, “Don’t… don’t say things like that baby girl.” I stay silent, knowing there’s more and he kissing my collarbone sweetly before murmuring, “But, I think it’s a very, very good idea.”

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[raynemabel]

Rayne Mabel stood in the middle of the pitch black  forrest clearing blood covering her gown and hands. She wasnt sure how she ended upin the middle of the forest at night after being at a ball. “Help me” she called out looking around the forest all she could see where a few steps in front of her and a body laying on the forrest floor to her left

[zenpai-senpai]

Meet my shipsona, the clue crew!!

Me? Actually doing the art i said i would? Shocking! but im hyperfixating on among us so its expected.

I call it a shipsona cause its well.. The whole ship, not just a crewsona/crewmate or just a impostersona/imposter.

My ship is made up of 12 1/2( one for each color and the 1/2 being lilly's little baby) crew members. I named my crew the clue crew seince a few of them take after characters from the game clue accidentially.

All of my crew ( other than lilly's baby) are adults.

Update!: teen has been renamed hack, sprout is now female and chef is now male.

Heres each member with a little bit of info on personality/name/etc:

Red: male, nicknamed " ninja", wears the black headband, dosent talk much, has the voice of a person doing a shitty genji impression( this is a voice he makes himself do, its not his real voice). Very sneaky and sly. Has a bad past but dosent show many emoitons or talk about it. He can sometimes be goofy on purpose but he perfers to stay serious. Its about a 20%-80% ratio though.

Blue: male, nicknamed " knight/gaurd", wears the gladiator/knight helmet, protects/follows royal and commander alot, talks very proper but it falls apart when hes excited/upset/emotional. Like the astronaut equivalent of a puppy in a knight costume but very quickly can turn into a vicious wolf. Joins in sweetie's pranks.

Green: female, nicknamed " sprout", wears the leafs, happy go lucky and cries when she has to dump the leaves out into space. Perfers to keep to her plants cause people tend to confuse her. Kinda close with ali. Polite to a fault.

Pink: female, nicknamed " lilly" wears the pink flower and carries around a small light purple minicrewmate. Wont say who the father is other than " he didnt want to claim her(the little crewmate) till he made himself a dad for her to be proud of". Sweet and mom friend.

Orange: female, nicknamed " Hack", wears the red beanie, epitome of teen angest, wears eyeliner. Dosent get close to many people. A fan of alternative rock music and is working on her art career.

Yellow: ambiguous gender, nicknamed dum, wears dumn sticky note. Dosent talk much/at all, stares into space alot, clumsy. Is a blank slate to most people but seems to have an unspoken bond with lilly. Seems to have an interest in planets and astrology.

Black: male, nicknamed commander, wears green military hat with yellow cross, pilot of the ship. Grumpy sweetheart, has a thing for sweetie. Serious almost all the time but often laughs when pranked on. Hes actually quite soft towards hurting people and has the unoffical role of " therapist" though he vents to sci more than anyone. Never insults or yells out his crew.

White: female, nicknamed sweetie, wears the cherry, best friend to some and a total bitch to others, teases everyone and is always sus wether impos or not. Has a past in explosives and military background. Often pranks commander and sci but any unsuspecting crewmate is often the butt of these.

Purple: female, nicknamed royal, wears crown, egotistical and thinks shes better than everyone else. However dose intensely value them as friends and needs physical attention so betrayal is a serious blow to her. Often spats with commander over who should be the commander.

Brown: male, nicknamed chef, wears egg on head. Cynical asshole who would take a bullet for almost anyone on board. Very much the epitome of the memes " two shots of vodka" and " i love you bitch". Often drunkenly fighting or drunkenly cuddling. Kinda close with sci but only cause he tolerates the drunken stuff.

Cyan: male, nicknamed sci, wears goggles. Abit anxious but quite intelligent, was the one to induce the mission their all on. Looks up to commander alot more than hes willing to admit because of his confidence.

( he is not my pfp/my pfp is not the human/unmasked version of sci! Sci's attire was based on the color and accessory i actually main in among us ( cyan and goggles) but nothing else)

Lime: ambigous gender, nicknamed ali, wears the antenna, is an alien sci picked up abit ago and is kind of an assistant. Blissfully ignorant of most human things, intelligent in technology and fact but not human interaction, and has a fair attitude about it all. Very clingy to those who'll allow them to cling to them.

Edit: i am AWARE that some of the behavior and actions of some of these characters are mentally disabled/mentally ill coded. I am mentally disabled and mentall ill, they are INTENTIONAL.

My plan is to either make animations or comics pertaining to each of their imposter runs at some point with a niiicceee twist at the very end! Ill be sure to update yall on whats happening as we go! Also heres a version w/o the title!

[soulofapatrick]

Loves Antidote - Derek Hale x Reader

Summary: You were affected more than the others in the crypt during the events of ‘Weaponised’

Words: 1.2k 

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I can hear Scott moving after Kira tells him what Stiles’ muffled voice yells. He’s reaching for the jar and moments later there’s a crash, I’m gasping for air, feeling like I can breathe finally. My vision is returning and my muscles are finally reacting to me but it’s slower than the others who are already up and on their feet, Malia by my side as she has to pull me to my feet while Scott gets the door open. 

I’m clinging to her, my legs struggling to move and Stiles is suddenly on my other side, the pair of them helping me regain the strength to stumble forwards with my weight being held by them. They’re leading me down the empty hallways of the high school, towards the exit where I can hear myriads of people talking, yelling and preparing for our exit. I know dad’s gonna be out there, Stiles knows he is too, as he’s the sheriff but I’m resisting as I don’t want him to see me like this. He has enough on his plate. 

“Y/N, please, you need help.” Stiles is urging, voice filled with concern. His grip around my ribs tightening, determination shining through his wide and worried eyes as I lull my head in his direction. I can hear Scott and Kira trying to find the others, checking on teachers and students alike while Stiles and Malia want to get me to Melissa who I can hear bustling about outside. I can hear dad too and there’s another voice. It sends my heart pounding and Malia is sending me a concerned look as she can hear how fast my heart is beating. 

I try to push the pain aside and focus on that voice, knowing he’s just outside. I want to get to him before I even think about Melissa and getting help. I need him. Together, the three of us stagger through the double doors, the taste of freedom so sweet and the sun temporarily blinds me but I can smell him. Three voices call my name: Dad, Melissa and him. The strange mixture of musk, something slightly spicy like oranges and vanilla fills my senses as my eyes try to adjust to the blinding brightness. My knees are giving in and I’m falling until the pair get a better grip on me. 

The sound of pounding feet feel like gunshots in my head but the scent of him coming closer and closer spurs me on, giving me the strength to push Stiles and Malia away. My already aching body collides with solid and strong arms are wrapping around me, the smell of him is almost overwhelming it’s so intoxicating. The cool and smooth leather of his jacket against my skin is a stark contrast to the feverish heat pulsating through my body. 

“Derek.” My voice cracks and sounds raw even to my own ears, Derek’s arms tightening protectively around me. The emotions radiating from him prickle my eyes and before I know it I’m burying my face in his shirt, trying to staunch the onslaught of tears. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay sweetheart,” Derek’s voice soothes, a gentle balm to my shattered nerves, his words washing over me like a healing salve. His arms providing a haven of safety and comfort as I cling to him like a lifeline, seeking solace in his unwavering presence. His lips pressing against my temple calms me even more, a tender kiss that ignites a flicker of hope within me. I can feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath against my skin, and it’s as if the world narrows down to this single point of connection. 

As his hand moves in slow, gentle strokes, shooting down my hair, a sense of tranquility washes over me. It’s as if he’s leaving a sense of calm back into the frayed edges of my being, the tremors in my legs begin to subside and the fog surrounding my mind begins to dissipate. The ache and pain is still there and I still feel weak, like I’m going to collapse if Derek lets me go but I know he won’t, especially when the hand that was on my hair moves to cup my jaw, pad of his thumb gliding across my cheekbone gently, a surge of warmth and reassurance following it. 

I’m pushing myself away enough to meet those kaleidoscope eyes, seeing the depth of his concern and care reflected in them. It’s a silent understanding that passes between us, a recognition of the need for me to heal and the inability for my body to do it. And as his thumb continues its soothing motion, I feel that spark of hope ignited within me grow into a flame or two. 

Then, as if guided by an unspoken agreement, Derek is drawing me up into a kiss - a gentle and tender meeting of our lips. It’s a moment that transcends words, the kiss a conduit for my healing and I feel it. With each press of our lips, I can feel the ache slowly fading and my legs stand steadier, the weariness that had taken over my body replaced by something else. It’s sweet on my tongue as Derek’s arm around my waist pulls me closer and the one of my cheek tilts my head to deepen the kiss more. 

Our breaths mingle, a symphony of shared exhales that carry the weight of something new and something good. It’s in the event meeting of our mouths that I find solace, a sanctuary where healing takes root and blooms. The sensation of his lips moving against mine is electrifying and breathtaking all at once. 

Someone is clearing their throat, startling me and pulling me away from Derek, my eyes flickering open to find Dad standing there, a mixture of sternness and amusement playing across his features. While his words carry a reprimand, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that betrays his true feelings. The corners of my lips curling into a sheepish smile, and Derek’s arm remains securely around my waist.

“Okay, okay, I think that’s enough,” Dad asserts, his voice firm but indeed with an undertone of lightheartedness, “Those healing vein things have gone, none of that in front of me thank you.” 

I can’t help but let out a small chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection for Dad’s protectiveness. With a gentle squeeze of Derek’s hand, I start to disentangle myself from his embrace, though the warmth of his touch still lingers on my skin. Derek lets out a growl deep in his throat when Stiles moves towards me, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red as he clears his throat and squeaks out an embarrassed, “Sorry.” 

“Derek,” Dad turns his attention to the very embarrassed werewolf, “I want you to take her home and make sure she is okay. You do not leave her side until either Jordan or I come home, I want nothing like this to happen again.” 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good lad.” 

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