Prompt: Poppy needs a nap and so does Branch; AKA nap/snuggle time Broppy fluff?
um bold of you to assume i am not always 100% here for Broppy fluff
Ever since Poppy ended the war with the Bergens, the world has shot straight past weird, rolled right on through utterly bizarre, and landed, finally and firmly, in the realm of completely unbelievable.
Branch still can't wrap his head around half of it—he's blue, his skin a sharp burst of bright color, and when he looks in the mirror, a troll he doesn't know stares back at him, blue eyes and blue hair and shimmery silver freckles glittering faintly on his cheeks, and an easy, open smile settled on his face where he knows a scowl should be, and it's like he's staring at a stranger, at a Branch who just stepped out of a dreamworld, a sweet little sugar-bowl fantasy where it's all cupcakes and rainbows, where everything is beautiful and bad doesn't exist, where there are no such things as Bergens, where colors come back even if mothers and fathers and grandmothers don't, and he can't tear his eyes away from the troll on the other side of the glass, and hard as it is to believe, that is not even the craziest thing.
Because he has friends now, and that's even crazier. He goes to party after party after party, so many he loses count (it's still not as many as Poppy asks him to come to, but bright lights and loud music are always going to tie knots in his stomach and knots in his throat) and there are trolls besides Poppy who actually talk to him at these parties, who dance with him and drink with him and laugh with him, tell him jokes and stories and listen to him when he tells his own.
And he sings now.
In the quiet dark of the bunker, where no one else can hear, he sings, his hands shaking and sweating and his heart in his throat, crashing in his ears, but he sings anyway because he's been silent for twenty years now and he is not going to be afraid anymore.
It all feels like a dream.
And maybe it is.
Good things don't just happen to him, after all. Good things don't just fall into his lap like this, all nice and neat and perfect, all wrapped up in bright paper with shiny red bows on top, good things don't come his way, good things aren't meant for him, and maybe he should hold his breath a little longer, maybe he should steel himself a little harder, clench his fists a little tighter, maybe it really is all a dream, but—
—but if it's a dream, it's the most beautiful one he has ever had.
And he never wants to wake up.
And the craziest thing of all—crazier than the blue troll in the mirror every morning, crazier than the friends outside his door every day, crazier than his own voice echoing and echoing and echoing through the empty rooms every night—is that he is in Poppy's room, he is in Poppy's bed, and she's curled up at his side, fast asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his and her eyes squeezed shut, long black lashes fluttering lightly against her freckled, rosy cheeks. Her pink hair is plastered flat to the side of her face, sticking straight up like a tree, and Branch has never loved her more than he does right now, he's never loved her more than when she's like this—her favorite blue dress wrinkled, her makeup smudged, her topknot in tangles, and a small, sweet smile on her lips even in her sleep.
He knows he should wake her—the party's only an hour off, and she always likes to show up early, to be the first troll in the door, to say hello to everyone, to hug and talk and laugh with everyone before the music takes over, and she hasn't even put on her new dress, and she'll want to brush out her hair and redo her makeup when she gets a look in the mirror, and God knows he has plenty of things he needs to be doing, God knows he has so much work, he can't let her lay around on him all night—but she looks so tired (and so beautiful) and all he can do is tuck her fuzzy purple quilt around her bare shoulders, press a soft kiss to her brow, and shut his eyes, too.
(When he wakes up again, he wakes up in Poppy's room, in Poppy's bed, and she's curled up at his side, fast asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his, and it's not a dream.)
SURPRISE!! Little gift for the awesome @rmg91!! Princess Lilly having a sleepy sleep with her parents. They love her more than life. Branch would be asleep, but he’s too busy admiring how perfect she is. Something I imagine he does very often.
I hope you liiiiike iiit!
P.S. I still can’t wait for her to come along in the RP!!
For the AMAZING @rmg91, her absolutely adorable Broppy fan baby, Princess Lilly!!!! Such a sweet little ray of pure sunshine.
And I’m waiting impatiently for the day she becomes part of our RP, the most wonderful RP I’ve ever been part of, I might add. No contest, whatsoever. I honestly can’t thank you enough, for building such a beautiful world with me. In a time where everything feels so wildly bleak and terrifying, all the emotional feels-driven scenes and shared headcanons have just given me so much hope.
TWT trailer: So, as you can see, there are, in fact, other kinds of trolls. Several tribes of them to be exact, living in many different places all over.
Hi, I was the anon crying about HTTYD 3 last week and I just wanted to come say it still absolutely KILLS me that Toothless' babies are called NIGHT LIGHTS! I love them so much and I can't wait for Homecoming!!!
OH MAN, i’m sorry you had to suffer the unthinkable heartache called How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World. (colossal question: is httyd3 actually a film or just a few dozen tragedies in a trench coat???? discuss.)
And oh, my god, yes, “Night Light” is just such an adorable name 😭😭😭 we did not deserve,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, yeah!!! I’m so pumped to see more of the little guys in Homecoming!!
