#Rock prince branch

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Burning Branches au - PART 2!!! Enter Brozone

Okay, so if anyone is reading this AU summery before my first post on the topic, you will not understand what is going on. So, yourself a favor and find post 1, it's by the same title, just without the big, "PART 2" on it. just go to my profile and use the tag "Burning Branches au"

Char=Branch to remind everyone.

Now for everyone else, let's pick up back where we left off...

The wedding day, starts out normal enough. Char manages to identify the pod he was hatched in, he Poppy and Barb go inside, to remises on memories he doesn't know, and try and find something to connect himself to this practical stranger who saved his life. Char finds a picture of him and the woman, from when he was a young child. Poppy is supportive, saying that the elderly troll must've loved Char very much. Barb, says that she was a bad*** for saving Char the way she did. Poppy ends up finding some Brozone albums, and said that she had a good taste in music, to the now very confused royal rock siblings.

The ceremony came all too soon. Satin and Chelie, along with Bridget and Barb helped Poppy, get dressed. While Peppy, Riff and Thrash (although he's not doing much), are helping Char prepare. They get to the part of vows, Poppy in a bright colorful dress, Char in a leather suit with his guitar on his back. Cooper is officiating for some reason. and then...

"Stop the Wedding!"

Out of the sky came flying in one John Dory in all of his lack-of-self-awareness glory. Char asks if Poppy knows this guy, she shakes her head, Cooper mumbles that he hadn't gotten to the objection part of the ceremony, and Barb stands up looking ready to throw hands.

JD does not notice the tense angry and confused atmosphere he's created, instead going on about how he's looking for someone named, "branch", until his eyes settle on Char and he lights up. Que the movie antics that JD does in canon, upon seeing his little brother. Completely missing the fact that Char does not recognize him. Barb gets involved the moment the butt slap happens, because that is not okay. She drags John off of Char and pins him to the ground demanding that he explain himself before she throughs him into the bowels of the volcano to forever rot.

John Panics, starts calling Char for help, to get the crazed Rock troll off of him. Char is like "Am I supposed to know you?"

This makes JD freeze, and the older troll starts calling out to Char in every nickname he can remember, but Char just shakes his head. Poppy chimes in, asking the important question of who John was. John answers that he's Char' brother. Everyone is confused. Poppy askes if they for got to invite this one, Char just shakes his head. Barb laughs at the claim and presses John further into the ground. Something clicks then for Poppy and she tells barb to let him up, and then id's him as John Dory.

Barb snorts when Poppy calls him old. Then she annouces for her guard to "Take this lune who tried to claim to be a member of the Rock Royal family and interrupted her brothers wedding."

John panics, and not just because the guards are coming towards him, but because he realized that not only was his baby brother getting married, but he just ruined the wedding. Just as the guards seize him, Char tells them to wait.

"Can you prove it? IF you're my bio-brother can you prove it?"

"Char?" Barb said, "What are you doing?"

"On the off chance he's telling the truth, this might be my only way to get some answers."

"Answers?" John chimed in, "Answers to what Bitty B? Look I should've figure you'd be angry. After all we didn't leave on the best of terms and I just uh...kind of ruined your wedding-also how did this happen?-"

"Cut to the chase!" Char snapped, "Do you have proof? or do I need to let my sister do as she pleases."

"Sister? She's not..."

"Get on with it!" Barb snapped.

"Okay!"

John continues to pull out pictures of him and his brothers form inside of his vest coat. (the dude has clay's underwear memorialized, pictures in his pocket isn't far off). Char reacts poorly to an image of him, he can recognize himself as an infant, in the arms of pink-haired troll that he doesn't known but feels familiar. A migraine comes on and he passes out while trying to process everything. Needless to say this escalated the incident further, and Poppy's screaming for a doctor, John is now fighting the guards only to fail and get taken away at Barb's order, and the crowds are both a mix of mild shock/panic and loving the drama.

Barb is both frantic and on a mission. After ensuring that Char is okay just overwhelmed and unconscious, and that her dad is in safe hands, she goes to confront her new prisoner. She finds John panic pacing around his cell, and he turns to her immediately asking if his brother is okay. Barb growls at him, but says that Char will make a full recovery, and that it was just his condition acting up. John began demanding to know what type of condition his brother has in a panic wondering if his Bitty B had been sick all these years. Barb shoots back that she'll be the one asking the question here, but since it's relevant to what she wants to know, she tells John about how her father found Char half dead with his skull cracked in half. Then she asks, "If you're really Char's older brother, then how could you let something like that happen to him?"

John is stunned to silence, only able to murmur that he thought Bitty B was safe, with their grandmother. Barb told him he was wrong, and then asks why he's even here, as you can't just jump into someone's life after twenty years, family or not. It's too late. John tries to say he came back but the tree was empty and he thought that his people, and family were dead, and only started to believe there was a chance he was alive after hearing about the marriage between a Prince of Rock and the Queen of Pop.

While this is going on, Char wakes up to Poppy at his bedside, they mourn their wedding for a moment, before contemplating he stranger. Against Doctor's orders He and Poppy travel to John's cell just as the stranger is telling Barb about Floyd.

With the possibility of a second brother out there, one who's actually endanger, Char agreed to help John, even if he doesn't remember. Poppy and Barb join the ride, simply becasue they were not going to let their fiance/brother go on this journey alone.

The journey to find the other Brozone members goes on, only this time John is constantly trying to get Char to remember in between stops. To the point that it's getting on everyone nerves. But Poppy enjoys the baby pictures.

When they find Bruce, he is crushed when Char doesn't recognize him either, and when John explains why Char doesn't have any memory of them. He's a little intimidated by Barb, but she softens we she sees her just how much anarchy her little niece and nephews can cause. During the practice performance, Char has some trouble keeping up with a seemingly unknown song and style. But muscle memory kicks in, and eventually, Char singing every notes and dancing every step. Poppy finds it cute, Barb finds the sudden shift creepy, John sees it as hope that he can get his baby brother back, Char is freaked out and now fighting migraine induced nausea. Barb offers to play for him, and Char agrees wanting to play with her.

Bruce joins forces with John on trying to further jog Char' memory, but he respects when Char tries to up boundries...mostly...Barb makes sure they back off fully when she sees them go too far.

Finding Clay is relatively similar. Clay gets shoved off of Char by Barb once he starts messing with his baby brother's face. Clay is also heart-broken by the news of Char' head wound. Barb is worried about how these trolls have lived with so much paranoia. Poppy is shocked about Viva, and Char just goes "We really need to have a sit down discussion with your dad about secrets."

When Viva mentions weddings, Poppy starts talking about, she almost just got married and if John hadn't crashed the ceremony. Bruce starts to scold John about how uncool that was. Viva asks about her fiance, and Poppy just points over to Char. Clay and Bruce's jaws drop, as they hadn't been told that yet. Bruce just said we would've missed their baby brother's wedding, and John chimed in saying doesn't that mean him crashing it was a good thing, they can all attend the re-do.

Viva wants to the all the details of the love story, and is thrilled to be becoming Clay's family. Poppy explains the nature of their arranged marriage, and how they grew to look forward to their future. Their siblings (minus barb) are disturbed by the arrangement, feeling like all should have a choice about love. Char shuts that down hard, saying that at first they were doing their duty to their peoples as Queen and Prince, but it evolved into something more, and their fine with the situation, happy with it even. And that Clay and Viva should at least understand that as leaders of the putt-putts.

When Viva tries to stop them from leaving, Char doesn't bother to talk her down. He and Barb share a look, they both see the puttputts getting ready to grab them, Char takes the situation into his own hands and pulls out his guitar, he and Barb fight their way out of the golf course to the tune of Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" then at the end of the song blows away the door with a singular power cord. The others book it out the golf course, Clay apologizes to Viva before joining to the others to save Floyd.

Little do they know, that this time Viva sneaks aboard the back of Rhonda. Three steps away from a panic attack, but she needs to know more about those weapons the Rock siblings carry.

The dress rehearsal is a much bigger mess from the start. Char refuses to wear a flipping dipper, one because he's an adult and two why does it matter what he's wearing? This is a rescue mission not a performance. John Dory tries to push it, but eventually gives up, so they can focus on practicing. The nit-picking gets to both him and barb much faster, and they have enough of it. Barb goes off, telling John that his micromanaging is ruining any chances of harmony. John defends himself saying that they need to get this right, and that this is what almost worked last time.

Char says, "yeah last time, which was twenty years ago, what worked then won't work now we aren't the same people!"

"Look Bitty B-" John said.

"Stop calling him that!" Barb jumps in, "It's not his name. It hasn't been for years, and he hasn't told you can call him that!"

"She's right-" Bruce tried to say.

"Oh shut up, the rest of you are just as guilty!" barb said, "You've been treating him like you did twenty years ago, not the way he deserves now."

"Okay, look Barb this really isn't any of your business," John said.

"And why not?" Char said.

"Branch look this is family matter-"

"Barb is my sister! She is family..."

"Well not technically-"

"She's more of a sister to me then you a brother! I don't know you! I don't recognize you! I don't remember you! You might as well have never been there! You weren't there when my head was cracked open! you weren't there when I got my first guitar! My birthdays! my coronation!...Why...Why weren't you there?"

"Branch..."

"No this is why, isn't it? If we were such a great band, then why did we fall apart? Why was I alone by the time our grandmother died? It's because the fighting like this never stopped did it? You were so focused on the perfect that you forgot the second part of the harmony. Family. Everyone couldn't stand it...then you all abandoned me...that's why I was alone..."

"Branch?"

"I remember..."

"You! you remember?!"

"I remember that night! The night where you all bailed on me! You left me in the care of our grandmother inside of Bergen run town where death was literally at our door step! You left me to die!"

"Yeah yeah we did! I did!" John snapped, "And i'm sorry, but don't worry we just have to get through this one show and we never have to see each other again!"

"Wait wait!" Barb jumped back in, "So, let me get this straight. You abandoned a baby, believed he was dead for what ten, twenty years, and then find him again only to re-abandoned after getting use out of him? Pop-squeak you better cover Tiny's ears."

"Okay!" Bruce chimed in, "When you put it like that it's bad, but did you honestly think that's we'd be able to be family again after twenty years?"

"I thought you'd want to set a better example for your kids!" barb said, "Abandon your family great life lesson there!"

The argument spirals out from there...until...

"Shut up!" Char screams, "All of you! You know, some part of me always thought that it was misunderstanding or some accident that I ended up alone...but now I can see that it doesn't matter anymore, because brothers or not we aren't family! Family doesn't abandon each other! Even if you need space or to get away! Family would come back! Or at least check in!...But you all just walked out...Well not this time. This time...I'm leaving you.."

Char, Barb, Poppy and Tiny leave, and decide to go after Floyd on their own, because even if Char wants nothing to with his bio-family anymore, he's not going to leave someone to be tortured. A little breaking an entering later, they find the fourth Brother, and Char actually recognizes him, but he doesn't know why and Floyd calls out the vest.

Like in canon, they can't get Floyd out in time. They do try to use power cords but they only served to raddle the bottle. Barb makes a note for their engineers to invent some kind of diamond breaking weapons. While hiding the vents they witness the rest of the brothers were now imprisoned, Barb calls them idiots.

Flash forward to the boat battle. Barb and Char, challenge Velvet and Veneer to a music duel. They attack the Twins (I think their twins I might be wrong) with power cords (probably Bon Jovi "You Give Love a bad name" Not sure yet) while Viva keeps making a grab for the gems with her stick hands. They get everyone but Floyd out. Then Char says they need to get him out now.

John admits Char was right, and controlling everything wasn't harmony, - Barb cuts in that is great that you realize it but save it for later and skip to the end were out of time - and they will follow his lead.

The guitar changes key, Char and Barb nod, and with a rocking guitar harmony to go with it, the the perfect family harmony is achieved. Velvet and Veneer are arrested. Poppy and Char finally get to kiss, and wonder if the universe will finally let them get married.

Then Floyd collapses....

______

And there's going to be a part 3 sorry guys... let me not if you have any idea for this one and p3

Part One and Part Three

[echosong-87]

Ok!!! Never used golden shading before... dunno how everyone will think... but i hope ya like it!!!

This design of classical branch au belongs to @tamagoneko and the original idea/author of this au belongs to @rocksibblingsau

I really hope you like it!! @tamagoneko and thank you for letting me use your design of him!!!

ÓwÒ

[dae-15]

I NEED MORE FICS OF THE OTHER TROLL TRIBES FINDING ABOUT THE POP GENOCIDE PLEASE ISTG THERE'S ONLY LIKE 3 OF THEM AND ONE HASN'T BEEN UPDATED IN LIKE 2 YEARS SO PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING REC ME SOME FICS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[king-trollex-fangirl]

Now I have three Trolls movies!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕😍😍😍😍😍

💖🎵Hair Up!🎵💖

[starfyhero2]

Chapter 23 of the Rocking Harmony AU (and the finale of the first fic) is now live!

Thank you to everyone that has liked and reblogged these update posts! This is probably my most popular work so far!

Now, the next fic after Trolls Rocking Harmony is gonna be called 'The Intertribal Gift Exchange', which takes place shortly after the events of this first fic and is basically a spin on the holiday in harmony short! So keep an eye out for that in the future as that's already a work in progress!

[brunchcoded]

FINALLY LISTENED TO THE FULL TROLLS 2 SOUNDTRACKS WHY DID THEY HIDE ALL THESE BANGERS BY ONLY PLAYING LIKE 3 SECONDS OF THEM??? THE ATOMIC DOG REMIX WITH ANDERSON.PAAK AND MARY J BLIGE?? YODEL BEAT BY THE SAME COMPOSER WHO DID THE BLACK PANTHER AND MANDALORIAN?? ROCK RULES???? I know movies have a limited run time but man 😭😭😭😭😭 they made an album of no skip fucking fire (except the mashup poppy makes them perform in lonesome flats that thing hurts me as much as it hurt delta dawn lmao)

[eldest-daughters]

Another visual for chap 31 of Burnt!!

They’re walking n talkin :) acting casual :)

[empressgeekt]

Here's the poorly made design for my Rock-Prince!Branch With amnesia in an arranged marriage Au. The other posts are by the same title and tag, if your interest in an plot summer for the AU

HEY TUMBLR TROLLS FANS

Have YOU got an AU? Has that AU got a Branch design unique from his original?

THEN SHOW HIM TO ME NEEEOOWWW!!!!!

I wanna draw a bunch of various AU Branch designs but I obviously don't. know EVERY single AU out there, so hand over your funny guys !!

(Gif for the attention grab)

[urblondiebaby]

WORTH IT

ex!husband eddie munson x reader

based on the hc! by me that eddie kidnaps your kids, charging kisses for ransom wc: 1.2K

“You know you can’t keep doing this.”

Eddie can hardly hold back a pout. He knows you’ll criticize him if he lets it slip, reminding him that ‘he’s a grown man for goodness’ sake’ even though his puppy eyes never fail to succeed against you. Except once. Only once, when you filed for divorce circa 12 years ago.

Filed into the back of the van, your children are pressing their faces up against the glass windows. Their eyes are wide, noses are upturned, fogging up the glass with each breath— looking like the myth of pig-men came to life and are giddy to draw smiley faces and ‘hi mom’s into the steamed up glass. Unlike you, they enjoy when their dad kidnaps them, waving their teachers off with forged letters so they can hobble into his car and fiddle with the stereo as he stops at the florist, and biting their lips to stop their excitement when they see your old camaro pull up.

Forget-Me-Nots lay half-forgotten at Eddie’s side as he ruffles his already messy curls, mesmerized as you step out the car, mom jeans and rock shirt hanging loose. You look as beautiful as the day he met you. Some days, he feels like it is the first time he met you, his heart paralyzed by a certain type of warmth at the sight of your face. It’s like everything around you disappears and he recognizes his purpose. You. You make him feel like a teenager in love.

“Eventually I’m just gonna call the cops on your ass.”

Angry is not how you would describe yourself in the moment. The first time it happened, hell, you were pissed. Smoke practically blew out your ears when he first called, interrupting himself with giggles while he announced “The prince and princess of, phh, Munsonville have been exiled along with the King. Haha, oh um— If you wish to see them ever again, you must pay the price!” After the second, third, fourth, and tenth time, it’s only become a nuance.

“Hi, Mom!” your daughter calls out, voice muffled. Her hands are sprawled against the window, the hair that was once well-kept into two braids is now fuzzy and tangled. Her brown doe eyes peering at you, standing on her tippy toes to see. Looking like the splitting image of her father. Behind her, your son is playing with Eddie’s electric-blue guitar, strumming the string so harshly that you cringe, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’s still staring at you.

Dumbly, Eddie just sticks the bouquet in your face, his fist inches from your face. “M’lady.” Through the thin stems of your favorite flower, you can see his lopsided smile.

Rather delicately, you take the flowers from his grasp, looking at them for a second too long to keep up your uneffected act. These must’ve been on sale, you assure yourself. He doesn’t remember the flowers you walked up the isle with, he couldn’t have. When you can finally drag your eyes away, your brows are furrowed. Something fluttering in your stomach as Eddie tilts his head, usual shit-eating grin strangely sweet. Small indigo petals flutter to the ground as they’re knocked off their branches from impact of hitting Eddie square in chest.

“Ow!” He lifts his arms up in defense. The purple-blue veins that flex on his bicep matching the shade of the dwindling flowers. “Y/N!”

Finally, easing your attack, your chest rises and falls as you point a finger at his chest. “Give my kids, Munson!”

“Mrs. Munson!” Again, you raise the flowers to wack him over the head, but Eddie’s hand grips your wrist, holding it in place and smiling innocently at you. “You know the drill by now.”

Groaning, you hide your face in what’s left of your flowers, a red hue rising on your cheeks. It’s embarrassing— giving in this easy to your ex husband’s demands, but there’s a special spot in your heart for Eddie that just. won’t. go. away. No matter how many dates you went on, no one could replace him.

Eddie’s hands are gentle as they pry your hands, and flowers, away from your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath. Harshly sighing through your nose, and trying to convincingly eye roll, you choke out, “What do I owe this time?”

“Well, seeing as it took you ten extra minutes to get here from the estimated time…”

You shake your head. “I was busy explaining why the teachers didn’t need to issue an amber alert, dipshi—.”

“Ten kisses.” He’s too happy with himself, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched the disbelief transform your pretty face.

“Ten?”

He raises his brows, playfully puckering. “Lay ‘em on me, honey.”

It’s never not awkward, begrudgingly (not really) approaching your ex husband with slow, torturous movements. Fingers finding his tattooed skin— which you used to color before you became adults and life went to shit, tracing up the expense of his arms until your hands connect around the back of his neck. He’s nibbling his lip as you inch forward, impatient. When your lips are close enough to touch, your breaths sync and your eyes meet. Heart racing, your eyes flutter shut. Lightly, the plush of your lips meet his— always surprising— soft lips. One.

Again. Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Eddie can’t help himself. His hands fly to your waist, squeezing the flesh he can reach and pulling your closer, shoving his tongue in your mouth when your hands tug on his hair. He tastes just as you remember, like tobacco and cheerios. As his tongue explores your mouth, you moan into his. Betrayed by your own body, dammit. His lips twitch against yours. When his teeth start to clash against yours, that’s when you pull away, a thick string of saliva connecting you. Nine.

Your eyes are hazy, a dumbstruck, lightheaded feeling coming over your body as you lean forward again. Foreheads connecting. Your noses nudging. Panting into each other’s mouth. Far too sensual for a divorced couple. Eddie finishes the last kiss for you, pecking your lips. Your breath hitches when he drags his teeth against the bottom. Ten.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he chuckles, panting. His large palm finds the bottom of your ass.

“Go to hell,” you whisper against his lips. “Kids!”

“Already in the car, Mom!” Tucked in the back of the car, seat belts buckled, your children look unimpressed. Your cheeks go bright red as you adjust yourself, trying hard not to stomp to the car as you avoid contact with Eddie, who walks slowly, cockily, behind you.

“I’ll call you later, sweetheart!”

You shove your hand out your unrolled window, middle finger up. Eddie’s laugh makes your chest tighten, but you won’t let it show, flipping on your sunglasses and pulling the fuck away from him. Eddie smiles as his kids wave through the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a knowing look on his face.

He’ll win you back eventually.

—

p.s. 💋

“Mommy, are you and daddy getting back together?”

With your grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning your white, you meet your five year old son’s clueless eyes in the review mirror— the product of the last time you got back together with his father. “Not a chance.”

not edited or read over 😔

[2i1han]

see you again | anton lee

pairing : camp host!anton x reader addressed as wen ⭑ wc : 5.2k

tags : summer love, childhood sweethearts reunion, coming of age, soft romance (?), fluff

playlist : i wait for you / alex g , to all of you / syd matters , skinny love / bon iver , somethin stupid / frank sinatra , oldest trick in the book / matt maltese , intolewd / matt maltese , photograph / ed sheeran , cigarette daydreams / cage the elephant

remembering a boy from your childhood during a three-day summer trip, you return to the same camp from 16 years ago hoping to piece together the memories.

growing up, you had your fair share of friends. you were the kind of kid who'd wave at strangers and start conversations on the swings. outgoing, chatty, always the first to suggest a game of tag or hide and seek. the neighborhood kids adored you. some even called you the "mayor" of your street. at one point or another, nearly all of them had been your playmate, even if just for a single afternoon.

you don’t really remember much before the age of eight, except for one kid.

you were five when your parents took you camping to a forested site hours away from the city. a trip that was supposed to be ordinary, just a short weekend surrounded by pine trees and buzzing cicadas. the campsite had the smell of firewood and damp grass, and the lake glimmered under the summer sun. that was when you met a boy who changed everything, even if you wouldn’t remember it clearly for years.

he was around your age, with chubby cheeks and grass stains on his shorts. his hair stuck out in funny places like he had been rolling on the ground.

"hi," he shyly approached when he saw you standing by your parents' tent. "i like your shoes."

you blinked down at your pink sneakers, confused. "they got wet."

"that’s okay. mine are dirty."

he held out a rock with a shiny stripe in the middle. "this is for you. it looks like candy but it’s not. i found it by the river."

you nodded solemnly and took the rock like it was treasure. and from that moment, you were inseparable.

you ran around the campsite, chasing butterflies and pretending the trees were giant towers. you dug for pretend treasures, you played hide and seek, though you always gave away your hiding spot by giggling. you climbed the same stump over and over like it was a castle.

when your parents sat down by the fire to talk and laugh, the two of you built a tiny fort out of sticks and pretended it was a bakery. you made mud-pies and "soup" with leaves and pine needles, serving them to your parents.

on the second day, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the flower-dotted clearing near the edge of the forest.

"let’s play wedding," he said, eyes wide with excitement.

"what's a wedding?" you asked, blinking.

"it’s when you get married and be friends forever and eat cake."

you paused, then smiled. "okay, but i wanna wear a dress."

"you can pretend," he said, and gave you a little flower—a forget-me-not—clumsily plucked from the grass. he connected it and pushed it gently onto your pinky.

"this is your ring. it’s magic, so you gotta keep it safe."

you held it up like it was made of diamonds. "now we’re married?"

he nodded seriously. "yes, i’m the prince and you're the princess."

he picked up a stick from the ground, not too long, with a bend at the end and held it up like a wand. "we're married now," he declared, puffing out his chest. "the spell is complete!"

"what kind of spell?" you asked, eyes wide.

"a forever spell," he said, matter-of-factly. "so we can be best friends and play every day."

he tapped your shoulder with the stick like he was knighting you. you giggled and grabbed a twig of your own, mimicking his movements.

"and now i crown you king of mud pies," you said.

he burst out laughing. "then you're the queen of tree forts!"

you both laughed so hard you ended up collapsing into the grass, side by side, staring up at the patches of blue sky peeking through the branches. a dragon-shaped cloud drifted by, and you pointed at it at the same time.

"jinx!" he yelled.

and then you raced to see who could reach the stump first, already forgetting who won last time.

that night, you sat beside him by the campfire. he gave you the last marshmallow.

but by the third morning, his family had packed up early. you remember waking to find their tent gone, only an empty space left behind. no goodbye. just the smell of burnt logs and the forget-me-not still tucked under your pillow.

after that you never asked your parents about him. not once. you only mentioned the campsite again when you turned eight, asking if you’d ever go back there someday. but when a new campsite opened closer to the town, just minutes away, your dad chose that instead. you never returned to that faraway forest again. you even forgot what it looked like, or what it was called.

life went on.

sixteen years passed. you were now in your third year of university. childhood felt like another lifetime, buried beneath the noise of lectures, parties, and leaving your hometown behind. you weren’t sure whether to visit your parents this summer, especially with friends inviting you on a beach trip. but in the end, something pulled you back.

it had been a year since you last saw your family, so you booked the trip home.

and that one decision , that small, almost random choice would change your life more than you could ever imagine.

the cab slowed at the familiar street. your parents' house stood there just as you remembered: a cozy craftsman-style bungalow painted in a warm, earthy yellow, with white trimming that caught the sunlight. it wasn’t grand, but it had the kind of comfort that hugged you before you even stepped inside.

you reached for the neatly folded cash, handed it to the driver, then stepped out with your single luggage and backpack in tow.

climbing the porch stairs, you opened the door slowly and peeked around the living room. there, by the kitchen counter, were your parents, sipping coffee and talking.

"i’m home!" you called out, voice rising with excitement.

your mom turned first, eyes lighting up as she put down her mug. "wen, sweetheart!"

your dad stood, grinning, as both of them pulled you into a hug. your mom cradling your face and your dad giving your back a pat so strong it knocked a laugh out of you.

"we didn’t think you’d come home this summer," your mom beamed. "we missed you."

"i missed you too," you said, pouting a little as your dad took your backpack and wheeled your luggage upstairs.

"come on now," your mom said, already walking back to the kitchen. "you’re just in time. we made breakfast."

you followed her, the scent of eggs and toast filling your nose, the warm kitchen light casting a soft glow over the countertops. you began to talk. about classes, your professors, the annoying group project that never ended, but somewhere in the back of your mind, the memory of that boy hung around.

soon enough, you and your parents had gathered around a peaceful dinner table. the clink of utensils and warm scent of seasoned steak filled the space as laughter passed easily between you and your dad, your conversations ranged from random stories to summer vacation plans.

"how about another camping trip?" your dad suggested, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of steak.

you shrugged at first, nonchalant. but then a vague memory stirred—of trees towering above your five-year-old self, of pine needles on your shoes, and a quiet little boy who'd once been your entire world in two short days.

"in that old campsite?" you looked up from your plate, browa lifted.

your dad shook his head, eyes still on the steak he was slicing. "nope. i meant the usual site, just a few minutes away."

you pouted a little without realizing, pushing peas to one side of your plate, then corns to the other. your parents exchanged quick, knowing glances.

"why?" your mom asked with a playful smirk. "do you want to go back there?"

you narrowed your eyes at her. "no, i'm just curious. we only went once."

"you know," your dad said, a grin tugging at his lips, "when we first and last went to that campsite, you were five. this small." he gestured with both hands beside him, chuckling. "there was this boy your age. he was the son of the couple in the tent next to ours. you two were like two peas in a pod!"

"oh, you even played weddings!" your mom added with a laugh, leaning back in her chair and dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

you listened, smiling as the memories slowly began piecing themselves together— images of flower crowns, tiny feet running across crunchy leaves, and a shy boy with black clothes and quiet voice.

"really?" you asked, leaning forward with interest.

"really," your dad nodded. "and the boy even gave you—what's it called again?"

"myosotis," your mom answered. "forget-me-nots. he put one on your finger like a ring."

you couldn't help the small laugh that left your lips. "that's actually kind of sweet."

just as you were about to say more, your mom's face lit up as something clicked in her head. she stood up with a sudden spark of excitement. "oh! we figured you'd eventually ask about it when you got older, so…"

she walked over to the living room and opened one of the cabinets near the back. you turned slightly in your chair, watching her rummage through the rear shelves until she pulled out a small wooden box. she brought it back and placed it gently on the table.

"we had one flower preserved in resin," she said, flipping open the lid.

inside was a silver ring. at the center was a smooth resin dome, and nestled perfectly inside was a single blue forget-me-not.

your eyes widened as she placed it into your palm. "thank you!" you grinned, slipping the ring onto your finger. it was adjustable, and it fit just right.

you held your hand up, admiring the little flower frozen in time. "this is really pretty."

"told you," your mom said, giving your dad a nod as they both watched your reaction.

as you closed the box and placed it beside your plate, you suddenly remembered what you meant to ask earlier.

"by the way… what was the name of that campsite?"

"camp windlow," your dad replied.

you hesitated, then asked, "mind if i spend a day there?"

they both nodded without hesitation.

"go on," your mom said. "just don't forget to come home and spend the rest of summer with us."

you smiled, feeling the ring on your finger—light, and comfortable. "i won't."

the next morning, you got up early, only to find your father already awake in the kitchen, sipping coffee and flipping through the newspaper. you had planned on taking a cab, but the moment he spotted your packed bag, he stood from his seat with a familiar look that said "you're not wasting money when i have a perfectly working car."

so instead, you found yourself in the passenger seat with one large bag, a singular tent, a portable table, and just enough food for a night. your dad drove you through the winding, tree-lined roads until you reached the trail entrance. he pulled over by the wooden gate and waved you off with a smile as you stepped out.

"call me if anything," he said as you nodded. waving before driving away.

you turned toward the gate. it stood quietly in the midst of trees, like a threshold between now and then. off to the side, an old but well-maintained wooden sign read: camp windlow trail

you noticed a bus parked nearby, likely for a group of students already at the site. you gave it a passing glance before starting up the trail. it was a short hike. just a few minutes, and then you saw it another wooden sign greeted you at the clearing, nailed to a tree: welcome to camp windlow

the space opened up into a cozy camp ground, surrounded by cabins and a cluster of trees. off to the side near the entrance was an old camper van with a sign hanging beneath a shaded awning: camp host.

you made your way to the rv’s side window. the soft crunch of leaves beneath your shoes was the only sound. you tapped the small bell on the built-in counter and tiptoed to peek through the screen, but the space inside looked empty.

just as you were about to turn around, you caught movement in your peripheral. a tall guy near one of the cabins—mid-conversation with a student—looked in your direction. he said something to the student, nodded, then jogged toward you.

"good afternoon, miss. welcome to camp windlow," he greeted with a small nod.

his dark, tousled hair fell over his forehead, framing gentle features. his eyes had that warm, sleepy crescent shape when he smiled. he wore a loose, off-white baseball jersey with thin black pinstripes, and beneath it, the collar of a black shirt peeked out.

"hi, uh—yes. are you the camp host?" you asked.

"yes, miss. sorry i wasn’t at the station. some students needed help with their cabins. i’m the only volunteer on duty today," he said, voice soft and low like it could disappear if you weren’t listening close enough.

you gave a small nod. you had more to ask, but decided to keep it simple. "i just wanted to check where i can set my tent up. i’m not renting a cabin."

"got it," he said, then gestured ahead for you to follow. "come on, i’ll show you the tent area."

you followed him past the cabins, toward a grassy clearing beneath tall trees. the space was flat and quiet, the sunlight filtering through the canopy tree above. you could see the river nearby, shimmering under the noon, and a small wooden shed sat near its edge.

"you can pitch your tent here. it’s a good spot. but let me know if you’d prefer somewhere else," he offered, pausing to look back at you.

"no, actually this is great already," you said, giving a casual wave of your hand.

"cool," he smiled, continuing. "there’s a water pump near the cabins if you need it. just a heads up—no wandering after nine."

you nodded, noting the direction he pointed in.

"thank you," you said.

"how many days will you be camping?" he asked.

"just a day."

"alright. i’ll log you in real quick so i know you’re out here," he said, turning toward the rv. then he paused, glancing back. "oh- and your full name?"

"wendelin hale." you replied.

he blinked, as if a bulb went off in his head before nodding, jogging back toward the camper van.

you dropped your bag down and took a breath, turning to look at the view of the river. it was quiet and beautiful. familiar in some way. you looked around, piecing together scattered memories, smiling to yourself in recognition. this might’ve been the exact spot where your parents had pitched the tent years ago. across from it was probably where the boy’s family stayed. and in that nearby park space where the two of you had played wedding.

you chuckled softly and wandered closer, tapping your hand against the trees as you passed, letting your fingers graze the bark like an old habit.

when you turned back toward your spot, you caught the camp host looking up from the logbook through the rv’s side window. he glanced at you. you smiled politely, and he returned it before lowering his gaze back to the page.

he looked out toward the area you’d just visited, staring for a moment with a knowing smile. then, he went back to work.

you unzipped your bag and pulled out the tent, sighing as you knelt by it. it had been years, and you barely remembered how to set it up. you fiddled with the poles and fabric, trying to recall the steps, but it quickly turned into a mess.

from the rv, the man noticed you struggle. he stepped out and jogged over.

"need help with that?" he asked.

you gave him an embarrassed smile and nodded. "yes please."

he smiled back and knelt beside the tangled tent, hands moving skillfully.

"i'm guessing this is your first time camping alone?" he said as he worked, not looking up.

"yeah, just a day of trip down memory lane," you replied, watching him work, trying to learn.

"places like this can really hold onto the kind of memories you want to relive," he said, echoing your thoughts.

"deep talk," you said with a faint smile.

before you knew it, the tent was standing, sleek and sturdy, a perfect black triangle in front of you.

"well, i could say i’m also here for a memory lane trip," he said, standing and dusting off his trousers. "there you go."

you nodded, impressed. "thank you."

"of course. miss hale, right?"

"yes," you replied, smiling. "but no need for formalities."

"just trying to stay professional."

"okay... sir—?"

"lee," he said. "anton lee."

"alright, sir lee," you chuckled.

anton smiled at that, then looked at you more closely. "you seem socially entertaining for someone camping solo."

you shrugged as you started setting up your small foldable table. "not really. i just prefer solo trips like this so i can unwind peacefully."

"fair," anton said, nodding. he stepped closer and unzipped the tent door, folding it up neatly to keep it open. "want help with the rest?"

"yes, thank you."

he helped you with your things in silence, arranging everything carefully. after a moment, you spoke again.

"you mentioned you’re here just for a quick nostalgia trip?"

"yeah, well… i figured i could also volunteer for the summer. extra credits for uni, you know," anton replied.

"oh, so you’re a student?"

"yup. just like those people over there." he nodded toward the cabins where students were busy setting up for camp. "and you?"

"i’m in uni too," you said.

"cool! just around here?" he asked as you both kept working on your setup.

"not exactly. my hometown’s a small town somewhere around here in oregon, but i study in portland. five hours away."

"you sound pretty established," anton smiled.

"not really," you shrugged, standing once you were finished setting up, noticing anton was done too. "still stuck here in the same state."

"hey, at least it’s something," anton said as he walked toward the riverside. you followed him, and together you sat in the open wooden shed.

"so, what about you?" you asked.

"really complicated," anton chuckled. "my hometown’s all the way in new jersey."

"that’s basically a plane ride away," you gasped. "how’d you end up here?"

"like i said, complicated. i just got back here after many years. i also decided to study around portland."

"and you volunteered as a camp host here." you laughed.

"obviously," anton nodded. "you know, you kind of seem familiar."

you looked at him, that same strange feeling rising inside you too. "yeah, you do too."

"what’s your name again? wendelin?"

"mhm, why?"

"nothing, just… i used to know someone with a similar name. well, not exactly the same, but she's called wen."

"that could be wendy or something else. wen’s a common nickname."

"i know."

"so, you think i seem familiar just because of my name?"

"maybe?" anton shrugged.

"well, you seem familiar too, somehow," you said, watching him, waiting to see if he wanted you to explain. "the first time i came here, i was about five," you started. "i had a friend, but i don’t remember his name."

"was it a girl?" anton asked.

"no, no." you shook your head, smiling at the memory. "we used to play a lot around here. we even played wedding. it’s cute but also kind of embarrassing. my parents teased me for it."

you looked down at your hand, twisting the ring on your finger.

anton noticed. "he gave me a forget-me-not flower ring. my mom even had it preserved in resin," you explained, showing it to him.

"eerie. i remember having the same memory," he said. "same place, same story. that’s why i came back here, to volunteer this summer."

"if i didn’t know your name, i’d swear that boy was you," you chuckled. "but i don’t think i ever heard the name anton back then."

"i get that," he smiled. after a pause, anton looked at you with a spark in his eyes.

"is it chanyoung?"

and as if remembering a song you've been searching for your entire life, it clicked in your head.

"chanyoung-ah, come here! it's time to eat!"

her mom's voice echoed in your memory. you could see him—five years old, turning to wave at you. his small feet kicked up dust as he jogged across the field to his mother’s table, where bowls of food are laid.

"come!" his mom then called out to you, her warm smile beaming under the shade of the pine trees. "wen? do you want to come over and eat with chanyoung?"

you’d nodded excitedly, cradling the bowl of leaf soup in both hands as you placed it carefully down by the tree where you’d been playing, then ran toward them with light steps.

you stared out at the river, its surface glinting under the sun. you smiled to yourself. a wide, happy, almost disbelieving smile, as your eyes visibly brightened up in recognition.

"chanyoung!" you beamed at him as he did too, his eyes crinkling with that same lighthearted smile. "since when were you anton?"

anton let out a chuckle, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart slightly jump. he glanced at you briefly before turning his gaze back toward the river ahead, hands resting loosely in his pockets.

"well, when we settled here in the u.s., i had to go for an english name. so, i pretty much went by my english name my entire life outside our house."

"i would've... never remembered." your voice came out quiet.

"that's on me," he replied with a smile. "it's nice to meet you again, wen. i kind of had a hunch when you started wandering off to specific spots here earlier."

you smiled to yourself, looking down shyly, hiding the stupid grin spreading across your face. you swung your feet a little from your seat, your heels lightly tapping the wooden platform beneath.

"so, that’s why you looked familiar. you still kinda look the same as when we were kids," you said, grinning up at him.

"well, you changed. your hair used to be some kind of lighter blonde and now you’re brunette," he pointed out. "but your eyes are still the same pretty shade of hazel."

"you remember that?" you turned to him, surprised, trying to keep your tone from sounding too delighted.

"of course." anton sighed before hopping off the seat. "you wanna walk around?"

you hummed and then nodded, hopping off your seat too. leaves crunched beneath your shoes as the two of you wandered off, the camp fading behind you as you stepped deeper into the quieter parts of the grounds.

you and anton walked around the wide area, the soft rustle of wind through tall grass and tree branches filling the silence between your conversations. every step brought you to an old spot. you even unlocked more memory you've completely forgotten. thanks to anton, who seemingly had remembered everything.

"that’s where you scratched your knee," anton said, pointing toward the root of a large tree, half-exposed in the dirt. "you tripped there. i thought you were gonna cry but you laughed."

you furrowed your brows for a moment, but then a smile bloomed across your face. the picture came back to you—your five-year-old self giggling with a scraped knee and grass in your hair.

"wow, you remembered again?"

"of course," anton nodded, walking beside you, relaxed. "i considered you as someone important in my life. you were also my first friend back then. i never really interacted with anyone as a kid, but you didn't scare me, and i found a friend in you."

your heart warmed at anton’s words. you looked down for a moment, suddenly feeling a little guilty. not for forgetting completely, but for remembering less than he did.

"i’m sorry i couldn't remember a lot," you said.

"don’t be sorry for anything." he waved his hands dismissively, his voice light. "if anything, i should be sorry for suddenly leaving."

you turned your head slightly toward him, curious.

"we were five and things happen," he continued. "the babysitter of my younger brother who's a baby that time called my parents that day, saying he got sick and was hospitalized. so we had to go back home earlier than we planned to."

"that’s okay. i understand." you paused, then looked up at him with a smile that tried to push away the lingering guilt. "well, at least we’re here now again, right?"

anton looked at you with soft eyes, his expression calm before nodding.

"i hope i don't come off as weird but—" anton paused, stopping beside the path. his voice dropped to a murmur. "i feel... unexplainably comforted. happy, even. you're the reason i came back here."

you looked at him closely, eyes searching. his gaze never left yours.

"why?" you asked. "is it really that important to you?"

you waited for an answer, but instead, anton simply exhaled softly through his nose and offered a lopsided smile. "it's almost sunset," he said, glancing toward the golden sky. "you shouldn't miss the view from your spot." then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward the main site.

that evening, the two of you sat on the log seat beside the crackling campfire. a few snacks between you, and hours spent sharing stories from your shared childhood. you told each other what life had become. he shared that he'd taken up swimming in university, dabbled in instruments, and, at his core, remained the same introverted boy you remembered.

anton didn't seem surprised when you told him you'd become an art major and that you had a decent circle of friends.

"i always knew you'd be an artist. you used to draw cool things for me, remember?" he paused, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "i still have them, actually. my parents kept a box of my things. your drawings are in there."

as the night wore on, you realized how naturally your bond had rekindled. anton had always been interesting and it became clear that the years hadn't eroded what once connected you. you both laughed, talked, and forgot about the time.

you looked at him with guilt simmering behind your words. "i hope you don't think i saw you as someone unimportant."

anton smiled gently, reaching out to pat your shoulder. "i never did. because if you did think of me as someone unremarkable in your life, you wouldn’t have bothered coming back here..." he then nodded toward your hand. "...or wearing that flower ring again."

"and..." he spoke again, but then hesitated, as if something weighed on his chest. "and it's getting late," he said instead, standing up. "i should head back to the van."

you didn't push as you just nodded. "do you want to exchange contacts?" you offered, standing up as well.

"that'd be nice," he said, pulling out his phone. you exchanged numbers, and the night passe from there.

in the morning, you got up early. students were already busy around the campsite as you sipped on a warm coffee. you looked over at the van and saw anton setting up his things. you smiled at each other.

"good morning!" you called out.

"good morning," he called back. but you didn't hear him. you only saw the shape of the words on his lips. you smiled anyway and went on with your day.

anton went to his daily morning work, while you joined a group for exercise. later, you packed everything up. new clothes on, your tent dismantled and tucked back into your tent bag. it was time to leave.

anton approached, his morning work done. "leaving already, i guess?"

"yeah," you smiled tight-lipped, slightly disappointed. "told my parents i'd only be out for a day. my dad's picking me up too."

anton nodded in understanding. "i already have your number, so i don't think there's anything to be sad about."

he helped with your bags until your phone buzzed with a notification from your dad—he was near.

"i should get going," you said, sliding your phone into your jeans pocket.

"i'll walk you down," anton offered.

he lifted your tent bag and your folded table while you carried your own backpack. the walk down the trail was peaceful, though the thought of saying goodbye made your chest feel heavy.

by the roadside, anton carefully set down your things in front of you.

"let's keep in touch," you said.

"sounds nice," he replied. a second of silence followed. then, he spoke again.

"and—it is. it is that important to me because you promised me, and i held onto that."

you blinked, confused, watching as anton smile.

"you've forgotten," he said. "but the evening before the morning we left, you told me something by the riverside."

he looked down briefly, then up at you again.

"you promised that you'd see me again. that we'd be friends forever—because we're married."

anton laughed a little.

"and... i'm happy you didn't break it even though you forgot about it."

the memory then struck you like a spark to dry wood. your small pinky held out to his.

"when we get home, i’ll see you again no matter what. because if we’re married, we’ll forever be friends."

the memory clicked into place like the last puzzle piece in a long-lost picture.

"i remember now," you said. smiling warmly back at anton.

then, a white car approached from the distance, pulling up just then. your dad rolled the window down, eyes landing on the two of you with a knowing, content smile as if he had seen this coming.

"did i make you wait?" he asked.

"just in time," you replied, opening the backseat door as anton helped load your things.

you then turned to him once more.

"i won't say goodbye."

"yeah. i won't, too," he said with a small smile. then, anton pulled you into a warm hug before letting go.

you opened the front seat door and got in. just before it closed, anton stepped forward.

"wen," he said, as you looked at him through the open window.

"see you again."

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Burning Branches AU part 1

Or alternate title, I have now been sucked down the sudden black hole that is this fandom and now the troll plot bunnies are running ramped around my Fanfic farm, because the creators of this franchise has added my weakness...Sibling relationships... Now I have plans for a two story saga in this fandom of which I wouldn't have glanced at with interest at all a month ago.

Well, that's enough rambling, Time to get into the meat of the fic plot.

So, while browsing on Ao3 I noticed that there was this Rock!Branch au, where Branch is separated from the pop-trolls as a kid and ends up being raised by Barb and Thrash of the Rock Trolls. I love this concept, more then some relatives of mine. But I want to put a little spin on it. I've been a big fan of amnesia/memory loss fics, and I noticed there was a lack of them in this fandom.

Brozone breaks up and Grandma dies like in canon, same old same old. However, in this AU Branch is forced to leave the Troll Tree as a kid, because there is a larger sigmatism about trolls who went grey. The Trolls are very clear that they want nothing to do with Branch. They are all already living with death at their door step and they don't need a grey child to constantly break the false image of happy paradise that the adults try to maintain in the Tree to keep themselves sane. Branch, with nothing else left for him in the tree, packs up and tries to leave to find his brothers, though he does worry if they would even want him now that he was grey.

After successfully escaping the town, (the bergens don't notice if a small troll vanishes in the middle of the night, they didn't notice the whole village packing up), Branch spends a terrifying night in the woods. Running away from what are "predator's" in the eyes of a small child. Until he accidentally, stumbles in the a wormhole. The wormhole sucks Branch away from, Pop territory to the outskirts of the Rock badlands. But in this new hot volcanic he is still far from safe. (I'm adding that their are harsh powerful dragons that roam around the Rock trolls territory, as there has to be some type of reason behind they turned their own music and instruments in the to energy weapons while the other tribes didn't. Not to mention the active volcanic activity everywhere!) While running away from some of these actual predators and dangerous lava pools, Branch gets shoved over a cliffside, and falls into one of the few rivers nearby. In the raging rapids, the little troll strikes his head against the rocky river bed. Knocking him out.

Meanwhile, Still-King Thrash is leading an expedition to the river to fetch water for the people of Volcano Rock City. Being the very soft and caring Father he is, once he sees a small child floating in the river he jumps in without a second thought, and pulls the child to the shore. He leaves the expedition in the hands of another Troll and brings the some how still alive child back to the City and into the care of a capable doctor. While waiting to hear if Branch will live, Thrash goes through the little sack the kid had with him. There's enough evidence for the king of rock to come to the conclusion that Branch was running away, and needless to say Thrash is furious. Who would be so cruel that dared to make a child in his kingdom feel so scared and unwelcomed that they would run away! (at this point due to Branch's greyness and the high emotions of the situation Thrash hasn't realized Branch is from Pop yet, not that it would matter in the long run he's still ticked off).

Eventually, the doctor (an old friend of Thrash's whom they have a deep trust between, I haven't named them yet), calls Thrash in. Thrash finds Branch unconscious on the medical bed with his head bandaged. The doctor tells Thrash that's its a miracle that Branch is even alive, but it would take a bigger one for the child to wake up. The underneath the blood of the wound was a skull fracture and possible brain damage. Then he mentions it would probably be better if Branch never woke up, and further explains Branch's nature as a pop troll, and his greyness. Thrash takes this information in with a sad heart. Stigma against pop was still running high in the Rock kingdom, despite Thrash wanting to believe his people could spare their bias to care for a wounded child, he knows that no foster family would take a pop troll in. He asks the Doctor to keep quiet about Branch, and that if the boy would wake up Thrash would take him in himself. He goes home and hugs Barb after an exhausting day, and asks her if she was open to having a little brother.

After a few weeks, Branch wakes up, but he has no memory of anything. Not his name. Not where he's from. Not how he got there. At this point the medical staff that were allowed to know about him, have taken to calling him Charcoal, or Char, after his perfectly black and shiny hair, and it just kind of stuck after that. Thrash has taken to visiting Branch, even before the boy was conscious, quickly growing fond over the boy and until he'd recovered enough to be taken to the royal cavern. Barb takes to having Char around very well. Having a younger sibling, gives her something to put her protectiveness towards. Thrash makes and announcement, claiming Char as his own to Rock, and putting the boy as second in-line for the throne.

Still it isn't all cupcakes and rainbows with Char in his new home. He has lasting effected form his head injury in the form of migraines and fainting spells. The child is plagued by nightmares, of Giants coming to eat him and old ladies. They frighten him so much he draws and designs traps and bunkers to keep himself safe. Some of the designs Thrash actually considers building in case of emergency. Music brings him to tears if it's too loud or sudden, or if Barb asked him to sing-along. His room is sound proofed, and he has a pair of headphones to block things out if needed. Thrash also finds that his new adoptive son, is far more book-smart then him or Barb, the rarely used Rock library becomes Char's second home. The child become well educated in History, engineering, math, sciences and politics.

It would take two years before, Barb managed to talk Char into coming to her music practice, where the kid learns that music is more then just noise that makes him feel scared/unsafe. Seeing the weapon music can be, something he can learn to protect himself with, Char becomes hooked on the idea of learning it. Too everyone's surprise, it comes to boy like second nature, and his voice is like that of an angel's.

Eighteen years pass, and Branch grows up to be, Prince Char, second born son to Thrash King of Rock. He's a known expert with a guitar, both as an instrument and a weapon, his reputation is that of a eerily smart and organized strategist, who is loyal to his family and people to a fault and ruthlessly protective. With Thrash's health, both physical and mental, in rapid decline, Barb is forced to take on the mantel of Queen earlier then she wanted, but this time she has a brother to lean on as an advisor. Which is a good thing, because between the two of them Char is a much better planner.

Pressure is turned up on the royal rock siblings, when an unexpected earthquake destroys the farmlands that feeds the city. Sure, volcanic soil can been great for growing plants, but rivers of lava and giant fresh trenches don't help at all. Barb flies off the handle, and begins to panic in quiet about what she needs to do to protect the people of Rock, while Char looks into historical records to see if the past king ever had to deal with issues like this. Eventually he stumbles on the knowledge that during ancient times if one of the tribes was in trouble they would call upon their sister tribes for aid.

"Oh that's great advise your books have, let's ask for help from our sworn enemies!" Barb would exclaim, "Wait...the other tribes! If they lasted as long as we did, then they must have resources! But they wouldn't help us...not unless they were just like us. We could use our string to convert..."

"Barb! I'm going to stop you right now. First one our string isn't powerful enough to over-write someone's genre, believe me I looked into it-"

"But if we get all the strings..."

"You mean steal them?"

"Yah!"

"No, if we were to fail that would only sour relations between genres further and our people would still be starving. We'd be better off forging an alliance with a tribe, rather then wasting already limited resources conquering one."

"URGH! Why are you always right....So, alliance...that's our best plan?"

"Currently yes."

"With people that hate us! Are we sure we can't conquer them?"

"Barb, were trying to make a harmony. You can't make harmony with everyone using the same voice. They all need to be different, and they all can't be forced into something they they aren't or it all falls apart."

"Whoa, that's deep. Where'd ya learn that?"

"I-I don't know...but the point still stands we need to befriend another tribe not conquer one!"

"Okay, so how do we do that?"

"Well, apparently theirs more ways then one, all of them include paper work, so leave that to me, but one of them we actually have a unique opportunity to ally with."

"Oh? And how do we take advantage of this unique opportunity?"

"You're not going to like this...but we use me..."

Branch would go on to explain his plan to ally the Rock kingdom with the Pop trolls...through an Arranged Marriage between him and the Pop princess. Barb hates it, especially after all the pop trolls did to her brother when he was young, but she can't argue the logic. The pop trolls live in a forest rich with food and plant life, and water sources. However, they have zero defenses other then how deep they live in the forest. (how he knows all of this Branch has no idea) If the alliance managed to go through, the Rock trolls could get the needed food supplies, and the Pop trolls could gain the knowledge of how to use musical weaponry.

Barb still hates it, it feels like her little brother is throwing away his future. But Char assures her that he's okay with it, and that it's his turn to take on the burden of the crown he supposed to wear. As a bio-pop troll the possibility of an heir from the alliance marriage is higher then if they use a random Rock citizen, and as Rock Prince that will give more creditably to the pleads of their people to Pop. He tells Barb to just take care of Dad when he's gone and that they always have debbie to talk to each other through letters.

So they send a message to Pop Village...requesting to consider the marriage.

At Pop village, Poppy is busy with her new duties as a fresh coronated Queen, caring for the village needs and further establishing peaceful relations with the Bergens after the fall of Chef. When the message reaches her, delivered Via Debbie and Biggie, Peppy tries to take it from her before she cane read it. And then she demands that he Explain why she just got a proposal in a letter from a Rock Prince?

Peppy reluctantly explains the history of the Tribes, and how some times they would form alliances between the genres by wedding members of the royal families together to ensure peace. He makes it very clear that He doesn't want Poppy to even think of answering the Rock trolls even if to decline the proposal, but she fights back saying hat this might be their only chance for peace between the genres for years to come if its taken this long for them to reach out this time. Peppy then tries to argue that if Poppy were to accept the proposal that she would have to marry this prince, this stranger, and he never wanted that to happen to her. He knows Poppy is queen now and he can't order her to do anything, but he asks her to think about this before making any kind of decision.

Poppy needless to say, deeply contemplates the proposal. She wants to help reunite the tribes, but bonding herself to a stranger she never met was a daunting thing. She talks with Cooper and Bridget who are surprisingly helpful with everything, and decides that she'll accept the proposal with the condition that she and her future groom have the chance to meet and get to know each other before the wedding.

Barb and Char readily accept the condition, and calculate that they can give one month of courtship before the Rock kingdom is without food. They respond back to Poppy, and tell them that Char and a few others would arrive in Pop Village a few days after she would receive the letter that confirmed the betrothal.

Char arrives at Pop Village with much fanfare from his travel companions, but shushes them quickly and addresses Poppy and Peppy in a polite manner. Poppy is kind of thrown off by how grey her future husband is, not that she shows it. Char is just as shocked about how bright and colorful she is.

The romance is awkward at first. The cultural differences get in the way sometimes. But eventually a connection is formed. Char learns to feed off of Poppy's energy and Poppy learns that there's more to this grey prince then gloom. With the wedding scheduled for the end of the month, Poppy decides to introduce Char to her BFF Bridget.

Needless to say, it doesn't go well.

Char's underlaying trauma comes back in a panic attack and flashback upon seeing the Troll Tree and bergens. The memory of his Grandmother's demise suddenly becoming clear as day in his mind. In the panic he accidently fires his guitar at Grisle and Bridget, with makes Poppy panic and angry at him. So he runs off into the woods.

Bridget and Poppy end up having a heart to heart where Bridget says that Char looked scared. Having heard about how Char was acutualy a pop-troll and was adopted into the royal family, Poppy connects the dots rather quickly. Realizing that Char used to live in the Troll Tree but didn't escape with the others. the whole visit was triggering for him.

She runs back to Pop Village looking forh im, only to find that Queen Barb had arrived to help set up the wedding, and she wants to know where her Brother is. Poppy blurts out what happened while trying to defuse the situation, and that only serves to rile Barb up further. Until Poppy snaps, yellling at Barb that they need to go looking for Char not fight here! This impresses Barb into agreeing.

Poppy finds him and they end up having a heart to heart, and confessing...

The wedding goes on as planned. On the neutral ground of the Troll Tree, allowing Char to visit his late Grandmother's home for the first time in twenty years.

All seems well...Until one John Dory screams, "Stop the Wedding!"

...

I will post part two in a separate post because this is long!

Part two, and Part three

Edit: The prolog for this fic, which is basically Char's child hood is now posted on Ao3. Link

[echosong-87]

This was by far my favorite episode... It's super funny!!!

Imagine Moonlit branch body swapping with poppy!!! He was mentoring her, and both got into a heated argument due to the lesson that neither learned from!!

Plus!! I am learning on how to draw different crowns!! That’s why Moonlit Branch has a halo sorta crown floating over his head!! Just a sorta eye ball dunno how it’ll look sorta feel!! I am so sorry!!

XD

I have to rewatch The Beat Goes On because I forgot Branch and Poppy swapped bodies for an episode!

I understand if people don't consider the tv series canon, but I would like to think TBGO is because it was made after the first movie so there's more continuity that makes sense.

But this is huge for Broppy. I implore Broppy fans to at least watch The Beat Goes On.

[echosong-87]

"This... feels a bit... too much."

~King Lunar"aka: Branch"

"Well, it's either that look, or you're gunna wear them dipers Bitty B"

~JD

King Lunar/Branch: "PLEASE refrain yourself from calling me that title.. I am no longer Branch or Bitty B... nor want to be known as Baby Branch... my name is Lunar,,, and address to me as such."

I also love how i drew moonlit Branch’s paws… a fun fact his paws are armed with talons instead of regular claws… he does hunt for prey like mice, rats, and other prey like creatures.. not to only feed himself when in nightfall but for the giant spiders he owns!!

Also

Poppy be blushing mad at a random corner nearby!! XD

Again, I am still trying to figure out on how to answer the question of how brozone reacted seeing moonlit Branch as the way he is now... but please wait on me!!!.. I'm trying to answer it as best as i can!!

Here's the screenshot of the question btw!!!

[iloveboysinred]

SNOWED IN.

|MDNI 18+ content | Sylus x afab reader

synopsis; Sylus surprises you with a week-long trip to a ski resort in Alaska.

cw; afab reader, no use of y/n, crack/fluff. Sylus and reader are whipped for each other, sylus is bad at skiing , Gets a bit spicy but not outright smut, an attempt at writing something cutesy for the holidays. instagram posts at the end <3 (lets all pretend alaska exists in the lnds universe)

3114k words | playlist

If there was one thing Sylus was exceedingly good at, it would be spontaneity. It seemed like every other week he had something new scheduled for the two of you. Whether it’d be a date to an upscale restaurant, or the grand opening of a new club he had recently bought; Sylus liked to keep you entertained.

Christmas was coming, and it was his favorite time of the year to spoil you and treat you to luxuries you’d never thought accessible before. This year he’d planned a costly week-long getaway trip to a ski resort in Alaska, complete with a cozy private cabin and various activities to make your stay as memorable as possible.

You were beyond excited, packing all of your warmest garments and feeling less than guilty clearing out your schedule for the entire week. Your heart nearly fluttered away from your chest when you heard the coded knocks at your front door. Sylus, your very own prince charming, was finally here to rescue you from the painful dullness of everyday life. Eager, you open the door and pull him inside before he could get a word in, his surprised grunt ripping a fit of giggles from your chest as you embraced him, rocking his taller frame side to side in your arms. Sylus laughed, affectionately petting your head when you released him, running around to collect your things and throw in whatever you thought appropriate.“What an excited little kitten.” He mused to himself, holding his arms out dutifully as you piled on suitcases and bags for him to carry.

You don’t even try to hide your appreciation, doting on him with warm kisses and words of gratitude as he finished hauling the last of your luggage into the car. He returned your affections with quiet mirth, cradling your face into the plane of his chest, lovingly sharing his warmth with you. “Let's go, sweetie.” He murmured into your hair after a while, regrettably pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head and opening the passenger door for you all gentlemen-like.

Mephisto cawed to you in greeting from his perch on the arm rest, quickly nestling into your lap when you sat down, cooing like a needy cat demanding his share of your attention. You complied, stroking the bird’s bill tenderly as Sylus started the ignition, driving at less than favorable speeds.

Arriving at the resort felt like you had just stepped into winter wonderland. Undisturbed snow stretched for miles, blanketing the large hills and mountaintops overlooking the resort in blinding white. Pine trees decorated the open plains, their thick branches weighed down with heavy snow, just barley blending in with the surroundings. You eagerly surged out of the jet, drinking in the scenery despite the biting cold. Sylus followed you out, handing the luggage off for the twins to carry back to your cabin.

“Excited?” Sylus tenderly wraps a thick scarf around your neck, pulling a lip of the knitted fabric over to cover your nose. You nod, rubbing your eyes to ease the soreness you felt from the beaming sun reflecting off of the white snow. “So, when do we start skiing?” you turned towards him with childish enthusiasm beaming in your eyes, jet lag long forgotten. He only smiled, taking your hand in his “let's head to the cabin and change first. The vacation would go to waste if you catch a cold.” You obliged, feeling a bit ahead of yourself, but still unable to stop yourself from drinking in your surroundings as he led the way.

The cabin, albeit sizable, was as cozy as you had hoped. Familiar aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg greeted you as you opened the door, your eyes blinking appreciatively at the old timey lamps stationed at every corner of the cabin, bathing the room in a comforting glow. The large floor to ceiling curtains suppress the outside world’s natural light. In the living room area, a large bearskin rug laid out in front of a river-stone fireplace, complimenting the assortment of fur blankets and bedding neatly folded on the couch for you to use.

The bedroom itself matched the interior decoration, two matching nightstands sat at each side of the large bed, complete with layers of thick blankets and pristine pillows. The nightstands themselves each had its own lamp, and two satin sleep masks folded neatly over a set of matching robes for the both of you. Before you could even begin to strip down and change into appropriate attire, Luke and Kieran leisurely stroll in through the door, dropping duffel bags onto the hardwood floors, whatever was inside hitting the floor with a loud clang!

“We bought the skiing gear you requested, boss.” Luke chirped, pulling down the bottom part of his ski mask, his nose rosy red from the outside cold. “We even got the extra stuff you wanted. The gift shop is impressive” Kieran added, cheekily grabbing one of the complimentary pastries left by the staff and handing Sylus what you guessed was his credit card. They exchanged a few more words you couldn't make out, only hearing their enthusiastic shuffling before the door shut behind them.

Turning around you met Sylus’s gaze, mischief dancing in his eyes as he walked towards you with the two duffel bags in hand. “Better suit up sweetie, the twins are waiting for us at the bunny slope.” you eagerly grabbed the bag he outstretched to you, hurrying off to change.

To your surprise Sylus had sent you ahead, claiming he needed to unpack a few things before he could feel truly comfortable heading out to join you. In the meantime, the twins kept you company, racing you down the gentle slope a few times before moving on to a different hill. You became the designated photographer, the three of you snapping pictures and laughing as you wandered up and down the resort, your cheeks growing numb and flushed from the biting cold. You watched as Luke and Kieran raced down the ‘black diamond,’ the two of them darting past each other and leaving long tracks in the snow, their shouts of excitement nearly drowned out by the wind. It was then that you noticed nobody else was waiting in line to take a turn. The resort was basically a ghost town, save for you and the staff.

Briefly, you wondered if Sylus was planning something. It wasn't unusual for him to rent out or even buy a space for just the two of you to enjoy, but his insistence for you to go ahead without him and his quiet exchange with the twins raised alarm bells in your mind.

Kieran’s panicked shouts drew you out of your thoughts a second too late. You felt them before you saw them— the impact of twins crashing into you was strong enough to send the three of you toppling over into the snow. Recovering from the initial shock, you broke out into a fit of laughter, the twins awkwardly scrambling off of you, their hurried apologies coming from all angles as they helped you to your feet. Distracted by the sheer comedy of the moment, you just barely missed Mephisto’s loud cries from overhead, signifying Sylus’s upcoming approach.

The crow descended from the sky like a hawk, clicking and cooing as he landed on your shoulder, shaking his feathers out in protest to the wind. Sylus appeared soon after, fully decked out in ski gear and heavy clothing, you would barely recognize it was him if not for the aura and presence he exuded, effortlessly maintaining his elegance despite how silly he looked with his oversized snow goggles and weighty ski boots, exhibiting the classic penguin waddle of somebody not used to wearing skis. “decided to join us?” You mused, regarding him with fond eyes as he approached. “Of course,” he shifted in his spot uncomfortably, the heavy ski boots felt like they added 5 pounds to each foot, and you could already picture the irritated furrow in his brow. “Couldn’t let you have all the ‘fun’. Now, who wants to try their luck in a race against me?” You grinned, grabbing his wrist and all but dragging him to the chairlift while the twins followed.

It was hard to race against Sylus when the man could just barely balance himself on the ski’s. You watched in amusement as he clicked them on to the bottoms of his boots, slightly wobbling his way over to you once safely off the chairlift. You smiled from behind the ski mask, holding his arm while he adjusted his stance. It was obvious Sylus had never skied before, yet he still shooed away your doting hands, standing up straighter to clumsily maintain his balance. “Are you ready to lose?” You teased, waddling closer so that he could hear you through the protection of your mask. “Lose? “Don’t be so sure of your victory just yet, kitten.” despite his self assured tone, you don’t miss the way his hands gripped the ski poles to steady himself. You giggled, shifting a few feet away from him to ready yourself.

The twins counted down from behind you, and on the third mark, you pushed off and down the hill. Wind whipped around as you descended down the slope, and you quickly angled your ski’s into a v-shape to gain more speed, skillfully leaning your weight down onto the boots. You could just barely see Sylus from your peripheral, delighted to see him holding his own but still unable to gain advantageous speed.

In minutes you scored your victory.

“It seems you’ve won.” Sylus grumbled, coming to a stop next to you and very quickly clicking the ski’s off, again, balancing on the poles. “When you say it like that, it's almost as if you can’t accept that you’ve lost.” You mused dusting the snow off of his goggles, giggling when he slid them over his helmet, his eyes squinting at the sudden adjustment. “I can always just teach you, Sy.” He scoffed, already trekking back towards the chairlift. “Let's go again.” Unbeknownst to you, the twins crept away towards your cabin, swooning over the secret pictures they had taken of you and Sylus as they eagerly headed to complete their task.

You stayed outside until your muscles locked and your hands were numb.racing over and over until the daylight sky had darkened into beautiful midnight, the lack of light pollution providing the stars an open canvas to shine at full luminosity. It was beautiful, the hues of purple and blue painting the open sky stealing your breath away. Following Sylus back to the cabin had you light on your feet. The silence of the surrounding woodland created an air of private intimacy. It was only you and him out here, where no prying eyes could follow.

You paid no mind to the darkness that greeted you when you opened the door, the both of you carelessly stripping off the heavy snow-proof clothing and leaving it on the couch for tomorrow. You stop in your tracks as you enter the bedroom.The room was candlelit, adding to the cozy atmosphere the cabin already provided, on the bed Sylus had assorted a barrage of different gift bags– all from different upscale brands, a mix of names you recognized and others you didn't. In the center of it all, sat a large maroon box, topped with a pretty black bow.

Sylus sauntered in, his chest pressing against your back. You leaned into him, your heart beating in your chest as his arm slid over yours, intertwining your fingers. “A gift for every day that we spend together.” He whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You turned around in his embrace, your eyes shining with emotion. “Sylus, i- i don’t know what to say…thank you.” he smiled, cradling your face in his large hand, his nose brushing against yours as he leaned in. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me hold you like this a little longer.” you closed the space between you, shyly touching your lips to his in a gentle kiss. Sylus responded, holding you close to him as he returned your love. Melting into his arms, you stood on your tippy toes to deepen the kiss, conveying your adoration through your actions. You carded your fingers through his hair, ruffling the silky strands and he moved with you, his hands coming down to rest at your hips, pressing back into you with the same neediness. Slowly, he parted from you, releasing a breath. “I’ve drawn a bath.” his voice had picked up into a rasp, invoking jitters to run up and through your body. “Okay.” you breathed, wading out of his arms and letting him guide you to the bathroom.

You were pleasantly surprised to see the bathtub adorned with tea lights and a small record player sitting on the bathroom counter, a vinyl already inserted and ready to be played. Sylus swiftly moved the tonearm onto the vinyl, and the record began to spin. Unhurried, you undressed each other, exchanging heated kisses and wandering touches that set your skin ablaze.

Finally making it to the large tub, you sat in between Sylus’s legs, comfortably leaning back into him as he gently rubbed a soapy sponge over your skin. You felt your muscles relax, the steaming water loosening the knots that had begun to form after a long day of travel and strain. You closed your eyes, reveling in his touch, the music from the record player adding the perfect touch to your intimacy. Sylus pressed kisses down the side of your neck, slowly lathering the aromatic soap over your chest with the sponge, his intentions indiscreet. Leaning your head back, you let him kiss you breathless. The unique aroma of his cologne and natural musk overwhelmed your senses, your head spinning with each shift of his bare body against yours. It didn’t take long for Sylus to take you for himself, the water sloshing and spilling over the tub becoming evidence of your copulation.

Once dried and in your robes, the two of you grazed over a small charcuterie board, sharing glasses of wine and aimless small talk. Unable to stop yourself, you leaned over to his side of the bed where the two of you had pushed the gift bags away to safety and picked up the maroon box that had caught your attention the most, sitting it on your lap as you looked at him, fingering around the black bow curiously. “What’s in here?” Sylus shrugged, the corners of his mouth upturning, repressed excitement clear on his face. “I don't know, kitten. I guess you’ll just have to open it and see.” You carefully untied the ribbon and cracked open the box. A beautiful dress laid folded inside, matching earrings and a necklace delicately placed on the collar. You placed the accessories on the lid of the box, admiring the intricate design.

It appeared to be two lizard like—no, two dragons guarding a silver plated ruby, the earrings matching the beautiful gem. The dress itself was a deep maroon, matching the box it came in. The material felt silky to the touch, and its length was much too long for you to fully admire from your seated position. You glanced at Sylus, holding the dress up to your chest. “It's beautiful Sy. But, when would I wear this?” He chuckled at the awe on your face. “We have dinner tomorrow.” He stood up, retrieving the record player from the bathroom and setting it on the bed, re-spinning the vinyl and clasping your hand to pull you towards him. “It's somewhat of a winter’s ball. Now would be good practice.” You leaned into him, allowing the taller man to take the lead and sway you to the music.

“This is hardly ballroom dancing.” You mused, letting him twirl you around, feeling just as elegant in your bathrobe. “We’ll do it our way.” He took you in his arms, twirling the two of you around to the melody before placing you back down. You felt like you were walking on clouds, and as you gazed into the deep sanguine of his eyes, you realized that you’d hadn’t seen him today. From the ski mask obstructing the view of his face, the few hours you had spent apart entertained by the twins, and even in the bathtub, where you both had given in to your most carnal desires—the day had tossed you up into a storm, offering you little to no time to admire the man before you, who could effortlessly swept you off your feet, the man that has done everything—no matter how mundane, to satisfy you.

The time was now. You drank him in; the silver strands of his hair, still damp and moussed against his skin, perfectly matching the beautiful ivory frame of his eye lashes. His thin, perfect lips and the perfect slope of his nose- and of course, his eyes. Beautiful, intense scarlet bore into yours, a thousand unspoken words in his adoring gaze. As the song slowed to a stop, so did the two of you, your lips meeting again in sweet kiss, holding each other close unhurriedly pouring your hearts dry.

And as the day’s exhaustion caught up with you, the bed was welcoming. You laid against his body, his arm a comforting weight around your waist. Your body lost consciousness before your mind did, and you didn’t miss the amorous words he whispered into your ear.

Bloopers and ig posts!

Luke and Kieran crept into the cabin reserved for you and Sylus, Mephisto perched on Kieran’s shoulder. They looked around once, twice— before they entered. They had been instructed to light each and every candle Sylus had set out before you would arrive. Both to prevent the fire hazard and to ensure the candles were still lit once you came in. “Who knew the boss was so romantic?” Luke mused, taking the candle lighter and flickering on the tea lights around the tub. “I wonder how she managed to steal his heart” Kieran called back, bringing forth the small record player and vinyl, delicately placing it on the counter. The two of them swooned, admiring their handy work. Mephisto cawed a warming. You and Sylus were approaching. Alarmed, the two of them finished off the last of the candles, quickly shuffling towards the back window, hurriedly tumbling out when they heard the keys jingling in the lock. They landed hard in the snow, grunting as they tripped over each other trying to flee the scene, Mephisto following overhead.

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐇𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄.

💞 — in which malleus dreams of the waste land and finds him grieving you and the old friend of his you resemble.

💞 — malleus draconia x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. mentions of death, religion, and grieving.

💞 — 1.5k words. heavily inspired by the poem "The Waste Land" by T.S. Eliot. this is extremely experimental but i think the poem suits malleus for some reason.

April is the cruelest month. With the coming of spring came the warmth that would speed up the decay of corpses long buried beneath the soil. Lively blossoms appear from under the earth, eating away at dead lovers for sustenance. Fallen soldiers are pulled in by weak branches, taken away to become the grass of next spring, hidden beneath layers of snow in the wintertime. 

This same grass would hear the laughter of children as a retired general held his boys on a sled, “Lilia, I’m scared,” but gentle hands would guide the young prince to hold on tightly. It was like flying down the mountains. Soon all three of them would laugh and fill the air with joy, but the dead could hear nothing. Not the crows above their tombstones, and not the laughter layers above their corpses.

It was not Malleus's hands which created this Waste Land, but his eyes witnessed it. Fae did not need sleep for energy as other creatures did, but when he did sleep, it became a spiritual experience. He would find himself in the Waste Land. Was this place far into the future, or far into the past? 

When he looked to the side, he caught the sight of someone. He recognized this person, “Child of man,” he uttered, the only sound in this land aside from the crumbling hopes of the families whose sons and daughters had fallen in battle, “You gave me hyacinths first a year ago. They called me the hyacinth prince,” but you had never come back. He had known nothing.

A spirit sings, those are pearls that were his eyes, nothing of him that doth fade, but doth suffer a sea-change, into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. Your hair was wet, fear death by water. But there was no water in this desolate land. 

The soil was dry and cracked, thirsty. Malleus could remember it vividly. Dancing with the young nymphs by the lake. Only then did he realize how fragile human life was. Water, which the earth cried for with its cracked form, water which filled the lungs and sank bodies. 

Unreal city, where the nymphs had departed, and hot mountains reigned as palaces. The dogs barked helplessly at tombstones. The sweet river ran softly as Malleus sang his song. The nymphs had departed, leaving him alone, sitting at the riverbank, reaching into the water and finding nothing. Dread pooled in his stomach, the young prince bent forward further and continued to grasp for nothing. All he found was burning hot rocks.

O Lord Thou pluckest me out.

He loomed over the young prince Malleus, dressed in flowing robes. Stoic but not comforting, a figure of great power to guide the fallen soul from the river of the valley to the river traversed by the ancient soldiers. Malleus had noticed this figure before, when he brought his friend to dance with the nymphs, “Who is that with you?” he asked his friend, “It is always you, me, and that third figure which follows you. Who are they?” He learned that day who that figure was, his scythe shimmered under the moonlight once the nymphs had departed.

That was the beauty of the Waste Land. There was no water to pull young friends apart, dragging them with the current before young fae hands could come and save them. It was dry and sandy and rocky. No water. No life. He looked to the child of man, you watched him with pearly eyes, “If there had been water, we should stop and drink,” he said, looking back out into the miles of cracked earth. It was better there was no water, your weak human body could fall in and drown. No nymphs to come rescue you, just a young fae prince.

You had come back to him in the shape of another. A new child of man, with hyacinths in their warm human hands. Datta. Those compassionate hands which traced over a broken horn with the gentleness of a mother. Dayadvham. It was hard to control his urges. His dear friend was back and all he could think was to hide them away from water, leaving the land to suffer in his selfishness. Damyata. 

All he could think was that young friend, dead for longer than a fortnight, dragged by the lake and rivers to the sea. They could not hear the cry of gulls, tugged down by the sea's cruel currents. Malleus begged that all who gazed into the sea thought of his friend, once as lively and handsome as you.

The chapel was empty, all he could hear was the rattle of bones and the cawing crows. It was a lone building standing weakly in the wasted land, doors and windows swaying open with the wind. Malleus stepped inside, following after you. He sees you, kneeled in the front. Some prayer falling from your lips, “Child of man?” he calls, but you do not answer.

He comes closer and then kneels beside you, gazing up at the stained glass figure of a mother he would never know. Regal, with dark hair cascading like the river which took his friend to the sea. Malleus could hear your prayers a bit better now, “O Lord Thou pluckest me out.”

The chapel's doors slammed shut. There was a flash of lightning, illuminating the green eyes in the stained glass figure and then came the patter of rain. It sounded more like the footsteps of fall soldiers ready to drag his beloved to the river of the dead. Rain. Water. 

The Waste Land was dark when Malleus left the chapel at your side, rain falling over his pale skin. He followed you to the shore, sitting down beside you, watching this ocean where Phlebas the Phoenician and his friend rested. You looked just like them. Sounded like them too, with feet desperate to dance in danger among the happy nymphs. These fragments of the past seemed to wash up with the sea foam. He looked at you. You looked at the sea. His eyes were made of pearls. 

Madame Sosostris warned of the death by water.

He could see your lips tremble from the cold, but he could not move to offer a coat. He was the viewer of the Waste Land, he could not intervene. 

When Malleus woke up in his dorm room, he was quick to sit up and look for a certain figure. His panicked hands reached out and touched the sheets beside him, only relaxing once they felt the familiar heat of human flesh. Translucent layers of skin covering all the most vital things to him. Those veins and arteries. All it would take was a sharp enough blade and some time and soon they would be like Phlebas the Phoenician. He sighed, “You are too fragile.” 

You stirred due to the movements around you and turned to face Malleus, bleary eyes shimmered like pearls under the dim light which came from the moon outside of his window, “Are you alright?” you ask as if you had not been the very cause of all his fright.

He merely nodded and laid back down, tugging your figure close to him, burying his face like a casket into your hair, “Worry not about me, little human,” he said. Your prayers in the chapel of the Waste Land had frightened him, but it was you who brought back the water to fertilize the land.

“I always worry about you,” you said, as if you were invincible and he was the one who could easily slip into a river and be dragged away by the currents. Your warm arm slipped around him to keep him close.

Malleus could feel your lashes against the skin of his neck. Your worry was a naive endeavor. He was fully capable of protecting himself. It was you he worried for, with this warm human body that could become cold so quickly. His hands dug into the plushness of your figure, clinging to whatever he could like a desperate mourner at a funeral, “You needn’t worry about me,” he repeats.

“I think I do,” you muttered. At the bedside were the hyacinths you so carefully picked today. Out in the forest, far from the campus. Little flowers sharing a single stem, holding onto one another like desperate lovers.

If he could have, Malleus would have stuck himself to you forever. He would have dug himself a place in your skin and lived there, peacefully watching the pulse of your heart. Instead, he just sighed once more, wistfully this time. It had rained in the Waste Land, fertilizing the cracked earth. Grass would grow and freeze in the winter before April came and tugged the bodies of fallen soldiers into the soil. Hyacinths would grow for a reckless child of man to pick.

But right now, he was in the comforts of his sheets with his beloved. His eyes fluttered shut and he did not dream.

Shantih. Shantih. Shantih.

©rooksamoris 2025. do not steal or translate my work!

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[starfyhero2]

Chapters 14 and 15 of the Rocking Harmony AU is now live!