Trolls x reader cover art not mine

Branch x Sister!Reader

The day the Bergens came was the day everything changed.

You remembered the vibrant colors, the cheerful singing, and the feeling that nothing could ever go wrong in your world. You and your older brother, Branch, used to sing together every morning — your voices blending as the sun rose over the treetop village. He'd always be a little off-key, but you didn't care. Back then, he wasn't gray. He was bright, loud, and full of life.

But when the Bergens attacked and took Grandma Rosiepuff, Branch changed.

And in some ways, so did you.

Years Later...

You stood outside Branch's bunker, arms crossed, frowning at the heavy wooden door.

"Branch! I know you're in there. Open up!" you called.

No answer.

With an annoyed huff, you knocked harder. "Don't make me start singing. You know I'll do it."

The door creaked open just an inch, revealing one gray, suspicious eye.

"You wouldn't dare," Branch muttered.

You grinned. "Try me."

A long sigh came from the other side before the door opened fully. Your brother, dull gray and perpetually grumpy, stood there in his usual crossed-arm pose.

"What do you want, (Y/N)?" he grumbled.

You stepped inside before he could change his mind, looking around the cold, dark bunker. "You missed the big party. Poppy's organizing the biggest Trollstice anniversary yet. Everyone's celebrating."

Branch's face darkened. "Exactly why I stayed in here."

Your smile faded. It always stung a little, seeing him like this. The brother who once sang duets with you now treated music like a curse.

"Branch... it's been years. You can't hide forever."

"I'm surviving," he snapped. "Not hiding. And you should too. These parties — this noise — it's what got Grandma caught in the first place."

Your heart clenched. He always went there. Always twisted the memory like a knife.

"Grandma wouldn't want you to live like this."

Branch turned away. "I'm not discussing this."

Later That Day...

It was supposed to be a perfect day. Singing, dancing, hugging — all things you still loved, even if your brother didn't.

But when the Bergen Chef crashed the party and snatched away your friends — including Poppy's closest ones — your world shattered again.

You found Branch pacing inside his bunker when you ran back, panting, your face streaked with tears.

"They took them," you gasped. "The Bergens — they took Poppy's friends. I saw it. They're gone!"

For a split second, you saw something flicker in his eyes — fear. Pain. Guilt.

Then his mask slammed back into place.

"I told you this would happen," he muttered. "I told all of you."

"Branch!" you shouted, grabbing his arm. "You have to help! Please — Poppy's going after them! She'll get caught too. I... I can't lose her. I can't lose anyone else."

His jaw clenched. He looked at you — really looked at you — and for once, the wall cracked.

"...Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm not doing it for the singing. I'm doing it to keep you alive."