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#(CAN YOU TELL I AM UNWELL AND HYPERFIXATING ????)
bbreaddog · 7 months
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buckybarnesss · 7 months
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Lurker now follower here, hi hi, I love your blog and all your insights and thoughts on Teen Wolf and Sterek!! I just finished a rewatch and then immediately started over from the beginning because I am Unwell 😂😂😂
I’m on episode one and I gotta say it’s pretty hilarious how Stiles immediately recognizes Derek. Like, I can only imagine how obsessed he was with the fire and the Hale family, and now Derek is back!!
I don’t really have more coherent thoughts on this, just my brain going BRRRRR so yea lol 😂😂
hi! welcome!
i know we all joke about how stiles immediately knows it's derek hale that he and scott run into because it is funny. like stiles baby. honey. the signs were there.
i've always gotten the impression the fire is something stiles remembers very, very well.
the hale fire changed beacon hills. the hales had been there since the town's foundation. they were a well off, prominent family. there was reason to suspect arson. multiple children died and the only known survivors were two barely adult children and a severely burned, comatose man.
laura and derek were high schoolers. cora was eleven years old and presumed dead.
we're told the only thing left recognizable of talia hale were her claws.
it's the definition of a tragedy.
not to think of the supernatural repercussions to the vacuum left behind.
stiles would've been about 10 when the fire occurred which is young but old enough to understand the severity of such an event. especially as the child of the sheriff.
he probably saw how it weighed on his father and had a healthy dose of morbid curiosity. he may have even have knew cora hale in that passive way you know other kids in your school even if you don't know them personally. one day there and the next dead. for someone like stiles who gets hyper-focused on things and has a lot of anxiety stemming from the death of his mother i can easily imagine how his mind didn't let it go.
meeting derek in person created a hyperfixation so intense and so unhinged it led to him recognizing teen derek hale at 50 paces or less in a mexican desert several years later.
as he got to know derek he unlocked the layered tragic backstory stiles really became derek's secret keeper.
and it is only stiles that gets these pieces of the puzzle that is derek hale. he's the one who goes through the hale fire files, he's the one who pieced together that kate argent preyed on a young derek and he knows about paige.
i find it interesting choice to have only stiles know these things about derek. scott never learns of these things that could possibly make him more empathetic towards derek. the writers don't use it that way.
especially because stiles learning these things never goes anywhere overt. it's all in the subtext of the relationship between derek and stiles.
like, stiles learns about paige and he does nothing with this information but we do see him with tears in his eyes over it. he doesn't ever learn that paige's death gave power to the nemeton either. jennifer only tells derek that.
he knows all of this about derek and never tells anyone. he only ever alludes to knowing about kate one time and it's in the overlooked when he gets in derek's face. i'm unsure derek's even aware stiles knows about paige. stiles carries all these secrets about derek and he never uses it against him. instead he continues to keep coming back again and again and again for derek.
more importantly he understands derek and what is love but the mortifying ordeal of being known.
that all said stiles is absolutely unhinged about derek and derek does nothing to curb this by the way. if it bothered him he'd stop it but they are freak4freak so derek probably finds it charming even if he puts up a few token protests just to bait stiles.
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blockmenmakemecry · 2 months
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HELLO
You can call me Blocks!
Or anything, I'm really not too fussed
I am a writer and artist!
Please if you're interested in anything I do tell me!! Ask me questions!!!
I have autism and my current ongoing hyperfixation has been minecraft, for literally as long as I can remember
Since it was released?
I am currently in love with these MC series!! Please talk to me about any of them!
Hermitcraft
Left Behind
Life Series
Series I'm not quite over yet
Achievement Hunter King Series (but I can't bring myself to rewatch them)
Yogscast (like moonquest and yogslab, they make me cry atm lmao)
I am quite unwell so I'll do my best to stay off tumblr when it's bad so I don't go reblogging some sad or possibly upsetting stuff!
I am not savvy at Tumblr so one day I may change this post to be more readable/accsessable with tags and what not
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harlequinoccult · 1 year
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This might be a total coincidence but are you prince lapin? Your icon is familiar from other IF discords. what are your favourite ifs??
ah shit lads ive been found out Yeah, thats me !! the hyperfixation got so strong i needed to write my own
SPEAKING OF. you have opened pandoras box. god have mercy on you. Woe, Interactive Novels be upon ye.
CHOP SHOP by @losergames i fucking love crime. And they way everything is written? mwah. byootiful. like im watching a fucking movie.
WOLF SET FREE by @wolfsetfree-if WULFEBOUND by @wulfebound WEREWOLF NOIR by @canismaxim-games BLOOD MOON by @barbwritesstuff
I AM SO GAY ABOUT WEREWOLF SHIT YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
THE EXILE by @exilethegame I was (and am) hyperfixated on this singular game for a very very long time and my commander is the poorest little meow meow that i love repeatedly throwing against a wall and into a meatgrinder 💖
FIELDS OF ASPHODEL by @chrysanthemumgames I am so deeply unwell over Hades. but also i never noticed the simiarities that persephone and dionysus have and it makes me go insane to think about.
THE NAMELESS by @parkerlyn not only is my own bastard cat thing on an mc the most fun to draw, but it has reawakened my feralty over fae settings and fae creatures. also parker is just like. one of the sweetest people ever created??? illegal. how are they so nice.
THE NORTHERN PASSAGE by @northern-passage not only am i deeply unwell about Lea, but i adore deeply inhuman mcs <- (the transgenderism speaking). I also just like. respect the hell out of kit fr. takes absolutely no bullshit. absolute inspiration.
GREENWARDEN by @fiddles-ifs Bautista. I am unwell. do i have a type? perhaps. shut the fuck up about it. mc is deeply neurotic and a freak (complementary) (affectionate)(relatable)
SPEAKER by @speakergame one of the BEST writers of sibling interaction, hands down. one of the first twine IFs i have ever played and god it is so fuck quality. my god.
EVERYTHING BY @heart-forge oh my god. oooohhhh my fucking god. where do i begin. all of their projects are so fucking good and distinct. i can tell you i am unwell about trigger siruud and valerian and you could probably diagnose me with something but i dont care. i am going to fucking explode their shit is so quality.
EVERYTHING BY @pdrrook how do they do it. no seriously how the fuck do they do it. magic? are they fae? did they sell their soul to the devil? banger project after banger project after banger project. ALL of their shit is quality AND THEY DO NOT MISS. EVER.
THE GRAND HEIST by @thegrandheist-if BRO I FUCKING LOVE CRIME. LOVE BEING A BASTARD.
EVERYTHING BY @jaunefleurwrites fun highschool detectives!!! :) AND THEN MY FUCKING HEART GETS SHATTERED.
LEGEND OF A SAVIOR by @legend-of-a-savior-if THE DRAMA.....THE INTRIGUE......i loved fucked up cults. I loved fucked up shit. I hate my mom. thank u.
EVERYTHING BY @leftski-if bro......the softness of orcs......leftski gets it. everyday i thank them for my FUCKING life. (wolfsbane has werewolf shit, and as you know i am. Gay. About. It.)
VIRTUE'S END by @virtues-end you already fucking know who the fuck i am unwell about if you read the rest of this god damn list. dont fucking @ me. (barghest best helvling)
VENDETTA by @vendetta-if ok hear me out guys. have i mentioned the i love crime. that i love being a nasty crime boy? well jokes on you fucker im a vigilante.
THE KING'S HOUND by @the-kingshound Mordred is my fucking son and if anything happens to him i will kill everyone in this room and then myself.
BASTARD OF CAMELOT by @llamagirl28 the drama.....the fucking drama......my mordred, a literal ten year old has their shit together better than his fucking parents. this is my fucking soap opera. i have my fucking popcorn at the ready.
THE BALLAD OF DEVILS CREEK by @devilscreekballad Okay no jokes, i absolutely and genuinely hope the author of this IF gets to be in a better spot financially and health wise. This IF is so fucking phenomenal and the dedication to the time period without shirking away from sensitive topics is honestly insane. i absolutely wish them the best. 🌻
And finally, what might be the first twine if i ever played-
SCOUT by @anya-dev im crying. im scratching at the floorboards. im crawling on the walls. im barking in a cage. scout is such a fucking interesting post apoc story. the reason is unclear but at the time of the story it doesnt particularly matter. but at the same time it does so much. i want to know SO MUCH. Oliver was the fucking blueprint for my god damn brainrot.
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danceswithdarkspawn · 5 months
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Can I ask you to ramble about your current hyperfixation?
Currently I am absolutely mentally unwell about a really dumb dinosaur game called Ark Survival Evolved (and/or Ascended) but that's not why you come to this blog probably so
Currently rotating a lot of 'what if' scenarios about the final battle with the archdemon in my head like a rotisserie chicken.
You might have seen my post along the lines of, 'what if the Dark Ritual was done, but it didn't work?' The archdemon still dies, but so does the Warden who killed it. Absolutely nothing was gained (ok we saved the bleeding world i guess) and potentially a romantic partner was lost.
Screaming crying throwing up over telling a romanced Zev/Leliana that a Warden has to die so that a Blight can end, but not that there was a sliver of a chance they could get out alive. Frothing at the mouth about the Warden reassuring them everything will be fine, they'll kill the archdemon and go home, knowing full well that they're going to die. Absolutely feral thinking about the anguish they cause.
Tearing my hair out over a Morally Evil Warden that betrays his companions at critical points in the story. Romances Leliana, but kills her at the Urn. Hands Zevran back to the Crows. Finesses his way to the throne. Lets Alistair kill the Archdemon. Lets everyone else do fuckall with no regard to them. Somehow survives the Blight but is far from hailed as a hero but oops he's the fucking king. (this one isn't really Final Battle centric but it makes my brain go BRRRRRRRRR with all the World State goodness)
OUT OF MY MIND OBSESSED with a mage!Inquisitor (or any Inquisitor, really) that goes above and beyond to be an IMAGE of a HOLY FIGURE to Thedas but behind closed doors they are DYING INSIDE because this is not who they are and they never wanted this in any lifetime. (also not Origins centric but AAAAAAAAAAAAAA)
I think that's sufficient rambling. Is that good? I will probably ramble about this ramble if prompted with specifics.
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gretchenzellerbarnes · 5 months
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9 people you would like to get to know better
Tagged by @renlyslittlerose, apologies for the delay, this has been sitting in my drafts for ages now 😅
1. 3 ships:
Obikin - I. Am. Obsessed. With these two idiots. My current hyperfixation with Obikin started in the run up to the Kenobi series when I went back and rewatched the prequels and TCW (weirdly Obikin as a ship didn't register for my poor oblivious bisexual arse when the prequels came out). They're equals, more intimate than lovers, two halves of a whole warrior, they spend a lot of their time together bickering like an old married couple. Ahsoka refers to them as her parents in TCW season 7. Where there is one, the other is not far behind. I'm sure it was @/gffa who wrote a meta about how (whether you view their relationship as platonic or romantic) Obi-Wan Kenobi IS the love of Anakin Skywalker's life. To me they are the Star Wars ride or die. They ended tragically in life (in canon). They lived happily ever after as force ghosts. The love was there... 😭. I am Unwell about them.
Ineffable Husbands/Wives/Spouses - An Angel and a Demon. Hereditary Enemies. Unapologetically queer. The Autistic + ADHD ship. The angel is a fussy hedonist who will cut a bitch if they damage his books. The demon is genderfluid and serves cunt on a regular basis (especially at the crucifixion). 6000 glorious, frustrating years of pining. Bad. At. Their. Jobs. Just fuckin' kiss already (heheh, yeah that didn't work out so well 😅).
Thoschei - The Doctor and The Master. They were never married. They're divorced. They're childhood sweethearts. They've killed each other at least twice. They change genders like most people change socks. They should've fucked (you can tell I have a thing for enemies to lovers, right? 🤣). They've both destroyed their own civilisation at least once. Whenever The Master shows up you never know if they're gonna kill each other or fuck nasty (or both). For once brief shining moment (Twelve x Missy, World Enough And Time) they could've been more. Again, they have this tragic thread of "it shouldn't have ended like this, but it did". Unlikely to have a happy ending ever (unless through the pages of fanfic).
Special shout out to: Rebelcaptain (my other SW ride or die), Mulder x Scully (see below), Ventrobi (what? I'm a multishipper, and these two are constantly flirting every time they fight. They totally fucked after Revenge), Blackbonnet, and Catradora.
2. first ever ship:
Mulder and Scully - I shipped these two before I even knew what shipping culture and fandom was. I remember 10 y/o me watching the first episode of The X Files (and being shit scared to fall asleep for months because I was scared aliens were gonna abduct me lol 👽) and just being hooked on the series. And as the series progressed I became hooked on these two and their partnership. My OG ride or die ship, they are the reason that most of my other ships have that ride or die, banter and bicker like an old married couple, best friends, equals, you cannot find one without the other, no one understands me like this person understands me vibe.
3. last song:
Cat Pierce - You Belong To Me
4. last movie:
Barbie.
Finally watched it last night. Currently have I'm Just Ken stuck in my head 💖
5. currently reading:
Dune by Frank Herbert.
I am. Obsessed. After watching the 2021 film - it's probably my most watched comfort film atm.
6. currently watching:
Loki, GBBO, Strictly Come Dancing, Ahsoka (rewatch), SW Prequels. After question 2 I'm wondering if it's time for an X Files rewatch.
7. currently consuming:
Mint and lime iced green tea (tastes better than it sounds) and rice pudding.
8. currently craving: Chicken noodle soup from my local Chinese takeaway.
I tag: anyone who wants to have at it because I am crap at the tagging lol 😆💖
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500wordsormore · 1 year
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Dear Tumblr Diary, how do I tell my family I don't want to be near them anymore?
Ok I procrastinated posting for a while, and now I'm finally giving in. I'd wanted to ~*cultivate a theme and aesthetic*~ and practice writing on big important topics that I cared about. Thanks to my chronic perfectionism, that didn't happen so now it's my garbage can where I can infodump and move on with my life because god DAMN, I need to get this off my chest. If I can't get my own family issues off my chest how am I ever going to get my nuanced takes on race and religion out? It's probably best if I shoot myself in the foot by oversharing my own personal flaws straightaway rather than not planning on doing it at all?
The Apple Watch was designed with the intention of removing the water that would get inside of it, not preventing water from ever entering. That's not any kind of reverence or praise for a brand or product, btw, it's just a good example of practical planning.
So, I'd like to whine about my family for a little while.
They fucking suuuuuuck-ughh they're the most annoying passive-aggressive ingrates in my life and I don't want to visit them. Our dynamic is, in fairness, complex, but it is not complicated, as it were. There's a lot of history to be sure, but the thing is that none of it is particularly challenging or unique. By their own insistence, we are all perfectly mundane "normal" people. To be clear, we are not. Chronic illness of body and mind runs on both sides, and I'm 50:50 mixed so there is definitely some real baggage to unpack, but again, none of it is beyond the grasp of allegedly rational adults.
The problem, is that the key to the metaphorical baggage's lock, is their terminal martyr complexes and passive aggression. And I mean terminal when I say/write it. My grandparents have been unwell for a while, and over the last winter holiday season it was revealed to me just how bad it's become.
My grandmother has lived her whole life with the "classic" anxiety/depression combo you naturally get from being raised in the worst time for women with chronic illnesses. Her suicidal ideations have been roundly dismissed by my entire family because "she's always been like that", and that has always made me nauseous. Over Christmas dinner my aunt and uncle so casually discussed how she has stopped taking her daily medication that she needs to survive, and has been flowing in and out of the hospital almost monthly, and I finally lost it.
I shouted and cried and jabbed my finger at them and told them I was sickened by their behavior. I lamented them, and my mother. I bitterly insisted that they had raised me better than this, that we, their children, would never stand for this treatment to befall them. And as I looked around at their blithely patient faces I choked and realized that nothing I said registered to them. They blinked placidly and smiled and tried to gently explain to me why their negligence was excusably normal my own hearing clouded.
Ever since then A darkness has grown in me. I have hated myself for hating myself for hating myself for not being able to admit this, but it must be said: I don't want to be near them anymore. I still love them, in a kind of biologically obligatory way, but I can't stand their presence. I want none of my time to be shared with their wastes of breath. I am openly neurodivergent in most spaces, but not in my own family's home. It's taken time for me to realize and accept, but I now understand that this is indicative of a bigger problem.
My family members are the kind of performative "normals" that reek of abnormality and denial. Their pathological devotion to the mainstream is the only visible passion they ever display, and its fierceness rivals that of my own hyperfixations. They want to pretend that they're pretending that "ThEre'S nOtHiNG wRonG WitH bEInG Different(tm)" when in reality they are the different ones. They're fucking kooks, weirdos raised by religious zealots who had a late start on real life. My white mom has two brown daughters, that look nothing like her. "Normal" was never an option.
I've been manically giggling all week in anticipation of Easter dinner, mocking their solipsistic tone in a nasal whine: "oh nooooo! We don't know how to use our words and now our parents are slowly dying in front of our eyes and there's nothing to be done for it! If only we had learned the English words for emotions then maybe we could have communicated them." and I think to myself: "gods, what is wrong with me?"
My plan is to openly use my vape at this even. I can either mask my neurodivergence or my THC use, but not both anymore. i don't even know if this is 500 words. Wish me luck.
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space-sheep08 · 2 years
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Suspiria (2018) dir. Luca Guadagnino // The hand has twenty-seven bones by Natalie Diaz // La Pianiste dir. Michael Haneke
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GAH, i am unwell, but -
in my current rewatch of only spn episodes that focus on reapers/death, I have unfortunately Come to a Notion, and I am going to share it with you because once again Nobody Asked.  
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Yes, this is about how we Can Still Win, even after 15x20. 
[other than of course reading my post-15x20 WIP, Angels Don’t Fear the Reaper, the first chapter of which can be found on AO3 here]
so this is an extension of the theory that 15x20 is not actually heaven (because of beers and lighting), and my particular addition to the “Dean is not yet in heaven in 15x20″ lore is - 
The Bobby that greets Dean in 15x20 is not Bobby - he is actually Dean’s reaper.
for the love of Chuck I truly cannot watch a single episode of spn like a normal person.  Put your clown nose on, buddies, and come bounce around the padded walls with me - after the cut!
Okay.  First, it’s important to note that SPN has a history of intentionally using lighting/camera work as part of the story, specifically in grounding location for the viewer, for example, to convey when characters are in an alternate universe (Purgatory, Apocalypse World, The Bad Place) or experiencing an alternate/altered reality such as a djinn dream - or, for purposes of this Essay - the limbo in between life and death whilst dying.  
That space is explored a few times in the show, but the first detailed expose occurs in 7x10: Death’s Door with Bobby, as he races through his memories trying to escape his own reaper -
an example of the lighting/blurred camera work from 7x01 can be found here -
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[please keep the image of Bobby’s outfit in your mind]
This lighting/blurred camera work appears again in 9x01, when Sam is dying, and is mentally here:
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where they have the audacity to make the “part of Sam’s mind that is ready to accept death” appear as Bobby.
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Bobby is literally used in the narrative to lead Sam towards Death, convincing Sam to accept dying.  Who usually has that job in SPN?  Reapers.
***and remember, from 2x01: In My Time of Dying, that reapers can change their form as well as a soul’s perception of surroundings -
!DEAN You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, uh, a pretty girl. You are much prettier than the last reaper I met.
TESSA/REAPER I was wondering when you would figure it out.
!DEAN
I should have known. That whole "accepting fate" rap of yours is far too laid back for a dead chick. But the mother, and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out.
TESSA/REAPER It's my sandbox, I can make you see whatever I want.
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Compare this to Bobby’s dialogue with Sam in 9x01:
SAM 
I want to fight. I do. But I just feel like...
BOBBY  
Like you got nothing to swing at? Like you're punching at shadows? You got to let go of fightin' and scratchin' and lookin' for loopholes, 'cause that ain't happenin'.
SAM 
So – so, what? I - I - I just die?
BOBBY 
Just die? All the good you've done, all the people you've saved, all the sacrifices you've made? You've saved the world, son. How many people can say that? How many people can say that they have left this godforsaken hunk of dirt that much a better place? What you call dyin' I call leavin' a legacy.
**please hyperfixate on the word legacy for a minute and embed it in your brain for later
***what’s interesting is that this is very out of character for Bobby, and 9x01 actually reminds us of that in a prior scene ->
DEAN
Shut it, Sam. [to BOBBY] You – go. Oh, and, uh, before you throw me under the bus, you're welcome for the hell rescue.
BOBBY 
Hey, first of all, you didn't rescue jack, half-wit. Sam did. Second of all, Sam, you're in a coma. Now, suck as that may, sometimes that's just the way things go.
DEAN  
What are you talking about? There's always a way. You taught us that.
***this dialogue also contains a very specific callback to 8x19: Taxi Driver, where Bobby has this to say to Sam about accepting the finality of things-
BOBBY
Must have been hell on you not being able to get him out all that time. You did try?
SAM
Look, Bobby, Dean and I had an agreement, okay?
BOBBY I know that agreement. I taught you that agreement. That's a non-agreement. I get the feeling a lot must have happened while I was gone.
***keeping all of this in mind, let’s move on to 15x20: Carry On (sorry)-
where we have this lighting/blurred camera work 
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and the first person Dean sees in ‘Heaven’ is. . . Bobby
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[hmm; that outfit looks familiar]
It also drives me crazy that Bobby is just sitting here, relaxing on a rocking chair 
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since this was Bobby’s primary concern before heading to heaven in 8x19 after he was rescued from actual hell -
BOBBY
But if they give me a rocking chair up there, I'm raising hell. 
Consider Also the final scene in 10x17: Inside Man, after Bobby leaves his boring ass Chuck Heaven house to help Sam and Cas break Metatron out - and Bobby tells Sam “it's the happiest I've been in forever” after he assists him and Cas in Chaotic Causing of Problems.
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so, yeah - Bobby in a rocking chair as his perfect heaven is kind of. . .again, out of character.
Also I can’t ever discuss 10x17 without including this -
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you’re welcome.
Anyway, back to the Derogatory 15x20 - after Dean chats with “Bobby,” it’s time to drive around In The Car.
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hmm, remember Sam’s ‘dying mind limbo’ plot in 9x01?  
Also starts In The Car.
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incheresting.
The 15x20 drive, however, is spliced with the Sam’s Long Life Montage, and what would convince Dean to accept death more than if his staying dead meant Sam having a long, normal, happy(??) wig life.
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[had to.]
also -
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*** something something children are a legacy something ***
and look, more blurred camera work.
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oh, are they playing catch?
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that’s cute.
An interesting irl addition to all of this is that Jarpad is on record claiming that 15x20 is his favorite episode of spn, and his second favorite is - 8x23: Sacrifice.  You know, the one where Sam dies.  The one immediately preceding 9x01.
BONUS:
Potential Reaper Bobby to dying Sam in 9x01 ->
BOBBY 
Everything inside you need to help you on your way. Go on, son. I'll be waiting for you with a couple of cold ones.
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cool, cool, cool.
Anyway.  Hope this ruined your day as much as it did mine.  LYLAS
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gold-kobold · 3 years
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How To Fight A Shadow
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13: The Big Anxiety Mood | 14 | 15 | 16 
The Trollhunters brainstorm Glamour Mask precautions. Angor Rot debates on how to mend the rough patch with Dictatious. Rough patch turns out to be much larger than he anticipated. .
BOOM BOOM SHAKE THE ROOM, HAVE SOME FANFICTION, YOU HECKERS-
i couldn’t think of a serious title for this chapter i’m sorry
also godbless q for dealing with my horrible time management skills sorry bae ily
also also, coding’s being weird again, so i’ma just use periods to space the paragraphs until that glitch gets fixed lol
.
“Fire in the hole!”
The first sound that Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Angor Rot were greeted to was Toby’s emphatic shout, followed by the much louder sound of Dvarkstones being set off.
“It really worries me how often you guys resort to explosives to solve our problems.” Claire said, only uncrossing her arms to brush some of the residue from the blast off her shoulder. 
“What can I say? Sometimes a good explosion really gets the job done!” Toby chirped, but he put his hands on his hips with a huff when the smoke cleared, showing that their blockade hadn’t been blasted hard enough. “Not in this case though, I guess.”
When Claire saw the three trolls approaching, she gave him a nudge. “Well don’t worry, the master of blowing things up is on his way now.” She said, smirking at Blinky.
“I am flattered, fair Claire.” Blinky chuckled, holding up the Lodestone pieces. “But it seems we may need to try this approach first.”
As Angor got closer, he saw that the entrance to the Forge had been jammed shut with large, broken or warped hunks of metal from Trollmarket’s destruction. If they were to use their training grounds again, they had to be able to get into it.
Unfortunately, the pressure that the metal had been put under had crammed everything together in an awkward mess, pieces being warped around each other and piercing the walls... No wonder this was becoming such a chore.
Angor kept his distance from the entrance for now, until his assistance might be needed. The first time he was here, he’d been trying to kill them all, not to mention how he disrespected these honouring grounds of previous fallen Trollhunters... He may as well have spat on their graves while he was at it.
Angor stood back with the teens as Aaarrrgghh and Blinky started testing out the Lodestone. When he got a good look at Toby, he raised an eyebrow. “... You look unwell.”
“See! Even Angor thinks so!” Claire exclaimed right after he’d pointed it out. “You look like a zombie, take a nap already!”
“First of all, I look awesome.” Toby argued, waggling his finger. “Second of all, when did you get a twin sister?”
A look of concern dressed her face for a split second, but that changed to mild annoyance when she realized Toby was messing with her. She smacked her snickering friend’s arm.
“Has there been anything strange on the cameras?” Angor asked. With how hard he’s been hyperfixating on this lately, surely Toby would’ve noticed something by now?
Toby’s smile fell, and he sighed. “There’s been nothing. And that’s what’s strange.” It was driving him nuts, to be honest.
“Hmm.” Angor clicked his tongue. “Your mind will not be alert if you don’t let it rest. You could miss important details in your fatigue.”
“That is what we keep trying to tell him.” Blinky called over in agreement as he and Aaarrrgghh set up a Lodestone shot.
“Hey, it’s not like you’ve been the best at getting much sleep, either!” Toby pointed out in an attempt to divert their attention. Angor couldn’t really deny it, especially since they’ve probably seen him checking their borders on the cameras.
They all paused their conversing when Blinky attached the pieces, and shot the Lodestone into the ground. The metal heap made some groaning noises, rattling in response to its strong magnetism, but the pile ultimately remained unbudged.
“... I don’t need near as much sleep as a human whelp.” Angor pointed out when the noise quieted down. Claire was unconvinced by that weak argument, but Toby felt the conversation about to turn back on him anyways, and he was not interested in getting hounded yet again.
“Oh hey, I have an idea!” Toby said, changing the subject. He jumped forward, gesturing at the jammed Forge entrance, and looked at Angor. “Remember last time, when you were still all crazy-town-banana-pants, and you did that neat magic thing in the Forge and made everything fly up in the air all weird?”
Angor was surprised, to say the least, that Toby could bring up the near-murder of his best friend in such a nonchalant manner... He’d thought that might be a touchy subject, he had been very… “crazy-town-banana-pants”, partially why he was concerned about returning to the Forge at all, but... “I remember, yes. You... want me to do that again?”
“If you make this junk all lighter with your weird voodoo gravity powers, it might make it easier to move.” Toby said with a casual shrug.
Claire pointed at her own eyes, then at Toby. I’ll be watching you, if Angor remembered that human gesture correctly. Fair enough, given how the boy keeps subject-changing his own health.
“Well... Alright...” Angor stepped forwards, two purple swirls of magic starting to glow in his hands. Looking to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, he told them, “Stand back.”
The pair moved a safe distance away, all bystanders giving him space as he started that mysterious incantation. Just like the first time they’d seen this, Angor Rot was lifted into the air by a mysterious force, and as his spell continued, pieces of rubble began to float all around them.
Blinky’s eyes turned to Toby and Claire at first. They were watching with full interest, not seeming at all bothered by this familiar scene. He probably shouldn’t be bothered either, Angor hasn’t done anything wrong since joining them, but this was just... such a blatant reminder of the terrifying attacks he’d put them all through, way back when. It brought a frown to Blinky’s face.
When he felt Aaarrrgghh give him a slight nudge, he looked over to see the Krubera looking back with a questioning and concerned expression. Blinky gave him half a smile as a sort of reassurance, patted his arm, and returned his gaze to Angor, his frown quickly returning.
With the combined force of the Lodestone and Angor Rot’s magic, something finally dislodged among the stubborn metal, and it all came tumbling out with a deafening crash.
Dropping to the ground, Angor Rot dusted himself off, and heard Toby yelling an enthusiastic “AW YEAH” from behind him.
“I knew that’d work!” Toby beamed, basically hopping up and down. “The Forge has been freed!”
“Yeah, but now we’ve got to move all this junk.” Claire said with a smirk. Toby deflated immediately and blew a raspberry in response.
But then there was the ringing of Claire’s cell phone. Why did they always get interrupted by cells at either the most convenient or inconvenient times? There was no in-between.
“Hey, Jim. How’s it going?” Claire answered. She listened quietly, and her face fell slightly. “Oh, okay... Is everything alright? … Right, okay. We’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone, and addressed the others’ concerned looks. “Jim needs to talk to Toby and I, says it’s pretty important. Sorry to bail on you guys…”
“Oh, that’s quite alright. Duty calls, run along.” Blinky assured them, waving them off. There was a slight pause, and he also added, “And take Angor with you. Aaarrrgghh and I can handle this.”
At that, Angor raised an eyebrow. “... Are you sure?” He asked. “I haven’t done much.”
“You’ve helped enough, thank you.” Blinky assured him as politely as he could sound. “We can take care of the rest.”
Toby and Claire didn’t seem to question their friend’s decision. “Alrighty, if you’re both sure.” Toby said, shrugging.
Angor gave Blinky one last puzzled look, but didn’t push the topic. He followed the other two.
Blinky was relieved to see that troll go, and Aaarrrgghh could tell. He’d been giving Blinky a weird look for a while now. “... What?” Blinky eventually asked.
“Hmm. You being weird…” Aaarrrgghh pointed out in his worry. “Want to talk about it?”  
“Ah... No, no, that’s alright.” Blinky sighed, picking up some of the scraps. “Just brought up some unpleasant memories, that’s all.”
Aaarrrgghh had already been killed at the point Angor was attacking Jim here, but he was understanding enough to know why this situation might’ve bothered him. He nodded slowly, and simply went to help the small troll start cleaning. 
.
I think they’re just worried about you, to be honest.
Angor remembered Blinky’s words to him as he followed the chatting teens up the crystal stairway. What reason did they have to be worried this time? 
To their credit, Angor hasn’t been completely focused lately, but they shouldn’t be wasting their concerns on that so often… He’d been debating on asking about this as they walked, but some little voice in his head had given him pause.
Why should he keep constantly questioning any small act of care that they show him? He didn’t need to. It’s not like they have any ulterior motives for it, so he should stop acting like they do.
They’re just caring people. That’s not something that needs questioning.
He decided to keep quiet.
When they reached the top, exiting Trollmarket to see a troubled, pacing Jim Lake Jr. waiting for them beneath the bridge, his friends approached with frowns on their faces.
“What’s the matter?” Claire had asked again.
Jim had started to unload his concerns, but he paused immediately when he saw Angor Rot.
“Oh, uh…” Giving Angor an apologetic look, Jim said, “Sorry man, I kinda wanted to discuss this with just Claire and Toby first. Is it okay if we catch you up later...?”
“Of course.” Angor agreed without a second thought. Taking caution wasn’t something that would bother him, nor did he seem offended that he was being sent away yet again in the past ten minutes, which was a relief. Even all that besides, he had other concerns on his mind rather than this... “Do what you need to.” 
They exchanged goodbyes, waved as Angor went on his way, and Jim’s friends turned their attention on him.
“So, really, what’s up Jimbo?” Toby asked.
“Sorry, this is going to be weird. Please just answer these honestly, okay?” Jim warned them. He then looked at Claire and asked, “What’s the first song we danced to?”
Claire seemed puzzled, but she looked up in thought, then said, “Oh, that was on Spring Fli- Oh, no wait, I guess it was technically in the Quagawump Swamp, wasn’t it?” She laughed at the memory before answering, “So I guess it would’ve been ‘Boom Boom, Shake The Room’? Or that other Quagawump song, I don’t know what they called it...”
“Yeah, ha. Good times.” Jim also couldn’t help but to crack a smile at that - God, his dancing had been horrible - but he brushed that thought away and turned to Toby next. “What was the toy you gave me when we first became friends?”
“Oh, that’s easy! It was a brand new Sally-Go-Back robot monster action figure!” Toby fired back in a flash. “Those things are probably worth some good cash now, y’know.”
When Jim sighed in relief, Claire gave him an inquisitive look. “What’s with the sudden questionnaire?” She asked him.
“Ehh... Well... Let’s just say Nomura and I might’ve figured out the fake Draal problem…”
.
When Jim filled his friends in on the situation, they all just sat in uncomfortable silence for some time. 
The thought of somebody going around, possibly impersonating more of their friends than just Draal, it was enough to get under anybody’s skin. What an unnerving thought... 
Now it was just a matter of what to do about this situation.
“Well…” Toby eventually spoke, “We’ll... have to warn as many people as we can, but that means we’ll have to come up with some questions to make sure they’re who they say they are first…”
“We can all cover our own parents-slash-grandparents, naturally.” Claire said, but then she immediately cringed at her own words and looked at Jim, “Oh, but that might be a little harder with James, I guess…”
“Eh… My dad’s an idiot, and none of us trust him as is, I don’t think. I’d rather not tell him, in case he risks blabbing about it in front of the wrong people.”
His friends nodded in agreement. “We’d better clear that with everyone else too, then.” Claire added. “Just to be safe.”
“What about Angor?”
Jim and Claire looked at Toby, confused.
“What about him?” Jim asked.
Oh, geez… How to word this without coming off the wrong way...
“Well… y’know, I do trust him, but I don’t trust Morgana.” Toby clarified. He felt like he was just juicing his same reasoning from long before. “There’s still a piece of Her soul in there, remember! We don’t know if She can see outta him or not, or-or if there’s some other weird stuff She can do, or-”
“Tobes.” Jim had walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve been really on edge about Her, and I mean, I don’t blame you at all. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to start being that suspicious of each other…”
Toby bit his tongue. He looked from Jim, to Claire, who started looking slightly uncomfortable herself, and he realized the implications that could’ve been taken away from what he said.
She had a connection with Morgana too, so does that mean they should stop warning her of possible dangers as well?
“I-I’m sorry, I just…” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just wish we could be a step ahead for once…”
“Trust me, I get it.” Jim reassured him.
Claire eventually spoke up, too. “And, I mean… it’s not like that’s not a valid worry, Morgana’s got to be getting Her information somehow, but even if it was through Angor, we shouldn’t punish him for it.”
Sighing again, Toby nodded in agreement. “So if we tell Angor, we risk tipping off the mask user that we’re onto them, but even that’s not a guarantee.” He reasoned.
“And if we don’t tell Angor, then that puts him at a way higher danger of being tricked himself.” Claire added on.
Jim nodded slowly, taking both of their points into account. “... Well... I think his safety is more important than us having the edge against our mystery person, you know? Like, when it comes down to it, I’d feel way more bad about Angor getting hurt, or something worse, over something we could’ve warned him about rather than if we lost an advantage against an enemy. Besides, we can’t even say for sure whether telling him would alert our enemies or not.” 
Claire couldn’t agree more. “He can take care of himself, but he shouldn’t have to rely on just himself anymore. Friends look out for each other.”
 Despite whatever doubts Toby initially showed at first, that was a point he could never disagree with. He nodded, reconfirming, “All in agreement that we tell him too, then?”
He probably didn’t even need to ask. Claire and Jim were instantly on board with that.
“Okay. Then we’d better start figuring out how to go about this...”
.
~
.
Sometimes, people say or do certain things because… well, it’s how they’ve been conditioned.
Angor had been thinking back on his conversation with Barbara a lot these past few days.
So many things should be considered when you’re trying to understand how someone else is behaving, especially when you’re debating whether to forgive someone or not.
They’d been talking about Strickler.
Anybody can become unfortunate enough to fall into a cycle of abuse…
They’d been talking about Strickler. So why, why did he keep thinking about this with Dictatious in mind, instead?
Angor had been spending a large amount of time watching the Conundrum from afar these past couple days, ever since they’d moved that metal in the Forge. He’s just been behaving so strangely about everything, and it bothered Angor more than he’d like to admit.
Dictatious didn’t deserve his concern at this point. He’d made it clear that he didn’t worry about Angor in the same way, after all.
Worry. Ugh. That’s even worse wording to use…
But he couldn’t really help it. He’s had too much thinking time on his hands lately, and much of it was spent piecing together certain behaviours of Dictatious’s that were starting to add up into... well, something.
And it always seems to stem back from Gunmar, in one way or another. It was every time that Gunmar gets brought up that Dictatious gets especially defensive, after all...
Dictatious is such a strange little troll. Lashes out when people get too personal, then tries to reel them back in as if nothing ever happened? It was not a stable way to hold relationships. But after so many years under Gunmar’s command, how much does he even realize that? He needs to be held accountable for how he acts, obviously. But... Angor couldn’t deny that many of his behaviours nowadays are probably the result of trauma, whether Dictatious would admit that or not. 
Another thing Angor noted from his observations was how... secluded Dictatious was lately. He’s been back to staying in the house day in, day out, with little to no interaction with the others.
This likely wasn’t much different from how he’d lived before Angor got here anyways. Blinky said himself that Angor spent more time around the other Conundrum than even his own brother... and, as far as Angor could tell, nobody else (aside from Nancy) really bothered interacting with Dictatious unless they needed something from him (or, in NotEnrique’s case especially, to get on his nerves).
... Perhaps Angor was being too harsh in ignoring him altogether. 
He decided to put more of an effort into interacting again. 
.
He started out small, of course, only giving quick greetings here or there whenever he ran into Dictatious. It was mostly out of courtesy, partially to test the waters, so to speak.
.
Dictatious didn’t take it that way.
To him, it felt as though he were being toyed with. Tested, maybe, for the assassin to try and push him into letting down his guard. Dictatious would not fall for it.
He kept his guard very much up, tensely awaiting the moment where Angor’s tone would change to something hostile. Until then, Dictatious just nodded along with whatever the other troll said, whatever small talk he tried to make... He refused to let himself be baited into saying something that would set Angor off, so the plan for now was to be as agreeable as possible around him.
All that did was confuse Angor Rot even more, and it was even starting to puzzle whoever’d be nearby at the time. But nobody said anything.
It doesn’t matter. So long as Dictatious can hold off being alone around him, he’d do whatever he can to divert any anger that the assassin’s got headed his way.
.
~
.
Nancy had been getting Dictatious’s help with her cooking, in their spare time.
He’d been spending much more time in the house again, after all, and she knew he was jittery about something. So, it’s been at least a small way to keep his mind off things. And, while he’d never admit it to her face, he enjoyed her company, too.
Today, she was planning on baking apple pie. She had to run to the store for a few missing ingredients, but she had asked Dictatious to peel the apples she’d left on the counter, so they’d be ready for food prep when she got back.
Of course, Dictatious had nothing better to do, so why not?
It was another day in which the Trollhunters had been off running some errand or another. As of late, he’d only noticed Angor Rot staying near to them whenever he was around, so he’d grown (mistakenly) more comfortable in assuming he’d be wherever the kids were, for now.
Still, he couldn’t turn off that flicker of anxiety when he was alone. But he’d gotten better at ignoring it.
He made his way into the kitchen some time after Nancy left for her shopping trip. She said she’d left the peeler in front of the microwave, so he found it rather quickly. The apples, however… “on the counter”, she’d said, but that was still pretty vague, given his lack of eyesight…
Oh, well. He could just feel around until he found them, which is exactly what he started to do.
“They’re to your left.”
The sound of that voice made Dictatious freeze up where he stood. A surge of panic dropped on him like a ton of bricks, but Gods, did he ever try to not let it topple him. Very slowly, without a word, he reached to his left and found the fruit he was looking for. 
Angor had been keeping an eye on him today, as he did most days, recently. But he’d been keeping his distance for the most part, stationing himself in the kitchen to carve even more totems for his growing collection.
At first, he hadn’t paid Dictatious any mind as he’d entered, but now he couldn’t help but notice that the Conundrum’s movements were much more stiff after having heard him speak. Angor noted it as strange... It brought a thin frown to his face, but he stayed quiet about that observation and went back to carving. “You’ve been getting better at navigating your surroundings.” He pointed out. “That’s good to see.”
That almost got Dictatious to shudder, but the Conundrum somehow managed to force that down. He bit his tongue, his ears drooping slightly out of unease, but he still stayed silent and just kept peeling. To him, that comment only confirms that Angor had been watching him far too closely for comfort. Maybe that’s the message Angor was trying to get across, to watch him squirm. 
They were alone. Great Grumbling Gruesome, if now wasn’t a good chance for Angor to attack him, Dictatious didn’t know what was. Biting his tongue, he didn’t say a word.
Angor Rot glanced over to him once again, his frown getting heavier. Dictatious had been acting much stranger than usual, that much Angor had been sure of for a while now. But if something was wrong, would it even be appropriate for him to try and address it at this point? Given Dictatious’s recent apprehensive behaviour towards him? Chances are that he’s already annoyed by Angor’s presence as is, but…
“... Are you alright?”
His confusion turned into surprise when Dictatious slammed his tools back down on the counter, whipped around to face Angor, and snarled at him.
"If you're going to do something to me, for Gronka-Morka’s sake, will you please just get it over with?!" Dictatious snapped loudly. He was borderline trembling in fear, but he started running his mouth regardless of how much he wished he’d shut up and get away from Angor Rot already, why is he still talking-- "This horrible waiting is driving me insane!"
“... Wait... what?” Angor paused, looking up from what he was doing to stare in total puzzlement at Dictatious. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, spare me the act. You have all the opportunity in the world to do away with me, so get on with it, already!” Dictatious hissed, tired of all this. “What’s holding you back?! Afraid the Trollhunters might care about what you do?” Scoffing, he growled again. “Get over yourself, because they won’t.”
Angor Rot had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to respond to that. He was, at first, wide-eyed and speechless. Had he misheard something? Where was this coming from all of a sudden? 
Maybe Dictatious wasn’t speaking fully literally…?
Squinting slightly, he tried to make sure he was understanding correctly. “You are... expecting me to attack you?” He questioned. “Is this about training, or-?”
“Gods, please just stop…!” As much as he hated it, Dictatious couldn’t stop his voice from shaking anymore. All that anxiety he’d been trying to force down was steadily bubbling its way to the surface. He took a step back, though it was more of a stumble than anything. “I don’t know what you want me to do... Just- just get this over with, please- I’m so t-tired of this waiting, I know you’re angry with me, so just get on with whatever you’re planning to do to me!”
For the first (Second? Third? Who knows anymore) time since his second resurrection, Angor Rot found himself at a complete loss for words.
Dictatious was terrified.
He lowered his carving tools slightly. When he found his voice, it was full of only confusion. “Why do you... What makes you think I’m planning something?”
“I’m not an idiot! Why else would you be avoiding me but watching me at the same time?!” Dictatious snapped again, his emotions fluctuating between fear and anger. Like his shaking voice, he couldn’t stop himself from trembling anymore, and he took another step back while his dread rapidly overwhelmed him. His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head, his voice becoming a desperate whimper. “Do you want me to beg, is that it…?! What are you waiting for?! P-Please, please just tell me so I can get this over w-with-” Dictatious had to cut himself off to keep his voice from completely breaking, throwing a hand to his mouth to shut himself up.
Angor Rot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How on Earth did Dictatious come to this conclusion…?
"I... I was only avoiding you because I was tired of being insulted and toyed with..." Angor's brows furrowed further. His voice had started out with annoyance, but that tone had now drifted to something softer, with far more concern than before. "Did you really think I was going to hurt you...?"
Dictatious didn’t answer, but the look on his face said it all. Angor’s jaw clenched. He pocketed his totem and knife, shifting his full attention to the other troll. “Listen to me. I would not endanger you over something so trivial.” He said sternly. “Just because I got frustrated with you, that doesn’t mean I want to bring you harm.”
Those words didn’t seem to be sinking in. Dictatious kept backing away further, the fear he was radiating not getting any weaker.
This was not good. Not at all what Angor had been going for with the distance he’d put between them. And the realization of just how much stress he’d been causing the smaller troll stirred up a strange sensation of discomfort within him. 
Angor Rot started to say something else to try and ease Dictatious’s concerns, but another voice interrupted him from outside the front door.
“Hey, Angor?” Jim called over. “Can we talk to you for a sec?”
“Wait, just--” Angor started to request they wait, but Dictatious took that moment of distraction to rush out of the kitchen. Angor had turned his head back just in time to watch the Conundrum disappearing through the other door, and he felt his jaw clench again in frustration. “... Never mind, then…” He rumbled quietly to himself. 
For a second, he debated following Dictatious. But with the state of mind he’s in right now, doing that might only make matters worse. With a quiet sigh of frustration, Angor Rot followed Jim’s voice outside to see what the Trollhunters wanted.
.
It was a miracle that Dictatious managed to find the bathroom in his panic, even more so that his shaking hands were able to lock the door. He didn’t make it any farther before he caved. 
He found a wall to collapse against, not out of exhaustion, but out of fear. Absurd, nonsensical, unbearable fear.
Despite how hard he tried to catch his breath, his lungs felt paralyzed. Whatever breath he did manage to take came out as nothing more than a shallow gasp for air. He felt the chill that had gone up his spine spread across every inch of him, and it only made his trembling worse. His stomach churned as though he might vomit.
He felt every sensation with such overwhelming intensity. He felt everything at once, but was somehow so, so numb. He wished he could tell himself to calm down. 
But his mind wasn’t listening to him. Not one bit. It raced with thoughts of danger, like an alarm bell going off in his head that he just couldn’t shut off. In this moment, it genuinely felt like he was going to die.
It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re still breathing. So you’re fine. For now.
You’re fine.
Over and over again, he repeated those thoughts. He repeated them until his brain could be tricked into believing it. He was so used to lying that he should be able to do it to himself with ease.
You’re fine.
It’s not like this was a feeling he hasn’t experienced thousands of times over. 
But it’s been so long since the last one this bad.
You’re fine-... I’m fine.
The shallow breaths that had been heaving out of his lungs eventually slowed down. He closed his eyes, and focused on that. 
Just breathing. That’s something even he can’t mess up.
Even if he was having trouble with it just mere moments ago…
I’m fine.
He repeated it to himself once more... Twice more.
Dictatious wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there. Time felt like it wasn’t passing at all, yet it also felt as though he’d been sitting there for hours.
Either way, he shouldn’t let himself be spotted like this.
He felt his face to make sure he hadn’t been crying, and felt a twinge of relief when his hands came back dry.
I’m fine.
One more time for good measure.
Slowly, he managed to muster energy to bring himself back to his feet. Taking one more deep, deep breath, Dictatious forced himself to put this ridiculousness behind him, stopped his hands from shaking just long enough to unlock the door, and once he was sure that Angor Rot was no longer there, he staggered back into the kitchen to continue his task. 
. .
Angor is supposed to be good at recognizing fear. He’d thrived off of causing others fear. It was such an unavoidable part of his old duties, and it was something he’d even come to enjoy getting out of his prey during the hunt. 
But that was before he’d made friends with the Trollhunters. Now he was internally kicking himself as he thought back on all the signs he’d ignored. Of course Dictatious had become scared of him, how did he miss that? How long has this been going on right in front of him?
He’s an assassin. He’s killed thousands. He’s used to people being afraid of him, so one cowardly troll showing fear towards him shouldn’t come as a surprise, nor should it bother him so much.
But it did bother him. It bothered him that this specific troll was now scared of him. It bothered him that he didn’t fully understand why. 
And it especially bothered him that he didn’t know what could be done about it.
“Angor.”
Jim’s voice caught him back into the conversation at hand. 
“We really need your attention here, okay?” The Trollhunter said. “This is kiiinda very important.”
“And seriously, are you feeling okay? I mean it.” Claire asked in addition. “You’ve been majorly spacey for a while now.”
He’s not usually like this, it’s true. And Angor wasn’t dense - he could see that the children were getting tired of him brushing everything off as nothing. They’re a unit based off of supporting one another, after all. 
“... I’m sorry. I have been distracted, yes.” He admitted to them. Angor glanced back at the house for one quick moment, but didn’t break eye contact for long. “But it is something I need to deal with alone for right now.”
The group of teens looked collectively unsure about that. But, to give him credit, at least he was being slightly more open about something being off...
“Okay…” Claire hesitantly replied. She kept an especially worried eye on him. “Just remember that you can talk to us, if you need to.”
“I know.” Angor said with an air of certainty. It was getting hard to doubt their incessant desires to be helpful all the time. “You said you had something important to discuss?”
“Yeah.” Antsy to get back on track, Jim pulled up the picture of a Glamour Mask on his phone, showing it to Angor. “You know what these are, right?”
The assassin eyed the picture closely, eventually nodding. “Yes, I think so... They change the wearer’s appearance, do they not?”
Toby nodded. “Yup. And we got a mega problem, because one of Nomura’s is missing.”
Angor’s brows furrowed. “Oh…”
They weren’t about to accuse him for this, were they…? Not that he would blame them, after that mistake he made with Strickler’s Parlok Spear, but... 
“Yeah, it’s a mess…” Jim sighed, matching the bothered tone. “We’re just trying to let everyone know, and figure out what to do about it.”
Ah. Just a general warning. That’s relieving.  
“We’re still working out what kind of security measures to take, but we’re kind of leaning towards some way to, like… check people’s faces, I guess?” Jim went on. He saw the flicker of discomfort that crossed Angor’s face at that, and he was quick to add, “But, uh, we know it’d feel kind of invasive to have other people do that to each other all the time, so we’re thinking maybe something like…” He brought his hand to his own face, pushing along where he estimated a Glamour Mask could be pulled off. “Maybe a quick signal like that we could give each other, to show we’re not wearing a mask?”
“We’re thinking we’ll probably borrow one of Strickler’s or Nomura’s to test how easy it is to push one off like that.” Claire also mentioned. “Still figuring stuff out.”
“They’re not super hard to take off, so I think it’ll work out.” Toby knew from experience.
Angor Rot slowly nodded along as they spoke, with a slight frown still on his face. “And you don’t think that gesture will tip any spies off?”
“Eh... it might look kinda weird, yeah.” Jim admitted. “But we could brush it off like scratching an itch?”
“We’re all gonna have itches on our jawbones at the same time?” Toby snickered a bit.
Claire chuckled as well. “I mean, whatever way this goes, it’s going to look weird. But we don’t have a lot of options, here.”
It no longer came as a surprise how they’d manage to find mild humour in stressful situations. In a way, Angor had come to respect that quality about them.
Honestly, he wished he could be more concerned about the situation at hand, more helpful in some way. But he was still very distracted.
Angor glanced back at the house he had just exited, wondering how in the Darklands to deal with that mess he’d left behind.
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