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This is a compilation of imagines/one-shots about characters from Trollhunters and you as the reader. There's not too much more to it than that! I had started this whole thing a whilst back when there was little to none 𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘙...
A/n: Okay, I'm not really sure about this one because it's not super Angor/Reader. But I really wanted to write something with Angor and this is what happened, so I just rolled with it. There is hints at past Draal/Reader so... yeah!
I hope all you lovelies enjoy! Requests are open still, of course :)
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"You're afraid to meet someone 'Cause you've been burned, you've been burned, you've been burned Love is good until it's gone That's what you learned, what you've learned, what you've learned."
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He didn't know what he could do. Every idea that came into his mind seemed pointless to even attempt. There was not a thing he could come up with without turning a corner and hitting a wall.
This was an issue he didn't know how to handle. It was a first for him. And as of late, there had been many situations of this - many 'first time' things happening. It was completely and utterly abnormal. These wasn't supposed to be anything that could catch him off guard anymore. He had been through and seen so much in a single lifetime - and a second lifetime - that there shouldn't be surprises. And yet, there was.
You.
Everything about you and everything concerning you had caught him off guard and surprised him on a day-to-day basis. You were so different from him... So much better than he was and ever could be.
He didn't understand his own fascination. All he knew was that the moment your fist connected with his jaw, he was drawn to you. He had questions, and he wanted answers; however, he couldn't exactly gain said answers then. Now, though, he could ask all he wanted and you would answer.
The questions he had were never asked. He simply didn't know how to ask you anything.
Why was this such an obstacle to overcome? Why did you have to be some great puzzle he ever so wanted to solve? As though his last breath, his life, had depended on it?
Maybe it was because you didn't quite fit in with the trollhunter and his friends. Maybe it was because you wore your h/c hair differently every now and then. Maybe it was the clothes you decided to wear. The food you decided to eat. The books you read. Perhaps it was the way your hand twitched and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth whenever the trollhunter said something brash.
