(Angor Rot x Trollhunter!Reader)

Angor held the Creeper's sun poison blade at your throat.

"Take my life and she wins," You cough through his choking grip ", Take my life and you become your worst enemy."

Angor didn't reply to you, his golden eyes ran over your armored body. The skull-shaped tattoo that outlined the right side of your stone face glowed its faint gold. Daylight wasn't going to save you this time.

"You will be bested, Angor," You hiss under your breath ", If not by me, then a future Trollhunter."

If you'd have known that you'd fall for the killer of Trollhunters' then you would have never taken the Amulet, you would have kicked it away and waiting for it to call someone new. You hiss and slam your head back into his, causing the grip on the sun poison blade to falter.

You wanted to exclaim with the pride that you just outsmarted an assassin.

"I will not be bested," Angor growls at you ", it's been centuries, centuries of hunters, of kills and I have never been bested. I won't let a lover best me next!"

"Is that what you call us, Angor?" You call out and spin away from the knife he throws at you ", 'Lovers' is what we are?"

"What we were," Angor hisses at you with his bright gold eyes ", WE are enemies."

You spin Daylight in your hand, trying to focus on whatever he saw staring at. You could never tell what he was thinking, now was no different. You couldn't kill him, god no. that was going to be impossible for you.

But you couldn't spare him, sparing him would mean death.

You can't die, you have good Trolls to protect, to defend.

You swing Daylight over your head and release it was it arks towards the hollowed troll. You watch as the blade slammed into his hand, pinning him to the walls of the cave you fought in. You grinned, the blade was hilt deep in his hand.

"Give up Angor," You commanded ", It's over."

Angor looks up at you, his teeth born and sharp with rage.

"It isn't over until you are dead," He snarls at you ", It will never be over."

You take a step closer and strike his face with your face, you strike again and again until his head rolls to the side. His gold eyes, half-closed. You would risk leaving him there to rot as his name implied. Daylight would disappear as soon as you took the armor off, so you wanted to get as far away as possible.

You turned away ", See? I told you that I would best you."

Angor doesn't reply, he just closes his eyes as if he is resting.

You dash away into the night if you were lucky the sun would take care of him so you didn't have too. You wanted to summon Daylight right now but fought the urge off with the little remaining strength you had. You felt the sun stinging your back as you leaped into the nearest cave, you hissed with pain.

The sun was bright in the early morning, you would have enjoyed it if you hadn't been tailored to the darkness. You saw the smoking figure before you smelt it, you figured Angor would have been turned to stone but when the Creeper's Sun blade sunk in between the breastplates of your armor. It was unexpected, yes. At the same time, you had felt it coming. Death was a strange feeling. It was like being covered in a very heavy sand during a storm.

You hadn't expected the stone to cover you so slowly.

"I'm sorry we had to end like this," Angor says with a sadistic smile ", I truly am, but I have to kill you. It's what I have to do."

You grimace and nearly fall, but your legs had already turned to the stone-cold of death.

"You cannot," You caught and with the last breath you ever hold in you ", You cannot blame ME for YOUR sins, Angor Rot."

And with that, you died.

. . .

Angor spins the blade on the end of his finger. 

"You cannot blame ME for YOUR sins, Angor Rot."

(Y/n) had spat those words at him. Sure, he felt a little fuller than he had with the death of the hunter before her, but that's because she was different. She was his lover before she had to be the enemy. 

Angor scoffed, Lover, what a surprise. 

He never expected to feel anything for anyone without his own soul, but with her's still bubbling around inside of him? He felt the slightest bit of hate for himself.