#Angor Rot is human and I'm not sorry at all

[theoldandnewfirm]

Strange and Unusual (nsfw) // Unfinished Snippets Series

I'm clearing some mental space by going through my many WIPs and posting the ones I've completely stalled on.

This was meant to be my smutty contribution to stricklakerot, with Barbara and Walter introducing Angor Rot to the strange human practice known as oral, but the snippet is just Barbara/Angor. Enjoy!

------

Angor Rot had endured indignities beyond remembering during his centuries as Morgana's thrall, and yet this one, undertaken of his own free will, might trump them all.

He knelt on a sheet on the floor of Barbara's living room with his rump in the air while she examined his "downstairs situation" as she'd called it. He resisted the urge to squirm beneath the weight of her silent scrutiny. Imagine exposing himself in such a way, only for her to determine that this whole endeavor was for naught.

The thought alone made him itch for the simplicity of combat; at least there those who witnessed his humiliations would not survive to share them.

More seconds ticked by in silence before his discomfort won out. "Well?"

"Yup," she said, "I think this will work."

---

"This" was the result of his own foolishness. He hadn’t meant to intrude on his host’s evening that day or, having done so, to linger. But the scene in the living room--the changeling on the sofa, legs spread, and Barbara kneeling like a supplicant between them—had been too strange to ignore.

So he'd watched them, brow furrowed, trying to understand. But when their motions had ceased and Barbara had clambered up to take a more familiar position on the changeling's lap, he felt no more enlightened than he'd been at the start.

He did not enjoy ignorance. He'd turned the moment over in his mind for days, searching for an analogue for the act in his (admittedly limited) knowledge of troll mating practices and finding none. It would be too dangerous. There were teeth. And troll tongues were meant for scraping flesh from bone; no sane troll would invite one anywhere near their gronk-nuks.

What he'd seen was uniquely human, then, and he couldn't fathom how the changeling had found pleasure in it. There was, however, a way to find out.

"Your people--do they partner freely?"

"Sorry?" Barbara said, punctuating the statement with a yawn. She handed him a mug of the drink humans called coffee before turning her attention to modifying her own with a variety of powders and liquids.

"Fleshbags. Do they take multiple partners in--" he fished for the term, "sex?"

"Hoo boy. One moment," she said. She took a long swig of her coffee. Then, "Okay. So do you mean at the same time, or over the course of the relationship?"

"Relationship?"

"Ah, right. Um. Bond?"

He considered this. "Both."

"Some bonded humans do take on multiple partners, yes. Sometimes just for a night, sometimes for months or years. There are a lot of names for those kinds of relationships, but generally the former is called 'open' and the latter is called 'polyamorous.' "

"Interesting," he said.

"Why do you ask?"

He leaned against the counter; when he spoke again it was to his mug rather than her. "I wish to try a human sex practice with you."

Her cheeks took on the pink hue he'd learned was indicative of emotional distress. She made several noises that didn't graduate to actual words until finally she squeaked out, "Is this--is this about the other night?"

He looked up sharply. Taking that for the confirmation it was she continued, "We were having a date night and…didn't move things upstairs when we should have. Walt said you might have seen us…?"

While he was reluctant to give the changeling credit for anything, managing to detect him while so distracted was impressive. "He was correct."

There was a tang of fear in the air like the distress of a hunted thing now caught. She bit her lip. "Sorry."

"Apology is unnecessary. You are free to do as you wish in your home."

"Yeah, but…consent…" she shook her head slightly. "I shouldn't have done that. But I didn't expect that you would be--" she looked him over from horntips to feet; there was an appraising quality to it. "Anyway. I need to talk to Walt first. Can I get back to you?"

If the venture came down to the changeling's decision, Angor had little hope it would be approved. But now that he understood how their relationship worked, refusal might be the better outcome: for if the changeling agreed, what would he demand in return?

------

After completing her examination Barbara bade him sit. There were two objects on the floor in front of her: a clear bottle of liquid, and something that resembled an abstract phallus.

"I want to make sure you're comfortable with everything before we start," she said.

"I doubt there's anything you can do to me that I cannot endure," he said. Still, he eyed the phallus suspiciously.

"I don't want you to endure. I want you to enjoy it. So if you're not enjoying it tell me, okay?"

Consideration was a luxury Angor had never enjoyed; to be offered it so freely and often by Barbara made him feel like there was something alive and squirming in his chest. He was still unsure what to make of it. "Very well."

"Your penis--er--vamek retracts, correct?" she asked.

When he nodded she continued, "So we've got to get it to extend. I'm not a troll, obviously, so I can't emit pheromones or wrestle or any of the other things you guys would normally do to get each other 'in the mood'. So, we've got to take a shortcut."

She nodded towards his gronk-nuks. "The separation between your…racsik and vamek are thin. If I directly stimulate the former it will trigger your vamek to extend. That's what this is for."

She picked up the phallus. It was roughly the length of her forearm and as wide around as his thumb. It wobbled slightly as she held it.

"You mean to put that inside me?" he said, reeling back.

"I know it sounds weird, but trust me." She handed it to him. "We call them dildos, or sex toys. Here, it's not as stiff as it looks."

She was right; the material flexed easily in his grip. It seemed to be made of a rubber of some kind, one not too different in texture from the softer stone of his vamek.

"And here--" She squeezed some of the liquid onto his hand; it was cool and slightly viscous. "This is called lube. Well, technically lubricant, but everyone just calls it lube. When I apply some of this to the toy and you, it'll help it slide in easier."

He looked from the lube, to the toy, then to her. "This is really what you and the changeling do?"

"It is. Well, the first part anyway. The part you were interested in happens after."

His mind whirred. He'd said he could endure anything, but the thought of someone rooting around his most sensitive tissue made him want to cross his legs forever.

"Hey."

Her words startled him out of his thoughts. She was smiling gently at him. "We can stop if you want to, Angor. It's okay."

That strange, squirming thing awoke once more. "No," he said. "I trust you."

---

She didn't try and jam the dildo in right away; for that he was grateful. Instead she drizzled a little more lube over his opening and slowly massaged it into the surrounding stone with her thumbs. Nerves he'd only been dimly aware of before now crackled to attention. It was…not unpleasant.

What would it feel like to have that gentle touch inside him? But, no--that's what the dildo was for. The stiff rubber held less appeal, but perhaps driven by her skilled hands…

He was yanked from his thoughts by her thumbs skating over his ring proper. It was no accident: now she traced slow, teasing circles on the skin, and pressed gently against its resistance. He only just managed to quell the disgraceful noise that threatened to leave his throat as he arched into the contact.

She hummed. "Very good. I think you're ready."

Her touch vanished. He heard the click of the bottle of lube, followed by more of the cool substance spilling over his stone. A moment later her hand settled on his hip, and something hard and slick--the toy, he assumed--pressed against his opening.

"Breathe out," she said, "and relax."

He did as commanded. And then, she pushed.

The lube had done its work: there was no pain. Only the strangeness of the object inside him, and his body's eagerness to draw it deeper.

"Perfect," she cooed. "You're doing so well, Angor. How does it feel?"

Empty. He needed--

"More."

She obliged, entering him with almost frustrating care. He rocked back, willing her to move faster. Instead she tsked and paused.

"Patience," she said.

He grunted. "You torment me."

"I don't want to hurt you…"

"I'm not a whelp, Barbara. I don't need to be coddled."

She sighed. "Well, if you're sure."

And then, all at once, she drove the toy home.

Pleasure burst through his entire frame. He gripped the sheets, eyes wide with shock.

Barbara laughed. "Found it, did I?"

"What--" she pulled the toy back, then drove it forward again. More pleasure, hot and sharp, spilling from some point deep inside him. "What is that?"

"Prostate," she answered. "Surprisingly you guys aren't built much differently than humans. Well, minus the extra stomach and liver. And whatever a razvo is. Feels good, right?"

"Yes," he fisted the sheets in his hands so tightly that his clawtips bit into his palms. "Yes."

His body gave him no choice: he had to rut, to feel those shocks sparking from his core. And Barbara obliged, plunging the toy into him with short, quick strokes that jarred the breath from his lungs.

"Hm," she said, "looks like it's working."

And then--her grip on his vamek, squeezing. It was as she'd said: the stimulation had drawn it out. Her hand was too small to encircle it entirely but her touch was enough to complete a circuit between rear and fore, settings his nerves alight. More--a little more, and then--

She stopped.

"Why?" he snarled, twisting around to glower at her.

She smiled and shrugged one shoulder. "We can keep going if you want, but as I recall, this wasn't what you wanted to learn about today."

He'd wanted to learn…? Oh. The "oral." Yes. He swallowed. "It…is as pleasurable as that?"

"Hm. Subjective, I think. How about this: we can try, and if you don't like it, we'll go back to anal. Deal?"

The toy was still inside him, its pressure a reminder of the release that had been so near. But she was right--tonight, it was a means to a different end. And he was nothing if not patient, even now.

He sighed. "Very well."

The oral required a different position, similar to the one that had first caught his attention on that night: he lying flat, legs bent and knees spread, and Barbara kneeling between them. Foolish of him to think she'd been a supplicant before the changeling; he understood now that she held all the power in this strange territory. Though, judging by her expression as she stared at his vamek, she was uncertain of how to wield it.

"Huh," she said. "That's--big. Wow."

He frowned. "Humans are not equally equipped?"

"No! God, no. Are you kidding? That would split someone in half!"

He put care into his next question; having already erred once, he was hesitant to do so again. "You…cannot copulate with trolls, then?"

"I--" she bit her lip; it seemed she too did not wish to misstep. "I think it depends on size? Of the troll, I mean. You're--" she arced a hand high over her head, "--and some are--" she pressed downward until her hand rested at roughly hip height. "I don't have a…variety of experience, obviously, but around here--" now she drew a line at roughly the changeling's height "it seems more compatible. Don't get me wrong, it still takes a LOT of adjusting, but…"

She trailed off, flushing, before reaching over to grip his shaft with both hands. "Anyway, I think I can make this work."

[arcadiaoaksusedbooks]

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

What is your OC’s ‘‘darkness moment’’ in the plot?

What is your OC’s redemption moment?

HOW DID I JUST NOW SEE THIS AOIGJAOGIAN I'M SO SORRY

So, I summarized Nadia's original story years ago, and to answer these questions I'll have to retell the ending again. Also, side note, this story was written before Wizards premiered, so the Battle of Killahead is very different in Nadia's original story.

With the battle won, the bridge closed, Gunmar and his forces sealed away forever, Nadia realizes she lost her sister, Alora behind the bridge as well. The two bonded very closely, Alora teaching Nadia about trolls, troll culture and how the Gumgums think, strategize and respond to any battle, while Nadia was teaching Alora the beauty of the world around her and the good that humans have done. Little did Nadia realize that Alora PLANNED on being trapped behind the bridge for all eternity, to be locked in eternal combat with her ex-husband Gunmar until one of them perished.

What's the worst thing Nadia has done in her story?

She uses her magic to summon Nadia back from the bridge. This was extremely risky because if she was locked in combat with Gunmar, which everyone topside was just assuming was happening (they were right), she could possibly bring him back with her if they were touching and it would have undone everything! Several trolls, including Vendel, were desperately trying to stop her. However, she succeeds in bringing back Alora by herself, leaving Gunmar in the depths with no family at all, and Alora has been bitter about being saved since. This was also the moment most trolls broke their friendship, bonds and trust with Nadia. Blinky was also crying at her "my brother was swept behind the bridge! Bring him back too!" Nadia's selfishness to bring back her sister haunted her for the rest of her life.

Darkest moment and redemption moment?

Ah, I left out a crucial detail to the last bit there. To summon a person to your side, you need their name. Their true name. The one given to them at birth. Because Alora wasn't given a name as a baby and for the first eighteen years of life, it was impossible to summon her. So, Nadia made contact with Angor Rot.

As stated in the past story summary, Angor Rot was the main antagonist to the story's second act. He and Nadia were enemies, he was the Shard Killer, and Nadia was a brand new Shard that he could manipulate a soul out of. As Angor does, he bided his time and manipulated her through the story to be mentally vulnerable to him. Their relationship was toxic, however, she learned a lot of magic from him. And she knew he knew how to find a true name of a person. He was willing to give that information, in exchange for her soul, the very thing making her immortal and giving her magic. She agreed.

It took another two hundred years, but he came to collect. Nadia didn't die without her soul, but complained about being cold all the time. She officially retired from wizardry after that, unable to use magic at all, lived a fulfilling life as a human, and eventually passed from old age. How was this redeeming? It isn't. Nadia lives the rest of her life with knowing that while her friends and sisters are safe, she's the reason they needed to be protected. She passes away with guilt and regret. And eventually, Alora is the last Shard of the four left alive, in retirement in a beach town, living up the party life during the day and watching the ocean at night, always wondering what if.

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Chapter 16 of Challenging Destiny

Sorry for the delay! But I finally managed to wrangle this chapter into being completed.

In which Jim discovers he's become a half-troll (sort of) due to potions in Gatto’s keep, and Angor Rot has become human. So Jim proceeds to adjust with help from a certain changeling.

Claire gets a visitor in the dead of night.

[anindecisivespirit]

(Trollhunters spoilers!)

Angor Rot really did deserve better.

His soul was stolen and he was basically a slave for who even knows how long, and then every time he died (except the last) he was forcefully brought right back to serve again.

He tried to work with Jim, made a deal that would benifit both of them greatly- and sure, we can't know for sure if he would have honored his end of things, but I do believe he would've. Like. At this point, he has nothing really personal against Jim- maybe Claire after she took the staff but that's not quite important here. He does have VERY personal problems with Strickler and Morgana (who Gunmar serves and is going to free if he gets out, which Strickler's plans were leading to)- so severing the soulbond with Barbara and killing Strickler would be easy, bring justice to Strickler and prevent Morgana's return. Also, it is a very good "thanks for my soul back (sort of), sorry for trying to slaughter you and your friends, lets never interact again" gift for Jim.

He flipped out and attacked Jim but 1) in his perspective Jim just suddenly appeared in his cave and that's not cool. 2) Jim was very clearly going to try and put the ring on, so I am not going to be blaming Angor for trying to stop/kill him before he could. The man just wants to be free.

He very clearly hates everything Morgana and Gunmar do, though he does stay with them- and sure, he can't be controlled anymore but what was he meant to do? Morgana would have dragged him back if he left and killed/imprisoned/controlled him if he fought against them. I'm sure about this. But he still voices disagreements, he still calls them out, he still saves Draal after empathizing with him.

And then there's the final battle with Morgana, and Angor betrays her. At this point he does have solid reason to hate Jim and all his friends, but stopping Morgana is leagues more important. I don't think he would've turned on them if he'd survived after she was defeated either, I think he'd want to rest. To finally, for once, rest.

But he doesn't survive. Instead, Jim kills him- or at least starts the process. Sure, Angor was restraining Morgana and it was an opportunity that they could not miss, but. Did he have to impale them both? Did he really? Angor isn't even mad, he accepts it, gives a last line, "well played, trollhunter", he might even approve. But did it have to happen? Morgana may finish the job, but he was already dying. The pieces of his statue are, if I remember correctly, sent into the shadow realm.

And then. They don't even kill Morgana. Not because they didn't want to, it's because they couldn't, and I accept that, but. It feels so bitter. It's unfair.

And what happened to Morgana? She's trapped in the shadow realm, imprisoned in the very same place where Angor now lays dead, in pieces. The Witch and her Champion, inseparable even now. (and if she managed to revive him again? a nightmare.)

And maybe the worst thing is what we see in Wizards; they go back in time, Morgana begins her descent into villainy, and she's cast off a cliff into the water below. Dead. And Angor finds her. In this time of war and hate and bloodshed, in this time humans and magic are at each others throats, when Angor has no reason to sympathize with a human... he carries her body to shore.

Angor cares. Angor is kind. Angor doesn't see a fallen enemy or collateral damage- and also, trolls eat humans, Gunmar talks about this, but Angor doesn't fish Morgana's body from the water to eat as if she were some fish or something. Not even close.

He takes her because even if she's dead already she should be shown this respect at least. He lays her on the bank, he prays for her in death, and then he leaves. And the Arcane Order take her body, so easy to find and reach thanks to Angor, and they bring her back to life.

They bring her back and she rises to power and eventually Angor comes to her for help, and we all know how that ends.

Angor cared for the soul of a stranger, and so got his taken away.

[gold-kobold]

Was it common knowledge that NotEnrique eventually teaches Angor Rot about monsterfuckers??? I've been following for a while and this is the first I've heard about it, but I'm dying from laughter all the same 😂

idk if something about the tumblr searching function has changed recently or what, but i've been having a REALLY hard time finding specific posts, so i can't find the original post for you, but i did post a small scene from (what is now going to be) the next chapter in which the concept of "monsterfuckers" is brought up lmao, i dunno how long ago that was, but it woulda been easy to miss, i'm sure xD i'll just post it again here for you lol:

“B’sides, my subs love seein’ ya cameo!” Angor raised one brow, puzzled. “Why?”

After blinking at him a few times, NotEnrique then snickered. “Oh, Spooks... poor, innocent Spooks.” He teased, “So oblivious to the human race’s thirsty, monsterfucker ways.” Further confused, Angor Rot looked to Dictatious for clarification, but the exhausted Conundrum stuck a hand up to halt him before he could even ask. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t have the mental strength to explain that right now.”

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Barbed Tangles- Interlude

This is really super short, but I have the introduction down so I will post the next chapter as quick as possible, and it will most definitely have more words than this I promise.

Because it's so short, there's no preview, I'm sorry, however hopefully no one minds.

Summary: Jim Lake Jr has had one horrible day. After being chased around by an undead, soulless assassin, taking on said assassin's golems, and then killing the assassin, he, and his friends are shocked to find something alive in the remains of the troll. Something far more human. This something is part of a far larger, tangled web of lies and treachery that date back all the way to when one of the most brutal warlords in human history ruled the far north lands of icy Norway; When Dragons ruled the skies; and when Drago's Grim Reaper ruled the land beneath his master's feet in a icy, iron fist.

Characters: Jim Lake Jr, Claire Nunez, Toby Domzalski, Krogan, Angor Rot (Briefly), Drago Bludvist

Ao3

[eclipseisminetocommand]

I completely agree with your rant on mlb! I'm a fan of that show but even I see all the errors. One minute Chloe is a nice person with an actual character, the next minute she's back to square one for some reason. Drama suddenly rises and then the very next episode it's gone. It's like they're switching between two different shows! Plus, where's the lore? We got maybe, 2 or 3 pieces of information on anything on the show. And that's the end of my rant, lol.

i’m still watching it, i watch every episode when they come out, but we’re on hiatus again and no one knows when it’s coming back, what the fuck is up with this airing schedule dude

no character development at all, maybe with marinette that she’s not that clumsy anymore around adrien because hell, that annoyed the SHIT out of me, always stumbling over her words like an idiot, it wasn’t funny, it wasn’t cute just annoying as hell. her general obsession with adrien is really toxic and unhealthy, maybe it’s supposed to be funny but it’s really not?

adrien’s obliviousness towards marinette’s crush is getting irritating even when he saw the bunch of posters of him on the wall (which is,,,not healthy by the way, i don’t know who told the creators that it was ok)

exactly, where. is. the. lore? we have this great concept of ‘hawkmoth wants the two miraculouses to grant him anything he wishes for, most likely his wife to come back, but if he does, the universe will take something away, something equivalent to a human life, adrien’s mayhaps’ but we’re going nowhere!!! we’re getting unnecessary musical episodes (which was…beyond shit btw, i seriously considered stopping with the show all together), hawkmoth’s failed attempts to get the miraculouses every episode (there were some close calls this season, i’ll give them that) and it all comes back to us not getting any quality progression. like i know it’s already been confirmed for like 4 seasons i think? so you gotta keep delaying the big reveal and the whole thing, but that’s why other shows have different adventures every season? you don’t have to keep to the same story for four seasons? or if you do then build up to it like in Trollhunters! three seasons, essentially the same story: you have to defeat Gunmar

season 1: starting out, smaller task, get rid of angor rot and bular

season 2: cross into the darklands, fail to defeat gunmar but give him an opportunity to escape then prepare for the fight, introducing new villain in morgana

season 3: shit goes down, conclusion

THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT. even in filler episodes like “young atlas” and “hero with a thousand faces” they added something to the plot: Jim realizing Strickler is the changeling and then battling his humanity and being reminded that there will come a time where he has to decide between his human life and trollhunter life

but it’s just another akuma, every. damn. episode. with nothing new to learn, like honestly they need to pick up the pace because soon no one will be interested and then your live action movie and every other bullshit nobody asked for will be screwed

wow okay, is this a trollhunters blog or a rant blog, i’m sorry everyone

[gold-kobold]

How To Fight A Shadow

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17: Vultures

Jim speaks at a press conference to address the vicious troll attack on an Arcadian citizen. He and his friends get continuously harassed by the media in the days following, much to the displeasure of his troll and Changeling allies. But, with Dictatious's and Stuart's help, Angor Rot may have found a (nonviolent) solution to the problem.

man, the summaries look so much better indented, why tf have i not done this before now-

HOO MAMA, sorry this one kept gettin' FREAKIN' DELAYED, i kept dozing off like every twenty minutes so i finally gave up and just got some proper sleep lmao i deadass slept for like 16 straight hours kjskdfjsdf staying awake 24/7 is clearly catching up to me, oh no-- thank you guys for your patience, i'm just a dumb ho *sob*

big BIG thanks to all the help i got for brainstorming strickler characterizations on this one!!! i mostly drew from @minty-skull-armour @theoldandnewfirm @littleaipom @elorastory (i didn't source the quote in-text, but it was the fear/ignorance line originally by titus livius lol) @soulsbefore and @pinkytoothlesso11's suggestions for inspiration on this particular chapter, but honestly, shoutout to @days-light and @granny-anthem too because their suggestions were also really good and really helped me during the brainstorming process (and let's be real, i'm probably gonna fall back on these for future chapters too FKJSDKFLGH) and yOU ALL DESERVE CREDIT FOR YOUR GOOD IDEAS DANGIT GFDSFHDFJGKHKJ PLEASE CHECK THESE PEOPLE OUT, THEY'RE COOL--

(might do more editing later, as i'm not sure it's 100% how i want it yet, plus q has not proofread some parts yet so i apologize for any of my mistakes, but ENOUGH STALLING, HERE'S THE THING)

.

.

Jim had been struggling with his tie for longer than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t used to such formal attire.

He could easily go find his mom or Strickler for assistance. But he stuck with squinting at tutorials on his phone screen.

Maybe it was because he didn’t want them to notice how badly his hands were shaking. Maybe the shaking hands were why he was having so much trouble.

There was a knock at the door, then Strickler’s voice through it. “Do you need any help, Young Atlas?”

It was as if he could sense the teenager’s struggling without even entering the room. But still, Jim refused the help.

“I got it.” He called back. “Just, uhh, give me a couple minutes…”

After many of those painstaking minutes, Jim finally managed to get his tie on.

He looked at himself one last time in the mirror for good measure.

His human self.

It was the best form to take for what was to come. Humans that were angry against Trollkind likely wouldn’t take kindly to his other face.

When he felt assured that nothing was amiss, Jim headed for the door.

He opened it to find Strickler waiting in the hallway, a similar outfit on his trollish frame, and a similar expression of discomfort with the situation they were about to get into. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I can be...”

The pair made their way out to the car.

Claire and Toby were already waiting by the car to accompany Jim. They were his anchor, his reassurance that he’d get through the day… and, they were all wearing matching suits.

Barbara was getting into the driver’s seat, her and Strickler there for similar reasons, as well as for security. She wore a long-sleeved pencil dress, teal in colour. Strickler got into the passenger seat beside Barbara as the children all scooted into the back, Jim in the middle.

“You look lovely.” Strickler said, kissing Barbara’s hand before she started driving.

“Thank you, Walt. So do you.” She smiled at him. Looking back at the kids, she added, “And so do you three! Very dapper.”

“Thanks, Dr. L.!” Toby chirped in response. “Gotta give ‘em the ol’ razzle dazzle.”

Jim stayed quiet, hands fiddling nervously in his lap. Barbara caught that small gesture, frowning slightly, but didn’t draw attention to it and began to drive.

“... You’re going to do fine, Jim.” Claire said quietly after some time, as if reading Barbara’s mind.

“Heck yeah, Jimbo!” Toby exclaimed in agreement, doing his best to keep spirits high. “You got this in the bag, I’m sure of it!”

“Uh-huh.” Jim responded quietly.

With another worried look at Jim through the rearview mirror, Barbara softly mentioned, “Remember your box breathing if you start getting stressed, honey.”

Box breathing was basically just taking deep breaths to calm the body, something Jim had definitely been neglecting to do lately.

Claire took his hand, resting her head on Jim’s shoulder, and Toby linked his arm in Jim’s, holding his other hand too to offer as much comfort as possible.

The group mostly engaged in casual small talk from that point until they reached city hall.

Almost as soon as they exited the car, one of the staff members had ushered them into one of the back rooms, where Blinky and Aaarrrgghh were already waiting. Both trolls’ eyes lit up upon seeing the children enter the room.

“Ahh, there you all are! What a sight for sore eyes!” Blinky greeted them with open arms. “How is everyone feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna puke, but otherwise fine.” Jim half-joked. With a worried frown, he asked, “Did you guys get here okay? Nobody gave you any problems?”

Aaarrrgghh and Blinky exchanged a look, but Aaarrrgghh shook his head and said, “Scared of Aaarrrgghh. Wouldn’t come close.”

From that, the trio could conclude that they must’ve gotten some nasty looks or comments, but, well… if Aaarrrgghh’s size was good for anything, it was definitely intimidation factor.

“Jim Lake?”

They didn’t get long to talk before being interrupted, a heavyset white-haired man peeking into the room from offstage to get the boy’s attention. “You’re up in ten minutes.”

That got his anxiety pumping all over again, nervousness forming a heavy rock in his stomach. He tried again to take some deep breaths, and forced a small laugh. “Welp, here’s to hoping I don’t completely bomb all human-troll relations…”

“Master Jim…” Blinky stepped towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Whatever happens out there, we will all endure. We’ve gotten this far already. This is just one more step of many to go.”

He stepped back again, letting Jim go, and Aaarrrgghh gave him a light head pat before he started heading to the stage.

“Go get ‘em, tiger! You got this!” Toby cheered him on.

“We’ll be right here for you!” Claire added for extra reassurance.

As he left the room, Strickler approached the employee that had led them inside. “We’re to be seated where he can see us, yes?”

Jim followed the white-haired man backstage, where he could already start to hear the audience’s murmuring.

That same man was the first to approach the podium, greeting the people of the media that were in attendance, then outlining the main reason for this gathering.

That Draal incident.

Nobody had been killed, thankfully. But the fact of the matter is, someone was attacked and badly injured by a troll, and that couldn’t go ignored by the Trollhunters and co.

Jim was presented to the stand.

Normally, press conferences were in part planned by the speaker. But for this, Jim had little to no choice in the matter of how things went.

The public was angry, and wanted answers, all for good reason. But this was a poorly structured event, and it showed all too soon in how little control their reporter audience had, already trying to speak over each other to get the first question in.

“Um…” Unsure of what to do, Jim stood helplessly in place and looked to the other event organizer for some kind of direction.

The man came back forward, taking the stand one more time. “We don’t have all the time in the world, folks.” He boomed sternly into the mic, as if scolding disobedient children. “Settle down, now. Mr. Lake needs to be able to hear your questions.”

It took a moment, but the group eventually got the message. One man cleared his throat with the intention to speak the first question.

“Hello, Mr. Lake. Brett Winston with CDF News here…�� How at risk would you say the public is to these troll attacks in the future?”

Jim took a long pause at that, fretting over saying the wrong thing... It was so strange. Jim has stood up to the entirety of Trollmarket before in the face of conflict, so why was this causing him so much more stress?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friends and family taking their seats next to the wall, separated from the crowd and easy to distinguish. Every one of them gave him an encouraging wave, and Toby and Claire both shot double thumbs-up, too.

He took a deep breath, and replied to the man.

“I… I don’t think the risk is very high at all, to be honest.” Jim said. That response got a mixed bag of negative looks from the mass of faces staring up at him, and so he cleared his throat, and tried to explain himself better. “Don’t- Don’t get me wrong, what happened was awful , and we won’t rest until we track down who did this. But I assure you, violence against humans is extremely frowned upon within troll communities. Like, part of their whole thing was staying away from us to keep the peace, after all…”

Then came the note-taking. Jim knew he was being recorded already, but knowing just how intently these people were taking his words was just as nerve-wracking.

“You’ve had much experience with troll society, yes?” Another voice spoke up. “What was their reaction to you when you showed up to them?”

“Uh, well, not… not great , but that’s only because they were startled… ” Jim answered. He definitely didn’t want to get into the constant threats that were hurled his way the first week on the job, that’s for sure. “They’re good trolls at heart.”

“How many times have these supposedly ‘good’ trolls tried to kill you? ” Another woman asked.

The directness of that question caught Jim completely off guard. Why she sounded so certain that they had tried to kill him at any time, he had no idea. It seemed like quite a leap to make, given everything he’d just said, but...

“Umm… Not a lot? ” Jim quickly realized that wasn’t a very reassuring answer, judging from the contorted looks on his audience’s faces, and stumbled to elaborate, “I-I mean, like, it was always Gumm-Gumms that were the biggest threat to me--”

“But the other trolls were also a threat?”

“No! I mean, not-- It was, like, a cultural thing--?”

That was an even worse thing to say, as that got disapproving gasps and murmurs among the crowd, more people speaking over each other trying to get another question in. Jim’s mind went blank, unable to think of what else to say, as the mediator tried desperately to get some control back in the crowd.

He caught his mother trying to catch his attention out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to look at her. She raised her hands up along her torso where the lungs would be, then reversed the motion as she silently blew air out, a reminder for him to take a breath.

Jim took a moment to collect himself, following his mother’s lead in taking longer, calming breaths. He waited for the audience to quiet down before giving any more to them.

“... Look. Their culture is different. Their species is different . But that doesn’t make them bad . Especially not when they’ve spent all these centuries purposefully letting us humans have the surface world. If it wasn’t for the Eternal Night, they never would’ve had to resurface, and none of you would’ve even known they existed .” Jim sternly pointed out. “Life would’ve continued as normal in ignorance of them, and they were letting it stay that way. And now , when so many of them are trying again to leave you all in peace like things once were, you keep trying to drag all of them into the spotlight?”

There was some murmuring amongst the crowd, and another voice spoke up. “Are you saying we should ignore this world-changing revelation?” One man asked in disbelief. “And what about that rogue blue troll that did hurt somebody?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and--” Jim winced at the mention of Draal. Took another deep breath. “... Like I said… we’re still working on tracking that one down.” was all Jim said. He was hesitant on elaborating about things such as the Glamour Mask, because who knows what sort of chaos that might bring in light?

Whether or not staying quiet on that was a decision he’d come to regret, he’d take his chances.

“But I stand by the fact that the vast majority of trolls will not hurt humans . Peace between our races is too important to them. They’ve maintained it for this long...” Jim continued. He pulled his amulet out of his pocket, the Daylight armour donning his suited form in mere seconds. “If it wasn’t for this amulet choosing me as its Trollhunter, our cultures never would’ve collided.” With a grimace, he added, “Not until Gunmar’s inevitable attack.”

“About that amulet...” Another woman spoke up, “Why did it fall into a human boy’s hands if trolls were trying so hard to keep our worlds separate?”

“This amulet was made to protect them, it wasn’t made by them. They don’t control it, and they don’t get to decide who it chooses.” He took another deep breath, trying to keep his tone as level as possible as he went on. “To have it fall into human hands wasn’t their choice. They were shocked, confused, scared, angry, just like any of you when trolls first came into the light. We’ve all had to make adjustments through this mess, and if you just gave these guys a chance, you’d understand each other--”

Jim got cut off by another overload of questions being called in, and the boy grimaced. The man that had helped him before stepped onto the stage once more, yet again scolding the members of media for their impatience.

Well… Jim was going to have to take a lot of box breaths today.

.

Dictatious, Angor Rot, NotEnrique, and Nancy were all watching the fiasco live from the Domzalski living room.

Angor had no previous knowledge in how ‘press conferences’ were supposed to go, but the rest of his company seemed just as unimpressed and upset as he was about how things were being handled.

“Whoever was in charge o’ organizin’ this crap ought to get canned.” NotEnrique growled. He made an annoyed gesture to the TV and ranted on, “It’s like they think the kid can answer five questions at once! Jeez, shut up an’ give him a chance to reply, wouldn’tcha!”

“Honestly .” Dictatious agreed, one rare time he found himself siding with a Changeling. “This is almost painful to listen to…”

Nancy had stayed mostly quiet during their viewing, but her usual carefree demeanour looked touched with something akin to indignation. As for Angor, he watched the screen with a low growl half the time.

It was safe to say that they were all in agreement about the sooner this being over, the better.

.

~

.

NotEnrique had gone to the garage to record a… what did he call it? Reaction? Commentary? Some sort of response to the event they just watched.

Dictatious stayed in the living room, having put on some other show, and Nancy had taken to baking some cookies in the kitchen for when the children returned.

Angor Rot whittled at a totem carving, as he often did, waiting by one of the windows to keep an eye out for their car. Soon enough, he did recognize it as it pulled into the Domzalski driveway.

“We’re baaack! ” Toby’s voice rang through the house as he basically kicked the door open. He walked inside with Claire close behind.

“Trollhunters.” Angor greeted them with a nod. He watched the door for a moment longer, only two of them having entered the house, then frowned slightly. “... Jim isn’t with you?”

“He, um… He went home with Strickler and Barbara.” Claire explained, glancing out the window at Jim’s house. “Needed some space right now.”

“Whew, who can blame the guy.” Toby said flatly. That enthusiasm he’d kept up all day was beginning to dwindle. “Can never catch a break.”

“Hmm…”

“Toby-pie! I made cookies!” Nancy called from the kitchen.

“Oh heck yes! ” That was quick to restore some energy in him. He and Claire made their way over, grateful to have fresh treats after that whole ordeal.

“Remember to set some aside for Jim!” Claire said.

“Way ahead of you.” Toby responded, already grabbing a tupperware container out of the cabinet.

They filled up a plate to share, got some milk, and made their way over to the table to wind down and enjoy.

“I suppose Blinky and Aaarrrgghh had to walk back?” Angor Rot asked out of mild curiosity.

“Yep. Poor Aaarrrgghh was just not made for little cars.” Toby said between bites. “We need to get a truck one of these days!”

“Well, they’re probably going to be a while, anyways.” Claire pointed out. “Blinky had to call up on New Trollmarket to check on them.”

At that, Angor’s brows furrowed. “Humans have been causing them problems?” He asked.

“Yeah, New Trollmarket’s been having some major issues… New Jersey certainly wasn’t as quick to accept the whole ‘troll’ thing in the first place, and now everything’s just. Worse .” Claire sighed, drowning her worries in her glass of milk.

“Has anyone been harmed?”

“Pretty close, from what we’ve heard of Blinky’s calls, but they’re laying as low as possible right now. Lucky for everybody, it’s not like humans can get into any Troll locations without a Horngazel.” Toby replied.

“Oh, and speaking of that…”

Angor Rot raised an eyebrow, watching quietly as Claire rummaged through her purse. Then, she walked over to him, and presented a Horngazel of their own.

“Here, we all figured you should hold on to one of these. With how messy everything’s been lately, it’s probably better if you guys hang out in Trollmarket instead of in town.” Claire handed him the item, then added, “Just don’t lose it! Don’t want the wrong people getting their hands on it and all.”

The irony of her handing him off a Horngazel with those kind of words was something that Angor would always find mildly amusing. Nice that he didn’t have to steal one from her purse this time around…

“Thank you.” Angor said as he pocketed the Horngazel. “I’ll be sure not to lose it.”

They stewed in silence for a bit, Claire hesitant in leaving as if she had something else on her mind. Truth be told, it had been on her mind for some time now, but she had troubles spotting fitting times to bring it up.

“... How’ve you been, by the way?” She asked. “Not with this , but... you know, with, like… Morgana and stuff…?”

That name still caused his face to contort with anger upon hearing it. He closed his eyes, and shrugged the question off. “No worse than any of you.”

Worry very clearly entered Claire’s expression, and Toby looked his way with a frown, too. “... Some of us have been doing pretty bad, so that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“I am managing.” He assured them. “You don’t have to keep worrying about me like this.”

“Well, that’s just what friends do.” She reminded him intently. “Remember to let us know if you ever need to talk or anything. Seriously.”

“I know. If I need to, I will.” Angor said, with more reassurance than his last reply. With one raised brow, he added, “Remember that same offer goes for you, child.”

Claire’s skeptical gaze stayed on him for a few more seconds, but she eventually nodded at that, letting the topic lie, and went back to join Toby at the table. Angor Rot went back to his carving, casting occasional glances at the house across the street.

.

Jim hadn’t said a word on the car ride back home. He didn’t even verbalize a goodbye in response to Toby and Claire, something Barbara was sure they had noticed. By the time they’d gotten to their own house, Jim was the first out of the car, speedwalking his way inside. Barbara and Strickler exchanged worried looks.

As they quickly followed behind, Barbara contemplated what she should try to say to him very carefully… but almost as soon as they stepped inside, they could hear him already sobbing.

He’d only gotten up half the stairs when Barbara called for him to stop. And, surprisingly, he did. But, he wouldn’t turn to look at them, and it sounded like he tried to shut himself up as best he could, just standing and shaking in place.

Barbara walked up the stairs, meeting him at the halfway point, and just silently hugged him. That got him to break all over again.

Jim wrapped his arms around her and just cried .

His mother held him close, guiding him downstairs and to the couch, sitting him down next to her. No words spoken as her son sobbed uncontrollably in her arms, completely broken from stress.

Strickler wasn’t as quick to get close, though he did wince at the sight of the boy in so much pain. He took a few steps towards them, part of him trying to look for words of reassurance, but he ended up reasoning that wouldn’t be what helped Jim this moment in time.

“I’ll… I’ll put on some tea.” He quietly offered instead.

.

~

.

“Check.”

Strickler drew his hand away from the board after placing his knight, Jim’s king forced into a corner. But it wasn’t a check mate , so Jim knew he must have an out somewhere. He held his hand on his chin in thought, scanning the board carefully.

Eventually, he spotted the solution, and took Strickler’s knight.

Barbara, unfortunately, couldn’t stay long. She tried to, assuring Jim that she’d call in sick to work to stay with him, but once he was well enough to use his voice, he’d insisted that she not jeopardize her work over this in any way. Calling off a shift that short notice would just make him feel worse for his stupid breakdown.

Strickler, however, could stay. Javier was quite willing to keep looking after the babies, so Strickler stayed downstairs to keep Jim company.

Jim had been quiet during their whole chess game. Strickler couldn’t be sure just how much this was helping him calm down from his earlier ordeal, but he could at least tell that the brunt of the boy’s focus had shifted to the chess board. Despite this, there was no doubt some anxieties still bothering him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Strickler finally asked as he moved another chess piece.

Jim didn’t respond. His eyes stayed glued to the chess board.

“... It’s perfectly reasonable for you to be upset--”

“ Is it?” Jim asked. Whether or not that was Strickler’s intention, that tiny amount of prompting from him triggered a small rant from Jim that he’d seemed to be holding back. “At this point I feel like I’m not even justified in being so mad at everybody, because they don’t know any better . They don’t know trolls! And then this shit with that Draal thing happens, and of course they’d be more scared -- I just--” Jim growled under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “... God. I should be used to everything always going to shit, but--”

“No, Jim. Nobody should have to be used to that, least of all you .” Strickler countered with absolute certainty.

Sighing irately, Jim just shook his head, and took his turn. “Check.”

“... We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them. That’s just first nature for any living creature.” Strickler said as he moved his king out of check. His slitted pupils flicked back to Jim. “More and more people are coming to trolls’ support every day that they continue to learn. It may not feel like it now, especially with this... masked menace disrupting progress... but you are making a change.”

Jim sighed, staring at the pieces on the board. After some time of contemplation, he slid his bishop across the squares, but not far enough to check his opponent’s king. “Maybe... But sure as hell not fast enough…”

With a click of the tongue, Strickler sighed too. Jim always did have that habit of putting too much pressure on himself. “Nobody gets to control the speed of such things, young Atlas.” He said, making his move.

“... I know…” He conceded. “You’re right.”

The two went quiet as Jim yet again examined the board carefully. After much contemplation, he cornered Strickler’s king with his queen. “Check.”

When Strickler leaned forward to take his next turn, he blinked a few times, looked back at Jim and said. “I do believe that’s check mate .”

“... Wait, seriously? ” Jim looked over the board again, not fully realizing that Strickler had no more moves he could make. “... Huh. I guess it is.” He raised an eyebrow at Strickler, the ghost of a smile touching his face for the first time since they’d started. “You were going easy on me, weren’t you?”

Strickler scoffed in exaggerated false offense at that accusation. “Why, I did no such thing!”

Jim snickered quietly, then looked away. “... Well, I’d… I’d better go see Claire and Tobes. Don’t want them to worry too much…”

“Of course.” Strickler said, standing from his seat. “Don’t let me keep you.”

He walked Jim to the door, and the boy took another pause before leaving.

“... Thanks for being here for me.” Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Jim added, “Sorry I’ve been such a disaster lately, heh…”

“You don't need to apologize for things so out of your control.” Strickler contradicted him. While physical reassurances weren’t his strength, he gave Jim a light pat on the shoulder, albeit a little awkward as well. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Jim tried to put on a smile, though it came off semi-forced this time. “I’ll do my best...”

.

~

.

Days passed.

Humans continued to be a nuisance.

Reporters and cameramen had made it a habit to lurk around the Lake household, and sometimes Toby's as well if they thought there was a chance of ambushing any of them.

The windows that were usually kept open to welcome the sunlight were now covered with blinds and curtains all day and all night if they wanted any privacy in their own home.

From the tree where he sat in the Domzalski's front yard, Angor Rot watched. He watched how Strickler used his wings to shield the children from cameras being shoved in their face every time he escorted them out of the house. Every time he saw this harassment taking place, it made his blood boil.

But he knew it was better that he stay away. He wasn’t sure that he could keep his temper in check with how aggressively the humans were harassing his friends, and if he were to cause a scene over it, that would just make everything worse for them. As frustrating as it was to let it happen, he had to keep his distance.

“Angor?”

That voice drew him out of his stewing anger temporarily. Angor dropped down from his spot in the tree, meeting Dictatious at the door. “You are ready to go?”

Dictatious nodded, following Angor’s lead outside. The assassin offered his arm, which Dictatious put his hand on. That arrangement hadn’t been needed as much after gifting Dictatious the walking stick, but with the higher tensions around humans lately, they had fallen back into that habit for a better sense of safety.

“My apologies for making you wait.” Dictatious said. “The cat sat on Nancy’s dough and we had to make a new batch.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Angor Rot reassured him. If anything, he was relieved when Nancy added some diversity to Dictatious’s routine.

As they started heading into town, Dictatious’s ears pricked at sounds of the crowd near Jim’s house. “Sounds like they’re still going at it, hm...?”

An irritated growl from Angor Rot confirmed it. “They’re just asking for a beating at this point…”

“Ohh, don’t let them hear you say that.” Dictatious responded half-jokingly. “They’d be all too excited for such content fodder.”

“If they were smart, they’d stay away .”

“They’re more concerned about being business smart than common-sense smart.” Dictatious chuckled. “If anything, having the chance to film a troll attacking somebody matters more to them than not getting attacked by a troll in the first place. Priorities, eh?”

Angor Rot could only snort in annoyance at that, baffled at this twisted behaviour.

“... Really, though. It’s better to ignore them.” Dictatious advised, a more serious note to his voice. “They’re looking for drama, so being as boring as possible is probably the way to go. They’ll lose interest eventually.”

Again, the thought of Dictatious actively avoiding opportunities to rile up some touchy humans was a strange one. But, in this case especially, he was right. It was better to be safe than sorry, which is what Angor had been doing regardless, but the reminder was sometimes necessary...

The pair headed down to Trollmarket, taking a night to read and chat together like they’d done once before. It was something Angor had been intending to do more often anyways, but it would be a much easier task now with their own Horngazel. Plus, it was a good way to take their minds off of the mess going on in the world, even if only temporarily.

Angor had found some of the few books in here actually not written by Dictatious, these particular ones about spellcasting written by a late troll sorceress. It got them talking on the topic of magic as a whole, and the functionality behind it.

“So, when it comes to making new spells...” Dictatious wondered aloud, “... what exactly are the limitations? ”

“That depends on a lot of things.” Angor Rot replied, casually skimming a few more pages, “One must have a significant level of power and experience to be able to create brand new techniques, for one.”

“Hmm.” Watching him with great curiosity, Dictatious asked, “Have you ever created your own?”

Angor Rot gave pause before answering that one. “Hrm… Yes… Stealing Daylight was a technique I developed on my own.”

“Ahh, of course…” The Conundrum nodded slowly. “That must have taken great strength.” Angor Rot stayed quiet at that, and Dictatious gave him one more curious glance. “Have you ever considered trying to make another?”

“Not really.” Angor said with a shrug. “I had everything I needed for battle, and then some.”

“They don’t always have to be for battle though, do they?”

“Well, no, I suppose not. But that was my purpose at the time.”

“Fair enough.” Dictatious replied. He was more thinking aloud than anything, but he went on to say, “Well, the situation’s changed now, so maybe you can try something new one of these days.” Chuckling, he added, “You know, once things are a bit less hectic, perhaps.”

“... Hmm. Perhaps.”

It wasn’t something Angor had put much thought into, especially not these days, but Dictatious had a point. He was in a different situation now.  He was basically in a different world from what he was used to before joining the Trollhunters. There were many potential uses to creating new spells, not just violent ones. As much as he wanted to commit some violence against those troublesome reporters…

… Come to think of those humans, perhaps he could come up with some way to approach the issue using magic.

Just like that, an idea started to form in his head.

.

~

.

The days continued to pass, and the harassment wasn’t stopping. It was to the point where neither Jim, Toby, nor Claire even felt comfortable running the simplest of errands by themselves.

They had to go out as a unit just to get one box of kitty litter for Toby’s nan. Even just their quick stop at the pet store couldn’t go uninterrupted, as the second they stepped outside, they were spotted by pests with cameras.

“Oh, great.” Jim muttered, pulling out his amulet. “ For the glory of Merlin …”

By the time those press members reached the children, Jim had donned his full Daylight armour right up to the helmet. He, Claire, and Toby were huddling close together and shielding their faces from the cameras, Jim using his shield to cover his friends even more, all of them making it abundantly clear they did not want to be filmed. That didn’t stop their crowd, though.

“Ms. Nuñez, is it true that you were possessed? With Morgana’s attempted return, do you think you’re at risk of that happening again?”

“Mr. Domzalski, do you have any comments on the violent pasts of those you consider ‘friends’?”

“Mr. Lake! Mr. Lake! What do you have to say about--”

Jim got progressively angrier with each prying question, and had to fight with himself not to lash out. Where in the hell were they learning about all these private things, anyways?!

The three did their absolute best to ignore them, but it was too hard to get away with how persistently they were blocking their path. Jim looked around for any sort of escape route, but--

Suddenly, there was the loud honking of a car. The kids all looked towards the noise, a small black Subaru in the street trying to get their attention. When the driver rolled its window down, gesturing for them to get in, Jim’s heart sunk with disappointment.

Of course it had to be his stupid father.

Still, he didn’t have a lot of great options right now. Given how severely these journalists had been harassing him and his friends, anything felt like a better alternative. He made up his mind rather quickly, and started herding his friends to the car, despite their confusion and concern.

When all three of them managed to pile into the back, slamming the door right in some cameraman’s face, James peeled out of that street and left those people in the dust.

Everything fell silent after that. Awkwardness was just an unfortunate side effect of being anywhere near James Lake Sr..

“You kids okay?” James eventually asked.

“Yeah,” was Jim’s short response.

“Good, good…”

More silence.

Claire and Toby shared similar looks of discomfort with each other while Jim sat stone-faced in the middle seat. As in their last uncomfortable car trip together, both Claire and Toby held one of Jim��s hands each.

“I’ll drop you all off at Jim’s house.” James broke the silence again. “They’re not still bothering you there, are they?”

At that, Jim laughed a short, bitter laugh that told James all he needed to know in that regard. “They’ve got their stupid cameras pointed at our house basically all day .” He snapped, irritated. “Can’t even leave the blinds open anymore…”

A frown befell his father’s face. For another short moment, nobody spoke, but James was brainstorming hard as he drove from street to street.

“... Oh! I know!” James piped up suddenly. “You know those kinds of windows that you can see out of, but can’t see inside? Maybe that would help with the camera problem!”

“We can’t just shell out thousands of dollars for all-new windows--”

“You don’t have to, I don’t mind paying for it!”

The way James said that was as if he thought he were doing Jim some grand favour . But after his insistence about the cameras, Jim was starting to sense a pattern he very much didn’t like, and with how short his patience had already been due to everything else going on, Jim was quick to snap.

“You can’t just buy your way into my life, you know!” Jim shouted at him. “I don’t want to be stuck owing you anything, got it?!”

James stopped the car. He turned around to face his son, the usual smile that he’d been putting on having completely vanished from his face. “Jim. I’m not doing any of this to try and guilt you into liking me or something. I know that’s not going to happen.” James said, his voice unusually serious. “I’m not trying to buy you or to make you feel like you owe me something. I want to do these things for you because I’m the one who owes it to you. Okay?” He turned back around and started the car back up. “I messed up. I get that. I know I can’t make up for what I did to you. Just… please, at least let me help you in little ways when I can…?”

That caught Jim completely off guard. He was quiet for a long moment, the anger he’d just felt taking a back seat to suspicious confusion. He squinted coldly at his father. “... No strings attached?”

“No strings attached, promise.” With a short chuckle, James added, “Hell, you can record me saying it if it makes you feel better.”

If James knew this whole time that there wasn’t a chance to repair their relationship, then why did he even come back to Arcadia…? Or did this sudden realization sink in for him after they reconnected?

Either way, Jim was at least relieved to know that his sperm donor wasn’t as painfully oblivious as he first appeared.

“... Okay. Fine.” Jim eventually agreed to his help, however tentatively. “But getting all new windows is still way too much…”

“Yeah, like, aside from being stupid expensive, wouldn’t they also take a while to install...?” Toby pointed out, though very hesitant to interrupt the conversation between these two.

“Hmm, true…” James agreed, pausing a moment to think. “... Hrrm… Oh, you know, I think they make film coverings for windows that accomplish the same effect? I’ll have to look into that later…”

“Googling it now.” Claire said, using her free hand to search it up on her phone. “... Ah, yeah, here it is - ‘Privacy window film’.” She turned her phone to Jim as she scrolled through the different kinds. “Certainly looks a lot cheaper and easier than brand new window installation, that’s for sure.”

“That sounds great. You and your mother can look through those and get back to me about what kind you want me to get for you?” James offered, glancing at Jim through his rearview mirror. “Or I can just send you the money for it so you can handle all the ordering details or whatnot, if that’s easier.”

“Umm…” Tentatively glancing between Claire’s phone and his father, Jim eventually conceded to that compromise. “Fine, okay, we can--” He closed his eyes and took a breath that came out in a short sigh. “We can discuss it later…”

Again, silence fell among them, one that was left uninterrupted until they reached the Lake household. There weren’t as many press employees lurking around Jim’s house today, so hopefully they could get inside without too much issue.

“Bye, Jim.” James waved the kids off. “Stay safe out there.”

Jim gave the man a strained look, but didn’t reply. He and his friends were quick in getting to the front door, James not leaving the street until he saw them safely get inside the house. With a sigh of his own, he got out of there, too.

.

~

.

Angor Rot had been making far more totems than usual these past few days. Dictatious could easily tell.

The rate at which he did it before was already somewhat unnerving, but with the accelerated pace at which he’s been producing them now, Dictatious wondered where on earth he must be storing them all… Then again, who was he to judge this strange choice? It was technically a productive use of time...

… Still, it happened far too much to be normal, and Dictatious visibly winced when he heard Angor rip off another piece of his own stone past the sound of the TV. He glanced in Angor’s general direction with a deep frown. “Doesn’t that hurt… ?” He asked.

“Not much.” Angor Rot casually replied, chipping away at the soon-to-be totem.

Dictatious still looked bothered, to an unusually high degree for him. Angor couldn’t really imagine why. It's not like these smaller wounds wouldn't heal over in due time. The Conundrum eventually looked back to the screen again, though his ears would occasionally twitch at the soft grind of blade against stone.

“I seriously don’t understand why you need that many…” He mumbled, another disturbed glance being sent Angor’s way. “Maybe you should take a break. It can’t be good for you to be doing it that often...”

“I have been creating these for centuries. I know what my body can handle.” Angor Rot tried to reassure him, though it didn’t alleviate any of the uneasiness in Dictatious’s expression. “... Besides. I’ve been going through too many of them right now.”

At that, Dictatious’s ears perked immediately, and the look in his eyes turned to a skeptical squint. “What have you been using them for? ”

There was a small pause, but Angor eventually admitted, “I’m working on a new charm.”

“... Oh...” As curious as he was about what that might be for, Dictatious felt strangely unsettled by the fact that a conversation he instigated might be leading towards Angor picking his own limbs apart. “Erm… May I ask what it is you’re trying to accomplish?”

“With any luck, a spell that can take care of those troublesome humans harassing the Trollhunters…”

“By ‘take care of’, you don’t mean--?”

“No.” Angor was quick to shut down the suggestion of hurting them. He knew better than that. “My goal is to have it damage their recording devices, to be specific. Preferably from a distance.”

“... Huh.” Still, Dictatious’s frown deepened. “Does it have to be done with totems, though…?”

“The totems are just the easiest way to provide an anchor for the spell.” He answered. “I’m not around the children all the time, so it’s better they have something they can carry with them.”

“... I suppose…” Dictatious didn’t fully ‘get it’, as he was nowhere near as much of a magic expert as Angor, but he had to ask. “Is there no quicker way to perfect it…?”

“I don’t have the proper resources to test them more efficiently, so the testing process has been slow.”

Squinting slightly, Dictatious asked, “‘Resources’ as in... spare filming equipment to test them on, or-?”

He got a mild hum of confirmation in response.

“Hrm…” Dictatious drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch, his pupils darting side to side in thought. He very much didn’t like the thought of Angor continuing this habit so aggressively, and as such, racked his brain for some sort of solution to the issue. The children had access to many cameras, but they were using those right now to keep an eye out for shadow portals... After not long at all, a different realization struck him. “Say… didn’t that Stuart fellow mention owning an electronics store?”

.

Luckily for them, Angor Rot remembered approximately where the store was, though it did take some wandering. Not so luckily, their trip was much longer than necessary due to dodging aggressive humans or unrelenting members of the press. It didn’t help that they had to make a stop at Trollmarket first for their needed bargaining chips… but, eventually, they did manage to reach Stuart’s shop without incident.

A bell rang as they opened the door, announcing their presence to the shopkeeper right away.

“Just a second!” Stuart’s voice shouted from the back of the store.

While waiting for their new acquaintance to emerge, Angor Rot wandered the front of the store with Dictatious close by his side, the Conundrum carrying a small bag in one arm. There were many strange-looking items and computer parts, artifacts stored on the shelves in seemingly no order. The room was fairly cluttered, but not in complete disarray.

When Stuart emerged from the back room, he started off rambling some apology for the wait, but paused in his tracks when he saw who it was. “Oh, hey!” He greeted them happily. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon! How can I help you fellas?”

“I’m working on developing some spells, but I need human equipment to work with. Most importantly those, erm…” Angor Rot paused, glancing to the side in thought. “Those recording devices that those people have been using, the…”

“Camcorders?” Dictatious clarified.

“Yes, those.”

“Ohh… umm…” Stuart started fiddling about the store, looking around. “Ehhh… I’m sure I have something around here that I could spare…”

Sensing the hesitance in his voice, Dictatious dumped the contents of his bag out onto the counter, the clattering of gems getting Stuart’s attention. “We’ll be paying you, by the way.”

“ Ohthankgoodness .”

As much as Stuart wanted to be as friendly to them as possible, considering how harshly everyone else is being to trolls right now, he did appreciate knowing he’d be reimbursed. Intentionally damaging equipment is a little more expensive than buying them groceries… but, from the look of all the gems Dictatious had presented him with, that will comfortably cover the cost of anything they might break. “In that case…”

It didn’t take Stuart long to present them with several pieces of equipment similar to what the press uses. “These cams are pretty old, but they oughta be good for what you’re looking for.” He said. “Some of them fancy ones the media use can be over $8,000… but you don’t need the exact same models as ‘em, do you?”

“Hopefully not.” Angor Rot replied, picking up a few of the camcorders and examining them. “If the basic functions are similar, these should be good enough to test on.”

“Awright, you’re the magic expert...” Stuart trailed off, drumming his fingertips against each other. “... Say… would you mind if I stuck around and watched for a bit?” He asked, genuinely curious about seeing the magical arts in action. “Never seen troll magic up close, heh heh…”

“... I suppose not…” Angor Rot said, tilting his head in slight confusion.  It sounded like he was implying they could stay here to do it, although... “But aren’t you working right now?”

Stuart laughed that off, walked over to his door and flipped the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’, then said, “Best part of being your own boss, you can make your own schedule!”

.

And so, the next many hours were spent magic-tinkering. Angor Rot had many totems to spare, so there wasn’t a worry of running out of resources for testing charms and spells. It was a long process, what with adjusting already-existing magicks and applying it to such new technology, so there was much trial and error involved. (And a surprising amount of spontaneous combustion; Stuart made sure to keep the fire extinguisher nearby after the first two or three times.)

Dictatious and Stuart were both very curious beings, each asking the occasional question during the process, but definitely not to the point of being annoying. Dictatious’s presence and questions were already something Angor was well used to, and Stuart was basically just a jollier extension of that. As one who tended to get overwhelmed or quickly tired of more company than usual, even he found himself slightly surprised that he was lasting so long around this talkative near-stranger without issue.

Maybe that was due to being used to Dictatious, or maybe it was due to his mind being too focused on the golem testing to really register his social battery draining. Plus, Stuart had been an extreme help in explaining in more detail how the devices worked. ( And providing them with a pile of random trash and metal scraps for the totems to be tested in golem form.) He opened up one of the cameras, making a display of the wiring and how all the different parts connected. He elaborated on some common dangers to cameras, like overheating damaging the wires, and some lesser common dangers, like how certain signal jammers can disrupt the functions of wireless ones... All of this was useful for Angor Rot to know at this stage.

After many failed attempts, Angor finally got a golem that both didn’t make any aggressive movements, and could fry these camcorders from a distant range (without making them straight-up explode, either). Satisfied with the results, they packed it up there for the day.

“Thanks for letting me stick around! Very interesting stuff here.” Stuart grinned. With an awkward laugh, he said, “I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother!”

“You weren’t a bother.” Angor replied, relieving some of Stuart’s worries. “You’re one of the few tolerable humans around here.”

At that, Stuart laughed just a little too long to feel natural. Then immediately changed the subject with a clap of the hands. “ Welp! It’s probably about time I close up shop anyways!” He looked at the clock as he spoke, then gasped upon realizing how much time had passed. “Gee whiz, you’ve been here over six hours now! I better let you fellas go while there’s still some daylight left!!”

“... Daylight is useless to us.” Dictatious bluntly reminded him.

“Oh. Right. Ahaha…”

Shrugging, Angor Rot gathered up his totems and said, “Regardless, we should be going. I want to get these to use .”

They said their short goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Angor dropped Dictatious off at Nancy’s, then headed across the street.

Now that he had a charm that functioned how they needed it to, Angor Rot could move on to the second part of his plan.

But first, he had to run the idea by the head of the household.

.

Barbara listened intently as Angor Rot explained his idea to her. He presented her with the totems that had been prepared, even demonstrated its effects in golem form with one of the spare cameras Stuart had given them.

“Hmm…” She put a hand on her chin, thinking about it carefully. “... And they won’t hurt anybody?”

“They won’t hurt anybody.” Angor assured her. “Of that, I’ve made certain.”

“Well, then… I’m not really seeing a down side.” She circled the golem again, giving it a once-over look. It was big, sturdy, and likely wouldn’t be disruptive to the household since they were going to be kept outside. “Might as well give it a try?”

Given permission, Angor Rot gave a small nod before deactivating the golem, picking up the tiny totem that fell with it to the floor. After they both put the pile of sheets they’d used to make the test golem back where they belong, Angor headed for the door to start setting up those totems.

“Hey, you said you bury those things, right?” Barbara asked, pausing Angor in his tracks. “Let me get you a trowel.”

.

Well… The gardening tool did make his job a little bit easier, even if it wasn’t really necessary.

Angor Rot had gone about rounding the house, burying totem after totem a few feet apart, forming a circle around the property. Many of the humans had tried approaching him with their subtly-goading line of questioning, but Angor had done a good job of ignoring them. Bold as they were, they were at least intimidated enough by him as to not get too close, especially when not knowing what he was even doing.

He was about halfway through when he noticed Strickler landing nearby, just getting home from wherever he had been. Work or something, Angor assumed.

The first thing out of the Changeling’s mouth was, “Is everything alright?”

Confused, Angor gave him a look. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Err…” Subtly gesturing to the crowd, Strickler asked, “Do you need any help with… you know. That? ”

Angor Rot gave them an uninterested glance, shrugged, and went back to his work. “No need. Their brainless babbling has been easy enough to tune out.”

“... Hmm. If you’re sure.” His head tilting to the side to get a better look at the totems Angor was burying, Strickler inquired curiously, “May I ask what it is that you’re doing? ”

Angor Rot once again glanced back at the flock of media vultures nearby, clicked his tongue, and simply replied, “Hopefully, something that will help.” Casting Strickler a side glance, he added, “Barbara can elaborate. I’ve run it by her already.”

Mildly confused, but still able to catch the hint that he didn’t want those people overhearing, Strickler simply shrugged and walked inside, leaving Angor to his own devices.

In due time, Angor Rot had totems buried all around the house in a circle. For some reason, those persistent humans had still been sticking around. Angor couldn’t imagine how interesting an hour’s worth footage of a troll digging holes would be, but to each their own.

He took a few steps back, looking over his handiwork, and even after all this time, the humans were still throwing pointless questions at him in hopes of any scrap being returned. How persistent were these people?

Completely ignoring the line of questioning they were hoping for responses to, Angor spoke over them with a complete change of topic. “If you value your filming equipment, you should leave right now.”

The fact that he spoke to them at all was enough to spark some excitement in the group. Angor Rot was reminded of needy seagulls fighting over garbage scraps with how they all squabbled to get a word in. “Was that a threat? ” One of them barked over the others, an amusing mixture of worry and offense in their voice.

“No. I’m just giving you a fair warning.” He replied calmly. “Nothing here will hurt you, but your cameras might get damaged--”

“We have a right to be here, you know!”

Angor was no expert on human laws, but he felt certain an argument could be made against that… Either way, they would be too stubborn to listen to him regardless. He closed his eyes, shrugged, and merely said, “Well, I tried to warn you…” It would ultimately be their loss, so who was he to care? “If you insist on staying, then at least stand back.”

Before anybody even had the chance to ask why, the ground beneath them rumbled. From beneath the earth, muddy golems clawed their way to the surface, horrified gasps and shouting coming from the humans as they rose to their full height.

“What are those?! ”

“Oh my god, it’s making monsters --”

“Would you stop being so dramatic?” Angor spoke over them, giving a most disapproving glare. “If they frighten you so much, then you’re free to leave.”

Angor and multiple of the humans were distracted by the sounds of abnormally loud whirring and clicking noises coming from their cameras. Some of the larger ones were even producing small sparks.

“What the hell…?!” One of the cameramen exclaimed, almost dropping the device as it started smoking in his hands. The display screen completely blacked out in the middle of recording, the camera clearly suffering from some kind of internal damage. One immediately after another, every camcorder had broken down with no clear reason.

When Angor Rot started snickering under his breath at the small wave of discord he’d caused among them, it wasn’t difficult for the humans to conclude that he was the cause of this.

“You stupid fucking troll!” One of them shouted, immediately losing all professionalism to curse him out as he tried pointlessly to get his camera working again. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?!”

“Yes, actually.” Thanks to Stuart, that is. Raising an eyebrow, Angor added, “And how am I the stupid one here when I warned you this would happen?”

That point didn’t seem to matter to them, as he and a few others continued berating him to no avail.

“Who do you think’s gonna pay for these, huh?!”

“Hmm. Not my problem.” Angor Rot shrugged them off yet again, and walked inside the Lake house for the time being. One particularly brave woman tried to follow to the door, presumably to start pounding on it, but one of those intimidatingly massive golems moved in front of it, completely blocking the door off and dripping mud dangerously close to her already-damaged equipment.

It didn’t take long for the group to give up at that point. There was literally nothing more to stay for, unless they wanted to stare at near-immobile golem guards all day. But what would be the point with nothing to film them with?

Once the coast was clear, Angor proceeded to safeguard Toby’s house next, and then went to search for the children themselves.

.

They weren’t too difficult to track down, what with the crowd of grown adults always lurking nearby to ambush them.

They’d been on their way to Mary’s house, the girl having offered them a day at her place while her parents were away, in hopes to give them some relief from the constant media attention. Toby had just been commenting how ironic it was that their most social-media-famous friend was the one about to stow them away when they got blindsided.

It was the same old song and dance, trying to hide their faces and keep walking as the press asked intrusive question after intrusive question…

But, almost as soon as they had started, their harassers suddenly walked away with no explanation, for they saw the troll approaching that Jim, Toby, and Claire hadn’t noticed yet.

Perhaps they’d been warned already about Angor’s new camera-breaking golems. Perhaps these humans were ones less willing to mess with a troll in general . Either way, they were immediately out of the picture.

“... Huh. That was weird.” Claire commented, confused but relieved at their sudden departure.

“Hey, let’s not complain about it!” Jim responded. “Let’s pick up the pace before they come ba--”

“Trollhunters.”

The trio turned around at the sound of that voice.

“Oh, hey Angor!” Toby happily greeted him back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“Things are going well.” Angor replied. “I have something for you three.”

Curious, the children watched on as Angor Rot pulled something out of one of his many pockets. When he extended his hand, they saw three familiar shapes of carved stone.

Blinking a few times, Jim looked from the offering in his hand to Angor’s face. “... Totems… ?” He said hesitantly. “Angor, we can’t use these, we don’t want to hurt anybod--”

“These will not bring harm to anyone. I’ve tested them thoroughly.” Angor Rot was quick to assure him. “They are for protection, yes, but of a nonviolent sort.”

Toby was the first one to pick one up, wondering how these were any different from Angor’s other golem monster things. “Well, if they’re nonviolent, then how would they protect us, anyway?”

“Their appearance alone seems to be enough to discourage those humans from getting too close… but these totems have been charmed.” The assassin explained. “So far this spell is still experimental, but any humans that bring filming equipment close to you will have that equipment fried.”

“Oh! So it’s like, the golems themselves don’t even have to touch anything? It’ll just break their stuff by being near them?” Claire asked, making sure she got that right.

When that got a confirming nod from Angor, Toby raised an eyebrow. “... This won’t mess up our phones, will it?”

“I don’t think so... The golems have been able to target specific devices while I was testing them. But you should probably turn them off before activating your totems, just to be safe.” Angor advised them. “I’ve set some up around your houses already, and it seems to be working at keeping people away.”

“Oh my god, that’s so neat.” Toby said, grinning.

Jim had a look of hope and relief on his face, too. “Maybe they’ll finally back off if it costs them all their equipment by just being near us!” He exclaimed in excitement, him and Claire accepting their totems as well. “Thank you, Angor, this is great!”

“Group hug! ”

“Wh-? Oomph .”

Before he could even ask what Toby meant, all three children had basically tackled him with hugs. Angor hadn’t the slightest idea how to react, so he just stayed stiffly in place, greatly befuddled by this tactic. He very awkwardly cleared his throat, muttering, “Well, don’t thank me yet, we still don’t know how well they’ll work…”

Sensing Angor’s hesitance at the physical contact, the trio let him go pretty quickly.

“Still though, the fact that you even did this is just… Seriously, thank you!” Claire chirped happily. “Knowing your magic, I’m sure they’ll do the trick!”

The three of them pocketed the totems, all smiles at the possibility of having some peace again.

“Listen, we’ve got to get going-- Mary’s expecting us-- but seriously, thank you again!” Jim grinned at him, the other two voicing similar sentiments.

He let them go on their way, still feeling a little strange about the whole ‘hugging’ thing, but… weirdly enough, while it was a foreign overload of contact, it wasn’t as unpleasant as Angor thought it’d be. Besides, it was nice to see them happy.

With all that said and done with, Angor Rot had only one thing left on his to-do list.

.

It’s been some time since Dictatious had the house to himself. Nancy was out shopping, the kids were off in town somewhere, and Dictatious never really knew or cared what NotEnrique got up to. Probably off making videos somewhere.

He wandered the kitchen, carefully navigating his way around putting on a kettle of tea. Nancy got one of those electric ones so that he wouldn’t have to fiddle with the stove or anything like that. He stepped away for a moment while waiting for the kettle to boil, wandering into the living room, and--

WHAM!

Within seconds, Dictatious had been tackled to the floor, a situation all too familiar. At first, his mind raced with confusion, wondering if he’d done something wrong, or Gods forbid he’d been right about Angor lulling him into a false sense of security from the start , or--

“You’ve gotten rusty.”

“... W-What?”

Angor Rot let him go almost immediately, not giving the Conundrum a chance to truly start panicking. He helped him back up to his feet, even. “You should have been able to notice me coming. I wasn’t being particularly quiet.” He said. Turning away, he said one last thing before walking off that made Dictatious breathe a sigh of relief. “We’ll brush up on paying better attention to your surroundings tomorrow. Then we’ll continue with combat and magic.”

Still a little shaken, all Dictatious managed to squeak in response was a small “Okay” as Angor Rot left the room.

His anxiety was quick to melt away and be replaced with relief and, if he were being honest with himself, a hint of genuine excitement. After all these days stuck in the same setting, with Angor as basically his only momentary relief, Dictatious finally had something consistent to look forward to again.

[gold-kobold]

How To Fight A Shadow

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16: Baggage | 17

Angor Rot deals with more angsty children drama. Things between Dictatious and Angor Rot are still weird, but they’re working on it. Race relations between humans and trolls grow higher in tension when anti-troll protestors start getting louder, and Strickler and Angor Rot have a conversation that (miraculously) doesn’t end in bloodshed.

.

thank you to y'all for all your support and encouragement!!! i'm super lucky to have such nice followers wsdhaswdfgdsdhf

I'M GOING TO BED LMAO

.

.

If pre-rain had a smell, it would be musty.

The scent hung onto the night’s breath as it blew past Jim’s nose. He drank it all in with one deep breath of his own. Though the rain wasn’t something he normally wanted to be caught in, tonight he found the light drizzle that started to fall somewhat soothing. Heavy clouds had concealed any trace of moonlight, so Jim had been sitting on his front steps for use of the porch light. He’d made himself a hot chocolate, complete with long-expired milk and a dose of pickle juice. Sure, he could switch to his human form and enjoy a normal cup of cocoa, but he just didn’t feel like it tonight. He stared into the empty street, watching nothing in particular, and just kept slowly drinking his beverage.

“Hunter?”

Jim jumped even though he recognized the voice as Angor’s. When the initial surprise wore off, he looked to the side where the voice came from, giving the troll a friendly wave. “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there.”

Even with his glowing eye, Angor Rot had a tendency to blend well into the darkness. He approached Jim at a slow pace, now illuminated by the porch light. “You’re up late.”

“Same to you.” Jim chuckled, taking a drink from his mug. “You know you don’t have to do the whole ‘mysterious patrolling’ thing every night, right?”

Angor Rot only hummed in response. Sure, he didn’t have to do it, but it was something that put his mind at ease. He leaned his back against the side of the house next to Jim.

“You’re having trouble sleeping again?”

“Yeah, guess so.” Jim paused, continuing to stare out into the empty street, then added, “My dad texted me earlier.”

At that, Angor’s interest was piqued. “What for?”

Jim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before answering. “... Just checking in, I guess.”

How much he believed that intention, Angor Rot wasn’t sure. Thinking back on James skulking around the Lake property without permission was still something that rubbed Angor the wrong way… “Is that okay with you? Him… ‘checking in’?”

A heavy sigh came from Jim, one born from internal conflict. “I don’t really know, man… I guess so?”

The inquisitive stare he was getting from Angor was a look that seemed to encourage him to go on. Like a switch had been turned, Jim went into full-on rambling mode.

“It’s just weird, like… I want some kind of relationship with him -- Like, not a close one, obviously -- but at the same time, I just get so mad when he’s around, even still… I know he came back, and that should probably count for something, but it’s just so hard to look past what he did, y’know?” He made a vague gesture with one hand. “Like, what’s even the endgame here? If I’m never going to fully respect him, then why should I even care so much about how I approach things right now? Heck, I’ve had this conversation with myself, even with mom and Strickler, so many times already and it’s still messing with my head!” Jim started to realize himself getting carried away, and rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. “Man, I keep ending up using you as a dumpster for my emotional baggage, huh? I’m so sorry, dude.”

“It hasn’t bothered me.” Angor Rot assured him. “Though I can’t offer much in the way of advice…”

“Oh, that’s totally okay. Even just listening has been really nice of you, so thanks for that!”

Angor Rot nodded slowly, mulling over Jim’s words for a few moments, then spoke. “I’m sure you know this already, but what you’re feeling is completely reasonable.” Locking his eye onto Jim, he said, “In the end, you don’t owe him anything after what he did.”

“Yeah… It’s weird, ‘cause like… I do know that, but at the same time, my dumb brain still refuses to let it go.” Chuckling under his breath, Jim shrugged. “Ah, well. Guess that’s just typical brain bullshit for ya.”

Angor Rot nodded again in agreement, turning his gaze to the empty street as well. Neither of them spoke more, just sitting with each other’s company and watching the rain fall.

But their peaceful silence was soon broken by a bloodcurdling scream.

Jim’s eyes shot wide open as his head whipped in the direction of the sound, right across the street. “Tobes--!”

Both trolls immediately jumped into action. Angor Rot was at Toby’s house in basically two seconds. Rather than enter through the front door and take the stairs like a normal person, he got into Toby’s room by basically leaping through the (luckily open) window. His knife had been drawn in one hand, a flare of purple magic enveloping the other, as he scanned the room for whatever threat may be there.

No such physical threats were present. There was only a shaking Toby, curled into an almost-fetal position on the floor, with his hands clutching his head.

Angor Rot discarded his weapon, taking a knee next to the boy. “Trollhunter?” He said, worry in his voice.

Toby didn’t reply to him, just feebly shook his head. It wasn’t long before Jim had gotten to the room too, having taken the stairs.

“Tobes!” He joined Angor at Toby’s side, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Toby, are you okay?! What happened?”

With a small whimper, Toby couldn’t bring himself to even look at Jim or Angor. “I’m sorry…” He feebly muttered. “It was just a stupid dream…”

At that, at least Angor and Jim could relax a little bit knowing that he wasn’t physically hurt.

“Do you wanna talk about it…?” Jim asked, helping him to sit up properly.

“There’s not much to talk about.” Toby replied, rubbing his eyes. “Just Morgana shit again…”

A deep frown overtook Angor’s face. The boy looked really awful, as if he hasn’t gotten a proper night’s rest in weeks… That, compounded with his paranoia about the Pale Lady, has been taking too much of a toll on his mental state.

Angor Rot looked to the computers on his desk, all with the footage open from those cameras, quickly putting two and two together. Annoyance began to bite at him, but he tried not to let it into his tone with what he next said. “This needs to stop, Trollhunter. You never sleep anymore.” He said. “What good are you when you’re like this?”

“I’m fine, I just need to keep--”

“No. Enough of this, whelp.” Angor Rot said, his voice quickly becoming a snarl. “Nothing is being gained from you destroying yourself over this. You need to stop.”

“But--!”

“ENOUGH, Trollhunter!”

The anger peaking in Angor Rot’s voice was enough to put a stop to Toby’s protesting. The boy grit his teeth in frustration, hands balling into fists, which were uncurled just as quickly. Unable to hold eye contact with Angor’s disapproving glare, he looked away.

Then, he again felt Jim’s hand take a gentle grip of his shoulder. “He’s… He’s got a point, Tobes…” Jim hesitantly agreed, though the shouting during an already-stressful situation wasn’t appreciated, “Look, maybe we should just try and sleep on this for a bit, okay…? How about we go downstairs for some chamomile?”

“... Yeah.. Okay.” Toby agreed, still not looking at Angor.

The two of them disappeared down the stairs, and Angor Rot was left in the empty, disheveled room, the security tapes on Toby’s laptop being the only source of fuzzy noise. He narrowed his eye at the computer’s screen, then scanned the entire surrounding area with one look.

“If you can hear us, witch…” Angor growled through bared fangs, “... then know that I will make you suffer for all of this.”

.

The following morning was a sunny one. Light streamed through the windows in little beams, illuminating the sprinkles of dust in the air.

Jim was the first to wake, with a stretch and a yawn. He and Toby had fallen asleep on the mattress set up in the living room, after having watched some Gun Robot to de-stress while drinking their tea. The half-troll got up slowly and quietly, as to not disturb his still-snoring friend, and walked over to the kitchen. He picked up his phone, texting Claire a “Good morning <3” text. When he saw new messages from his father, however, he cringed, putting the phone down. Sighing under his breath, he turned to the fridge in search of something to eat.

Spotting multiple cartons of eggs, his mind defaulted to omelettes. Sure, it was a food he defaulted to a lot, but everybody liked them. Plus, it was one of the few human foods that some of the trolls could enjoy, too. (Especially if he mixed in lots of raw meat in with their portions.) So, he had at it.

By the time the meals were almost ready, Toby had woken up, meandering over to the kitchen for some water.

“Morning, Tobes!” Jim greeted him. “Feeling any better?”

Toby took a long swig from a waterbottle in the fridge, sighed, and replied, “Yeah, a bit.” With a slight cringe, he looked around, not seeing Angor Rot. “... Is Angor still mad…?”

Giving him a sympathetic look, Jim assured him, “I think he was more worried than angry, Tobes…”

“I’m not angry with you.”

“Oh good lord--!!”

Both boys had basically jumped out of their skin, not realizing Angor was there yet again. The troll was beginning to wonder if it was really just him being elusive, or if everybody’s eyesight needed checking.

He had been sitting on the stairs, partially out of the general view of the kitchen, to be fair.

Jim dampened a washcloth to wipe up some of the egg he just spilled, then got a proper look at Angor. He was carving some small piece of wood, had likely been keeping watch over the house all night, knowing him. “Uhh, morning to you, too…” Jim said with a hesitant smile. “Did you get any sleep?”

“I got enough.” He answered, with a short glance thrown Toby’s way. The whelp had avoided looking at him, awkwardly sipping at his waterbottle. Angor sighed under his breath, returning focus to his carving. “... I am sorry if I frightened you last night.”

He didn’t get a verbal response right away, nor did he fully expect one. Jim glanced between the two with a look of concern, but didn’t butt in.

“... Sorry for freaking you out.” Toby muttered back after some time.

Angor didn’t look up from his carving at first. “You can apologize by getting more rest.” Eventually, he did glance Toby’s way again, voice quieter when he added, “Don’t let Her keep doing this to you.”

Toby didn’t return the glance, just gave a small nod in response to Angor.

The troll frowned slightly, but let the topic rest for now. Hopefully, Toby’s gotten the message by now…

At this point, other members of the group started to trickle into the house, so on the bright side, at least a more positive energy had followed them inside.

.

When all was said and done with breakfast and the dishes, the children had gone off to spend time together to relax, as they desperately needed it. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh had gone back to Trollmarket, and Dictatious had taken a spot in the living room to watch TV after having made himself some tea. Nancy wasn’t there again today, so it was just him and Angor in the house.

Angor had been leaning against a wall near the edge of the living room, still whittling, but now with Dictatious trying to relax in the same room, he thought it better to double-check that things were still okay.

“You don’t mind my staying, do you?”

“Oh, no, no.” Dictatious replied, waving off the question as casually as he could. “You’re fine.”

One of Angor’s eyebrows quirked upwards just slightly, but he didn’t question it further. With the TV as background noise, he went back to carving, glancing up every now and again when something interesting would happen.

The smallest twinge of guilt had been gnawing at Dictatious for some time now regarding Angor. The other troll had been making such an extra effort to be considerate of Dictatious’s comfort, and on top of that, had been keeping him company again at many opportunities, even though he didn’t have to. All of this, and Dictatious had been convinced Angor wanted to kill him not that long ago. The more time spent with the assassin recently, the more ridiculous and unnecessary that whole fiasco had seemed.

Yet again, he did all he could to shove that guilt into the back of his mind.

On the television, some sort of heated confrontation was taking place. There was yelling, punching, and eventually one of the humans pulled a strange, black stick-looking thing out of his coat.

There was a loud bang. A few seconds of silence as blood started to pool in the shirt of the other human. Then, he collapsed. Angor Rot frowned, wondering if he had missed something. He glanced at Dictatious. “I don’t understand. How did he die?”

Dictatious took a sip of his tea, then replied, “Sounded like a gun to me. Did it show the other human holding anything?”

“That little thing in his hand is a gun...?” From how dangerous Dictatious had made them seem in the past, it had an underwhelming physical appearance. Dictatious, on the other hand, was surprised this is the first gun scene that Angor’s looked at, what with how often he’d been observing these shows.

His confusion not alleviated, Angor Rot looked at the screen again, his head tilting slightly to the side as he focused on the strange item. “But how did it kill him? It didn’t even touch him...” And, as far as he knew, average humans couldn’t perform magic, so that couldn’t be the answer…

“It’s not the gun itself that does the damage. You see, a gun is filled with smaller metal pieces -- bullets, ammunition…” Dictatious explained, adding a few elaborative gestures with one hand as he explained, “... and when the trigger of the gun is pulled, it shoots the bullet at its target. So, in this instance, killing the human.” He shrugged slightly. “Bullets move extremely fast, so you probably can’t see the moment it makes contact. Very dangerous things.”

“Hrm…” Frowning slightly, Angor Rot was quiet for a moment before asking another question. “... You said they’ve used these on Changelings before, right?”

“Right.” Dictatious confirmed with a nod. “Takes a few more shots sometimes, since troll bodies are tougher than human ones of course, but still, very deadly.”

Angor Rot hummed in thought, careful to take a mental note of this. Such information would be good to keep in mind, he was sure...

Whenever the commercials would play, Angor caught Dictatious making occasional glances out the window, his ears pricking slightly at sounds from outside.

Come to think of it, Angor wasn’t actually sure when he was last out of the house.

“I was thinking of taking a walk.” Angor Rot said to him out of the blue (from Dictatious’s point of view, anyway). He stood up, a curious look aimed Dictatious’s way. “Would you care to join me?”

Again, that feeling of guilt came back, along with a twinge of embarrassment. Dictatious’s ears flattened back, his body shrinking down into his chair just the tiniest bit. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” He muttered, trying hard to hide the insecurity in his voice.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Angor would’ve thought Dictatious should know that by now… but, at the same time, he could understand the other troll’s uncertainty, in a way.

After a semi-long moment of not getting a more confirmative response, Angor walked to the chair’s side, picking up the Conundrum’s walking stick and lightly tapping one of his arms with it. Dictatious still looked hesitant, but he accepted the offer regardless, slowly standing up and accepting the stick.

As the pair made their way outside, Angor could tell something was still bothering the smaller troll. Yet, he did seem to want an outing, so that probably wasn’t the problem…

“Is something the matter?” Angor asked.

Dictatious cringed slightly, turning his head away. “... If you’re doing this to try and make something up to me, you really don’t have to.” He said quietly. “I know my presence is bothersome--”

“It’s not bothersome.” Angor Rot glanced down at Dictatious, one eyebrow slightly raised. “I do like spending time with you, you know.”

Dictatious’s ears twitched back, surprised to hear that, and not entirely sure if he believed it.. “... Oh,” was all he managed to say in response, caught off-guard by Angor’s statement.

Part of Angor wondered if being so direct felt too much like overcompensating for lost time. But, again, given Dictatious’s behaviour not too many days ago, Angor Rot figured it was better to be transparent.

It wasn’t long after they had gotten out of the house when they ran into Merlin. Or rather, Merlin had been seeking out Angor Rot intentionally. Dictatious’s ear twitched, noticing Angor sigh under his breath at the sight of him.

“Angor Rot.” Merlin greeted him, though definitely not in a friendly manner. “Did you forget about our meeting toda--”

“Later, wizard.” Angor Rot cut him off, not bothering to stop.

The histrionic sigh that came from Merlin in response was one that Angor had long since learned to ignore. And, luckily for him, Merlin knew better at this point than to try and push Angor around. “Very well.” He reluctantly complied. “You know where to find me.”

After that, Dictatious couldn’t tell for sure, but Angor Rot seemed just the tiniest bit more tense. A frown pulled at the corner of Dictatious’s mouth as he considered asking a possibly intrusive question… He didn’t want to push his luck, especially after Angor just admitted to enjoying spending time with him (for some reason), but...

“May I… ask you something? About you and Merlin…?” Dictatious inquired, testing the waters rather than asking his question outright, as to not irritate the larger troll.

There was a small pause on Angor’s part, but he ended up allowing it. “You may.”

Merlin’s history of manipulation combined with Angor Rot’s self-sacrificial tendencies was not a safe combination. “... He’s not, erm… coercing you into doing anything, is he...?”

That choice of words got a very short, quiet laugh out of Angor. “Absolutely not.”

It wasn’t a detailed answer by any means, but the fact that Angor Rot found that question laughable was probably a good sign, at least… Either way, Dictatious wouldn’t push his luck on the topic any further. He nodded slowly. “... Good.”

They wandered the streets in relative silence for the most part, no destination in mind as they wandered the town.

Angor kept watch of Dictatious out of the corner of his eye, the Conundrum seeming unfamiliarized with the path they used to walk so much. His ears perked more often at every sound, and he had to use his walking stick more often than last time to navigate for curbs.

“When was the last time you’ve been out?” Angor Rot asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He replied. “Whenever I was last out with you.”

That issue of the others completely ignoring this need of Dictatious’s was one Angor had put on the backburner of his brain until now. He still found it so strange, that not even Blinky would do this for him. And the children too weren’t entirely guilt-free, especially after they’d been so attentive to Angor’s needs this whole time…

“Do the others have some sort of problem with escorting you, or…?”

Dictatious chuckled. “I don’t think the others have the same level of patience with me as you do.”

“... Not even Blinky?”

At that, Dictatious outright laughed. “By Gorgus, especially not Blinky!”

While Dictatious may have found that humourous, Angor Rot frowned, confused. “I thought you two had been getting along these days.”

“Oh, we are. He’s my brother, we’re bound to get on each other’s nerves sometimes.” Dictatious shrugged. “In any case, it’s not like I see him enough for it to really matter either way.”

That comment only got Angor to frown more. He was under the impression that they had mended at least part of their relationship from their heart-to-heart talk months back. That being said, Dictatious sounded just now as though they were more like strangers than siblings.

It dawned on Angor that, while their time together back then may have been productive, it was far more Jim’s idea to make them talk than it ever was Blinky’s. If anything, the norm is that Blinky ignores Dictatious almost as much as everybody else on a regular day. It was something that Angor was sure he’d noticed before, but only now was it really starting to sink in.

“... Are you ever bothered by that?”

Confused, Dictatious glanced over to him. “By what?”

“By… hrm…” Angor hesitated, searching for a way to word this that didn’t sound like a jab at Dictatious himself. The Conundrum only looked more confused the longer Angor stalled (and by his hesitation in general. It wasn’t a normal look on Angor.). “By being… left on your own so often?”

Dictatious paused, taking a moment to process that question and really mull it over. “Ah…” Looking away, he gave a slight shrug. “I mean, not really… I’m not particularly close with the humans, and my brother still has many… issues with me, all things considered.” He chuckled quietly, though to Angor, it sounded slightly forced this time. “I’ve caused him -- well, all of them -- enough trouble as is, so it’s for the better, I’m sure.”

I’ve caused them enough trouble as is. That was an interesting choice of words, coming from him… It’s not like he was wrong, but it was strange to hear him so openly admit to his own flaw. And, though Angor Rot could never fully understand why, it was really starting to bother him that nobody (except sometimes Nancy) would ever acknowledge the Conundrum. Dictatious obviously craved interaction and different environments every once in a while rather than being stuck in that house all day, and they know he can’t do that on his own…

Angor Rot took a mental note to get him outside more often.

They were quiet for some time after that, just walking with no particular goal set in mind, taking in the sounds of the town.

Dictatious’s ears perked when he heard some commotion across and down the street from them. It sounded like faint chanting, slowly drawing nearer. A group of people, he’d wager…

Angor Rot slowed their pace, also confused. “What are they doing…?” He wondered aloud, moreso to himself than Dictatious.

It was a small group of humans, probably no more than ten, and most of them were carrying signs of some sort. Not that Angor could read them, but…

The group was getting dirty looks from surrounding Arcadian citizens, which further confused Angor, but things became clear to both him and Dictatious once the organized group came within earshot of them.

“Put all trolls in six-foot holes! Put all trolls in six-foot holes!”

“Oh, dear.” Dictatious’s ears pressed back out of alarm, and he immediately pointed his vague stare away from the group. “Avoid eye contact. We should try to pass them quickly...” He advised Angor immediately, tugging on his arm just a little bit as an indication to walk faster.

The fact that even Dictatious wanted nothing to do with them, despite having egged on multiple troll-hating humans in the past, was enough of a sign to do exactly as he says.

There was the option of turning around and going back the way they came, but that would mean they’d be walking in the same direction as the protestors, thus elongating the time they spent in their line of sight. They’d be rid of each other’s presence faster if they just kept going and passed each other. Hopefully.

Angor turned his head back towards the direction of their own path, but opted to keep watch of the nearby humans out of the corner of his eye, for caution’s sake.

Two girls - friends of Claire’s, if Angor was remembering their appearances correctly - had started confronting the group, going off about “Nobody wanting their hate speech around here”, to which one of the protestors quickly shot back that “hate speech only applies to real people”, something or other...

While most of the humans had preoccupied themselves with the argument started by those two girls, three of the group had broken off from the rest, muttering among themselves, glancing and pointing at Angor and Dictatious.

Then, they started to cross the street.

Angor’s guard was up high, especially after what he’d just learned about guns… He mentally prepared for an altercation, and out of instinct reached for one of his sheathed knives with his free hand.

Before the humans even made it to the middle of the street, an unusual car horn sounded off behind them, and a large, colourful van sped into their path, screeching almost to a stop once it got between the two trolls and the group of approaching humans.

The driver rolled down his windows, first shouting to the three humans in the street that he would’ve hit had they gotten much closer. “‘Ey! Jaywalking’s illegal, you know!”

“Mind your own business, dude.” One young woman jeered at him.

The group started to go around the van, but its driver immediately punched it in reverse to block their path yet again, all the while still keeping Angor and Dictatious out of their view. “I mean it, buckos.” He snapped at them, a much darker note in his voice now. “Back off.”

They must have finally taken into account the disadvantage they were at, what with the driver seeming far too comfortable using his vehicle against them, as the three humans did end up going back the way they came. Not before cursing at the driver and flipping him off, of course.

The driver watched them like a hawk, making sure they trickled back into their group, then turned his attention to the trolls, talking at them through the rolled-down passenger window.

“Y’ello again, fellas!” He greeted them, all hostility in his voice before to be replaced with a warm, open friendliness. “We really oughta stop meeting under these circumstances!”

“Oh, it’s you…” Angor Rot paused, taking a moment to recall his name -- he hasn’t acquaintanced himself with many humans yet, so there wasn’t a long list to try to extract from. “... Stuart?”

“You remembered my name! I’m touched!” Stuart chirped happily, placing a hand over his heart. He checked over his shoulder, eyeing the group of protestors for a quick moment, then returned his attention to the two trolls. “Where are you guys headed? I can give you a ride!”

Angor gave his taco truck a once-over glance, then answered, “Nowhere in particular. We’re just walking.”

As kind as Stuart has been to them, Angor still didn’t fancy the idea of being put in an enclosed space with someone he barely knows.

Stuart nodded, seeming to catch on to their wariness, and offered instead, “Well, let me make sure you get to the next corner safe, at least.”

He looked behind him to make sure no cars were behind him that he’d be blocking, then started slowly driving forward, matching the trolls’ walking pace.

“Isn’t this the second time now that you’ve done something like this for us?” Dictatious queried. “Your timing is impressive.”

Chuckling, Stuart explained, “Wasn’t so much about luck this time… Me an’ some of the Arcadians like to keep an eye out when those sorts of people are around… Don’t want anything to get ugly around here, you know?”

Frowning slightly, Dictatious cast a foggy glance at the van. “More of those people have been active in Arcadia lately?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Stuart sighed. “Some of ‘em have been travelling down here specifically just to preach anti-troll crud. Guess that’s what we get for havin’ the most troll-friendly reputation, eh?”

They had always had problems with some troll-haters in Arcadia, sure, but the uptick in its presence lately was enough to cause concern. Most other places had this mindset to a much higher degree, so the thought of letting even Arcadia get to that point of animosity was not a welcome one to the native citizens.

Stuart kept pace with the trolls as he drove down the street alongside them, often checking his rearview mirrors to make sure those protestors weren’t changing direction to follow them. Once he made sure they got to the next turn unbothered, he waved them off. “Be safe out there, fellas! That lot seems to be heading north, so you should turn here to avoid ‘em.” He said, pointing down the street to their left. “And hey, feel free to drop by my store anytime!” He then gestured across the street to a building. “It’s that one there, see? Perfect for all electronic needs!”

“We don’t really use electronics, but… good to know?” Dictatious commented.

“Eh, well, all the same, even if you just wanna say hi, you know where to find me!”

He gave the trolls one last wave, then drove off down the other street.

“I didn’t realize that anti-troll protests had even started coming up around here…” Dictatious muttered, frowning. “We’ll have to be more cautious.”

“That sort of thing happens often?” Angor frowned too. “What’s the point?”

“Hrrm… well, I suppose it depends…” Dictatious mused, rubbing his chin. “Humans use protesting as a way of expressing all sorts of concerns… Sometimes they do it peacefully, but others…” Shaking his head, he shrugged. “Well, it depends on what’s going on in the world and who’s doing the protesting, really… but yes, anti-troll ones have been going on for a while now, from what I’ve seen in the news, just… not usually in Arcadia. Sometimes they get, ehm... violent...”

Angor Rot hummed quietly in thought. Though it was rather unfortunate, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. As Stuart pointed out, it makes some sense that people with such hatred towards their species might target a town where they’re most accepted.

For the rest of their walk, they decided to focus whatever other conversations they may have on less concerning topics.

.

~

.

As much as he didn’t fully want to, Jim felt he had to cut the hangout with his friends short. He was trying to be as emotionally present as possible, especially after what just happened with Toby, but stress about his father had been gnawing away at him all day, and it drained his energy faster than usual. When he arrived back at Toby’s house, it looked like he had the place to himself for now, as everyone else was gone. Part of him considered going to his own house to see Strickler and his mom, but they’d catch on that something was off with him, and Jim didn’t want to put them through his whole dad-baggage wringer again. And with this headache that’s been eating at him, he wasn’t sure how willing he was to be around people much longer.

He’d been checking his phone every other minute, reading and re-reading the texts from his father, only getting himself more agitated.

To distract himself, he went to check Twitter and see what was new.

That turned out to be a big mistake.

His page immediately opened to a picture of Draal -- fake Draal, he reminded himself -- going absolutely viral. It was a blurry photo, taken no more than an hour ago, yet already with thousands of retweets. What’s more concerning, it looked like there was blood on him. It was too blurry to tell how much, or what was going on at all, really.

His heart rate shot through the roof upon seeing it, anxiety ripping into him like a set of vicious claws. All too suddenly, he realized that it wasn't just anxiety, but his body rebelling against him yet again.

He tried to get to the couch before the worst of it hit him, but it all happened too fast. A burst of light overtook him as his body tried to forcibly switch forms, and Jim shouted out in pain, falling to the ground. He started yelling curses as the searing sensation had him thrashing helplessly on the ground.

“Trollhunter?”

Jim could just barely make out Angor Rot’s voice approaching past the unrelenting ringing sound in his ears. He tried to pick himself back up, but a surge of lightning-like magic struck him back down with a vengeance. He snarled in pain, his efforts to stop writhing falling empty. He could feel Angor Rot pick him up off the floor, carry him over to the couch, and put him back down, staying close.

“I can get Strick--”

“I’m fine, I’m fine--” Jim winced, biting back another snarl, but he could feel the pain slowly start to fade. “J-Just give me a minute…”

Disconcerting as it may have been, Angor Rot let Jim fight this out. It probably felt like it took longer than it actually did, but eventually, finally, the waves of pain striking Jim’s body had faded away altogether.

Taking a deep breath, Jim sat himself up properly with a shaky sigh. “That… never seems to get any easier…” He mumbled, annoyed.

Angor Rot’s brows furrowed, then he eyed the phone Jim had been so tightly gripping in his hand.

“... Is it your father again?” He asked.

“Um… no… Well, a little bit, but not just…” Jim took another deep breath, trying to keep his cool as he looked at the picture on his phone once again with a deep frown. “I… I gotta go look into something.” He said, standing up.

“Right now?” Angor asked, uncertain of that decision. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“I’m okay, really.” Jim assured him. “It was just a little hiccup, nothing too outta the ordinary…”

“And if this were to happen while in the sunlight?”

There was an underlying note of concern to Angor’s voice, rhetorical as the question may have been. He himself had hardly just gotten back from his walk with Dictatious when he heard Jim’s outcry, what’s to say that anybody will even be around to help the next time it happens?

Well, the sunlight thing did happen once already, but Jim opted not to mention that part.

“I’m being careful, honest.” Jim assured him, pulling his amulet out of his pocket to display. “This has still got that sunlight immunity gem in it, and I’m keeping it on me at all times. You don’t have to worry.”

Angor Rot still looked unsure. Despite that, he still gave Jim a slow nod. “Tread carefully, Trollhunter…”

“I will. Promise.”

Watching him go, a slight frown pulled at Angor’s mouth. The way things kept gradually compiling against the Trollhunters was reason for concern on its own, but Jim’s insistence of being cautious wasn’t reassuring. They almost always say that, and yet they always end up in danger anyways.

Regardless, he didn’t have much choice but to take the Trollhunter at his word.

.

~

.

That night held the promise of another rainfall. Clouds tugged at the sky, moving through the wind like waves. What was no doubt going to be a very wet night started with a light, gentle drizzle.

Despite the weather, Strickler stayed outside, lurking on the rooftop of an all-hours gas station. He blended into the darkness well, the harsh glow of white LEDs not reaching him from this angle.

He had his eye locked on James Lake Sr., who had stopped to refill his tank.

Was it wrong to be stalking the movements of his partner’s ex? Probably a little bit. But, he’s done much worse things, and in his own mind, this was an excusable offense. The fleshbag was so… average. He behaved like any normal human would, and yet, suspicion still ate at Strickler just as strongly as the first day James had shown up. Whether or not he was making it up in his brain out of sheer hatred for the man, something just felt off about James.

And yet, none of the behaviours he displayed could be considered abnormal. He was so very, averagely human.

“Strickler.”

At that voice, the Changeling jumped so hard that he nearly fell off the roof altogether. He took a quick moment to rebalance himself, wings flapping back into place as they recovered from the near fall he just took, and he looked to his side to see Angor Rot sitting quite casually nearby on the very same roof. At this point, he was giving Strickler a very unimpressed stare in response to the Changeling’s overreaction.

“Ah… Angor… Hello.” Strickler managed to sputter out, internally wondering just how long Angor had been sitting there.

Angor Rot snorted, his judgmental gaze moving down to James instead. “Seems we had the same idea.”

Strickler cleared his throat of the awkwardness he suddenly felt, then followed Angor’s gaze back to James. “So it would seem…”

James had been taking his time in pumping gas, pausing several times to chat with the customer on the other side of his machine. Random small talk, nothing particularly telling about him.

“How long have you been observing him?” Angor questioned.

Laughing slightly under his breath, Strickler asked back, “Do you mean just tonight, or in general?”

Angor Rot gave him a silent look. The Changeling cleared his throat nervously.

“Ah, well… I’ve been keeping an eye on him for a few weeks now, admittedly…” Strickler said. His brows furrowed as he frowned down at the man. “Yet, nothing significant to note has come up.”

Angor Rot hummed quietly in response, picking away at his wooden carving. “Odd.”

Strickler nodded in agreement, at least a little relieved that he wasn’t the only one to think so. “The whole reason he’s here seems to be Jim and Barbara, and yet…” Narrowing his eyes slightly, Strickler sighed. “... I suppose he hasn’t done anything overly strange so far, but still…”

“He tried to see Jim again recently.”

“What?” Strickler growled at even just the thought. “Young Atlas didn’t mention--”

“I don’t think he knew.” Angor Rot finished, also narrowing his eye as they watched the man. “It didn’t seem like the fleshbag gave any prior warning, as he was supposed to…” His gaze lowered in intensity, and he snorted. “Either way, Blinky already confronted him about it.”

“Hrmm…”

It wasn’t much longer until James got in his car to drive away. Strickler had debated following him, Angor could see it when he glanced at the Changeling’s face. But they both knew he was just returning to the Inn for the night. There likely wasn’t much point in following him there, too.

With nothing more in common keeping them there, things between the pair fell into an awkward silence. Strickler’s eyes flicked to Angor Rot and away multiple times, as if he was considering saying something more, but couldn’t find the gall. The fear Strickler had for Angor was still very apparent, even though the troll hasn’t done anything violent thus far. Sighing under his breath, Angor eventually spoke.

“I know that you’ve changed, Strickler.” He said, seemingly out of nowhere. There was still a trace of resentment that still lingered in Angor’s voice, one that Strickler was surprised he hadn’t heard more of over these months. “You keep acting as though I don't....”

It was impossible to not acknowledge the change. He’s reminded of it every time he sees the Changeling helping his family, or standing up for Jim, or just… being a decent enough person in general. He was reminded of it every time he saw Barbara, every time he was reminded of the things she’d said.

He knew Strickler had changed for the better. Despite all that, Angor still felt as though he’d never be able to forgive him. Was that hypocritical at this point? Or understandable?

Strickler stared at Angor, quiet at first, as he watched the mental confliction play out in Angor’s mind. With a hesitant voice, he eventually said, “Is there anything I can do to make things easier on you...? I… I know you’d rather not have me around at all, but--”

“It’s plain to see that you care for the boy.” He went on. And his mother too, of course, but that was so obvious, it felt redundant to point it out. “I may not like you, but I know you’re…” He paused, even still struggling to acknowledge it out loud. “... a better person for it… I can respect that, at least.” Glancing away from his carving to stare at Strickler once more, he elaborated, “The few times I see you nowadays haven't bothered me as much lately. You really don’t need to keep overcompensating.”

At that, Strickler had absolutely no words. He’d never expect Angor to say such things to him...

The rain started picking up, as did the wind, catching Strickler’s attention.

“Erm… Well… I suppose we shouldn’t be staying out in this…” Strickler mused, using it as an opportunity to spare Angor his presence. He stood up, glancing at the troll. “... Let me… Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you.” Strickler said, as a sign of good will. Clearing his throat, he also added with a hint of awkwardness, “Ahem, anything that doesn’t involve fatally wounding me, that is.”

“Ahh, so non-fatal wounds are acceptable, then?”

When that familiar look of concern started to wash back over Strickler’s face, Angor Rot snorted, rolling his eye. “I didn’t mean that seriously, Changeling...”

“... Oh. Ahaha… Of course...” Strickler replied, an air of relief replacing his concern. To be fair, that kind of... ‘joking’...(?) wasn’t exactly normal coming from Angor.

Surprisingly, the Changeling still turned his back to Angor as he spread out his wings. Before taking off, Strickler cast one last glance at Angor and said, “... Thank you for looking out for Jim, by the way.”

Angor blinked a few times, but gave him a small nod in response. Strickler offered a very tentative smile before he flew off into the night sky, the rain seeming to fall heavier as he left.