‘The Lamp Is Low.’

‘The lamp is low.’

Razzle Dingley x Reader.

➜A/N: if you don’t want to read anything sad my fellow loved ones, I suggest you not to read this :). @nenynrawrites ! Razzle Fic is here. Thank you for writing a fic based off the Razzle series, I’ll try my best to get back to it. That was really sweet and I’m still happy💕🥹.

➜Word count: I hate math

➜⚠︎︎Warnings: schizophrenia , pills, Halloween , distorted things , death , cords , bandages . (If there’s more please let me know!) ‼️‼️PLEASE DONT DRINK AND DRIVE‼️‼️

➜Summary: It’s been a while since Razzle had mailed you back. All of a sudden he randomly shows up and everything turns back to normal, except for the lamp.

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The lamp is low.



The flowers are dead.

The clouds are grey.

The grass is red.

Your Table is Empty, Plenty chairs to go. Your plate in front of you is full with all you can eat, yet you don’t have the appetite — but the energy to pick at it with distraught and confusion.

You colored hues look at the small lamp that lights the dark kitchen. To your left is a muddy — wet — rainy day.

It’s time for bed.

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It’s 11:45AM. Sitting on your bed with your feet dangling off, as the sunray of sunlight hit your back, reflecting a bright light. You look at the lamp on your dresser.

You then pull the string of the lamp, turning it on.

‘Click.’

You open the top drawer of your mini brown dresser and pull out a piece of paper and a red pen. Now beginning — to write a letter.

‘Dear Razzle,

If you can reach out to me, please do. It’s been 2 days. Or maybe more.

-your best buddy Y/N :)’

Along with a stick figure on the bottom right, of you and him. You trance your way down the stairs before throwing on your yellow house shoes to get the mail delivered.

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It’s been 5 hours.

It’s now 4:20pm.

Boredom. You reach for your phone just right on time.

‘Ding!’

Notification, Mavirus.

“Hm?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You then open the message with your scrawny fingers, that could possibly show the bones under.

It read,

‘Man, we haven’t kicked it in a while, do you want to today? Maybe? The friends and others are here ;)’

You didn’t mind, who would you bother now?

You went to shower and to brush your teeth, and later head to the park.

Fun right?

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Right?

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Day 3.

no letter back. The lamp is still lit in your bed room, a waiting for another letter.

It’s daily usage is running out like a person with no fuel.

No sounds, just birds tweeting and feet shuffling to the counter.

You pour your favorite box of cereal and milk, then sit in your designated seat.

To glance up at the lamp.

The lamp is low.

The lamp — is low.

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Brushing your teeth you hear the front door open. Familiar foot steps are shuffling through the house to find you.

“Mornin’ Mate! Brushin’ your teeth ay’? I found this really cool Magazine — what do ya think about it?”

Razzle then shoved them magazine to your chest with no such force, but wearing a giddy silly smile that anyone would lable ‘stupid’

You stop brushing your teeth while the other free hand, grabs at the thick texturized but thin layered magazine.

“Huh? It says nothing but ‘Razzle’? I don’t get it.”

“— What do you mean you don’t get it? It says my name, Oi. People know me out there like before! Cool ainnit? Maybe you can be well known too, just know the world first. Gotta say you’re a bit boring.”

You raise an eyebrow at him suspicious and with a facial expression of someone who said something entirely too dumb but too obvious.

Sure.

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Laying on your perfect felt and fit sized bed, with Razzle at the right end of it.

Plucking at your guitar, you play a sweet but memorizing tune. Something that could calm your nerves.

Looking at the dresser for a couple of seconds, and back To Razzle, who’s tracing weird shapes with his fingers with one eye closed.

“You never got my letter did you?” Biting the side of your cheek. Hoping he could recall when you sent that letter out.

“Letter, I haven’t received a letter from you. When was it written or delivered?”

Right, you haven’t went to the nearest post office to ask for it to get delivered. Instead you threw it in your mail. Which resulting in your delivering the same paper you ought to write for Razzle, back to you.

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“New arcade open, down to go? It’s around the corner..” The drummer begin playing with a blue pen, twirling it around his finger as if it was a drum stick, a habit he had picked up.

“I’m down if it’s with you.” Gently sifting your guitar down, to lay your hands on the bed and give him a smile.

Razzle was like your second piece, he made you whole. Without him, there actually wouldn’t be much to laugh about, talk about, and cry about.

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7pm had struck quickly. Time seems to go by fast. Now it’s time to go home. You both were full off of food, sweets and drinks —- maybe laughter.

“That wasn’t t’bad yeah? Maybe going outside and exploring could do you some good.” Dingley commented , slurping on his blue freezie.

He’s right, going outside with friends isn’t as bad as you thought. You just weren’t prepared.

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It’s been three months, you and Razzle had been hanging out like two strangers at a bar. Non-stop.

The lamp is low

The flowers are alive

The clouds are white

The grass is green

Life is life.

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A knock was sounded on your glass window on the Halloween night. You move the black and orange curtains to the side before seeing your best buddy, Razzle! :)

He blows on the window , creating fog before writing

‘Come trick or treat with me!’

“Aren’t we a bit too old?”

‘There’s no age limit on going to get candy on Halloween :(‘

He blew away the previous writing, blew more fog to create another writing.

How can you say no. You grab your bucket that mysteriously matches

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“It’s cold out here ainnit?” Your best buddy pretends as if he turned into ice.

“As much as I love you, please — cut out the embarrassing antics Raz”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing”

“Why?”

“Nevermind..”

— A teenager then bumped into your causing some of your Candy to spill.

“Watch it, freak.” The average teen spat as his group of friends laughed, who were dressed like skeletons, band members, serial killers and all.

Sigh.. teenagers..

“That was one way to put it, why don’t you say something? — Oi, watch we’re you going! Ye bumped into us first ya git!”

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“Two more houses isn’t bad, cmon mate!” He pleaded and pleaded until you turned in.

“Fine fine, Two more. Don’t take forever either.” Huffing, crossing your arms you watch him run off to Another house like a kid on their own.

How this man could act of as a child, it was very enduring.

You begin to feel dizzy and a bit nauseous, taking a seat on the side walk , closing you eyes and breathing in the cool fresh air for a couple of minutes.

Everything slowly begin to close around you, noise, people, everything…

“You alright mate?”

Your eyes then shoot open to see Dingley standing there with wide eyes of shock and confusion, his lips slightly parted before giving a dimpled-sweet smile.

Knowing that you’re okay, the glint in his eyes shine more.

Then he offers to help you up— which now results into you both going back home.

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“Finally, home sweet home..” The warmth of the house perfectly hitting both yours and Razzle’s skin, kicking off your shoes next to Razzle’s and putting your bucket across his.

His back facing the lamp as his hands lay on the pumpkin plastic bucket.

“Ready?”

“Wait—“ Walking to the cabinet to take your medicine for schizophrenia. You then pop the pill in your mouth with water, looking down and now you’ve reached your bucket.

Tipping it over, you realize Razzle hasn’t tipped his over.

Looking up,

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He wasn’t there.

schizophrenia has the peaks.

He was one of them.

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Waking up to a bright light and your head pounding. Bandages and cords were coving most of your body. Your leg was in a cast and people — such as nurses and friends were watching over you.

“What happened..” your throat scratched our, leaving your to wince at the absence of water and the feeling of an extreme dry throat.

“You were in a car crash containing a drunk driver, Vince.”

Waking up completely, you look around for Razzle to find any source to see if he was okay.

“Razzle died.”

The lamp ahead of you started to look distorted and weird.

‘The lamp is low.’