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sleeping-diary-the-fic · 4 months

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Sleeping diary (a pink aftermare story)

Chapter 5: Thyme to experiment!

First Previous

Orchid -might as well mentally call himself that now- closed the book and rolled over, holding it firmly in his arms.

He had lots to think about.

How did that whole thing happen? Why? How did it work exactly? Who was Berlingot and were the fascinating flowers he sketched under the other’s guidance real ? What was the “tree of feelings''? How much of what was uttering the stranger was trustworthy?

New questions kept popping and being replaced by another as fast. Bubbles of thoughts hanging low looking reachable but disappearing in a laugh the instant his phalanx crept close.

At least he wasn’t freaking out anymore.

Surprisingly.

He went over it fast.

It was better to give up now and enjoy what it gave him.

Something to think about.

Company.

“Will you still be here tomorrow?”...

What a strange concept to think in this solid darkness place.

When will be “tomorrow”?

He was playing with his slipper, clumsily throwing it in the air (what air?) with a kick and trying to catch it back, with various results.

Was the time going forward in a place outside of “time”?

“Plop” made the shoe sloping down.

Was the time synced with Berlingot’s timeline like the notebook.

He barely reached the slipper with his toes.

Did an “Universal timeline Time” exist?

Up the slipper went, once again, flying gracefully in the black of the moment.

Were some monsters living on the surface, hidden away in a secret nook of the surface world ?

The pink fuzzy item splortched in the middle of his face and he stayed there, unmoving.

Would he lose this link to Berlingot if a reset happened?

…

The monster removed the offending object from his face and threw it the farthest possible in the unknown. It will come back… eventually.

What was he thinking about? Who cared about that?

He uselessly dusted himself off and stood high.

It was time to experiment !

Now with only one slipper, he trudged closer to the save point and promptly zoned out under the basking light.

He blinked back to reality after a while of trying to classify how the save point's light felt on his bones.

Experience. Yes.

The book was spread out in front of him on the first “new” page.

He quickly glanced at the conversation, unconsciously rereading it, before setting his gaze to the paper itself.

Orchid, then, dutifully compared the “old” pages to the “new” pages.

Color, length, weight, strength and everything he could think of at the moment.

The two bore no real differences. They look the same, they smell the same… Why?

What was the true nature of that link?

Did they have completely similar notebooks and the pages were in two places simultaneously or were only the words somehow copied?

The slipper was back on his kicking foot.

He had to do some tests.

But he couldn’t do that alone, could he?

He needed Berlingot’s aid for that…?

The monster grumbled and squirmed into another position, not any more comfy than the precedent, and put a number at the end of each “shared” page.

He had no idea when tomorrow would come but he could at least prepare for it and brainstorm.

Once this endeavor was satisfied, he took the time to write some short instructions about simple tests he desired to conduct.

And then, left with nothing interesting to think about, he rolled over into the patch of flowers and gave in to his need to slumber.

Fuzz tickles his legs.

Static licks his arms.

Vagueness feels his head.

Wonder circles him.

A finger. A socket. A rib.

The mad Hatter offers him chrysanthemum.

It swirls among water lily blossoms.

A frog jumps in the sky.

It’s today.

The ladder unfurls behind him and he starts painstakingly crawling up it.

What a joy!

Clouds block the way, he stops a moment to breathe.

Soon!

He tries to continue but he can’t.

So close!

The clouds are gone but he can’t.

Today is the day!

Looking down, his feets are now roots coming all the way to the bottom of the fruit basket.

His dream is just a few meters up!

Dancing changes nothing, myosotis grows between his fingers.

The long wait’s reward is up there!

Running water pushes the ladder far away.

He missed his chance.

Orchid woke up with a headache and a lasting half-conscious daze interlaced with bits of fleeting dream memories.

“Ughhhhhh, that was a bad nap…”, he announced to the void.

He rolled and groaned for a while, mentally depicting himself as a sausage on a rocking chair for some reason before finally grasping back at enough threads of lucidity to sit and ponder at what he was going to do next that wasn’t more sausage rolling.

A glance to the innocently laying there notebook near him was just the thing he needed to fully finish picking up his common sense and slapping it back together with his motor skills still in a weird merged sculpture.

Result was:

He took the book, flipped through the pages and searched for it.

Novelty.

“Hello Orchid! I hope you slept well, I have! I read the instructions you left me once my brother went away and did the best I could alone. I cut the corner of page 4, crumbled page 8, stained with ink page 12 and with fruit waste page 9 (it stinks) and burned the whole of page 14 instead of just a bit due to some accident that wasn’t my fault. I am eager to hear what happened from your side!”

“I got bored of reading so here I am again, when will you be coming back?”

“My brother came back with tomatoes, we ate one and I will not tell what happened to the others.”

“Tomato stains are hard to get out of clothes.”

“The afternoon is reaching its end soon, I guess we didn’t decide on an hour but…”

“I must have stared a bit too hard at the diary, Marianne kept asking unusual stuff.”

“Where are you?”

“The sun is coming down.”

Ah.

He must have slept for a while. His sight wobbled, jumping from one word to another.

And yet…

“Hey.”

He was going to check on the mentioned pages but the answer was immediate.

“Orchid! I thought you weren’t going to answer anymore…”

He audibly winced.

“No, my nap just went longer than I would like.”

“You slept all day?”

“Yes.”

“That is a lot of sleep…”

“When you don’t have a clock, it is hard to tell night from day.”

“What does it mean? Isn’t the sun enough for that?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, so you followed the directions I left?”

“Yes! Tell me what happened for you.”

“Gimme a minute.”

“Gimme?”

“Give me.”

Orchid stopped reading whatever the other wrote next and put the notebook flat in front of him, tucking the pen in his coat pocket.

Pages 4,8,9,12 and 14…

The monster turned the pages until he found the number 4 scribbled in a corner.

The page was intact except for a strange black line in a corner. The upper right one… He brushed his finger against it and came to the conclusion it was no ink or at least not fresh one.

Page 8…

It should have been crumbled on Berlingot’s side. It looked fine.

His face came closer as he studied the seemingly new looking page. There, some very very faint gray markings littered the whole space.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted my sight, I swear it’s getting worse every time…”, he sighed to nobody.

Page 9…

He asked Berlingot to stain it with anything that wasn’t ink. Checking once again the writings, the other used fruit to achieve that. And it had been described as smelly by the other?

Page 9 was immaculate. No stains. He brought the paper to his nose and focused. No smell either.

Nothing…

Page 12…

This one, it was to be stained with ink. And it did look like it was! A big part of the page was pure black.

Page 14…

Finally the burnt one.

Surprisingly, it was missing. Nothing was there between the pristine pages 13 and 15. No traces of it ever existing at all

Orchid sighed and put the book down to think about the results of those little experiments. His goal was to determine the “rules” of the linking. Were those pages existing at two places or was whatever written in one copied in the other? From where exactly came these new pages? His book? Berlingot’s diary? Or from a third secret source? Was he linked to more than one book and it was a sort of network?

Fidgeting with the end of his scarf, he continued his musing.

The “rules”... Ink went through (regardless of the color), fruit did not. Smell did not travel with. Damage carried somehow but as mere traces… Unless the page was burnt off… Was it the fire or the major compromising of the paper who did the trick? He would benefit from more testing…

But first.

The monster mindlessly wrote his findings in the notebook and rolled on his back, staring at the black nothingness.

Hm.

End of chapter 5! Go to chapter 6?

Aftertale belongs to @/loverofpiggies Berlingot and Orchid belong to me

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont

#sleeping diary #chapter 5 #thyme to experiment #unhappy with this #not the chapter #it wrote itself nicely enough #just about the quality of writing #gave up on editing

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sleeping-diary-the-fic · 8 months

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Sleeping diary (a pink aftermare story)

Chapter 4: What a discoberry!

First Previous

Berlingot stared at his notebook. Stared at the words.

“Who are you?”

Three words.

That shouldn't be here. And that was giving him what seemed very close to an existential crisis.

How dared a weird notebook make him feel like that? What was up with it anyways? He let his fingers trail against the wood, focusing on the texture to calm his nerves.

There.

He was holding a notebook that for some reason answered him. Now, theories.

1-He was dreaming.

2-The notebook is sentient.

3-Someone is talking to him through his notebook somehow?

4- Fancier Magic notebook ever

Berlingot sighed and leaned back, forgetting to keep a hold on the book which unbeknownst to him was inexorably sliding down.

He barely managed to grab it when it ended up falling and he had an even worse balancing back on the branch after the stunt.

The guardian was now fully upside-down, his legs around the branch the only thing keeping him from crashing down… On top of his sleeping brother who somehow rolled in his sleep to be right under him.

An instant passed as Berlingot stared down.

At Dream snoozling soundly, draped in a comfy looking pastel blue and pink blanket.

Should he tell him about the notebook? He didn't keep a lot of things from his twin… What would Drea- Marianne think about this?

He'd want to play with the "haunted" book too, he bet! Berlingot chuckled at the thought of him chasing him down the hill for it (maybe he'd throw a boot or two to slow him down) but…

His arms tightened around the diary.

…

He clumsily righted himself back on his branch.

Maybe he could keep it a secret for at least a while? It was HIS gift after all.

Now more confident about his decision, he carefully rolled around to lie with the diary in front of him.

He should answer that, shouldn't he?

The apple spirit sighed deeply before grabbing once again his trusty pen and wrote what he decided was his name despite his shaking hands and his wildly swooshing internal energy.

"Berlingot."

And then, because it was only polite to ask as well, he added "and you?" right under it.

Now, he just had to wait for an answer.

His feet were kicking in the air. He wrote his name! Like it was always his!

In his euphoria, he stopped watching over the page for new words.

But when he finally calmed down, nothing.

The page was still empty?

Why? No, come back! Please, he needed that!

Berlingot could feel his eye sockets getting slightly damp and tried to keep the panic down.

He scribbled some other words.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I just wanted to have something to call you, you know?”

Yes! Maybe, it was shy ? Maybe it didn't have a name and it was embarrassed, that was all! It? They? He? She?

He had so many questions.

Stars continued to twinkle over him and wind continued to ruffle the leaves around him while he waited impatiently.

There!

The pink words!!!

There were back!!!!

"You may call me Orchid then."

Orchid? Like the flower? He read about this one once, never encountered once.

It was a pretty name.

Now! Questions!

"Ok Orchid! Nice to meet you! Do you mind if I ask you something I was wondering about?"

"Not at all, as long as you answer my own questions, Berlingot."

A squeal escaped him before he could hold it in at being referred to with his (newish) name by whatever/whoever this was.

He quickly glanced down to the floor, suddenly anxious, but the soft breathing down there didn’t change.

Focus.

The questions.

He went back to writing with gusto.

"Let’s take turns asking ! What are you ?"

Ok, maybe that was a bit clumsily asked but he really wanted to know.

"I’m someone. Are you asking for my specie ?"

Before he could ever consider writing something back, Orchid added something else.

"Are you alive ?"

It confused him for a second before he furiously scrambled his answer, bold streaks of purple against white paper.

"YES, OF COURSE I’M ALIVE. What kind of question is that ?"

"I had to make sure, in case. I assume you wouldn’t know how this happened ?"

"I thought you’d know since you’re in my diary…"

"A diary, uh ? I have a few theories but nothing conclusive yet. Where are you ? As in the place."

"Hey, it was my turn !"

"Gotta be faster, kid. "

"I am not a kid!"

"You sure do sound like one."

"YOU’RE THE KID!!!"

"Sure, kiddo."

"I’m an adult-"

"I’ll leave you the benefit of the doubt for now."

"..."

Was this stranger trying to annoy him? Berlingot was just going to ignore that for now.

"So what are your questions so you can answer mine after?"

"Oh uh. Do you like pajama parties ? I’m at the tree of feelings."

"… I used to at least. We did a lot when we were younger. A tree ? I never heard of that one ? What kind of tree are we talking about ?"

"We ? An apple tree. It’s weird you never heard of it. You’re not from around, are you ?"

"You could say that. Oh forget about that, it’s in the past. What kind of apple tree ? I never saw one but I know they make nice flowers. Maybe you could sketch me one ?"

"Oh. It’s a unique kind of apple tree. Trust me I searched in various plant books and I didn’t find anything similar. I don’t draw well, I’m not sure that would help..."

"Could you maybe describe a flower for me ?"

"Let me give it a try.”

He stared at a flower not far over his head and started to describe it the best he could.

“They’re small. The inside is white but it has yellow undertones, it almost sparkles. The outside is darker, stained with black in random places. It smells good under the rain but usually it doesn’t make sense at all. Sometimes when the wind is strong, the petals fall but they fade the instant they touch the ground. It turns pink when the sun rises or sets. The insects never approach them. They’re here all year and only turn into fruits when an apple is taken so the count stays the same…"

While he wrote all he could think of, he could see a drawing starting to take form next to his words. He made sure to actually leave enough space for Orchid to continue. He made small comments (" no the petals are a bit less roundish and they’re a bit thicker than average as if two petals were stuck together, the stamens glow in the dark!...”) to adjust the drawing until it was the closest drawing he ever saw of the flowers.

“You draw well!”

“Thanks, that’s a hobby.”

Berlingot yawned and glanced at the sky. The dark blue was slowly but steadily becoming lighter. Maybe he should call it a day, or a night.

“Orchid, I had fun but I am getting very tired. Good night?”

“Oh forgive me, it’s hard to tell time here, rest well Berlingot.”

“Will you still be here tomorrow?”

“I can’t promise but I’ll try, would that be enough?”

“It is, thanks and good night!”

Berlingot closed the diary and shuffled to get comfortable.

Soon his eyes closed, exhaustion finally catching up over him and he let himself drift softly into a comatose state.

Please, be there tomorrow.

End of chapter 4! Go to next chapter?

Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog Aftertale belongs to @/loverofpiggies

Berlingot and Orchid belong to me Marianne (who is sleeping but I guess he's mentioned so) belongs to @yuriyuruandyuraart

@dragon-tamer-1

@shinechermont

#chapter 4 #What a discoberry!#I'mma start using colors for when they write #pink for Orchid #purple for Berlingot #I thought so much about thoses flowers XD #after I ended this chapter I almost went to rewrite it because I didn't give much thoughts about how each would write but I gave up on it #maybe food for later

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sleeping-diary-the-fic · 10 months

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Hehehehe

Sleeping diary (a pink aftermare story)

Chapter 3: Are you orchidding me?

First Previous

WHAT!?? What was happening !?? He was 100% sure he didn't write that word glaring at him? The fresh glittery purple ink laid on his notebook was driving him crazy!

He put down the offending notebook and harshly ran his hands over his eye sockets.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Who wrote that?

He had been holding the thing the whole time?

The monster closed and opened the notebook a few times, just to be sure. Yep, it was still there. He approached his face as close as possible to observe the words, his bone nose almost brushing against the paper.

Was he hallucinating? Had he somehow written that and just… forgotten? A tremor ran through his entire body as he tried to understand what was happening. He was alone. Fact one. There were words on his notebook he didn’t remember writing. Fact two.

Two facts. That were actively contradicting the other!

He wanted to scream.

He did scream.

Advantage to being (mostly) alone in a black void. Nobody could care about how loud you were or if you were eating your footwear. What one individual could do when boredom was gnawing at their mind was rarely anything very smart.

Bugs were buzzing through his mind as he rotated the small facts around in his mind. He couldn’t go crazy!!!

Do you mean he went through the entirety of his villain arc mostly lucid and it was when he finally let go of his disturbingly morbid plan that he finally lost the last marbles rolling around in his skull?

The sigh that resonated in the dark emptiness would have been strong enough to destroy an entire town of little wooden houses.

Enough. Enough. The monster held onto his slippers and clapped them together, brutishly. The pink fuzzy cat-shaped things scrunched together before returning to their original state.

Was the motion enough to ground him? He wasn’t sure.

How could someone be grounded in a “groundless” space like this one? He chuckled as he struck what was the closest thing to a ground here. Focusing on the strange sensation, he tried to let the anxiety and panic flow out of his weary bones.

He could barely feel it.

No temperature.

No harsh texture.

It was a bit like water, maybe more like mud. He could barely push his hand against it while using strength but if he just let his hand rest gently on it… It would slightly sink. That was it. It was the dizzying sensation of constantly sinking.

But everything went down with him at the same time. A sinking ship. Forever dry despite the liquid lapping at its sides.

Slowly, slowly going down.

Never up.

The void was a weird thing, changing, always. What was true one second could be wrong the next instant. It used to grind him but he adapted.

The save screen protected him from the rest of the place. If one could call that a place. The energy coming out of the star runned under the surface, like roots or fish. It did not go far before fading however. He tended to be very wary of the limits of the “safe” zone in general. The skeleton picked at his clothes, removing his jacket and messing with the hem.

There.

Calm.

Rhodiola. Hawthorn. Lemon balm. St. John's wort. Passion flower.

Good.

Picture the plant.

Small. White. Leaves. Yellow. Weird.

Think about the smell.

Strong chemicals. Spicy. Minty lemon. Mild. Sweet tropical.

Good.

The monster fidgeted for a few more minutes before finally feeling his mind slow down.

He was NOT having a crisis over some stupid words in a glitter pen on his freshly improved notebook.

Where did he put that abomination?

A single glance sufficed to show him where the object was. At arm lance. Right where he left it.

The item was opened once again and laid out in front of him. The glaring “hello?” was still there. He was tempted to push that whole situation aside for after his nap. But he was rational, no way he was going to sleep now.

So he did the only thing he could think of in his still slightly dazed state.

He picked up his own pen and wrote on the paper:

“Who are you?”

And waited.

Long enough to start feeling stupid about the whole ordeal.

But his patience was rewarded when letters inscribed themselves onto the paper under his very eyes. It was a bit surreal to watch.

First a “B”. The letter was written fancily, albeit a bit shakily… “e”…”r”…”l”…”i”…”n”…”g”…”o”…”t”.

Then a question.

“And you?”

Berlingot? Wasn’t that the name of some sweet or something like that? Did a pastry decide to haunt his notebook or something? Sure, why not!It was not as if his life could get any weirder after all!

The monster once again ranted aloud.

Very loudly.

Now what to do? Should he answer the ghost pastry? What should he even answer?

A genocidal monster? His name, that thing that he couldn’t recognize himself in anymore? The truth…?

He didn’t know anymore. Who was he? How could such a simple question have such a complicated answer…

He knew who he had been. But, now, who was he? An echo of the past? Lost in this nowhere place? A confused piece of a soul?

He glared at the notebook, how dare thee!

Noticing “Berlingot” added something to the page, he greedily gripped onto the book in the vain hope of distracting himself from those spiraling thoughts.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I just wanted to have something to call you, you know?”

Something to call him? Something to call…

Maybe he could do that. The monster played with his scarf, pulling it tighter then looser and repeating the movement, deep in thoughts.

Like a nickname? It put less pressure on him for sure. He didn’t have to be perfectly suited for the truth. How does one decide on a nickname? It could be something derived from his birth name? Ew, no. No “Sansy” here. Or something that came from a remarkable experience? Well, it was how he ended up with “Geno” so let’s look for another nicknaming protocol. It could also be something he liked a lot?

He let go of his scarf to flip through the older pages of his notebook. What did he like? Napping?

Fear the terrible “napmaster”!

He stood serious for a second before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. No, no, not that. Too close to "legendary fartmaster" anyway. He didn't want to have such a reminder in his "name".

What to choose? What to choose?

His fingers touched the bruised pages again. What about…?

He flipped to the very first page and stared at it.

He went back to the newest page after what felt like hours worth of hesitation and carefully wrote:

"You may call me Orchid then."

End of chapter 3! Go to chapter 4?

*******************************************************

Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog

Aftertale belongs to @/loverofpiggies

Berlingot and Orchid belong to me

@dragon-tamer-1

@shinechermont

@yuriyuruandyuraart (Marianne isn't there but I thought you'd like to know how the story's going)

surpriiiiise!

#chapter 3 #Are you orchidding me?#you can thank Drag' for motivating me to continue #I have a plot in mind #I'll continue to be one of the slowest writer on earth tho so no schedule #I need to do a cover thingie this side blog is not the prettiest #but it drives the point in my head that I didn't give up on the story and will continue it alongside CDTT :D

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sleeping-diary-the-fic · 10 months

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First ====> Next

Aaaaand I decided to continue the pink aftermare story >:3

Time to see Berlingot side! And apparition of the first pink character that doesn't belong to me~

Sleeping diary (a pink aftermare story)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Jello from the other side

It had been a bad day.

He had worse ones but it still didn't make that one a good one.

It had started so well, though...

He had woken up to the smell of fresh bread, not a bad way to wake up in his opinion. Some villagers had given his brother, Dream, some to thank him.

To thank him for what? He hadn't known and hadn't bothered to ask. He just had grabbed his twin's arm, forcing him to sit down on the soft cushions he often laid around the tree.

They had eaten there, bickering and laughing until late morning. Then he was left alone. Some sick children needed cheering up. He had wanted to go as well, he wanted to help. But the other guardian had looked at him with big sad eyes and a tight smile before claiming that he didn't want what happened last time to repeat. He also promised to bring back a gift in the afternoon.

The soft click of their foreheads together had been enough proof of the speech's sincerity but it hadn't stopped his inside from squirming as his brother's shape disappeared in the narrow street he could barely see from his seat in the tree.

Disappointed, he quickly decided to seek a suitable distraction. He rearranged his pillows' collection, putting the olds underneath to keep the comfy one on top. He fluffed out some stuff and set the covers in a way the folds were all smoothed out. He got a bit carried away after. Who could blame him? He felt too restless to read or nap the day away so he busied himself. He filled his head to the brim with daydreams of slumber parties. With numerous people. Friends. As if the peeps from town ever accepted to come here to spend time with him.

"Remember the last time you tried to help…"

He chased down the pestering thoughts to focus on decorating the few fruitless branches that were strong enough to be safe to climb with flowers. He put the ones he liked the most on his fingers like some colorful rings.

He grinned at it, not noticing his favorite shawl, the deep purple pink with golden stars and fringes, was slipping from his shoulders. It flopped down the cushioned ground. A strong gust of wind made the apparently poorly balanced apple spirit join it immediately after. His startled cry got muffled when his face landed first on a star shaped plush.

It was probably at this point that he had started to realize he really got carried away.

He stood up to inspect the mess. He almost landed in the fancy bowl full of fruits he put near a thin mattress. What would be a sumbler party without some good snacks after all? What he did land on were the various card games he laid out to choose later on which ones could be the most interesting with several players. He gathered back the wandering cards and threw them in a bag he kept behind the tree with a heavy sigh.

Once the task was done, he went to lie down on the makeshift bed hidden from the outside world by a cover tied to a branch. He gathered his knees in his hands and let static swallowed him. It had been a bad day. He'll just wait it out or at least wait for his brother to come back.

…

"...Night! Nightmare ! Wake up!"

Someone was shaking his shoulders. He didn't remember falling asleep. He opened his eyes to his frowning brother's face. A pastel blue and pink ocean staring at him.

"You look like you were having a bad sleep, Night'..."

His brother sat down beside him and slowly removed his thigh high boots lined with fur. He then threw his arm in one and got out of a candy cane he immediately shoved in his mouth. The shoes were discarded in a corner, leaving his brother in long stockings his twin particularly enjoyed to display when he was in no need of shoes.

The action gave him enough time to process what Dream said to him. His crown almost toppled when his head turned sharply, a scold visible on his features.

“Dream… You called me Nightmare again…”

The other guardian tipped his head, confused.

“Well... that’s your name, brother? What’s the matter with calling you that?”

The positive guardian scooted closer, waiting for an answer.

“I already told you I don’t like that name… It’s too…”nightmarish”!”

He pinched the pink fringes of his pants.

“...I think I indeed remember you talking about that a while ago? Although I didn’t really understand why you’d refuse to be called by your birth name? What was that nickname you wanted me to call you again? It was something sweet I think? Chocolate? Cream? Candy?”

He knew that his brother didn’t mean ill but it still hurted him he just wouldn’t understand. That he didn’t want to be “Nightmare” anymore.

“Berlingot,” he muttered in his brother's direction.

Dream must have felt his uneasiness as he stopped talking and carefully wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The elegantly dressed skeleton gave him a thoughtful look before throwing him a bright smile, the bit of pale pink in his eyelights shaping hearts, as if he figured something out.

“I still don’t understand what’s the matter with your name but I’ll do it. I’ll call you Berlingot as long as you want me to since it seems it’s important for you. But be patient with me, it’ll take me some time to adapt to the change!”

He couldn’t ask for better. Being patient? He could do that.

"Oh I know! I'll get used to it more quickly if I change my name as well!"

Where was that discussion going…?

"It wouldn't be fair if you were the only one to have a brand new name. So call me Marianne from now on !"

"What? You don't have to change your name, Drea-"

"Call me Marianne, Berlingot."

"..."

"Fine"

"Marianne, got it."

Drea- Marianne looked absolutely thrilled by this development and the candy cane he didn’t finish almost went flying in his eyes with one too big arm movement. Berlingot chuckled at his brother’s antics. His twin seemed a little confused, but he got the spirit. And if that meant he didn’t have to explain once more the whole name problem, he was fine with never being totally understood.

Marianne cheerfully started to narrate his day, throwing in details about places he never and people he didn’t. Berlingot glanced at the pink ribbon-tied fabric around the other’s neck. Maybe it was for the better that he missed out on all those things after all.

The positive spirit stopped in the middle of a sentence and stared at the sky, the mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Did a sudden thought tripped him in his storytelling?

He observed him rummage through a small sachel he didn’t notice. It looked new, blue as the sky with white and gold birds sewed on. Pretty thing.

“Berlingot, close your eyes and no peeking!”

He automatically obeyed without thinking. Something was pushed in his arms. It felt like some kind of book.

Once he was sure he could open his eyes without provoking any ire, he studied the object between his hands. It was a book. The cover was mostly black and felt rugged under his fingers. A pattern of flowers climbed from a corner and invaded a part of the cover’s space. A small silver butterfly was half hidden by purplish lines coming out of the flowers. It had no title and was closed by a clasp. He carefully unlocked it and peeked at the pages. He was greeted by blank pages. Sure there were lines and small decorations in some corners but no written words.

A notebook?

“I know how much you like reading. So I thought, what if you wrote something yourself for once? It could be amusing! The seller told me it could make a pretty diary as well.”

That was a nice attention. He made sure to thank properly his twin for the thought, watching his toes bouncing at the praise, and soon they eased up again into a comfortable chitchat.

Berlingot only thought back to the present late at night. The moon was high and shiny, throwing a silver hue on the hill so he didn’t bother getting out a candle. He tiptoed around Marianne’s sleeping shape and went to retrieve it and a pen. He swiftly climbed on a low branch, after making sure he was nowhere near the fruits. The soft light they emitted comforted him in the idea that he would do just fine without lights.

He runned one finger along the side before opening it. He didn't have the time to think about what to write. There was already something written.

He was sure it wasn't there before. It didn't look like Dream's handwriting… Marianne's handwriting. He clapped the book shut before reopening it again, just to be sure. The words were still here. He brushed his phalanx against the bright pink ink, inspecting the stars and flowers doodled around a few sentences.

"Welcome to you! I'm sure we're going to get along nicely. I can't wait!"

Berlingot read along the words again, wondering if it was all a big joke.

He didn't know what he was thinking about when, armed with his purple glittery fountain pen, he inscribed a simple confused word:

"Hello?"

End of chapter 2 🎶

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Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog

Berlingot (pink!Nightmare) is mine

Marianne (pink!Dream) belongs to the lovely @yuriyuruandyuraart (go look at the design, it's just beautiful) 💙

/!\ do not take what I write about any pink characters that aren't mine as canon. I'm making a lot of things up to fit the story >wo

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont @zu-is-here @diofasolia New chapter ✨

#chapter 2 #Jello from the other side #^w^#Berlingot #Pink!Nightmare #Marianne #Pink!Dream #pinkverse #I decided that it would be fun to have the whole change of names instead of just being multiverse nicknames or their birth names 🌟#I'm making the plot as I go since I didn't make plans like I did with CDTT XP #I shouldn't have time to write it but- I couldn't stop thinking about it #too many ideas

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sleeping-diary-the-fic · 10 months

Text

Ok I have my aftermare story and all and I made a pink version of Geno and Nightmare a while ago. So obviously the next step is.... well... a pink aftermare story X)

It is an experiment. If I see some of you like it I'll continue! The plot is different from CDTT btw ;) because I got an idea that can be both fluffy and angsty it could turn pretty dark honestly but I'd wouldn't go too far 🎶

Lil' warning: mention of damaged non-living body in a sentence ☠️

Sleeping diary (a pink aftermare story)

Chapter 1: Oopsie daisy

He had let go of the kid. They had left with a golden flower in their hair and a promise to never meet again. He hadn’t trusted the little squirrel enough to believe they wouldn't try to break that promise the instant they found a way to come back. So he had completely locked the save screen.

He stared at the last piece of the outside world that was the bobbly window floating in the darkness. His brother and the other him… They were smiling. He couldn’t deny the thought they were now happier because he gave up. He let go of his crazy plan to destroy the timeline and resigned himself to trusting the kiddo. The fact they didn’t betray or backstab him after left him a bittersweet taste. The monsters were now free to roam on the surface without worrying. And all it took was him to remove himself from the equation. Had he only been less stubborn, it would have happened sooner.

When his former friends and family had met humans from the outside, it had been so nerve-wrecking. He had focused hard on the potential foe's expressions, ligering a lot on the kids. What if another monster-killer was among them? If one single child was enough to kill off his whole community, could you imagine what a whole town could do if they had any ill motives?

He played with a shiny petal while musing more about his feelings towards humans.

“I just hate them! They’re the worst.”

His voice sounded like a scratch record echoing through the empty space. He really doubted he could even think about fully trusting a human anytime soon. It may or may not be linked to the fact he had been traumatized by a mere child?

He barked out a laugh.

It was ridiculous.

Maybe it was for the best that he was stuck here. Otherwise he could already have blasted some humans out of existence just for startling him or something like that.

The thought of a rotten smelling body burned beyond recognition made him gag. Stop thinking about that. It was utterly disgusting.

The hovering window closed with a deflating balloon noise when he clapped his bony fingers together. The damaged-beyond-repair skeleton sat down in the darkness. He was just- He was just going to stay there for a while, hoping that the feeling of loneliness crawling over his back would just fade away sooner rather than later. Buzzing noises in the background reminded him he wasn't alone. Not truly at least… But he’d rather just die than accept Gaster’s offer!

Decided to not check on the timeline for some time, Sans- No, he won’t use that name anymore. It belonged more to his other self than him now. Geno then? Somehow, that name sounded horribly wrong now that he gave up on his more “destructive” tendencies.

…

Well, it wasn't like anyone would need to call him anytime soon.

He opened one of his last possessions outside of his clothes, a notebook full of flower sketches and barely readable notes. His finger naturally found its way between two pages and a colorless drawing of an echo flower came to his view. The monster brushed against the faintly glowing petal he stuck below the drawing before skimming through the book until he reached a blank space. Only three pages left.

A sigh escaped him as his shoulders sank and his dark pink scarf slipped a bit more from his neck. What would he do when no space would be left for his thoughts? While it might have sounded like a trivial matter to worry about, he had no easy way to get a new notebook… He glanced towards the hovering shiny star a few feet away from where he chose to sit.

What if?

…

Could he try tweaking the code of his notebook for it to have more pages without increasing its size?

…

Would it even be feasible? Would it work?

He slowly stood up, wobbling in his haste. One of his slippers was forgotten behind.

Once he was so close to the ominous glow that he felt warm light directly on his nasal bone, he squinted. Then, the overwhelming gold let place bit by bit to a mess of lines. Black on white, white on black. All mumbo-jumbo wiggling around, following a path around the star that he had yet to understand. He focused hard on the shaky letters, trying to find the exact ones he’d need in that mess. That was a trick he learnt one day boredom had been gnawing at his mind and he hadn’t found anything better to do than to glare at the distatefull giftmas decoration illuminating the place. He was still slow and clumsy at the task, and the thought of the consequence of messing with the wrong code kept sending chills down his spine, but his curiosity was strong. The sight of a half-erased line distracted him from thinking anymore, and he hurried to locate more of them as they were usually the ones linked to the save-screen…

There! A low whistle echoed around as he discovered the line about his stuff. Now to change his notebook's properties… This fading number must be the number of pages… Now, how to increase it without adding to the size? He didn’t want to end up with a huge mess of pages as a notebook after all! His arms crossed over his chest as he stuck out his summoned tongue, a habit he didn’t like that much but simply couldn’t let go of. What to do…What to do? Could it be possible to just steal pages from another random notebook? It sounded silly. A smirk lightened his face, letting a bit of a deep pink colored liquid trinklered down his shin. But maybe it was why it could work? Such a little change shouldn’t have any big impact, should it? He hesitantly linked the number to the first empty notebook he managed to locate, doubling it. A small burst of electricity made him jump backwards. A faint burned smell arose from one of his scarf’s ribbons.

He was never going to try a stunt like that again. Nope. Not worth the risk.

To his surprise, it worked.

His notebook looked the same, seemingly old and boring from the exterior and bursting of colors and life inside. It was when he decided to flip it hat he noticed the difference. As he wanted, the available space had doubled!

Quick to the task, he eagerly wrote a few welcoming words to these brand new pages, directly jumping over the previously last three pages.

He hummed happily while doodling a few flowers and stars with his bright pink pen. It was sadly his only pen left. He then put the thing aside and yawned. Just how long did he work on that? Stupid question as his sense of time went flying through the window ages ago.

He was utterly exhausted! A nap would be more than welcome.

He didn’t nap.

Because as he was rubbing his eye sockets, he had seen something that made him more awake than ever.

On the paper, right underneath his last doodle, was written in a shaky handwriting he didn’t recognize:

Hello?

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So, should I continue ? :D

Part 2!

Geno!Sans belongs to @loverofpiggies

Pink!Geno is mine

Tagging some who could be interested since I usually tag them on CDTT: @dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont @zu-is-here

I completly forgot to tag @diofasolia who was the only person aware I was writing that XD

#chapter 1 #Oopsie daisy #pink!Geno #Orchid #well he doesn't use that name yet in this chap'#I thought a lot about that idea #if I continue it I wonder if I should include #other pink versions in it #like pink!Dream and pink!Reaper etc #if I do I'd ask the permission #also every chapter with Orchid would be titled with a flower pun because I say so

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