⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ knittednovel ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

── may i request to see [insert]? you may request headcanons or short drabbles. on the rare occasion, i might write a longer oneshot if i feel particularly inspired, but do not expect it. please note that i am in no way obligated to answer/indulge someone, especially if their ask does not align with my personal morals or beliefs. also, responses may not come in a timely manner ── both because of real life obligations and the fact that writing is still like a foreign language to me. know that i will not take requests for nsfw or requests that run the line of being problematic...good rule of thumb; the most problematic i will go is for yandere themes. ALSO JUST TO BE EXTREMELY CLEAR; i will not be writing ortho with romantic themes <3 thank you please also note that i may not write requests that are overly specific or explicitly gendered (though exceptions may apply). i would much rather write for a broader audience! ── masterlists! [ao3]

work in progress...

── tags!

#roman's ramblings ♪ ; posts where im talk/answer asks #roman's headcanons ♪ ; anything bulleted #roman's drabbles ♪ ; anything under 1k #roman's oneshots ♪ ; anything above 1k

zzz... ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

You’re not sure how the red-headed troublemaker of Heartslabyul always manages to pull you into his shenanigans, but here you were again, for the umpteenth time, being lectured by the (former) tyrant housewarden for something you didn’t even do. The true offender, Ace, was stiffly hunched on the floor next to you, head hung over the hands clenched on his lap. Both of you were decorated with fresh new collars that were wrought uncomfortably around your necks.

“And those are staying on until I hear a sincere ‘Yes, Housewarden! I’m sorry Housewarden!’ from both of you! Am I clear?!” Riddle fumed, stamping one heeled foot into the turf in front of you. His staff slammed into the dirt at the same time, making you feel the weight of his rage through the dirt that flew from the impact. Riddle never gets less frightening, you think, cursing Ace for dragging you into this.

And perhaps sensing your curse (and affirming your belief that he may be an imp or devil of some sort), your coercer eyed you with an uneasy look. You returned his gaze with a glare. The two of you muttered half-hearted ‘yes, Housewarden’s, ‘sorry, Housewarden’s, which only made his eyebrows furrow deeper. 

How did you even find yourself in this situation (again)? ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“No fair. I helped you with the magical analysis homework last week, but you won’t do a little arts-and-crafts with me? Talk about stingy, ungrateful, tight-asse—!”

You scoffed, interjecting. “Last time I ‘helped’ you paint the roses, you just made me do everything! Thanks, but I’m not doing your chores for you.” 

Class had just ended and the four of you (Ace, Deuce, Grim, and yourself) were seated in the cafeteria, bickering between bites of sandwiches and sips of earl gray tea (which wasn’t allowed today, but Riddle had been much more lenient on this rule as of late). There, you and Ace performed the typical back-and-forth that everyone around you expected at this point. Deuce, for once not having been dragged into Ace’s argument, chewed quietly before pointing at your plates. 

“You both have barely touched your food,” He said, cheek puffed up before swallowing one of the last bites of his own meal. “The lunch ghosts put a lot of effort into cooking, so you better not waste it. Also, if you don’t start eating soon, you’re not gonna finish in time for alchemy lessons with Professor Crewel.”

Grim jumped up on the table, eyes glittering greedily. “I can help you guys finish it, if ya’ don’t want it—!” His tubby body was airborne, ready to pounce on your sandwich, until Ace gripped him by his collar. 

“You wish, you furball! Anyways, [Y/N]!!! I’m not taking no for an answer!!!!! Show up to Heartslabyul!!!!!!!!! Or I’m never helping you with your magical analysis assignments again!!!!!!!!! You’ll just have to ask Sebek for help instead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” You glared at him, which only made him look more defiant in return. 

As upset as this made you, it is true that he’s been saving your ass with that subject. And you really didn’t want to ask Sebek—who manages to be even more conceited than Ace when it comes to lending his assistance out to others.

“Grrrrghh…uuughhhhhHHHHHHHHFINE, okay, I’ll go paint your stupid roses with you! But I swear to the Seven, if you ditch again, I’m going straight to the housewarden and telling him you’re forcing a magicless student to do your chores while you go and party it up in your room!”

“Yay!”  ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

…That’s how you ended up at Heartslabyul. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to sense your disrespect from a mile away? You don’t even wait until I’ve gone 10 steps before taunting me like… like how a petulant child would! I may be more relaxed when it comes to some of the more…nonsensical laws, but do not think that I will tolerate such rude and insulting behavior!” 

And there’s the reason for the beheading. Riddle had entered the garden and noted some shoddy work on Ace’s paintjob (“You’ve overlooked some of the petals. Just because you can’t see the blemish doesn’t mean you should settle for mediocrity. Keep that in mind for not only your chores here at Heartslabyul, but also your studies and…” etc). Not 20 seconds after his back had turned, Ace stuck out his tongue at him. While Riddle had made it quite a ways across the garden, he didn’t miss the melodic “behhhh~” sound Ace had made. He had stopped in his tracks, and turned around with such a ridiculous amount of speed that he was, for a second, just a red comet streaking across the field. 

“Well, it’s just that you’re being nitpicky! I painted the roses, and as long as you don’t lift up the petals, they all look completely red. So what’s the big deal?” He retorted with a scowl. 

“You are unbelievable. Imagine if a strong gust were to blow through during tomorrow’s Unbirthday Party—we would have to pause the festivities to fix them! It’s much easier to just do it properly the first time so that we’re prepared for the worst!” 

Ace rolled his eyes, but remained silent. Finding the lull in the conversation, you quietly spoke up. “Um, Housewarden…? I completely agree with everything you’ve said. Ace is just unbelievable for being so sloppy, isn’t he? That being said…” you sympathized, ignoring the disgusted look Ace was tossing your way. “Is there a reason, perhaps, to why you have beheaded me as well…?” 

“...Rule 271. One must leave the table within 15 minutes after completing their lunch. Rule 339. The post-meal beverage is a lemon tea with two sugar cubes! And more importantly, simply you being here enables Ace to violate the rules 10x more than he already does on a regular day,” He sighed, tension easing a bit as he spoke to you. So he noticed the tea, you think, biting your tongue to stop yourself from clicking it. “I think it’s important for me to set a precedent that his actions have a consequence on you as well. I believe he’s more likely to behave knowing you will be a casualty if he continues to recklessly ignore the laws—that is, considering his affections for you.” 

This was news to you. Ace, more likely to behave on your behalf? Affections for you? You would have taken it as Riddle’s wishful thinking and a misunderstanding of Ace’s character, if the first year next to you didn’t begin sputtering. “Riddle—!!! What the hell, shut up!!!”

“Shut up…?! Who do you th—” Riddle’s face turned red as he hissed, turning to berate Ace once more. But as soon as his mouth opened, he went silent, before his facial expression shifted into one of mortification. “A-Ah… It appears I’ve, um, misspoken. Excuse me.” 

Both your collars fell off at once. Seemingly unable to navigate the conversation anymore, Riddle disappeared quickly through the nearest thicket (not one of the arcs or anything. Just straight up through the hedge wall), leaving you, Ace, and this new revelation/bomb that he dropped right before his departure. 

“...Think he’s going the right way?” You asked Ace. 

“I hope he gets lost for at least an hour,” he grumbled, face lightly dusted pink. “He has this place memorized like the back of his hand, so he probably won’t, but I hope he does. …He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That guy doesn’t have a single clue…where does he get off making up crazy things like that?”

For once, silence falls between the two of you. As much as Ace grumbles that Riddle is crazy, you know him. He may have a silver tongue and the ability to fool most people when it comes to minor bluffs, but it always falls apart when someone catches a hint of his sincerity. That slightly nervous look, the way that he won’t meet your eyes for very long, and the way he’s denying things so vehemently—all classic Ace indicators that he has been caught being truly honest. 

You’re silent for a moment, processing your own feelings, before speaking. “You’re sort of an idiot.”

“Where’s this coming from?!” 

“Just thinking through some things out loud—And childish, stupid, immature, insensitive, and annoying. Oh, and don’t forget that you’re a slacker too,” He frowned and seemed ready to retort, but you didn’t want to let him. “Despite all that, I probably trust you the most out of everyone I know here. I mean, hey, you can be sort of a douchebag sometimes, but ultimately I know that you usually think things through. You’re stupid but not stupid, and sometimes you’re smart,” You glanced up to the sky, feeling your own embarrassment setting in. “Where am I going with this…? Um. Well. Maybe I could like someone like that. Like someone who makes me feel smart and stupid all at once. A little. If it were true, of course, that they liked me or something.”

The ginger stared blankly at you. “What the hell? That was so corny. I think I’m going to lose feelings.” 

“Hey—! Wait,” You pause. “Okay, so you do like me! It was way easier getting the truth out of you than I thought it would be.” 

“Well, honestly, yeah. I was sorta scared about what your response would be when you found out, but I didn’t think it would be THAT lame, so nothing I say could be as bad in comparison, ahahaha~!” Despite being embarrassed by his teasing, you grin and hit his shoulder playfully. You’re glad to see that nervous expression was replaced with his typical carefree grin. “Ouch, okay! If it makes ya’ feel any better, it wasn’t bad enough that I’m over you.”

He paused. “...You weren’t just saying that to make me feel better, right?” 

“I would’ve rejected you if I wasn’t into you, dude.” 

He grinned. “Yeah, I know. Just making sure. A—nyways.” He stretched up, arms folding casually behind his head. “I’m still pissed. Let’s get outta here and go get something to eat.”

“Wait, huh? What about the roses? What happened to ‘you would die for me, do anything for my sake’ so I don’t get beheaded?” 

“...Well, I wasn’t lying about Riddle not having a clue. What, he really thinks I’d paint every single petal that meticulously for you? That’d be such a pain.” 

The roses are not red. Nor are they white. Instead, they’re a mismatch of different patterns, multicolored in varied hues of the rainbow. 

“Riddle, you’re sick,” You fretted, forcing him to sit down at the nearest garden table. The queen of roses had been looking pale all day, and his inability to cast spells that were easier than kindergarten-level (for him, at least) was extremely concerning. It reminded you of the time Cater caught a fever severe enough that his Magicam status remained inactive for at least three days. Or when Trey couldn’t even bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies without needing at least 10 minutes of rest between each step, and collapsed entirely when no one wanted to eat the cookies that were a byproduct of feverish fervor (thank god for Ruggie’s bottomless pit of a stomach, because you weren’t sure if Trey would’ve survived had they been tossed out). Just like a Cater without Magicam or a Trey without baking, a Riddle Rosehearts without his typical magic capabilities felt…wrong. “You need to rest. Get someone else to cover the Unbirthday Party preparations, or just reschedule it until you’re feeling better.”

Looking disheveled, the red-haired boy sighed shakily, wiping the sweat that dripped down the side of his face. “N…Nonsense. A rudimentary task like this…don’t under…” He heaved here, and though you moved quickly to stabilize him, he weakly shoved you away. “Don’t underestimate me…!” 

Gripping his magical wand, he gave a flimsy wave in the direction of a horde of white roses. In a blink of an eye, they shifted from white to…another kaleidoscopic blend of hues. You’re pretty sure he's managed to miscolor every rose in the garden. 

Both of you are silent as you stare at the field of prismatic roses flushed across the garden. 

“Yeah, I’m calling Cater.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Phew—” Cater clone #1 sighed, wiping away the sweat on his brow. “Our housewarden sure is stubborn.”

“Waaaay too stubborn,” Cater clone #2 fiddled with a strand of hair on the side of his face. “Like, I swear it wasn’t this bad the last time he got sick. He wasn’t this dedicated to the ‘typical, everything is a-okay’ bit then.”

Cater clone #3 grinned, a mischievous look painting his face. “Well, unlike the last few Unbirthday Parties, a certain prefect finally has some time on their schedule to be in attendance~!”

“Oh, you’re right! Of course, he must be excited to finally get some more time with them. What an unexpected romantic side! Major props, Riddle! I’m rooting for you!” Cater clone #4 clapped gleefully. 

“What are you guys talking about?” All but one Cater (the one holding the phone) disappeared in an explosion of cards the moment you entered the scene. He was swiping through Magicam liking posts, glancing up at you briefly and giving you a casual wave. 

“Oh, heya~! Thanks for texting me—he REALLY needed to get some rest,” Ignoring your question, he pocketed his phone. You could tell he was still toying with it despite the fact it was now out of sight. “It’s been a while since he’s gotten so sick, but that’s probably because of all the extra Unbirthday preparations he’s taking right now.”

You frowned. Definitely, the day you spent with Riddle was far from ordinary. He was typically a severe, law-abiding housewarden. You were used to seeing him carry himself with elegance and a rich lexicon more common in nobles twice his age. Not only would he dole out punishments swiftly and righteously, but also command those around him to act in orderly ways—and then afterwards, he would ask you gently if you would like to feed the hedgehogs with them, teaching you where they best like to be pet, and then invite you for tea afterwards. 

The Riddle you saw yesterday was far from elegant and verbose. Pallid, trembling, and struggling to speak, the boy appeared as though he was being worn by his own cape. While insisting upon wearing heels, he continued to stumble every other step, muttering quiet ‘curses’ under his breath. And despite the pleas you and the members of Heartslabyul made for him to rest, he refused to yield. “The Unbirthday party preparations will resume as normal.” You were worried about him, to say the least. So, while Cater carted him off to his room and Riddle got some sleep in, you made some soup and grabbed some medicine you had stored in your cabinet back at Ramshackle. 

“He’s definitely more intense than usual… I mean, you guys host Unbirthday parties pretty often, right? Is there something special about this one in particular…?” You couldn’t think of anything. After all, Unbirthday parties are just parties held on days without Heartslabian birthdays, so there couldn’t possibly be anything that was out of the ordinary with it, unless it happened to coincide with some big holiday that Riddle was interested in. 

Cater stopped fiddling with his phone, and instead started twirling hair around his finger. “Hmm~♪. Well, there’s nothing I can think of… but say, [Y/N]-chan, hasn’t it been a while since you’ve attended one of our Unbirthday parties? Maybe Riddle just wanted to try extra hard to make it a good one since we had a special guest.”

It was easy to tell what Cater was implying (you’ve spent enough time around the Heartslabyul members to know). And it’s not like you couldn’t believe what he was saying—you did notice that Riddle liked to invite you to Unbirthday parties, study sessions, and even invited you to do some Heartslabyul chores during your down time. Still, you shook your head. 

“Even if that’s the case… he really shouldn’t be working himself into a state where he can’t do basic spells. I mean… just look at all the roses,” You frowned. “They’re lovely, but I know he was aiming for red. I’d rather him take care of his health so that his magic doesn’t act up like that.”

Cater looked serious for a second, before smiling gently. “Aw, you’re so sweet. I’m glad that you’re so worried for our housewarden. That being said, I don’t think that’s the reason why the rose colors are off.” You tilted your head in confusion to this, before asking him what he meant. “Well, Cay-kun doesn’t know for sure—but usually magic like this depends on the imagination of the user! That sorta intuition doesn’t go away just cause you caught a cold or something. Anyways, you’re probably better off asking Riddle what’s going on with him~ and preferably before that soup goes cold!”

“Alright, let’s go, let’s go~!” Another Cater stepped in from the hallway. He urged you towards Riddle’s room from behind, patting your shoulders cheerfully. “Delivery for our Queen of Hearts~!” 

Always an extroverted whirlwind. “Woah, okay, okay! Geez, why are there so many of your clones around right now?”

“Well, we need extra hands for the Unbirthday preparations!” Original Cater called from the lounge sofa. “We can’t let all the hard work Riddle put in go to waste!” You wanted to question him more, but you were quickly whisked out of the room by Cater’s clone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Alright, this is where we part ways~! See ya’ at the Unbirthday party tomorrow [Y/N]!” 

The man who led you here burst into cards. It’s here you realize that you could’ve been asking this Cater questions the whole time too, but now it’s far too late for that. You sighed before knocking on the door. “Um, hello…? Riddle, are you awake…?”

For a second, your only answer is silence. He must be asleep, you think, until you hear a muffled cough from behind the door. A weak, raspy sounding Riddle returned your question. “[Y/N]...? What on earth are you doing here…?”

“Um, delivery! I brought some soup, cough drops, and tea for your throat,” You listed. “May I come in to drop everything off?” 

“Are you wearing a mask of some sort?” You answer yes. “...Then, only briefly. I wouldn’t want you to fall ill because of me.”

The sight that greets you when you open the door relieves you. While he still looks and sounds quite sick, it is an improvement from yesterday. There was definitely some color that had returned to his skin, and he seemed to be struggling much less to get through his sentences. If anything, he only sort of looked a bit embarrassed, an unamused and bashful expression making its way onto his face. 

“You look better than before,” Handing him the thermos full of soup, you pull up a chair next to his bed (making sure not to sit too close). “How are you feeling?”

“...It’s an improvement from yesterday,” He mumbled, sipping slowly at the soup. “My apologies that you had to see me behaving in such an unbecoming way.”

“No, no! Don’t apologize. I was just worried, that’s all… I mean. I know you take the Unbirthday parties very seriously, and I love that you do. They’re always a blast when I get to attend. But your health should come before anything else.”

Riddle’s eyes widened in surprise, and you noticed (behind his already flushed face) that the tips of his ears were turning red. “...Thank you for being concerned about me. I…will keep that in mind for the future.”

The two of you fell into your typical comfortable silence, like during your tea parties or hedgehog care days. But this time, you were taking care of him and you were the one serving him tea. You set down a steaming mug of chamomile on his bedside table. “Ah, before I forget to ask. I was worried that the roses yesterday” (you notice him tense once you mention this, but continue anyways) “were turning out discolored because you weren’t feeling well, but Cater told me that might not be the case. So I was curious what that was all about.”

Riddle’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ugh, that Cater…! …It truly was a result of my poor health, in some regards…” He muttered the last part sort of quietly. Reaching out an unsteady hand, he held onto the mug and stared into the water, contemplating. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him, and you liked to give him enough time to articulate his feelings when he wasn’t instantly jumping to defend himself. “I realized recently that I don’t know your favorite color. So, I was under the impression that if I were to test a variety of them, you might comment on the one that stood out to you the most, and I would be able to keep it in mind for the future.”

You blinked owlishly at him, before attempting to smother a smile. “You could… just ask?” 

“That reaction is precisely why Cater shouldn’t have said anything!” His anger flared up and was torn down quickly by his sickness, which had sent him into a coughing fit. “I am well aware that it was a poorly thought out plan, and that I was lacking the correct judgement due to my current affliction. I realize in hindsight that I could just ask, so I acknowledge that I was being quite foolish.”

You thought for a second. “You know, though, I think this applies to some other things as well. If you want to spend some time with me, you don’t need to make it like… a Ramshackle-Heartslabyul dorm meeting. I’m more than happy to just come and spend time with you.” 

The sick boy flushed an even deeper red, but then looked very grave. “Did… did Cater tell you? Or was it Trey?”

“Hm?”

“...One of them has betrayed me tonight.” 

He was starting to sound like a religious story from your own world. “What are you referring to…?”

“One of them must have divulged, intentionally or unintentionally, the fondness that I have for our time spent together. Otherwise, you would not be repeating their words so exactly! Whichever one it was, it’s off with their head—!”

“Riddle. I hate to break it to you, but the only one divulging any information is none other than yourself.” You watched as he stared at you blankly, before his face dropped into what you could only assume was despair of some kind. “That being said, you don’t really need to worry. I like spending time with you too.”

While he still held his head in hands (a pose you haven’t seen him pull before), you noticed his body had stiffened for a second. “...Pardon?” 

Your own face was beginning to burn and feel feverish, though you knew that it was no viral infection that had gotten to you. “I like you too.” 

There was a long pause in the conversation, and you suddenly felt bad for springing all this upon a sick and confused Riddle, whose unexplainable facial expression tells you that he’s attempting (and failing) to calculate the perfect response to give you. So, you speak once more. 

“Ah! Um, may…may I propose something…?”

“Propose?!”

“That’s too far of a jump. No… I just… next time we decide to spend some time together—instead of a meeting, or study session, or something else along the lines of the professional world… can we call it a date instead…?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Omake (Cater and Trey)

“So, obviously Riddle likes [Y/N], and vice-versa! But when will they reveal that to each other? That’s the important question!”

“Cater,” Trey interrupted with a smirk, leaning his bodyweight on the sofa frame behind Heartslabyul’s skater boy. “Or, Caters. Aren’t you tired of gossiping amongst, well, yourself?”

“Trey! No eavesdropping on me, and me, and me!” Cater shooed his clones out of the room. “Back to work, guys!”

Cater grinned cheekily at Trey, who smiled and sat himself on the other end of the couch. Both of them had been invested in this for the past few months, finding Riddle’s oblivious and awkward attempts at communicating with his crush (who also obviously liked him in return) not only very cute, but also endlessly entertaining. 

“Well…I walked past Riddle’s room earlier and it seems like they’re still talking. I didn’t think it’d be right for me to listen to their conversation, but you know what I did see?” Trey asked, waiting for Cater to perk up. “Riddle was holding their hand.”

“Omg? OMG?” Cater gripped the sofa’s wood, thumping his hand against the padded backrest like a rabbit’s foot. “No way… that’s…sorta crazy.” 

Trey simply closed his eyes, a contented look on his face. “I get the feeling we’re going to see the Prefect around here a lot more often now.”