â Kinks and adult themes that are legal and consensual
â Soft dom/sub, intimacy, tension
â LGBTQ+ friendly work
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â Slow burn, fast burn
â Headcanons and shorter pieces
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â Anything involving minors or characters depicted as minors
â Non-consensual acts
â Incest
â Bestiality
â Real-person smut
â Extreme gore or torture
â Anything hateful or harmful
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hey is ur account still active and taking requests on Tumblr or are you now deciding to not post on here anymore? Because if not then where can I request some stuff because I really like your ranfren head cannon stuff
To be honest I havenât been getting much activity as of late so I guess that unconvinced me in a way, anyway! Iâll try send a few of my drafts in the next couple of days
Hiii I have a question...do you still perhaps continue the ranfren one-shots? Its okay if not! Take care<3
Yeah I do!! Iâve had a couple requests so Iâll get back to them, also writing up provoked part 2 since Itâs long overdue TvT. But by all means I still am doing the one-shots! Request if ya want!
Queen pls write ANYTHING for Nyon. I will eat it TF UP. I swear Iâm so obsessed with him Iâve read every Ao3 and Tumblr fanfic there is on him â ïž But I wanted to request how we slowly got closer to him as Lutherâs new pet and he got comfortable and then they FELL IN LOVE đ±đ€Ż
Rematch?
Nyon x Reader
You didnât ask to be here.
You were a university student. Nothing special. Took psychology, kept your head down, survived on vending machine coffee. One night you were walking home from class, earbuds in, phone dead, and then⊠blank. Next thing you knew, you woke up in a white van parked behind a building with no windows and a man in a mask telling you to sit still.
The Pet Agency, they called it. Like it was normal. Like this was a real job and not some human trafficking nightmare, or was it human? You remembered seeing some people who.. well looked less human then youâd hope. Your head hurts just thinking about it.
Luther bought you. Or claimed you. It was all so blurry. You remembered staring at him when he signed the papers, trying to process how someone could look so awkward in such nice clothes. He didnât smile. Just glanced over you like you were some sort of pet.
Now you lived in his house. manor? Whatever it was. And they expected you to call him Master Luther.
You didnât.
Well. Not unless someone scary was listening.
Luther was weird. Not in the way Randal was weird, thankfully. That man set off every internal alarm you had. Smiling?? too long. Watching too closely. You avoided rooms he entered. Nana was worse. No offense to her, but she was terrifying. She did help any unwanted visitors stay away, but youâve always kept your distance.
Carpet Kitty, you barely saw. Just heard subtle purring from the carpet. You liked her, in theory. Mostly because of how much she annoyed Nyen.
Sebastian⊠he existed. You didnât talk to him. You figured as long as he didnât actively dislike you, you were doing fine.
Nyon, though.
Well. You were playing cards with him right now.
You sat at a tiny table in one of the side halls, the one next to the crooked window and the shelf of half-dead plants. The light was dim. The tea was cold. Your legs were going numb in the chair, but you werenât leaving yet.
He was quiet. Not shy, just reserved. Watching more than talking. His Russian accent was thick, his English clipped, but he was trying. Sometimes you wondered if he actually liked these games or just tolerated them because he had nothing better to do, other than to smoke of course.
âYou deal,â he said.
You blinked, realizing youâd zoned out. You shuffled the worn deck and gave it a lazy cut, dealing three cards each.
You flipped yours. Five.
He flipped his. Jack.
âDamn,â you muttered. âThatâs yours.â
He grunted, scooped up the pile, and gave you a smug look that was so subtle you almost missed it.
The game went on.
âSoâŠâ you tried, testing the waters. âWhat do you actually do here? Besides this?â
He didnât answer right away. Tilted his head. Looked at you like you were speaking French.
You tried again, slower.
âWhat is⊠your job. In the house.â
He pointed to himself, then to the deck. âThis.â
You raised a brow. âYour job is cards?â
He shrugged, eyes flicking to the next draw.
You laughed under your breath. âLucky.â
You werenât sure if he understood or just let it pass. He didnât mind silence, that much was clear. You used to find that awkward. Now, it was almost⊠calm. You still donât get how he randomly disappears at time, youâve began to just accept whatever happeneds in this house.
He laid a ten. You beat it with a queen. You grinned. Looks like his beginners luck is running out
âDonât pout. Youâre still winning overall.â You couldnât tell if it was a pout or not but you chose the former of the two.
He narrowed his eyes. âIs lie.â
You held up the score sheet youâd scribbled on the corner of a napkin. âMath doesnât lie.â
He made a show of turning his face away seemingly embarrassed. You tossed a sugar cube at him.
It bounced off his shoulder. He looked at it on the table. Then at you.
Then picked it up and ate it.
You didnât say anything. Just snorted, and reshuffled the deck.
This was the most normal thing youâd done all week.
You didnât know what this was between you and Nyon. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe just two people trying not to lose their minds. But for now, it worked.
And if Luther came down the hall, or Nyen walked in, or Randal asked what you were up to, youâd just say cards.
It wasnât a lie. Not really.
You flipped the next card. King.
Nyon flipped his. Also king.
Your eyes met. Neither of you moved.
Then he slapped the table with both hands, hard. A plate on the counter rattled.
You burst out laughing.
He looked too pleased with himself. Maybe even smug.. if that was possible.
And just like that, the next round began.
Ofcourse you lost. Again. Maybe you just suck..
(Yikes , some of the writing is missing out, forgot how hard it is to write on mobile lmao. Anyway hope you like this!!!!! Sorry for being so inactive (TvT)
Owemjii are you comfortable taking more randal requests(or other chars if thats alr!) if so.. aha i have a few in mind đ no pressure tho! Take care of yourself AHAHA its just great to see people still engaging in the ranfren fandom..
I've acc been wanting to polish up my writing skills so requests are more than appreciated!!
(yall r so sweet TvT)
Hi! Its been a while since you posten but if everrrrrâŠ. Could you write how a sleepover would be with randal? Please and thanks! Hope your doing well
Humble endings..
Sleep over with Randal
I haven't written in so long!!!! sowwy if its short );
You'd been dreading this moment all week. Your parents, in their infinite wisdom, decided that a sleepover at Randal Ivory's house would be a "great bonding experience." Never mind that Randal was the epitome of unsettling, with his ever-present grin and penchant for creeping people out. You had recently moved to Canada because of some corporate job your dad got and you had been forced to move as a whole family. Of course that meant you had to attend a new school... and well.. that of course ,meant you had to conveniently sit down next to the least sane person in the room and be forced to accept his invite for a sleep over. (how could your parents do such a thing..!!)
But here you were, standing at the doorstep of the Ivory household, overnight bag in hand, contemplating all the life choices that led you to this point.
The door creaked open before you could knock, revealing ..who exactly?? Lu.. Loofah??.. No wait.. you vaguely remember Randal mentioning his name.. Lu...Luther!! Randal's older brother. Tall, emotionless, and perpetually unblinking. Wait.. does that guy even have eyelid-
"Ah, Y/N," he intoned in his monotone voice, eyes wide and unexpressive. "Welcome. Please, come in."
You stepped inside, the air thick with an indescribable tension. The living room was a chaotic mess of dolls, some missing limbs, others with eyes that seemed to follow you. In the midst of it all sat Randal, his red hair disheveled, glasses askew, wearing what appeared to be a Japanese school uniform. He looked up from arranging his dolls in a circle, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Y/N! You're here!" he exclaimed, bounding over with an unsettling enthusiasm. "We're going to have so much fun!"
"Yeah, can't wait," you replied, forcing a smile and wondering if it was too late to feign a sudden illness.
Luther hovered nearby, holding a glass of water. "Hydration is essential," he stated, handing it to you. "Drink."
Not wanting to offend the towering figure, you took the glass and sipped. Luther nodded approvingly and disappeared into the kitchen, only to return moments later with another glass. "Drink," he repeated.
Umm... okay..
You downed the water in one go trying not to think about the metallic after taste.
The night had barely begun, and you were already wondering how you had ended up here. Again.
Luther stood by the doorway, holding yet another glass of water in his eerily steady hands. His piercing stare made it impossible to refuse, so you took it with a forced smile and downed it in one go. "Uh, thanks," you muttered, wiping your mouth. It was your third glass of the evening, and at this rate, you feared you might float away before the night was over.
Luther simply nodded, stepping back into the shadows like a sentry awaiting his next cue.
The moment he was gone, Randal clapped his hands together. "Now that hydrationâs out of the way," he said, tone far too enthusiastic for your liking, "I think itâs time you met my children!"
You blinked. "Your what now?"
Randal skipped over to a large, antique-looking cabinet and swung the doors open with a dramatic flourish. Inside sat dozens of dolls, their glossy eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. Some were pristine, dressed in lace and ribbons. Others looked like they had survived a warâor caused one. One particularly scraggly doll had only one eye and what looked like bite marks on its hands.
Randal lifted it gently. "This is Mr. Snuffles. Heâs a bit wary of newcomers, but donât take it personally. Heâs still getting over the whole... incident."
You didnât ask. You just scooted slightly further away.
Before you could even process the growing list of reasons why this sleepover was a terrible idea, Luther reappeared, standing just as stiff as ever. "Dinner is ready."
Randal beamed. "Perfect timing! Letâs feast."
You followed them to the dining room, and upon seeing the spread, immediately regretted it. The table was covered in dishes that defied categorizationâsome looked like they had once been food, but had long since abandoned that identity. A charred roast sat in the center like a burnt offering, accompanied by unidentifiable side dishes that may or may not have still been alive. One bowl in particular emitted a smell so offensive that you instinctively leaned away.
"Iâm not really hungry," you said quickly, hoping to escape whatever culinary nightmare Luther had concocted.
"Nonsense," Luther replied in that monotone voice of his, leaving no room for argument. "But if you insist, more water will suffice."
And so, the evening continued, with you steadily sipping glass after glass of water under Lutherâs unblinking gaze while Randal regaled you with tales of his dollsâ adventures and his latest Neopets achievements.
At one point, he vanished behind the couch and reappeared with a Furby, cradling it like a sacred relic. "This is my spirit animal."
The Furbyâs eyes flickered to life, and in the most cursed voice imaginable, it croaked, "Me love you."
You choked on your water.
"Ah, I forgot it does that." Randal patted the Furbyâs head, unfazed. "Anyway, I challenge you to a game!"
"What kind of game?" you asked warily.
He grinned and pointed to a large, dust-covered machine in the corner. It was an old rhythm gameâthe kind where you had to stomp on the arrows in time with the music. The machine flickered on, bathing the room in neon light as the speakers blared an upbeat techno track.
You groaned. "Randal, no."
"Randal, yes."
He dragged you onto the platform, and the game began. Within seconds, you were in hell. The screen exploded with arrows in every direction, demanding footwork that only the most devoted arcade dwellers could master. Meanwhile, Randal danced beside you effortlessly, barely even looking at the screen as he cackled at your suffering.
"Step up, Y/N! Feel the rhythm!" he cheered.
"I am feeling the rhythm! And itâs kicking my ass!"
Your feet tripped over each other as you missed step after step, and Randal was absolutely thriving off your misery. At some point, Luther entered the room, watching the spectacle in complete silence. After a long pause, he handed you another glass of water.
By the time the game ended (with your defeat, of course), you were ready to collapse. Randal, completely unbothered, flopped onto the couch and patted the seat next to him. "You were terrible, but it was fun."
"Glad I could entertain you," you wheezed, wiping sweat from your forehead.
As night fell, Randal led you to his room, where a sleeping bag was laid out on the floor amidst more dolls and questionable artifacts. He plopped onto his bed, grinning at you with his usual unsettling enthusiasm.
"You know," he mused, "most people donât last a night here. They get... uncomfortable."
You stared at the various porcelain faces surrounding you. "Canât imagine why."
You reluctantly settled into the sleeping bag, praying for a swift and painless end to this ordeal. The night was filled with the sounds of creaking floorboards, whispering dolls (or maybe that was just your imagination), and Randalâs occasional giggles in the dark. At one point, you swore you saw a pair of glowing eyes peering at you from the shadows, only for them to vanish when you blinked.
Morning couldnât come fast enough. The moment the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, you hastily gathered your things, eager to escape this madhouse with your sanity somewhat intact.
"Leaving so soon?" Randal pouted, hanging upside down off his bed, red hair cascading toward the floor.
"Yeah, gotta... walk my fish," you replied, inching toward the door.
Luther appeared once more, pressing yet another glass of water into your hands. "For the road."
With a resigned sigh, you chugged it down, just to appease him.
As you stepped outside, the fresh morning air was a welcome relief. You had survived the night, though barely. One thing was certain: next time your parents suggested a sleepover, youâd feign the plague if necessary. Or maybe yellow fever.
Behind you, the door creaked open slightly, and Randalâs voice floated out. "Come back anytime, Y/N. Mr. Snuffles misses you already."
You quickened your pace, vowing to invest in a good set of locks... and perhaps a therapist.
I COULDNT BE ASKED TO ADD SEBASTIAN !!!! lets just pretend he is his hotdog costume!!!!!!!
Is it oo if u do randal x reader who has a similar personality to him? No rush and you dont have to do it if you dont wanna! :D
You and I
Randal x Reader oneshot!!
tbf i actually kind of liked this one! There is also Sebastian since i haven't written him for a while so hope u enjoy that!!
Randal first saw you crouched near the playground, dragging a stick through a patch of mud with impressive dedication. Most kids were playing talking about more 'trivial' matters, but you? You were sculpting what looked like⊠an angry face with sharp teeth.
âWhatâs that?â Randal asked, appearing beside you out of nowhere like he always did.
You barely glanced at him, but a small smirk tugged at your lips. âA monster. His nameâs Chuck. He eats toes.â
Randal cackled, crouching down beside you. âToes, huh? Nice. Can I add something?â
You shrugged. âGo for it.â
Randal snatched another stick and started adding spiky hair and a pair of wild, mismatched eyes to Chuckâs face. By the time recess ended, the two of you had turned the mud patch into a whole grotesque masterpiece. And just like that, you were friends!
Fast forward a few years, and not much had changed. You and Randal were still inseparable partners in chaos, thriving on mischief and mayhem. Which is why you were currently sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the forest, waiting for him.
âHeâs late,â you muttered, flicking a pinecone across the dirt. It wasnât unusual for Randal to lose track of time, but it was still annoying. You had big plans for todayâthings involving mud, trees, and possibly fire if you could get away with it.
Finally, you heard the familiar sound of mismatched footsteps crunching through the underbrush. âHey, bunny!â Randal called, grinning as he emerged from the shadows.
âAbout time,â you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your jeans. âWhat took you so long?â
Randal shrugged, his grin widening. âLuther made me clean up my dolls before I left. He said if I didnât, heâd âlock me in the bad boys closet.ââ He mimicked Lutherâs deep, monotone voice, then rolled his eyes. âAs if that would stop me.â
You snickered. âBig brother sounds fun.â
âOh, heâs a blast,â Randal said sarcastically, waving a hand. âAnyway, guess who I brought with me?â
Before you could ask, Sebastian stumbled into view, looking as miserable as ever. His costume was rumpled, his hair was a mess, and his expression screamed help me.
âI didnât agree to this,â Sebastian muttered, glaring at Randal.
âYes, you did,â Randal shot back cheerfully. âBy not running fast enough when I grabbed you.â
Sebastian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. âWhy am I here? I have better things to do than.. indulge .. you two ..psychos.â
âBecause weâre fun,â you said, grinning as you leaned against a tree. âAnd because Randal said so.â
Sebastian sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath about âcrazy peopleâ and âneeding a better escape plan.â
After some bickering and a lot of laughter (mostly from you and Randal), the three of you decided to play hide and seek. Randal, of course, was the seeker.
âThirty seconds, then Iâm coming for you!â Randal announced, turning to face a tree and covering his eyes. âOne⊠twoâŠâ
Sebastian immediately began running.. and running?? clearly aiming to get as far away as possible. You, on the other hand, had a better plan.
Spotting a tall tree with thick branches, you grinned and started climbing. The bark was rough under your hands, but you didnât care. You loved heightsâthe higher, the better.
By the time Randal yelled, âReady or not, here I come!â you were perched near the top of the tree, peering down at the forest below. You could see Sebastian skulking around the base of another tree, glancing nervously over his shoulder his breath ragged from the previous running.
âHey, Sebastian!â you called, waving.
He looked up, his jaw dropping. âAre you insane? Get down from there!â
You laughed, swinging your legs. âWhy? Afraid of heights?â
Sebastian scowled. âNo, Iâm afraid of you falling and breaking your neck. Which Iâm not helping you with, by the way.â
âOh, come on,â you said, standing on the branch like a circus performer. âItâs not that high.â
âItâs at least twenty feet!â
âWhatever,â you said, rolling your eyes. âWatch this!â
Before he could protest, you jumped. The air rushed past you in a thrilling blur, and you landed in a crouch a few feet away from Sebastian.
âTa-da!â you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.
Sebastian stared at you, his face pale. âYouâre out of your mind.â
âYep,â you said, grabbing his arm. âNow itâs your turn!â
âWhatânoâhey!â Sebastian yelped as you started dragging him toward the tree.
Ignoring his protests, you climbed the tree again, this time with him in tow. He clung to you like a terrified cat, muttering a string of curses under his breath.
âRelax,â you said, grinning. âIâve got you.â
âThis is not relaxing...â
By the time you reached the top, Sebastian was practically vibrating with anxiety. âI hate this. I hate you. I hate Randal.â
âYou love us,â you said, laughing. âNow look! Isnât the view great?â
Sebastian hesitantly glanced around, ,his expression hardened.
âNo it isn't."
âOuch.â
Down below, Randal was wandering aimlessly, calling out in a sing-song voice. âSebaaaastian⊠Y/N⊠I know youâre around here somewhere!â
You grinned mischievously, leaning down to yell, âUp here, loser!â
Randalâs head snapped up, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. âAwesome! Can I join you?â
Sebastian groaned. âPlease donât.â
Of course, Randal ignored him and started climbing the tree.
As Randal climbed the tree, you shifted your weight on the branch, causing it to sway slightly. Sebastian immediately clutched the trunk like his life depended on it.
âCan you not?â Sebastian hissed, shooting you a panicked glare. âThis thingâs going to snap, and weâre all going to die!â
âDrama queen,â you muttered, waving him off. Then you turned to Randal, who was dangling precariously from a branch below you, grinning up at you like a lunatic.
âNice tree,â Randal said. âPlenty of room for everyone, huh? Kinda cozy.â
âYeah, cozy,â Sebastian muttered sarcastically.
Randal ignored him, pulling himself up to sit beside you. âSo, guess what I found this morning?â
You raised an eyebrow. âWhat?â
Randal reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny doll. Its painted eyes stared blankly, and its hair was matted like it had seen better days. âHer nameâs Matilda. Found her in the dumpster behind school. She told me she was lonely, so I took her home.â
âShe told you?â Sebastian asked flatly, looking at Randal like he had grown a second head.
âYeah,â Randal said casually. âSheâs shy, though. Doesnât talk to just anyone.â
You tilted your head, studying the doll. âI get it. Iâve got one like that. Her nameâs Clementine. Found her in an old attic. She doesnât like sunlight, though. Says it burns her eyes.â
Randalâs grin widened. âSee? You get it. Dolls are way more interesting than people.â
Sebastian groaned, rubbing his temples. âYouâre both insane.â
âThanks,â you and Randal said in unison, clearly taking it as a compliment.
âHey,â Randal said, nudging you. âIf Matilda and Clementine ever meet, do you think theyâd get along?â
âMaybe,â you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. âBut Clementineâs kinda territorial. She doesnât like sharing her shelf.â
Randal nodded, completely serious. âI get that. Matildaâs the same way. Maybe we could set up a playdate and see how it goes.â
Sebastian blinked at the two of you, utterly baffled. âYouâre actually planning a playdate⊠for your dolls?â
âYeah,â you said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
âWhy not?â Randal added, shrugging.
Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head. âYou know what? Never mind. I donât want to know.â
Randal turned to you, his expression mischievous. âSo, do you name all your dolls, or just the special ones?â
âAll of them,â you said, smirking. âEven the ones that donât have heads. Theyâve got personalities, you know.â
âI knew youâd get it,â Randal said, practically beaming.
Sebastian, meanwhile, looked like he was ready to throw himself out of the tree. âThis is my nightmare,â he muttered.
You and Randal ignored him, falling into a deep conversation about doll maintenance. You compared notes on cleaning techniques, how oil made their eyeballs shinier, repair methods, and the best way to keep their clothes from fraying.
âI use a sewing kit,â Randal said, pulling out a needle from his jacket pocket. âGot it from Big Brother's room. Donât tell him, though. He gets all cranky when I âborrowâ his stuff.â
âNoted,â you said with a grin. âI usually just glue things back together, but sewing sounds cool.â
Before Randal could reply, there was a loud crack.
All three of you froze, glancing at the branch beneath you. It groaned ominously, swaying under your combined weight.
âUh⊠guys?â Sebastian said, his voice rising an octave. âThis branch isnâtââ
SNAP!
The branch gave way, and the three of you plummeted to the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs. You hit the dirt with a loud thud, Randal landing on top of you and Sebastian sprawled awkwardly beside you.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Randal burst out laughing, clutching his sides. âThat was awesome! We almost died!!â
Sebastian groaned, rolling onto his back. âI hate you. I hate both of you.â
You laughed, brushing leaves out of your hair. âCome on, it wasnât that bad.â
âNo, because it was terrible,â Sebastian grumbled.
Randal sat up, still grinning. âLetâs do it again!â
Sebastianâs eyes widened in horror. âAbsolutely not!â
You smirked, nudging Randal with your elbow. âHeâs no fun.â
âNone at all,â Randal agreed.
Sebastian groaned, covering his face with his hands. âI just wanna go home..â
Randal's eyes gleamed for a second before turning to you.
"Oh yeah if forgot! Big brother said i had to be home by 7pm, what time is it?"
You quickly pulled out your old pocket watch and struggled to read the time.
"Uhh its 11pm"
Randal blinked, then burst into laughter, leaning back against the tree trunk with a manic grin. "Oops. Guess Iâm grounded again."
You chuckled, shaking your head as you dusted off your clothes. âWhat else is new?â
Sebastian groaned, dragging himself to his feet. âYouâre both insane.
hello! Iâm the person who wrote the Randal x wheelchair user request (IâM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH IT AAHH)! I was maybe wondering if you could do a part 2 or maybe one shot? :3 no pressure at all! You donât have to do it ofc. I hope youâre doing well!
Just a trip!
Hope ya like the oneshot!!! I hope you're doing well too ^_^
The sound of creaking metal and distant echoes made your stomach churn as you rolled your wheelchair along the uneven ground. The air was damp and heavy, carrying a metallic tang that left a strange taste in your mouth. You didnât know why you agreed to thisâor, more accurately, how Randal had convinced you. Again.
âWeâre gonna have so much fun!â Randal chirped, pushing your wheelchair down the narrow corridor of the abandoned factory. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the grimy concrete floor. âThis place is perfect, donât you think? So spooky! And dangerous. I love it.â
You gripped the armrests of your chair tighter, trying to keep your breathing steady. âRandal, I⊠I donât think this is safe.â
He leaned over your shoulder, his wild grin almost brushing your cheek. âSafe? Pfft. Whereâs the fun in that? Youâre with me, so youâve got nothing to worry about!â
That didnât reassure you at all. Randal wasnât exactly known for his careful planning or concern for other peopleâs well-being. Still, youâd never seen him this excited, and you didnât have the heart to tell him no. You never did.
Randal continued to chatter as he pushed you deeper into the building. âDid you know this place used to be a meatpacking plant? Lots of sharp tools and hooks and stuff. I bet they left some behind! Ooh, maybe weâll find something really creepy, like⊠I dunno, a severed hand or a haunted chainsaw!â
You swallowed hard. âWhy⊠why would we want to find that?â
âWhy not?â Randal shot back, giggling like it was the funniest thing heâd ever heard. He stopped abruptly, making your chair jolt. âOh, look at this!â
He darted ahead, leaving you alone for a moment. Your chest tightened as you glanced around the dimly lit space. The flickering light from Randalâs flashlight cast eerie shadows on the cracked walls, making them seem alive. The faint hum of distant machineryâthough the factory had been abandoned for yearsâsent a shiver down your spine.
âUh⊠Randal?â you called out, your voice trembling.
âRelax, bunny! Iâm right here!â His face popped out of the darkness suddenly, and you let out a startled yelp. He doubled over with laughter. âOh, man, you shouldâve seen your face! Priceless!â
You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. âDonât do that!â
He tilted his head, still grinning. âWhy not? Youâre so cute when youâre scared.â He grabbed the handles of your wheelchair again and started pushing you down another hallway. âCâmon, donât chicken out now. Weâre just getting started!â
The two of you eventually reached a massive room filled with rusted machinery. Chains hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly in a nonexistent breeze. Randal parked your wheelchair near a conveyor belt and hopped onto it, balancing precariously on the edge.
âCheck this out!â he said, kicking at a chain to make it rattle. âDoesnât this place just scream âhorror movieâ? Imagine all the things that couldâve happened here. Blood. Screaming. Death. Awesome, right?â
You didnât answer. Your eyes were glued to the dark corners of the room, where the flashlightâs beam couldnât reach. Every creak and groan of the old building made you flinch.
âHey, are you even listening to me?â Randal hopped down and crouched in front of you, his face uncomfortably close to yours. âYouâre not scared, are you?â
You hesitated, then nodded slightly. âA littleâŠâ
His grin widened. âGood! Fear makes everything more exciting. Itâs like⊠seasoning for life. Or maybe dessert. Yeah, fear is dessert.â He stood up and twirled the flashlight like a baton. âBut donât worry. If anything tries to hurt you, Iâll rip it apart. Easy peasy.â
You werenât sure whether that was comforting or terrifying.
The mood shifted abruptly when you heard a loud clang from somewhere above.
You froze. âRandal⊠what was that?â
âProbably a ghost,â he said nonchalantly, tilting his head to listen. âOr a rat. Or a ghost rat! Oh, wouldnât that be cool? I should make a doll of that.â
The sound came again, louder this time. It was followed by the unmistakable groan of metal straining under pressure.
âUh⊠maybe we should leave,â you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Randal waved you off. âNah, itâs probably nothing. Besides, brother would kill me if I came home this early.â
As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fumbled to pull it out and saw Lutherâs name on the screen. Before you could answer, Randal snatched the phone away.
âBrotherrr!â he sang into the phone. âGuess where we are!â
You couldnât hear Lutherâs response, but judging by the way Randal winced, it wasnât pleasant.
âRelax, big brother! Weâre just having a little adventure. You worry too much.â He paused, then laughed. âOkay, okay, fine. Weâll head back soon. Jeez, youâre no fun.â He hung up and handed the phone back to you.
âBig brother is such a buzzkill,â Randal muttered, kicking at a loose bolt on the floor. âBut I guess we should wrap this up. For now.â
You let out a sigh of relief. âThank you.â
âDonât thank me yet,â he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. âWe still have to get out of here alive.â
As Randal wheeled you back toward the exit, the building seemed to come alive around you. The groaning metal grew louder, accompanied by distant thuds and the occasional sound of shattering glass.
âSee? Isnât this fun?â Randal said, laughing as he dodged a falling piece of debris. âItâs like the whole place is trying to kill us! What a rush!â
You couldnât even respond; you were too busy clutching the armrests of your chair, your heart pounding in your chest.
By the time you finally reached the exit, you were shaking. Randal, on the other hand, looked like heâd just had the time of his life.
âThat was awesome!â he said, spinning in a circle. âWe should do this again sometime.â
You stared at him, your face pale. âRandal⊠youâre insane.â
He grinned, leaning down to meet your gaze. âMaybe. But youâre stuck with me anyway, bunny.â
You didnât have the energy to argue.
As the two of you made your way back to the street, Randal started humming a creepy little tune under his breath.
You promise yourself that next time you'll Sebastian handle him.. well more like endure..
Hope ya guys enjoyed this! Also i cba asked to proof read so mind the msitakes pls!! ^_^
Hii! Could you maybe do Randal head canons with a shy!wheelchair user reader? Iâve never seen anyone make anything for wheelchair users so I thought I should maybe ask myself since I use a wheelchair. This is also my first time requesting anything so Iâm a bit nervous, Iâm so sorry đ I love your writing as well!<3
Randal x Shy!wheelchair user reader
Head canons! thanks so much for enjoying my writing and I just could'nt say no! ^_^
Randal is surprisingly accommodating, though in his own peculiar way. Heâll always push your wheelchair before you can even ask, often steering you toward weird, secluded places without explanation.
He loves the idea that you rely on him more than most people. To him, itâs just another way youâre âmeant to be together.â
If youâre shy about asking for help, Randal notices and offers anyway, though sometimes in an unsettlingly overzealous manner, like insisting on feeding you or carrying you when itâs not necessary.
Heâs obsessively protective. If someone so much as glances at you the wrong way, Randal will glare at them until they leaveâor offer to âhandleâ it for you.
Randal doesnât care about accessibility issues; heâll find ways around them. If thereâs no ramp, heâll just carry you and the chair up the stairs, no questions asked.
He tries to âdecorateâ your wheelchair with creepy little charms, stickers, or accessories. âItâs cute,â he says with a grin, though the tiny doll heads he glued on might suggest otherwise.
If youâre shy about meeting new people, Randal is your unintentional shield. His creepy aura tends to scare most people away, leaving you with fewer awkward social interactions.
He loves how soft-spoken you are and says things like, âYour voice is the only one I want to hear anyway!!.â Itâs sweet, but the intensity makes you nervous.
Randal has no patience for anyone who makes you uncomfortable. Heâs made at least one teacher or coworker mysteriously disappear after they inconvenienced you.
Despite his quirks, Randal seems genuinely infatuated with you and insists, âWeâre perfect together.â
Randal is absolutely fascinated by your wheelchair. Not in a rude way, but in a Randal way. Heâll randomly tap the wheels, push you without warning (âHold on, weâre going for a ride!â), or insist on decorating it with unsettling additions, like doll limbs or fake blood splatter. He thinks it gives your chair âcharacter.â
If youâre shy, Randal sees it as âadorably mysterious.â Heâll take your quiet demeanor as a challenge to get a reaction out of you. Whether itâs pulling a dramatic fake injury, telling you some absurdly dark joke, or straight-up wheeling you into a room full of his creepy dolls, he thrives on watching you squirm.
Randal loves the fact that youâre so patient with him. âYouâre so sweet! Almost too sweet. Like⊠maybe I should bite you and find out, huh?â Heâll laugh it off, but you canât tell if heâs joking.
He keeps suggesting âfun gamesâ that involve putting your physical safety at risk. âWheelchair jousting!â heâll declare, wielding a broomstick. You decline every time, but heâs persistent.
Randal insists on carrying spare parts for your wheelchair, even though he has no clue how to use them. âIf your wheel falls off, Iâll just⊠duct tape it back, okay?â Itâs the thought that counts.
He offers to let you sleep in his coffin when youâre tired, completely serious. âItâs super cozy, and Iâll even let you have the pillow. Iâll just⊠sit and watch you.â
Randal loves pushing you into creepy places for his âadventures.â You donât want to go, but his enthusiasm is hard to deny. âCâmon, Y/N! Donât you want to see whatâs behind the door labeled âDO NOT ENTER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCESâ? Spoiler alert: itâs probably something terrifying~â
He views your shyness as a reason to be even more possessive. âYouâre too nice to everyone else. Thatâs my job. Be nice to me only, okay?â Heâs half-joking⊠probably.
Randal has this strange way of treating you like one of his dolls. Heâll fix your hair or drape a creepy blanket over your lap, humming a weird little tune as he does it.
You try to set boundaries, but Randal either âforgetsâ or just ignores them. Personal space? Whatâs that? Heâs always leaning over your chair or popping up behind you like a jump scare.
Mini-Interviews!!
Nyen:
âSheâs quiet. Too quiet. I donât know if itâs the chair or just her personality, but she seems⊠fragile. Like sheâll break if you even look at her wrong. Randal, though? He treats her like sheâs the most precious thing in the world. Itâs weird. Theyâre weird. Whatever. Not my problem.â Doesn't exactly care much for you but he does laugh whenever Randal places somewhere you don't like.
Luther:
âSie ist ruhiger als die meisten. But sheâs nice. Almost too nice. And Randal? Well, heâs obsessed. I donât know if thatâs good for her, but she doesnât seem unhappy yet. She has a strong heart, I think. Sheâll need it to deal with him.â Wow! Humans like you are so rare! He'd probably like you considering how shy you are , not an ounce of selfishness in you!
Randal:
âSheâs everything Iâve ever wanted. Perfect. I love how sheâs so shy and sweet and just mine!. Iâll take care of her forever, no matter what. Itâs fate, donât you think? Even her wheelchair itâs like she was made to be with me. Iâll protect herâ He's a bit possessive and well..! Yeah! Goodluck because he isn't letting go of you..
Sebastian:
âI donât get her. Sheâs nice ,maybe too nice? And shy? Not my type, honestly. But Randal is smitten, so good for him, I guess. Keeps him off my back. Still... I donât know how she deals with him. I sure couldnât.â Eternally grateful for how much of Randal's time you consume, it's more time for him to figure out how to escape!
Nyon:
âSheâs um, nice. Quiet. I think sheâs ... nervous?,, by Randal sometimes, but she doesnât say it. I hope she's okay. She seems okay. I donât know her well, though. Maybe she needs help? but I'm not sure how to give it..â You don't really cross paths that often, when you do its usually him bringing you back from Randal's closet or wherever he left you.
-Randal x pushover !reader
thought I'd make a fanfic based on the head cannons I made!
You werenât sure how you got here. Well, you knew howâRandal had asked you over for dinner with his trademark unsettlingly sweet smile, and as always, you couldnât say no. But why you agreed to let him cook was another matter entirely.
The faint smell of mushrooms and something earthy wafted through the kitchen as you nervously perched on a rickety stool. Randal, wearing an apron that read Master Chef in bold black letters, hummed to himself. His movements were graceful but erratic, like he was trying to follow a recipe heâd made up on the spot.
You wonder how Luther allowed this.
âThis is going to be amazing,â he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. His eyes sparkled with an innocent excitement that, as usual, felt just a little... off.
âYeah, Iâm sure it will be,â you said weakly. It wasnât that you didnât trust him⊠wait, no, that was exactly it. The last time he tried to bake cookies, heâd accidentally used salt instead of sugar. They were inedible, but youâd still eaten three just to avoid hurting his feelings.
You had a sinking feeling this would be another one of those nights.
âHere we go,â Randal said, grinning as he ladled a steaming, murky liquid into a chipped bowl. A few chunks of mushroom floated ominously to the surface, their dark caps shiny and unfamiliar. âShiitake soup. Saw it in one of those anime we watched! Looks good, right?â
You stared at the bowl. The smell was strongâearthy, bitter, and almost chemical. Something deep inside you whispered that this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
But then Randal leaned forward, his face close to yours. His smile was warm but his eyes gleamed in a way that made your stomach flip. âYouâll eat it, right? For me?â
You gulped. âOf course,â you said, forcing a smile.
He beamed and handed you a spoon. With shaking hands, you scooped up a piece of mushroom, letting the broth drip off before hesitantly placing it in your mouth.
The taste was⊠indescribable. Bitter, metallic, and vaguely reminiscent of dirt. You gagged almost immediately, your bodyâs natural defenses screaming at you to spit it out. But Randal was watching, his head tilted and an expectant look on his face.
âMmm,â you managed, swallowing hard. Your throat burned as it went down, and your stomach churned in protest.
âYou like it?â Randal asked, his grin widening.
âItâs⊠yummy..â you said diplomatically, reaching for your glass of water. You downed it in one go, hoping to wash away the taste.
âAwesome! Here, have more,â he said, plopping another ladleful into your bowl.
You couldnât say no. You never could.
By the time you finished the second bowl, youâd gagged at least fifteen times, each one more dramatic than the last. Your face was pale, and sweat beaded on your forehead. Randal either didnât notice or pretended not to. He was too busy watching you with an adoring gaze that made your skin crawl and your heart twist with guilt.
âYouâre so perfect,â he murmured, leaning closer. âI knew youâd love it. Youâre mine forever, you know? No take-backs.â
âHaha, yeah,â you said weakly, forcing another smile. Your vision blurred for a moment, and your stomach gave a violent lurch. âExcuse me for a second,â you mumbled, standing up on wobbly legs.
âSure. Donât be gone too long, though,â Randal said, his tone light but his eyes piercing.
You barely made it to the bathroom before you were doubled over, heaving into the toilet. Your body rejected every last trace of the soup with a vengeance. When you finally straightened up, your head spinning and your stomach empty, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.
âWhy do I do this to myself?â you muttered.
A soft knock at the door made you jump. âYou okay in there?â Randalâs voice called, tinged with genuine concern.
âYeah, fine!â you called back, forcing cheer into your voice. âJust⊠needed a moment.â
When you returned to the kitchen, Randal was cleaning up , well attempting to. He looked up as you walked in and smiled that same unsettlingly smile.
âFeeling better?â he asked.
âMuch better,â you lied.
He held out a hand, pulling you into a hug that was both comforting and suffocating. âGood. Youâre mine, you know? Iâll always take care of you.â
You patted his back awkwardly, your heart pounding. âThanks, Randal.â
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if youâd ever learn to say no.
------
The next morning, you woke up feeling like death warmed over. Your head throbbed, your stomach churned, and your limbs felt as heavy as lead. You groaned, rolling onto your side, and glanced at your phone. There was a message from Randal, cheerful as ever:
"Canât wait to hang out today! Meet at the old playground at noon? Donât be late~"
You stared at the screen, your head pounding with every heartbeat. You felt like you were on the verge of throwing up again, but the thought of canceling on Randal filled you with dread. You couldnât say no to him. Not after last night. Not ever, it seemed.
By the time you arrived at the playground, bundled in your warmest coat and scarf to stave off the lingering chills, Randal was already there. He waved enthusiastically, his grin as wide and unnervingly sweet as ever.
âYou made it!â he said, bounding over to you. âI was worried youâd flake. Youâre not looking so great⊠but thatâs okay. Iâll make sure you feel better.â
âThanks,â you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like you were sleepwalking, your mind foggy and your body weak.
Randal looped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both started walking. âWeâll have so much fun today,â he said, his tone almost giddy. âIâve got the whole day planned.â
You forced a smile, your stomach twisting in knots. Deep down, you knew today was going to be as exhausting as it was strange. But you didnât have the energy to argueâand even if you did, you doubted it would change anything.
P.S! im so sorry for not writing for so long you guys!!! i was lacking the motivation but i will try uploading more regularly now! also not proof read!
I NEED CAT-NAP PART 2 đđđđđđđđME AND OOMFS R UR BIGGEST FANS
Rat Runners and Fury
How could i say no to my biggest fans! ^_^ this also gave me a good reason to write lmao
The day started innocently enough. The Ivory household was relatively quiet for once. Nyen wasnât stomping around, Nyon was âborrowingâ more magazines from who-knows-where, Randal and Sebastian had gone and some odd adventure something about cody at the gas station Master Luther was resting and the ratmen were⊠well, alive and causing chaos somewhere as usual. Perfect time for a little covert operation: feeding the ratmen. Again.
You crouched low in the pantry, carefully packing up a small stash of scrapsâhalf a loaf of bread, some almost-cheese, and a suspiciously soft apple. âAlright, guys,â you whispered, peeking into the crack in the wall. âYou know the drill.â
Robert poked his head out, his nose twitching nervously. âYou sure about this?â he whispered back. âLast time, Nyen nearly turned me into a throw rug.â
âRelax,â you said, stuffing the food into a small cloth bag. âIâll handle Nyen if he shows up. Now, hurry up before heââ
âHEY!â
Too late.
Nyenâs voice roared from somewhere down the hall, and the ground shook slightly as his heavy boots stomped closer. The ratman froze, his eyes mildly wide.
âRun!â you hissed, tossing the bag into Robertâs thands.
The ratman bolted, scurrying through the cracks and crevices of the house with impressive speed. You spun around just in time to see Nyen appear in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury.
âTRAITOR!â he bellowed, pointing an accusatory claw at you. âYouâre feeding them again?! You sneaky littleâ!â
âWhat?â you said, feigning innocence. âThey looked hungry.â
âTheyâre always hungry!â Nyen snapped. âAnd youâre making it worse! Where are they?â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â you said, shrugging. âMaybe you should⊠cool off a little?â
Wrong answer. Nyenâs tail lashed like an angry whip as he stormed past you, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. âI can smell them,â he growled. âWhereâd they go?â
You followed him, keeping a safe distance as he stomped through the house. Meanwhile, you casually dropped little clues for the ratmen to followâa tap on the wall here, a soft whistle there. You couldnât see them, but you knew theyâd pick up on the signals.
Nyen suddenly stopped, his ears twitching. âThere!â he snarled, lunging toward a small crack near the baseboard.
âUm-! not so fast!â you said, stepping in his way. âMaybe you should think this through. Youâre scaring the rats.â
âGood!â Nyen barked, shoving past you. âThey deserve it!â
In the next room, you heard the faint scuffle of feet. Robert was close to his escape route. You quickened your pace, throwing Nyen off just enough to give them more time.
âOver there! They went that way!â you shouted, pointing in the opposite direction.
Nyen paused, glaring at you suspiciously. âWhy are you helping me all of a sudden?â
âMaybe Iâm tired of stale bread,â you said with a smirk.
He didnât buy it for a second. With a guttural growl, he turned back toward the crack in the wall, but it was too late. The ratmen had already slipped through their escape hole and disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the house.
âNO!â Nyen roared, slamming his fist against the wall. âGoddamn rodents! Traitors! EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE IS A TRAITOR!â
You couldnât help but laugh. âBetter luck next time, big guy.â
Nyen turned on you, his face a mask of pure rage. âYou think this is funny?! You think you can just waltz around here undermining me?!â He stepped closer, his chest heaving. âYouâre worse than the rats. Worse!â
âAw, you say the sweetest things,â you said, grinning.
That was the final straw. Nyen snarled, grabbed your shoulder, and shoved you back. You stumbled but quickly recovered, twisting to throw off his grip with a dramatic, exaggerated spin. The move sent you both off balance for a secondâcomically enough to make even Nyen pause in confusion.
âWhat the fuck was that?!â he bellowed, his tail swishing furiously. âYouâre messing with me now! ON PURPOSE?!â
âSure am,â you said with a grin. âAnd Iâm winning!â
Nyen let out a guttural scream of frustration, storming off down the hall while shouting a barrage of curses that grew increasingly incoherent. You caught words like âungrateful,â âgoddamn meddler,â and something that sounded suspiciously like a threat to ship you to Siberia.
You watched him go, trying not to laugh too loudly. âBetter luck next time,â you muttered to yourself.
âYou⊠stop,â came a thickly accented voice from behind you.
You turned to see Nyon standing there, holding a half-eaten pickle and looking unusually serious. His eyesânormally glassy and disinterestedâwere fixed on you with surprising intensity.
âStop?â you asked, raising an eyebrow. âStop what?â
âAnnoying Nyen,â Nyon said slowly, his Russian accent thicker than usual. He gestured vaguely with the pickle. âNot⊠good. He⊠uh⊠very mad. Not safe.â
âWhatâs he gonna do? Growl at me some more?â you said, brushing it off.
Nyon shook his head, his expression unreadable. âNo. He doâŠâ He paused, struggling to find the words. âHe do⊠bad. You stop.â
âWhat kind of bad?â you asked, narrowing your eyes.
Nyon opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of something crashing in the distance cut him off. He glanced over his shoulder, his usually relaxed demeanor slipping into something closer to⊠fear?
âYou stop,â he repeated firmly, stepping closer. âNot joke. Big bad.â
Before you could press him further, he turned and shuffled away, muttering something in Russian under his breath.
You stood there, frowning, your mind racing. What did he mean by âbig badâ? And why did he look so worried? Sure you pissed Nyen her and there but he wouldn't actually hurt you.. right?
Maybe this game with Nyen wasnât as harmless as you thoughtâŠ
Hey guys this is like a short note but I'm super super sorry for not being active! I've had a lot of exams and my phone recently broke TwT . Luckily i can still use my laptop so ill make sure to start posting again ^o^
Can you do yandere reader x Randal headcanons (like reader is a yandere for Randal)
Yandere!Reader x Randal
There was also another request of this!! (P.s not proof read)
You and Randal met after during one of your 'hobbies' and he was just... lurking. He flashed a grin that was somewhere between âIâve just buried a bodyâ and âyouâre next.â You knew right then he was the one.
Since then, youâre basically glued to his side, watching horror movies you donât understand, collecting dolls, and convincing yourself that no one in the world âgets himâ like you do.
Youâre laser-focused on every detail about himâwhat he likes, what he dislikes, and what obscure names he gives his dolls (like "Princess Creeparella" and "Sir Yanksalot"). Youâre fully invested in his unhinged little world.
So when some random bully at school insulted his face? Oh, that kidâs days were numbered. You âhandled itâ swiftly, not even feeling bad about it, and youâd do it again without a second thought.
Randal thinks itâs hilarious how intense you are about him. To him, youâre like his personal fan club, and heâs living his best manga-style life with his âdevoted stalker.â
But every time he skips school or disappears for days, youâre losing sleep and concocting wild scenarios about his whereabouts. When he finally comes back, youâre like, âHow dare you make me worry like that?â
You keep showing up with âgiftsâ for him, from a rusty spoon to a doll missing its eyes. He grins like a kid at Christmas every time, probably just to encourage your âpassion.â
His favorite doll? Yeah, you see it as the biggest competition. Every time he fusses over it, you glare daggers at it. Randalâs amused by your jealousy toward a doll.
Youâre convinced fate brought you together, which you dramatically whisper to yourself at 2 a.m., vowing to protect himâeven if itâs from the "threat" of his dolls.
Your rivalry with Luther is real. Any time heâs around, you give him a death stare, mentally reminding him that Randal is yours.
The second he gets frustrated, youâre offering to âtake care of it.â He finds it adorable and terrifying.
Once, he teased you about his doll being his âonly true friend,â and you nearly lost it. He knows youâd break that dollâs legs if you could get away with it.
You lurk around, âprotectingâ him even when heâs just watching TV. He barely notices anymore, but when he does, he acts super flattered by his own âpersonal bodyguard.â
Youâve adopted all his weird little quirksâhis creepy laugh, his obsession with horror flicks, that way he likes to sneak up on people. Youâre in it for the full experience.
The fact that Randal hates Cody, the guy from the convenience store? Say less. Youâre officially boycotting that place too. Loyalty.
When youâre alone, you fantasize about the two of you having a future together, even if itâs something only youâre invested in. Randalâs mildly disturbed when he overhears your ideas.
Luther often throws you concerned looks, but you just smile sweetly with a glint in your eye that even he finds unsettling.
Youâre always hyping Randal up, no matter how weird heâs acting. To you, every grin he makes is another masterpiece.
The whole âbully incidentâ? Youâre fully convinced that protecting Randal is your lifeâs purpose. Youâd deal with anyone who so much as looked at him wrong.
Youâre shockingly good at guessing his weird whims, like when he wanted pickle-flavored jellybeans, which you already had wrapped up with a bow.
Youâve been caught staring at his coffin with a weird look in your eye, muttering about how âromanticâ it would be to join him. He chuckles, not realizing youâre dead serious.
When Randal leaves for ten minutes, youâre already concocting a grand adventure he must be on. The moment heâs back, you act like heâs returned from war.
Youâve made an entire scrapbook of âRandal Moments.â He thinks itâs hilarious seeing himself from every angle.
One day, you threw a whole candlelit dinner for him and all his dolls. He walked in, blinked, and went, âWell, arenât you devoted.â You beamed, blissfully ignoring that every doll looked traumatized.
Every so often, you bring up âdecorating his coffin,â which he laughs off, but heâs probably slightly convinced.
When he casually mentions hating swimming, you immediately declare youâll never go near water again. He looks at you like, âAlright, weirdo.â
You once hid under his bed to âsurpriseâ him, but he found you instantly. Now, every time youâre mysteriously missing, he just checks under his bed with an eyeroll.
Anytime he mentions an old friend, you grill him for details like itâs a police interrogation.
Youâre known for dramatically reading mangas out loud just to bond with him. Randal interrupts with random commentary, but youâre undeterred.
Randal introduced you to Neopets, and now youâre both raising a digital pet army. Youâre actually taking it way too seriously.
Every time he pulls a creepy face or weird pose, youâre ready with a heartfelt âWow!â He insists he doesnât need an audience, but he keeps doing it whenever youâre around.
Referring to his dolls as your âfuture in-lawsâ was possibly your weirdest move yet. He choked on his drink when he heard, but he didnât deny it.
You made a doll version of yourself, handing it to him with a serious, âJust in case you miss me.â He keeps it in the back of his doll collection where the others canât see it.
You call his creepy grin his âwinning smileâ and refer to his âstrange hobbyâ as âcreative expression.â Randal pretends to roll his eyes, but you know he loves it.
Any time he âvanishes,â you know exactly where heâs hiding. Heâs both impressed and annoyed that his spooky pranks donât work on you.
You redecorated his room with âromantic touchesââheart stickers and ribbons. He laughed for ten minutes straight but kept a single heart sticker âfor the aesthetic.â
The way he goes full creepy mode? Youâre watching with literal heart-eyes, thinking, âHeâs amazingâŠâ He eats up the attention, having a fan who finds him charming instead of horrifying.
Randal once found a letter from you listing all the reasons you admire him. He laughed until he cried but was secretly touched (and mildly obsessed)
MINI INTERVIEWS!!
Randal:
"Oh, [Y/N] is⊠perfect! Just like a manga character come to life, honestly. They're obsessed, loyal, and maybe a little terrifying, but isnât that what makes it thrilling? Itâs like every moment with them is part of a dark, twisted love story, where theyâd do anything for me. Like this one time, they brought me a âpresentââa tooth from some guy who looked at me funny. Itâs like Iâm living my own gothic romance, you know? And [Y/N] is my⊠well, let's say very devoted protagonist." He's totally into it. He's living in his favourite manga, and you're starring the devoted stalker!!
Sebastian:
"[Y/N] is⊠ah, well, itâs hard to put into words, really. Theyâre⊠theyâre very focused on Randal, which is fine, I guess? But, well, every time I try to talk to them, they just stare at me like theyâre about to eat me alive or something. And Iâm pretty sure they hate me. I mean, whenever I walk into the room, they look at me like Iâm interrupting something importantâand I get it, Iâm just Randalâs butler or whatever, but⊠yeesh, itâs intense. One time, I tried to ask Randal for food, and they glared at me so hard I forgot what I was saying. Iâm, uh, just trying to stay out of their way at this point." Pretty scared of you and stays out of your way every single time you're around. He doesnât need anymore problems!!.
Luther:
"[Y/N]? Ach, yes⊠a rather obsessive person, ja. But they are at least efficient at keeping Randal occupied, even if they do take their dedication to⊠extreme levels. Itâs like theyâre bound to him with some kind of⊠unsettling devotion. Sometimes I think they forget thereâs a world outside of Randal, yes? Not my kind of⊠loyalty, but to each their own. So long as they are no burden to me, I tolerate it. Though, if they keep this up, we might need to have a serious discussion, ja?" If you stay out of his way he's mostly okay with you, however he does see you as partially cynical any time you refuse his hospitality and only focus on Randal!
Nyen:
"[Y/N]? Pfah! Some weak human, clinging to Randalâs shadow, afraid to face anything real! If they want his attention, then fine, but one day⊠one day, I show them true strength. They think following Randal around makes them something special? Hah! When time is right, I'll put them in their place." Would love to fight you any chance he got. Pretty impressed with how deep you're into this but don't take this as him liking you! You're his rival and don't even know it! However who's to say you won't take on his challenge ?
Nyon:
"[Y/N]? Oh, eh⊠big⊠eh, big star-eyes, always looking at Randal. Very, very scary face, always⊠close by him, always too close! I think they not like me much, da, always with the look like I⊠interrupt? They want Randal all to self. So, Nyon stay away, yes? Much trouble, they bring⊠always too loud, too much drama! I hide, not get in trouble, yes? Safe for me." Avoids you like the plague, definitely know the fact you hate him and he tries to keep away at all time.
Can I ask more about Elise!Reader? (because I like this so much). Elise!Reader was drawing on the sofa in the living room with Randal while he was playing a game (there was also Sebastian but he wasn't playing), Randal kept losing and Elise!Reader frankly said he was bad at playing game. It looked like Mori playing darts with a scalpel and not getting a single hit
Elise!Reader x Randal
Part 2 as requested!!
[Y/N] was sprawled on the massive sofa in the living room, drawing lazily in her sketchbook. The scratch of her pencil filled the room, accompanied by Randalâs frustrated groans as he sat on the floor nearby, furiously mashing the buttons of his game controller. His character on the screen kept dying in increasingly ridiculous ways, and the sound of defeat after defeat was starting to become the background music of the evening.
Sebastian, awkwardly perched on the floor off to the side, he watched the chaos unfold with an expression that screamed, please let me leave.
"I don't get it! Why do I keep dying?!" Randal whined, flailing dramatically, his limbs splayed out on the floor like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
Without looking up from her sketchbook, [Y/N] said casually, "Maybe because youâre terrible at it."
Randal turned his head toward her, his face twisted in mock betrayal. "Thatâs... thatâs rude, [Y/N]. Iâm trying my best." Dramatically placing his hand over his chest.
She shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she added another detail to her drawing. "Your best isnât enough, clearly."
Randal sat up, crossing his legs and hugging the game controller to his chest. "You donât understand. This gameâs impossible. Itâs likeâlike trying to win a staring contest with a doll. They never blink!"
[Y/N] paused, pencil hovering over the paper as she shot him a quizzical look. "Thatâs... a weird comparison, even for you."
Randal grinned, clearly proud of himself. "Itâs a great comparison! You know, âcause Iâve got all those dolls andâ"
"Okay, thatâs enough of that," she interrupted quickly, cutting him off before he could start talking about his dolls again. She flipped a page in her sketchbook and kept drawing, determined not to get sucked into another one of his weird monologues.
Sebastian, who had been trying to escape before randal forced him to join in, cleared his throat nervously, obviously sensing the conversation was heading into strange territory. "Actually, I thinkâ"
"Sebastian!" Randal suddenly twisted around, pointing the game controller at him as if it were a weapon. "You! You should play! Maybe youâll break the curse."
Sebastian blinked, visibly uncomfortable. "Uh, Iâm not really intoâ"
"Thatâs a terrible attitude!" Randal cut him off, standing up and waving the controller in the air like he was holding the answer to all of lifeâs problems. "Come on, live a little! Or... uh, play a little. Same thing."
[Y/N] snorted, flipping another page in her sketchbook. "You think getting Sebastian to play will somehow make you less bad at this?"
"Exactly!" Randal nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement. "If we all play together, itâll... I donât know, balance out the bad luck or something."
Sebastian looked like he was trying to melt into the floor, his shoulders tense. "Iâd really rather just watch."
"Nope, no can do!" Randal marched over and thrust the controller into Sebastianâs lap, his grin uncomfortably wide. "Youâre playing. I need all the help I can get!"
Sebastian awkwardly picked up the controller, clearly unsure of what to do with it. "I, uhâ"
"Let me guess," [Y/N] interjected, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Youâre about to lose again, Randal, and youâre dragging poor Sebastian down with you."
Randal shot her a mock glare. "Not if we work as a team! With Sebastianâs reluctant help, we mightâ"
He didnât even get to finish the sentence. His character on the screen died, yet again, in spectacular fashion. The screen flashed red, announcing his failure for what mustâve been the hundredth time that evening.
"I hate this game!" Randal screeched, tossing his hands up in the air in pure frustration. He dramatically collapsed back onto the floor, groaning like heâd just lost a battle against the universe itself. "Itâs rigged! I swear itâs rigged!"
[Y/N] couldnât help but laugh, shaking her head as she set down her sketchbook. "Maybe youâre just bad at it."
"Iâm not bad at it!" Randal protested, flailing a bit as he lay on the ground. "Itâs just... unfair! The game doesnât like me."
Sebastian, still holding the controller awkwardly in his lap, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word outâ
"Sebastian!" Randal sprang up again, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Youâve cursed me! Your negativity is cursing my gaming skills!"
Sebastian blinked, completely thrown off. "I didnât do anythingâ"
"Itâs true!" Randal insisted, his voice growing more dramatic by the second. "The moment you said you didnât want to play, my luck took a nosedive! You have to play now. Itâs the only way to break the curse!"
[Y/N] rolled her eyes, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "Or maybe you just need to get better at the game."
"Iâm already good at it!" Randal whined, stomping over to where she sat and dramatically collapsing onto the couch beside her. "Why are you both ganging up on me?"
"Weâre not," [Y/N] said with a teasing smile. "Itâs just fun to watch you fail."
Randal gasped, clutching his chest like heâd been mortally wounded. "You wound me, [Y/N]. Right here. In my heart."
Sebastian cleared his throat again, trying to edge out of the situation. "I really shouldâ"
"Sebastian!" Randal interrupted, again, dramatically flopping over the back of the couch to stare at him upside-down. "Donât you dare leave. Youâre part of this now."
Sebastian sighed, slumping further into his chair. Clearly, he wasnât escaping anytime soon.
-------
Hours had passed and Randal was still looking optimisticly at the TV screen as if it would change the fact he's lost for the 383848th time.
âCâmon, câmonâŠâ Randal muttered, furiously mashing buttons as if his life depended on it. Spoiler: it didnât. âWhy is this level still so unfair?!â
[Y/N] glanced up from her drawing, watching Randalâs character fall into yet another trap and explode into a puff of pixels. She couldnât help herself. âYou know⊠youâre still pretty bad at this.
[Y/N] thought for a moment flipping her pencil between her fingers. âDo you want me to play? Maybe I can show you how itâs done.â
Randal shot up into a sitting position, pointing a finger at her. âNo. No way. If I give you the controller, then whatâs left for me? My pride? My dignity? No! This is my battle.â
But despite his protests, the controller was still slipping out of his hands as [Y/N] leaned over and casually took it. âOkay, Mr. Drama. Watch and learn.â
Randalâs mouth hung open as she easily navigated the game, breezing past traps and obstacles that had taken him dozens of tries to get through. She made it look effortless, like sheâd been playing the game her whole life.
âNo⊠no way,â Randal mumbled, sinking lower and lower into his spot on the floor as [Y/N] cleared yet another level without breaking a sweat. âThis canât be happening. This is⊠this is witchcraft. Not even on my level...â
[Y/N] shrugged. âMaybe youâre just bad at it.â
Randal pressed his palms to his face, groaning. âIs this what failure feels like? Iâve been defeated by my own creation. This is the worst day of my life.â
Before [Y/N] could respond, they both noticed Sebastian, who had been awkwardly lingering in the background the entire time, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. He had been inching his way toward the door, hoping no one would notice his escape attempt.
âSebastian!â Randal suddenly called, flailing his arms dramatically. âDid you see this? She beat the game in, like, five minutes. Five! Minutes!â
Sebastian froze, his escape plan foiled. âUh⊠yeah. I saw. Incredible. TrulyâŠâ He trailed off, clearly searching for any excuse to leave.
âRight?â Randal continued, completely oblivious to Sebastianâs discomfort. âI donât know what happened. Maybe Iâm cursed. Which could be kinda cool fufu~"
âI donât know about cursed,â [Y/N] said with a smirk, âbut you definitely have no gaming skills.â
Randal fell backwards onto the floor again, staring up at the ceiling like his entire life had been ruined. âThis is it. This is how it all ends. Defeated in my own house, by my own creation, in front of my⊠pet.â
Sebastian took the opportunity to awkwardly edge toward the hallway again. âI, um⊠have some things I need to take care of. Really important⊠things.â
Before he could slip away, Randal shot back up. âWait! Sebastian, you canât leave me like this. Not in my time of crisis!â
Sebastian let out a sigh, glancing over his shoulder. âYouâll survive, Iâm sure. You always do.â
With that, he made a hasty exit, leaving Randal to sulk dramatically in the middle of the living room floor.
[Y/N] tossed the controller onto the couch and resumed her sketching, grinning to herself. âMaybe next time, Randal.â
Randal sighed deeply, rolling onto his stomach. âI think I need to lie in my coffin for a while. This betrayal has done irreparable damage to my soul.â
[Y/N] didnât even bother looking up from her sketch. âYou do that.â
As Randal moped, facedown on the floor, [Y/N] savoured the taste of defeat, a good passive aggressive revenge .
Hello can I make a request? Did you watch the anime Bungo Stray Dogs because I want to request Randal with Reader like Elise. She was "created" by Randal and in the episode when Sebastian first appeared, Randal spent so much time with Sebastian that Elise!Reader was upset because he didn't attend the tea party the two usually held.
Spilled Tea
Elise! Reader x Randal
[Y/N] was furious.
Not the "I'm-going-to-yell-until-my-voice-goes-hoarse" kind of furiousâno, it was the quiet, simmering kind that settled deep in her gut, like hot coals waiting for someone to poke at them. She paced the length of the hallway, arms crossed, glaring at the pristine white walls of Lutherâs house as if they were the source of all her problems.
Why was she mad?
Because Randalâher dear, ridiculous creatorâhad once again forgotten their tea party.
It wasnât like it was some casual thing they did. No, this was tradition. Every week, at the same time, they would gather in the little tea room, surrounded by dainty china and enough sugary snacks to make even Luther cringe. And what had Randal done? Ditched her. For Sebastian.
Ugh. Sebastian.
The new petâawkward and always a little too stiffâhad somehow weaseled his way into Randalâs good graces, and now Randal was all about Sebastian, he wasnt even that good of a birthday gift!. They spent hours together, playing games, talking about who-knows-what, while [Y/N] was left to brew tea alone.
She kicked at the edge of a rug as she stormed down the hall. The sound of her foot smacking the floor echoed, and she half-wondered if anyone was going to come check on her. Probably not. No one ever did.
"Theyâre all idiots," she muttered, tugging at the ends of her hair in frustration. "Every last one of them."
Just as she was about to storm back into the tea room and throw a cup for good measure, she ran smack into a figure.
Thud.
"Ow!" she yelped, stumbling back.
Nyon stood there, looking bewildered, his large always shocked eyes blinking in confusion. His hatânever removedâtilted a bit to one side as he scratched the back of his head, his fingers moving in a nervous rhythm behind him.
"S-sorry," Nyon muttered, his English broken as usual. "Didnât see."
"Of course you didnât," [Y/N] grumbled, rubbing her arm where sheâd collided with him. "Nobody does."
"Why... angry?" Nyon asked, tilting his head, trying to figure her out.
"Iâm not angry," she snapped automatically, then sighed when she saw his confused look. "Okay, fine. Iâm mad. Randal forgot about me again."
Nyonâs expression didnât change much, but he did take a step back, giving her some space. "Randal... distracted. With... Sebastian."
"Tell me something I donât know," [Y/N] muttered. She slumped against the wall, crossing her arms tighter around her chest. "He never misses our tea parties. Until now."
Nyon shuffled his feet, clearly not knowing what to say. He wasnât exactly known for being talkative or helpful in emotional crises. "You still... important," he mumbled.
"Yeah, well, that doesnât help much," she sighed, feeling the irritation bubbling inside her again. "I feel like Iâm just a side note to him now."
Just then, a voice echoed from down the hall.
"Youâre still sulking, huh?"
It was Nyen.
He strolled in, smirking as he leaned against the wall. He was always ready to poke fun at her misfortunes. His arms were crossed, and his tone dripped with sarcasm. "Whatâs the matter? Canât keep your 'CrEaToRs' attention?"
[Y/N] shot him a glare. "Shut up, Nyen."
"Oh, come on," he said, feigning sympathy. "Did you really think heâd stick around when he has a shiny new toy? How naive can you be?"
She rolled her eyes. "This isnât just about being jealous, you know. Itâs about feelingâ"
"Emotional," Nyen cut in, mocking her tone. "Yeah, yeah. Next time, just grab Randal by the collar and drag him to tea. No oneâs stopping you."
"Thanks for the advice, really helpful," [Y/N] retorted, but a small part of her appreciated his brazen honesty.
Before she could retort, Randal appeared at the end of the hallway, his usual cheerful demeanor shining through. "Y/N?"
He stood there looking a bit sheepish, as if he had just realized something was off. Sebastian hovered behind him, awkward and unsure, like he was trying to blend into the wallpaper.
"Randal," [Y/N] said, her voice tight with irritation. "Where have you been?"
Randal blinked, clearly confused. "Iâve been with Sebastian," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why?"
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Because we were supposed to have our tea party! Remember? The one we have every week?"
"Oh!" Randalâs eyes lit up in recognition. "Right! Our tea party! I forgot!"
"Of course you did," [Y/N] groaned, fighting the urge to scream. "You know, for someone whoâs supposed to be my creator, you really suck at remembering plans."
Randal frowned, a hint of guilt creeping onto his face. "Iâm sorry! I didnât mean to forget fufu~"
"Ugh," she sighed, her irritation softening just a bit as she looked at Randalâs crestfallen expression. "Just... letâs have our tea party now, okay? I need some snacks and a distraction from all this."
"Yes! Letâs go!" Randal said, brightening up immediately.
As they started walking towards the tea room, Randal practically skipped to his chair, plopping down with a bright grin. Sebastian, however, hung back, hovering near the door.
"Uh, is it okay if I...?" he started, his voice trailing off as he glanced between Randal and [Y/N].
"Of course, youâre invited, Sebastian!" Randal chirped, motioning for him to join.
Sebastian hesitated, taking a cautious step forward. "I donât want to interrupt your... thing."
"You're already interrupting it," [Y/N] said, rolling her eyes. "Just sit down."
He slowly approached the table, and as he sat, he looked like heâd just been sentenced to death. "Uh, thanks?"
"You can pour the tea," Randal said, practically bouncing in his seat.
Sebastian looked like he was about to protest but caught [Y/N]âs pointed look and reluctantly picked up the teapot. As he poured, he managed to spill a bit on the tablecloth, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
"Smooth move, Sebastian," [Y/N] called, barely holding back her laughter.
"Uh, Iâm sorry?? .Iâ" he stammered, only to be interrupted by Randal.
"Donât worry, youâll get the hang of it!" Randal said, waving his hands dramatically. "Just make sure to keep it on the table this time!"
Sebastian sighed, trying to regain his composure. "I was trying toâ"
"Just be careful, okay?" [Y/N] interrupted, smirking. "Last thing we need is you drowning in tea."
"Yeah, that would beâ" Sebastian started, but once again, Randal cut in.
"Time for the ceremony! Everyone stand up!" Randal declared, his eyes wide with excitement.
Sebastian looked around, clearly perplexed. "Wait, what ceremony?"
"You never mentioned that," he said, trying to make sense of the situation.
"You shouldâve asked before coming," [Y/N] said, rolling her eyes, though she couldnât help but laugh. "It involves Randal being extra and making everyone uncomfortable."
"Yes!" Randal declared, grinning like a fool. "Everyone stand up!"
Sebastian stood awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do. "Um... am I supposed to do something?"
"You just stand there and look pretty," [Y/N] said, nudging him with a playful grin.
"Thatâs really not my strong suit," Sebastian muttered.
As Randal began his ridiculous "ceremony," pouring tea into the cups with exaggerated flourishes, [Y/N] couldnât help but feel a warmth spreading through her. Despite the frustration earlier, watching Randal be his usual weird self made her heart lighten. Even Sebastian's awkwardness started to feel like a welcome change.
Wait. No don't feel that way. Randal is your sole purpose!
As the laughter flowed, Randal suddenly paused, looking serious. "And now, we all make a toast! To tea, friends, and not forgetting our traditions!"
"To tea!" [Y/N] echoed, raising her cup with a smile.
"Toâwait, do we have to toast?" Sebastian asked, looking caught off guard.
Randal shot him a wide-eyed stare. "Of course! Itâs part of the ceremony!"
Sebastian sighed but raised his cup anyway. "To... tea."
"And to me!" Randal added, grinning madly.
As they all took a sip, Sebastian attempted to interject. "I was thinkingâ"
But Randal cut him off again, waving his arms. "No time for thinking! We need more sugar!"
Sebastianâs mouth opened, clearly about to say something, but Randal continued. "You know, if you mix the sugar with the milk just right, it tastes likeâ"
"Randal, I reallyâ" Sebastian tried again, but Randal was on a roll.
"And donât forget the cookies! They must be chocolate chip, or else theyâre just eugh!!"
"Randal can i-"
[Y/N] quickly interrupted Sebastian again.
"Sure I'll go get the cookies!" She giggled and skipped to the kitchen, feeling happy about the passive aggressive revenge she had gotten on Sebastian.
