#Pink Floyd Reunion

[ziggy0-o]

pink floyd members dispersing the moment that an uncomfortable emotion is expressed

[ohposhers]

★POPZONE AU★

AU Idea made by and belongs to @bulliestrolls im just moral support and he never uploaded it so it's my job to upload his AUs for him cause he is on break rn ooo go give him love

So the Popzone AU is pretty much the idea that Brozone decides to do a Reunion tour after the events of Trolls 3 both for nostalgia (before JD fucked shit up) and so Branch actually gets to experience performing with his brothers in concert without it ending in disaster Only issue is due to the mental and physical abuse he endured during his captivity Floyd is too physically fucked and terminally fatigued to perform properly or for extended periods of time SO ★THEY ALL DECIDE TO HAVE POPPY FILL IN FOR HIM AS THE PINK BITCH OF THE GROUP WOOHOO★

I'm not gonna go into detail about the AU cause that's Bully's job when his gay ass comes back from break I just wanted to make some unofficial shitposts and concept art, if you want to know more about the AU go spam Bully with asks and shit ;)) Anyway Poppy getting way too enthusiastic about being a Brozone Bro so she cuts her hair cause i said so

[This AU only works if we all collectively agree that the whole Kismet end scene never happened (Floyd being fine enough to perform, Branch asking Poppy to join the band, etc) its not real you never saw it and neither did i ok]

[iamthetruestrepairman]

the charts are the most monolithic they’ve ever been… “music renaissance“ and it’s like 10 good pop songs… where is the grunge where is the indie sleaze where is the metal. Where is the prog rock. It’s getting spooky out here

where is the rock music guys I’m scared

[crow-stars]

❝LITTLE BITS OF GOLD❞

❦summary; how can something so small and practically worthless make him want to protect it with all his heart. how unfair... ♪the characters in this story; gn!reader, azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech ✎word count; 2,151 ❀what do the ghosts say?; ambiguous, azul and reader are childhood friends, reader is a jellyfish, going to a carnival/fair with the tweels, azul calls reader dumb but not in a bad way ☛the author's notes; went to an event today, so posting this at who knows what am. also i suck ass at darts ☪look at the catalogue?

Azul doesn’t understand you. In all honesty, ever since the two of you were kids, he didn’t understand you that much. 

You were a pretty merfolk, skin that glowed a soft gold and purple in the dark of the sea, that see through domed hood framing your head in a beautiful manner that Azul still finds pretty even as he’s grown up. Jade and Floyd always liked dragging you around during the night as their own personal flashlight. And, of course, Azul was taken along for the ride, sticking close to you during those stupid night trips. You were always around the three, idly drifting along and going along with whatever adventure or antic the tweels decided to do for the day. 

You always liked Azul though, for whatever reason. In his eyes, you were like a barnacle stuck to his side, following after him for whatever he was doing or silently watching from the side. In all honesty, Azul was sure you were more of an airhead than anything else, not that was a bad thing, always talking about the future and things that Azul knows are a far distance in the future. Despite that, he still listened, sometimes even daring to daydream alongside you on the rare days where he let himself relax. 

A few years before Azul had been accepted into Night Raven College, you had to move away, or do a “migration”, as your parents had told you. You slowly slipped from Azul’s thoughts as studying magic and his enrollment in Night Raven College took priority. He had almost completely forgotten about  you (though not really), until the beginning of his sophomore year, having attained the role of housewarden and having built his reputation, Azul was ready to escort the new batch of freshmen into when someone called out to him with a familiar nickname. 

“Azu! Azu!” Before Azul could even register it, two arms wrapped around his abdomen and a cheery smile greeted him. There was only one person who would ever call him that and it was you. 

Azul’s cool facade was broken as embarrassment struck across his features, cheeks burning a pink hue as he looked at you. You were smiling so brightly at him, giggling in glee and bouncing on your heels. Your eyes had an undertone of gold to them, little gold and purple specks akin to freckles across your cheeks that remind Azul of your underwater form. Azul didn’t know whether to scold you or push you away, but it wasn’t the time for pleasantries. 

That was how his reunion went with you and it brings him back to the present, with you and Floyd stacking plates in a precarious manner. Another game that Floyd’s most likely pulled you into. Ever since you arrived at NRC, Floyd was doing the same thing he did when they were kids, dragging you along after him on whatever whim he pleased and you would always happily follow along, drifting and following whatever came to you. 

“Could you two stop that?” Azul grumbled as he raised his head from his work, eyes narrowing at you and Floyd. 

“Ah, sorry Azu.” Your eyes looked over to Azul, hands folding in your lap and tilting your head, giving Azul that blank look that he identified you with. Floyd, meanwhile, pouted his lips in protest and groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“Hmmm... Azul’s no fun. Hey, Jelly, here.” Floyd places the plate that was in his hands on your head, balancing it on top of you while you sit still. Your eyes glanced up at the plate before a soft laugh slipped past your lips, the little gold freckles on your cheeks pulsing a gentle glow that it seemed to do whenever you laughed or giggled. Floyd clapped and Jade, who just passed by, stopped to watch his brother as Floyd began to grab the plates from the stack to transfer onto your head. 

Azul heaves a heavy sigh and shakes his head. He lets his pen drop from his hands, knowing he’s not getting much work done when Floyd was doing things such as this. Especially when it was a somewhat interesting spectacle. Azul rubs his temple, watching as Floyd stacks plate after plate atop your head while you happily sit there. 

“Oh! Azu, Azu!”

“Hm? What is it?” 

Azul's eyes look over at you with a light smile, Floyd still stacking plates on your head. You were smiling that smile that only you could smile, swaying a bit from side to side and making the plates teeter precariously. It made Azul anxious to watch and he lightly stopped your swaying with a gentle hand. 

You didn't pay much mind to Azul's hand and only continued on with what you were saying. “I read about this thing that land people do sometimes called a carnival.” Floyd stopped stacking plates on your head and looked down at you, a curious look in his eyes. Jade had stopped behind the booth where the other three were, eyebrow quirked in curiosity along with his twin. 

“Do you think we can go to one please? My classmates say that there’s one this weekend!”

Before Azul could get his opinion in, Floyd was already agreeing with you, babbling and clamoring next to you, throwing his arms around you while cheering that it was an awesome idea. 

That was how Azul’s weekend got taken up with going to the carnival. And also how he had to replace at least 10 plates after they came crashing down when Floyd hugged you. 

Azul could see that you and Floyd were looking around with childish glee, the only thing keeping you two around being Azul’s plea to stay within eye line of him and Jade. The sun was only just barely beginning to set, streaking golden lines over the sky and mixing blue with oranges and yellows. 

The carnival wasn’t all that bad, typical in look to what one would expect. There were game and food booths, varying enticing smells that made Azul’s mouth water and prizes that had you pointing them out everytime you passed by. 

“Look, look! It’s an octopus! Can we go get it, please?” 

The octopus plush was relatively small, big black eyes and little details under the tentacles for the suction cups. It was definitely cute at least, though Floyd was also grinning at Azul as he pointed at it. 

“Azul, it looks just like you! We should get it, hehe!” Azul rolled his eyes with a sigh, shaking his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses shifting up a bit. 

“Floyd, please...” 

“You know Floyd... You could try winning it.” Jade’s smile turned into a grin, sharp teeth on display as he looked at the booth with a smile. “I think it’ll be an interesting addition to the Mostro Lounge, don’t you think?” 

Azul groaned as Floyd rushed to the booth to play, eagerly giving the carney enough thaumarks for a turn to play. It was some game where you would have to knock down some milk glasses. The carny stood by the side as they gave Floyd some balls to throw at the stacked glasses. Azul sighed as his eyes roamed away from the tweels to see what you were up to. 

You, however, were not in the spot where you should have been. This made a bolt of anxiety shoot through Azul as his eyes swept across the crowds and booths. He knew he should have invested in one of those weird child leashes that he once saw. It wasn’t much different when he and the tweels would wrap seaweed around your waist to keep you from wandering too far from them. 

With a groan, Azul informed Jade of what he was doing and went into the crowd, weaving through people as his eyes darted from booth to booth, trying to find you among the masses. 

Azul’s eyes catch that purple and gold glow nearby a balloon darts booth, staring up at one of the prizes. The sight of you safe and sound helped alleviate Azul’s anxiety, though it didn’t stop the irritation of you suddenly up and disappearing. 

“What have we told you about wandering off? You know how dangerous it could be after the incident with the current and─” 

“Azu.” Your hand points to one of the carnival prizes, stars in your eyes. You were captivated by a set of match heart charm necklaces, colored gold that looked cheap. The strings of the necklace were only black strings even, one bad stress from fraying and falling apart. “I want them.”  

Azul gave you a scrutinizing look, eyebrows furrowed a bit. “Those are the most flimsy looking things ever.”

“But they say best friends on them! We have to get them!” Another look at them and the necklaces did, indeed, say best friends in small letters that were harder to read from where Azul was standing. 

Another look at you made Azul sigh, grabbing your wrist and walking over to the booth. He took out the required amount of thaumarks, placing it down on the counter. “Five darts please.”

You made a little cheer as the carny provided the darts to Azul, watching him pick up one of the darts and prepare to throw it. It would be easy, surely, it’s just aiming darts and popping balloons. 

His first dart falls short and falls to the floor. The second dart manages to hit a balloon, but not pop it. The third hits a balloon, thankfully. The fourth one hits, but doesn’t pop and the fifth somehow slips in between the balloons. The look of disbelief on Azul’s face is almost laughable, though your look of disappointment made Azul pull out another five thaumarks for another five darts. 

The second’s round’s results were the same as the first, either missing or slipping in between the cracks of the balloons. Another five thaumarks, another five darts, another round of failure. Azul groaned and dragged his hands down his face, feeling frustration begin to bubble under his skin. This damn game was getting annoying. 

Another five, another round, but Azul managed to get two balloons this time. He rubbed his temples. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. Azul took out another five thaumarks and received his five darts. 

This time, Azul takes a few moments to try and aim it, maybe hoping it’ll finally land for once. After what seemed like forever of aiming, steadying his arm, Azul throws the dart. He hears a pop and his heart jumps in excitement. You let out a small exclaim, clinging onto Azul’s arm as you watched him. The second dart, aim, steady, raise his hand just a bit, and throw the dart. Another pop. Pop after pop, the darts fly into the board and hit the balloons 

Finally, finally, the balloons popped, all the darts hitting their target. You cheered so loudly, jumping up and down and shaking Azul’s shoulder. “You did it, you did it, you did it!” 

A sense of relief runs through Azul, from finally popping those damn balloons and keeping his pride intact, but also being able to win those charm necklaces. It was an oddly nice feeling, watching as you excitedly point to those flimsy things, little freckled spots pulsing and glowing golden as the carny hands you the necklaces. You held them up to Azul, grin wide and chest full of laughter. 

“Azu! C’mere!” Despite what you said, you came closer to Azul, putting the necklace on for him and putting your own on. 

“We match, we match!” Azul watches as you point at his necklace and yours bouncing on the heels of your feet, smiling so bright. 

The rest of the trip was relatively fun, meeting back up with Jade and Floyd, who had won that octopus and more. Apparently he had decided he wanted all the plushes the carney had and took them. Whether through legitimate means or by other means, the tweels refused to elaborate. You managed to get the octopus off of Floyd and carried it around with you, Azul looping an arm with yours that helped him keep track of you as you tugged against his hold multiple times whenever you saw something that caught your eye. 

Eventually, you all had to go back to the dorms, though Floyd kept whining about how he wanted to stay longer. It was dark by the time you all returned and Azul sent you and the tweels to bed, heading to his room himself just as tired. 

As he was changing, Azul took off the charm necklace, inspecting it for a bit before taking out a container that he had kept full of coins and allowing the necklace into the container. The fake gold sheen contrasted with the coins of silver and gold, yet it felt just as precious.

[luxnaiadis]

"Virgo, not virgin."

Terzomega! Smut

Terzo woke up alone that morning — or rather, he was woken up by the MRI-level sunlight invading Omega’s bedroom. He couldn’t fight the forced illumination, and if he hadn’t been so dizzy with sleep, unable to form a coherent thought, Terzo might have wondered why Omega didn’t have curtains on the windows. They were long windows; the sun and moon could easily peek in on whatever they did in that room. The moon had seen too much the night before — it had witnessed Terzo fall asleep in the arms of a man who, just a few months ago, had been nothing more than a chef Nihil hired for Terzo’s birthday. But they’d exchanged numbers, and then messages.

After ghosting Omega for a while, Terzo could hardly believe it when he saw the man again at the movie theater in the mall, accompanied by two friends, Alpha and Aether — while Terzo was there with his three brothers. The reunion was a bit awkward, but the night ended just like the beginning of an erotic story. They ran into each other outside the theater when Terzo had stepped out for some air. Right there, they kissed, with Omega pulling him in by the waist.

When Omega suggested they go back to his place after the movie, Terzo — desperate to fuck that nearly two-meter-tall blond man with tattooed, muscular arms — had eagerly agreed. And that’s how he ended up in Omega’s bed, after the best fuck of his life.

The bed still smelled like the night before — a mix of sweat, Terzo’s sweet and woody perfume, and Omega’s strong, borderline painful scent, the kind that clings to everything and leaves a trail. Terzo lay on his side, covered only to the waist, hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his face creased with the clear look of someone who’d slept like a rock — just like he used to in biology class. Omega’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets still warm, but everything smelled like him — including Terzo.

He stretched slowly, letting out a dramatic groan, the kind meant both to complain and to get attention, just in case someone was listening. His body ached in specific spots — good spots — the kind he wanted hit again. He ran a hand over his chest, nipples now purplish, the marks stronger there than on his neck, and he smiled to himself, not modest at all.

He blinked slowly, trying to remember where he was. The night came back like a film: the couch, their fingers intertwined, muffled laughter against his neck, the kisses, the shower, being carried bridal-style to the bed, and the comfortable silence afterward. His stomach flipped — that ridiculous wave of anxiety that always followed doing something he really wanted.

Getting up quietly, Terzo looked for his slippers — but then remembered he wasn’t home and stepped out barefoot. He quickly realized he hadn’t brought anything — no toothbrush, no change of clothes, not even shoes. Of course, he had rushed over just to fuck Omega. He’d even ditched his brothers to go. The soles of his feet reacted to the cold floor, a shiver running up his legs and straight to his spine, but he quickly got used to it, the warmth from his feet exchanging heat with the floor as he walked toward the bathroom.

He turned the tap, let cold water run. Squeezed toothpaste onto his index finger and scrubbed it across his teeth. Terzo wasn’t about to go downstairs to face Omega with morning breath. He found it gross — that bitter taste in his mouth only made it worse. He spat, rinsed, and studied his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles, unruly hair, pillow lines still on his skin. Fuck’s sake, he looked vulnerable.

He washed his face, rubbing under his eyes, smoothing the skin and stretching it with his fingertips, making a path to his temples to stimulate circulation. He splashed cold water on the back of his neck to wake up completely. Took a deep breath.

In the bedroom, he grabbed the first shirt he saw thrown over the chair — a loose cotton t-shirt of Omega’s, with the most generic Pink Floyd print. It smelled like fabric softener and Omega, again. He slipped the collar over his head without even needing to stretch it and pulled it down until it covered his pale thighs, the muscles still sore in a pleasurable way. Then he picked up his phone from the nightstand, just lighting up the screen to check for messages. And there were many. He swiped the notification bar to the side, mumbling under his breath at the number of messages: 329.

It bugged him a little that it wasn’t 340. He didn’t like odd numbers unless they ended in 5.

He went down the stairs quietly, peeking carefully. The smell was stronger when he stepped into the kitchen. Melted butter, something slowly toasting. Terzo leaned against the doorframe and stood there for a moment, in silence. It was a talent of his — walking so lightly, so quietly, he even scared his own father. Nihil once screamed when he saw him appear "out of nowhere" behind him in the living room. Honestly, Terzo didn’t know how the old man hadn’t had a heart attack. His brothers learned not to trust the absolute silence of the house, but they still got startled when Terzo suddenly showed up beside them.

Omega had his back turned, focused. Hair tied in a messy bun. On the other side of the counter, there was a board with fresh-cut fruit, a plate stacked with pancakes with melting butter on top, and small bowls of honey and raspberry jam. The coffee was already made, next to two mugs.

Oh yes, and he was only wearing underwear.

The younger one’s eyes fell on Omega’s broad, strong back, devouring him in silence. Terzo approached without saying a word, his bare feet barely making a sound on the cold floor. He had nothing in mind — he had just woken up, after all. He wasn’t a morning person. Besides being grumpy, he was slow during this short period. Sometimes he feared going out in the morning and barking at someone who dared say “good morning” to him.

He stopped beside Omega and waited. One second. Two.

Omega only noticed when he turned his head to grab a plate.

— Holy shit! — he jumped slightly, but genuinely. — You almost killed me!

Terzo raised his eyebrows, expressionless, then gave a small, mischievous smirk.

— Good morning.

— Good morning? You showed up like a ghost! — Omega placed a hand on his chest, still laughing. He rarely laughed much because if he opened his mouth too wide, he feared his heart might fall out — unsure whether from the fright or from seeing sleepy Terzo wearing nothing but his shirt, which on the younger one looked like a dress. — Are you always like this?

— Since I was a kid — he replied, pulling a cube of melon from the cutting board with two fingers. — My family got used to it. More or less.

Terzo sat at the counter and grabbed a mug without much thought, pouring coffee until halfway. He smelled the liquid, blew on it gently, then took a small sip. Closed his eyes and pretended he didn’t just taste something demonic and bitter in his mouth.

— Strong — he said, holding back a grimace, then moved the mug away and hoped Omega would forget about the coffee.

The older one turned to face him, arms crossed. Ah, those arms… Terzo almost drooled.

— I made pancakes, fruit, and real jam…

— Are you trying to spoil me? — Terzo asked, stretching an arm and pulling the plate of pancakes with his fingertips, dragging it toward himself.

— Or it’s a strategy to make sure you come back.

Terzo smiled from the corner of his mouth, eyes on the plate.

— It works.

Omega let out a short laugh and returned to the sink, washing his hands for the fifth time and then grabbing a napkin. Terzo watched every move like someone pretending not to look, but unable to resist. He liked seeing Omega like that in the morning — shirtless, no pants, taking care of breakfast like it was a real act of affection. And it was. It was domestic. And it was nice.

"Did you sleep well?" Omega asked after a while, turning his head over his shoulder as he tossed the napkin aside. He didn’t seem to care about being half-naked, but why would it matter? After all, Terzo had literally seen him naked the night before. And truth be told, Omega wasn’t dumb — it wasn’t like he couldn’t have put on some clothes before coming down to make breakfast.

"I don’t remember dreaming," Terzo replied. Omega knew his teasing was working every time he caught the younger one staring — and now that Terzo brought a forkful of pancake to his mouth, he missed and poked his nose instead. "That’s usually a good sign."

Omega wanted to laugh when Terzo tried to wipe the honey off his nose, pretending it was just an itch. But he held it in, not wanting to embarrass him more.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them. The older one invited Terzo to sit at the table, to eat more comfortably in a chair instead of on a stool. Pancakes were served and coffee refilled — at least for Omega. Terzo gave a forced smile and said he was still sipping slowly. The sunlight was still pouring in too brightly through the windows, but it didn’t bother anymore. In fact, it seemed to highlight the beauty of the moment, and the beauty of everything. Omega’s silver-gold hair looked like a halo, his delicate features lit up like he was the embodiment of the god Apollo. Terzo forgot how to breathe.

Omega placed a plate in front of Terzo, sat down on the other side, and picked up his mug again, taking a long sip and setting it down after. He leaned his elbows on the table, fingers wrapped around the mug, watching Terzo eat. Terzo still looked a little out of it, hair messy, a strand falling over his forehead. The loose shirt slipping off his slender shoulder revealed skin marked by a tattoo Omega didn’t remember seeing before, and a sharp collarbone just under thin skin.

Terzo speared a piece of pancake and lazily spread some honey on it. He was there like he’d always been there. Like that was where he belonged. Omega swallowed hard and looked away.

This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened. Waking up with someone in the house. Terzo didn’t seem uncomfortable with it — and that was the strangest part.

“These pancakes…” Terzo said, after a short sip of coffee — so short it was like he didn’t really drink any, just pretended to. Then he mysteriously stopped talking, without finishing the sentence.

Omega raised an eyebrow, and instead of hearing the rest, all he got was Terzo chewing slowly. Then the younger one just said:

“Hm.”

“‘Hm’ what?”

“‘Hm’ good. I liked it.”

Omega almost smiled. The compliment was dry, but it seemed sincere. Even more so because it came after a pause.

“I made them with what I had at home,” he added, like he needed to justify it. He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut up when Terzo was around. “And because I figured you’d wake up hungry.”

“I did,” Terzo answered, wiping the corner of his mouth with a finger.

The blonde leaned his forearm on the table. Terzo kept eating, but now he was watching him — the way his fingers wouldn’t stay still, how he tapped the table with the other hand in a rhythm Terzo guessed was Back in Black by AC/DC.

“You do everything so neatly, huh?” Terzo asked, dragging a piece of pancake through some jam and eating it with the same calm as before.

“I’m a chef,” Omega replied, stopping the tapping. “And a Virgo.”

Terzo chewed on the pancake and only responded after: “You do seem like a Virgo. But not a virgin. Not even close.”

Omega burst into laughter, throwing his head back. “You’re such an idiot.”

“I know.”

Omega kept laughing, now quieter, eyes squinting as if the laughter was hiding a touch of nervousness. That post-night thing, where nothing was promised, but the gestures had started to feel a bit too intimate. He cut another piece of pancake, not paying much attention. The knife was a little dull — he mentally noted, “sharpen the knives.” But he’d probably forget again. Omega couldn’t keep a thought in his head for more than five minutes without losing it or getting distracted.

Terzo seemed oblivious to all of it, sitting with his legs folded under the chair, like he came with it along with the shirt, eyes glancing at Omega sideways. He was clearly trying not to stare. But Omega had already noticed — it was even funny. Terzo might be quiet, but when he felt something, he couldn’t hide it.

“Do you always wake up with that funeral face?” Omega asked, half distracted, wiping his sticky finger on the side of his mug.

“I always wake up thinking I should’ve slept more.”

“We slept a lot,” Omega chuckled. “Like… a lot.”

“Still. My body wakes up, and I wait for my head to catch up. Sometimes I feel like I get up without it.”

Omega didn’t respond right away. He understood that feeling. Waking up before you’re really back — like your body works but the rest takes time to tune in. Some days, he felt like that too. And today was one of them. He was still dreaming.

“You don’t eat fast, huh?” he asked after a while.

“No. If I eat fast, I don’t taste it. If that’s the case, it’s not even worth eating.”

Omega laughed again, resting his chin in the hand Terzo wished was grabbing his waist — or maybe his ass, he wasn’t picky — once more.

“I just asked ‘cause... I don’t know. It’s nice seeing someone eat what I made. Not pretending.”

“I like simple food,” Terzo shrugged, eyes still on the plate. “But well made. And this is exactly what I like.”

A compliment. Small, but coming from him, it meant more than any flowery praise. Omega just nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. Sometimes, he was too sensitive with words. Sometimes also with silence. And with how Terzo held the mug with both hands — small hands compared to Omega’s. It was adorable how Terzo widened his eyes to sip the coffee. Also adorable was how the idiot was clearly hating the bitter coffee but too shy to ask for sugar.

And then came the silence again. Omega looked at Terzo and tried not to overthink. Tried not to ask what this was. Tried not to get up and kiss him just to see what would happen.

Terzo, on the other hand, stared at his plate but didn’t eat anymore. He just pushed the fork around, tracing invisible lines through the honey that had dripped onto the shallow dish. He didn’t want to look again at Omega’s bare chest, or the way his neck bent when he rested his head on his hand. The neck Terzo ached to cover in kisses and hickeys. But it was hard.

“I don’t usually have people over in the morning,” Omega broke the silence.

“And I bet you don’t usually make post-sex pancakes either.”

“Oh, I do. When the sex is worth it,” the blond replied with a cheeky smile.

Silence returned, but now it was a different one.

It was the same tension from the cinema hallway the night before.

And they both knew exactly what that silence had turned into—a symphony of moans by the end of the night.

Terzo looked away first, stirring his plate again but smirking slightly, satisfied. He took more fruit, like it was all normal, like sitting in a near-stranger’s kitchen with the taste of him still on his tongue wasn’t heavy. Could he call him a near-stranger? He didn’t know. He hadn’t known him long, so technically yes—but not so little as to feel awkward in his presence.

Omega took another sip of coffee and stared into the cup, serious for a moment.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said finally. “But it was good. Really good.”

Terzo stopped chewing and looked at him.

“Isn’t it coffee?” he asked, genuinely confused, furrowing his brow—making Omega burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

“No, it’s…”

“This damn bright light is going to blind me. You’re gonna have a front row seat to the end of the world living here,” Terzo cut in, ignoring Omega’s mumbled reply, squinting at the sun pouring through the window. He looked away quickly, already seeing green and purple suns blinking in his vision whenever he looked at the table or the walls.

“I’m gonna buy curtains, damn it.”

“Buy blackout ones. And call me when you put them up,” said Terzo, already licking the finger that had honey on it, then sucking it clean. Omega’s body reacted instantly, but he played it cool.

“I’ll call you before that,” he said, his voice rougher now.

They looked at each other for a beat too long.

Terzo really wished he could see Omega without a purple blotch blurring his vision. But the sun had burned into his retinas. Slowly, the purple began to fade, revealing Omega’s beautiful face again.

This time, Omega looked away first.

“Want more coffee?”

“No, no, grazie!” Terzo said quickly, the taste of honey and pancakes still lingering in his mouth. He looked at Omega, still resting his head on his hand, eyes locked on him in a way that made Terzo feel slightly uneasy—but not in a bad way. It was a strange sensation, being watched without judgment, but with a certain intensity he wasn’t used to.

“I can wash the dishes,” he offered, out of habit after a meal. He looked at the pile of plates and utensils on the counter and immediately regretted it.

Omega let out a low, nearly silent sigh, and shook his head with a small smile.

“No need. Just relax.”

Phew.

Out of nowhere, Omega got up and walked behind the counter. Terzo watched him in silence, curious. Omega gathered the dishes and started loading the dishwasher. Glasses, cutlery, frying pan—everything slotted in without fuss, but not without care.

“You just throw everything in the dishwasher like that?” Terzo asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Omega looked back at him, as if the question was kind of funny.

“Of course. Why not? I’m not a fan of hand-washing…” he said with a casual smile. “The dishwasher does it faster, and I can do other things while it’s working.”

Terzo chuckled quietly, leaning back in his chair, watching how Omega arranged everything.

Then, on impulse, Terzo got up, walked silently to the sink, and stubbornly washed the coffee mug he’d used. He filled it with water to mix the remaining coffee, scrubbed the bottom and rim well with the sponge and a squirt of soap on the soft yellow side. He shoved the mug between the other cups and plates in the drying rack and stood there for a few seconds, his back to Omega. His shoulders rose and fell slowly. The bitter taste of coffee on his tongue, the scent of Omega’s cologne clinging to his shirt collar. Everything was too much and yet too calm. His head spun at an odd rhythm, like the world had started moving slower after that night.

Omega, behind him, had just closed the dishwasher door with a bump of his hip.

Suddenly, the hairs on Terzo’s neck stood up, goosebumps crawling over his skin, heart racing—like he could already feel Omega’s presence before he even moved. A weird instinct that he was about to be thoroughly fucked on the marble counter.

“Why are you wearing that shirt?” Omega’s voice came from behind, low and rough.

That’s when Terzo felt bold and, still with his back turned, smiled to himself and said:

“Because you haven’t taken it off me yet, bellissimo.”

Terzo didn’t take long to find what he was looking for.

Omega pulled him back by the loose shirt, making Terzo lose his balance and fall into the strong arms of the taller man. He nearly melted in the muscular, tattooed arms of his lover, who held him tightly, one arm wrapped around Terzo’s waist and the other resting on his back so he could grasp the back of Terzo’s warm neck, tugging at some of the dark hair before leaning down to press their lips together in a desperate kiss, his tongue invading Terzo’s mouth, who moaned softly, lifting one knee seductively as the hem of the shirt slipped from his thighs, revealing pale, soft skin that Omega didn’t hesitate to grab and squeeze with the hand that had been on his waist. Terzo moaned again, and Omega continued the kiss, not wanting to part from the delicious sensation of kissing Terzo’s soft lips.

Finally, Omega’s lips slid from the kiss to the curve of Terzo’s neck, leaving a hot, wet trail down to his shoulder. His fingers, firm, moved up along the side of the exposed thigh, as if memorizing every inch of skin they touched. Terzo gasped, throwing his head back against the blond’s shoulder, offering more.

"You gonna let me use you like this, dolcezza?" Omega murmured against his skin, voice rough and low, almost an animalistic purr that sent a shiver down Terzo’s spine.

Terzo answered with a cheeky smile, arching his hips to grind even closer to Omega, already feeling the hard evidence of the other’s desire pressing into him.

"You can use me however you want, amore."

He barely processed it when he was lifted off the floor and dropped onto the counter, with Omega catching the back of his head so he wouldn’t hit it — unlike his back, which hit the marble hard, making Terzo arch in response.

Omega leaned over him instantly, his hot breath brushing Terzo’s face, his light eyes gleaming, pupils wide and matching Terzo’s, who was in the same state.

"You like it when I’m rough with you, huh?" he whispered, his large hands already sliding up under the shirt Omega had loaned Terzo. "But don’t worry, dolcezza… I take good care of what’s mine."

Terzo moaned, the sound caught between his teeth as the shirt was finally yanked off his body with an impatient tug. The kitchen’s cold air hit his skin, but it was soon replaced by the warmth of Omega’s touch, kissing his chest, his shoulders, nibbling here and there, just like he had the night before.

"You tease me walking around in this shirt" the blond growled, his hands gripping Terzo’s thighs, spreading them wider on the marble counter.

"Maybe I was counting on you fucking me so hard I wouldn't even remember my own name", Terzo said, his voice shaky, hands tugging impatiently at the waistband of Omega’s underwear, the hard length underneath so visible the fabric barely made a difference.

Omega smirked at the corner of his lips and pushed his hips hard against Terzo’s, drawing a loud moan from the dark-haired man. The sound echoed through the empty kitchen, muffled only by Omega’s hungry mouth crashing back onto Terzo’s lips as he rubbed himself against him. He didn’t waste time. His hands moved quickly, pulling the underwear down in one swift motion, not caring where it landed. Terzo gasped, his legs tightening around the blond’s waist the moment he felt that hot, rigid flesh slot perfectly between his thighs.

" Fuck...", Terzo whispered, eyes locked on Omega’s, his chest rising and falling fast. "Fuck me hard."

" With pleasure", Omega replied, lightly biting Terzo’s lower lip.

He leaned over the brunette’s body, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held Terzo’s pale thighs wide open under his control. His fingertips dug lightly into the firm flesh as he positioned himself, their breaths mixing in the heated, stifling space between kisses. When Omega finally entered, slow and deep, Terzo threw his head back with a hoarse moan, almost a muffled cry, his eyes squeezing shut as if a long-awaited wave had just crashed into him. His fingers clutched the blond’s broad shoulders, nails scraping across tattooed skin.

"Cazzo..." Terzo gasped, his hips already moving on their own, desperate for more.

"Shh, dolcezza... let me show you how a real man fucks you."

And he started to move. Steady, strong, with thrusts that made Terzo writhe against the marble, his arms wrapped around Omega’s neck as if holding onto him was the only instinct left. The two got lost in the rhythm, in the muffled moans, in the wet, obscene sound of bodies colliding.

Terzo no longer knew where he ended and Omega began. All he knew was that he wanted more, feeling Omega’s cock slam against the wall of his belly, pounding until they could see the soft bulge that came and went in Terzo’s lower abdomen with every thrust.

Omega quickened his pace, his entire body tense, arm muscles flexing as he held Terzo in place. Terzo let out a louder moan, his head falling to the side, messy hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. He gripped Omega’s shoulders tightly, nails digging in as if needing an anchor to keep from completely unraveling.

"Dio... non fermarti...", he gasped, the Italian slipping out unfiltered.

" I’m not stopping", Omega growled against his throat "You’re going to come on my cock like the good boy you are."

That sentence made Terzo truly shiver. An involuntary spasm ran through his whole body, and he screamed against the blond’s shoulder, his legs tightening even more around him.

Omega kept thrusting hard, relentless, his eyes fixed on Terzo’s contorted face, as if memorizing every expression, every sound. He was close too, but wanted to push Terzo to the limit before giving in.

With one hand, he slipped between their bodies and grabbed Terzo’s cock, stroking it in the same strong, steady rhythm as his thrusts. The dark-haired man screamed again, louder this time, writhing, sweating, eyes glazed.

"Come for me", Omega murmured, his teeth grazing Terzo’s ear. " Come on, dolcezza, I want to see that pretty face when you do."

And Terzo couldn’t hold back anymore. His body arched with the intensity of the orgasm, his back pressing against the cold marble as he moaned Omega’s name loudly, his voice breaking at the end. His whole body pulsed, trembling under the hands and body of the blond, who kept moving—now deeper, faster—until with a muffled growl, Omega spilled inside him too, panting, eyes closed, forehead pressed against Terzo’s.

For a moment, there was only silence. Silence and heavy breaths.

Omega slowly slid out, his hand caressing the side of Terzo’s face with a tenderness that contrasted with everything they’d just done.

"You liked my shirt, huh?" he murmured, smiling, his voice rough and satisfied.

Terzo smiled back, exhausted:

" Maybe I should wear it more often."

•

" Seriously, you don’t have to dress me. I’ve got hands, see?", Terzo complained, even as Omega pulled the dark jeans up over his bare legs.

Since Terzo’s legs felt like jelly, Omega ended up carrying him again, up the stairs to the bedroom. But it wasn’t like Omega’s legs were working great either — they just trembled a little less than Terzo’s, and that was that. They were finally getting dressed after spending almost the whole morning with hardly any clothes on. Omega, now wearing black sweatpants and a plain black shirt, insisted on dressing shaky Terzo himself.

"Ah, but I like taking care of my things", the blond replied with a lazy smile while adjusting the waistband of Terzo’s jeans on his slim hips.

"So I’m your “thing” now?", teased the dark-haired one, but his eyes betrayed that he wasn’t mad at all. Quite the opposite.

" Still gotta put on the shirt", Omega said, grabbing the gray piece and pulling the thin, high collar so it’d be easier to slip over Terzo’s head "Arms up."

With the shirt now on the younger one, Omega’s big hands smoothed the fabric over Terzo’s chest like it was natural to touch him that way. He lifted the shirt and got down on one knee to tuck it better inside the jeans, but soon got distracted by the exposed skin on Terzo’s stomach.

"Don’t worry, dolcezza… I take good care of what’s mine", he murmured, his deep voice tracing the line of Terzo’s waist, who gasped as the warm mouth brushed his skin.

Terzo moaned softly, hands pressing on Omega’s head:

"We’re gonna get all messed up by the time we get there", he said, trying to hold back a body already responding to the tease.

"Then we better get out of here soon", Omega replied, standing again as if breaking his own trance, even if he hadn’t really left it. "Before I throw you back on that counter or fuck you on this bed."

Terzo refused to be carried again, insisting he could walk alone, so they went down the stairs with Terzo firmly holding the railing. Once downstairs, he grabbed the coat Omega had found tossed in the living room and folded as soon as he woke up, placing it over the sofa, then threw it over his shoulders, putting it on himself. Just like he laced his sneakers.

They laughed, a muffled, shared laugh, as they left the apartment — two idiots with shaky legs.

In the elevator, decency lasted three floors.

Terzo was pressed against the mirror. Omega kissed him like it was the first time, like the whole elevator belonged to them. Their tongues tangled hungrily, Omega’s fingers squeezing Terzo’s waist beneath the fabric, their breathing already out of sync. When the elevator beeped and stopped on the ground floor, Omega gave a quick last kiss on Terzo’s swollen lips and stepped back with a satisfied smirk, fixing his hair as if nothing had happened. Terzo, on the other hand, let out a dramatic sigh, trying to straighten his coat and turtleneck.

"Three more floors and I’d have made you come pressed against that mirror", Omega casually commented as they walked through the building lobby.

Outside, the air was cool just right, but with the sun strong and steady in the sky. The city was still waking up, half sleepy, half gray under the warm golden light, cars slowly passing through the wide clean streets of the privileged neighborhood, no different from Terzo’s.

Omega shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced sideways at Terzo, who walked next to him with short steps, pulling his coat up to his neck.

" You’re walking all crooked", he commented.

Terzo made a low sound, half laugh, half complaint, and didn’t look back. "Your fault", he said, the mismatched eyes staring straight ahead. "Don’t even try to pretend you’re sorry, huh?"

"Not even a little."

They walked on in silence. When they reached the parked car, Omega unlocked it with a click on the keychain, and the sound of the locks was so soft it barely echoed.

Without ceremony, Omega opened the passenger door and stepped aside. Terzo got in slowly, saying nothing, sliding his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, checking if he had actually put his phone inside or if he’d imagined it. He sank into the seat as if the car were the bed of the room where they had been minutes before, resting his head against the headrest with a soft sigh.

Omega walked around, got in, and started the engine. The radio lit up discreetly on the dashboard but didn’t play anything. On the way, neither of them spoke. Omega drove calmly, almost distracted, his left hand steady on the wheel and his right alternating between the gear shift and his own knee. Terzo kept his eyes on the window, watching the buildings go by, enjoying the scenery before getting nauseous, as always.

Fifteen minutes later, they entered the neighborhood where the rich didn’t need to show off their wealth — the houses spoke for them. Tall and wide residences, each occupying almost three lots, with well-kept gardens, tall symmetrical trees. Everything there had an artificial silence, as if even that had been bought.

The house Terzo shared with his brothers stood at the end of the street, looking like a small palace, built with reddish bricks and tall windows framed by dark wood, reminiscent of those old mansions in some elegant English countryside village. An iron wrought gate, ornamented with arabesques, allowed a view of the extensive garden — immaculate, symmetrical, and, in Terzo’s opinion, terribly dull. Roses planted in rows, meticulously sculpted bushes, light stone pathways winding around flowerbeds that seemed drawn with a ruler. And knowing Primo, Terzo didn’t doubt it. A stone staircase led to the main door, made of solid wood, with a knocker shaped like a goat’s head. They never let Secondo pick anything again.

"Before going in, kiss the goat," Secondo would say, and then Primo would kick him and tell him to shut the fuck up.

Omega stopped the car in front of the main entrance, pulling up to the curb with precision. He didn’t turn off the engine. He stayed there, hands on the wheel, eyes still facing forward. As if he were waiting for something.

Terzo slowly unbuckled his seatbelt, looked at the house for a few seconds. Then turned sideways, looking at Omega lightly, as if wanting to say something — but said nothing. He just pushed the door open naturally.

Outside, he pulled his overcoat tighter. Ran a hand through his dark hair, now tousled by the wind, and took two steps toward the gate. He paused for a moment, as if thinking of running back and kissing Omega’s cheek. But he didn’t.

Omega stayed there, watching.

Only when Terzo entered, disappearing into the house entrance without looking back, did he remove his hand from the wheel, adjusted the seat with a subtle click, and took the road — unhurried, with the radio still silent.

Terzo exhaled through his mouth. The front garden was so much like Primo — and too perfect to be natural. Besides the roses, there were lavenders, small freshly watered white lilies, and other flowers Terzo didn’t care enough to know the names of. Everything smelled like fresh earth. Primo himself had gotten up early to water the plants, as he did every single day. The lavenders had been planted especially for Terzo, though Primo never admitted it out loud. When they moved into that house, separating from their father, who insisted on being present — but a present father isn’t always a good one — Terzo already suffered from depression and anxiety, especially after his mother’s death, and Primo, as a gardening enthusiast, had filled that garden with every type of plant. Terzo was invited every morning by his older brother to go out to the gardens, after some months, maybe six, to walk there. The scent was soft and calming, and the younger one didn’t understand why he was the only one Primo invited to spend time there; he just knew his crises had decreased until almost disappearing completely.

Terzo wandered slowly among the foliage, letting his fingers slide over the tips of the wet leaves. At the side of the entrance, he saw the wide stairs leading up to the main veranda — dark stone steps, with a wrought iron railing curving upward. His favorite spot.

He took one last look at the garden, checking if no one was on the veranda, then leaned on the railing with a small push. He climbed with the lightness of someone who had done it for years. He sat at the top, legs swinging gently. The overcoat fell over his thighs, covered by pants hiding the faint bruises left by Omega’s hands, and his wind-tousled hair fell over his eyes. Terzo let his body lean back a little, hands gripping the cold metal firmly.

He stayed there for a few minutes. Then slid off the railing and climbed the last steps, pushing the double doors of the house open slowly.

When he entered, he was greeted by the smell of warm bread, strong coffee… and voices.

"Guarda chi è tornato dal mondo dei morti", murmured Secondo, without even looking up from his phone.

Primo rolled his eyes as he passed by and, without meaning to, sneaked a peek at his younger brother’s screen: Secondo was liking photos of a woman in a bikini, her backside prominently turned to the camera.

"Look who finally decided to show up,” Copia said, spreading jelly on the bread. He was wearing a Mickey Mouse robe and slippers. “I thought you had already become part of the decoration at our Viking’s place.”

“Shut up, damn it,” Terzo replied, throwing his coat on a chair after pulling his phone out of his pocket. He pulled out another chair and sat down. “Just so you know: his coffee is better than yours. Even if it’s fucking bitter.”

Copia gave a goofy smile when Terzo pulled the chair next to him, swinging his feet excitedly on the floor.

“He chose to sit here, huh. Just putting that on record!” he said cheerfully to the brothers, who just shrugged.

“Someone’s feeling needy,” Terzo commented, grabbing a piece of bread.

“I am. You disappear, don’t answer… I thought they were already fishing your body out of the river.”

Secondo didn’t take his eyes off the phone but answered dryly, going back to the previous comment:

“You don’t even know how to turn on a coffee maker. What are you comparing?” he scoffed. “Want some, or has the big guy already fed you?”

“Already. Coffee, pancakes, and some sliced fruit.” Terzo gave a half-smile and settled into his chair.

Copia turned slightly in his chair, resting his arm on the table with a gossiping look.

“So… did you really sleep with Omega?”

“I did.”

“But really slept… or ‘slept’?”

“I slept, Copia. In the bed. With him. He sleeps spooning, by the way. Big guy, kind of like a bear.”

Secondo glanced away from his phone for a second.

“He wrapped you up like a pancake, huh?”

“I almost got decapitated by a bicep, dude,” Terzo said, tossing his head back in laughter.

Primo let out a chuckle.

“Damn. And he didn’t smother you in your sleep?”

“Almost,” Terzo replied, laughing through his nose.

“The guy is huge. I woke up in the middle of the night with his arm around my neck. Like, heavy. It felt like I was trapped in a cement necklace.”

Copia laughed, pushing his empty cup toward Primo, who gave a look of lazy disdain at the offered cup.

“I thought you’d leave early,” the youngest said.

“There was coffee ready,” Terzo shrugged. “I thought it’d be polite to stay and have some.”

“And?”

Terzo made a subtle grimace.

“The coffee was bitter. But I didn’t want to ask for sugar.”

“Why not?” Secondo raised an eyebrow, curious.

“I don’t know… I didn’t have the heart to ruin the mood.”

The voices around them faded a little as Terzo grabbed his phone again. Not that anyone was shouting.

He stared at the screen, his fingers hesitating.

“Did you get home safe?”

He deleted it.

“Let me know when you arrive.”

Deleted that too.

In the end, he typed:

“Let me know when you get there. And thanks for yesterday and the coffee.”

He stared at that. It seemed dumb. Or too serious.

He sighed and sent it.

“What’s that face?” Copia asked, piling crumbs in the corner of his plate.

“Nothing. Just waiting to see if he replies.”

“He left like… two minutes ago? Three?” Secondo raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Terzo bit the corner of his lip, distracted.

“Hm.” Copia bit his own fingertip. “You worried about the bear?”

Terzo didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the screen, like it would change by itself. Secondo finally looked up from his phone, and Primo closed the fridge with a soft bang.

“That’s new,” Secondo remarked. “Terzo waiting for a reply from someone.”

“He’s not ‘someone’,” escaped Terzo.

Three pairs of eyes turned to him.

“I mean, it’s just…” Terzo huffed. “It was a nice night. That’s it.”

“Nice how?” Primo teased.

“Nice as in… comfortable. We didn’t let go.”

Copia raised his eyebrows.

“And you… liked that?”

“I’m not made of stone, Copia.”

The phone buzzed.

Terzo looked right away.

“I got here safe. Almost texted you earlier, but I thought you’d forgotten me.”

A small, silly smile slipped out. He shifted in his chair, a little awkward.

“He replied?” Secondo asked.

“He did.”

“Will you see him again?” Primo asked.

“I think I will,” he answered simply.

Copia snapped his fingers in the air, exaggerating:

“Gentlemen, witness the beginning of the end. Terzo is turning into a boyfriend!”

“Fuck off.”

“He even said ‘thanks for yesterday.’ He’s two steps away from writing ‘good morning, sleepyhead.’”

Terzo threw a dry piece of bread at Copia but missed badly. Suddenly, Copia grabbed Terzo’s phone from the table, making him jump forward like an animal.

“Give it back!” Terzo tried to snatch it from his hand, but Copia dodged, walking around the table like the classic sibling game of chasing around the dining table.

The youngest and oldest were standing, circling like two stalking animals.

“I’m just gonna read what you sent,” Copia said, moving left around the round table.

“Give me that damn thing, Copia!”

Before it turned into a chase all over the kitchen and not just around the table, Primo took the phone from Copia’s hand and gave it back to Terzo with a nod, like: “take it easy, Romeo.”

“It’s weird seeing you speak well of someone you hooked up with, or not ignoring them the next day. Did I say the next day? Sorry, I meant an hour after. Is that it, or am I dreaming?” Primo asked.

“It’s not a dream.” Secondo rested his elbow on the table. “It’s just the natural cycle of life: even assholes get attached eventually.”

Terzo sat back down in the chair, sighing:

“I’m not attached. It was just a nice end to the night. We talked. We laughed. And… he sleeps cuddling.”

“That’s what we call affection, Terzo,” Copia commented. “Next step is him lending you one of his band t-shirts.”

Terzo froze.

“I have my own band t-shirts,” he muttered right away, trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

“It’s not about that. It’s about the smell, idiot.” Secondo said.

Terzo frowned, like annoyed:

“Okay, enough. You guys are a pain.”

“Oh no. Now you’re going to say you’re not happy?” Primo asked, opening the fridge again, just out of habit.

“You’re screwed,” Copia pointed out, victorious.

“I’m not. I just…” Terzo looked at the phone again, pretending to check the battery, but really waiting for another message. “I’m just open to possibilities, okay?”

Secondo got up, already grabbing the car keys.

“Just remember one thing, Romeo.”

“What?”

“Hearts are like fine china. If they break, they make a hell of a noise. And here we don’t glue shit back together.”

“I thought that was poetic coming from you.” Terzo smiled crookedly.

“Go to hell.”

Copia sat down again, throwing himself exaggeratedly on Terzo’s lap.

“Oh, I love love.”

Terzo grabbed the hardest piece of bread from the basket and lightly tapped his brother’s forehead.

[voltaridylla]

High school Jimmy Valmer headcanons (Matt and Trey give him more scenes I’m begging.)

-Italian-American. Before you ask, yes, it is on his mom’s side. He also has some relatives he’s never met before living over in Italy.

-Smoked medicinal weed for a period in high school to help with his aches because of his cerebral palsy but when asked about it he played it up to be cool. He’s in his head at times so he tries to seem cooler but it works most of the time.

-This guy has like NO enemies. Literally no one has qualms about him, he even gets on with Nathan at some point - not like pals but they talk. They like to roast the hell out of eachother so it’s like frenemies but they have each other’s backs now.

-Considering in canon, I believe he’s one of the first to uh… do it. (💀) So I think in the highschool setting or we tweak canon EVER SO SLIGHTLY, his friends go to him for advice about it and depending on who it is he will either a) make it out to be terrifying and scary just to get a funny reaction or b) actually have a serious sit down chat about it.

-When he is serious, he can give very good advice. We see this in canon anyway but I think it should be mentioned.

-A giant rap fan. Specifically, g-funk and west coast - so like 2Pac, 50 Cent etcetc if you catch my drift. He had THOSE embarrassing phases where he literally mourned the loss of those names as if he was around when the news dropped and acted like he personally knew them (bro wasn’t even born then.) (I did this too with pink floyd actually and it’s really embarrassing… good lord.)

-Plays ukelele. I know this is canon but I like to imagine him playing the spongebob soundtrack songs for fun and like he does it really well.

-Has a letterboxd account and has a long consecutive ranking of the best comedies in his opinion. His reviews are essay style analysis on where the movie shines in slap-stick, line delivery etc. It’s kind of pretentious but he even made a column in the school paper talking about what movies to watch that recently dropped in theatres and it was a success.

-I’ve talked about this before but he is an anime fan. Nothing can convince me otherwise. His favourites are shit like Berserk and One Piece though and he’s super pretentious about it at times. Iykyk he probably quoted the ‘can we get much higher?’ meme too many times. He and Stan rip on each other’s favourite shows.

-Obsessed with Skeptic’s hcs for him too so I’ll snag this one - he likes to put those wired lights around his crutches depending on occassion. It’s Christmas?? Christmas lights on crutches. Prom or graduation? those pure bright lights.

-24/7 on instagram reels and sends the most diabolical ones to the groupchat. He’s knee deep in meme culture and hops on the trends so yeah, he’s seen the minecraft movie and dressed in a suit to see minions: rise of gru.

-I think in the show we see him get attached easily so I think he can be insistent on the gang meeting up often and he’s definitely felt down in the dumps before because some people couldn’t make it to whatever gathering he had planned. In saying that, he would probably be one of the best at throwing parties and highschool reunions because he cares about having a great audience.

-Out of his friends, I think he’s closest to Tolkien, Clyde and Stan. He and Tolkien like to joke together and chat shit (they probably trust eachother the most in their friend group.) Clyde is just funny because Jimmy likes to screw with him since he takes everything he says at face value. He and Stan are both nerds except Jimmy is chill about it and Stan is just a loser - they like to talk about anime and video games.

-Still close friends with Timmy!!! They go to the gym together and complain about the lack of amenities together.

-Smooth with the ladies. Uses the right jokes and by the end of the night he’ll have a girl at the hip. Also if we’re gonna get into my AU that doesn’t exist except in my head hcs, then I like to believe he and Leslie met in their early 20s but at a journalism function and they hit it off. She was more stoic while Jimmy was more expressive so they complimented each other really well. But she lived in California so they stayed long distance and met up here and there for a couple of years but eventually broke up because neither of them were happy and it was costly trying to see eachother often.

-I believe he does go into journalism in the future but actually kickstarts his comedian career because he had many funny comic strips and columns that were a giant hit and people demanded more.

Okay that’s all for now. *yawns*

[sorchathered]

In your love (part 2 of something in the orange🧡)

Pairing- Robert (Bob) Floyd x medic reader

Summary- Deployments had always been risky, this one more so than others. Bob is on edge and feeling his mortality, all he wants is to bury himself in his wife and forget the pain for a little while.

Warnings- this is 100% filth yall, smutty smut minors dni and wrap it up if ya know what I mean. Mentions of death, injuries, ptsd.

A/N- This is a part 2 of Something in the Orange, if you haven’t read it yet check it out here. Can be read without!

You could see the carrier in the distance, nervously rocking on the balls of your feet near the dock and you were dizzy with the anticipation of what was to come. Your husband had been gone 6 months on a deployment that had originally started as two. It had been an honor to be chosen from a select few pilots and WSO’s but it had broken both your hearts for you to have to stay behind with the rest of the squad. You’d moved to San Diego nearly two years before to be the Chief Medical Officer for the Dagger Squad, reuniting with the love of your life Lt. Robert Floyd. It hadn’t been long before he was on one knee, and then even less time for the two of you to head to the altar, life was too short and you’d spent too long apart to wait for the perfect time. This mission in particular had been more dangerous than others, sometimes going weeks at a time without contact and from what you had heard from the carrier there’d been significant injuries and one casualty. He’d been on edge the last few calls you’d gotten, his normal bright demeanor overpowered by short snappy answers, but he’d been quick to apologize in the next breath because that was just who Robert Floyd was; unwaveringly kind even when everything was going to shit.

You knew this reunion would be different than others and you had already been mentally preparing yourself for the weekend ahead. Prepped all his favorite meals and snacks so they could be easily accessible, bought almost an entire paycheck’s worth of fancy lingerie and primped and prepped every inch of your body to look like a perfect little housewife when he crossed the dock to meet you. He would need control after the time away and you would give him anything he wanted until he was completely sated and at peace.

He’d been pacing the dock since dawn, bunk completely spotless and packed full of nervous energy. This special mission had been too close of a call, two people on the team had been seriously injured after a dangerous ejection, and he and Phoenix were nearly caught in a jet wash during a dogfight that had him feeling his mortality. It had been hard without the rest of the Daggers and his favorite medic to keep them grounded, He needed stability more than ever right now, in all honesty would probably have to see the behavioral health counselor for a few sessions to begin the process of feeling like himself again. None of the squad had been themselves lately, holding themselves together by a thread just so they could get home to their loved ones. He could see the dock now, and his phone lit up with a text from you.

“I can see the carrier, I’ll be waiting near the lot for you baby.”

He quickly replied with trembling fingers, “Be ready for me sugar, I’ve missed you so much.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the message, the anticipation was getting the better of you squeezing your thighs together in your tiny pink sundress for some relief.

It felt like ages as he milled through the crowd, everyone rushing to meet their loved ones made the air suffocatingly heavy. He couldn’t blame them truly, if it had been a run of the mill deployment he would have wanted the same from you, but his skin was on fire and he couldn’t get out of this crowd fast enough. He caught Natasha and her girlfriend on the way out to the lot, hugging them both quickly knowing she was no doubt as weary as he was. As the crowd began to clear he finally saw you, leaning against his old truck anxiously scanning the throngs of people for him. The moment your eyes met you were on the move, rushing for him as he dropped his duffle and caught you around the waist. He breathed you in as you cried into his shoulder, you smelled like your strawberry perfume and he let it ground him. He was home, you were both safe, and everything would be ok.

He’d dropped his bags and said hello to your menagerie of animals, before plopping himself down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He made to unlace his boots but you stilled his hands, settling on your knees while you helped him remove them both. He leaned forward to steal a kiss, he’d meant it to be innocent really, but once he’d tasted your lips he needed more, hauling you up into his lap while you both disrobed with urgency, moans spilling from your lips as he tasted your tongue and slid his hands underneath your dress to find you bare for him.

“Oh good girl, you knew exactly what I needed didn’t you baby?” He said as you nodded furiously and made to remove him from his flight suit, dragging it and his briefs to his ankles. “Use me Robby, let it all out it’s ok sweetheart your home with me you’re safe now” you said as you settled back into his lap and he couldn’t hold back anymore, sliding into you was like heaven, warm, wet heat enveloping him as he fucked you hard, both of you falling over the edge in a matter of minutes, Bob stifling a cry as he bit down on your shoulder, tears of relief in both of your eyes.

You showered together which resulted in you on your knees, he hadn’t planned to need you again so quickly but his body clearly had other plans. Once you were both clean and comfortable you sat in his lap and fed him dinner, and once again he felt that familiar feeling take over, pushing the plates and cups out of the way so that he could spread you out across the table, unwrapping you from your robe like a Christmas present as his hands and mouth roamed over your neck and shoulders, littering more bruises along your collarbones and the tops of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You whined his name and pushed your chest into him as he licked and sucked there, then paid equal attention to the other. You were desperate for him as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he could feel you dripping onto his abs and leaving a wet patch over the top of his briefs while you grinded on him to find some relief.

“Please Robby, I need more- so good baby please” you fussed and moaned restlessly but he wasn’t letting up, he hadn’t tasted your skin in months and he was going to take all night if that’s what he desired, and he knew you’d let him because you needed him just as much.

He slipped his index and middle finger into your mouth to soothe you as he hushed you, beginning his descent toward your soaking wet pussy. When he finally wrapped his lips around your throbbing clit you sobbed, tears pooling from your eyes and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him impossibly harder watching you cry from pleasure. You’d always told him he went down on you like he was starving, you being the only thing that could fill that void and you couldn’t be more right. He relished in it, the noises you made, the taste of your arousal as he licked you from your hole to clit, the way you trembled and grasped his hair, all of it was the best medicine for what ailed him. You were so close, shaking thighs and sweaty limbs as you babbled nonsense at him and he had a brief thought to edge you a little longer, see how mad he could truly drive you but you’d been so good for him today so he gave in as you begged and begged for him to let you cum.

“Ok pretty baby, it’s ok shhh ‘m gonna give you what you want sweet girl” he murmured into you and then slipped his two fingers from your mouth into your aching cunt. Your back came off the table and you gasped out a shocked cry, gushing onto his hands and into his mouth, it felt like you had been pulled from your body and you couldn’t seem to come down from your high, vision blacking out at the corners and you were sure you’d lost consciousness. Bob was kissing you, that was one thing you were sure of, but you couldn’t seem to form words or use your hands to reach for him and he just chuckled at your feeble attempts to reciprocate his affections.

When you finally settled for the night he’d pulled you tightly to his body, desperate to keep the nightmares at bay with your warm embrace. Eventually he would talk about it all, how he’d thought he’d never see you again, the thought of leaving you and the baby girl you were carrying bringing a fear he’d never known to the surface. Hand pressed to your stomach as he felt her little flutters and kicks the tears finally flowed freely, his whole world was here in this bed, everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Words of reassurance and kisses pressed into his chest were enough to finally send him off to sleep, dreams no longer filled with longing, but full of hope.

Tagging people who might be interested- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @floydsmuse @floydsglasses @attapullman @sebsxphia

[gauloiseblue]

Specific songs for COD character's scenarios

I was listening to my playlist, and my brain randomly threw ideas at me. I was too lazy to write those fics, but I just had to get it out of my system. Anyway, here's a list of songs that I associate with COD characters, along with the summary of the story.

I will add more in the future, but for now, I think it's pretty much it. To the imaginariland we go.

Price

The Girl In The Yellow Dress - David Gilmour

Unwinding at a bar leads him to a pleasant meeting with a girl. Evening turns into night, as he becomes more and more enamored by the girl. Until the band stops, and she leaves him in the dark. Never once told him her name.

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Old married couple AU, where Price has retired. His kids have grown up, leaving him and his wife alone. After all they've been through—big arguments, strained relationships, and long months deployment—they realize they still love each other to the end.

Ghost

Hyper-ballad - Björk

Whenever Simon comes home, he struggles to live in normalcy. His partner is unchanging, while he's never the same man after all the missions. To keep himself grounded, he made the habit of leaving the house at the dead of the night, to stare at the darkness of the forest in the backyard. Sometimes, he lets his mind wander to the possibility of him walking into the forest and disappears, but it soon dies down when he looks back to his house.

During one of his mission at a secluded village in Germany, he encounters a strange girl by the river. She's a human, but her demeanor seems to suggest otherwise. Though he doesn't believe in myths, he begins to think that the cautionary tale of a Nymph in this village carries a grain of truth.

König

It's Possible - Piero Piccioni

There's a reason behind his lack of commitment to love, and no one knows it except for his best friend. He might’ve been too hot-headed and reckless, but he's loyal. That was until a certain girl from his childhood betrayed him. And yet, after all these years, his heart still belongs to her.

Alejandro

Eye Hate U - Prince

Before Shadow Company became what it is now, Graves had a loving wife and a perfect home. She's smart, and capable of giving him advices. Until his pride took him over, and he became neglectful, ignoring her warnings on certain missions. She left him before the Al Mazrah Incident happened, leaving him bitter and regretful.

Graves

The Next Best American Record (Demo) - Lana Del Rey

National Anthem - Lana Del Rey

In the height of his career, money was never an issue for him. He could buy any weapons he wanted, and he could afford the most luxurious lifestyle. He can still afford it, but he has to work harder for it. He doesn't mind it, after all, it's only right for him to treat his wife, right?

Young Lust - Pink Floyd

Though he refuses to admit it, his relationship with his wife has gone cold. Over years of infidelity and neglect, she decided to leave the house, and moved to her old apartment. He thought one day she'd change her mind and come back to him, until one night, he heard a man's voice when he called her on the phone.

Coming to a high-school reunion opens an old scar in him, as he sees his high-school sweetheart in the arm of another man. Their relationship was great, it was great, but sadly, she thought otherwise.

Gaz

Love Is A Laserquest - Arctic Monkeys

[biblical-chronicles]

What other music do you listen to? Are you solely Britpop?? Would love a top 10

you just opened a pandora box love, thank you it got me out of me little hole xx please discuss this with me, this is me life lmao

Interestingly, I am not brit-pop at all, more rock, punk, post-punk, metal, jazz, blues territory

If I had to list all the bands I like we'd be here for a loooong fucking time...

but here are some honourable mentions

first of all, PiL, so Public Image ltd. favourite band ever, innovative, the lyrics as well??? god Lydon knows how to write a song and make you reflect, such interesting topics. Also, love the performing style, just adds so much to the overall 'product'. All the albums offer summat different and I love that, although the earlier work is much crazier and experimental which I love. Just such a powerful discog, beautiful and unique sound, it's amazing how many songs from them seem to perfectly encapsulate how I feel, and I could go on forever here so I'll stop meself. (+ his spoken word??? Ahhhh !!!)

with PiL I have to mention the sex pistols too I guess. Love 'em so much, have the whole material ingrained in me brain. Although them going on a reunion tour without John is so meh, he was literally what made them in a way? you just can't get that tone. I think it'd be better if they did it without a vocalist, just let the audience shout the lyrics back. Should've called it just sex or just pistols or ex-pistols without him...)(or just call it the professionals reunion + glen matlock)(like ya just can't do that, what's next? the stones without jagger? dead kennedys with no jello? oh wait.. that's already a fucking thing) nevermind the bollocks... here's the three ex-pistols. It's the great rnr swindle all over again, and we are being swindled yet again, ever get the feeling that you've been cheated? (I have so much more to say here but I'll stop meself, but how fun is it to sue a man with not so much cash that's takin' care of his ill wife full-time? and to sue him with disney so he can't win? and only to win the case because the man has previously won a case for you to split the rights to the music evenly? even though he wrote most, and could've taken all the rights to it easily?) okay, now stopping meself for real, but I could write an essay here.

up next Black Sabbath, I mean come on? Megalomania is one of the best songs ever, love it !! dead crazy discog and impact, thank you tony iommi for choppin' a bit of your fingers off, so that you had to down-tune your guitar to play.

now, the beatles, I mean, I won't even start since you will not stop me as well, won't allow meself to start, nuh uh

janis joplin + big brother and the holding company when she was with them. You just can't recreate that voice, ever. What a powerhouse of an artist, love her.

another woman to add would be courtney love, you just can't stop her can ya? as much as her rebellin' is pretty pointless sometimes, that woman has some serious pipes. Love the visceral screaming and all, mostly am into the first album + live through this.

I'll also shout-out rammstein, you can't go wrong with some straight to the point brutal riffs yeah? from more german speaking bands, I like some Falco, especially the first album, so Einzelhaft, it's just the best lyrically and just so so 80's. Also, Wolfgang Ambros with 'Es lebe der Zentralfriedhof' if you want some more Wiener Schmäh.

The Clash is also great, classic. Plus it gave us Keith Levene, personal guitar hero to me, although he wasn't as involved with the band just helped with creating it / some early material / helped gettin' Joe Strummer in.

Yes is another highlight for my prog-rock fans, me dad is big on them so I had to be as well. Pink Floyd would also fit here which you just have to like, come on.

more metal-esque I am pretty big on Megadeth (better than Metallica fight me), I also went through some death / black metal phases but it didn't stick to me as much? if anything then darkthrone or cannibal corpse is alright, also death.

and since I didn't expand on punk that much I'd recommend Dead Kennedys especially fresh fruit for rotting vegetables, The Exploited, Minor Threat etc. etc. Interestingly, I am not too big on The Ramones, just a tad too 'poppy' for me (don't attack me). But the Buzzcocks are alright. Won't go into the smaller bands since I'd sit here forever once again.

Led Zeppelin as well, I fucking love Led Zeppelin!

post-punk wise, also gotta plug the talking heads in here, you just have to.

thank you, this question got me dead excited, please ask me about music recs or opinions, I am a firm believer that I have an opinion on almost everything. I can debate and talk about music forever please talk to me, please ask me to elaborate, this is me area of expertise (I need a job)

It's also a pet peeve of mine that Liam says he plays rock'n'roll? Chuck Berry, that's rock'n'roll, Little Richard also, but Liam, sweetheart, you are not within' that genre. Nowt wrong with that, just if someone got told they are in for some classic rnr, and then got wall of glass, they'd be surprised to say the least.

[weirdrandomtina]

HOW DO YOU THINK BRANCH'S BROTHERS REACTED TO HIM BEING THE KING

believe me I'm on my third reread of the fic and if it weren't for my lack of motivation and studies I would have made my own comic but-

oh wise one I need your wisdom

I need more of them

Thanks for the ask!

First of all, third reread?! Wow🥰

Secondly, I would love to see your fanart!

And lastly, to answer your question:

I imagine their reunion would start out pretty normal - the brothers coming across Branch by chance, and being all, "hey Bitty B, so good to see you, how have you been", and Branch (who they caught when he wasn't wearing his crown or cape) would just shrug, "eh, not too much, building, learning to fit in with the village, finally happy, etc..."

He'd mention his wife Poppy (cue brotherly teasing, especially from JD and Bruce), and talk about her casually. Then, some random troll would yell out, "King Branch! You're needed over here!" "Okay, I'll be right there."

He'd turn to find his four brothers staring slack-jawed at him. JD stammers, "Um, wait... what did they just call you?"

Branch shrugs again with half a smirk. "Uh, yeah. My wife is... Queen Poppy."

JD grabs Branch roughly by the shoulders. "You coulda led with that!! You're the flipping KING?!"

Bruce is in awe. "Wow. Our baby brother is leader of Troll Village."

Floyd is smiling proudly at his beloved little brother, his pale pink eyes brimming with tears.

"'Queen Poppy'... huh, funny," Clay ponders. "My best friend Viva had a little sis named Princess Pop -- waaaaait..."

Later, after intros are complete:

Poppy: "Branch! How come you never told me you have brothers?!"

Branch: "Well how come you never told me you have a sister?"

Poppy: "Pfft, don't be silly! I don't have a sister! Right, Dad?"

Peppy: "Uhhhhhh... um... Surprise?"

Poppy: "DAAAAD!!"

---Not sure if that's the kind of 'wisdom' you were looking for, but that's what came to mind😂

[groovin-in-theheart]

Trolls Au thoughts

Bruce, Clay and Floyd the ultimate brotrio + Viva💪💪

I love the "JD comes back and raises Branch" aus, but how about "Clay, Floyd and Bruce travel together" or that they accidentally meet after like 2 years of being apart. Depending on when the great escape happens, Viva, Clay and the Putt putts never get to hole n fun but rather at Vaycay Island?

They'd be horrified meeting the vacationers but eventually come around. Bruce would wash up there like weeks later. Imagine Bruce being untrusting and clinging to Clay and Viva until he meets Brandy.

Floyd could possibly get word of a whole bunch of colourful trolls chilling in Vaycay Island saying they've escaped bergen town. When he arrives the reunion between Bruce, Clay and Floyd would be sweet but also like "WAIT YOU LEFT TOO?!"

I could see all of them staying together and being very tight knit. Ofc they worry for Branch and Grandma(yes even JD) but since the escape went somewhat well they'd like to think that Branch and Grandma are safe and happy.

Theres SO much stuff i could write about this au, mostly Fluff cuz angst is tougher to write about😔 I imagine their lives there would essentially being a fun slice of life(but ofc a pinch of angst) and maybe even Floyd choosing to travel around setting up his solo career, I'd say it's going very very well, OH and he has a stage name, Pink Sivan(y'know like Pink Floyd and Troye Sivan)

[dolliebabydoll15]

Floyd x Boom fanfic!

this is my first oneshot, i hope you enjoy! 🫶

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the end of a brodacious reunion concert at Vacay Island, for the crowd had gone their separate ways, as well as Viva and Poppy to spend much-needed quality time with their father. That left only BroZone, who had gone backstage to collect their things before leaving.

"We did it brothers! I knew we could do it!" said an enthusiastic John Dory.

"Finally, some praise." joked Bruce.

"Hey, can't you see I'm trying here?" snickered JD.

The brothers laughed, and suddenly, they saw Branch's buddies, Hype, Ablaze, Trickee, and Boom, who had performed with them. They were also there to clear backstage of their belongings. JD, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd were still just as amazed as they were when their little bro first introduced them.

"Branch...you wouldn't mind it if we offically met them, would you?" asked Clay.

Branch chuckled. "Sure, I have to go pick up the clue board anyway. Gonna take me a rough 15 minutes or something..."

The brothers smiled, and scampered off to get to know the boy band phenomenon known as Kismet.

Floyd suddenly noticed Boom, the rainbow-haired glitter troll whom he had seen before the concert.

"Hi," greeted Floyd.

"H-hi," Boom replied.

"You did great out there." said Floyd.

"Thanks, took me about 3 weeks to learn the choreo," said Boom. "I kept stepping on Hype's feet," he uttered embarrassingly.

Floyd giggled. "So, how did you meet Branch anyway?" he asked.

"Oh, we're childhood buds, we performed with him a lot after...you and your brothers left him." Boom responded melancholicly. Floyd saddened, remembering that woeful night.

"So...what's your story?" inquired Boom.

"Mine?" Floyd asked, surprised.

Boom nodded. Normally, Floyd was the one asking when it came to talking about emotional stories.

"Well, when I left BroZone to follow my heart and pursue a solo career, it got cut short when I was captured by a phony pair of popstars, Velvet and Veneer, for my talent. Every time they sucked up a piece of my talent, I lost a little bit of my life. This went on for 2 months, but I later noticed that Veneer, one of the phonies, wasn't as bad as I thought he was. He was really trying to make his sister happy, despite Velvet not caring about him at all. I told him that he shouldn't be around people who treat him like garbage, and no one should try to change him, but he didn't get the message until my brothers banded together with my little bro's girlfriend and her sister to form a family harmony to set me free. Unfortunately, since I gave the last of my talent to pitch in, I almost died."

Boom looked as if he were on the verge of tears.

"Don't worry, my brothers revived me with family love. Then, Veneer confessed to the crimes he and Velvet had done. He had a change of heart, but had to go the big house to serve his time. I hope he finds people who treat him with kindness. Afterwards, I forgave my older brothers and rebanded. So yeah, that's my story."

"Wow...I'm sorry all of that happened to you."

"It's okay, I only have the present to focus on now," Floyd responded with a smile, and looked at his brothers, cheerfully socializing with the other members of Kismet.

"Hey guys! We should go now," called Branch. Poppy's definitely gonna go looking for me if we don't leave now," he muttered under his breath.

"Bye, it was nice meeting you!" Floyd said as he got up to leave.

Boom suddenly realized he forgot the most important thing to say when you meet someone. "Wait! I...never got your name."

"Floyd."

"OH MY GOSH, THAT'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL NAME I'VE EVER HEARD!" Boom exclaimed in enchantment. Just then, he realized he replied in a way that was a tad extreme.

Floyd blushed in a shade of rosy pink. "Thank you," he replied with a grin. "What's yours?"

"Boom."

"Nice name," replied Floyd.

They shared a smile and locked eyes. They were so into the moment that they couldn't hear Kismet's mischievous laughs or see BroZone's knowing smiles.

"Floyd! Let's go!" shouted Branch.

"Bye,"

"Bye."

As the two groups dispersed, John Dory put his arm around Floyd.

"Well brother, I think this is the start..."

~~~~

"...of a beautiful friendship!" Trickee chimed. Boom nodded agreeably.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

note: sooo, i've had this idea in my head since last night. if you want to give me ideas on how i could do better, tell me in the replies. should I write more in the future?

[gwynbleiddyn]

helloooo I'm here for the oc kisses 💕 i would like to submit a nin and rion reunion kiss 👀 no theme/flavor in particular (i trust you completely tbh), and as a song i'll give you 'Once in a long long while' byt Low Roar, not one which represents nin best, but it's one that i really like and have been listening to a lot lately haha

<3333 PERFECT CHOICE NO NOTES, and i really enjoyed this song!! thank you my friend, i had so much fun with this one (read: fun for me, potentially horrifying for everyone else in the vicinity, the peacocks escaped WHAT CAN I SAY)

plus recommended listening for this one:

------

time is a tide that disobeys; part 1

oc kiss week 2025 prompt fill ft. Nin Lavellan -- Rion encounters a brief reunion on the walls of Adamant in the wake of a cataclysmic siege that leaves more questions than answers.

Adamant. 

A crumbling reminder of the Wardens and their legacy, long besieged by demons and slowly being reclaimed by the desert that it once protected. Now, the Inquisition’s long reach has claimed it for itself, its iron hand indiscriminate as to who it smothers beneath its grasp. 

The Warden Commander reaches for a handhold in the stone as he ascends a final staircase from where the Fade spat him out. His hand, silverite-gloved and heavy, crushes fragile rock, but enough of it remains for him to pull his aching body past a missing chunk of a staircase, blown out by weaponry fired at his own command.

Somewhere below, Erimond waits in chains. As far as Rion can see, Wardens lie dead along every wall and every staircase, pointless sacrifices. Behind him in the gullet of the Fade, now closed, Hawke fights a battle they cannot win.

Nearly all of this is him. His voice. His word. His tactician’s guile, served up on a platter to the Inquisitor who could only pick from death or death. A part of him grieves that, in all of this, it isn’t ever life he can offer. 

He continues upwards, and Rion’s boot kicks aside rubble as he plants one foot in front of the other, the Fade rolling off of him in waves in his wake - a slow arrow through the rolling fog, otherwise impenetrable. His skin hums with a faint melody he cannot quite hear, but he knows it well. The Fade is not new to him. He has walked in it and around it for as long as he can recall, and its mercurial form is what gives the waking world its sound in Rion’s eyes.

Stone scrapes across his vision, white and stark. It is consumed by a bubble of black and grey, bulging and popping as flames break around him. There is no mighty roar of falling towers or heaving groan of a collapsing foundation here, no sound, just light, painting the slow decay of a lifetime.

He stares down at Adamant in ruin. No desert sandstorm could polish its stone to diamond now.

Both hands braced on the parapet wall, Rion lets a heavy sigh escape his chapped, dry lips. He’s parched, throat about as dry as the desert they’re in, and the adrenaline keeping his aches at bay is beginning to ebb dangerously. Sweat beads at his brow as nearby flames lick at his skin, and he can see them out of the corner of his eye - that black and grey on the edge of his vision, bubbling away, drawing closer. 

It is a different kind of fire that makes him lift his heavy head. Brighter. More vivid. White-gold, molten, as if someone had squeezed the sunlight like juice from a sweet orange and offered him a drink.

Warm, warm hands are at his face in an instant before Rion has a chance to greet Nindarhmen as he deserves. A kiss meets his cheek, then the other, then lips, and there are words spoken against him that he cannot hear, but he can feel the relief in them. 

“Nin,” Rion mumbles, reluctant to pull away, but eager to see him. He is granted a little space, enough to catch sun-gold eyes and the familiar framing of white vallaslin along his skin, patterns that Rion could recall even if all other senses were lost to him. 

“You didn’t return with the others,” Nin says, in gentle threads of orange. They’re easy for Rion to grasp and pluck from the air, easy to read, easy to know. He reads the silent question left within, and nods in acknowledgement. He’d slipped away when Thalon had his attention elsewhere on the field, a steady hand guiding the chaos spilling out of the tear in reality. Racing through the fortress after Erimond hadn’t left much time to take stock of whose blood soaked the ground, and Rion wanted to see it for himself. 

“I needed a moment,” Rion admits. He is armor-clad, both in person, and in spirit. Nin looks at him, brows raising gently with suspicion that he keeps to himself, and Rion only offers a thin and weary smile. “This isn’t the only Warden outpost I’ve watch go down in flames.”

“Ah,” Nin sighs gently, recognizing the shadow of Amaranthine in Rion’s words. 

“It’s fine, Nin. It’s– it’s fine. I just wanted to see…” See what? Rion isn’t sure. The cost of it all? To recognize some dead faces, to shore up his guilt in case it wasn’t enough already? He doesn’t really have an answer, and he find himself reaching for Nin’s hands still gently cradling his face. Even through gloves, he can feel Nin’s fire lingering beneath fingertips and he turns his face to kiss one palm, and then the other, where he seems to freeze in place as his eyes meet a dead, glassy stare of a Warden on the ground whose legacy will die with this fortress. 

Here, Rion’s breath shudders, and his armour is rent asunder. It is a vulnerable, awful place to stand, and he wishes he were anywhere else at all. 

The faintest hint of pressure at his jaw turns his gaze back on Nin, who then lowers his hands to clasp at Rion’s elbows instead, fixing him in place, stopping him from stumbling down a familiar and unforgiving path. 

“Vir dirthera, Rion,” Nin tells him, gentle and reassuring, but there is no room for argument either. “The past grows still and quiet no matter which way you leave it behind, and all it can do is shape your future. So we tell the tales, regardless of how they end.”

Fighting Nin’s wisdom would be a battle already lost for Rion. But he is used to fighting losing battles, is he not? He’s been in one from the start. 

“Every choice they had in life was taken from them and they died as traitors. Do we tell that story too?” 

Rion’s fingers twitch, restless and angry, but uncertain. Moments later, Nin’s hands find his own.

“Yes, we do. And the ones that will follow - we are not done yet.” Nin squeezes Rion’s hands. “Thalon has Erimond. I suspect his mind is already made in the matter of the magister’s fate, but I think he needs your heart in this decision too.”

“He doesn’t need… I…” Rion’s brow scrunches, eyes closing as he struggles to find the words. He takes a breath, steadying himself, using Nin’s presence as a tether, and tries again. “My heart’s just angry, Nin. Doesn’t have much room for anything else anymore.”

That’s a lie, and they both know it. Nin and Thalon both hold space there, comfortably, without question, in amongst the labyrinth of complexities Rion attempts to simplify into a single, hard, unbreakable line. 

Nin’s smile holds that knowledge safe. He will allow Rion his armour for the moment if it lets him walk out of Adamant in one piece.

“Then maybe anger has its place today. Come,” Nin nods over his shoulder, gesturing for Rion to follow as he begins to turn away. Rion keeps hold of one of his hands, however, and gently asks for him to pause a moment as he closes the distance and kisses him again, far too gently for a man who only has anger in his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Nin hums gently in appreciation, eyes searching for a reason in Rion’s face as he steps away, gesturing for Nin to lead the way once more. 

“For what?”

An impossible question to answer. 

Rion smiles back at him. 

[toon-tales]

Hiya! I'm back with another, as you can tell, Trolls fic, cause, well, you can never get enough, am I right?

Now, this one is a bit different cause it's the first time I write about something other than Broppy... DawnDory!

Anyway, reviews are always appreciated, enjoyyyy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perfect

"I'm sorry, Delta…"

"But… I thought you loved me…"

"I do! I really do! I just… I can't take any responsibilities right now, alright?"

"Am I really a burden to you?"

"It's not your fault, it's mine! I am the problem, not you!"

"You wanna be alone? Be alone."

—------------

John's eyelids flung wide, his form erupting into an upright stance with the suddenness of a thunderclap. He drew in the morning air, a deep, steadying torrent that filled his lungs, whispering a silent mantra to calm the tempest within. Inhale. Exhale. It was nothing more than a dream, a figment woven from the threads of a restless mind. A mere dream, he reassured himself, yet it clung to his consciousness with the vividness of reality.

He sighed as he leaned back against the cushions.

This was the day.

The turquoise-haired forced himself to his feet, grabbing the usual leather jacket and red goggles and getting ready for the day. He opened his bedroom door, the faint creek alarming his brothers of his presence. He walked in with slow, sluggish steps, yawning and stretching still. Bruce lazily got up to make him his plate, while Clay and Floyd only gave weak waves of their hands. Branch didn't even look up, as expected.

"Mornin', guys," John mumbled, taking a seat between the youngsters.

Then silence rang again in the room. Awkward silence, you can call it. But this wasn't new, things were different now, and the Brozone members have been trying to reconnect since the reunion. Even if it was a bit difficult at times.

"So," Clay was the first to speak. There was a small grin on his face as he muttered, "Which chapter are you in now?"

John's eyes lit up. "I don't remember, but it's the one where Charles gets arrested."

"First or second time?"

"He gets arrested again?!"

The lime-haired troll looked away with a slight cough. "Oops."

"Bro, you spoiled it!"

"I didn't know you read that slow!"

"That hurts, man…" the older said dramatically. "I read at my own pace."

Branch's eyes darted between his bickering brothers. "Tale of two cities?" he guessed. They nodded.

"Does he know that Sydney d-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" John covered his ears and closed his eyes. "I don't want any spoilers!"

Branch smirked, eyes still fixed on his meal. "So, Clay, how did you feel about the part where-"

"Stop it, Branch!"

The duo exchanged small smiles.

"So, what did you plan for tonight's party?" Bruce chimed in. "Poppy's counting on us."

And it seemed like the question summoned fire inside the eldest's eyes. "I made the ultimate playlist!" he exclaimed excitedly, vocalizing the' ultimate' for dramatic effect. "We'll burn the stage tonight!"

The other Brozone members exchanged knowing smirks.

—------------

"Now, we have blue cupcakes for the Techno trolls, red ones for the Rock trolls, and orange ones for the Country trolls, purple ones for Funk…" Poppy trailed off, trying to recall the colors that should be on the table. She was missing two. "And… who else?"

"Classic and Pop?" Branch suggested with a knowing smile.

"Oh, yeah!" The girl beamed. "We need yellow and pink cupcakes!" She made her way to the kitchen for the third time that day, her eyes scanning the counter for the familiar small vials. She let out a loud, "Found them!" as she held them in her hands.

Branch looked on as his girlfriend poured countable droplets of yellow in a batter-filled bowl then handed it to him while she stirred her own pink. His gaze darted between the two bowls. "You sure this much food coloring isn't unhealthy?" he asked.

She waved him off. "Branch, I eat tons of colorful cupcakes every day and I'm perfectly fine!"

"If you say so, then," he muttered, finally bringing the spoon back and forth between the mixture.

"Make sure you stir in the same direction." 

He nodded.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Poppy suddenly exclaimed, pulling out another bowl seemingly out of thin air. "I made some for you!"

The dull troll raised an eyebrow. "For me?"

"Mhm!" she hummed. "Zero food coloring and a teeny tiny bit of sugar! Just like you like it!"

"Oh…" He didn't expect that. "Thanks, Poppy."

Her smile widened. "So, how are things with your bros?"

"Good, I guess." Branch replied simply.

Poppy paused. This wasn't his usual calm tone. This was a sad one. "Hey, is everything alright?"

He nodded.

"Is… is Floyd getting worse or something…?"

"No, no," he quickly assured her, "It's John, actually…"

"John?"

"Yeah…" Branch stopped. He didn't know how to explain it. "He's been… off…"

"Off, how?" Poppy persisted.

"I don't know how to explain it… he's been acting weird since the day you told us you were throwing this party."

"Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"I did!" Branch exclaimed. "But he always brushes me off!"

"Maybe he just needs time." Poppy moved closer to her boyfriend, gently brushing the flour that had managed to stick to his cheek with her thumb before she went to grab the frosting. His hand was on the exact spot she had touched when she was placing a tray of the treat in front of him.

He slowly rested his palm on the tray, his cheek getting slightly cold as the breeze hit it again. "You think?" he asked in a small voice. Poppy nodded.

"You only began to open up to me a few months ago," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but… we're trying to reconnect, and he's not helping us."

Poppy pondered for a minute. "Maybe he's mad at something?"

"More like sad." He didn't even know he had this feeling about his brother.

—------------

Red like the berries he was holding was her hair.

A shade of green he didn't quite know the name of was her fancy tail. It was the same as his hair, though not really the same.

He smiled faintly when he stumbled upon another flower. Orange petals, deep green leaves, just like her skin and eyes. Now the palette in his head was complete.

Perfect, as he liked to call it.

Delta was perfect, unconditionally perfect, for some reason, and John sometimes found himself mesmerized by the effect the country troll had on him. Why did all the standards of 'Perfect' fall out when it came to her?

In the quiet moments of twilight, when the world seemed to hold its breath, John Dory's thoughts would invariably drift to Delta Dawn. She was a melody that lingered in the air long after the song had ended, a tapestry of colors in a world that often appeared monochrome to him. Her laughter was a symphony, her smile a beacon; she was the embodiment of a serenity he had known only in fleeting moments. It was in her presence that the cacophony of his insecurities fell silent, where the relentless pursuit of perfection seemed to pause, and for a moment, everything was enough.

John often pondered the enigma that was Delta. She was like the sun - radiant, life-giving, and yet, impossible to hold. Yet he had let her go when he had her in his amrs. She was the gentle pull of the moon on the tides of his heart, a force that moved him in ways he couldn't understand. Her spirit was untamed, a river that flowed with a purpose all its own, carving paths through the bedrock of his defenses. In her eyes, he saw the reflection of a man he could be, free from the chains of doubt that shackled him.

The day he left her was a day the music died within him. The colors of the world dimmed, and he wandered through life in a grayscale landscape, haunted by the ghost of her perfection. He had convinced himself that he was unworthy, that his flaws were canyons too vast to cross, that his love was too shallow to quench the thirst of someone so profound. Yet, in the solitude of his regret, he realized that Delta never sought perfection; she sought him, just as he was, with all his imperfections.

Delta was the dream he dared not dream, for fear it would crumble under the weight of reality. She was the question to which he had no answer, the puzzle whose pieces he held but couldn't place. In her absence, he learned that perfection wasn't a destination but a journey, one that they could have embarked on together, discovering the beauty in the imperfections that made them uniquely themselves.

Now, as the years have passed, the memory of her is a bittersweet refrain that echoes in the hollows of his heart, somehow still pulling him from the grips of a gray heart, a gray form. He now knows that it was not her perfection that he loved, but the way she made the ordinary extraordinary, the way she saw the world not as it was, but as it could be. And though she may never want to have a word with him, she remains the compass that guides him, the north star in the constellation of his life's journey.

For John, Delta Dawn will always be the one that got away, not because she was perfect, but because she was real. She was the love that slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, a reminder of what could have been if only he had been brave enough to hold on. And in every sunset, in every whisper of the wind, he hears the faintest trace of her song, calling him to remember, to hope, and perhaps, to love again.

And that's what he was going for.

Her love.

Her forgiveness.

—------------

He had to find her.

John's gaze wandered through the place, the lights being an obstacle with their blinding colors and hues. But he could swear he had just seen her. Where did she go? She was just there, right in front of him!

"Delta-"

"You're John Dory from Brozone, right?"

"Can I have an autograph?"

"Is it true you're making a performance tonight?"

A sea of questions, one the leader didn't quite know how to answer, or where to begin, for that matter.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied hastily, not sure what he was saying. His eyes were still on her-he lost her!

"Can you let me through?" It came out more furious than he had intended. But it went unnoticed by the small crowd around him, they were more focused on his frantic steps as he managed to escape the circle they had trapped him in.

"Where is she?" John muttered to himself, turning around like a madman as his eyes longed to spot the familiar red hair, or green tail, or-

"Looking for someone, John Dory?"

"Delta-" John's voice trembled as he turned around, his gaze locking onto the cascade of familiar fierce red hair that had haunted his dreams for years. The party around them seemed to fade into a hush, the laughter and music dimming into the background as he took a tentative step forward. His heart was a frenzied drummer, pounding against the walls of his chest with a mix of dread and longing. Years had passed, years filled with the echo of her name and the weight of his own insecurities that had driven him away.

And now he was facing her again.

"Delta, I–" he tried again, his voice stronger, but the words clung to his tongue, heavy with the gravity of what he needed to say. He needed her to know that not a day had gone by that he hadn't thought of her, that the void she left was as vast and as desolate as a night sky without stars.

Delta's arms were crossed in an impatient manner at this point. It only added to his anxiety.

He had rehearsed this moment, practiced the lines, but now they seemed inadequate, pale imitations of the torrent of emotions that threatened to overflow. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he was a fool, that he had let his insecurities dictate the course of a love that was meant to be timeless.

As he finally found the courage to hold her hands, the world around them seemed to pause, the air charged with the electricity of a moment that held the power to change everything. "Delta, please," he whispered, his voice laced with a vulnerability that he had never allowed himself to show. "I left because I was afraid–afraid that I wasn't enough, that I couldn't be the man you deserved."

The confession hung between them, a fragile bridge over a chasm of years and unspoken words. He saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the dawning realization of the depth of his regret. He didn't need to say more; the truth was there, laid bare for her to see, a silent plea for redemption.

He waited for words he hadn't yet spoken to sink into her, with bated breath and a hopeful heart, only to hear the words he had long feared to hear.

"I'm sorry, John." She turned away, ready to leave the past troll. But he was holding her wrist, silently begging her to stop, a touch she wanted to run away from yet found herself leaning into.

"Delta, please, just-"

"Just what, John Dory?" Delta's voice was a soft murmur, like the gentle babble of a brook, carrying years of unspoken words and emotions. "You left without a word, without a reason that I could understand. And now you return, speaking of mistakes as if they were pebbles on the road, easily kicked aside."

John looked at her, eyes a mirror of regret, reflecting the past they had shared, a past filled with music and laughter, now tinged with the silence of absence. "I know," he said softly, "but I'm here now, just give me a chance."

And seeing no attempt to speak from the girl, he went on, "Delta, I know I can't change the past, but I'm here to face it, to face you," John said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I left because I was afraid, afraid of how deeply I felt for you, afraid that I wasn't perfect."

"And here you go again with the perfect-"

"I'm changing, I promise I'm changing."

Delta's eyes searched his, looking for the sincerity that had been missing before. "John, love isn't about being perfect, it's about being real, being here," she replied, her voice softening.

"I know that now, Delta. And I'm here, real and raw and ready to be whatever we need to be," John reached out, hoping for a connection.

Delta hesitated, then allowed herself to lean into his touch. "We have a lot to work through, John. But maybe, just maybe, we can start with trust," she whispered.

John nodded, the relief evident in his eyes. "I want that, Delta. I promise, no more secrets between us."

"And I want to believe what you're saying," Delta said, a tentative smile forming, before it was replaced with a frown. "But I need more time."

John felt her grip slowly slipping from his, and he could swear the chills of the night started to turn his hands cold once again, now that their shelter wasn't here anymore.

The air was thick with the electric buzz of the party, a cacophony of laughter and chattering Trolls, but for John Dory, the world had narrowed down to the space between him and Delta Dawn. The music, a melody that once bound them in happier times, now played like a serendipitous plea for reconciliation. As Delta's fingers began to loosen their grip, a silent testament to the chasm his insecurities had wrought, John felt the weight of his past decisions anchoring him to a moment he wished to rewrite.

"Wait," he said, his voice barely a whisper over the music, but it reached her, a soft command. Delta paused, her fiery gaze locking with his, an entire conversation passing in the silence that enveloped them. Then a song swelled, a familiar tune they both knew, and in a move that surprised them both, John extended his hand once more. "Dance with me?"

It was a question, a hope, and why did she stop? Delta, whose heart had been a fortress, felt the walls tremble with the notes of her favorite song. It was as if the universe conspired to remind her of the rhythm they once shared, a dance of two souls intertwined by choice and chance. Her anger, justified as it was, began to ebb, replaced by a curiosity for the future they could still pen together.

She still loved him.

She hesitated, but a gentle, "Just like old times?" from her ex made her rethink the decision she was about to voice out loud.

She placed her hand in his, the party around them blurring into a whirl of colors and the other Trolls fading into the background. They moved to the music, a dance that was both a memory and a discovery, a blend of what was and what could be. John led with a gentle certainty he hadn't felt in years, and Delta followed, her movements a mix of hesitation and hope.

With each step, each turn, they wove a silent promise to listen, to understand, to forgive. The dance became a dialogue, their bodies speaking the words their voices had yet to find. And as the song reached its crescendo, John and Delta found themselves not at an end, but at a precipice of a new beginning, a chance to leap into the unknown, together. The music may fade, the party may end, but the dance, their dance, could well be eternal.

—------------

Branch was watching, nibbling on the special treat his girlfriend had made for him, and the two-person crowd he was looking at was none the wiser. John seemed happy, much to his surprise. He hadn't seen the usual mischievous smile for days, and something inside him was happy for his oldest brother. He didn't even realize Poppy was there until her lips made contact with his cheek.

"Hey," she said softly as she broke the sweet gesture, her plan having worked.

"Hey, you." Branch's attention was solely on her now. "Any news?"

"Do you like it?" she asked, pointing towards the cupcake in her boyfriend's hand. A simple nod, and she knew she had nailed it.

Then her face suddenly lit up. "Are you ready? Brozone's supposed to be on stage in, about, five minutes!" She looked around. "Where are your brothers?"

Branch's eyes scanned the place, not taking long before recognizing the familiar palette, minus one, scattered around the place. "Clay's with Viva, Floyd's with Satin, Bruce is probably in the kitchen, still checking on the food, I'm here…" He paused, looking ahead. "John's there."

The pink troll followed his gaze, and almost immediately, her face broke into a wide grin. "Wow, I didn't know John is so social."

"Neither did I." Though this was never how you would see two people who have just met dancing, though. "I don't think this is their first interaction."

"We didn't know other Troll tribes existed until only a few months ago."

"We have different pasts, Poppy." He smiled, faint as it was. "Maybe we didn't. Maybe he did. Who knows?"

She shrugged, climbing and sitting on the empty spot of the long table, making sure she was still near her partner. "Do you want me to postpone you and your brothers' performance?"

"That would be nice." Their fingers were intertwined, a gesture this time made by the male. "Thanks, Poppy." His gaze shifted to the couple dancing in the distance once more.

John Dory was happy.

[ramshackle-ramblings]

Master Post

Links to fics posted here, organized by story thread, or if they’re just oneshots.

Beginning:

Alise shows up at Night Raven College at the beginning of the winter semester.

Chapter One: Arrival

Chapter Two: First Day of School

Chapter Three: First Period

Chapter Four: Mouse

Chapter Five: Alise

Chapter Six: Reunion

Chapter Seven: Well-Fed

Chapter Eight: A Short Walk

Chapter Nine: P.E.

Chapter Ten: Potions

Chapter Eleven: Of Pomegranates and Pink Things

Chapter Twelve: Going On A Leona Hunt

Chapter Thirteen: Spelldrive

Chapter Fourteen: Scarabia

Chapter Fifteen: Study Sesh

Harveston:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Baby Panick!! :

Based on this comic from @waterthatsmoe.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Fishy Business:

Alise found a medieval bestiary in the library, the kind filled with pictures drawn by people who may have never seen an animal in their lives. But it is also in Latin. This one is full of pictures of fish and other aquatic animals. So, obviously, Floyd is the best person to identify them. An epistolary story in multiple parts.

Okay, it's not really a story, I just wanted to use the word "epistolary".

First Fish

Second Fish

Third Fish

Fourth Fish

Fifth Fish

Sixth Fish

Seventh Fish

Eighth Fish

Ninth Fish

Tenth Fish

Eleventh Fish

Twelfth Fish

Thirteenth Fish

Fourteenth Fish

Fifteenth Fish

Sixteenth Fish

Oneshots:

Headache

Sleeping Together

Right-Side Down

An Unacceptable Accessory

Ocean

Homesick

Mushroom Chowder

Cheese Fries

A Little Run-In

Poor Timing

A Little Light Reading

Maze

Happy? New Year

Bugs

Mouse Name Reveal: Idia

Mouse Name Reveal: Arlani (Arlani belongs to @sunnysidesevenup)

Birthdays:

Happy Birthday, Jack!

Happy Birthday, Trey!

Happy Birthday, Jade & Floyd!

Happy Birthday, Rook!

Happy Birthday, Tilly! (with @sunnysidesevenup's oc, Tilly)

Happy Birthday, Idia!

Happy Birthday, Lilia!

Happy Birthday, Malleus!

Happy Birthday, Arlo! (for another of @sunnysidesevenup's ocs, Arlo)

Happy Birthday, Arlo! (to Arlo, from Mouse)

Clubs:

Basketball Club

Mountain Lover's Club

Equestrian Club

Spelldrive Club

Pop Music Club

Fan Events:

Everend's Cove; Moonlight Song:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

x Reader

It's Been A Long Day

Character Info:

Alise: Notes

Alise: Out of Context Song Lyrics

[keitorinrose]

can you tell us about your trolls x su au or tell us the basics of the story?

Sure! There probably won't be a lot of details because there's a lot of things i still need to figure out.

The idea for the au came because i remembered the song drift away and thought "this is so floyd and branch" and then it spiralled from there. None of this is final btw. things can and probably will change because I don't make aus often. 💀 Also don't think too hard about the su part of this au. Im probably only gonna use the basic parts of it and will barely use anything from the show because I'm mostly focusing on the movie of su and not the serie and epilogue.

I currently only have the roles for the main characters so

Branch is Spinel

Floyd is Steven (but he's still the one who makes the promise with branch even though in su that was pink diamond and not steven.)

Clay is Amethyst

Spruce/Bruce is Pearl

And JD is Garnet

I want to add viva, poppy and brandy too but I don't know which characters they would be yet.

So brozone breaks up. JD, spruce and clay leave and before floyd goes he makes the promise with branch, he stays and one day he'll come back for him. Years pass by and floyd still hasn't returned. Branch's colors are becoming duller as the years go by, he starts doubting himself but never fully gives up hope.

Here's where i struggle a bit with the story because i don't have a reason yet why floyd never came back. At some point floyd reunites with the others but idk the reason yet why branch isn't part of that reunion.

Just like in the song drift away i want branch to get a message that shows floyd and the others so that he realises that he's been abandoned and that floyd broke the promise. That's when branch would go grey. (Idk if I'm adding rosiepuff in this au)

So this is when the su plot comes in. Branch comes with the injector. He fights brozone and in the process everyone gets reset except floyd. When they get reset they're back into their roles before brozone broke up. So clay is back to being the funboy, spruce the heartthrob and jd the leader. With branch i think he would act more childlike or innocent? Because im not gonna make an adult act like a baby 💀

So now floyd has to figure out how to turn his brothers back to normal. I think the order of who comes back is gonna be the same as the movie so clay->bruce->branch->JD.

Oh and the others didn't know about the promise. they didn't know that branch stayed in the garden all those years, Floyd never told them.

Have not thought yet how floyd brings them back.

After clay gains his memory back they go back to the injector and try to turn it off when they realise it's harming the land. They make it worse and now the injector is going faster(?) So they realise they NEED branch to get his memory back or else they can't turn it off.

when floyd manages to bring branch's memory back they talk and he's on their side. He removes the injector and everything seems to be going fine. It's then when branch fears he is going to be abandoned again and thinks floyd will reset him again after he removed the injector so they fight. Somewhere during that JD gets his memory back too. I think most of this part from the movie I won't change. So floyd and branch fight one to one. Floyd sings the song "change" maybe? Idk yet. Branch saying that he can't just make everything better just because he sang a song. He tries to continue fighting floyd but he tires himself out so then this scene happens

I am changing the lines though. I think something like "i just want my brothers back." Idk

I think that's all i have at the moment. I'll add more to this post if i think of anything. Most of my ideas for this au was me looking at spinel clips and thinking "oh i can draw that with branch!"

I hope this is readable because I'm writing this during midnight and am NOT good at explaining stuff. 💀

If anyone has ideas i would love to hear it! because im not good at figuring stuff out