HIII I SAW YOU HAVE REQUESTS OPEN AND I WANTED TO REQUEST :>>
idon't know if your comfortable with this but can i request twst 2nd years (replace kalim with leona) and what they do if their s/o is gone?
their s/o is dead so i wonder how they would mourn, how they take care of their s/o's grave, and how they cope without them?
i don't know if you accept requests like these but if you do then THANK YOU SO SO SOOO MUCH IN ADVANCE 🙏💕
SECOND YEARS + LEONA X READER
Where you died
How the boys would live the mourning process, how they take care of your grave, and how they cope without your death, with a live without you
Warning: This is hard angst. If you're a very perceptive person who visualizes a lot or empathizes with what you read, be prepared for a bit of a tear.
Leona acts like he doesn’t care. At first. But deep down, he’s unraveled. He doesn’t cry in front of anyone. He shuts down. He sleeps even more, not out of laziness— because he can only see you in dreams now. There’s a rawness behind his eyes when your name is mentioned, but he covers it with silence. He avoids people because he hates how they look at him—with pity, like they expect him to break. He already did. Just not where anyone could see it.
Leona visits your grave late at night, always when no one's around. He doesn’t bring flowers. Instead, he sits in silence, talking to you about the mundane. “Ruggie got on my case again. Jack pissed me off.” Things like that. Sometimes, he brings pebbles from Savannaclaw and stacks them on your grave. Small tokens that only he would understand. He leaves when the sun starts to rise. Always before anyone can catch him there.
Leona tells himself it’s better this way—that he was only going to ruin you in the end. That you were too good for him. But that doesn’t stop the grief from choking him. He keeps something small of yours—a ring, a scarf, maybe a notebook with your handwriting. On bad days, he holds it so tightly his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t move on. He just becomes colder, harsher. Your loss is the scar he never lets heal.
Riddle shuts down entirely. He doesn't cry—not at first. He goes numb. Rules become his lifeline. Structure. Order. Anything but feeling. But when he finds the last gift you gave him, tucked in a drawer, unopened—he collapses. He screams into his pillow. Breaks a teacup in his hands. Grief terrifies him because it's messy—and Riddle was taught to fear mess.
Riddle brings roses. Red, white, and blue—each carefully arranged. He memorizes the upkeep schedule of your grave, ensuring it’s spotless at all times. He even files complaints if the groundskeepers neglect it. When he visits, he reads aloud to you—poetry, or books you once loved. His voice is quiet. On your birthday, he always brings your favorite tea and pours a cup beside your grave. He doesn’t drink. Just… waits, in case you’re still listening.
Riddle reverts into old habits—strict routines, harsh punishments, stricter rules. But Trey knows. He sees the way Riddle’s hands shake. Eventually, Riddle softens—just a little. He keeps your photo on his desk, and he sometimes writes letters addressed to you, even though he never sends them. He studies healing magic obsessively. Not because he wants to bring you back—he knows he can’t. But because he never wants to lose someone like that again. You were his exception. His rebellion. His first real love. And he never quite recovers.
Floyd doesn’t react the way people expect. He laughs when he hears the news—but it’s not happy. It’s empty. Then he gets violent. He wrecks an entire hallway, shattering windows and breaking anything that reminds him of you. Then… he’s just gone. He withdraws so deeply into himself that not even Jade or Azul can reach him. He stops showing up to class. Stops smiling. The spark in his eyes is just gone. He mutters your name to himself like a lullaby.
Floyd doesn’t go often. When he does, it’s erratic. One day he’s calm, sitting by your grave with seashells and pearls he found. The next, he’s yelling at the sky, sobbing, asking why you left him alone. He presses his forehead to your headstone sometimes and just stays there for hours. Then he leaves, mood unreadable, but always more exhausted than before.
Floyd changes. He becomes moodier, but not in his usual way. He loses interest in his usual chaos. You were the one who made the world interesting, after all. He keeps something of yours in his jacket—maybe your old hairpin or bracelet—and clutches it when he’s angry or lost. When people ask about you, he snaps: “Don’t talk about them. Ever.” Sometimes, though, he swears he hears your laughter. And for a fleeting second, he smiles like he used to.
Silver is devastated, and it shows. He’s always been calm and emotionally steady, but your death shakes him to his core. He loses his rhythm—his duty falters, his naps grow deeper and longer. He wakes up crying from dreams where you’re still alive, only to remember you’re gone. His voice is softer now, as if anything louder might shatter him. He carries guilt. “Why couldn’t I protect you?” is a question that haunts him endlessly.
Silver visits your grave with quiet reverence. He brushes fallen leaves off the headstone with his hands, tends to the flowers, and replaces them often with lilies or whatever blooms you once loved. He kneels when he speaks to you, as if he still guards you even in death. He reads aloud fairytales you liked, letting the wind carry his words to wherever you might be. Silver doesn't rush. He stays until the stars come out. And sometimes he sleeps there. It's the closest he'll ever get to falling asleep cuddled up with you again.
Silver keeps a locket with your photo, tucked inside his shirt near his heart. He often touches it absentmindedly when lost in thought. Lilia, Sebek and Malleus worry about him, and while he remains gentle with them, there’s a sadness behind his smile. Silver believes you’re watching over him—so he tries to live a life you’d be proud of. It hurts. But that belief keeps him moving, one step at a time.
Ruggie pretends he’s okay. He makes jokes, forces a grin, but those who know him well notice the cracks—he laughs less, steals less, works more. He throws himself into being useful cause if he stops moving, the grief catches up. The first time he’s alone after your funeral, he breaks down hard. Punches a wall. Screams into his jacket. It’s the only time he lets himself fall apart.
Ruggie doesn’t visit often at first—not because he doesn’t care, but because it hurts too much. When he does, he always brings something: your favorite snack, some charm from the Sunset Savanna, a scrap of cloth from a hoodie you loved. He never stays long. Just stands there, hands in his pockets, voice low: “Hey… bet you’re still yelling at me from wherever you are. I can hear it.… I miss it.”
Ruggie becomes fiercely protective of the few people he has left. He values life more now, but laughs a little less. He keeps your last voice message in Magicam saved and listens to it sometimes under the covers at night. When he sees something you would’ve loved at the market, he stops and stares for a moment—then keeps walking. The pain never really fades. But he carries it like everything else: close to his chest, never letting it show unless he’s completely alone.
Azul is shattered, but he tries to intellectualize it. He tries to convince himself that grief can be processed in logical steps, denial, anger, bargaining. But that doesn’t stop him from breaking down in private, clutching the edge of his desk until his knuckles turn blue, trying to breathe through the panic of a world without you. He continues running the Mostro Lounge like nothing’s wrong. His smile is still polished. But behind the scenes? Azul can’t look at your favorite seat in the lounge without feeling like he’s drowning.
Azul dresses impeccably every time he visits your grave. It becomes a ritual He brings white roses, and small trinkets he made with his own hands. He kneels, brushing dust from your name. Sometimes his voice breaks. Sometimes he just sits in silence and lets the tears fall.
Azul spirals into overwork. He tries to fill the void you left with achievements, contracts—anything. But nothing is enough. He keeps your photo in the drawer of his desk, opens it during long nights, and murmurs to it like you’re still there. Jade and Floyd know. They say nothing, but keep a close eye on him. Azul never quite recovers. He simply learns how to live with a heart that echoes where your voice used to be.
Jamil becomes frighteningly quiet. His grief is organized, sharp, disciplined—he doesn’t lash out, but everything about him becomes colder. Internally, he’s drowning in guilt. He feels responsible somehow. He replays everything over and over, looking for what he missed. He doesn’t cry in front of others. But late at night, he folds your old letters and clothes, tears soaking into his palms.
Jamil treats your grave like a shrine. Every week, he brings fresh desert roses, cleans the stone, and places small food offerings from his own cooking—your favorites, made exactly the way you liked them. He never talks to you there. Instead, he meditates in silence beside the grave. Maybe he believes the words are already in his heart, or maybe it just hurts too much to speak them aloud.
Jamil becomes obsessed with control—over his routine, his environment, his emotions. He starts studying harder, sleeping less, doing more. But it’s all a way to avoid facing the pain. He wears a bracelet you once gave him and never takes it off. On the anniversary of your death, he disappears from everyone for a full day. Only Kalim knows where he goes—and he never asks questions. Jamil's grief is silent, disciplined, and buried deep. But it never leaves him.
Kalim doesn't understand it at first. He smiles, thinking you'll come through the door like always, calling his name. The reality doesn't hit until days later—when your laugh no longer echoes, when your perfume fades from his robes. Then he breaks. Not in fury, in grief so raw it silences even him. He curls up in bed, weeping into your favorite pillow, begging for it to be a dream
Kalim visits every week, rain or shine. He brings lavish flower arrangements, little handmade crafts, and occasionally food—things he learned to cook because you liked them. He talks a lot while sitting by your grave. Sometimes he cries. Other times, he smiles while telling stories, like he’s making sure your spirit is still included in his life.
Kalim throws himself into making others smile. If he can’t be happy, at least someone else can be. But deep down, there’s a hollowness. He wears a ring you once gave him—tells people it’s “for luck,” but it’s really a promise he’s trying to keep: To never forget you. Jamil ends up watching over him more carefully than ever. Kalim still laughs, still shines, but there’s a sadness behind it that never quite goes away
Jade’s grief is clinical, almost surgical in how neatly he tucks it away from others. No one sees him cry. No one sees him falter. He mourns in silence, in isolation. He’ll continue his duties, serve in the Lounge, smile with those sharp teeth—but inside, he’s completely quietly broken. His calm becomes eerie because there’s no balance anymore. Not without you.
Jade visits your grave with ritualistic precision. Once a month, on the same day, at the same time. He brings rare mushrooms, a flower you loved... He speaks rarely, if at all. He stays until nightfall, then vanishes like he was never there.
Jade becomes more elusive. Even Floyd can’t always read him. Jade starts going into deeper and more dangerous places, almost like he’s looking for something he lost. He keeps your memory alive through action—keeping what you loved alive in the world. But he never talks about you unless someone dares to ask… and if they do, he just smiles. A sad, secret smile. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Been working on this for awhile as a gift for @hey-hey-j cause Dream au is taking over my brain! I think this will be 4 or 5 parts as I work to finish it. I have added a few of my own headcannons so I apologize in advance! I cant help myself :I anyhoo! Dream au part one! Go check out Hey's amazing art as well as other people contributions that have made this so much fun to experience in the dream au tag!
....
Floyd is singing.
It's another gig, in another random establishment, in another town, with another random group of trolls. The shock of finding another Genre had worn off some years ago, and while it was still amazing to learn about the history of their worlds and vastly different lifestyles, he found himself wandering aimlessly, looking for that next place that’d allow him to play.
He didn’t like to think of it as a ‘means to an end’, but sometimes it felt like it. Like there was no real purpose anymore, like he was forcing himself to continue as guilt pulled him further and further down.
His eyes glance over the crowd, some swaying to his tune, others ignoring it as background noise. Green meets pink for just a moment as his eyes move, before flickering back once more. He blinks a few times, as that familiar shock from years ago visits him again, as he takes in this new type of Troll watching him so intently.
A flush darkens their green cheeks as they look away with an embarrassed hand rubbing at their neck. And for the first time in a while, Floyd feels something.
.
Hickory has never heard such a beautiful laugh, nor has he laughed so hard in quite some time. He finds himself telling this mysterious troll things he’s never shared outside family. He feels at ease, he feels seen, he feels warm and… happy.
So maybe that's why, as his stay here comes to an end, he finds himself extending an offer to his fellow traveler.
A chance to see a few new sights, to hear new music, and to continue getting to know one another.
He’s pleasantly surprised at the ‘yes’ the other breathes, seemingly surprised himself. The smile that comes after is one Hickory promises himself he’ll make happen as often as possible.
.
A soft kiss pressed to his forehead brings a surprising amount of comfort, easing that ache just a bit. Hickory wraps a soft blanket around his shoulders and urges him towards the sitting area out front. He sits in the fresh morning air tiredly, eyes closed and head tilted back as that familiar contentedness wraps around him.
He never thought he’d feel so at home with someone again. But Hickory, no matter where they traveled, had a way about him that left him feeling warm and loved. And as he comes around him, a soft graze of his hand over his shoulders, offering him a steaming mug, despite his weariness he offers a smile.
“Headache any better?” Asked softly, as he takes the seat across from him.
“A little, yeah.”
The look he receives is concerned, and Floyd knows he must look a mess to garner such a thing,
“If you want me to stay-” A calloused palm resting atop his own hand.
“No no, you go.” He raises his own hand to intertwine their fingers, “I’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t Hickory’s first job, nor would it be his last, Floyd wouldn't let a little headache stop the yodeler. He liked his work, he was good at it, and Dockory was there to watch his back.
Floyd knew he’d be back.
.
The place is a mess.
The destruction left in the wake of giants too much to comprehend beyond his panic.
No one has seen him.
But there is no… no sign of him either.
Which means Floyd was taken.
And Hickory would find him. He would find him. Because he was alive. He had to be.
Please…
.
Barb stares at the two yodelers warily.
Things had been… tense… since everything. She’d been apologizing a lot- awkwardly, stiltedly- and helping with repairs and the likes where she could. The Funk Royals had been keeping an especially close eye on her, but it felt more like what she remembered of her parents during childhood than anything else- not to say it didn't make her paranoid and want to curl in on herself simultaneously.
But during everything, she had been going out of her way to do things, to try and make amends. So for the two bounty hunters to come to her? Well it was a little odd.
She had held their music over their heads, dangled it on a string, on top of threatening them. These two were the first to approach her at all, and she wondered what was so important that they would come to her over a month after everything.
The shorter one speaks up first,
“Uh, thank you for seeing us, Your Majesty.” It's just as stilted as her own conversations had been, his accent heavy, and despite their short encounters, Barb knows this is very unlike him.
Or maybe not being under threat just made people act differently?
“Yeah, it's… chill. What's up?” Someday maybe she could talk as easily as the Pop Queen, or as elegantly as the Funk Leaders, or as smooth as the Techno DJ, or even as prettilly as the Classical Conductor.
But she doubted it.
The taller side eyes the shorter, hesitant,
“We… need some help.”
Reluctant.
Well. Barb knew how that felt.
She could do this. It'd be a step in the right direction right?
.
They aren't expecting mail.
And the critter delivering it is unfamiliar and gone as quick as he came.
The letter is written in swirly handwriting, pretty and slightly crooked. A contrast to the actual words, a threat, a warning, a plea.
A fake.
Despite the years, Bruce knew this wasn’t his brother's handwriting.
“You have to go.”
His wife, beautiful and magnificent, stands at the counter behind him, looking down with a concerned tilt to her brow. They’d talked about this a million times, but this… this was the first actual sign.
“It sounds like a trap.” He points out, a weak argument really, he knows he won't be able to stand by.
“Then you’ll be careful.” She turns, signaling to their friend, grabbing the small pack he’s had since the forest, and filling it with supplies.
“I can’t just leave you and the kids, the restaurant.”
“I’m pretty sure Cove has pink-eye, and the restaurant will be fine. You need to go Bruce.”
The pack is placed in front of him, their friend already standing at the bar hat on his head, Bruce takes a deep breath,
“I’ll be back.” He promises, his gut stirring with too many emotions.
“I know you will.” They share a kiss filled with reassurances and love and everything Bruce needs to go through with this.
✡ | Angst | Cheating | Toxic Relationship | Cvlutos is also a liar <3 |
✡ | Synopsis: Floyd has needs. You know this, so why are you so upset. It was a mistake that you found out.
Mistakes happenー
Like spilling your drink on the table, scrambling to clean it up before it gets worse. Deleting a project instead of sending it. Like oversleeping or over-watering your plant till it drowns. Like sending the wrong text to the wrong person and having a fun laugh over it. Like tripping over your own feet and feeling embarrassed. Or blurting out the wrong math answer when you weren't paying attention. Mistakes are how a person growsー
Mistakes happenー
Like kissing your best friend while in a committed relationship, whilst swearing up and down that he’s only a friend and it was only for fun. Like missing your three-year anniversary, showing up late in the night, and giving a half-assed apology, while you spent your day showering a random woman with gifts, swearing it meant nothing and as only for fun. Like coming home covered—drowning in another woman’s touch… in her overly-priced perfume, it was for the excitement. Staying out too late and ignoring calls, only to block your number in annoyance. Like sleeping with her—fucking her in our own bed. Chasing the excitement, the fun that has long since died in your relationship.
“It’s alrightー” Mistakes are how people growー
Mistakes happenー
Like trying to stop you from leaving. Growing mad at you for being upset, for not understanding. Grabbing your arms as he tries to explain, frustrated when you can't look at him. Angry that you feel sick when you're near him. This is why you were supposed to mind your business. This is why you weren't ever supposed to know. You weren't supposed to find out ‘cause you were happy, happy in your long-term relationship, happy with the novelty in finding your soulmate, your one and only. And he was happy having you cater to every whim and need, but still able to get the excitement he so desperately craved. You had him and he has anything and everything whenever. So why are you upset? You wanted him, feigning after him desperately, readily and eagerly to toss friendships and family aside when he asked, ready to give him everything.
It was a mistake you found out.
He doesn't regret cheating, no, but he regrets you finding out. Cause he knew that this—this tantrum you would throw when you found out. That you overreact and try and leave him. Like you love him, right, you love him so much that it would hurt you to leave. So why don't you understand that he has needs? He needs excitement, he needs adventure, you just don't do it for him. But he loves you. So why does it matter he hurt you, why does it matter that he sees her, that he sleeps with him, if you don't know.
He watches you through the mirror, phone face down yet occasionally buzzing, he fights off the urge to immediately answer. You stare at yourself. Looking over the very features he said he loved. Boring but features that make him happy, isn't that all that matters? You get to call him yours. You twist the new engagement ring around your finger, and the new clothing upon your body. You thought that you'd be happier, jumping for joy the moment he got down on one knee.
He watches you inhale deeply, locking eyes through the mirror. His face relaxed, knowing, prepared for the outcome. Excepting this result, unable to hide his very satisfied smile.
“We can make this work...” After all, Mistakes are how people grow…
ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
A/N: Wow Lotus is posting? I know, it's been a while. Reblogs are appreciated, don’t forget to like and follow. I hope you all enjoy!
- Lotus Lily
Part 1
Taglist (If you'd like to be added, message me please):
@loonashadow
(Image not mine)
You roamed to you next class. It has been a few months since you had realized how stupid you had been. The relationship was unhealthy and manipulative. Now, you felt free. Now you were with someone else. While your boyfriend was a little strict with the rules, he was such a sweetheart.
Every day he would give you a single flower. Your favorite flower. Every day he'd make your heart flutter. It was different from the way you had felt around Floyd. With your new boyfriend, you felt safe. You felt... like an equal. You new man was the sweetest guy you had ever met, you often wondered why you didn't see it earlier. The two of you would go on weekly dates, often being tea parties and walks around the rose garden. Yet, every time it felt like the first.
Floyd was one unhappy eel. He watched his Little Shimpy fall in love... with a man that was not him. Where did he go wrong? He didn't know. No. That was a lie and he knew it. He had used you. Just for a few extra madols. Did he feel stupid? Yes. Did he regret it? Also yes. If only Azul could whip out a time travel spell. No longer could Floyd squeeze you. No longer could he touch you. No longer could he watch as a sweet smile appeared on your face, the reason being him. Now, you were with Goldfish.
Why was it so typical.
You always have fallen in love easily, but why him? Why Goldfish? The cold, stuck-up, rule making Goldfish?
How typical of you to fall in love with a man undeserving of your attention.
Azul and Jade had tried to get you to talk to Floyd, only to fail. You wanted nothing to do with the three of them. Often roped into a disadvantageous situation. No longer would you be manipulated. No longer would you be predictable. No longer will you hold on to the love you held for Floyd. That was in the past. Your past self. Your typical self.
No longer were you that typical person. You have grown.
Os voy a explicar mi AU de Trolls Band Togheter (más de Floyd que otra cosa XD)
Te lo digo ya, me encantan los angst, y Floyd es uno de mis personajes favoritos así que...
Bien, todo transcurre igual que en la película, unos días después nuestros adorables Trolls descubren que Floyd está sufriendo efectos secundarios.
1. Pesadillas.
2. Trauma.
3. Se cansa muy rápido y a veces le cuesta respirar y caminar (por eso siempre lleva a mano un
4. Su pelo ya no le es útil para ninguna autodefensa, en el caso del camuflaje el blanco en su pelo no cambia de color y, en el caso de estirar su pelo para poder desplazarse o luchar le es imposible hacerlo, ya que su pelo ya no está hacia arriba sino que lo lleva suelto boca abajo, no puede controlar su pelo a su antojo.
5. Su voz al cantar a veces falla y le salen gallos.
Y creo que no me dejo nada, ah, por cierto... Tiene un pasado oscuro que es la razón por la cuál no cumplió la promesa que le hizo a Branch...
Floyd ahora vive en Villa Troll al igual que todos sus hermanos (excepto Bruce).
Azul had started taking his anxiety medication more frequently. Much more frequently. The lorazepam bottle was half empty at the beginning of the week. It was Thursday now. Another eighth of the bottle was downed.
Azul's vision began to blur as he slumped closer and closer to his desk. His quill pen began to slip out from his fingers. As he hazily reached for the feather again, his head hit the desk and he drifted unto unconciousness.
He was eight again. Eight and foolishly unaware of the world around him. Swimming outside, he had quickly found a group of merfolk.
"Uhm... ex-excuse me...?" he timidly asked.
He should have realized that he shouldn't have done that.
"Ew!"
"Who is that?"
"_____, I think you mean what is that?!"
"H-huh?!" child Azul was shocked. Had they never met an octopus merfolk before? "I'm a merfolk! J-just like you!"
"No you aren't!!!"
"Get away from me!"
Thirteen and sitting in his octopot. He had never forgotten the words of those kids. Never. Not even if they were silly, childish, or wrong. Those words would be ingrained in his mind until he died.
Knock knock
The lid of his octopot was lifted, bringing light into the cauldron and burning Azul's eyes.
"Eehh~? What's in here, Jade?" a teal face leaned over the opening, and stared down at Azul.
"Hm? I don't know, Floyd." an identical voice sounded. "What is in there?"
A finger came down and poked Azul on the tentacle, making him bolt upright. "H-hey! I don't know if you know this or not but you can't.."
Azul trailed off when he saw two identical eel merfolk looking at him intently. "Ah, uh... you- you can't just do... that."
"Hm," the first shrugged, before swimming back over to the pot. "Whatcha got in here?"
He picked up golden papers and sifted through each of them, semi-reading what was on each page.
"Don't touch those!" Azul swam over and snatched his contracts out of the eel's hands.
"They are quite fascinating..." the one called Jade said.
"You too!" Azul yelled, frustrated. "Don't touch my contracts!"
"Azul?" Jade knocked on the door of the head office of the Mostro Lounge, a cup of warm tea with him.
No response.
"Azul?" the merfolk again asked through the door.
Opening the door, he found his boss slouched over wet ink. Sighing, he placed the teacup down on the coffee table and poked Azul on the shoulder.
"Oh my, it seems the ever-guarded Azul Ashengrotto has fallen asleep." Jade smiled eerily. "Wake up now, Azul. You wouldn't want my brother to see you like this. Who knows what he would do."
Normally, Azul would wake up at even the mention of Floyd. But this time he didn't. Jade noticed the shallowness of his breath before looking over at the supposed contract.
Will of Azul Ashengrotto.
Jade paled significantly. The almost-empty bottle of pills somehow just made themselves noticeable to the teal-haired boy. Hastily, he picked them up, reading the contents. He never knew that Azul took anxiety medication.
The teenager checked Azul's pulse. It was almost unreadable. Picking Azul up bridal-style, he almost ran to the nurses office.
The magic mirror was too slow. The students in his way were too slow. Azul's heartbeat was too slow. Everything was too slow for Jade.
Azul flatlined as he was put onto the bed. Jade didn't need the heart monitor to know. He knew. He just... knew.
Tears that he didn't know he had poured out of his eyes. Jade shook so much that he had to sit on an infirmary chair right next to Azul. Tentatively, he took Azul's hand. It was so cold. So much colder than usual, anyway. How was he supposed to tell Floyd? How was he supposed to tell Octavinelle? How was he supposed to tell them he failed at keeping their housewarden alive?
Floyd didn't take the news well. Jade never expected him to. His twin took it hard. So hard. He wrecked the entire office. He threw glasses, plates, silverware, anything he could find really. Hell, Floyd even attacked his brother. Jade excuses him for that. It was wrong to not get there sooner. If he had just made the tea a little sooner... if he had just knocked a little earlier... if he had noticed before, this wouldn't have happened.
Floyd held up a gold paper with one hand, "What is this?"
"..." Jade stood silent.
"What is this, hah?" Floyd demanded of his brother, shoving it in his face.
"Ashengrotto's... will." Jade took hold of the paper. He had just noticed the wobbly signature at the bottom corner.
"Get on with it," Floyd's voice broke, coming out roughly.
"Okay, Floyd."
Jade sucked in a breath before starting to read.
Will of Azul Ashengrotto
I, Azul Ashengrotto, a resident of Coral Sea, declare that this is my will.
I revoke all wills and codicils that I have previously made.
I am currently not married, nor in any romantic relationship.
I leave my position as owner of Mostro Lounge to Jade Leech, as well as all contracts I have made.
I leave half of my thaumarks to Floyd Leech, as well as my seashell staff.
I leave the other half of my thaumarks to my mother, ______ Ashengrotto, as well as my octopot and glasses.
I direct my executor to take all actions legally permissible to have the probate of my will done as simply and as free of court supervision as possible under the laws of the state having jurisdiction over this will, including filing a petition in the appropriate court for the independent administration of my estate.
If any beneficiary under this will contests this will or any of its provisions, any share or interest in my estate given to the contesting beneficiary under this will is revoked and shall be disposed of as if that contesting beneficiary had not survived me.
I, Azul Ashengrotto, the testator, sign my name to this instrument, this Saturday of February 20th. I declare that I sign and execute this instrument as my last will, that I sign it willingly, and that I execute it as my free and voluntary act. I declare that I am of the age of majority or otherwise legally empowered to make a will, and under no constraint or undue influence.
Yesterday, @spirtworld wanted for me to unleash some raw Floyd angst into the wild and see how everything will go down... So here we go :3
This is one of my favorite headcannon-theories that will play as a base in here, even if I believe it was debunked to not be real... But... Lemme have it... Because yes... It was inspired by some pretty fanart on pinterest, but I lost the links ;-;
I wrote this on discord... Explaining it in depth and how dark it could get...
But we aren't getting into the dark part for now :3
We will have a tiny weny oneshot of how everything played out after I explain everything.
Also... This might be hints about my pttw comic... So if you wanna figure it out... Go ahead and read it...
But if you don't want some slight spoiler hints... I recommend you shouldn't read it...
That was a warning!
Under the cut I'll explain it. (copy pasted from my notes and edited accordingly)
Anyway!
I headcannon heavily that Floyd is actually really aware of his public image. Like he is aware people fear him, he is aware other students would rather dig their own graves than hang out with him... He has that scary aura around him.
And that is a thing Floyd hates, because this is exactly a trait of the Diasomnia students... He tries his best to be playful and snuggle himself into social circles, but he does not really succeed so easy, which makes his moods to alter more, yet Floyd sees how Jade and Azul manage so well to blend in, making him a bit envious.
Because they were since start in Octavinelle (here's where the theory comes :3)
My theory is this: Floyd was sorted at first in Diasomnia (I say it because he really fits the vibe of scary, but actually a quirky guy)
But imagine how the world would crash onto him once he hears that. That Azul, his dear friend that even changed and grew before Floyd's own eyes and Jade, his own twin, his half, his family, the 2 most precious of persons Floyd ever had in his life... To be separated from him in a different dorm. That's how he made that commotion at the sorting ceremony, getting on Riddle's nerves and having his first taste of the 'off with your head'.
He started to feel conscious of his appearance, of his public image since that day. He didn't want to talk with silver(his roimmate) at all. He didn't want to get out of bed, he didn't want to eat, he didn't even want to touch his magic pen. He would even resort to running away and breaking into Octavinelle just to be with Jade and Azul.
Just to try and feel like he belongs somewhere, where he is actually loved for who he is.
Azul wasn't ignoring any of this. He was really concerned. And while Jade was aiding to his brother's pitiful state, Azul was trying his best, skimming through everything and putting all of his efforts into finding something that would priquire Malleus's interest enough, so he could trade it for his approval of moving Floyd into Octavinelle.
Azul tricked his way and made his reputation of being 'shady' just to become Dormhead and have the authority necessary to get Crowley and convince Malleus to let Floyd transfer to Octavinelle.
All, of course in the best of discrecy.
Of course this incident was hidden and most of the students remember only that Floyd caused a stirr at the ceremony just because he angered Riddle. No one actually paid mind to which dorm Floyd was sorted.
But Floyd couldn't shake that feeling that he doesn't belomg in there... He hates that he feels like he doesn't fit.
He hates himself for not making enough efforts to fit.
And sometimes, when emotions drive him off, his magic pen will turn a bright green instead of the usual white gem, typical Octavinelle, which would scare him, thinking that he'll have to go back in Diasomnia.
Jade forgot about the incident and decided that it was better if it wasn't brought anymore. Azul was keeping the contract(which wasn't out of his um) with Malleus and Crowley about the transfer, buried deep in the safe of his office.
Now imagine chapter 3... But Leona and Ruggie get their hands into that transfer contract too. And by destroying it, they force Floyd to go back to Diasomnia unknowingly.
Now let's see the little oneshot:
~~~~~~
Blot
Chaos
A mess everywhere you would look. That's how one would describe the scene left behind Azul's overBlot. One would expect that the Dormhead of Octavinelle wouldn't spiral in such a ravenous crying fit for just a contracts. And even after he was brought back to normal, Azul scrambled, under everyone's judging glares, to the pile of golden sand, grabbing it and digging through it.
He was desperate. There must be in there! There must be at least a little intact piece he could use magic to restore it. No? It has to be!
"Azul! Azul! Snap out of it! Look at me..." Jade was the first one who grabbed his friend by the shoulders, shaking him to gain his attention. Floyd was right next to Azul, getting a more firmer grip onto him than his twin, to have Azul in a somewhat reassurance, which didn't work.
"I-it's gone... It's destroyed... We lost it... We can't retrieve it... It's gone!" Azul started to mumble as his inky tears were rolling over his cheeks, the boy leaning onto Floyd as he was crying silently, mumbling in between heavy breaths about 'the lost object'.
Jade looked at the pile of sand, then at Floyd. At the poor clueless Floyd. Eyes landed onto his twin's breast pocket before teeth grittered with anger.
Getting up in a flash, Jade grabbed Leona by the neck. "Do you even realise what you've done?! ANSWER ME!" the boy screamed, which was a shock for everyone. Jade usually was the more collected one, yet right now, the eel was seconds away from just leaving Leona headless for real.
"Jade! Stop it! What has even gotten into ya?!" Floyd had to leave Azul's side to stop his brother as the others joined in separating the 2. Jade was struggling under the other's grip, trying to get his hand onto Leona, with a deep rage bubbling under his skin.
"oh... Did I come at the wrong time?" a voice piped in.
Azul froze in place as well as Jade, both of them eyeing Lilia with sheer fear. This was really happening. "What's the silence for? I thought you would be more happy to see me..." Lilia mumbled. "What's with you in here? The lounge's closed..." Floyd mused, still clueless.
"Oh... Dear... You don't know? I came to pick you up..."
Words that sunk into Floyd's mind like an arrow. His stomach was burying itself and his heart was squeezed in fear at those words coming from Lilia's mouth. "This is a joke... No? Jade? Azul? It's a joke... Right? It's a bad joke, guys..." Floyd said with a strained smile.
Yet Azul only looked down as well s Jade. "I am... So sorry, Floyd... I did everything I could..." Azul mumbled through tears. Jade only was silent as he made a small motion to his breast pocket, where his magic pen was. Floyd followed with his hand the said gazes that were targeted to his own pocket, fearfully touching his pen and getting it out. Tears were building in his eyes as Floyd lowered his own gaze onto the said pen.
The gem was green... A bright green Floyd oh so feared.
"No... Nonono... This can't be... You promised me... You told me we will be forever together... Right?" The boy said as tears stained his cheeks, falling on the ground. The silence though, was enough to shatter Floyd's heart.
"Floyd... I-" "No... You promised me, Jade! WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME?!" Floyd screamed as he pushed away his twin's attempt at a hug, then throwing his own pen on the ground. "I'm sick of this pity! Just leave me alone! All of you!" The boy declared as he turned onto his heel and ran away from Octavinelle.
"Vangrouge... Please... There must be a way to keep him..." Azul begged, on his knees, to the said Fae. "I am afraid the terms of the contract were all broken... I cannot do anything about it..." Lilia mused with a sigh. Jade only hugged Azul, caressing gently the head of the other to attempt at calming down the crying male. "Everyone... I advise you to get out immediately... Octavinelle will no longer welcome guests from other dorms for the rest of the day." The vice mused as he shooed away everyone. Lilia though, stood at the same spot.
Exhaling, the Fae crossed his arms. "It's pitiful from you... Such a sight..." "You have no words in this..." Jade snarled back. "You will have to embrace it... For his own good..." Lilia mused. Azul only wiped his tears with a trembling arm as he looked at Jade.
"He will have to accept it... Weather Floyd likes it or not..."
