true-colors-zine

[true-colors-zine]

👀‼️We see the excitement in the air, so without further ado here is the application for the True Colors Charity Zine!

This zine will be focused on finding one’s light in the darkness, or in other words moments of hope, resilience, love, and community in the face of hardships. On that note, all profits from sales will be donated to a select charity (as chosen by our contributors).

We are looking for Page Artists and Authors, both of whom will be featured in the pages of the zine book itself, as well as Merch Artists, who will work in tandem with the moderators to design merch items like stickers, patches, digital wallpapers, and more! If you would like to help our creators along the way, you can also apply as a Beta-Reader. Please note that space within the zine is limited, so we encourage our applicants to apply for as many roles as you are willing to fill to increase your chances of claiming a spot. You can find more information on the application itself as well as the F.A.Q., Terms of Participation, and Creation Guidelines posts linked at the top of our blog. And of course please send any other questions our way!

If you are interested in purchasing the zine and/or extras when it is finished, whether or not you are applying to contribute, we are still accepting responses for our Sales Interest survey. Results of which will help us determine pricing and shipping expectations. There is also a place for you to indicate if you would like to be notified via email once preorders open.

Applications close on March 31st

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Timeline of Events and Deadlines

Applications open: March 1st

Applications close: March 31st

Emails are sent to all applicants: April 5th-April 8th

Ideas/concepts accepted: April 5th-April 23rd

Creation period: April 5th-July 12th

Halfway check-in: May 24th

Two weeks left check-in: June 28th

Final pieces due: July 13th

Preview posts allowed after submission of finished piece starting July 13th

Assembly of zine file/prep for printing: July 13th-20th

Preorders open: TBD

Preorders close: TBD

Leftover sales open (while supplies last): TBD

Zine Orders shipped: TBD

Donation of funds raised from sales made to charity: TBD

Zine art may be posted to artists’ social media: TBD

[true-colors-zine]

🌸Hello again!🌸 Just in time for spring, it’s time to announce our new charity zine project: ✨🌟The True Colors Zine🌟✨

With plans for printed and digital copies, as well as a variety of merch extras, one of our goals is to raise money for a charity voted on by our contributors. We would like to offer our wares internationally, but first we would love to hear from you! Below is a survey where you can tell us if you would be interested in buying any zine items and if so, where we might need to ship them to. We would just like to get a general idea of which countries and regions for now so we can do all of the appropriate research.

Zine Sales Interest Survey

Applications opening soon 👀🙌✨

[true-colors-zine]

All of my work done for the @sing-it-togetherzine !! Working on this fan project was an amazing experience and I am grateful to have had a part in it. And I'm extremely honored that I had the opportunity to make the cover art, as well as the stickers and main logo!! Truly this zine came out so amazing, EVERYONE knocked it out of the park with their contributions. If you haven't flipped through it already, then what are you waiting for!!

Download our zine to see more, and its free!!

(Missed out on this Trolls project and want to be a part of one someday? Well stay tuned, we may be cooking something up...)

[true-colors-zine]

To Listen and To Love [ @sing-it-togetherzine ]

Ships: Past Creek/Poppy, Broppy

Warnings: N/A

AO3 L!nk in Comments!

When Creek first asked Poppy out, she couldn’t say she wasn’t excited. Creek was one of her bestest friends and had been for some time since they were younger. However, there was a distant feeling in her gut she never truly understood. The only word that could really match even a bit was ‘apprehension’. She never understood this feeling at first.

He had no reason to not want to date Creek. He was fun, his song and dance just as lively as her own, and even when they were on a different beat, they matched up pretty well in their own harmony. He was also very attractive and had a very calm and caring personality.

Though sometimes, Poppy would question what she felt and in what way. It wasn’t like she was very deep in the dating scene. Any dates she went on were casual and just to have a good time. There had never been anything serious in her life. She wasn’t really a serious person.

Poppy always felt like she was floating above the world, for better or for worse. Maybe a part of her had hoped that Creek would help bring her back down. That their feet would stand on equal ground.

And yet… she didn’t feel like that at all.

Instead, she found herself being pulled down but far below him. Creek positioned himself on a pedestal above her and everyone around them. Poppy supposed it wasn’t all that bad. He wasn’t mean to anyone, and he didn’t really put her or anyone else down exactly… It was hard for her to explain, even in her own mind. So, she never voiced these feelings.

But their relationship felt almost… empty to Poppy. If that string of thought even made sense. She loved Creek the same as she loved her other friends. She had no reason to believe he didn’t return those feelings for her. And yet some days, she felt as if they were part of completely different worlds, looking at each other through a tear in reality.

She never did like thinking so deeply into her own emotions. They were uncomfortable and confusing; it was best to just let them lie low and ignore them.

So she convinced herself she was happy with Creek. Why wouldn’t she be? They sang and danced and did all the couple-y things she expected of them.

That was until the burgens had found them again.

Her worry for her friends was what drove her forward during those short days. She was grateful to have Branch by her side as they quested towards Burgentown. It was nice to not be alone. Brance was good company.

Sure he was grouchy and a down right pessimist at times, but even though they were complete opposites, Poppy really felt like he cared. He had come for her, to help her. Even at the risk of his own life, Branch was by her side. It meant a lot in a way she could hardly describe.

At one point during their journey it seemed curiosity had gotten the best of him. Branch had broken a moment of silence with the question: “So what do you see in him?”

Poppy turned back to him with a raised brow. “Huh?”

“Creek, I mean,” he explained. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the stick he had been sharpening to a fine point for the last hour as they walked.

The question had taken her off guard for a moment. She struggled to find the words and then struggled more when she couldn’t understand why she was struggling in the first place.

“He’s nice,” she started and immediately regretted it. ‘He’s nice’ is what you said about a failed date that you would be awkward ever running into again. It was not something you said about your steady, serious boyfriend of multiple years.

Branch clearly mirrored these thoughts as he looked up at her with an unamused expression.

“He’s a fantastic singer and is great in a harmony.”

That earned her an eye roll.

“He’s hot.”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t make up for lack of personality.”

Poppy frowned at her companion. “Creek is great,” she insisted with a huff. Her tail flicked in frustration as her walking leaned more towards stomping. “He’s caring and considerate. He’s friendly and full of so much life and joy, unlike some people. He’s a great dancer and—”

“He never lets anyone lead.”

“Huh?” Poppy took pause at the words. She stopped walking and looked back at Branch.

The other was seemingly satisfied with his pointy stick as he shoved it into his bag and tossed the rock over his shoulder. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he huffed out as he kept walking. As he passed her, he gave her a side glance. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve never once seen that guy dance in step to someone else’s rhythm. He never listens to anyone else. He just rolls past them and expects everyone to follow.”

Poppy stared at the back of Branch’s head as he stopped walking just a little ahead of her. His tail flicked back in an emotion she couldn’t decipher and didn’t hear in his voice.

Branch looked back at her. “Guy’s like that are gonna realize real quick that one day people are just gonna stop following them and they’re gonna be on their own.”

Was that… experience? No way. Poppy shook her head and started after Branch again. There was no way Branch had some secret toxic ex story she’d never heard about. Branch hardly ever came out of his bunker, let alone to date someone.

But still… the almost familiar sorrow that laced those words. As if he had experienced something similar to what he described. Was he the one left alone? Or did he have to stay as someone else walked away? She had no way of telling.

Finally, she let out an annoyed scoff and said, “You’re wrong, Branch. Creek isn’t anything like that.”

But Branch was right.

He was actually turning out to be right about a lot of things, and pretty often. It was getting annoying.

When Creek reached into the bars to gently caress her cheek, he had that same calm smile he seemed to always wear. It wasn’t grounding; it wasn’t uplifting. Creek was dropping her and the others like a bad tune. Calm and collected as ever without a regret in his features.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said with a disinterested smile. Any sympathy lacing his expression was hollow and empty. He placed the bell in his hair as Chief picked him back up. “But this is for the best, my Poppyseed.”

Poppy fell to her knees. The weight that dropped down into her gut was far too heavy for her legs to hold. The sight of Creek leaving, heading off to help doom the rest of their family and friends, soundtracked by the sound of her heart shattering and then stopping all at once.

When the village was dropped into the pot, Poppy thought she would have cried. However, when her knees hit the cold metal, all she felt was numb.

“You were right,” she had whispered to Branch. “The world isn’t all cupcakes and rainbows.” She pulled her arms around herself. “And you were right about Creek…” her last words were almost too soft to be heard. However, Branch was turning out to be really good at picking things like that up. She wouldn’t be surprised if he caught every word.

When her colors went dim, she expected that to be it. She would be eaten with everyone else. She would die knowing she’d gotten everyone else killed. She’d die wondering if Creek ever actually loved her.

And then Branch began to sing.

She hadn’t realized it was him at first. She knew everyone in the village’s singing voices. But she had never heard Branch sing. When she looked up to see that he was the one serenading her, she almost didn’t believe it.

When he picked her up off her knees, she tried to pull back. Fold back in on herself in her numbing sorrows. But he didn’t let her. Branch kept going, kept singing, kept trying to make her smile.

She didn’t understand why then. It wasn’t like bringing back Poppy’s smile was going to save their lives that day. Sometimes she wondered… if maybe her smile was just something Branch wanted to see before he died.

His voice would have been a nice last thing to hear if she had died that day, she’d thought.

But they didn’t die. Bridget rescued them and Poppy was once again driven by the love of a friend. She lead the others back in to save Bridget and to show the burgens the truth of happiness.

When they had gone back home that night, Poppy found herself at the edge of the village, watching the other trolls run back to their huts with a song in their steps.

Poppy, however… she still felt a pang of emptiness stirring around in her core. She ran a thumb over the lip of her cowbell. Good instruments last, she supposed. She wished she could say the same about relationships.

Branch startled her, coming up next to her and lightly touching their shoulders to get her attention.

“Hey,” he greeted. “You doing okay?” He let his concern be both visual and audible. It was a small but kind gesture that Poppy appreciated.

“He was… nice,” Poppy sighed out as she brought the bell up to her face to hide whatever twisted and pained expression she was failing to keep away. It was then that the numbness subsided, and she finally felt the tears come. The worst timing, she’d thought in the moment.

But then Branch’s arms were around her, pulling her into a loose and gentle embrace.

“It’s not hug time,” she sniffled past her tears.

“I just thought you could use one,” he parrated back.

Poppy let go of her bell and threw her arms around Branch. Letting herself cry into his shoulder. Letting herself be sad where no one else could see. Hidden away at the edge of the village in Branch’s arms.

***

Poppy and Branch had started dancing. Not like normal dancing. More like dancing around each other and the weird mutual feelings that were bubbling in their stomachs like boiling glitter.

At least, that was what Poppy was feeling.

Since the whole Burgen Rescue thing, Branch had been spending more time out of his bunker and in the village. He’d started spending more time with the other trolls. He’d started spending more time with Poppy.

And Poppy was thrilled every time.

Branch was singing and dancing with everyone. He was singing and dancing with Poppy.

She felt like she was on cloud nine lately. Her feet hadn’t touched the ground in ages.

She didn’t understand it at first. She realized everything she was feeling was all very new. She’d never felt these emotions before, and she had no idea how to respond. For a while, she tried pushing them away. She never did like thinking too hard about her emotions. But every time she pushed them away, they came back with a vengeance.

Every time Branch smiled at her. Every time they sang in harmony, with or without the rest of the village. Every time he even touched her.

Poppy thought she was dying at one point. Clearly whatever ache in her stomach that pestered her when she was around Branch was some sort of organ eating parasite. That was a plausible thought process. Not.

When she finally realized what it was, she felt sick.

She liked Branch. Like, like liked him.

And she near immediately decided she was never going to act on these feelings and hoped they died.

It would just ruin everything! That was what she’d been telling herself, at least.

Her last relationship (and really her only relationship) had been a bust. Like, the biggest bust in busting history. She was pretty sure a bust had not busted like that since forever.

The truth of the matter was that she didn’t really feel over Creek. She’d realized whatever she felt for him definitely wasn’t what would have normally warranted such a committed relationship. She’d also realized that the only commitments really happening were Poppy committed to Creek and Creek committed to himself. But that didn’t change the fact that he was her friend. He was her first real relationship. And he betrayed everyone.

He hadn’t really cared about her. Or, if he did, he didn’t care about her when it mattered most. When their lives were on the line.

And even forgoing any continuous hauntings of Creek in her memories, Branch was easily becoming one of her bestest and closest friends. What if she ruined that?

That thought was a lot less of a concern for her and if anything was just a worry, she let herself latch on when she didn’t want to think about Creek or the stress of like liking Branch anymore. After all, she’d gone out with just about all her friends.

From fun casual dates with Guy Diamond and Biggie, to that one time a teen Poppy and teen Suki decided they wanted to be each other’s first kiss. All because they were too excited about kissing someone for the first time.

Poppy was friends with everyone, and having other more flirtatious moments with any of them didn’t change any of their friendships. And she knew Branch wouldn’t be like that. Branch cared about her.

Every time she thought about how much he cared about her, that feeling of a parasite eating her guts came back. But it wasn’t a parasite. It was just her being in lo-like. In like. She was in like like with Branch. Sure.

Poppy could have cried with joy when the note from Queen Barb found its way to her. It was something new and something other than her emotions to think about for a bit.

Of course, Branch was against it all from the start. But Branch was against things all the time. Not to mention that even in his protests, Branch still followed after her. He was just a sour worry wort and Poppy continued to assure him it would all be fine.

And then it wasn’t fine.

The classical trolls had already been attacked. The country trolls wouldn’t even listen to them. Everything was falling apart, no matter how much she insisted it would be fine.

And then Branch was upset with her.

And then they were arguing.

And then Branch was walking away.

And then he stopped. He looked forward. “Why do I care about you more than anybody else in the world?” He looked back at her, his face full of something so sad and so… lonely.

Time stood still. It was only a moment. He couldn’t have looked back at her for longer than a few seconds, even if it felt like hours. And then he was walking away.

She reached out for him but stopped.

She’d hurt him. Poppy had hurt Branch.

Branch had followed her into this whole mess. He’d backed her up the whole time. And not once did she stop to even listen to him.

She didn’t listen to her father; she didn’t listen to Biggie; she didn’t listen to Branch.

“He never listens to anyone else. He just rolls past them and expects everyone to follow.” Her memory of Branch’s voice provided her. “One day people are just gonna stop following them and they’re gonna be on their own.”

She felt a rock land in her gut. The realization of her own hypocrisy slapped her in the face along with Branch’s words sharper than anything she’d ever felt.

She pulled the string out of her hair and looked down at it in her hand. The way it shimmered and sparkled against her paw pads. In that moment, she made up her mind. She gripped the string tight, shoved it back in her hair, and decided that she was going to fix all of this.

Of course then she almost immediately got captured by Barb, but who was really counting.

She tried to talk to Barb, but the rock queen wouldn’t listen to her. Just as Poppy hadn’t listened to anyone before.

She tried to save her friends, her music, everyone's music but it all shattered. The light and color of every troll before her fading away at once. The strings crumbling to dust before her eyes. The darkness enveloped her and once again she was in that damned pot.

She was in that dark, metal pot feeling hopeless. Lost. Numb…

And then there was a beat. And that beat grew. And Poppy did the only thing she knew how to do. Just like Branch had done when he heard the melody of the bracelets in that dark pot.

Poppy sang.

And there was music.

Poppy was ecstatic to see this other side of Barb. She’d made a new friend and Barb smiled with a joy Poppy hadn’t seen before. It was everything she’d wanted.

And then there was Branch. “I love that we’re different,” she’d told him.

“And I love you,” he’d responded.

And at his words, that parasite in her gut broke. Instead of a stirring uncomfortable weight in her stomach, it was butterflies in her chest, threatening to fly out of her at a moment’s notice. And they did. And with them came: “I love you too.”

After things calmed down, she did apologise properly. Not without a few tears, of course. But Poppy never felt scared to cry in front of Branch and it wasn’t as if Branch was very dry eyed during their talk either.

“I never wanna make you feel like that again,” she’d whispered in their tight embrace.

“I know,” he whispered back. “Thank you, Poppy.”

She pulled back, just enough to see the smile he was giving her. Full of love and adoration like she had never seen. “For what?” she questioned, near breathless at the sight before her.

“For coming back,” was all he replied with.

She didn’t really understand in that moment. If anything, she had been the one who needed to thank him for constantly following her, for bringing her to clarity when she needed it, for just being there in that moment, in every moment. But it was clear this meant a lot to Branch, so instead, she just pulled back into the hug with a tight squeeze.

[true-colors-zine]

🎉The zine is live!🎉

The wait is finally over🥳 We would like to thank everyone for their patience while our crew put together the most fun, colorful, gorgeous, and all-around fantastamazing zine ever! Head on over to Gumroad for a free download.

[true-colors-zine]

My Mini-Comic Entry for the Sing-It-Together Trolls Zine! 😊🌷🌸🌷🌸 I’m deeply honored to have been a part of this wonderful project along with many other incredibly talented writers and artists! 🩷🧡💛💚🩵💜 Check out the rest of the entries over on GumRoad! ❤️❤️❤️

[true-colors-zine]

Here is my submission for the @sing-it-togetherzine !!!

I can't believe how fast working on this zine went....

I just remember stressing over my bio final while drawing Branch being all relaxed ಥ_ಥ

[true-colors-zine]

Addition~

This was my part in the sing-it-together zine!! Hope you enjoy!!

go see the full thing at @sing-it-togetherzine and download it!!

Screams.

That’s all that he can hear.

Running. 

He doesn’t seem to be in control of his moving legs, but they’re moving.

Sweat. That’s what he feels running down his cheek.

Exhaustion. Regret. Realization…

John Dory sits up in bed suddenly, gasping for breath and air. He rubbed his hand through his hand, looking around, his hands moist from perspiration.

His heart slowed down a bit, and he gripped his chest. 

Breathe in… breathe out…

He had reminisced way too much last night, causing the nightmare. Sighing, he got up/

John Dory didn’t want to take off his pajamas, so he just stumbled out of his room in the bunker into the living room.

Ever since the bros had reunited, both John Dory and Floyd had decided to stay with Branch in his bunker, while Bruce continued to live at Vacaay Island, and Clay with Viva at Putt Putt Village.

John Dory wished that he had a girl to stay with at the moment. He needed some kind of calm down. 

That’s what coffee and Rhondas are there for.

John Dory tricked over himself towards the kitchen and heated up some leftover coffee. He knew Branch was probably up somewhere, he always was, double checking the premises around Pop Village. Thank goodness he always left coffee.

John Dory drowsily looked up at the clock. Before 5.

Yup. Branch was definitely up by now.

He poured the coffee into his cup and went straight back to his room.

He passed his calendar and stopped to look at it. John knew this day all too well.

It haunted him. Just like this day had 20 years ago.

~~~

“Everyone! Take shelter! Under rocks, hide in between leaves! Anything!”

All the trolls, despite their screams, heard his strong firm voice clearly. They took his advice, sliding beneath rocks and using their hair to blend in.

They could hear the great big feet stomping towards their tree. They could feel it.

The ground shook as the big purple monster stepped closer to the tree. The trolls lost their balance as they tried to rush to hide.

Trollstice had snuck up on them this year. No one had been ready.

“Blend in!” King Peppy continued to shout, and through their struggles most managed to do so.

John Dory ran along with the trolls, his brothers supposedly following behind. His parents were right beside him and he puffed along.

He kept glancing at his parents, waiting for them to tell him a place safe enough for him to hide.

It never happened.

His parents seemed to be a bit dazed and confused, unsure of where to put their children. Their heads swiveled frantically, both whispering and pointing.

John Dory had noticed lately how his mother had been unsteady, having to lean against their father much more and such.

He wondered what was making her so exhausted. 

“John Dory!” his father called. “Look ahead, son! Don’t look behind!”

“Make sure your brothers are caught up as well!” the mom puffed next to him.

John Dory’s eyes crinkled in concern but nodded. He turned straight ahead and kept jogging on his path, his determination mode set on as he began looking both right and left for his brothers.

Spruce wasn’t far behind, on his right, gasping for air as he ran too, holding their brother Clay’s hand.

Good, they were safe.

Now for Floyd, the youngest…

~~~

John Dory slipped his vest on, then his shorts, and placed his goggles over his forehead.

Another day not so like the others.

A day full of flashbacks just like every year.

Sighing, he began to march out of his room, slowly but carefully, his vision playing tricks on him in the dark as he slipped on a few pieces of paper that he knew Floyd had left from brainstorming song ideas.

He didn’t have time to get annoyed right now and tramp into his younger brother's room complaining like he might’ve any other day.

He needed to get to the elevator.

He needed to get outside.

He just needed air.

Quickly, slurping the last of his coffee, and gripping the handle of the mug tightly, he rushed toward the elevator and pulled the lever.

The elevator jolted up and soon he was outside of the bunker.

John Dory set his goggles over his eyes and tucked the mug into his hair. He knew exactly who he could go to at a time like this.

Within minutes of fast-walking he was approaching a big field of nice long grass that he knew that his baby girl Rhonda was obsessed with rubbing and sleeping in.

And there she was, fast asleep in the blades of green, looking extremely satisfied with life.

The opposite of how JD was feeling right now.

“Rhonda!” He shook her and she woke, blinking slowly and looking at him, confused.

Without explaining, he entered his armadillo vehicle and opened the sunroof and climbed to the top.

Slowly he took big gulps of air as he removed his goggles and lay on his back, arms behind his head, looking up into the infinity of the sky above.

His heart began to slow.

~~~

Oh no.

Floyd?! Where was he?!

John Dory felt his heart quicken even faster– which moments before he hadn’t realized was even possible.

“Keep going! No one left behind!” 

He could hear King Peppy’s voice way behind him, still shouting to the other trolls like him and his family who couldn’t find a hiding place that hadn’t been occupied yet.

It wasn’t until moments like these that you realize how many trolls there actually are.

He could feel the bergen getting closer, its footsteps shaking the tree more and more violently.

He had to find–

“Floyd!” his mother cried out behind him as she and his father caught up. “Where’s Floyd?!” Her voice strained with worry as the screams from the trolls got louder.

Suddenly, they felt a cold presence behind them.

Everyone turned to see a humongous purple pimply hand reach down and snatch a troll.

The troll shrieked and immediately, along with John Dory’s dad, rushed to grab the trolls’ hands and pull him away from the bergen’s strong grip.

They tugged and yanked, and suddenly the troll popped out of the bergen’s hand.

They all fell backwards in a heap as the hand pulled back quickly.

John Dory heard the bergen grunt in annoyance and his mom began to cry.

He needed to find Floyd! Where was that–

“John!! Bruce!!” 

Immediately, the BroZone family turned to see Floyd, his leg stuck underneath a big tree branch that had fallen.

He was a while away, almost fifteen yards, and the bergen’s hand was beginning to dip down for more trolls as more trolls began to scream. His dark pink eyes were swimming in tears as he reached out towards them.

“Floyd! Someone has to–” their mom began to panic, attempting to run towards her son.

“No, you stay!” Her husband held her back. “The boys and I will go. Keep running to safety!”

“No, but-”

John Dory began to race towards his brother, ignoring the arguing behind him, with Spruce right on his trail.

They dodged the terror-driven trolls and the thought of the hand dropping down and grabbing them at any moment encouraged their feet to go faster.

Finally, they were at Floyd’s side. 

“I was trying to catch up with you, but I slipped, and this tree must not have been strong because it fell from all the running–”

“It’s alright! Pull!” 

They yanked as John Dory felt his arms almost grow numb from pain and the cold wind that whipped past them, making him shiver.

Cold wind? It was mid-summer…

~~~

John Dory sat on his back, watching the clouds part and make way for the sun. His mind raced, and with his mind his heart began to beat faster again.

His breaths became a bit rapid and he tried to slow it down, squeezing his eyes closed and counting backwards from thirty.

It wasn’t working, dangit.

He wished the memories wouldn’t rush into his head as fast as they were, the way they did every year on this day.

Every other day he could pretend like it never happened. Something his brothers sometimes loathed. But he couldn’t emotionally handle this.

He couldn’t physically handle it either.

JD felt the sweat slowly trickle down his forehead, and he took out a cloth and attempted to wipe it away, but he wasn’t entirely focused on the warm drops dripping down his face. His mind was searching for some kind of reason not to remember this day years ago.

Rhonda could feel the tense and stressful vibes in the air, and she scrunched her eyebrows nervously. She began to vibrate and purr, something that had helped John Dory the few times this had happened to him.

John Dory felt the vibrating of his armadillo’s purrs underneath him, and he felt his arm move to caress the top of his pet. His eyes closed and his breaths came out rushed as he continued to struggle with his thoughts.

Rhonda made a small noise, like a loving sort of growl, at first quietly, and then again. Louder this time.

John Dory didn’t notice. The world seemed to be slipping away from him.

~~~

Floyd was hoisted up by his arms around John Dory and Spruce’s shoulders, as they tried to rush forward where their parents had been attempting to stay while moving forward at the same time.

Floyd’s leg was limp, but not broken. Only a small sprain that should be completely well within a month or so. The pain wasn’t awful, he promised his brothers.

They were near their parents, and Clay rushed to meet them. “They want us to run with Grandma!” Clay gasped, bent over as he tried to quickly catch his breath. “Mom can’t keep running. She’s too tired.”

John Dory looked at his mother, his tough, strong and determined mother, confused. Why was she so exhausted so easily?

“Boys!!” Grandma Rosiepuff, as strong as ever, rushed right by them, grabbing Clay’s arm as she rushed by. “Keep up with me!”

“But Mom and Dad–” Spruce began.

“They’re alright!” Grandma promised. “Just keep running. We’re heading into the cover under that rock, right ahead!”

As she kept running, John Dory and Spruce nodded at each other. There was no point in arguing. They kept running with Floyd, urging Clay to keep close behind.

John Dory’s gaze kept onto his parents as long as he was close enough to see their facial features.

It looked like his mother was crying. She was on the ground, her dress completely dirty, her navy blue eyes filled with sorrow but determination as she looked up at her husband, who was kneeling down beside her, his eyes also incredibly watery. She was telling him something, and he was listening and nodding, eyebrows lowered in dedication.

Then he pulled her up. John Dory could mouth the words “I love you” tremble from his father’s lips as his dad turned his head to see him watching.

And then his parents began to run in the opposite direction of everyone else. Towards a big field of long wavy grass.

What were they doing–?

“John Dory! Lookout!”

Clay’s voice brought John Dory’s eyes back to what was in front of him.

The big bergen hand lowering once again, the screams near him getting higher and more shrill, as it dipped and slammed against a big tree branch near them.

“Get ready to jump underneath the rock!” Grandma shouted, reaching for Clay as she began to run faster. 

The branch snapped and began to drop down toward them, right in front of the rock they were going to shelter in.

John Dory felt his arms unwrap from around his baby brother and push Floyd and Spruce in front of him, underneath the rock.

And then he felt his legs lower and then spring up and land right beside his brothers, falling onto his shoulder, as the branch fell just afterwards, in front of the big rock, blocking the entrance for them and the other trolls who had taken shelter under there.

Silence. Sobs. Darkness.

That’s what the next hour brought.

~~~

John Dory felt something crawl up next to him on top of Rhonda. 

He didn’t care. As long as this thing didn’t bother him.

His eyes stayed closed and his gasps didn’t slow as the memory continued to run through his mind.

Then he felt a hand. On top of his.

John Dory felt his conscious being brought back a little, drifting away a bit from the past. He felt his right eye open to see who had interrupted.

His mother’s navy blue eyes looked down at him, filled with worry and concern.

Wait, no… not his mother…

Branch.

Branch didn’t say anything, or do anything more than just rest his hand on top of his. He just sat up beside him, watching him carefully. Slowly his eyes moved from beside him to up at the sky, where it had quickly become bright and almost cheerful out.

John Dory wondered what he was thinking, and if he knew. But he didn’t want to find out. Not now. If Branch knew, he had to be the one to bring it up.

He was not in the state to talk first.

“I heard Rhonda. She seemed really stressed out, and I could tell from all the way from my bunker.” That was the first thing he said. 

Nothing about why John Dory was laying down on top of his armadillo in a blanket of sweat at seven in the morning.

John Dory wanted to say something smart alec– but he didn’t. He was too tired.

“I was out collecting berries earlier with Floyd. Poppy asked if I could for some kind of recipe she wanted to make for us. Some kind of improvement, she claims, of Fluffleberry cake.” He gave a light scoff, signaling that he felt that an improvement of that recipe was impossible, but at the moment that he didn’t really care.

John Dory considered ignoring him, slipping back into his half unconscious world.

“We got to talking and… Floyd told me.” Branch looked back at his oldest brother. “It’s alright. I know.” 

He wasn’t crying. But his voice had that certain edge to it.

John Dory’s eyes filled. His hand gripped Branch’s tighter. “You know…” His voice was hoarse with exhaustion and tears, but he felt relief run through him.

“I’m sorry, John Dory. I– I’m sorry…” Branch’s voice grew squeakier. “I know what this may feel like for you…. I definitely do.”

John Dory thought of how he must’ve dealt with Grandma’s death. How he did deal with her death.

“Do you struggle with this every year?” 

John Dory evaded the question. He looked at Branch devotedly. “That day wasn’t all

sorrow and loss, Branch. I did gain something.”

Now Branch’s eyes slowly filled a bit too, but he stubbornly wiped at them quickly, as if ashamed.

John Dory sat up next to him and gave a sigh as his heart went back to beating a slower pace once again.

~~~

It had been quiet for an hour or so. 

The branch outside of the rock turned out to not be as heavy as expected, and the trolls inside were able to easily move it away from the entrance.

Everyone walked out, in a daze, wondering where their family was, if they were alright, how many trolls the dreadful bergen had taken this time.

Grandma Rosiepuff took Floyd in her arms as she and her grandsons walked out into the bright sunlight also.

It was complete silence.

No one wanted to say anything, to guess that it was their family that got caught and taken away to be eaten.

John Dory couldn’t stand around not knowing however. He immediately rushed towards where his parents had hurried to an hour before, tears being whipped away from his eyelashes from the speed of his run.

The first voice of the hour called out to him, “John Dory! Sweetheart!”

Grandma.

But he wasn’t about to wait. He needed to know.

Into the field, he pushed back the long wavy grass, he called over and over for them. No response. The tears continued to fall as he searched the field.

The field was that big, however. He almost completely searched all of it within ten minutes. By then, his brothers and grandmother had met up with him, watching him search frantically.

Grandma’s face was already smeared with tears, and the boys watched, almost confused.

“Where’s Mom?” Floyd whispered.

Spruce hugged him closer, beginning to understand. 

John Dory finally reached the end of the field. He was sobbing now. 

Why them? Why did that awful thing have to take them?!

He pushed aside the last two blades of grass, and through his tears he saw something shimmer against the sun.

John swiped at his eyes and looked again. 

An egg. A blue egg.

John Dory rushed towards it. He knelt down on the dirt and carefully rested a hand on the egg. 

It was warm. It had just recently been set there, a couple hours ago at most.

But who would leave an egg–?

Then he saw it. Right beside the egg, was a pair of goggles. His dad’s.

He had left them there, knowing that John Dory would go looking for them, knowing that John Dory would find the egg, and knowing that if he saw the goggles then John Dory would know also.

The egg belonged to his parents.

To his mom.

John Dory grabbed the goggles and looked it over for a sign. Anything. 

A small note fell out.

John Dory, 

We knew you’d find this egg. We were going to tell you as a surprise at dinner but… well, surprise! Grandma already knows.

We want you to take care of it in the ways we won’t be able to while we’re away. Keep your new baby brother safe. Love him with everything within you, just like we would and will always. We know you will. It’s your way.  We love you and your brothers so much. No matter what happens, through thick and thin, always have each other’s backs. Make us proud. We know you will.

Love, Mom And Dad.                                                                                      

John Dory looked at the egg again. The tears fell freely as he reached out, took it carefully in his arms, and gave it a small and gentle hug.

~~~

John Dory was surprised to find Branch hugging him back. He was surprised he was hugging Branch at all.

But they sat there, together, bonding through a loss and a gain.

It was nice to know that Branch understood his pain. It was nice to know he had his brother back again.

John Dory pulled away and sniffled. “You remind me of Mom so much,” he chuckled, embarrassed.

Branch swiped at his face again. “How so?”

“You pretend to be a tough bean,” John Dory said, smirking slightly, “but you’re a softie.”

Branch rolled his eyes but gave him a watery smile. “I guess that’s what the ladies want, huh?”

“You bet!” John Dory laughed, nudging him. “But every now and then you show a bit of Dad.”

“Floyd was telling me you are basically Dad’s twin.” Branch raised an eyebrow at him.

“Exactly.” John Dory grinned.

Branch chuckled. They sat there for a while afterward, pondering, thinking in silence.

Branch had never met his parents. John Dory and his bros had no idea what happened to them- if they were alive, if they were eaten.

But it was still a major loss.

Yet, it had come with an amazing addition.

John Dory turned and grinned at his baby brother. 

Love him with everything within you.

He would never admit this but… that was pretty easy to do when it came to Branch.

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Full piece for @sing-it-togetherzine :)

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I can post my full piece for the @sing-it-togetherzine! The theme was relationships, so immediately I knew I had to do something with the most fashionable twin sisters 👗🪡 everyone's pieces are sososo good, please check out the full zine!! 🙌💖

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Here's my final piece for the @sing-it-togetherzine !!

I'm so happy the zine is finally out for all of you, truly it was a really fun experience (｡>﹏<｡)

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My piece in the @sing-it-togetherzine! At first I wanted to make a classic comic but the whole scrapbook theme was too tempting so I switched to making an illustration of an opened spread in a family memory book/scrapbook—a collage of photos, magazine clippings and written messages that you have to look through to piece together the story I originally wanted to tell. I tried to make it as coherent as possible though, so no worries. 😅

I focused on what got me so invested in the last film and then in the trolls fandom in the first place, and of course it's the whole brozone family backstory/drama plus the worldbuilding in general. So I wanted to show a lighthearted moment from the brothers' youth back at the troll tree:

I imagine a society that puts so much importance on singing and celebration would probably make a big deal out of kids' voices changing into their adult voices during puberty. In this case poor Clay has the embarrassing experience of having his voice completely mature in one quick dramatic voice break on stage while the brothers are performing their big number. The guy is completely mortified while everyone else is just celebrating and happy for him. 🥳🥳😳🥳

This zine was so much fun to be a part of! If you haven't yet, check it out. It's free and full to the brim with amazing drawings, stories and comics! 💕

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Here's my full piece for the Sing it together zine!! It was my first time making art for a zine and I had a lot of fun!!! Here are Bridget and Gristle with their beautiful baby!

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A New Reflection

by Nakira Taisho

Date Posted: (2025-01-18)

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Trolls (DreamWorks Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Queen Barb & Poppy (Trolls)

Characters: Poppy (Trolls), Queen Barb (Trolls), Carol (Trolls), Riff (Trolls)

Additional Tags: sing it together zine, girl group, Ear Piercing

Series: Part 8 of Trolls Tales

Summary: Queen Poppy builds a friendship with Queen Barb, through a girl group!

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Here's my piece for the @sing-it-togetherzine ! I had a lot of fun putting this together and I got to draw my two favorite trolls. The theme of the zine was relationships so I had to draw the eldest and the youngest naturally. I tried to pick flowers to symbolize their relationship and ones that reflect their similarities. Hopefully I didn't get anything wrong lol

Sunflowers- happiness, positivity and strength, loyalty

Monstera- transformation, growth, also seen as a symbol of strength and resilience

Forget-me-nots- Remembrance, sometimes used to remember the dead

Aloe Vera- grief, healing grief, sorrow

Lotus Flower- resilience, rebirth, and overcoming adversity

Gardenia- protection, hope, new beginnings, harmony, self-reflection

Purple Hyacinth- deep regret and sorrow, used to ask for forgiveness

Yellow Tulip- hope and new beginnings, happiness

White Tulip- associated with new beginnings

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"Maybe we could be alone...together, for a while?"

I can post my zine artwork now 😁

John Dory just found a baby Rhonda.

Rhonda has no thought behind those eyes but she likes this big guy who looks after her.