On Leona's I Was About To Be Real Annoyed With Him For Being So Rude But Then He Apologizes And I Just. You Know What - Blog Posts

“let’s break up.” with the housewardens ╮

♯— leona, malleus, idia, vil, azul. likes and rbs are appreciated!!

summary: a heated argument leads to the housewardens genuinely hurting you ￫ a break up : requested by @diavolosbaby

cw: gn!reader, angst?? hurt???? unedited

✉︎ leona kingscholar // won’t relinquish his pride

• “let’s just break up,” you say, standing at the edge of his bed. “if you’re not going to even try and apologise, let’s just end this now.”

• in times long gone by you’d be laughing together fervently, bodies tangled between those same sheets, faces so close that your noses would bump and your breaths were shared. now, his bed is neatly made. had ruggie been in this morning, or had he done it himself?

• leona peeks a single eye open in a languid manner, staring you down as though he were sussing something out about you before closing them again, barely stirring, brooding. “fine.” he croaks, voice raspy from lack of use, forcing impassivity as his tail thrashes against his headboard displaying quite the opposite. “end whatever the hell we are, then.”

• your eyes begin to pool as your hands ball into fists, clenching the hem of your sleeves. he couldn’t even say a simple ‘i’m sorry.’ “you’re pathetic, leona.” the ugly feelings are seeping out as tears and cutting words: “you’re a coward.”

• leona is used to chagrin, he’s used to fear and he’s used to hatred from others—but when it’s you, when it’s your voice that speaks to him so cold and contemptuously—something shifts in his core. it’s when you’re already out of earshot he sits himself up with some sort of newfound epiphany, the words you had been waiting for all this time finally running off at the mouth.

• “i’m sorry,” he calls after you, “i’m sorry—” but he knows he’s too late.

✉︎ malleus draconia // can’t forgive himself

• there’s a point in every unsalvageable relationship where one knows it’s over. you had been clinging to a semblance, an empty shell of a relationship for much too long; the absence of communication forcing your relationship into a strained stalemate.

• he knows what you’re going to say before you open your mouth, eyes forlorn, cast downwards, devoid their usual shine. “you are breaking up with me, aren’t you.” (it’s less of a question and more of a determiner.) what once was a blue sky thunders with ferocity at your answer, or the lack thereof.

• “i never intended to hurt you. i would move heaven and earth for you. i wouldn’t ever dare—” but he did. he was the architect of his own destruction. the argument had been stupid in the first place—he should’ve kept his childish emotions at bay but instead he raised his voice at you. “i love you.” he tells you not because he’s trying to make you stay, but simply because it’s true, meekly reaching for your hand, slender fingers intertwining with yours loosely before moving to his sides again. his yearning for you is timeless: absolute, unwavering and unconditional. even so, you won’t meet his gaze anymore, and he wracks with devastation.

• “but i understand.” the horizon is suddenly overcast with a murky grey. you know that shade as regret. (malleus loves you, and he will continue to love you, that was beyond doubt—but he can no longer love himself.)

✉︎ idia shroud // refuses to face reality

• “i think we should…” you falter, struggling to find the right words, letting them drown into the whirs of idia’s pc fan. “i don’t want to do this anymore. us.”

• idia’s shoulders sag as he nibbles his bottom lip. “what?” he’s writhing in his seat, vision blurring as he grips onto his controller, pressing down the buttons till they’re jammed. he can’t focus on anything else but the fact that you don’t want to be with him anymore, that he’s crossed the line, that he’s hurt you beyond repair. this relationship isn’t something that can be replayed, it never was—so maybe he shouldn’t have treated it as such.

• his voice becomes a few octaves higher, panicked. “b-but we were doing--… we were doing fine..! the arguments-- the things i said, i-i didn’t mean them, any of it, you know that!” his speed picks up as he continues, as though he’s trying to fit everything he can muster into a short time frame.

• “idia, we have to stop pretending.” you hold him firmly in place, to stop him from hyperventilating on the spot, speaking over his hurried, ceaseless pleas for forgiveness. “you have to stop pretending. the things you said hurt me. you can’t just take them back.”

• he falls silent until you’re at the doorway. when he speaks again his voice is merely a whisper, so small and unsteady you can barely comprehend it. when you do, you become choked.

• idia clings on because he doesn’t know how to let go. “please, don’t leave me.”

✉︎ vil schoenheit // acts until the curtain falls

• if vil notices the dried tear stains that left blotches on your cheeks, he doesn’t mention it. or maybe he didn’t care enough anymore. you pull him away from his peers in the film studies club and for the first time in what may have been weeks, vil’s attention is solely on you. he smiles at you and you know it’s not genuine; attempting to do the same, you feign the experience of the actor before you. “vil, we should stop seeing each other.”

• “are you doing this right here? do i have a say in this matter at all?” he’s smiling with his teeth now, tight-lipped, though keeping it in place is so, so painful. “you’re just going to make this decision for both of us?” when you nod your head, vil no longer bothers to keep up appearances. his smile drops. he’s co-starred in enough coming-of-age romances to know where this leads. he knows what will become of your relationship. “whatever i said to you before-” he’s reaching out to caress you but you catch his hand, stony faced.

• “save it vil. you went too far. we’re finished.” there’s no trace of warmth in your tone. he takes you in properly, noticing your red-rimmed eyes and disheveled state. he knows that that he’s the one to blame for it—the taste of guilt is sour on his tongue. you look defeated, and vil feels his own eyes sting as he takes a step back. he can’t make a rebuttal because he knows you’re right. all he can do is watch you leave. he can’t get a hold of himself, a little faint—he was a mockery of an actor, and made a mockery of a being a good boyfriend.

• he shouts your name, a fruitless final attempt to make things right. you don’t turn once.

✉︎ azul ashengrotto // loses his voice

• “it’s over.” you say, plain as it is, but to the point. you no longer have the energy to sugarcoat things. azul freezes at his desk, pen falling out of his hands and dropping to the floor with a small ‘thud.’ he had seen it coming, just not so soon. he needed more time to prepare, to try and stop the inevitable… but this had been premeditated. your relationship had overrun it’s due course.

• he’s pushing away the negative, self-depreciative thoughts that flood his mind (he doesn’t have the time to think selfishly right now. not when he might lose you), immediately rising from his seat to stand in front of you. he hopes you can’t see the frantic shaking of his hands. “please don’t say that.” it takes everything in him to not let himself break, voice wobbling as he cups your face, looking directly at you. “we can talk, we can find a solution—”

• “we’ve been talking. all we do is disagree. this isn’t a problem you can solve by using a contract or some crappy bargain. i’m not one of your customers.” taken aback by your sudden outburst, his eyes widen, brimming with tears abruptly. “i’m done with you, and this.” you gesture to his office, years worth of his hard work, peeling him off you. he’s scrambling his thoughts together to form a sentence, mouth hung open, but nothing comes. has he lost the ability to speak altogether? he wants to tell you to stay, but his jaw screws shut again. why can’t he speak? is this a curse? why won’t his voice come out when he so badly needs it to?

• he feels himself shatter.