#platonic strickler

[kathrahender]

I need more fics where the villains see how much heroes are suffering and they're like "I wanted to see you hurt. I wanted to defeat you. I wanted you to surrender to me- but this- this is not what I wanted. I did not want to see you shattered"

And after that they're like "Nonononono why do you do this to me? Why are you making me feel emotions? Why are you making me feel compassion for you? I'm not supposed to have mercy on you"

[agent-of-imagined-chaos]

(With purely platonic energy) dear lord, homeboy

Texts from Strickler (Part 1)

[limey-self-inserts]

Grounded

Word Count: 3k F/Os: Angor Rot (platonic) Summary: Wherein there is a small magic lesson and a crisis of conviction.

art tag crew: @bugsband @rexscanonwife @chimerakisses @faerie-circle-ships @carbo-ships

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For the bare basic living quarters I’d expected when I first made land in Arcadia, this apartment wasn’t actually too bad. It had a whole mini-kitchen that blended into the dining room aka my study space, which made it a lot harder not to deny myself things like scrambled eggs or a grilled cheese toastie when I was goddamn exhausted with trying to read through Trollish texts on some magic stones or history of the Trollhunter. Something-something knowing your enemy to best weaken them, Strickler had said. I hadn’t been paying that much attention up until he’d shoved the books into my arms.

Considering how the Janus Order had specifically told me I needed to keep an eye on Strickler, and that Strickler was consistently intent on dropping something extra on me to keep me away from whatever he was working on alongside the whole ‘kill the Trollhunter’ business, I felt like the study sessions were intentional. 

It wasn’t fun. Not in the slightest. Even when it came to finding parts of the text that tied into magic, it could become truly agonising in the process. Spending hours stuck in one room grinding through maybe two books at a time.

However Angor had come to realise that if he skipped on duties regarding directly stalking the Trollhunter to hunker down in my apartment and join me in my study sessions ‘in order to assist with the overall goal’, then it really, really pissed off Strickler.

At least it meant I wasn’t alone.

While most of Angor’s lessons required me to be outside (due to the inevitable surrounding damage and because getting thrown against a tree is miles more comfortable from being thrown against a wall), a little could still be done in the apartment. He’d had centuries to hone his magic, fine-tuning it to what he wanted - hunting, tracking, paralysis, manipulation. I was still in the process of trying to form my magic into goals, into tools. What I wanted from it hadn’t mattered until Angor had pulled me out of the dirt once too often and told me the necessity. Which then lead through to the core magic lessons.

According to the older books, wizards and witches normally used staffs or other foci to cast their spells. It was like formulating code - you decided your goal, adjusted the parameters of the world around you, and set the spell into motion. I did not have the comfort of a focus. It was a major part of why my magic could be so sporadic and volatile - curses shattered the moment my concentration wavered, if I created a weapon to fight with it could easily fall apart under too much stress. 

But I did have a teacher who didn’t need a focus himself. Angor didn’t talk about the how or why, only the what and who. What did I want. Who was I aiming at. The only ‘how’ was ‘how quickly can I get this done’. 

What did I want?

I wanted to go home.

Jerking awake abruptly, the ache of sleeping in a chair promptly hit my back muscles and legs. I blinked away the last dregs of the surprise nap, grimacing and hauling off the table to stretch myself out. Multiple pops echoed in the otherwise empty apartment. Delightful.

My most recent book lay open in front of me, partially haloed by pages of notes from this book and others, plus a bare basics Trollish translation cheat sheet. Most of the paper was now crinkled by the ghost imprint of my face. Across the rest of the table was the unwashed plate from a lunch or breakfast meal, a sad and cold half-drunk mug of tea, and an eyeball -

Oh. Bastard.

I leaned my chin on my hand, squinting at the obsidian eyeball. 

“Good morning to you too,” I grumbled. The sun outside said that it was pushing into late evening. That counted as morning from trolls, I assumed. Like vampires. But then again Angor had his own shadow umbrella so he didn’t take as much caution towards the daytime.

The eyeball rolled further across the table, hopping onto the open book. Somehow it managed to look down and then back up in disdain. It didn’t have a face, but I knew Angor far, far too well already now. This was definitely a disdainful eye roll.

“Thank you for that enthusiasm,” I replied. Getting out of my chair was much harder than it should have been, as my legs remembered about blood flow and I stumbled to hold my balance. But after a mere second of embarrassment, I started the process of flipping through the kitchen cupboards to try and figure out what I’d be putting together for dinner tonight. It turned out even if you did sleep through your entire study session you still needed to eat food afterwards.

“Lessons or work tonight?” I asked the eyeball, glancing back over my shoulder. The eyeball rolled left and then right, before spinning around in a full circle. “...Yeah, I don’t know why I asked either. One hop for yes, two hops of no?”

“No.”

I flinched hard. Mistake. Turning quick with the thoughts of ‘shield’ on my mind, the shadows buckled and broke immediately when struck by stone claws. Angor crowded me, crammed down and partially crouched from the lower ceiling, leaving me squeezed against the kitchen countertop. For a moment my half-drawn breath rolled off stone, his eye matching mine and taking up the rest of the world.

Then his claw tip pressed into my forehead.

“Faster,” he commented, taking two steps back into the apartment space. My lungs released, along with the rest of my muscles, and I just about kept myself upright by bracing on the worktop.

“Asshole.”

“You will improve, or you’ll die. And you haven’t died yet, witchling,” Angor replied. After some consideration, he dropped down into a seat on the floor, hidden from the remaining rays of the sunset but unable to hide from their amber glow reflections. His eyeball rolled back to his open palm to be slotted into its proper place.

“Yeah, the court is out on whether you’ll kill me, either by hand or by heart attack, or whether Strickler’s plan to kill me by boredom gets me first,” I grumbled back.

“I am compelled to not kill you, for the time being.”

“You sure like to test the limits on that compulsion, don’t you?” I paused in my rummaging when I didn’t hear a reply. Angor’s grin met me in the middle of the room, a mixture of amused and hungry that slowly slid into a low grating laugh.

With mutterings of how reassuring he could be bouncing around, I returned to my first task.

“Question remains though, is it a lesson night or a working night?” I asked.

“The boy grows close to discovering one of the Triumbric Stones. We will need to learn what he has gathered and where he intends to go,” Angor replied. “I doubt it will be much work, but it will be a matter of…practical teaching, if you so desire.”

Making a small noise of understanding, I made a move for the ‘fast and easy to eat’ area of the kitchen. No point dilly-dallying over omelettes and peppers if we were going to be out the window once the sun was gone. Angor’s gaze remained on me, the cold prickling sensation finding a hold in between my shoulders. 

He once described my presence as warm water. At the time I thought it was purely in the disgusting manner, but after time with him, and time reading about history, perhaps it could be better. Less revolting, with exposure. 

He certainly seemed less cold sometimes, although that was a push.

Water in the pot began to bubble at the edges, a bath to drop an egg into and wait for the minutes to tick by. As much as I didn’t shy away from the cold on my back, I did chance a couple of looks back over to Angor. His hands held the Shadowstaff loosely, the metal and stone refusing to reflect any light in the room. A focus of the Pale Lady, but Angor didn’t channel magic through it, only utilising its shadow rending to get from point A to point B. A different witch could do great or terrible things with it.

I would not.

“Have you been practising?” Angor asked, catching my gaze and holding it.

“I - yeah, a little. I just - can we go over it when I’m not trying to juggle food?”

“Any moment can be a lesson when you are practising magic. Especially…” Angor trailed off as my phone abruptly pinged with a timer, I hastily scooped the egg out the pot to plop in another bowl, and then started pouring the hot water into my dinner.

“...What?”

“What are you doing?”

“My dinner! It’s very modern, Japanese fusion cuisine, all the kids love it. Tons of flavour, with added protein to boot.”

The silence was a distinctly flat sense of disbelief.

“It’s pot noodles with an egg on top. Look, I'll let you eat the pot afterwards if you want.”

Angor’s brow wrinkled inwards in disgust as I waved the pot in his direction. Shrugging in return, I set about the quick dinner with a fork and gusto.

“Disgusting.”

“You guys eat cats! And socks! I refuse to allow eating judgement in this house,” I snarked back through a mouthful of yolk and noodle.

That earned a very sharp scoff, Angor somehow managing to look even more disgusted at such things. 

“That is simply the junk which trolls scrounge for now in your era,” he commented, his scowl sharpening his words. “In my time, we had far richer delicacies to hand than….socks. Deep cave mushrooms, rabbits, fresh veins of ore.”

“Human?” It wasn’t fair of me, and the regret raced in after the words escaped. I hunched my shoulders and prepared for the venomous or snapping response.

There was none.

Instead Angor’s face went rather empty for a moment. His gaze flickered away, falling back through memories. Slowly regret gathered in the corners of his mouth, a bitterness that pulled his grimace back into place.

“Never humans,” he replied. “Not hunting them was a kindness they never understood.”

That was more than a little unexpected. My shoulders slumped, the responses I’d prepared failing me. Quietly I scraped the cardboard insides of the pot in my hands, wracking my thoughts for something to say to break the morose weight that had settled in the room.

“It’d be fun to have rabbit some time,” I mumbled. Surprise caught Angor off-guard once again, but his composure returned much faster, a wry smirk coming free.

“Perhaps your lessons will show more promise if I teach you to hunt smaller game than trollhunters,” he chuckled. “It would be amusing watching you stumble around the woods in attempt to snare a bird or hare.” It was already a fun past-time for Angor watch Avalon struggling with the lack of light in most places. Hunting in the dark, the best time to catch prey unawares, would test them fairly. If hilariously.

“It’d beat pot noodles at least.” 

“Anyone would heartily agree to that.”

“Okay. Okay. Look, it’s empty.” I waved the noodle pot in his face, earning not even a flinch but a blank disregard. “We don’t have to talk about that anymore.”

“And you can stop dodging my earlier question.”

Fuck.

Mirth could be so easily obtained with the witchling, Angor reckoned to himself. Try as they might to hold defences up, Avalon left too many open holes to reach through and prod and tug. That human weakness had dragged them here and dropped them at Angor’s feet. If he were to teach them well, he’d keep finding every other crack and either they would need to shore themselves or else they’d break apart.

A part of him didn’t want them to shatter though. If not just to take the fun out of a long game. So he’d keep teaching despite the flaws.

My face remained wrinkled in the cloying distaste of being caught out for a few seconds more before I exhaled a slow sigh, trying to ground myself. Time was short, however long until Angor decided it was time for us to leave. I’d need to do this right.

Magic bubbled at my fingertips. Angor’s instructions sat at the back of my head. What do I want? What carried me forward? Where was my conviction?

Angor watched in silence as shadows coalesced in Avalon’s palm. At first they were shapeless, barely a trick of the fading light. They rose and fell, then began to spread, forming a skeleton of a shape. A simple and efficient knife becoming more real with the passing seconds. It was a good weapon, to be approved of. The simplicity was apt for a beginner, the blade would be useful should they come to a fight. It would save them from their reluctance to kill. Given enough time, they would change, Angor knew that well enough. So he’d teach them enough to survive, in the short weeks before he finally got rid of the Trollhunter, and that would be all.

One eye cracked open. First I saw the knife, held together by shadow and the faint gleam of green, and I had to resist the urge to grin excitedly. Breaking my focus could untether the tool completely. Then I looked to Angor.

What did I want?

The green light fractured and overtook the blade, a thin line of metal becoming thick and rough and stone. Even while still simple, there were enough details to make it identifiable. But beyond that, it was heavy. It was solid. When gravity tugged it into my grasp and I had to grab it to keep it upright it didn’t fall apart without my concentration to hold it in one.

Stoic walls cracked at the edges as Angor squinted. His hand drifted to his belt, touching the handle of his own dagger, just for a moment. Avalon had succeeded, quite succinctly too. Their practice was paying off well. And yet the manifestation seemed…unwieldy. Surprise was too clear on their face. The way the dagger had formed had been unexpected but promising. And the similarities were far too uncanny to be ignored.

Would he call them out? Would he stay quiet? 

Teeth ground together as Angor’s eyes narrowed. Despite everything, his influence was digging in faster than he’d planned. But it…wasn’t bad. A good knife would protect them better. Would dig deeper.

“A fine choice of blade,” he commented, a bare air of smugness encroaching his words despite the glower.

“I-I didn’t..” My words collapsed together, stammering over themselves. I knew the knife too well myself, I’d gotten to view it up close and personal enough times. The weight was lighter than the original, easier for my own hand. And it was still here, despite my thoughts going in every direction.

“But you have.” Angor drew himself up, not to full height but enough to be looming as he stepped closer. The Skathe-Hrün unfolded from its handle, almost my height and certainly jabbing a little close to my eyes for my own comfort. Instinctively I batted it backwards with the back of my magic knife, and even the gentle stone-on-stone tink drew toothy amusement from Angor.

It was like watching a small fox cub bat at a dead rabbit that its mother had brought to the den.

“You are becoming better at grounding yourself. It will be far more important the further you progress in learning magic,” he continued. “By far more important to keep yourself in the moment when you are in a fight.”

“For sure,” I agreed, quiet and nervous. That would have to be the main teaching point - whether the knife would stay for long enough with Angor or an actual enemy bearing down on me.

“You considered the questions I asked of you? What is it you want?” he asked.

The answer was there. I looked to the knife, then back up to Angor.

“Home,” I replied. “What do you want?”

You didn’t need a soul to experience the ache of loss. Angor’s grin faded rapidly, turning cold as the stone of his body. Even his eyes seemed to lose the golden glow. 

“Something that I lost a long time ago,” he growled back. “That means little with my experience. You are the student here, you have far more to overcome and therefore you are the one who must focus on such thoughts.” Every ‘you’ was punctuated with a tap of the Skathe-Hrün to my chest, just enough to get the point across.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” I muttered quickly.

“The knife is a small tool. I will expect you to conjure something greater and stronger the next time I have you practise this skill.” 

The conversation was done. Angor huffed out a growling breath before glancing to the windows. The sun was almost gone, the light a weak yellow streaking the ceiling of this box. By himself, he knew he would be able to travel unimpeded. With Avalon, the Shadow Realm made for a more reliable passageway. Turning to the wall instead, Angor pushed his focus into the staff, the location on the other clear in his mind.

What did he want?

Silence. He continued to stare into the wall, staff raised. I shifted my feet together, finally releasing the blade from my hand and my focus. The shadows fell apart before it could fall far from my grasp.

“Angor?” 

There was a blink, and then his eyes were back on me. Lips curled, curved fangs bared, before he gestured with the Shadowstaff again more insistently and the air collapsed in on itself. The void was numbing, both to witness and stand close by to. I took a step towards it, only to be blocked by Angor’s hand.

“Don’t let go,” he growled.

“Of course,” I replied in low deadpan. My hand gripped onto his palm as best it could, while his claws dug into the sleeve of my coat. And then the apartment was quiet and empty, a table covered in notes and a book spread open on the history of Trollkind. A trident emblem painted onto the paper.

[albentelisa]

Hi!

Moonlight, Crispy, R+J for the TOA ask game!

Favorite side character? Zoe (wish she had more screentime), Vendel (just like his grumpy grandpa vibes) and Kanjigar.

Favorite funny scene? I really cracked at the scene in Hero with a Thousand Faces when NotEnrique climbs through the window, sees multiple Jims and goes full 'fuck this shit, I'm out'. And also simultaneous 'shut up, Steve!' from Jim and Strickler.

Favorite ship (romantic, platonic, etc.)? Besides my obvious picks Jlaire and Stricklake, it's Dramura. Their exes dynamic is fun and I wish we saw more after their reconciliation.

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Hi Pinky what do you think that Strickler have the highest Romantic attraction Compare to other Changelings and trolls,

Plus if Jim or Claire were a Changelings do you think that they will have a Romantic Attraction the Same level as Strickler?

I don't think it's necessarily true to say Strickler has a higher Romantic attraction compared to other changelings and trolls... Its just he's the only one to have focus in that aspect with his relationship with Barbara, and also as a main character. We don't know any other changelings well except for Nomura, who HAD a relationship with Draal, and NotEnrique who isn't interested right now. Troll character wise, I feel there wasn't enough time to focus on that, as its pretty much Canon anyway of Blinky and Aaarrrgghh being togther. Either platonically or romantically.

Oh, I think that Claire and Jim would love each other the same no matter what the species they were. Even as changelings their love for each other would be fierce.

[makethiscanon]

Current request status: closed

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Inbox game status: open

Current game: Send a single '🌸' + any character name (+ fandom if it's not obvious), and I'll give you one headcanon for them. Limited to one headcanon per ask. The same character can be asked for more than once.

I can go in fandom-blind. Pick any character you like.

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Firstly, anyone new here please know I’m the slowest writer on this planet, with a feeble amount of motivation. When requesting, it’s better off to think of it as a suggestion, because unless I get inspired, there’s a high chance I won’t have the brain power to write your piece.

I work under a policy that every character is pansexual/panromantic, unless explicitly stated by the original creator that the character is not attracted to a specific orientation.

What I will write:

Reader-inserts only

Second-person, or third-person if requested

Headcanons, drabbles, blurbs, short stories, voice lines, match ups.

Any gender, but will default to fem! unless requested

Romance or platonic

Aro or Ace

Polyamory

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Horror/Suspense 

Minor injuries/blood

Alternate Universe (please specify)

The list isn't completely exclusive so if in doubt, hit me with what you've got.

I reserve the right to decline or ignore any requests that make me feel uncomfortable, and have no obligation to disclose reasons why.

What I won’t write:

NSFW / Taboo

Political

Hate speech

Cheating

Whump (Yandere is fine but won’t be graphic)

Real celebrities x reader

Young-coded characters romantically. E.g. Eri, Kota, Klee, Nahida, etc.

I can try writing for any character from the fandoms listed, but the characters below are the ones I’m more confident in. Those with an ‘ * ’ are the characters I’m most confident writing.

Arcane:

Jayce || Viktor*

Silco

Demon Slayer:

Akaza* || Douma || Enmu || Gyutaro*

Inosuke || Nezuko

Rengoku || Sanemi

Dr Stone

Senku || Taiju

Tsukasa || Ukyo || Yo

Chrome || Kinro

Final Fantasy

7: Reno || Vincent || Genesis || Zack

13: Hope || Snow || Caius || Noel

Genshin Impact:

Arataki Itto || Cyno || Thoma || Tighnari || Xiao || Zhongli

Childe || Scaramouche

Gotham (TV Series):

Oswald Cobblepot || Jerome Valeska || Victor Zsasz*

Kingdom Hearts:

Organization XIII members || Axel*

Sora || Riku || Hayner

The Maze Runner:

Gally* || Newt || Frypan || Minho || Alby

Vince

My Hero Academia:

Class 1-A [Any] || Bakugou Katsuki* || Ojiro Mashirao*

Amajiki Tamaki || Kaibara Sen || Monoma Neito || Shindou Yo || Shinsou Hitoshi || Togata Mirio || Yorarashi Inasa

Chisaki Kai [Overhaul] || Dabi || Spinner || Toga Himiko || Twice

Fatgum || Pro Hero: Manual

Obey Me:

Mammon || Lucifer || Beelzebub || Asmo

Simeon || Solomon || Raphael

Tales of Arcadia:

Douxie Casperan || Krel Tarron*

Nari || Skrael || Strickler || Tronos

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[WRITING MASTERLIST]

[yellowmagicalgirl]

27 with maybe Claire and idk bellroc maybe.....? (Platonic ofcourse or not you decide) you don't have to do this if you don't want to if you don't feel comfortable with this it's fine just let me know if you aren't going to write it thats fine ;)

I hc the entire Arcane Order as aroace so definitely platonic.

27. meeting at a support group au

CW: eye trauma in the first paragraph

~

It could've been worse, Claire supposed. Strickler could've killed her body to kill Morgana, instead of just carving the golden eyes out of her skull to end the possession.

But now she was blind. Her boyfriend and his best friend were off on a road trip to New Jersey, and Claire was stuck relearning how to do basic tasks instead of going with them.

Claire ran her hands along the runes of her cane. Merlin had decided to give Claire a boon, which was to say that he'd given her some spells she could cast once a day. He claimed that he would be willing to come back to teach her to cast the spells with her own magic once he was finished with finding the Heartstone and some other business he refused to elaborate upon, but Claire wasn't expecting him to finish any time soon. He was an ancient wizard and she'd probably be a grandmother by the time he was done. At least for now she could create a shield or get super hearing for ten minutes a day.

Claire wrinkled her nose as her sweat-slick hand slipped past a rune. Had the air conditioning broke?

"We have a new member joining us today," said Eunice. She was the therapist for the support group that met every Wednesday. The city council had set it up as a free form of therapy for those who had been disabled by the events of the Eternal Night, but people who had been disabled in other ways were welcome.

(If not for how Claire's mom had been actively trying to make an effort to be less of a control freak, then Claire would have felt like Eunice was trying to spy on her.)

"Do you want to introduce yourself?" Eunice asked.

"I'm Bellroc. They/them pronouns," the new member said. Their voice seemed to change in register as they spoke. Claire made a silent note to speak to them about it; it would be so useful to her for acting. "I've been blind for a long time, and I used that as an excuse to lash out at... at the two people closest to me. One of them left me a long time ago, and I was able to convince myself that I was in the right, but now that the other one left... I realized that I need to learn better coping mechanisms."

"Well, we're glad to have you, Bellroc," Eunice said.

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

[pawnshopsouls]

//I am off work and now intensely thinking about a platonic!au where Bonely is the Gobber to Gunmar’s Stoic and if it were a Strickmar setting, how he’d actually give advice and help to both Gunmar and Strickler about each other.

//… I can just see Strickler raising an eyebrow at some piece of really good advice and being like “you know, that bit of advice sounds peculiarly human. Are we sure you’re not a Changeling?”

//to which Bonely would just throw his head back and cackle. “Oh, trust me! If yeh had a word fer me, I guarantee yeh that it wouldn’t be ‘changeling’.”

[rishaelvendil]

I translated the fic so more persons can read it!!!! <3333 It's a fic centered in the relationship between Strickler and Jim (platonic father-son) and a relationship between Jim and an OC (romantic), but it's not all that it is about. It's not the usual fic of Trollhunters, so I loved you giving it a try! I don't want to make spoilers, but it's a Dimension Travel AU. If someone is interested, here's the link!!!! I hope you enjoy it! :DDDDD

¡Buenas a todos! Por fin he publicado el primer capítulo de uno de mis fics en proceso de Trollhunters. "To Fix a Broken Heart". Es un fic centrado sobre todo en la relación (platónica padre/hijo) entre Strickler y Jim y la relación entre un OC y Jim (romántica), pero no es lo único de lo que trata. No es el típico fic de Trollhunters, ¡por lo que me encantaría que le dierais alguna oportunidad! No quiero hacer spoilers de más, pero se trata de un Dimension Travel AU. Si alguien está interesado, ¡arriba tiene el link! ¡¡Espero que os guste!! <3333

[troublesometrollhunters]

Didn’t see a button so throwing this in here (sorry)!

[You're Fine! :D]

Ask: Could I ask for headcannons for being Jim’s older sister (and interactions with the trolls? I feel Jim would have liked someone in his corner who was older but still approachable to help handle stuff plus sibling code for when people messed with him like Draal in beginning). Love the blog btw! Can’t wait to see it shine!

~ You help him take care of mom by cleaning and making sure everything was good to go in the mornings and evenings while he cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner for everyone. Sometimes you'd have cook offs in the morning cooking fun but stupid delicious things with ridiculous names making your mom laugh and you'd almost miss school and your mom her shift with all your fun but Toby always saved the day warning you guys that you gotta go!

~ Technically you can drive but you like riding your bike with Tobes and Jim plus your not aloud to drive Toby since he's not immediate family so bleh. They're cool with you hanging out with them and you take care of your friends. Steve leaves Toby alone with you around and Claire takes a sudden interest in your brother with your help. You love Romeo and Juliet so you help him with his whole play thing going on.

~ When Jim discovers the amulet your a bit jealous. You had to go in early for a school project but it's so beautiful. He offers it to you but you say it's his since he found it. But you promise you'll help him find out what he's found exactly. You think you hear it whispering at one point but you shake it off. It's an inanimate object... Falling asleep you wake up to yelling and run downstairs with a broom only to see two giant things...?

~ Blinkous or Blinky introduces himself and you smile at the manorsome troll. Aarrrgh is cuddly and tries nuzzling you to calm you down. You end up liking these two trolls a lot. Jim passes out and you assure them he's fine and you'll handle it.

~ Of course you and Jim tell Toby everything. He doesn't believe you at first but it's insane how well you can convince people to listen to you.

~ When you see Trollmarket for the first time your amazed. It's so beautiful... Blinky sees you looking around and starts telling you facts smiling at your wide eyes and excited face. Aarrrgh chuckles a bit at you but thinks your childhood excitement is cute.

~ Blinky and you become very close and he teaches you about Troll history and it's language while Jim trains in the heroes forge. You have fun with Aarrrgh and Blinky and when Draal comes around you handle the situation well.

~ Draal is nicer to you since you can hold your own with words and since your not his competition he doesn't really care. You make sure he doesn't bully your brother though and wanting to be useful you start training in the hereos forge to. Draal thinks your more impressive than your brother because even without armor you run around dodging all these obstacles and you are never afraid.

~ When Draal gets banished your actually the one who suggests he come to your house to teach your brother how to wield the sword properly and so he has a place to go. It is troll custom that if you loose you become either a servant or underling but you tell him he's a friend. Draal gains more of a respect for Jim you and humans in general that day.

~ Everything's going well until you learn about Killahead bridge how Bular is trying to kill your brother and there's Changelings freaking everywhere in this town! You can't believe your friend Claire's brother is actually a changeling. You did your best to fix the house quickly but Jim got busted as you snuck out a window and ran.

~ Once Claire found out about everything it was cool you had another girl on the team and a new friend. But then she started dating your brother and things got weird...

~ When Claire and your brother start dating you get distanced. You don't want to get in the way of their relationship. Toby hangs out with Aarrrgh a lot and you don't want to third wheel. Blinky talks with you about all this and assures your a valid part of the team and that Master Jim loves you dearly. You nod but still feel forgotten in the midst of all this. What can you really do...? You don't wanna talk to Draal about it so you kind of pull back and eventually you stop coming to troll market.

~ Strickler is your favorite teacher and you confide in him a lot. As all of this is going on you are unaware he's a changeling and tell him about your insecurities of loosing Jim and your mother as you feel lost. You leave out the troll parts and magical world and all that stuff but you give him the jist of how you feel... left out and abandoned. You two are very close and he counsels you as well as he can. Your happy he looks out for Jim for you when you can't and helps take care of your mom by soothing her. He's just a great man that as long as you've known him has been there for you and cared for your interests.

~ Strickler has always called you Persephone making you feel special. You remind him of that Greek myth with you in a place split between worlds. You help your mother but also keep the peace. He's like the​ father you don't really remember and it feels good to have someone like that in your life.

~ Coming home down after a talk with Mr. Strickler feeling much better Jim and you get in a fight at home where he says he wants to protect you and you shouldn't come on missions or to the forge anymore the only things you really do anymore when you want to see your friends and you respond you don't need it! You don't need his protection! You can take care of yourself Jim! He treats you like a little kid and then acts like you can't take care of yourself. After all that's happened you just want to be alone for awhile. You just want people to stop ignoring you and thinking your weak! You're just so mad. And he kept the fact that your favorite teacher was a changeling away from you! Life is so frustrating right now!!!

~ The next day you make Strickler hold a gaggle-tack and start crying when he's revealed as a changeling. This is your father figure your friend and he lied to you. You may not have the sword Daylight like Jim but you know basic defense and how to fight from Draal's teaching and the Forges obstacles. You end up socking him and he knows why your mad and lets you beat on him for awhile since it doesn't hurt before he thinks you've let enough anger out and calms you down a bit so he can talk to you.

~ He knocks you out when you don't calm down and when you wake up your tied down and in the secret part of his office. He asks you to join the Gum gum army. To be a strategist and a warrior. When you start yelling and refusing he gets impatient. He doesn't want you or your mother to get hurt. Jim's made it clear he doesn't want his protection. But you, you could learn so much from him be so much more than Jim. You don't know what to do and your trying not to cry. You can't cry in front of Strickler anymore, he's the enemy...

~ He's in his human form and hugs you close and you just break down in his arms. You can't stop yourself. The abandonment. The fight. Lying to your mother. You can't do this anymore!!! You don't want to do it anymore. When your done he makes you an offer. Join him and learn what you really are or stay with Jim and be in the dark and be neglected. He gives you time to think about it but you don't know what to do.

[wizardouxie]

Evil!Douxie au Team Mom solidarity between Morgana and Dr. Lake

YES, but I would also like to present this: They’re neighbors.

We know Jim doesn’t tell his mother about the whole ‘trolls exist’ affair to begin with. And he tried to keep this secret away until Toby figured it out. Now do you remember that scene where Jim and Toby are testing out Daylight on different things? The episode where Draal trains him? Morgana sees them from her backyard and is startled. That’s the trollhunter amulet. The one she and Merlin made.

How... how does a human child have it?

She doesn’t tell Merlin about it. For the first two seasons of Trollhunters she doesn’t. She can do this, she has 900 years of wisdom and Merlin would only interfere and try to hold her back.

Instead she reaches out to Dr. Lake more, becoming her friend. The mother is pleasantly surprised, and she welcomes the support. On days when she’s working a busy shift, she often sends a quick text to Morgana, asking her whether Jim’s doing okay while she’s gone. Morgana in this time learns to cover for Jim, especially when he’s running out of excuses. Toby finds it to be a convenient coincidence, but Jim? He’s suspicious.

Eventually he confronts her and she admits that she’s been aware of everything that he’s just now getting exposed to. He’s a little hurt that she didn’t tell him earlier, but Morgana assures him that everything she’s done up to this point was to protect and support him.

And she’s not wrong.

Some days Jim struggles to deal with his mom because she doesn’t understand what he’s going through the way Morgana does. Morgana knows this, so when Dr. Lake complains about Jim being difficult all of a sudden, she texts the boy and works things out with him. After that Jim comes down the stairs and voices his frustrations (without giving away his other life) and Dr. Lake is relieved to see her son open up to her. Morgana receives a text two hours later.

Barbara: I know you’ve got something to do with this. I swear it’s like you’re raising this kid with me! Thank you though :)

Other times Morgana is the one patching Jim. He jokes that she’s exactly like his mom, a doctor except magical. She smiles sadly. This was the least she could do since she couldn’t heal Guinevere or Hisirdoux. She scolds him for relying too much on himself. He has allies who can help but he refuses to let them. He groans and tells her that he’s got it handled. And it’s not like she doesn’t believe him. It’s just how long can he hold on for, yknow?

For school Morgana refuses to help him with homework, only because his handwriting is terrible and she simply cannot forge it. But she can help with girls. She notices that he has an eye for Claire, and encourages him to join the Romeo and Juliet play.

“Girls would find that quite romantic in this age,” she teased, enjoying the way Jim stuttered and tripped on his words. Cute. 

Morgana also repeatedly messes around with Strickler because she knows who he really is. Neither Jim nor Strickler know about each other yet and frankly Morgana doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the history teacher turned principal was a changeling and that the student was the trollhunter. She just knew it wouldn’t be long before they would figure it out, and when they did, Strickler would try to exploit Jim’s weakness: his mother.

So she makes up excuses to stop by Barbara’s house, much earlier than Strickler can make time for. And when he does finally arrive, he’s very displeased. Not that Morgana cares.

“I’m sorry but we’re having a lady’s discussion, so if you wouldn’t mind... come back another time?”

Except there usually is no other time and honestly Barbara thinks it’s funny because she’s starting to believe that Morgana is jealous of Strickler. And then it starts to get a little overbearing. She loves her friend, but she deserves to enjoy some freedom after work.

So when Morgana is shouting at Strickler for supposedly spiking their drinks, Barbara politely tells her friend to leave. Morgana is taken aback.

“But he, I saw --”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say about my boyfriend, Morgana. I know you care but this.... this is too much. Please leave.”

And Morgana is nearly in tears as she watches her friend drink the poison through the window. How was she going to tell Jim about this?

Fast forward to Trollmarket, where Barbara and Strickler are clutching the side of their necks. Morgana is pushing her way in with Jim, demanding to see Vendel. Her heart is racing again; this would be the third person she’s lost to her own mistakes. She can’t let it happen again. She can’t.

Her faith is renewed when Claire throws the page in and wastes no time in preparations. She can save her friend.

Her heart broke upon hearing Barbara’s screams while she uttered the incantation with Vendel, but the satisfaction of Strickler experiencing more pain had somewhat mended it. He deserved every bit of hurt that he’s caused everyone.

Afterwards they head to the hospital. While Jim and his mother are alone in the room, Morgana is discussing with the nurses about the scenario she had made up on the spot. She signs the paper and places the pen on their clipboard.

By the time she enters to check on them, her friend is fast asleep. She looks at Jim expectantly.

“Did you tell her about everything?”

“I... I didn’t get the chance?”

“James Lake Junior!”

“I know I know, I made a promise to her! But please, she’s still recovering and I really don’t want to stress her out right now...”

Morgana sighed. He did have a fair point. Barbara was by nature a very expressive person and too much exertion would only worsen her health.

“You bring up a good point. Very well, but you must tell her soon,” she replied. Jim let out a sigh of relief. Morgana clasped his hands with hers, smiling.

“You’ve come so far, little champion. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure she is too.”

[pharinn]

Walter: You realize I’m going to help you save the world.

Jim: This is like something out of a movie... I still hate you though.

Walter: Understandable...

Jim: She still likes you. Not sure why.

Walter: I wish she didn’t to be honest.

[limey-self-inserts]

Roadtrip

Word Count: 5.4k F/Os: Angor Rot (platonic) Summary: Occurs after Episode 18 - Angor is stuck without his teleportation Shadowstaff far from Arcadia, and a familiar face makes an unexpected trip out to get him back. Content warnings: Misgendering, panic attack

art tag crew: @bugsband @rexscanonwife @chimerakisses @faerie-circle-ships @carbo-ships

------

There were clear and definite disadvantages to having lost the Skathe-Hrün. Injured pride still prickled sore and open under Angor’s chest. That a fleshling child had managed to wrestle the staff from him, kick him through the Shadow Realm, and escape almost unharmed.

Still, he had the Killstone. He had won that over the Trollhunter, snatched one of the Triumbric Stones out of his grasp, and beaten him and that other cumbersome troll. It had surprised him that the one called Aaaarrrgghh had somehow managed to evade his blade, but size meant little to mobility and strength when it came to trolls. Not to mention Angor had heard enough comments for a certain someone regarding his own size, stone frame, and speed. 

He could travel fast when he needed to. He was certainly covering a good enough distance in this outrageous desert. His mark acted as an internal compass, guiding Angor back towards his prey in Arcadia.

If not for the damned sun.

Without the Skathe-Hrün, there was no shadow shield. Without the shadow shield, there was no way for Angor to withstand the merciless sun in this shadeless space. The first day, he’d carved out a shelter from himself from a partial opening in a convenient rock wall before the sunrays broke the flat horizon. The second day he’d actively hunted down a suitable cave to crouch inside, scowling out at the mice and critters that skittered out into the bright heat beyond his reach.

The time was good. He was away from that coward Strickler, space for his own thoughts beyond the nagging internal tug of the Inferna Copula pulling him back towards his task. He could sit and plot and plan for his next steps to deal with the Trollhunter. And perhaps then to deal with the Impure. Or maybe both at the same time. Or maybe just Strickler.

That was the one Angor hated most at the moment. The one to compel him, the one to taunt Angor’s soul in front of him, wielding that wicked ring that the Pale One had moulded from his stone. After so many centuries under her compulsion, Angor had forgotten what it looked like. He’d almost forgotten how it had come about.

But someone had gotten into the history books and decided to go rooting around with words and now his memories simmered cold and full of holes but still furious. Much like Angor himself.

His village. How could he have forgotten his village?

If he had his soul, he could return. He could vanish into the dark like he had done once before, before Strickler and the Janus Order dragged him back into the neon lights of a new age. He could return, far far too late for any good now. He’d be alone. But he would be free at the very least.

He just needed that ring.

And to get that ring, Angor needed to survive getting back to Arcadia.

By the end of the third night, he’d managed to leave the desert behind. Prickly trees were still trees, and either side of the long flat road was framed by broken cliffs and wandering pathways. The road still proved the fastest direction to travel along for the time being, Angor easily slipping out of sight when one of those cars or vans came careening along it. Idly he wondered if Strickler had noticed Angor’s prolonged disappearance from Arcadia. Maybe he simply considered the lack of an assassin to be Angor doing his duties. On the one hand, Angor doubted the Impure to care much. On the other hand, Angor’s soul on his hand seemed to be the one thing keeping him above his peers in the Order. It was why they sent the witchling after all, and that plan had worked so well for everyone in this situation.

Hmm.

It’d been three nights without a dry comment, a poor attempt at humour, a muttered complaint, or a cautiously offered word of comfort. And it bothered Angor, now that he thought about it. The subtle discomfort that had been dragging at his stone, different from the Inferna Copula or his usual hollowness. He didn’t like it. 

The silence drowned out other thoughts. He needed to be able to think clearly, to devise a strategy to lose the leash on him, but how could he do that when he kept expecting someone to say something and then those words simply didn’t come? What had Strickler been thinking, to tie Angor down with a fleshbag that even now acted as a distraction? A wretched witchling at that. A distraction and a failure who could barely even cast a spell.

No. He didn’t mean that.

Angor’s fingers scratched at his chest, bits of stone flaking under his claws. Almost always at the brink of falling apart, it felt, even though he knew his body stood firm. He needed to stay focused and keep walking.

An engine rattled in the distance, coming up from the unknown city far ahead. As always, Angor slunk into the side of the cliff, hiding among the shadows. A van, somewhat batted and with some unpleasant oil streaks over the blank white paint, rumbled its way up the road…and then slowed. Pulled off to the side. Angor curled his lip, pressing himself further out of view while pulling his dagger from his hip. If he needed to cut the throat of an unfortunate human, so be it.

“Angor?”

His eyes widened, just a touch. That was not just any unfortunate human. Avalon’s voice echoed off the sides of the valley, as they called out to him again.

“Angor? Come out, the sun will be up in an hour.”

Silently he peeled himself from his hiding place. Their back was half-turned, eyes glancing about as they scoured the sides of the road and the heights of the cliffside. Their attention was elsewhere.

Angor squeezed the dagger’s handle. In the brief few seconds their head turned away from his direction, he was moving out from his hiding spot completely, bearing down on them in silence. At least, until the shadows moved and formed. A trident raised as their hands moved, connecting with his open wrist but not his weapon hand. Despite having responded fast enough to the faint shuffle of rock and dirt, their aim was not enough to keep the blade edge from their neck.

The stone did not connect with skin. Angor’s hand, caught by trident prongs, trembled in the last bits of momentum that tried to continue moving forward. Avalon’s eyes were wide and pale, teeth bared in instinctive rage. Not like a human. Certainly not like a troll. More like a furious feral beast, a collared dog one word away from the command to kill.

“Good work,” Angor mused. His hand dropped away, taking the knife with it. Panic still danced in Avalon’s vein as they slowly released a trapped exhale and let the trident turn to smoke in the air.

“If you’re going to compliment me for almost getting beheaded, it’s not going to bode well for my sparring lessons,” they cracked. Angor grimaced, pulling away as he stalked around them and towards the van.

“Very well. Your aim was poor and you left yourself vulnerable by defending the wrong side.”

“Mmm, that’s more what I expected,” Avalon muttered as the smidgen of pride was abruptly flattened by disappointment. Hurrying in Angor’s footsteps, they overtook when he hesitated at the van’s side, looking the big beast over. All it took was a small click and big shove, and the side door was pushed open. The windowless interior was bare, apart from an extra tyre hung on the wall and a box shoved in the corner near the seats. 

Angor had many questions. But for now he held them back, instead bending over to step into the van. The metal creaked and groaned, suddenly filled with a heavy weight of troll, and for a moment Avalon thought the suspension would give out completely. But the van held together, and Angor continued to squint around the interior as he slowly sat down on the floor. 

“Well, uh…I’d say make yourself comfortable but it looks like you already have so-” Avalon gave Angor a double thumb’s up and promptly reached for the van door, pulled it back and closing off the outside world. Not a few seconds later one of the front doors opened and they scrambled back into view, shuffling in behind the steering wheel. The engine rattled to life once more, and with a slight groan of protest the vehicle swung around on the road, heading now in the direction that Angor had been travelling. 

There was definitely more strain to the van’s motion and speed, compared to getting out this far. Avalon gritted their teeth just a little as they hopped up another gear, urging the engine to comply in gathering up momentum. Only once were they going at a reasonable speed for the highway did they let out a long sigh.

Now was the time, Angor thought.

“How did you find me?” he asked. 

“Mmm? Oh, uh…you know when I asked you about those stasis crystals and you told me to ‘go look and familiarise myself’ so I went and rooted around in your pouches?”

The memory was clear enough in Angor’s mind. But how was that connected to how they’d found him? The space between his eyes scrunched up tight in confusion, before reaching back around to the pouch in question. Stasis crystals, flare crystals - oh hello. He plucked out the charm, holding the bead of green light between thumb and forefinger, before twisting around to fix Avalon with an almost proud scowl. They spared a quick glance over their shoulder, spotting the burning gold look digging into their skin, and promptly shrank down just an inch in their seat.

“I mean…you do almost exactly the same thing.”

“You placed a tracker’s charm among my items.”

“Aaand look where it got us. Toddling along the highway, back to sunny - no, that’s bad - back to sweet ol’ Arcadia!” They finally looked properly at Angor, through the reflection in the rearview mirror, and that smile was…somewhat pained.

“Mmm. The one place where the Janus Order had specifically placed you to keep watch on their errant member,” Angor commented with a narrowing of eyes. He could see the moment where a cold realisation hit, the pained grin becoming nauseous, Avalon returning their focus to the road but the rest of their focus rapidly disintegrating into a panicked stare that Angor could see in the windshield’s reflection. He turned himself over to kneel, to face the same direction as them, regardless of how the van bounced a touch from his movements. It didn’t take much effort to steady himself against the back of the driver’s seat.

“You have risked the wrath of those who still hold you tight to their whims,” Angor continued, voice low and risking to tip over into a growl. This wasn’t teasing - he knew the weight of punishment that now threatened to rise over Avalon’s head. And they knew it too. Their eyes flickered as their focus briefly shifted to the reflection of Angor’s eyes in the windshield. Cold panic condensed into sharp motivation. Their hands squeezed on the steering wheel.

“It was a risk worth taking to get you back,” they muttered. “I wasn’t going to let you get caught out by the sun, wherever you ended up.”

“What if I had fallen further? Weeks away from Arcadia. Would you have fled from the Order’s fury to track me down still?”

“Of course.” No hesitation, not even for a second. It threw Angor more than he’d prepared himself for. Avalon pressed on regardless of his surprise, barely managing a half-smile. “Even if I’d had to chase your sorry damn ass to Alaska, I would’ve followed you. Janus Order bearing down on me or not.”

“Not even if they threatened death upon you?”

“Absolutely. Fuck them.” The van’s engine revved as Avalon pressed their foot harder on the gas pedal. It took a second of inhaling breath, their anger faltering from that burst of simmering rage back down to a cooler temperature, for them to settle themselves once more.

They would have risked the Order killing them, taking them away from their home once and for all, for him. 

“You are reckless,” Angor muttered, watching as his words dug into the back of Avalon’s neck. “You allowed yourself to be led astray by emotion. You could have risked the Order doing away with you completely. You still do.”

Silence. Heavy and aching. Avalon kept watch on the road, pinpricks of the streetlamp lights glancing off the beads that gathered in the corners of their eyes.

“I know that Strickler would not have wasted time or effort on ensuring my safe return. So…thank you.”

Avalon’s eyes widened in shock, twin discs of bright blue in their reflection. Hurt turned to surprise, to unconditional warmth that flooded into Angor as well. He couldn’t stop that sensation, always present in their company but now filling the whole van space around them. Their smile was small and yet mustered a strange relief throughout Angor’s chest.

“Thank you,” Avalon whispered.

“I…would have done so too, if our positions were exchanged,” Angor admitted quietly. Not just because they were important to the task at hand, but for an end to the silence that he had become so hating of in these past few days. Somehow they’d become necessary to being able to think and rest. It was unthinkable and true.

“Risked death to come and save my sorry ass from the risk of dying?” Avalon questioned, trying to smile but something choking their voice. Human emotions - strangely tolerable nowadays.

“I seem incapable of learning one lesson,” Angor replied. “Still, you have proven loyalty. I can’t deny the importance of that. And so, you have earned a little more of my respect, witchling.” His voice rumbled dangerously as he added, “Even if you did choose to be underhanded in sneaking a tracking charm onto my person.”

Avalon laughed, their voice less damp and more nervous now.

“You’d have never said yes if I’d just out and asked,” they muttered.

“Correct.”

Another small laugh. It buzzed about Angor’s ears like a pixie, with the threat of distraction just as high but the painful effects not as present.

The van rumbled along. Outside the windows, the sky peeked past the sloping valley walls as the road began to descend. Twilight blue lightened with pale orange, clouds turning to streaks of red near the horizon past the city lights below. With how they travelled down the hill towards a spread of streetlamps and windows, it was more like Avalon was driving the pair back into a starry night. But the sun would indeed be rising soon.

Angor’s attention drifted, examining the van’s interior more. He’d never been in one of these vehicles, not even since Strickler had explained them to him. Part of the reason being the majority were simply too small for his size. At a push he could probably outpace and outmanoeuvre these weighty beasts. This one at least was large enough to fit him, and would provide apt shelter from daylight. Although the last time Angor checked, Avalon definitely had no access to one of these sorts of vehicles.

The front seats were a mess. A bag of food stuffs lay askew at the feet of one of the empty seats, along with a couple of pillows and a thick blanket. Water bottles the size of Angor’s hand were jammed in there too, one empty and one halfway done.

“How long did you wait to come and find me?” Angor asked. There was no malice to his question, no underlying blame. Avalon knew he could be petty at times and certainly capable of revenge. But this? No, it was just a question. Didn’t stop their heart rate from skipping up a notch though.

“About a day,” they replied. “Once morning came and I saw the Trollhunter and his friends going around like nothing had happened but you hadn’t shown your face, I figured something was up. The tracking charm confirmed it. I asked Strickler if he’d sent you to collect something and he denied it, saying you were in the process of whatever next step you were on and that if you needed me you’d get me. I just…I had a bad gut instinct.” Their attention shifted briefly, brow furrowing in confusion. “What did happen out there?”

“The human girl took the Skathe-Hrün,” Angor explained, and Avalon sucked a breath through their teeth.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah that’ll fuck things up,” they muttered. “When you didn’t show up in the evening like you always do, I decided to try and…go get you.” They hesitated. Fingers tapping on the van’s wheel. “Stole this van.”

“You stole this vehicle.” Angor’s deadpan held neither pride nor disappointment in its tone.

“I wasn’t going to get you with a shitty little car, was I?! I needed something that could tote you back if - if you -” Avalon’s fingers were strumming up a faster tempo. Grim thoughts lingered on the outskirts of their mind, and they hurriedly stuffed them back out of reach. “Mostly needed something that could keep you safe from the sun, if you weren’t able to teleport back yourself.”

There was more to have been commented on there. Angor chose, perhaps for Avalon’s benefit, to not do so. He could leave those threads aside for another time or simply ignore them for his benefit.

“You need not have expended such energy and risk were I only a few further days away,” he grumbled.

“You, sir, are on foot. You don’t know how long it would’ve taken to reach Arcadia the rest of the way by your method of transport,” Avalon snapped back. “Look, if we keep going back with a couple more stops for, y’know…human stuff. We should be back in another few days.”

Angor squinted. Leaning further forward, he considered Avalon’s face. The shadows hung deeper under their eyes, expression drawn as they did their best to ignore how he drew closer.

“How much rest have you taken while coming out to find me?”

This time the hesitation was far more drawn out. Avalon licked at their lips, daring a cautious glance over their shoulder to catch Angor’s focused glare. He waited with the patience of someone who hunted well.

“Did a couple of all-nighters. Pulled over for power naps when I felt I was getting too tired,” they replied quietly.

“Avalon.” Their name echoed with a deep dismay, and it seemed to kick something over in their head. Pulling off to the side of the road with a sharp turn, Avalon tossed the van into brake and spun around in their seat.

“What?!”

Teeth met teeth. Their snap and glare colliding against Angor’s rolling growl. His claws dug into the seat fabric, small tearing sounds barely heard past the van’s engine still sputtering in the background.

“You steal this van, you risk the Order on your neck, you push yourself against your limits,” Angor intoned. “I admire loyalty, but not when it threatens to break. What good are your actions if they will only harm you in the end?”

Avalon trembled. Exhaustion, anger, maybe both. Maybe some secret third thing that even they didn’t know about. But they didn’t break away from Angor’s glare.

“Everything. Everything matters. Anything I can do is good,” they replied bluntly. “When my choices are the will of people who have made it known they don’t care about how I feel about shit, and the wellbeing of the one person who has in some, small, stupid ways cared about me? Then yeah, I’ll burn for him.”

For the first time in a long while, Angor felt a sharp jolt of true surprise. Avalon had often voiced this strange silly intent to keep him safe: his job was to kill the Trollhunter, their job was to look after him through it. For a while he’d thought it some pathetic attempt for the witchling to keep their hands clean of blood. But the words still remained, even in the first trials of breaking stone and snapping bone. The words got louder, in the quiet dark and in the grip of dizzying poison.

And now? Here? Such fealty could be so easily manipulated, a puppet on someone else’s strings, a dog on a leash that couldn’t see the stick for the loyalty it had for the leash bearer.

Angor was done with puppets and leashes.

Sitting in the contemplative silence, he could see Avalon’s energy beginning to wane, their shoulders dropping. They still fought to hold his gaze, but there was little left to fight with. He reached out, a claw dragging at the edge of their cheek to test how easily they gave way. And give way they did, falling back down into the driver’s seat, one hand on the dashboard to steady themselves. 

“You have found me now,” he said, keeping his voice to a steady rumble. “Do not burn yourself still. I say you rest, and we return once you have slept.”

The fight crumbled. If Avalon had been tired before, they were truly exhausted now. Slowly they nodded in agreement, shuffling around to turn off the van’s engine completely.

“Okay. Okay,” they murmured. “I need to cover up the windows first.”

Dawn finally began to crack its true light over the city below as Avalon pulled up a series of sheets, pinning them over the inside of the van windows. The orange swathe vanished behind a dusty muted grey, swallowing the van interior into a dimness, not a true darkness. Angor settled back down to rest his back against the seats as he listened to Avalon scrambled clumsily, pulling out their sleeping necessities. Finally, eventually, there was stillness.

“...Are you upset that I came out here?” Avalon asked quietly, voice almost muffled by seating. Angor pondered the question. The answer was easy. The truth was not.

“No,” he replied eventually. That would be all he’d say of his gratitude. 

After a while, Avalon’s breath turned from steady to sluggish. Angor sat, not restless, quiet and contemplative. Soon the pair would be back in Arcadia, and he was certain that the Impure Strickler would have words for their disappearance. The hunt would not be broken. But bitterness still bubbled below the surface, hand-in-cold-hand with the thoughts that had been stewing for days now.

Angor was going to get that ring.

He could try to trick Strickler into giving it up. Scare him enough that perhaps he’d deem his slimy life salvageable by returning the ring. Destroy his reputation within the Order. But the Inferna Copula was still Angor’s soul, and if he stepped too far out of line then all Strickler needed to do was yank and Angor would be stopped.

Briefly he glanced backwards, down at Avalon. They would make for a suitable way to try and reclaim the ring, with how they were able to get close to Strickler during the day. By far they trusted him enough that they likely would do as asked, if he asked. But the ‘how’ remained - taking the ring through underhanded measures (they could sneak a tracking charm into his pouch but he doubted they could sneak a ring off someone’s hand in broad daylight) or brute force (Strickler was a snake but snakes had fangs and the Janus Order was a full hydra of them) would not be easy. They had already decided to walk a tightrope once for his sake. He didn’t want to see them slip.

There were other avenues, of course. Other ways to go about this. Strickler would surely have enemies, and the enemy of one’s enemy was…not a friend, but a tenuous ally potentially.

Angor’s eyes lit up as a puzzle piece slipped into place.

The Trollhunter boy, of course. There were plentiful reasons for him to want to go after Strickler, the two were opponents on different sides of a large board after all. It didn’t help that Strickler had been the one to send Angor Rot after him, nor the case with the enchantment that linked the Impure’s lifeforce to the boy’s mother. If nothing else, twisting the arm by reminding him of their difference in skill level would be an apt way about it.

Looking back up, Angor could see that the light outside had shifted. The sun’s glare wouldn’t break through the cloth shield, but time had definitely passed. Avalon remained very much asleep, although with half the blanket kicked off and curled as best as possible into a ball. It didn’t take much effort to reach over and readjust the blanket.

The sound of car engines outside caught Angor’s attention sharply. There’d been plenty of traffic going past, idle noise throughout the hours. But these had pulled up close by and then cut off. His instinct prickled under his stone, picking the dagger from his belt.

The sun would be overhead by now. Shadows would be spread over the ground, the light facing down.

Gritting his teeth, Angor found the interior handle of the van and pulled it sharply, tugging the van door open.

Two cars were parked outside. A small group of people, a varying blend of human faces, all dressed in similar attire to Strickler and other humans that worked in that school of his. If it weren’t for the goblin faces that pressed against the window of the other cars, or for a painfully familiar round face with a stick of facial hair, Angor might have considered these only humans.

Cast still in shadow, he fixed the group of Impures with a dangerous glare. Even without the Skathe-Hrün, he was a master assassin for a reason.

No-one moved for a moment. The round faced one, Otto he faintly recalled, finally took the first step.

“Where is the witch?” he said sharply. Angor’s teeth sharpened on those words. He hadn’t heard Avalon move for hours, not even when the cars pulled up, but he doubted their body’s necessity to rest had pulled them into that deep of a sleep.

“They are here,” he replied.

“You must inform her-”

The growl that rolled out of Angor could have shaken mountains. If Avalon hadn’t been awake beforehand, they had to be now. Several of the Order members took a cautionary step back. Otto carefully readjusted his glasses. Angor could see his hand tremble in the motion.

“You must inform them that they are required to return to Arcadia at once. Else this will be seen as a violation of their contract,” he continued.

“There is no violation. Their task is to assist the Impure Strickler, and they are doing so.”

“But abandoning their grounds-”

“He ordered them to come and find me,” Angor interrupted. “And he is one of the Janus Order, is he not? They were placed in Arcadia to work for him. And so they do.”

A couple of the Order members began muttering to each other now. Otto’s expression went from a faux disapproval to a more realistic disgruntled. There was an opportunity to drive a wedge in, and Angor did enjoy a good opportunity for such things.

“Did he not inform his own Order?” he mused aloud. “Strange how easily it is for him to allow such things to go on out of sight and earshot.”

“Tell us what else he has planned,” Otto said a bit too quickly. Angor’s grin turned hungry, and the Impure realised his mistake.

“I do not take orders from you,” Angor growled, his smile feasting on each nervous face. “I only take orders from he who wields the Infernal Copula. And I see no ring on anyone’s finger here.”

A door quickly opened and shut with a slam. Angor didn’t bother to examine who had dived into the vehicle out of panic. His eyes were fixed on Otto, watching his expression for every shift, every sweatdrop that wasn’t just the noonday sun attacking his black attire. Little twitches across the Impure’s face carried thoughts, processing, the underlying score of fear and anger and threat of betrayal.

Good. Make them stab each other in the back.

“We will continue our work for Strickler,” Angor said firmly, before anything else could be turned back towards him. “The witchling will return once it is complete.”

“See to it,” Otto snapped, as if he had any say in the situation. His gaze flickered back and forth, looking for the person in question who, by some miracle, had not appeared at any point during the discussion. A slow venomous smile appeared before he doffed his hat. “Give them our regards.”

Angor snarled at his back as the Order members packed up, each slinking back to their cars before pulling away sharply back onto the road, goblins jeering at Angor from the back windows. Once they were little more than dust trails, he grabbed the door handle and dragged it shut once more.

Silence. Broken by small shaking breaths.

The van creaked as once more Angor got down to one knee, peering over the van seats. Still partially curled up on the seats, Avalon held themselves in a death grip, eyes wide and watering as they exhaled like someone was strangling them.

“Avalon.”

Barely a flinch. Angor gritted his teeth, before reaching over. Grabbing their shirt, he ignored the sudden break of their stupor and how they let out a sharp cry of panic as he dragged them over to his side. Their legs seemed unable to steady them, so one hand held them upright. The other hand gripped the side of their face and chin, turning their eyes on his. Their whole body trembled as their hands grabbed at his arms, tears now rolling down their cheeks as words failed to fall from between panicked wheezes. Angor’s grip on their head tightened carefully.

“Look at me,” he rumbled. “Look. Breathe.”

Avalon let out a small choked sob. It was enough to pry the edges of this ailment from their chest, as the wheezing became smoother, then deeper. His thumb pressed into their cheek, the cold a shock and a balm on their mind as all the shrieking panicking thoughts grew quieter and quieter. Long minutes passed before their body seemed to maintain composure once more, pulling in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly.

“Thank you,” they whispered.

“I told you of the risk,” Angor admonished, ever so lightly.

“I told you I knew about it. I just…didn’t think they would come after me so fast.”

The leash was tight. Tighter than expected. And it throttled them when faced with that fact. Avalon’s eyes closed, head relaxing into Angor’s palm. The motion startled him briefly, prompting him to shift his grip to their shoulder and keep them upright without their face seeming to melt into his hand. They quickly straightened up, coughing uncomfortably.

“Still, thank you for covering for me,” Avalon said hurriedly. “We should probably get going before they get too much distance on us, in case Otto decides to compare notes with Strickler.”

“Somehow I doubt he will,” Angor replied, watching as the witchling pushed themself over the van seats, tidying up the space for driving once more. “It is good to be cautious. But we aren’t going back to Arcadia just yet.”

“I - we aren’t?” Avalon squinted in confusion.

“There are some things I must collect, to deal with the Trollhunter and Strickler both. His time with the Inferna Copula comes to an end on my terms.” Angor’s words rolled together in a growl. Avalon watched him with a small sense of awe, before determination fixed on their brow and they nodded.

“Good. ‘Bout time he got some comeuppance,” they said. Carefully the sheet was removed, making sure no sunlight reached the back of the van, and then re-pinned over the van seats as a curtain. With Avalon out of sight, Angor settled back down to sit as the van engine spluttered to life, and the vehicle jerked and jumped its way back to cruising along the road.

Perhaps this was a good moment to test out questions. To pry into actions. To ask why. But Avalon did not take that moment. A shame.

“So, where are we going?”

“Due north-west of Arcadia. There are old troll grounds in the unmarked dirt.”

“Okay. And what’s down there?”

“You’ve been reading Strickler’s books. Tell me what you know of pixies.”

[quintiriss]

The Arcadia kids on Valentines day at some point 'cause i can

eh just late night thoughts

Aja would be invited to Earth by Steve for the day of the love and Varvatos would come because he wants to see Nana again.

Aja: "What is this 'Valentine's Day?'"

Steve would ramble about the events like how someone's partner would gift them chocolates and people would give someone a love letter that probably contains a confession of their love for them and how town would be decorated in hearts and crap.

Aja is in absolute awe and Varvatos would consider buying chocolates and flowers for Nana.

Meanwhile, Krel would be in the background trying not to gag.

Aja: "Look, little brother! Love really is in the air!"

Krel, spraying frebreze everywhere: "No."

"This is by far the most ridiculous human tradition I have ever heard of."

"Hey, Pepperjack, do you have a Valentine?"

"I wish."

Since Jim is human again he would get back into the baking zone and either bake a massive chocolate cake for his friends or maybe even for the whole school OR just make lots and lots of heart-shaped chocolates.

Claire would help decorate.

Toby and AAARRRGGHH!!! would be the delivery duo and send valentine cards all over town, kinda like newspaper boys.

They do this the night before the event so AAARRRGGHH!!! doesn't get hurt.

Douxie would probably ask Zoe to be his valentine with Archie's and Nari's encouragement.

This can be considered as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.

They hold like a party at the park for everyone to dance or do whatever in while enjoying Jim's baked goods.

Krel would be the DJ.

Krel also refuses to play sappy songs, so they get another person to do it before it's Krel's turn to play some cool beats.

In the meantime he, Claire and even Toby would try to teach Jim how to dance 'cause sorry Mr. Lake but you need some work.

Krel is surprisingly good at it when you ignore the time he did the floss (/lh).

Staja and probably Toby and Darci would most likely get somewhat matching outfits.

Jim and Claire too, probably.

Ok but imagine Jim in one of those kiss the cook aprons and just has "Specifically Claire" written with sharpie at the bottom of it.

Zoe would try to replace the blue dye in Douxie's hair with pink to match her hair and because valentines day.

She fails.

Douxie puts on a light show with Zoe's help to fit the love theme.

It's definitely more extravagant than what the Arcadians are used to but they love it.

Despite all the mushiness, Krel managed to enjoy himself.

Jim can finally (kind of) dance.

Yes, he did the floss out of nervousness.

Krel and Eli definitely made an anti-love group specifically for valentines.

They just vibe for the rest of the night.

Yes, Barbara and Strickler are there too and dancing together.

[uniquely-mystical03]

I, like everyone else, like to ship characters together in shows/movies.

Tales of Arcadia is a big example of that, so I think it should be something I talk about.

There are many ships in this franchise that have come alive throughout its existence.

• There are the canon ones: Jim x Claire, Toby x Darcy, Strickler x Barbara, Steve x Aja, etc.

• There are the ones that seem like they were supposed to be canon but were never acknowledged as a relationship: Douxie x Zoe, Krel x Mary, Krel x Douxie, Morgana x Guinevere, Blinky x AAARRRGGHH!!!, Steve x Eli, Zadra x Izita, etc.

• There’s the platonic/familial relationship ships: Douxie & Jim, Douxie & Claire, Jim & Toby, Zoe & Claire, Douxie & Nari, etc.

• Then, there are the ships that probably shouldn’t be a thing due to the canon relationship between the characters, but fanfiction/fanart portrays them too well for me to argue against it

Honestly, there are some TOA ships out there that I agree with and some that I don’t agree with, but everyone’s open to their own opinion, so I don’t make a big deal about it.

Ships seem to be a universal thing that everyone enjoys doing/seeing, so please support the ships you love, and if you don’t agree with a ship, don’t talk negatively about it to a person that supports it.

As I said before, everyone’s open to their own opinion, so… DON’T BE A BUTTSNACK!!!

What’s your favorite TOA ships?

I’d love to see what you guys think!

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

On Your Side

Jim x platonic!reader 

Summary: Jim realizes his new friend is a changeling.

Requested?: Yes! This was inspired by a fantastic anon's request:

Can you do one with a changeling reader and Jim? Like jim finding out one of his friends is a changeling but they are willing to risk their life to help him? It can be either romantic or platonic, you choose!

This was fun to write, thank you for the request!!

Warnings: Bular gets really angry and violent at y/n. Large bruise. Fluffy ending.

Fandom: Tales of Arcadia

Requests are open!!

You couldn’t believe what you were about to do, but you knew it was time. You were sick and tired of being a spy and being treated like trash. It was time to go where you were appreciated.

   You made your way under the bridge, careful to stay in full sunlight. Bular didn’t know you were planning to change sides, but you were still nervous.

Cars drove over the bridge, completely unaware of what was lurking beneath it. It was remarkable how they were completely unaware of the world living beneath their feet.

   You made your way into the canal and found Bular already lurking in the shadows. You had called this meeting and he probably expected some news on the Trollhunter. Little did he know was that you were done with him and spying.

   Standing in the sun, far enough away from the edge of the shade, you waited for the gumm-gumm prince to say something.

   “What news do you have of the Trollhunter?” He asked.

“None, I’m only here to tell you that I’m done spying,” you announced to the dark shadows that were hiding Bular. He didn’t respond so you continued. “I refuse to spy on the Trollhunter anymore, he doesn’t deserve it.”

   “You’d betray your kin?” Bular asked, finally speaking. His voice was low and angry, you braced yourself for an outburst. “If you do this I will not hesitate to kill you and the Trollhunter.”

   You took a step back, further into the bright sun. Bular stepped up to the edge of the shade and let out a roar, throwing a loose rock at you. It struck your cheek and you winced, retreating further into the light.

“I’d betray them gladly,” you stated, proud of the confidence in your voice despite the fact that you were terrified.

Bular didn’t say anything else, instead he roared and swung his sword in your direction. You took that as your cue to leave.

~~~~

You took a deep breath as you knocked on Jim’s door. You had asked him and Toby to meet you there so you could tell them what had happened. You were risking everything for your new friends and you could only hope that they would forgive you for being a Changeling and for spying on them, not like you’d told Strickler anything.

Jim answered the door and you took a deep breath and put a smile on, though it probably looked more like a grimace.

“Is everything alright?” Jim asked at the same time Toby asked, “How’d you get that bruise?”

“It’s a long story.” You took a shaky breath. “It’s actually what I’m here to tell you about.”

“Oh, uh, come in,” Jim said, stepping away from the door. You walked inside and moved to the living room taking a seat on the soft couch. The house was warm and cozy, much better than the sewers.

“You guys are my friends right?”

“Yeah, of course Y/n,” Jim affirmed, concern shining on his face.

“Okay, so I also have some old...friends, bad friends and I’ve decided to cut them off,” you started, thinking that you’d slowly get to telling them about being a changeling, you were scared about how they’d react.

Toby nodded, “Okay.”

“You guys have met these ‘friends’ and now that I’ve broken it off, they’ve threatened to kill us,” you explained, avoiding their eyes and looking out the window.

Toby tilted his head. “Wait, you’ve lost me.”

You sighed, building up the confidence to explicitly say it. “The ‘friend’ is Bular and company, I used to work for him.” Toby and Jim gasped. “I don’t anymore though, I quit, they’re really horrible and I couldn’t stay any longer. I’d prefer to help you guys, I’ve only known you for a little while, but you’ve been nicer to me then they ever were.”

Silence filled the room as Toby and Jim processed your words. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that they wouldn’t kick you out. You’d be dead if they did, Bular wouldn’t spare you and while you could fight you were in doubt that you could beat the gumm-gumm prince.

“So you’re a changeling?” Jim finally asked. You opened your eyes and saw that the boys’ expressions weren’t hostile. You sucked in a breath, hope filling your heart as you nodded.

“Awesome sauce!” Toby exclaimed and you smiled, letting out the breath you’d been holding.

“Wait, did Bular give you that bruise?” Jim asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I confronted him earlier this morning,” you admitted.

Toby frowned. “You should put some ice on that.” He stood and walked into the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Jim asked.

You nodded. “I feel better than I have in a very long time. I feel free.”

Jim gave a small smile, but things quickly fell into silence. You just sort of sat their fidgeting with your hands, wondering what to do or say.

Eventually you broke the silence. “I’m really sorry for spying.”

Jim looked up at you. “It’s fine Y/n, really. You were just doing what you had to.”

You tilted your head at Jim and pursed your lips. “Really? ‘Cause when you found out about Strickler you weren’t exactly happy.”

“Well, Strickler didn’t switch sides.”

“True. Though he’s really missing out.”

You and Jim laughed as Toby came back with a bag of frozen peas. Pressing the cold bag to your bruise you asked, “So what now?”

“We should tell Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, they’ll know what to do,” Jim suggested, getting up.

You and Toby stood as well, but before they could get to the door you called out, “Wait. I just wanted to thank the two of you for being my friends, it really means a lot.”

“Of course,” Jim said as he and Toby smiled. You smiled too, grateful for this new chapter in your life.

****

Thanks for the request, I hope y'all liked it. Have a wonderful and safe day/night!! I wish you all the best!!

P.S. I am open to requests!!!!!

P.P.S. If you want to be on my taglist for all things Tales of Arcadia, feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn't.