#wolfsbaneblood

[notevenghosts]

just wanted to say that you are a precious cinnamon roll who is too good and pure for this world

AWWW no you are <33333333333333 thanks!

[notevenghosts]

HI I NEVER REPLIED TO YOUR SNAPCHAT YESTERDAY BUT I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU LOOKED STUNNING 10/10 WOULD AGREE

THANK YOU YOU’RE TOO SWEET

I can post some prom pictures here if people are interested?

[tofixtheshadows]

hello!! I sent you ask a month or two ago asking about trans Scott and you ended up writing a really lovely drabble about it and I was wondering if you'd be willing to do it again :) the world is severely lacking in content about trans scott :(

Sorry this took so long! Passover weekend was very busy for me. I’m always willing to talk about trans!Scott.

Consider it a slight universe alteration of this scene. Warnings for unintentional misgendering, Derek being Derek, and canon-typical violence.

Scott can feel when the torn flesh on his chest starts to knit back together, the sharp pain from the gouges fading until Scott feels like he can breathe again. He just wishes the same thing would happen to his clothes. His shirt and, more importantly, his sports bra, were ripped and bloodied by Derek’s claws. They’ll be going in the trash, just like his red hoodie from that night in the woods.

He angles himself away from Derek, trying to cover his chest protectively without being too obvious about it. Thanks to puberty blockers and his more recent regimen of T, there isn’t much to see, but it’s more than he wants to show Derek.

“It’s the alpha you have to worry about, not me. Unless you pull something like that again.” Derek jabs a (declawed) finger at the hole in the wall, and Scott glares at him, bloody hand pressed to his chest. 

“And don’t worry. I already know you’re a girl. I could smell it,” he adds gruffly, and the hard-won control Scott gained snaps, fury exploding in his head until he sees red. Fangs elongate inside his mouth again, eyes burning yellow.

“I’m not a girl!” he roars, lunging at Derek. The older werewolf catches him by the wrists before Scott’s claws can reach his throat, holding him at a distance. Scott struggles, snarling, and Derek roars back at him. It’s another minute before he calms down enough to pull away, the haze clearing. Derek lets him go.

“I’m not a girl,” Scott repeats, breathing heavily. “I’m a boy.”

Derek just looks at him, expression tight. There’s a pause before he gives a curt nod. “Sorry.” He glances away awkwardly, scanning the dusty moonlit room instead of Scott’s face. “I just thought you wanted to make the lacrosse team. Stupid.”

Scott’s good at picking up when people are just placating him. It’s happened all his life. Derek’s not doing that now. What he’s getting is that Derek’s actually embarrassed, which is gratifying. 

“Yeah, it was,” Scott says bluntly. He zips his hoodie up over his torn shirt, even though he’s sweating from the fight. The air is too still in this burned-out house, too warm and stifling even in the middle of January, as if the heat from the fire never really left it. 

He thinks it never really left Derek either. 

A year and a half later, he’s standing in his kitchen with a peanut butter sandwich, and Derek Hale- who is broader, and bearded, and so much softer than the Derek that Scott first met in the woods, and who is also now smiling- slides a small piece of paper across the counter at him.

It’s a check.

Scott puts down his sandwich.

“That’ll cover any surgeries you need,” Derek says before he can ask. Scott’s mouth feels stuck together, and it isn’t because of the peanut butter. He hesitantly picks up the check, scans the amount.

“I can’t take this,” he says, looking up at Derek with wide eyes. He holds out the check. “Derek, this is-”

“Peter’s,” Derek says firmly. “It’s from his share of my family’s fortune. As far as I’m concerned, he owes it to you. We both do.” He gently pushes Scott’s offered hand towards him. “Take it, Scott.”

Scott feels a smile break across his face. “Okay. I’ll take enough for top surgery.“ 

A year ago, if you had told Scott that Derek Hale would be gifting him with thousands of dollars just to make him happy, he would’ve laughed it off as a joke. Derek, who almost inadvertently convinced him that he could only end up as miserable and alone as he was after becoming a werewolf. Derek, who first assumed he was a tomboyish girl, helping pay for his transition.

The kitchen is full of golden sunlight, warm and summery, and Scott feels like he could be glowing with it. He puts the check down and throws himself at Derek, catches him in a tight hug. Derek laughs, pats him on the shoulder.

“You’ll still help me, right?” Scott pulls back, beaming. “It’s not just about money. I don’t know how werewolves go through surgery at all.”

“I promised I’d show you some trade secrets,” Derek says. “So let’s go talk to Deaton.”

[tofixtheshadows]

Can you talk about more trans Scott? It can be Scott or Scarlet but your headcanons are so nice and I don't know where to find more about trans scott :(

Thanks friend! Unfortunately fandom only seems to care about queer narratives if they’re Stiles’, otherwise I’d try and rec you things. ): I’ll try to do my best. 

"Scott, I"m trying to break up with you," Allison says, her voice raw.

"I know," he tells her, because he does. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in every word of apology. She’s gripping his hand so tightly, but it’s only with the fierceness of someone who’s about to let go. Scott feels strangely calm, although how much of that he can blame on being burned out from the night they’ve just had, he’s not sure. But right now it’s about Allison, small and diminished in her guilt. The whole bedroom smells salt-soaked with her grief and he aches to ease her pain. 

"And it’s okay," he whispers, because he can’t take the way she’s looking at him. He’s only going to allow himself this one thing— "Just tell me," he adds, fragile as a thread, "that it’s not because- because I’m-" he can’t spit out the word trans, or not really a boy, because he’d told himself and Allison that he wouldn’t think like that anymore, she’d kissed him sweetly and said Promise me, okay?

"Oh god, Scott, no, no," Allison tells him, looking stricken. He feels the knot in his chest ease a little anyway. He can tell she isn’t lying. She touches his cheek, the pads of her fingers rough with archery callouses. He’s always loved that. He lets himself enjoy it for what might be the last time.

"It’s because of me, and my mom, and what I did. I need to figure out who I am. Not because of you. Never you," she whispers. She looks into his eyes, and her voice is firm when she says, "Everything about you is perfect, Scott McCall.” 

Scott has to look away for a moment. “Thank you,” he says. For every unquestioned moment of love and acceptance she’s given him since the day he came out to her, for the strength he’s taken from it. He’s got more than enough to go on now.

They kiss each other like a farewell, and he lingers in the doorway when he leaves, for one last look. He can wait for Allison, give her as long as she needs to find her way forward, and then maybe, back to him. 

If there’s one thing Scott knows by now, it’s that nothing is set in stone.