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doodles-kit · 1 month ago

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hihihihi I really like your reverse 1999 stuff!! mind I'd I request horropedia comforting his s/o from a nightmare his? tytyty!!!

;R1999 HORROPEDIA - "one more night"

Horropedia x Reader 2.5k words hurt/comfort Your streak of nightmares continues, but this time, Horropedia is the one to come and find you, not the other way around.

I wrote in one sitting this while possessed by dionysian madness while waiting for 2.8 to drop so this might have some typos or weird sentences. also also, you can consider this some sort of spiritual sequel or continuation to the Night Terrors Horropedia sleepytime fic! it deffo was written with some continuation in mind at least!

Wooden planks creak under Horropedia’s feet as he tiptoes out of his room─he stops momentarily to cringe at the noise, resonating even louder in the dead of night, before continuing his journey to the kitchen downstairs.

What an utter waste of all the skills he picked up during his time as SPDM’s most troublesome child. Back then, when he was around the Timekeeper’s height, not a single staff member could hear him walk by after he memorized every single slippery tile and creaking door, perfecting his route each and every night they confiscated his gadgets and magazines. But over the years, the chances to polish these abilities became scarce; the last time he made use of them was in the School of Discipline with Jessica, and after that, the welcoming aura of the suitcase made it impossible to cultivate the proper atmosphere for a good sneaking session.

There used to be high stakes and consequences to being caught, but now, all he receives are polite greetings and weird looks here and there. What about the thrill?

His eyes slowly move towards the many doors lined along the hallway. The majority remain closed, but a few are open, just enough to allow a tiny glimpse into the bedrooms of the suitcase’s residents Night owls like him were also pretty rare, and those preferred to spend their time outside in the wilderness than cooped up in their rooms. The only ones that would stay up until late at night inside the house aside from him had to be An An Lee and …

A smile slowly creeps into his face. In an instant, his mind is made up. Nevermind the snack break or his usual tinkering sessions─overcome with a feeling of nostalgia, Horropedia decides to seek you out for one more adventure. The path to your room is clear in his mind and soon, he finds himself standing in front of your door.

Knock, knock.

The door creaks open and it’s only then that Horropedia realizes it’s been left open. Since when did you start doing that? Whenever he visits, it’s always locked shut so he can deliver the password only you two know and be granted access to your safe haven, but now …?

Curious, he calls out your name in a hushed whisper and takes a single step forward. “Hey, I thought I taught you better than this! Leaving the door unlocked means you’ll either have the bad guy sneak in while you sleep or worse, those twins down the hall will chase Pickles in here and make a mess of your things─” The sight before him is enough to make Horropedia freeze.

You sit by the edge of your bed, your shivering form so small and tense as if afraid of taking the tiniest bit of space in your very own room that it makes something in his chest shrivel up painfully. His eyes meet yours in a moment of tense silence, as he notices the glass of water almost slipping out of your grasp in your surprise, but you gather yourself even tighter, curling up into you as if that alone could hide you from him. Like an animal expecting to be hurt or scolded.

“Woah, hey─” Horropedia starts on instinct, hands raised to show he means no harm at all. “It’s just me. May I come in?”

A nod is all he needs to fully step inside and close the door behind him. However, no efforts to approach are made and he remains dutifully still by the entrance. Once his eyes get used to the darkness, with only the faintest light from the moon illuminating the room, Horropedia makes a note to observe you for any potential injuries─there are no signs of struggle or fighting, no traces of arcanum lingering, and you seem perfectly fine. Shaken, but fine. He rules out the possibility of you coming back from an impromptu, late night mission. So it can only be one thing.

Soon enough, the glass of water is taken from you as Horropedia settles it down somewhere else on the nearest table, before he drops to his knees in front of you to cup your hands in his, the strong grip meant to ground you back to reality. Without his usual glove, you can feel the warmth of both hands, the calloused and rough fingers pressing deep on your skin─never enough to hurt you, just the right pressure to help you center yourself. This, however, has the total opposite effect on you; your breath catches in your throat momentarily.

“Glasses of cold water only work when you want to stop crying, not when you’re holding back the tears.” The way he delivers these words is nothing special, it’s the same softness he’s treated you with whenever you had a nightmare, but that’s what gets to you. The way he reminds you of all these obvious things that are hard to remember in moments of panic without any trace of judgement or shame. “And If you need comfort after a nightmare, you either come to me or get yourself a nice glass of warm milk. Although unconventional, it works wonders, really.”

He presses your hands together and raises them up to his lips, so that he can press an awkward but earnest kiss atop of your knuckles, before rubbing them with his own palm. Something in you snaps─no, it overflows, a wave of unrestrained emotion that refuses to be held back after being shown such casual display of kindness and concern. When you throw yourself into his arms, sobbing in short and quick uneven breaths, he makes sure to catch you. It’s an awkward position, but he holds it for as long as he can as you cling onto his shirt, staining it with tears and snot.

“See? Much better to let it out, just be careful, okay? You’re─oof─you’re hugging me a bit too tightly, I think you might end up tearing my shirt and it’s one of my favorites.” For Horropedia’s sake, you lessen your grip and allow him to hold you. He sways gently from side to side after a moment. With his arms wrapped around your shoulders and your head safely tucked under his chin, his voice envelops you, forcing you to concentrate on it as you close your eyes and cry. “There, there. What was it this time? The end of the world and an impending, unavoidable doom? Some grotesque creature inspired by all the movies we’ve been watching lately? Or perhaps something a bit more personal.”

Usually, talking helps to comfort you, and so he has no problem filling the silence, but this last part earns him a frown and a feeble attempt at pushing him. The expression on your face is that of clear anger and shock, as if he had just cursed your entire family tree to hell and back, and he struggles to understand the reason behind this reaction.

“What did I say? Usually your nightmares are pretty standard in terms of horror, it doesn’t mean that your fear is any less valid or that you have no creativity to dream something more unique─Ouch!” Another push. Horropedia leans back, propped by his elbows, and attempts to shimmy his way out from under you. “Sorry! But I really don’t know what I said that upset you!”

You sniffle, wiping away at your tears and rest your forehead against his. “The nightmare, I had a nightmare about you.”

Oh. His mouth closes, swallowing whatever other words he was meant to say. You take the opportunity to continue.

“I can’t … remember the details now, but something happened to you and I didn’t─I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m right here and I’m perfectly fine, so─”

On impulse, you cut him off, a little more aggressively than you intended, feeling your face burn with anger and embarrassment. “I know! It’s dumb, you’re obviously not going to die on me like that, nothing awful would happen like that because it just, it makes no sense and it’s a stupid dream. I know that. It’s a stupid dream and it’s stupid to get upset about it!”

An involuntary and choked sob escapes you, one after another as the fuzzy memories of your nightmare become clearer and clearer in your mind. Any attempts at covering your face are instantly thwarted as Horropedia grabs your shoulders. His hands them move slowly towards your neck and then your face, cupping and squishing your cheeks. If you hadn’t seen the look on his eyes, you would’ve assumed he was trying to tease you, to poke fun at how childish you must seem at this moment─but there he is, serious and solemn, staring deeply into you.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I would never mean it like that; it is a stupid dream but you’re not stupid for being affected by it. That’s just how the brain works!” The anger quickly subsides, replaced by even more embarrassment. Horropedia notices and gently coaxes you into his embrace, so that he may prop you up and help you to your feet. “You saw something upsetting that you believed was true, so of course you reacted accordingly. But this is the best type of nightmare to dispel─unlike psychological horror that plays with the unknown, I’m right here as proof that it wasn’t real.”

All you can do is nod, breathing in and out as you count to ten in your mind, just the way he taught you to. One, two, three … Horropedia is standing right beside you, you can reach out and touch him if you want, you can smell the subtle scent coating his hands, of copper and all the other materials he works with, mixed with sweat and his shampoo. Four, five, six … The air is cold and so is the ground as you tiptoe into the hallway with him, feeling the rough texture of wooden planks, then the softness of the carpet and finally, the even colder tiles of the kitchen. Seven, eight, nine, ten. The warm milk with honey tastes sweet as you swirl it around in your mouth, having taken a sip a little too eagerly without waiting for it to cool off.

Sometimes, you taste the salt of your tears dripping down your cheek and towards your lips whenever you remember the nightmare, but a few deep breaths are enough to calm yourself down and enjoy the drink Horropedia has prepared for you. He sits next to you, blowing on a hot mug of coffee, and soon, you feel warm again, so very warm─so warm that you can’t help but notice just how cold your feet feel against the kitchen tiles. Without thinking, you swing them over his lap, content with yourself.

“Hey!” The indignation in Horropedia’s voice carries no weight and you know that he doesn’t mind because he rests one hand over your thigh, giving you a few playful pats. “It’s not enough to be your knight in shining armor, I also have to be your personal leg rest?”

“Don’t forget my personal barista, I didn’t know you could make a drink this delicious.”

“It’s just some milk, sugar, honey and cinnamon─there’s nothing special about it. My grandfather could never afford to make it for me each time I had a nightmare, but he’d always insist that I never forget the recipe for the future. In case I ever needed it.” Horropedia reminisces, looking into the distance as if lost in thought. Then, that smile of his returns as he proudly raises his mug. “Too bad I ended up being more of a black coffee drinker, this bitterness is just the thing when you need to pull an all-nighter!”

“Well, I’m glad you still remembered it just for me.” You lean forward and nuzzle his shoulder affectively. He lets out a long sigh.

“If only you remembered to come and get me whenever this happens … I guess we can always ask Vertin to move our bedrooms closer together, surely the suitcase has some handy feature like that, with how rooms just keep popping up randomly whenever we get new guests. Oh, even better, we could be roommates!”

It’s hard not to laugh at the idea of sharing a bedroom with Horropedia; you’ve seen the mess that is his room and how peculiar he is about where he settles all of his tools and other equipment. It would be chaos, absolute chaos─not only for you, but for all of your neighbours.

“And subject yourself to those cliché romcom tropes, like how there’s only one bed? I didn’t expect that from you, Horropedia.”

Now it’s his turn to chuckle, setting his drink down to point an accusatory finger at you. “We’ve fallen asleep together on my couch more times than I can count, we could easily subvert every single one of these tropes. But nevermind that─I want to ask something. About the nightmare, only if you’re feeling better.”

“I think ... I am fine, or better at least, what is it?”

His voice lowers to a whisper, and he fools you for a second into thinking that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was deserving of this sudden and serious atmosphere.

“You said it was about me and all but… i just want to know one thing, you don’t need to give me the gory details─I didn’t die in any stupid, easily avoidable ways, did I?”

“Oh my God, Horropedia.”

“What? I think it’s a perfectly normal think to ask! I’m curious to know what’s your perception of me.”

You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling at him. “I don’t remember.”

“I know all your little tells, and you’re currently lying to me.”

“Next time, I’ll make sure you die in the stupidest way possible, like slipping on a banana peel, and then I’ll tell you all about it, how’s that sound?”

“Now that’s cruel, I wouldn’t mischaracterize you so horribly in my own dreams!”

The two of you keep going back and forth in lively conversation, with the fear of your nightmare long forgotten all there’s left to do is enjoy this quiet night─or rather, what would have been a quiet night. It’s only when Blonney comes stomping down into the kitchen, demanding that you mind your volume, that you two quickly return make your way out of the kitchen, laughing all the way back to the dormitories.

But before you can return to your own bedroom, Horropedia tugs on your sleeve. “I know that sharing a room is probably more trouble than it's worth, but you never said anything about letting me sleep over. You know, just in case you need your reliable friend to chase away the bad dreams."

His tinkering and inventions can wait until tomorrow, but right now, he wants to stay by your side, at the very least until he's made sure you've fallen asleep. Horropedia feels you pull away and retreat deeper into your room. And just when he thinks you're about to turn him down and turn in for the night, a soft pillow bounces against his face before falling unceremoniously to the ground.

"That's your pillow, try not to drool or snore like you usually do." You stick out your tongue at him.

He mimics your gesture. "Sure, as long you don't hog the blankets or shove your cold, clammy hands under my shirt."

"No promises!"

Click. The door closes behind him.

#reblog #reverse 1999 horropedia #AHHHHHH EATING THIS UP #GOAT IS BACK GOAT IS BACK

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