not knowing how to deal with the doctor's memories

Remember me?

Request: Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader has amnesia and forgets about Jason (happy ending please!) + 19. “I thought you were dead!” With Jason Todd please?

A/N: Idk what I’m doing tbh. And I changed the request a lil bit, also I’ve been stressin about school so sorry if this sucks. Idk if this medical stuff is accurate or not, so….

Warnings: Idk but (Y/F/P) is (Your Favorite place) (Y/N/N) is (Your Nickname)

Request something!  Masterlist

“Scuse me Miss! Can I get a pint or not!” You glared at the scruffy old man yelling at you. Before you could get a word out, a young man approached the older one.

“ I don’t know if you can see dumbass but the bartender is clearly busy and will get you your ‘pint’ when they get a chance. I think they deserve an apology.” The old man muttered an apology which you accepted with a slam of his beer on the counter in front of him. You looked at the young man who stood up for you.

“Thanks for that,” You studied the male in front of you. He looked to be about the same age as you, and he had a streak of white within his raven colored hair.

“Its no big deal, (Y/N). It’s what I’m here for.” He winked as he leaned against the bar.

“How do you know my name? I never told you my name.” You backed up slightly.

“What do you mean? (Y/N) its me. You know, Jason, your best friend???? We’ve know each other for years??” He grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him.

“I um, don’t remember my childhood. The doctors said a traumatic event caused my brain to forget everything about that time so I have no memories before the age 18, so, I don’t know who you are and I’d appreciate it if let go of my hand.” Jason let go of your hand as he stood up from his seat.

“Out of all the possible outcomes, it HAD to be this one. The worst I was expecting was, “Oh Jason! I thought you were dead!” Then you would slap me for dying and we’d go grab something to eat at (Y/F/P) and talk about all the shit I missed. I must be fucking cursed or something.” Something about the way he spoke made him seem so familiar, like a memory was trying to resurface.

“Keep talking, I think you talking is helping me remember,” You walked around the bar, now standing face to face with the man in question.

“Well, you and I were really close. I remember this one time you beat me up cause I was doing something stupid so you slapped the sense back into me. You gave me the idea to steal the wheels off the batmobile, that was fun. You’ve been there for me through thick and thin, and I love you (Y/N/N).” That name, (Y/N/N), It sent you into a flashback, actually it sent you into multiple flashbacks to times when you were both kids. You remember him becoming Robin, and him dying- the traumatic event that must have occurred in your childhood.

You pulled Jason into a bone crushing hug. “I love you too you idiot. But if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll resurrect you them kill you myself.”

Jason started smiling like a goofball, “Ahh that’s the (Y/N/N) I remember.”

tea time for eruriweek. prompt: delusional ghosts

(for reincarnation)

some days are harder than others when he remembers.

levi is understanding. patient. but even he wears thin at times. and levi knows that when the office door is closed and the light leaks from under it, that erwin needs time to be alone.

the whiskey is strong. tastes like medicine and it provides temporary relief like one. he did this back then too, when death counts had the time to catch up to him in the minutes before dawn, where the dead freely walked in that witching hour–haunting him.

he remembers a name. it’s the first time he remembers it. mike. and not enough alcohol and sedate the guilt, even though he tries. back then, he found time to mourn mike when he laid in his sick bed with a bandage packed tightly around a missing arm. any tears he shed were not for himself. an arm would not grant him passage into heaven, it would not bring back those he loved from the dead. 

he missed them.

he misses them.

he tries not to talk about them. but he wants levi to remember. he wonders if he talks about them enough that there will be a spark of recognition in his beautiful gray eyes. instead, levi listens as if erwin were talking about imaginary friends. like a man playing with dolls. he compliments his imagination, tells him he should write. he might have the next best seller on his hands.

erwin’s not crazy. he’s not crazy. he tells himself this over and over until the bottle is gone and he’s wrapped around the bathroom toilet with his head pressed firmly against the cold porcelain. he’s not crazy. he’s not crazy.

eric.” levi’s voice is quiet. he sits down with his legs crossed and runs a cool finger against erwin’s sweating brow. “you need to stop doing this.”

“i’m not crazy.” erwin mutters, and the words outloud make his stomach tighten in pain. “levi, i’m not crazy.”

levi doesn’t correct him. his name isn’t levi in this life, but he knows erwin is having an episode. the doctors have taught him how to deal with these situations. “you aren’t.” he says softly, petting erwin’s face until his breathing evens out.

“mike. levi. mike. he was our comrade. he was my best friend…” erwin screws his eyes shut and maybe it’s the alcohol that shoots the pain through his brain or it’s the memory. “i never thought… i let myself get too close.”

“you’re human.”

“it hurt so bad, levi. it hurts.” erwin tries to look at levi but the tears are so thick they blur everything and he rests his head back down. “i killed so many.”

“you didn’t kill anybody.”

“i killed them all. oh my god…” and he remembers what it was like to die, and in this life, where he doesn’t command armies, he lets himself sob out on the floor of his suburban home.

“eric…” levi says softly.

“erwin!” erwin shouts, and he’s trying to lift himself off the ground before levi offers assistance. “i want to hear you say it. please. please.”

levi looks at him, blinks slowly. he’s supposed to keep erwin calm, not play too deep into the delusion so he can’t claw back out. but he loves him. he doesn’t know the strings of fate that have tied them so close together across lives, but he loves him. “ok, erwin.”

there’s a silence. erwin’s breath catches and he stares wide eyed at levi. hoping for something. anything. it feels so right when he says the name, wants him to remember it drawling off his tongue like an accent from a language long since forgotten.


oh god, please remember anything.

“let’s get you to bed, commander.”

Remember Me

Lafayette x Reader

Modern AU

Author(s): Lil Laddie

Words: 1475

Warnings: Comas, memory loss, hospitals, slight angst

Request: a fic pls where laf wakes up from a coma and remembers everything and everyone exept for reader and when reader goes in to be like “o my god” bc they were together but laf just doesn’t remember her and gets scared and tells her to leave - @whitestorm547

A/N: Hey kids! I hope I did okay with this request! Angst isn’t my strong suit, but I am trying to work on it and improve it. I did love writing this because I love writing for Lafayette. Requests will be open soon, we just need to finish writing a couple more. Have an amazing day! Love you cuties!

Lafayette opened his eyes to blinding white lights on the ceiling. There was a heartbeat monitor beeping loudly in his ear. He slowly sat up, wondering what had happened and how he had gotten in a hospital.

“He’s awake!” A nurse yelled, running into the hospital room with a doctor following closely behind them.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as the nurse checked his vitals.

“I feel fine, just a slight headache.” Laf croaked, his voice raspy and dry.

“Do you know your name?” The doctor asked, the nurse still rushing around the two.

“Yes, my name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.” Laf said, the doctor cracking a smile at the long name.

The doctor continued on asking a series of simple questions dealing with his memory. His vitals checked out fine and the doctor didn’t see any gaps in his memory. He would be able to go home the next morning. The doctor called his emergency contact leaving Laf alone in the hospital room.

Laf expected to see Hercules, John or Alex come bursting through the door. He was sorely mistaken when instead, you ran into the room with tears rushing down your face.

“Laf, oh my god!” You sobbed, running up to hug him as Laf’s friends waited out in the hallway to give the two of you privacy.

“Get off me!” Laf yelled, pushing you away from him. “Who are you?” Laf’s face was contorted in confusion and fear.

“Laf it’s me, (Y/N).” You said, reaching your hand out for his.

“How do you know who I am? Where’s Alex, Hercules and John?” Laf asked, quickly moving out of reach from your touch.

“They are out in the hallway…Laf don’t you remember me?” You asked, a sob trying to crawl it’s way up your throat.

“I have never met you before, now leave! I want to see my friends!” Laf said, feeling vulnerable with the stranger trying to get so close to him.

“Laf…” You trailed off, more tears rushing down your face.

“Go!” Laf practically screamed at you.

You scurried out of the room, the boys in the hallway looking up at your panicked expression. You shoved them into the room, ignoring their worried and questioning looks about what had just happened between you and Laf.

“Mon amis!” Laf cheered, seeing his three best friends enter the room.

“Laf, you’re okay!” Hercules yelled, being the first to rush to his side. The others boys followed quickly after him, yelling their own cries of relief.

“Dude, what’d you say to make (Y/N) cry?” John asked, his face still scrunched up in worry.

“Who’s that?” Laf asked tilting his head in confusion.

“They were in here just before us. You two have been dating for over a year.” Alex explained, nervously exchanging looks with the other boys that sat around Laf’s hospital bed.

“I was dating them? That can’t be true. I don’t remember them at all!” Laf shook his head in disbelief.

“I guess your memory isn’t as stable as the doctor thought.” Hercules sighed, his posture slumping slightly.

“My memory is perfectly fine! That person has never been apart of my life!” Laf defended himself.

“I’ll go explain this to the doctor.” Alex said, walking towards the door and ignoring Lafayette’s protests.

“Laf, trust us. We’re just trying to help you.” John explained calmly as Laf grew more anxious and angry at the boys.

“If you were trying to help me, you would get that person away from me. I don’t want them to be apart of my life, I don’t know them! I don’t want to know them!” Laf yelled, using his anger as a protective way to hide how scared he actually was. How could he not remember something vital to his life?

“Laf, please listen to us…” Hercules pleaded, placing a gentle hand on Laf’s arm.

“If they are so important to me then I would have remembered them. Obviously, they didn’t matter much.” Laf huffed.

You sat next to the door hearing the words Lafayette said against you. Laf wanted nothing to do with you. You could feel your heart being shattered. You sobbed harder, hearing his words and protests. The man you loved more than anything no longer loved you. What could hurt worse?


“Take him and home and go through your normal routine. Something may trigger his memory of you. This will most likely be temporary, but don’t expect him to remember you right away.” The doctor explained to you as you signed the release forms.

“Thank you.” You forced a smile to him before he walked away.

“You’re taking me home?” Laf asked, rubbing his arm nervously.

“Well, we do live together.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh, well lead the way…” Laf seemed much less angry than before, he was finally letting you see how scared he was by this whole situation.

Laf followed you out of the hospital and to your car, getting into the passenger seat. When you started the engine, the mixtape Laf had made for you began to play. You watched him perk up as “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John blasted through the speakers.

“You listen to this song too?” Laf asked, his body relaxing into the seat as one of his favorite songs played.

“Yeah, you always blasted this music through the apartment on your days off.” You giggled at the memory.

Laf nodded, before turning to stare out the window. The rest of the drive was quiet except for the mixtape that seemed to never run out of songs. When you pulled up to the apartment complex, you were relieved to get out of the car and the obvious awkward tension it had.

Laf followed closely behind you, not saying a word as you trekked up the many flights of stairs. By the time you got to the top, both of you were extremely out of breath.

“This is our home.” You smiled, pushing open the door that held so many memories.

“Wow.” Laf breathed out a happy sigh as he entered the house that was decorated mostly by him.

“You’re an amazing decorator.” You grinned, entering the house after Laf.

“I did do a good job.” Laf smirked, before it faded as he noticed the wall of photos in the living room. “Are those all of us?”

“Yup, all the adventures we’ve had so far.” You said, watching Laf study the wall of photos. Hopefully one of them would spark his memory.

“What’s going on in this one?” Laf chuckled, pointing at a photo where Laf and you were at a roller rink with the rest of the gang dressed in 80’s clothing.

“That’s 80’s skate night! They hold it once a week at the roller rink down the street. We go with the gang almost every week. That was the first time we went. It was about a year ago.” You explained, Laf watching your face light up as you remembered how fun those nights were.

Lafayette felt a pang of guilt hit him. He may not remember you, but you had so many amazing memories with him. He could tell how much it hurt you to go through this. He just wanted take away all your pain. Because of these thoughts, Laf knew that he used to love you more than anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, taking Laf out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with this.” Laf apologized, his brows furrowed in concern for you.

“Deal with what?” You asked, completely oblivious to where his guilt was coming from.

“I don’t remember you and that causes you pain. I want to remember, I really do! I’m sorry for what I said earlier in the hospital, I was scared and that was the only way I felt I could protect myself. I’m sorry I don’t remember you or the relationship we had. If it helps you at all, I can tell from these pictures and how I feel around you now, that I did love you. Maybe, I still love you. I don’t really know.” Laf rambled, everything he had been bottling up since he woke up spilled out of him.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re alive.” You smiled sadly, pulling him into a tight hug that he gladly returned. “Take your time to remember, until then we can create new memories. I still love you Laf, even if you don’t feel that way anymore.”

Laf held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let go. You were giving him comfort in a time where he couldn’t find peace. He didn’t know if he would ever remember you again, but even if he didn’t, he could already tell that you were made for him.


By pure happenstance, Clara runs into a younger Doctor after she parts ways with the twelfth. The younger Doctor is already traveling with the younger version of herself and Clara, envious and desperate, takes the eleventh Doctor with her for a few last adventures. The Doctor, confused yet impressed at how much Clara has changed, gladly joins her in her TARDIS. They share a bit of time together, but Clara knows he eventually has to return to her old self. With heavy regret and a broken heart, Clara says goodbye to the Doctor again, sadly erases his memory and drops him back where she found him. 

Sometimes, the Doctor dreams of Clara with a haircut and her own sonic screwdriver and a brilliantly white TARDIS, and he doesn’t know why. He’s seen so much, he’s probably jumbling his memories together. The Doctor resumes traveling with his Clara, neither of them knowing how much both of them are going to live through and deal with. Sometimes, Clara and Me will pop in for a secretive visit, and every time the Doctor sees something out of the corner of his eye, or Clara sees a brief and strange reflection of herself behind her in the mirror, they’re with them. Always.

  • what she says: I'm fine
  • what she means: I just need to know the logistics of Tentoo and Rose's relationship like was it a natural thing that they both loved each other and just fell into their life?? Did Rose have to learn to love Tentoo with time because it technically wasn't her doctor? How did Tentoo cope with knowing that no matter what he's always be the copy of what Rose wanted, always second best? How long was Rose hung up on the real Doctor if she ever was at all how many times does she still think about him and Tentoo has to comfort her with empty promises how often does Tentoo thank every star in the galaxy that he got the better end of the deal when did Rose fall completely in love with Tentoo to the point that they made their own memories how did they manage-

anonymous asked:

(Jamie Jupiter) I heard that the Doctor was abducted and had his memories taken from him. If you see these extraterrestrials again, please let me know so I can deal with them. Protecting this world against other worldly aggressors is my duty. In the meantime, though, I have a few ideas of how to jog his memory if you think it might help.

Yep. I never saw them so you’ll have to ask him or Mysterio. Do tell.

William, Will.I’m.Not

Sum: Hannibal visits Will after his seizure and Will is different than expected.

Will was asleep, completely unaware of the happenings going on around him.

The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with him. Encephalitis was difficult to find if one wasn’t directly looking for it. Since he’d already had an MRI done and ‘no results’ had been found, no one would think to do another one.

He set about preparing the nearby table for their lunch. No doubt Will would be extremely hungry when he awoke. Hannibal could then gauge his mental health and see where to go from there.

There was an indrawn breath that certainly didn’t come from him and he glanced up to see Will staring at him. He didn’t look tired, nor did he look like he’d just been sleeping. His eyes were incredibly clear and what Hannibal noticed immediately, was that Will was making direct eye contact with him.

Will almost never did that.

The brunet sat up easily, not bothering to ask for assistance when it was obvious that he did need it. His head tilted just slightly to the left as he regarded Hannibal and then the bowls of hot soup Hannibal had been working with.

“It smells delicious.”

There was curious lilt to Will’s voice, but Hannibal simply smiled serenely and nodded. “Silkie chicken in a brother. A black-boned bird prized in China for its medicinal values since the 7th century. Wolfberries, ginseng, ginger, red dates, and star anise.”

Will stared at the bowls for a second longer before looking up at Hannibal with bright curiosity. The eye contact was still being maintained.

“What did I do to deserve you?” was finally asked, much to Hannibal’s confusion.

“Excuse me?”

A decidedly playful grin stretched across Will’s lips, eyelids falling half mast as he watched Hannibal closely. “I mean, we must be close if you’re willing to visit me in the hospital and bring me fancy, chicken soup, darling.”

Hannibal decided to ignore the incorrect term for his masterpiece, instead focusing on something more interesting. Curiously, there was an accent to Will’s words, but not anything Hannibal had heard in America. He sounded English. Posh would be a better term to describe the caress Will’s voice gave to his words.

“Are you my lover?”

And then there was that.

“Will, do you know who I am?” Hannibal asked, mentally running through the probability of seizures ruining memory. Probabilities were high.

“It’s William, actually,” the man corrected, still smirking. “I’m afraid I don’t remember a gem like you very much. It’s quite a shame, isn’t it, darling?”

Hannibal was speechless for just a moment. Will did not know who Hannibal was and he was acting completely different. In fact, Hannibal would go so far as to say he was flirting.

The doctor busied himself with setting the table for their meal, wondering how he’d deal with this and also wanting to know if the nurses were aware.

“My name is Hannibal Lecter,” he said. “I am your unofficial psychiatrist and friend, nothing more.”

There was a light tsking sound, “Well that’s a pity, isn’t it? We’ll need to remedy that right away, won’t we, darling?”

Hannibal turned abruptly, shocked to find that Will had somehow managed to cross the ten feet from his bed to the table without making a sound.

“At least as my ‘unofficial psychiatrist’, there will be no breach in protocol for our incoming relationship, Hannibal,” Will purred, seating himself almost regally, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap.

“You… seem so certain that a relationship beyond what we have already will be formed,” Hannibal said, strategically retreating to watch this new Will more, under the guise of fetching the rest of their meal.

“It’s not just your visit, darling. The way you watched me from the doorway and how you trailed those hands over my dampened brow spoke enough volumes to me. Tell me, why aren’t we romantically involved if you so obviously want more?”

Hannibal was uncomfortable with this new Will. He was insightful and daring and had no trouble keep his eyes on Hannibal’s own. He spoke his and Hannibal’s minds and was deadly on point. It was worrisome as well as intriguing.

“You have never given any indication that you fancy any but the fairer sex, Will. It took months for you to even look at me without scorn, simply because you did not like my profession. Only recently have you begun to consider me as a friend in return. Not to mention your fragile health in regards to your work with the FBI. I would not wish to push you where you are uncomfortable,” he lied smoothly, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You’re such a fibber, Hannibal.”

The doctor frowned.

“I can see it easily as if you said it aloud. You enjoy pushing buttons and no doubt have pushed my own. You’re the type to invade personal space just to see what your prey will do. I have flashes of you cornering me against a ladder in a large, opulent room. Tell me again how you don’t push where I’m uncomfortable?”

This new Will saw through him like he was transparent. A window perhaps. He wasn’t sure what to make of this.

“I wouldn’t push you too much,” he amended, knowing that this Will would catch on to his lies easily.

“Exactly, darling. May I start, this smells heavenly.”

Hannibal nodded as he poured their tea, trying not to replay the practically filthy moan that passed Will’s lips when he tasted the soup, over and over in his memory palace.

This Will looked like he was prepared for a long bout of lovemaking, or perhaps he’d just come from such a bout. He was in control, not fearful of anything, enjoyed their little game, caught Hannibal off guard a few times, and was simply interesting to be in the company of.

Hannibal sat finally, taking to his own food. “Do the nurses know that you have memory loss?” he asked conversationally, wondering if maybe he should say something or see how it dragged out.

If he told, then Jack would be informed and he couldn’t possibly bring Will into the field when Will didn’t know himself. And if Will did not know himself, he’d need to be taken care of… and Hannibal had a rather large home and could be quite accommodating if need be.

“They wouldn’t know the other me from this me so they’ve assumed I’m fine. I was under the impression that after traumatic experiences, the patient is supposed to be asked if they know who they are and where they are to affirm lack of memory loss. This hospital is obviously lacking. And the staff is so rude.”

Hannibal latched into that last word. Will was shaking his head in disapproval as he sipped some more broth from the spoon.

“‘Rude’ how?” he asked, frowning. He despised rudeness.

“Apparently I’m wasting their time since a seizure isn’t so bad as to require hospitalization. The nurse who ‘watched over’ me last night was quite the mouthy little cuss about it.”

Hannibal felt irritation well up within. He glanced at the board on the far wall that told who Will’s nurses were. So… Janine thought Will’s illness wasn’t important enough for her precious time? Hannibal would have to rectify that line of thinking.

“You look like you want to murder someone, darling,” Will said, bringing his admittedly murderous thoughts to a screeching halt.

“In fact, the closer I look, the more dangerous you appear,” continued the new Will. “Tell me, what sort of baggage do you have, Hannibal?”

Will was leaning on the table now, eyes completely fixed on him, food forgotten.

“You are dangerous,” he breathed. “There is death in your eyes and you’re the cause of it. My my, how erotic this is! I caught the interest of a killer!”

Will does not look scared. In fact, his eyes have dilated and pulse quickened but not by fear. Anticipation.

“The other me doesn’t see you as what you are,” continued Will. “He and I… we are separate beings. I am not always awake, normally too tired to pay attention to his life. The effort it takes to read through his memories is not worth my time. I do what I do and when I tire again, I retreat. And he won’t remember our discussion. He simply thinks he’s losing time.” A dry laugh, “If he only knew what I get up to when he’s unconscious.”

There was a nearly inhuman smile on Will’s lips now. His words caught up to Hannibal swiftly and the doctor was floored. Will had Dissociative Identity Disorder. This new Will who preferred to be known as William, wasn’t actually his Will. He was just another personality.

“I see you understand. Good. Now… are you ever going to tell Will about the Encephalitis or do I need to start dropping hints all over his house until he gets the picture? I would much prefer to be with you than against you and since he seems to view you as a pillar of strength, it would be in your best interest to keep him happy. I have no morals. I am not like him. I won’t hesitate to hurt or kill anyone if it means my continued survival is ensured.”

Hannibal did not like not being in control of the situation… but this could certainly work in his favor if he tried hard enough. He was a master of manipulation after all.

“And good Will isn’t as innocent as you think, Hannibal,” grinned William. “Now… about that relationship I mentioned. I really like rough sex and Will adores being cherished, so you’ll have to work those together somehow.”

Just what… had Hannibal gotten into?

Considering making this a fic. Should I?

10 reasons why Clara needs to come back at least once

I was just reading some user comments on Den of Geek, where there is plenty of Moffat and Clara Oswald hate to go around, and ignoring those who just have something against the two for whatever reason, I read a few legitimate comments about why they feel Clara should never appear again on Doctor Who. I thought I’d respond with a list of reasons why she should appear one more time.

Note I said one more time, not multiple episodes, just once (notwithstanding a cameo at regeneration time a la Amy). I remember how upset people were when Martha Jones came along and was completely overshadowed by the memory of Rose in Series 3. And in Series 4 Donna only got about 3 episodes on her own; the rest of the time she was competing against Martha, Rose, Jack, Sarah Jane, Mickey, Jackie - even River Song. So it would be unfair to Pearl Mackie and Matt Lucas for their spotlight to be completely taken by Jenna Coleman. But we still need one. After the jump: my reasons why.

Keep reading

Protect Scott McCall at all Costs

Alright, so here we go with my rant. Watch me get some hate for this, but whatever.

For all of you who are hating on the sunshine that is Scott McCall, stop. Now. Firstly, and foremost, you’re getting annoyed at Scott for trusting Theo? Are you kidding me? Keep in mind, Stiles went multiple weeks without telling Scott about killing Donovan. WEEKS. So when Theo presents a freaking wrench stained with blood and tells Scott that Stiles ruthlessly caved Donovan’s head in, especially after all the bad blood between Donovan and the Stilinskis, what did you expect to happen? On top of that, Stiles is unaware that Scott is under this impression so of course he’s not going to outright go “Hey, Scotty, by the way, it was scaffolding.” No, the two are in a misunderstanding and with Hayden inside of the clinic, more than likely DYING, Scott is clearly overwhelmed by what’s going on. Besides, after having Stiles keep this from him for so long, what was he supposed to think? And while I don’t blame Stiles, I understand why he didn’t say anything, think about how his best friend feels. How you would feel if you were in Scott’s position.

Second, people are hating on this ray of sunshine for not giving Hayden the bite. First of all, she had been genetically modified already. She has artificial claws and fangs, as well as eyes. How do you think the real bite will mix with that? For all we know, that could kill her. You don’t think Scott doesn’t want to save her? He’s Scott McCall, he would go to the moon and back to save someone he doesn’t even know. Scott knows the risks, especially after Paige and Derek, and how would Liam react if it was Scott’s bite who killed her?

Third, he just lost Kira. While I’m frustrated he didn’t outright tell her what was happening with her fox spirit, that is without a doubt painful for Scott to deal with. On top of that, Scott is also trying to figure out how to save everyone when he barely has any understanding of what the Doctors want. He has no idea how to even help them and he’s running around trying to do what he’s always done. Leading to him invading Corey’s memories. He was desperate to find Liam and Hayden, yet everyone is against this? Scott is panicking and overwhelmed with everything happening, he’s still a teenager. How do you expect him to react if his beta was missing?

Honestly, I’m getting so sick of all of this character hate! Stop hating on Scott McCall! Stop hating on Malia Tate! Stop hating on Stiles Stilinski! Stop hating on Kira Yukimura! Stop hating on Lydia Martin! Stop!!

Treat them like the sunshine they are.