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cartoon-lovers-world · 13 days

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Hiya! Have chapter one of my Found family Kismet fanfic!

This takes place after the escape, to clear things up

Enjoy!

That boy is odd

Branch trekked through the forest, searching for more food in case he had to stay in his semi-bunker for the rest of the week. He didn't mind his new life, as long as it kept him safe. He would wake up, search for food and water, collect wood, then go back to complete building his hideout Bergen-proof, survival bunker. Though he would mostly fall asleep on the incomplete pile of dirt

Not his usual smile painting his face, but a dark, emotionless expression plastered on the gray skin.

His face, once lively and animated, now pale and sweat-drenched from working day and night. His entire body, for that matter, was getting thin and weak from the lack of proper nourishment, and the gray look wasn't helping cover it up.

He stumbled upon another stick. Thin, he thought. But he didn't have a choice. Winter was at the doors, and he still needed to find more provisions and secure his shelter if he wanted to survive. He picked it up and placed it in his lap with the others.

He was doing great in surviving so far. Everything was good.

He was fine.

He totally loved himself.

Himself.

He stopped in his tracks, repeating the word. The one who pushed his brothers away.

And the same one who made his grandma meet her fate, leaving him grieving for the life cut short. It was his fault. He ruined everything.

He hated himself. Every part of it.

But he couldn't dwell on the past now. He wasn't allowed to. He had to survive and build his bunker, he had to wait for his brothers– they could be dead, too.

Why hasn't he thought of that?

Chills ran down his spines at the thought, hands unconsciously reaching out to hug himself. The wood was still in his grip, scratching at his skin as the tips of his fingers marked on his arms, but he didn't seem to notice. Crimson red mixed with the colorless sweat as the wood dug its way deeper into his body, doing so little to numb the pain haunting him since that day.

Or even snap him out of his trance-like state.

He longed for someone to sing him to sleep, any sweet melody to softly rock him as he sat in his bed.

But even he cringed at his own voice.

It cracked and hoarsened even when he was simply talking, no longer the angelic one his grandma used to say he had.

He sobbed. It racked his entire being, and his eyes were wide with terror. He wanted to go home, to hide under the makeshift, temporary shelter. So why couldn't he move?

"Are you okay?"

Branch blinked, frantically checking his face. It was dry. He wasn't crying, not yet, and that's when he noticed the blood trickling down his arms.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?"

Branch shook his head, looking up to see the source of the voice. A total contrast of him.

There stood a troll, the usual smile that painted his kind's face filled with concern as he looked at the boy in front of him. He was blue, glittering. He was one of those glitter trolls, Branch figured. They always hurt his eyes when he looked at them. The dull troll eyed the other for a few seconds, a bit mesmerized by the colorful aura he emitted. He was once like that.

"I'm fine," he finally answered.

"You're bleeding," the blue troll insisted, ignoring the orange one pulling at his sleeve.

"I'm fine, thanks," Branch repeated and turned away to leave, the whispers he assumed were about him fading into the background as he disappeared through the forest.

The glitter troll frowned, offering a small goodbye wave before looking at the younger. "Trickee, what's wrong with you?! He probably felt offended!"

"Hype, they say it's contagious!" another yellow, glitter like his friend, troll chimed.

"You really think being gray is contagious, Boom?"

Trickee crossed his arms confidently. "Enlighten us, Mr. Ablaze."

Hype sighed. "It happens when a troll loses the happiness inside of him. It's not contagious, dummies."

"So he's, like, emo?"

Ablaze rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his smile. "Yes, 'Rick, he's emo."

"Cool-"

"Actually, that means he went through a lot." Hype's gaze shifted to the direction where the mysterious troll had faded, an unsettling sensation rising in his chest. The image of the troll's terrified face kept repeating itself inside his head. "That's not right…"

—------------

Hype sat at his desk, cheek pressed against one hand and the other sitting in front of him, drawing random shapes onto the lyrics he was working on. He's heard about that troll before, how he has, in the span of twenty four hours, transformed to the dull, gray troll everyone was now familiar with. But he never thought he would actually interact with him, or semi-interact. It was mostly him talking.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and staring into the ceiling.

Rumors.

Rumors spread like dandelions in a windy field about that troll.

Sad, some people said. Crazy, others assumed. Bad luck, also on the list. And you can never tell for sure. Huge, scary titles were given to such a small, fragile creature. Yet it seemed no one had enough courage to state any of them. Gray, was the color Trolls feared the most, after Bergens. It was never a good sign for a troll to turn gray. Even worse when the troll in mention was a child, expected to shine with colors like no other.

But he didn't. He was dull, devoid of any signs of happiness, and, to logically justify it, the tribe had laid hands on the 'contagious' theory, their carefree minds refusing to believe that the world wasn't all cupcakes and rainbows - as he heard him say under his breath before he left.

A knock was what dragged Hype out of his head, and the person didn't even wait for a 'come in' before barging in the room.

"Dinner's ready." The blue troll turned to see the second in command leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, thanks, 'Blaze," he mumbled, forcing a smile in return. The other's faded.

"What's on your mind?"

"Is it that obvious?"

His brother nodded. "At least to me, brother."

A sigh. "You don't think he's contagious, do you…?"

"Well, he is young… younger than Boom and Trickee, even." Ablaze paused. "It's just weird, I guess."

Hype looked deep in thought. "What if he went through a tough time? Lost his family, maybe?"

"We all lost our families, Hype," his brother said. It came out darker than he had anticipated. "Maybe he just didn't deal well with it."

"Maybe…"

#Trolls #Branch #Hype #Ablaze #Boom #Trickee #Kismet #Found family Kismet fic #Trolls fanfiction

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cartoon-lovers-world · 13 days

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They exchanged like... Five lines of dialogue but that's enough for me

I'm sorry the tension between these two would be UNREAL. They watched the other sing and dance for half a minute and both mentally decided, "Yep that's it that's them THATS the one I want."

Tresillo and Wani definitely get together to dance and practice learning each other's music, often inviting Branch (whom I think becomes good friends with both groups after WT)

Tho Branch often makes excuses not to go because he just sits there and third wheels while they both flirt with one another and he can't take it anymore for fucks sake either kiss each other or STOP TALKING-

#LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

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cartoon-lovers-world · 25 days

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You are a gift to this world and that will always be true. Have a good day!

You too! Everyone is! Thank you!

Have a marvelous day too!

#Ask #Ask reply

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cartoon-lovers-world · 25 days

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Boys with abandonment issues who are afraid their loved ones will eventually leave them

#Luca #Alberto Scorfano #Trolls #Branch #Kiddos with abandonment issues #Wow that sounded nice

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cartoon-lovers-world · 28 days

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Realizing that Branch was just a child who was scared and grieving…

And Nobody helped him

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cartoon-lovers-world · 29 days

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There it is! Part two of the Feral Branch fic!

Enjoy and tell me if you have any comments!

Branch has lost count of the trees he's let his anger out on so far, fire shooting from his fists and all the way up to his elbows as a result from banging them against the hard wood, and his hair sticking out in different angles after pulling at whatever branches came in his face. He knew this wasn't right - snapping at his brothers, telling them to leave, only for him to run away as well. And now, he was battered and bruised, sprawled out on the grassy, muddy floor. He closed his eyes, the sound of rain hitting the leaves that were shielding him fading into the background, drowned out by the thoughts racing in his head. He tried to focus on the simple shower pouring, desperately seeking any sort of comfort. He could feel the tips of his hair getting wet, but he was too careless to even think about moving it under his makeshift ceiling, not like it would hurt anyway, he'll just think of it as the shower he hasn't had for a week. He probably stinked, so whatever.

He would be lying if he didn't say that this was the least of his worries right now. All he could think of was the tantrum he just threw a few ago, in front of everyone. What did they think of him now? That he was a beast? A monster? He groaned, trying to push these thoughts to the back of his head.

But they always found a way to resurface. He groaned again, a voice that echoed between the trees as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He's always hated thinking about more than one object at once. He tried to stop thinking, or overthinking, in his state, but his mind was seemingly battling him, sucking out every ounce of calm and peace he had managed to feel so far.

He was screaming. Why couldn't he just rest? He needed a break, a break from everything, his brothers, the village, life itself, if that was an option. He was pacing around, just like he's done back there, and his hands clutched at his hair as if he was replaying the scene. Except that this time, he was crying, rain mixing with the tears that were flowing down his cheeks. He wanted to run away, more away, and leave them behind, just like they have done to him. A part of him wanted to make them feel the pain he felt, wanted them to go through what he's gone through.

Yet another part wanted to believe that they have all faced challenges as well, that they all suffered. So why did it hurt him so much?

"Branch…?"

He looked up. It was Poppy.

Oh no, it was Poppy.

He quickly wiped away his tears with the back of his hands. She wouldn't notice anyway–

"Have you been crying?" Wasn't the rain supposed to hide the tracks?

"No…"

"Branch, you don't have to lie." She sat in front of him. "At least not to me, baby."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. And what are all these scars?" His girlfriend's touch was gentle, yet Branch winced the moment her fingers traced the red marks on his arms. Some were fresh, blood still trickling down his arms and palms, and some were old, already starting to heal. Some were intentional.

"We need to go back, you're not okay–"

"Please…" He was begging. He never begged. But for his girlfriend? He was ready to beg her to stay with him if it cost him his life. "Just stay with me. I-I don't wanna see them right now."

The Queen was torn at this point, torn between the urge to lead the others to Branch and the vulnerability in his voice. He looked so small, so hurt and broken. She didn't want to cause him more pain.

"They probably don't want to see me…" Poppy had hardly heard him. His voice was muffled as he curled up and buried his face in his hands. "I don't blame them, though..."

"Branch, I know you're hurting," she whispered, softly stroking his hair. "Talk to me, let me help you."

"I don't know!" the dull troll suddenly yelled, causing his girlfriend to flinch. "They hurt me so much! So much, Poppy!"

"I know–"

"I'm tired! Every time I think everything is fine, something comes up! I didn't want them to come, they reopened wounds I've been trying to close for so long! And they're expecting me to be okay! I'm not okay!"

All Poppy could do was listen as her boyfriend poured his heart out. He sounded as if he'd been bottling up his emotions for so long, the way he was crying and stumbling over his words, face scrunched up and arms aimlessly flailing around as he desperately tried to communicate his feelings. But she didn't dare interrupt him, not even to help him explain. He had to talk, he needed to, by himself, and if it meant she had to listen to his incoherent speech, so be it.

"I just want– I don't know!" He went on, the words unconsciously flowing out of his mouth without even making any sense, even to him. He couldn't take it anymore.

"I hate them–"

"You don't," she blurted out, and immediately felt her boyfriend's glare on her. "You don't hate them."

Of course he did. They hurt him, they left and never came back. Even Floyd. And a thought was telling him he wouldn't be in this position right now if it weren't for his brother getting kidnapped. The dull troll closed his eyes. They wouldn't have made the tiniest bit of effort in checking on him, so why can't he hate them? John? John thought he was dead, and Branch tried to force himself that his brother shed at least a tear over him.

But he didn't know, and it only made him more confused and angry.

"I know what it feels like…" His girlfriend smiled sadly, unaware that her voice cut through the mess in his head just in time. "Someone you love hurting you…"

He perked up. Had he accidentally hurt her?

"I-I'm-I-"

"Not you, Branch," she assured him. "Dad…"

It made sense, Branch thought, slightly calming down. At least it wasn't about him anymore.

"He kept my own sister a secret from me, because of his own fear, and… I was the one who suffered the consequences…" She paused. "Do you even know how many things me and Veevs could've done by now, if only I went out there and looked for her earlier? We could've done a million things, Branch, so many things that I fear we don't have much time to do it all now."

He smiled. It was never enough time for Poppy.

"And the whole Trolls tribes thing… we could've united everyone before the Rock Apocalypse thing ever happened… but he kept it from me…" She frowned. "He kept a lot of secrets from me, secrets that could've changed my life, and I was super mad at him for that…"

It seems like he wasn't the only one who needed to be real in this relationship. How long has she been feeling this way?

She waited, and, seeing no reaction, the girl continued. "Sometimes I even fear he might be hiding something else, you know?" She chuckled. "He hurt me, so much… but I never hated him. I could never hate him."

Her father was there, his brothers weren't.

"Because he loves me." Her face slowly lit up, making her boyfriend's do so as well, even if it was barely visible. "I see it in the way he tries to make it up to me every day, and I know that he cares." She reached out, gently taking his dull, cold hands into her bright, warm ones and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "So believe me when I tell you that I know how it feels."

He sighed. "I just feel so lost and confused, you know?"

"I know, love."

He closed his eyes again, his head leaning against the tree behind him. "I don't hate them, I'm just mad…" His head hung low. "They're probably mad, too, and I don't blame them…"

"Stop right there, mister," the pink troll interrupted firmly, "Whoever told you they're mad?"

"Well, I did attack them." He shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if they don't want to see me."

"Branchifer." She cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him, he was getting warm. "Your brothers have been miserable." She dramatically extended the last word, her fingers stroking his cheeks in an affectionate gesture. "You don't know what they've been through since last week."

"Are… are they okay?"

She smirked. "Worried about them?"

He giggled and swatted her hands away. "Just answer."

"Well, John hasn't been sleeping, Bruce is constantly angry, Clay hasn't read a single book since then, which is, sooo not Clay, and Floyd, well-"

He sat straight. "Is he okay?!"

"I told you, you care about them!"

"Poppy!"

She laughed, her hair tips getting exposed to the rain. "Alright, alright." She composed herself, wiping away the few droplets that had slid down her forehead. "Seriously, though, he's been crying non-stop for days."

"So they're… not mad?"

"Not in the slightest." A beat. "They're mad at themselves."

"They are?" Huh, maybe they did care after all.

"Yeah." She stayed silent for a few seconds, giving her words a chance to sink in. "They've been looking for you since the forest went silent."

Went silent? Then he remembered that he had been lying in this spot for days, and the forest's been silent since then, devoid from his screams and tantrums.

"They're probably waiting inside Rhonda right now," Poppy said with a smile, "Wanna let them know you're okay?"

Maybe that wasn't the best idea. Branch was hiding his face behind his hands again.

"It's okay," Poppy quickly said, "It's okay not to be okay."

He looked at her, and for a second, she swore she saw the broken child he was years ago. "I need more time…"

"It's okay," she assured him.

His head leaned against the shoulder of his girlfriend, seeking comfort only she could provide. He felt better. Poppy always made him feel better.

She suddenly got up, making the head resting on her shoulder almost make contact with the grass. "Get up," she ordered, "You can stay at my place till you're feeling better."

His lips contracted in a hesitant pout. "We'll cuddle?" He asked hopefully.

"We'll cuddle all night."

#Trolls #Trolls fanfiction #Branch #Poppy #Trolls band together #Fanfic

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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Please reblog this post if you belong to the whump community.

Let's see how many reblogs this gets!

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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Encanto girlies iconsssss!

#Encanto #Isabela Madrigal #Dolores Madrigal #Luisa Madrigal #Mirabel Madrigal #Encanto icons #Edit #Feel free to use #Just give credits please

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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Enjoy a sneak peak for my next work. This takes place after my feral Branch fic, because I wanted to give my baby more problems

#Trolls #Poppy #Branch #Trolls fanfiction #Sneak peak #Fanfiction #Stay tuned everyone

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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Hiya! Have a Branch sick fic featuring Brozone AND Kismet cause I'm bored

Enjoy!

Btw, tell me if you have any comments, I gladly accept and welcome criticism

The battling brothers

Branch may be sick, but he knew darn well the competition going on between his eight, biological and adoptive, older brothers.

He knew both groups loved him, he loved them too. Both of them. But now, as he lay sick and weak in his bed, he was starting to question whether it was a good idea to let Kismet know he was sick. It was Poppy's idea in the first place, something about all of them bonding or whatever.

"Can I have some water, please?"

"Sure, baby brother." John and Ablaze glared at each other.

"He was talking to me," the cyan troll hissed.

"As if," the other muttered. "He was clearly asking me."

Branch groaned, bracing himself for another round of bickering. "Not again…"

But his voice was drowned out by his brothers' as an argument broke out between them, again, each taking a side and spitting at the other. This wasn't the first time this has happened, and Branch was used to it by now, though it still triggered a minor panic attack whenever it did. He just wanted everyone to get along, was that too much to ask? Maybe. He was getting tired of having to cancel a hangout with a band just to make it up to the other, he was tired of the constant fighting, which often ended with them forgetting his needs.

He. Was. Sick.

"He's my baby brother!"

"He's our baby brother, actually!"

He tried to diffuse the tension. "I love both of you-"

"Stay out of this, Branch," Hype shot, willingly ignoring how stern it came out.

Floyd eyed him. "Hey! Don't talk to my brother like that!"

"Yeah, dude, he's sick," Clay stood by his brother.

"And now you suddenly care?!" Branch winced. This wasn't going to end well.

"Of course we care!"

"Twenty years too late!"

Twenty years too late. Branch had been trying to forget about that. Why did they have to reopen his wounds when he had finally almost stitched them. Don't talk like that, he forced himself. They didn't mean it, they would never hurt him. In and out through your nose, he thought, just like we practiced. But he could feel the harsh words spreading through the room, words of accusations going back and forth between the two groups, Kismet usually throwing them first.

"We were young and foolish, alright? Is that what you want to hear?"

"We want you out of-"

"Enough!"

Silence arrived just in time. No one should know what the next words were.

The purple troll glared at Hype, giving him a warning glare before turning to the youngest. "Branch, you have to choose."

Branch's eyes widened. "What do you mean-?"

"You know what I mean, Branch."

"None of us can keep going on like this," the leader of the blood brothers chimed. "It's either us, or them."

Trickee smirked. "That won't be so hard, right, baby bro?"

But his adopted brother stayed silent, eyes darting between his and the others' set.

"Branch?" He smiled nervously, reaching out to hold Branch's hand. But Hype put a hand in front of him.

"I see how it is."

The sick troll pushed himself up, blinking as the room spun around him for a second. "Wait, no-"

"You really choose them over us?"

"That's not– please-"

"Come on, guys. Let's get outta here." A beat. "But don't come crying to us if they leave you again." And with that, the room was filled with heavy silence as Hype and his group walked out, leaving Brozone to try and keep Branch in bed.

"B, they'll be back in five minutes." Bruce scoffed. "They're just making a scene."

Branch wasn't even listening, not making a single attempt in resistance as his brothers finally tucked him in his bed.

"Now, we'll stay with you tonight-"

"I wanna be alone…" It was his turn to interrupt.

"What? We're not leaving you-"

"Please…" he begged, swallowing hard as he tried to think of what to do next, and a thought, one he had been trying to bury, was telling him he shouldn't have gotten so attached. It was his fault.

He knew this was going to happen sooner or later, the way the two groups never stayed near each other, with John, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd sleeping in Rhonda, and Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee sleeping in his room, each wrapped in his sleeping bag till the next morning. And the cycle had been repeating itself - he would ask for something, a member of each group would fight over who would get it for him, and by the time they were done, he would already be fast asleep. But this time, it had taken an unexpected turn, one he wasn't prepared for.

Which was the main reason he was now making his way to the kitchen in the middle of the night. He needed to get his mind off things, and maybe he was a bit hungry. His brothers? Absolutely not. They'll rub it in the other group's faces in the morning, and Branch wasn't in the best state to intervene this time.

He stumbled out of bed, almost falling face first onto Boom– Boom wasn't there. Hallucinating as well, add that to the list. Deep breaths. One foot in front of the other. How hard can this be? The sick troll mumbled under his breath, not sure whether he was assuring himself or trying to follow the rules to keep his balance, but either way, he was in the kitchen– he was in the kitchen? He must be more tired than he thought, but definitely not more than how hungry he felt.

But he did it. He was in the kitchen, and he didn't even know when he had put the water to boil, nor when he had prepared it in the first place, but he did it.

He did it.

That was a bad idea.

Very bad idea.

Branch was now clutching the kitchen counter, feeling as if he might collapse if he let go for a single second. He tried to look for something, anything, to lie down on, but much to his liking, there wasn't. Or maybe he was too disoriented to notice any.

Think. But he couldn't. He felt as if Branch.exe had stopped working, and he desperately tried to make sense of what was happening. Wasn't this a simple fever? He's dealt with those before, when he was alone, and this has never– okay, maybe it did happen a few times, but he had always pulled through.

Which was what he was going to do now.

Think. What do you do when you feel on the verge of passing out? Lie down. He just had to lie down till this spell passed. Lie down, slow and steady to the floor– a thud. At least he was now in a safe position, yeah. He'll just lean his head against the wall and wait.

His eyes snapped open briefly as pain shot through his skull. It wasn't supposed to hit it that hard, but it'll pass. The pain will pass.

He just had to breathe. In and out. Nice and slow through his nose. Why wasn't his body working properly? Why today, when he was by himself?

But it's okay. He'll keep his eyes open. He had to keep his eyes open. No one, and he means no one, is allowed to see him like this, not Poppy, not anyone, and definitely not his brothers - adoptive or blood.

He'll tough it out, just like he always does.

Safe position? Check. Breathing steady? He'll come to this one later. Eyes open? Definitely not check.

But he'll be okay. He'll be okay. He just had to hold on, hold on till whatever was happening passed. He'll just open his eyes– okay, that was a bad idea. The room was spinning harder, but he'll manage on his own. He's done it before, and he could do it again. Close your eyes. Open your eyes. He didn't know what to do, didn't know which rule to follow this time.

He can't do this on his own. He needed his brothers. All of them.

"Guys…" Was the last thing that left his lips before his consciousness slipped away, leaving his limp body lying slumped on the kitchen floor.

—------------

"Branch? Wake up."

"Wake up, baby brother."

"Call the others, quick."

Was all he managed to hear before he let go again.

Then someone was slapping his face.

"Branch! Branch, wake up!" A somewhat urgent voice reached his ears, a voice that, for whatever reason, made him open his eyes, albeit groggily. And sure enough, eight figures were hovering above him.

"You with me?" It was John, his hands cupping his youngest brother's face and searching for any signs of distress.

Branch nodded.

"You okay?"

He didn't know. Darkness was clouding his vision.

"Branch, focus!" He felt a sting against his cheeks from where John was trying to fully awaken him.

He let out a faint groan, sluggishly swatting at the eldest's hand.

"What happened? Can you tell us?" This was Floyd, his voice filled with concern and forced calmness.

"I was… making some soup… then everything started spinning…" he stammered, "I-I don't want to choose, Hype…"

Said troll shook his head. "It's okay, it's okay, you don't have to–"

"I love everyone–"

Boom bit his lip. "Branch, please calm down, you're stressing yourself out."

But the tears were already welling up. He wasn't in the right state of mind, they figured.

Kismet members exchanged uneasy glances. "It's our fault, just please, calm down."

"I don't want anyone to leave… not again…"

Ablaze placed a hand on Branch's forehead, feeling the heat radiating off of his brother. He looked at the others and silently shook his head.

"Branch, no one is leaving, alright?" Hype tried. "But you're making yourself sick, you have to calm down, yeah?"

Branch nodded.

"Can you stand?" Clay was already helping the glittery troll lift Branch to his feet.

Branch struggled along, even as his legs wobbled beneath him and he had to rely on his brothers to get him back to his bed. Great, they thought sarcastically. They were doing more harm than good.

"I-I–"

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," Floyd cooed. "Just calm down."

"Nice and slow, through your nose," the blue troll instructed, noticing how Branch's breathing became shallower with each step.

Trickee sighed. "You shouldn't have overdone it like this."

The heartthrob nodded. "Yeah, Branch."

However, Boom was more concerned about the almost-full medication on the bedside table. "Have you been taking your medicine?"

"No one gave me water…" It came out more vulnerable than he had anticipated.

"No one did…?"

The sick troll looked up, tear-filled eyes scanning his brothers before pulling the covers over his face. "No." That said, he turned around and closed his eyes, already drifting off to a restless sleep.

—-----------

When Branch woke up the next morning, he was met with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Coffee. He smiled slightly, he missed that. He let out a content sigh as he made his way to the kitchen, ready to be met with scolding from Kismet, and another later from Brozone.

But the scene in front of him? That was something even him was not expecting.

They were here. All of them. Well, of course they were, after what happened yesterday, but that wasn't the case, they were together, in one room. He rubbed his eyes then looked again. This was real.

"Morning, B," Floyd greeted softly, handing Hype a cup of coffee and sitting beside him, mindful of his own.

"Morning…"

"What are you doing out of bed, young man?" Branch really had to remember this was his brother talking to him and not his grandma.

"I-I was-"

"Back to bed." the purple-haired troll interrupted, "We'll bring you your breakfast."

Branch just nodded silently, slowly making his way back to his bed the kitchen. We?

They were talking. They were chatting, even, all together. They didn't fight over who would bring him breakfast, which was highly noticeable given the events of the last few days. But the dull troll didn't care about that now, and his lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. They were together.

And for once, reality seemed to be better than his imagination.

#Trolls #Trolls band together #John Dory #Bruce #Clay #Floyd #Branch #Brozone #Kismet #Hype #Ablaze #Boom #Trickee #Fanfiction #Trolls fic #Sickfic

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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More icons

#Trolls #Trolls world tour #Trolls band together #Branch #Poppy #Icons #Trolls edit

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cartoon-lovers-world · 1 month

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Diane icons, anyone?

#The bad guys #Diane Foxington #The bad guys edit #Diane icons #Icons #SHES A GIRL BOSSSS #God i love her

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cartoon-lovers-world · 2 months

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Thanks for @blorbopostingtime for this idea!

FERAL BRANCH!

LET OUR BOY UNLEASH HIS INNER MONSTERS!

Anyway, I suck at writing angst so you can TOTALLY feel free to add or say anything about this. I accept and appreciate criticism

Enjoyyy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, an apology isn't going to fix everything…" Branch muttered, taking a step back.

"We know, but-"

"But what?" the youngest stammered, anger slowly replacing his initial fear. "But what?!"

"Branch, calm down-"

"Calm down? Calm down?!" he yelled, not caring if it was Floyd he had interrupted this time. "Do you even have any idea what I've been through?!"

Clay took a deep breath, trying to speak in a gentler tone than his brothers, if that was even possible. "We know we messed up, but we're here now, and we want to make things better."

Branch scoffed. "Now? Now when what? Now when I've managed to battle my own demons? Now when I've found happiness? When I've moved on from Grandma's death? Where were you during all that?"

They froze, racking their brains for a logical justification.

But there was none.

Seeing no response, he went on. "Where were you when I was having a panic attack every single day, blaming myself for Grandma's death?! Where were you, when I was living alone in the wilderness, huh?!" He stomped his foot in frustration, his hands unknowingly clenching and unclenching in fists. "Do you even know what it feels like to be rejected by your OWN people, just because you're different, because you're sad?! Instead of them actually helping you?!"

Poppy hesitated, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to move towards her boyfriend, to hug him, to comfort him, but something inside her screamed at her to stop. He needed this moment to let it out, and they needed to hear it.

He glared at them with tears in his eyes, feeling a surge of resentment and betrayal. "You abandoned me! You left me alone and I was only a freaking five-year old baby! And now you come back, acting like nothing happened, like you care about me?!" he shouted.

"Branch, we're sorry, we're so sorry-" Clay said, his voice cracking.

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it!" Branch snapped. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you? How many days have I woke up hoping against hope that you were back?!"

They took a step back, unsure of what to do or say, if there was even something to be said. They messed up, big time.

Floyd's eyes were starting to water, and he managed to mutter, "Branch, we don't want forgiveness, we just want to talk about it-" before his brother stopped him with his sarcastic tone.

"Oh, that's so great, let's talk about why we abandoned our baby brother and never came back, even though we promised, didn't we, Floyd?" he spat. "Was I even on your mind? Because if I was, I'm sure this whole talk wouldn't be happening right now!"

"That's not true, Branch, that's not true!" Floyd protested. "We love you, we've always loved you!"

"Then why did you leave me?" Branch asked, his voice breaking. "Why did you leave me when we could've talked it out? When we could've been a family?!"

They lowered their heads, unable to answer. They had their reasons, but they knew they were not good enough. They had made a mistake, a terrible mistake. And now, it was their turn to handle its consequences.

"Branch, please, listen to us-" Floyd tried again, reaching out his hand.

However, his brother flinched and slapped his hand away, shaking his head. "Don't touch me!"

"Alright, no touching, no touching!" the red-haired troll retreated, holding his hands up. "Just listen to us, please."

"Alright." Branch took a deep breath, letting it out as a frustrated sigh as he pretended to zip his lips. He gave them a sarcastic smile, silently allowing them to stand up for themselves.

Bruce began, seeing no attempt from the others. "We messed up, okay? We know we did. But we love you, we love you so much."

"Yeah, bro, and nothing will change that," John added, his voice shaking slightly as he expected another interruption. But to his surprise, their youngest brother stayed silent.

"We just want a second chance," Floyd chimed, "And we promise, this time, we'll do better."

But Branch had stopped listening long ago. What was the point? He'll trust them, get attached, then bam, they'll leave again. Same old story. Even Floyd, the one who's never broken a promise in his life, broke one promise - his and Branch's promise, and Branch didn't know if he'll ever be able to forget this one.

Everything hurt. His head hurt, his chest tightened, and his limbs were starting to shake. He closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together, but the dull troll was greeted with the room swirling around him in a dizzying manner as soon as he opened his eyes, and his brothers' intertwined voices weren't helping, if anything, they were adding to his headache. He put a hand on his forehead, desperately trying to regain his balance, but the more anyone talked, the more the room swirled. All he wanted was some quiet.

Which was the opposite of what he got when he collapsed to his knees in a heap.

"Branch! Are you okay?"

His girlfriend, as always, he thought, was the first to be by his side, and he felt her hand gently lifting his chin, locking their gazes.

"You okay?"

He nodded, deciding it'd be better if he didn't try to get up in his current state.

"Do you want water, anything?"

He shook his head, and instantly regretted the small gesture as the dizziness that was starting to subside persisted.

"Sure?" He felt her hand squeezing his, as if trying to convey as little reassurance as she could provide at the moment.

He blinked, just now realizing that his brothers were surrounding him, each putting a hand on either his shoulders or back. He took a deep breath, finally managing to his voice, and without thinking, he choked a weak, "Leave…"

"But-"

"Leave!" Branch yelled. He stood up abruptly, and quickly reached out for the nearest piece of furniture to steady himself. Great, now the room was spinning again.

"Branch, you're not okay, at least lie down-"

Branch cut off the pink troll, softer than he did with his brothers as he slurred, "Fine… fine…" His head was pounding, but he didn't care. He turned to the remaining audience with a feeble wave of his hand. "Get out…"

But their bodies wouldn't listen.

"GET OUT!"

They gasped, unconsciously taking steps back but not fully comprehending their youngest brother's words.

Till they hardly dodged the shreds of his wooden table.

"Get out! Leave me alone!"

At this point, Branch was crashing anything that came his way as he paced back and forth, moans and screams escaping his lips and palms pulling at his hair, taking out dark hairs on their way back.

"Leave! Now!" he shouted, not even looking up to face his brothers. "What part of NOW don't you understand?!"

They tried to move, but they couldn't. What happened to the baby of the family?

"Get out of my bunker! Now! Or I'll show you CRAZY!" He screamed, flipping his entire bookshelf and maniacally tearing at his books, a sight that left Clay in a trance-like state.

Poppy was the first one to recover, eyes darting between the shattered furniture and the blood on her boyfriend's hands.

When she said she wanted him to let it out, this was not what she meant, not at all.

Slightly panicking, the Queen took her sister's hand and quickly led her to the elevator, before doing the same with Branch's brothers. Each was holding another one's hand in an attempt to drag him along, though Poppy was already on that mission.

And in a blink, they were gone.

He was alone.

—------------

He was alone.

So why wasn't he calming down? Why was he still screaming?

The bunker, once tidy and organized, was now messy and dusty, debris crumbling down the walls and onto the ground. Why was he doing this? Branch didn't know for sure, all he knew was that his hands were itching.

He wanted to crash something.

He needed to crash something.

He wanted to let it out, but on what, when he's destroyed his own home?

The troll felt a surge of rage as he smashed his belongings. He had spent years building this bunker, treating it like home, like his safe place. But now it felt like a prison. He was alone, just like he had always been, so why did it hurt this time? They didn't really think that after leaving him for over two decades, and then come back, that he would want to join their party with open arms, did they? He didn't need them. He didn't need any of them.

He stormed in and out different rooms through his bunker, looking for something else to break.

But there was nothing. He'd crashed everything.

And that's when he collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving.

#Trolls #Trolls fanfiction #Branch #Poppy #John Dory #Bruce #Clay #Floyd #Brozone #Viva's there too #Feral Branch #FERAL BRANCH #Wow i suck at writing angst #Sorry but i had to write this #Trolls band together

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