For Marie, who had a bad day and wanted a fic to accompany this stunningly gorgeous piece of artwork. This fic is a) going to go up on Ao3 in the near future and b) canon-compliant. As such, warning for underage romantic entanglements. <3
If someone had told Stiles a year ago that his life was soon going to feature heavily in traipsing through the woods after occult creatures in the dead of night…
…well, he probably would have thought that was pretty cool, actually. There’s the decent chance he would have asked a number of probing questions, and maybe had the time to buy one of those water bottle backpacks he keeps meaning to order. Possibly, if whoever had told him had made a convincing enough argument, Stiles would have had the foresight to invest in some comfortable hiking boots. It would have been a good thing, really, if someone had thought to mention it to him before this all started, because lately Stiles is spending so much time actively trying not to let anybody die that some of his plans are falling through the cracks. Usually they’re the plans that deal with his own comfort; that, Stiles thinks, is Not Right. He’s the human, after all. He’s starting to think he may be the only human in the entire goddamn town—his comfort should be paramount, since it’s not like he can heal away blisters and dehydration and his thousandth freaking mosquito bite of the night.
Grimly, Stiles wonders if he’s going to wake up tomorrow as a weremosquito. It wouldn’t really surprise him.
GYZYM WROTE MORE TEEN WOLF FIC?!
TELL ME MORE.