Chapter Text
It literally feels like you're watching over a bunch of kids who are actively trying to get themselves killed.
Because Sevens explain why did Ace bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday party?! Is this a prank? It better be!
You let out a forced laugh and 'playfully' punch Ace in the shoulder. "Oh wow, what a funny joke, Ace! I hope you're not serious about this" Ace winced and turned to you "what are you talking about? The others and I worked very hard to make this tart." Your soul briefly leaves your body while he turned back to the silent Housewarden before you could stop him. "So what do you think-" "A CHESTNUT TART?!" Riddle abruptly stands up, glaring at the tart as if it's existence has offended him, which it has.
Ace's smile disappear "what?"
"Queen of Hearts rule number 562: No one is to bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party!" He slam his hand on the table "this is a grave infraction of the rules!" He glares at Ace "what have you done?! Our perfectly unbirthday party has been ruined!" Deuce looks as surprised as everyone. "R-rule 562?! Just how many of these things are there?!"
"There are 810 rules in total, and I know them all by heart." Riddle stated.
"810?!" Grim exclaimed in shock.
You immediately stand up to not let things get worse "Ace, I am really hoping that you're playing a cruel prank right now! Please tell me you made a strawberry tart!" Ace looks at you and realizes... "Oh..." Your eyes widen "'Oh?' Is that the only thing you can say?! Were you not listening to me when I reminded you to make a strawberry tart but not only one but TWO times?!"
Cater looks at Trey with worry "oh man, this is some serious yikes... Did you know that one, Trey?" Trey only shakes his head "I've only managed to memorize up to 350. I didn't even think to check. I had no idea there were rules dictating the proper type of tart..." Now they recalled their time in the cafeteria where you left with Riddle, reminding Ace to make a strawberry tart.
"And remember to make a strawberry tart!"
Those are the last words you uttered before you were gone.
"Wait. A chestnut tart?" Ace raise an eyebrow at Trey then a wary expression appear on his face "but (Name) told me to make a strawberry tart, it is part of the rules..." Trey gives him an assuring smile and shake his head "It's not necessary!" Deuce perk up "really? Are you sure about that?" He couldn't help but feel amused at their concern and reassure them "don't worry, there is no such rule that it has to be a strawberry tart to make as an apology for the Housewarden."
Grim let out a groan "does it really matter what tart it is? Come on! Let's just start making this tart so we can get this over with!" Yuuken nodded in agreement. "The quicker we finish, the sooner Ace will be able to go back to his dorm."
"Heartslabyul Dorm reveres The Queen of Hearts and her spirit of strictness." Riddle sharply stated "as a Housewarden, I cannot look over this transgression. Dispose of this chestnut tart immediately!" Ace's eyes widen then he glares at him "what?! Woah, wait a minute! This is absurd!" Grim nods "yeah! If you're going to throw it away then let me eat it!"
Riddle tilt his head "it is your fault for being so careless! Why haven't you listened to (Name) when he reminded you to make a strawberry tart?! Do you take the Queen of Hearts Rules for a joke?!"
"Housewarden!" Trey step up and put his hand on Riddle's shoulder "I am terribly sorry! I was the one who suggested to make a chestnut tart!" Cater also intervenes with a nervous smile "it never occured to us that there would be a rule against them!" And yet that doesn't make anything better "the creation of the tart is not the issue. The issue is that he brought it! Here, on this day, to our unbirthday party!"
"But is that rule really necessary?" Everyone quiet down the moment Yuuken asked that question. You see him about to say something and quickly shake your head to signal him to shut up but he ignores you and continues to talk "the chestnut tart doesn't seem to be bothering anyone else here." Ace jumps in. "Yeah! All of your rules are completely bizarre! This whole thing is stupid!"
"Yeah, these kids are gonna die." You turn to Riddle and hold his hand "Riddle, darling, I know that you're upset and I understand that. But please remember that these guys are first years and they're new." He doesn't say anything as if his voice had been stolen away, he's just looking dead silent at the first years debating whether he should make their heads role or give them a much more worse punishment. "Riddle..." You frown and squeeze his hand to make him snap out of his thought. "Most new students get confused when they learn about the rules. I mean I was like that when I was a freshman but I've learned and I'm used to it now-"
"Oh quit your blabbering!" Ace roll his eyes and looks at the other students. "This is just stupid. You guys all agree with me, right? You're just too scared of those collars to say anything." One of the students sweat drop and mutter "w-well... we, uhm..." But before he could finish, Cater pulls Ace away from the table "Ace, enough! Don't dig this hole any deeper! And just like (Name) said, Riddle. Please try to remember that these are new students who've only been here for a few days."
Ace shrug him off. "Nah bro, I've got a shovel and I'm digging! Throwing away a tart about some insane rule is about as foolish as it gets!" Deuce let out a soft sigh and speak up "I agree with Ace. Of course I understand that rules needs to be followed, but... this is getting out of hand."
"Are you attempting to debate me?" Riddle's face seems to be turning red. You swallow nervously "Riddle, I don't believe they mean it like that-" "Hush now, dear." His eyes softened a little at your direction before they sharpened when they shifted to Ace and Deuce. "In the year since I became The Housewarden, not a single student from this dorm had been held back a year or expelled. We are the only house that can boast such a feat! Furthermore, of everyone in this dorm, I have the best academic standing. Hence, I am the most correct! If you would simply obey me without question, we wouldn't need to contend so."
Deuce takes a step forward "look, we-" "I do not take your heads because I enjoy it, I do it because rules must never be broken." Riddle continues. "If you will not obey me then it will be off with your heads!" Cater quickly intervenes "okay, guys. Now let's just say: Yes Housewarden Riddle!"
Deuce was hesitant for a second but then his expression becomes firm "...I can't." Riddle narrow his eyes. "What was that?" Yuuken sighs and replies "neither can I." Your eyes widen "Yuu! You can't be serious-" "Sorry not sorry, (Name), but I won't bow down to a selfish tyrant like him even if he begged me!" Ace stated.
"What... did you say?"
Grim yells out. "He said you're a selfish, bad tempered, food wasting, old tyrant!" This sentence made Deuce freak out. "Hey! We didn't say that!"
"You idiots! Do you want to get collared for a whole year?!" You shouted. "How in the Sevens did things get to this?! We were just doing fine earlier before this happened!"
"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
The familiar sight of the blue and red colored collars appear on Ace, Deuce, Grim, and even Yuuken's neck. You turn to look at Riddle and he is livid.
"Trey! Cater! (Name)! Remove these people from the premises!"
. . .
You, Trey, and Cater share a look between you three before you give them a subtle nod and a look that says 'just do as he says and don't make things worse.'
"Yes, Housewarden."
After forcing these famous troublemakers out of the dorm, you hand them a box then lock the gates to keep them out. "Here's your chestnut tart. At least you've got something sweet to eat." Then Cater sends them an apologetic smile. "Sorry, guys. You know we can't defy our housewarden." Trey turns away from them as he says "I'm sorry. I'll convince him to let you back in if you apologize."
Ace only glares at them "I will never apologize to that dictator!"
You rub your temple as you walk back to where Riddle is standing, this might just be the worst day you've ever had. At this point, you'd rather be dealing with Sebek's yelling and threats than be here.
"Now!" Riddle smiles as if he hadn't almost lose his shit and jump the idiots who broke the rules "let's forget that unpleasantness and carry on with our party. We must make sure to hold the croquet tournament today after all!" He checks the time and sigh "we're 15 minutes behind schedule! Simply dreadful!" He smiles once he holds your hand excitedly "come now, (Name). Join me!"
You look at him, exhausted… and fond.
Even after everything, you still love Riddle no matter how unhinged he is.
"Of course, Riddle."
But really... It really does feel like you’ve been appointed the sole, overworked guardian of a group of children who are actively, enthusiastically trying to shorten their own life expectancy.
After some time, you, Cater, and Trey step away from the now-bustling party, finding a quieter corner of the rose garden where the noise dulls into a distant hum. The air feels heavier here like the aftermath of a storm no one wants to name.
Cater exhales first, running a hand through his hair. “Well… that was a lot,” he says with a nervous chuckle that doesn’t quite land. “Unbirthday parties aren’t usually this intense.” Trey adjusts his glasses, gaze lowered. “I should’ve checked the rules more carefully,” he murmurs. “This could’ve been avoided.” You shake your head. “It wasn’t just the tart, Trey. This was… building.”
Cater glances at you, expression softening. “Hey,” he says gently, “you’ve been quiet since we threw out those guys. How are you feeling?” You hesitate, eyes following the neatly trimmed hedges, the roses shaped into perfect hearts. Heartslabyul. Beautiful, orderly, and unforgiving. Finally, you sigh. “Honestly?” you say. “I don’t think collaring new students over rules they barely know is fair.”
Cater blinks. Trey looks up sharply, surprised but attentive.
“I mean,” you continue, voice low, careful, “these rules are intense. Eight hundred and ten of them. Even you haven’t memorized all of them, Trey. Expecting first-years, brand-new students, to know everything right away feels… excessive.”
Trey nods slowly. “I’ve thought the same,” he admits. “The Queen of Hearts Rules are meant to enforce discipline, but… they don’t really teach understanding.” Cater lets out a small sigh of relief. “Thank the Seven, I’m not the only one thinking that.” He crosses his arms. “I get why Riddle does it. Rules are how he keeps control. How he keeps things from falling apart. But sometimes it feels like we’re punishing confusion instead of correcting it.” You nod. “Exactly. Riddle isn’t wrong for wanting order. I know that better than anyone. But fear shouldn’t be the first lesson new students learn here.”
There’s a pause. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Riddle’s voice cheerfully announcing of playing croquet, as if nothing ever went wrong.
Trey speaks carefully. “Riddle believes rules protect people. To him, strictness is kindness.”
“I know,” you reply softly. “That’s why this is hard. I love him. But I can’t ignore it when something feels wrong.”
Cater offers you a small, reassuring smile. “Hey. The fact that you’re thinking about this? That matters. Heartslabyul could use someone who balances the rules with… well, a heart.”
You huff out a quiet laugh. “King of Hearts irony at its finest.” Trey smiles faintly. “Maybe, over time, you can help him see that discipline and compassion don’t have to cancel each other out.” You look back toward the party, where Riddle stands proud and composed, crown gleaming beneath the sun. “…I hope so,” you say.
Then you lower your voice instinctively, even though Riddle is nowhere near earshot. “After the unbirthday party,” you say, “I want to talk to Riddle. Properly. Ask him if he’d consider… easing up on some of the rules. Maybe even taking a few down.”
The moment the words leave your mouth, Cater freezes. “…Oh,” he says slowly. “Oh wow. You’re serious.” Trey’s eyes widen behind his glasses, and for a second he just stares at you like you’ve suggested rewriting the laws of nature. “You want to… remove the rules?” he repeats, carefully. You nod. “Not all of them. Just the ones that punish ignorance instead of actual wrongdoing. Especially for first years.”
Cater lets out a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean... respectfully? That’s… terrifying.” He glances around like the Queen of Hearts herself might materialize. “You’re talking about Riddle. Riddle Rosehearts. The guy who memorized eight hundred rules for fun.” Trey exhales, thoughtful rather than panicked. “He won’t take that lightly,” he says. “To him, every rule exists for a reason. Suggesting their removal could feel like questioning his judgment.”
“I know,” you reply. “That’s why I want to wait until after the party. When he’s calmer.” Cater winces. “You’re brave. Or in love. Or both.” Then his expression softens. “But… you might be the only one who can even try this without immediately getting collared.” Trey nods slowly. “He listens to you,” he admits. “Even when he’s upset. If anyone can frame it in a way he’ll consider, it’s you.”
There’s a pause.
“…Do you think he’d actually agree?” Cater asks quietly.
You hesitate. “Not right away. But if he understands that the rules aren’t protecting the students in moments like today, only hurting them, maybe he’ll think about it.” Trey offers a small, conflicted smile. “Then I’ll support you. Not as Vice Housewarden, just as someone who wants the dorm to be better.” Cater grins faintly. “Guess that makes me moral support. And emergency distraction, if things go south.”
You breathe out slowly, equal parts nervous and determined. “Yeah,” you say. “One conversation at a time.”
Cater chuckles. “Seven help you, (Name). You’re about to negotiate with the embodiment of the rulebook.” Trey adjusts his glasses. “But if anyone can remind the House of Hearts what ‘heart’ actually means…”
He looks at you.
“…it’s you.”
❤️
The unbirthday party eventually winds down the way it always does, tea cups emptied, roses trimmed back into perfect symmetry, students dismissed with stiff bows and lingering tension in the air. By the time the dorm grows quiet, the sun has dipped low, casting long shadows across Heartslabyul’s halls.
You stand outside Riddle’s door for a long moment.
Your hand is already raised, knuckles hovering just inches from the polished wood. You rehearse the words in your head, calm, respectful, reasonable. You tell yourself you’re not attacking him. You’re not undermining his authority. You just want him to listen.
Finally, you knock.
Almost immediately, the door opens.
“(Name)!” Riddle says brightly, eyes lighting up the moment he sees you. Any trace of earlier fury is gone, replaced with genuine relief. “I was just about to finish reviewing tomorrow’s schedule. Please, come in.” He steps aside without hesitation, clearly happy you’re here. That alone makes your chest tighten.
You enter his room, the familiar scent of tea leaves and old books wrapping around you. Everything is immaculate, as always, papers neatly stacked, desk perfectly aligned, bed made with sharp corners. It’s comforting. And somehow, tonight, exhausting.
Riddle closes the door behind you and turns to face you, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m glad you came,” he says, smiling. “Today was… troublesome. But seeing you afterward helped.”
That smile hits you harder than you expect.
You notice the faint slump in his shoulders now that the day is over. The dark shadows under his eyes. The way his composure, though still intact, feels carefully held together rather than effortless. He looks… tired. Not just physically, but mentally, like he’s been bracing himself for collapse and refusing to allow it.
And suddenly, the words you practiced feel heavy.
You had planned to bring it up gently. To talk about the collars. The rules. Ace, Deuce, Grim, Yuuken. To suggest carefully that maybe some rules were too harsh, especially for first years. But standing here, seeing how genuinely happy he is that you came… how worn down he looks after holding Heartslabyul together all day…
You hesitate.
Riddle tilts his head slightly. “Is something wrong?” He asks, concern flickering across his face. “You’re unusually quiet.”
You open your mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Your throat tightens, and suddenly you’re painfully aware of how much effort he puts into everything, how much pressure he carries as Housewarden, how deeply he believes that strictness is the only thing keeping this place from falling apart. The thought of adding more weight to that, of being the one to tell him he might be wrong, makes your chest ache.
“…No,” you say finally, forcing a small smile. “I’m just… tired. It was a long day.”
Riddle relaxes immediately. “Of course. I should have realized.” He steps closer, voice softer now. “You did a great deal today. Thank you for standing by me.”
Guilt twists in your stomach.
You nod, looking away for a moment. “You did well too,” you say quietly. “You always do.”
His smile returns, warm and genuine, and it feels undeserved.
He begins talking about the croquet tournament, about adjustments he wants to make to the schedule, about ensuring tomorrow goes smoothly, as if today’s chaos is already filed away under resolved. You listen, respond where appropriate, but your mind keeps circling back to the things you didn’t say.
The rules.
The collars.
All the first years standing in fear.
Every pause feels like an opening you don’t take.
Eventually, Riddle notices your silence again, but this time he doesn’t press. He simply walks you to the door when you decide to leave, thanking you once more for coming.
When the door closes behind you, the hallway feels colder.
You stop a few steps away and press a hand to your chest, exhaling slowly. "I’ll talk to him later," you tell yourself. "When he’s rested. When things are calmer." But deep down, you know the truth: You didn’t stay silent because you forgot. You stayed silent because you were afraid of hurting him.
And that thought weighs on you far heavier than any rulebook ever could.
You don’t go far after leaving Riddle’s room.
The halls of Heartslabyul are quiet now, lantern light casting soft reds and golds along the polished floors. You barely register any of it, too busy replaying the conversation you didn’t have. Your steps slow, shoulders heavy, until a familiar voice cuts through your thoughts.
“Yo! There you are.”
You look up to see Cater, leaning casually against a pillar, phone in hand. He straightens when he sees your expression, smile fading into something more careful. “So?” he asks gently. “How’d it go with Riddle?” You stop in front of him and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “…Bad,” you admit. Cater blinks. “Bad like ‘he flipped a table’ bad, or bad like-” “Bad like I didn’t say anything at all,” you interrupt quietly. He studies your face, then pockets his phone. “Oh.”
You laugh weakly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m a coward,” you say bluntly. “I went there fully intending to talk about the rules. The collars. Everything. And the moment he opened the door and smiled at me like that…” Your voice trails off.
Cater doesn’t rush you.
“He was happy I came,” you continue. “Tired, but happy. Like seeing me made his day better. And I just-” You clench your fist. “I froze. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything that might upset him.”
Silence hangs between you for a moment.
“So yeah,” you finish bitterly. “I probably won’t be able to bring it up at all.”
Cater exhales slowly, then shakes his head. “Okay, first of all? You’re not a coward.”
You scoff. “Feels like one.”
“No,” he insists, tone unusually firm. “What you’re describing isn’t fear, it’s care.” He leans back against the pillar again, arms crossing loosely. “You saw him without the Housewarden mask. You saw how tired he was. Of course you hesitated.”
You look down. “But if I don’t say anything, nothing changes.”
“True,” Cater says. “But dropping that kind of bomb on him when he’s already exhausted?” He winces. “That could’ve gone really bad.”
You glance at him. “You really think so?”
“Oh yeah.” He gives a humorless chuckle. “Riddle doesn’t handle feeling challenged very well especially by someone he trusts. And especially not after a day like today.”
That hits harder than you expect.
Cater softens his tone. “Look, Riddle sees rules as protection. As safety. Asking him to remove some probably feels, to him, like asking him to let the dorm fall apart. That’s not something he can process in one conversation.” You sigh. “I know. That’s why this sucks.” He nudges your shoulder lightly. “Hey. The fact that you want to have that conversation already puts you leagues ahead of most people here.” You manage a small smile. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“Give it time,” Cater says. “You didn’t miss your chance. You’re just… choosing a better moment.” You lean against the wall beside him, tension slowly easing from your chest. “…You really think he might listen someday?” Cater looks down the hallway toward Riddle’s door, thoughtful. “If it’s anyone? Yeah. It’s you.” He glances back at you. “Just don’t beat yourself up for not doing it perfectly the first time.”
You close your eyes briefly, then nod. “Thanks, Cater.” He grins, lighter now. “Anytime. That’s what emotional support upperclassmen are for.”
For the first time that night, you feel a little less alone and a little more hopeful that, someday, Heartslabyul might change.
Then he straightens, claps his hands together once, and puts on a brighter smile, not forced, just gentle. “Okay,” he says, “new plan.” You blink and look up at him. “Huh?” He tilts his head, studying you. “You’ve been thinking way too hard for way too long. Your brain needs a timeout before it starts spiraling again.” You huff a quiet laugh. “Is that your professional diagnosis?”
“Absolutely,” he replies without missing a beat. “Certified Heartslabyul Therapist Cater Diamond, at your service.”
Despite yourself, your shoulders loosen a little.
He gestures down the hall. “Come hang out with me for a bit. No rules talk. No Housewarden drama. No unbirthday-related trauma.” He pauses, then adds, “Okay, minimal unbirthday trauma.” You hesitate. “Cater, I don’t want to ruin your night with my mood.” He gives you a look, soft and sincere. “Hey. You’re not ruining anything. Besides,” he smirks, “if I let you go back to your room like this, you’re just gonna replay that conversation in your head until sunrise.”
…He’s not wrong.
“So,” he continues, hands in his pockets, “what do you say? We grab some snacks I definitely did not hide from Riddle, chill somewhere quiet, and pretend today didn’t happen.” You exhale slowly. The tension in your chest doesn’t vanish, but it eases just enough. “…Yeah,” you say at last. “That actually sounds nice.”
Cater’s grin widens. “Knew it.” He turns and starts walking, then glances back to make sure you’re following. “C’mon. You’ve been holding this dorm together emotionally all day. It’s my turn to distract you.”
As you fall into step beside him, the halls don’t feel quite as heavy anymore.