#gelatin skeletons in the fridge

[jimahalangel]

Gelatin Skeleton

Summary:

Apparently the multiverse doesn't need your permission to Isekai you. It doesn't even have to give you the courtesy of letting you know it happened.

…

Undertale is gone, like it never existed.

…

You would know—you've looked.

…

"Wait- so you're telling me the void ate my universe? I'm living the weirdest 'I survived' book?!! Introducing to scholastic book fairs everywhere: 'I survived the destruction of the universe when the void decided to get all schlorpy schlorpy!?'"

…

"I am unfortunately fully aware of what information your universe had in the way of… fanfiction about my friends and family-"

...

Notes:

Formatting is better on AO3 (italicized font and such)

Update schedule: AO3 will get new chapters earlier (probably about a day) than Tumblr. (Aiming for once a week, on Thursdays or Fridays - not set in stone)

Link to read on AO3:

Chapter 1: Wikipedia, my beloved.

(read chapter 2 here)

Going to sleep in one universe and waking up in another sounds like the kind of thing people would write about in various types of fiction. Because it is . It's such a prevalent trope that it has its own genre: Isekai .

As defined by Wikipedia, "Isekai, ( Japanese: 異世界, transl. "different world" or "otherworld") is a genre of speculative fiction—both portal fantasy and science fiction are included. It includes novels, light novels, films, manga, anime and video games that revolve around a displaced person or people who are transported to and have to survive in another world, such as a fantasy world, virtual world, or parallel universe. Isekai is one of the most popular genres of anime, and Isekai stories share many common tropes…"

You'd think someone would notice being Isekai-d; that you might feel different upon waking up in a world where things are changed in new and mysterious ways—perhaps feel empowered? Surely when one is suddenly transported into another reality, they might remember the day it happened?

Apparently the multiverse doesn't need your permission to Isekai you. It doesn't even have to give you the courtesy of letting you know it happened.

Or, well, you think this is another universe, at least? Because an entire chunk of internet-culture/pop-culture was missing when you went to Google it yesterday.

Is missing.

Still.

Undertale is gone, like it never existed. You would know—you've looked.

It's not like years' worth of memes and fanfiction and fanart pertaining to a game that changed the entire gaming industry could just up and disappear out of nowhere, could it?! But you can't find any sign of it anywhere online or offline—and you definitely had physical evidence.

You'd stayed up all night last night searching for a single trace of the game and fandom you'd spent years of your life looking toward for comfort and entertainment. You’d looked everywhere.

But it's gone.

All of it.

Everything.

It's impossible.

There has to be an explanation.

Which brings you to your current Isekai theory: Maybe it's not gone— you are. You might be somewhere new where it never existed in the first place.

Either that or your brain is really majorly messed up and created an alarmingly huge chunk of false memories.

.... Actually… How long has Undertale been missing for you?

Has this happened before and you just can't remember it?

You check your search history. Nothing about Undertale before yesterday. Which is definitely strange because you'd been on AO3 looking through Undertale tags two weeks ago. And there's no need to delete your search history when you live alone. Your most recent search history from right before your rabbit hole yesterday is still the same Wikipedia article you remember reading.

Strange.

So Undertale being wiped from the face of the Earth must've happened sometime in the past two weeks.

You check the Google search trends for the words, 'Undertale' and 'Meglovania,' among several other words and phrases more unique to the game and fandom than 'Sans,' and 'Papyrus.' You want to get to the bottom of this, but you're pretty sure those character names won't get you any closer to an answer with how common they are to describe non-Undertale related things.

It's somehow not a surprise to you when search trends show that exactly zero people are looking for the answers you are.

Okay, so that kicks the possibility of finding anyone else who remembers Undertale.

You check search trends for 'alternate reality,' 'alternate universe,' and 'alternate dimension,' and you also open up a separate tab to the Wikipedia article for 'Isekai.'

It seems like there's definitely a good amount of search queries related to each term, but upon further inspection, they're mostly about isekai anime and tv shows like Dr Who.

Not really all that helpful, but maybe when you're not dealing with the real-world issues of dimensional travel you can take a break and watch the ones that seem interesting.

You bookmark a few articles that seem to be about actual science and not sci-fi media, but besides scientific papers and articles misquoting those same scientific papers, you've hit a dead end. You turn your attention towards finding discussion posts or forums on the topic —Maybe something on Reddit?

…..

Okay, nope.

You're not going to have much luck bringing in other people to help you with this unless you're looking to end up institutionalized. Not that there's any shame in that, but you don't think it'd help you much in this particular situation.

Man, you are really hoping for your Isekai theory to ring true. Otherwise, you're SOL with no way of finding out what's going on here. You feel like that guy who had to rewrite all the Beatles songs from memory in that one movie. What was it called? Yesterday?

Not that you think you could reproduce any of the content you remember about Undertale.

No, you definitely couldn't, especially not the game itself. You aren't a one-man game dev team, and the idea of trying to profit off someone else's ideas like that makes you feel slimy. Even if you're in an alternate dimension or if your brain actually came up with everything and created false memories, you couldn't bring yourself to claim what you feel is someone else's intellectual property. You'll just have to quietly remember on your own and create fan-content privately from now on. That thought makes you feel kind of alone…

You push that down and bottle it up for future you to deal with. Right now you need to determine how and why this happened through some gentle research. No need to end up on any government watchlists.

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 10: Delinquent Halloween

Octavia & Raven (pre-Octaven?) + Delinquents, Modern AU, ~850 words

A belated Halloween ficlet for @octaviaxreyes, who asked for Raven and Octavia as roommates throwing the Halloween Party of the Century, about a century ago, when I was taking Halloween prompts. Anyway, a third of the way through November, I wrote this short thing.

*

Plans for the Halloween party begin almost a year in advance, when Octavia buys up a closet's worth of Halloween decorations on clearance in November. Raven does not entirely believe her, when she says that next year's bash will reach new and epic levels—until she opens the closet and a life-sized plastic skeleton falls out and hits her in the face.

Then she is all in.

Raven takes over the task of decorating, while Octavia is in charge of food and drinks. For several weeks, as Raven transforms the apartment into a haunted cemetery—with plastic gravestones, low light and flickering candles, and scattered pumpkins and skeleton parts—no one is even allowed to visit them, lest something of the ultimate surprise be ruined. Only Bellamy is granted entrance, enlisted to help put up fake cobwebs across the higher surfaces.

"I hope you recognize the irony here," he says, as he stretches up on his toes to reach the top of the bookcase. "Usually, you're asking me to help you get rid of spider webs—"

The step stool wobbles beneath him, and Octavia takes a half-step forward, arms stretched out on instinct to catch him. Raven just tilts her head to the side.

"I'd think this would be easier," she says. "Less sticky."

Bellamy just grunts. He has the cobweb arranged just so, reaches out his hand so Raven can hand him a plastic spider for the center. "So what are you two going as?" he asks.

"Sonny and Cher," Octavia answers brightly.

"A mermaid and a pirate," Raven corrects.

"Cinderella and Prince Charming."

"The Golden Girls."

Bellamy shoots them a look over his shoulder, wary and not amused. "There are four Golden Girls," he says.

"Clarke and Harper are the other two," Raven answers.

Bellamy's brow furrows. He takes a long moment to reply, as if trying to work out a difficult problem in his head. But when he speaks it is with confidence and authority. "Clarke is not dressing up as a Golden Girl."

Raven and Octavia stare him down, Octavia's eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you sure?" she asks slowly.

Bellamy breaks their staring contest first, shaking his head and reaching for another spider. "You two play the worst mind games."

Their actual costumes, they have already decided, will remain as much a secret as the final decor of their apartment, until Halloween night itself.

An hour before the party, they prop the life-sized skeleton in front of the fridge, as a guard. Raven sets up a tripwire in front of the entrance, so that every time the door is opened, thunder booms and a few bars of eerie entrance music play. Octavia agrees with her that this is a genius plan, although it backfires a little when several guests arrive one after the other, and mangled organ notes overlap with half-formed thunderclaps.

But that's all right. The skeleton frightens at least three guests, and Octavia's gelatin eyeballs are a hit. Even Bellamy is surprised at the extent that their humble little two bedroom has been transformed.

Raven is content. On one side of the room, Monty and Jasper—both in blue Star Trek uniforms, Jasper with silly pointed ears—are downing shots of punch as if they thought it were spiked. (She makes a mental note to herself, to make sure it is not spiked.) On the other, Clarke and Miller are discussing the relative successes of their costumes. Miller is dressed all in black and calling himself a cat burglar. Clarke is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but, she says, "I feel like no one gets it."

"You just need a vampire to slay," Miller answers, shrugging. "I hear Bellamy is one."

"Bellamy is Nosferatu," Clarke answers.

"Right. A vampire."

"Different type of—you know what, never mind."

On the dance floor, in the space where their couch and coffee table used to be, Murphy is twirling Emori around, sending out stray bits of straw from her scarecrow outfit. He is dressed in flannel and fake reading glasses, and asking everyone to call him Bellamy, to the real Bellamy’s chagrin—Raven already knows this is Octavia's favorite costume of the night. For her part, she thinks Harper makes a beautiful mermaid.

She’s is on her way to the kitchen when Octavia rushes up to her side, curling her arm through Raven's arm. Raven raises her eyebrows at her. "Are the ghosts coming to get you?" she asks, deadpan, and Octavia just rolls her eyes and gives Raven's arm a squeeze.

"People only get my costume if I'm standing next to you," she says.

Raven gives her a once-over. "It's obvious enough to me, Lydia."

"Yeah, to you, Beetlejuice." She pretends to brush a bit of dirt off the shoulder of Raven's moldy pinstripe suit. "Murphy asked me if I was being myself at fourteen."

"Oh, hilarious."

"I told him he could eat worms."

Raven glances into the kitchen. The skeleton, propped up against the refrigerator door, and only vaguely visible as translucent plastic bone, gleaming in the dark, seems to stare back at her with a wicked grin.

"I think," she answers, "that that could be arranged."

[the-fan-behind-the-curtian]

Grillstertember “In the Past”

It’s a little late, but I finished the Grillster fic! You can read it on ao3, or here under the cut. Hope none of ya’ll are lactose intolerant because it’s a cheesy one with a side of angst!

Time is nonexistent in the void. What might feel like a minute in the cutting darkness, could be months in the Underground. So Gaster makes sure that he checks on the timelines as often as possible. Once he found the strength in his fractured soul, he decided to visit a loved one. The forgotten doctor emerged from a wall in Waterfall. His form unstable and viable to none.

It seemed to be a quiet day in the Underground. Monsters strolling through the blue glowing grass, having hushed conversations with each other in the rain, or silently watching the starry-rocks twinkle above. It warmed the old man’s soul as he moved his gelatinous body westward. It wasn’t long before rain gave way to fog and snow. In Snowdin the children ran about, and sometime through, Gaster. Mingled with the cold air came the familiar smell of fried food. The mysterious monster approached the building, and gazed through the frosted window. There inside he found the bar’s namesake, and the love of his life. An amusing memory began playing in the front of Gaster mind as he watched his fire mix drinks. It was the memory of when he first met the elemental.

In the past Gaster lived alone in Waterfall studying echo flowers, and working on his royal science projects. This new project would do wonders for the Underground. Giving everyone the power to use electricity, instead of having to rely on one’s own magic. With a project this important in his hands, Gaster made sure there was nothing that got in the way of him and completion. Save for mind-numbing hunger and an empty fridge. Reluctantly the young scientist left his house to see the new restaurant in Snowdin.

It wasn’t hard to find due to the crowd surrounding the place. Normally Gaster would greet someone, but his head was too foggy from the hunger to start a conversation. Instead he weaved his bony frame passed the people, and to the door. Once inside Gaster found that there was no line. Maybe they were done with their food, or just wanted to see the new establishment. Either way, the skeleton was thankful for it.

Gaster slumped on an empty stool, though he wished he had the energy to be attentive. After being handed a menu, Gaster put it close to his face and tried to read. “Tried” being the keyword. Was he that sleep deprived too? Or was it bad handwriting? “WHAT ARE FRIES?” he accidentally said out loud.

“Did you say something?” Huh, someone heard him.

Gaster turned to the monster and signed, “Do you know what ‘fries’ are?”

“Oh!” the bird-monster smiled. “It’s a new thing from the surface. They’re really good.” Then with more concern in their voice, “Are you okay?”

Gaster gave an unconvincing, sleepy smile. “Perfectly okay.”

The bird-monster nodded, “Riiight. Hey, Grillby! An order of fries!” They turned to Gaster, “You look too tired to order anything.”

Gaster began to protest, but stopped when a glowing hand gave him a plate full of hot fries. Instead he quickly nodded a thanks before digging in. Halfway through practically inhaling the fried potatoes, Gaster noticed the orange glow again. For the first time he looked up at the owner of said glow and--

Hot.

Being an elemental made of fire, the monster on the other side of the counter was, indeed, very hot. Gaster felt his cheekbones turn lavender as he mentally screamed. The elemental handed him a bottle of ketchup, but Gaster couldn’t move his gaze from the monster’s amber face.

Again the fire-monster silently offered the bottle.

The young scientist mentally seized his senses. With fidgety hands he signed, “T-thank you! Much appreciated!” and then took the bottle with a tad-too-wide smile.

He watched with lavender face as the elemental nodded, then attended to another customer.

“That’s Grillby,” the bird-monster said, unaware of his internal explosion. “He’s not much for words, but makes some great food.”

Gaster said the bartender’s name in his own font. He liked the name. However Gaster liked the man more.

The memory faded, and Gaster found himself still in front of the bar. He fazed through the window, and drifted over to Grillby. The fiery-man was in the middle of serving a table. Gaster smiled contently at the sight, but the grin was quickly removed upon closer inspection of the living fire.

Grillby’s flaming eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and his fire burned a hotter yellow.

“What’s wrong?” the scientist signed out of courtesy.

Of course he didn’t get a reply. Instead Grillby returned to the counter and checked the nearby calendar.

What could be worrying him so? Gaster peered over his shoulder, and saw the date. Oh. He looked to Grillby, who was holding the side of his handsome head in confusion. I’m sorry you don’t remember. How he wished he could fill the emptied memories. Or maybe talk, or just have Grillby know that he is still with him.

In the past the two spent all their spare time together. Whether it was an elaborate date night, or just a quiet evening at the bar, they enjoyed every moment. After many months others began to think the two were already married. Some nights the fire and skeleton talked about the idea. Should they? Is it necessary? When would they have the time? But after each of these conversations the two decided that, yes, it would be nice to get married. However, due to the couple’s busy schedules, nothing was done about the matter.

After one long work day Gaster was feeling rather happy-- no, ecstatic! All systems were a go on the CORE, and power was given to the Underground. As soon as he was off the clock, Gaster teleported to Grillby’s closed bar. With a flourish of his lab coat, the scientist turned to the shining light bulb he installed the day before.

Gaster pointed from his sockets to the bulb, “Look! It’s working! What do you think?” Stars filled the eye-lights on his hopeful skull.

“… Good.” Grillby replied, happy, but unfazed by his boyfriend's spontaneous arrival.  

“It’s fantastic! After years of debating, and building, and rebuilding, and rebuilding again, it’s done! Now we can use electricity! No more torches for light! You won’t have to power your stoves with your magic anymore!”

“… Wing?”

“Yes?”

For a moment Gaster swore that he saw nervousness in Grillby’s glass-covered eyes. “…………... I’m glad.”

“Thank you.” Gaster held his metaphorical heart.

“………….. Come here.”

“What is it?” Gaster approached the counter that the fire-monster stood in front of.

Grillby took the scientist’s skeletal hand in his warm ones. Gaster felt him place something in his phalanges. The elemental removed his now yellow hands to reveal a single, silver ring.

A soft lavender touched Gaster’s cheekbones. Is he…?

He looked back to Grillby to find he was an anxious mix of yellows and blues. “…………… Wing Ding Gaster?”

“Y-yes?” The skeleton fidgeted.

“………….. We’ve been dating for a long time… And we always talked about………….. spending our futures together… but never did anything about it…. I think it’s time we changed that.”

He is! And-- now he’s on one knee! Even though he should have expected something like this to happen, the doctor found himself flustered all the same.

Gaster watched as his love’s flames turned more azure with every pause. “………….. Every time I look into your eyes… hear you laugh… see you smile… see you happy...” Grillby took a deep breath and gathered his courage. “… I want to be the cause of your happiness. So… will you--”

Before he knew what he was doing, Gaster dropped down on one knee.

Grillby gazed on in shock.

Gaster nodded his hand, “Yes.”

“… I… didn’t finish.”

The skeleton chuckled. “You didn’t have too.”

Suddenly a breath of blue fire enveloped Grillby’s beaming face. Soul overflowing with emotion, Gaster snatched a warm kiss. A few moments later Grillby pulled away, while crackling laughter popped and fizzed from his smiling mouth. Gaster pressed his ivory forehead into the cozy flames. He wanted everything to stay just like that.

As joyous as the memory was, it hurt to remember. To be the only one to remember. Too see the confused look on Grillby’s face. Gaster watched as his love spent the evening glancing at the calendar, the clock, and once he even checking his pocket for his wallet. At the end of the day the elemental finished cleaning up in thought-filled silence. Then came the lights, and finally the door. Gaster tried to touch Grillby’s shoulder. His heart tore as his hand fazed through.

There was a click of the key, followed by a frosted sigh.

“…………… I think… I’m forgetting something.”

Hey, I wrote something for a ship for once in my life. And I had a lot of fun writing it. Hoped you liked reading it too!

@valorousowl

[jimahalangel]

It's been a bit, but here's

Gelatin Skeleton

Chapter 3: How does she(you) know that you love her(lucid dream)?

First > Prev > Next

It's past two in the morning when you get back to your apartment after helping your neighbors. Luckily, few people were hurt beyond a few scrapes and bruises, and only one man needed to go to the hospital for a broken bone.

In all the time you'd lived here this was probably the first time you'd actually met most of your neighbors. People are weirdly more friendly during natural disasters.

You read the news you'd tried to check before you dropped your phone during the quake and find that there's already several articles about the damage. The earthquake had a magnitude of 6.5, which doesn't mean much to you, so you instead focus on other stats available on the government website you clicked on.

"Low casualty rate estimated," okay, so that doesn't actually mean much either. How much is low? Low compared to what? Other earthquakes? You don't have much of a frame of reference here. Sure, you live close enough to see the mountains out on the horizon when looking out your window, but these are old mountains that don't get freaky with their fault-lines much anymore.

Earthquakes are rare here.

---

…………………

………………………

………………………………

……………………………………

..........

………You are……………

………………………

………………………………………………

..….where you once were not……

………………………………………………………………………

………………………

………………………………………………

………………………

…………

……….. Your consciousness begins here…….?

……………..

…..Were…….?

….............

…..were you… conscious before…?

.....................................

…….. this?........

…………

…..

……..

…..Sentient…..?....

…......

…….Maybe……

.........

……

……You….?

....

…. You do…not...

know…?...

……………………………………………

………………………

…………

…..

….Dreaming?....

……………………………………

………………………

…………

………………

………………………

…………

…..

….

Oh!

You know what dreams are!

……..

.....................

……

…..

………………………………………………

………………………

…………

….. Is?………………….is this a dream…?

……………………

…………………….

You think so…..

…….

But you are…

... aware?

………

..aware...

... of your thoughts?

…

……. Is that normal?......

…

……….

…….To dream…?

………

……….………………………………………………

………………………

…………

………………

……… and be lucid?.......

…

Ah.

Lucid dreaming.

Silly you.

You're

dreaming…….

…………

….…… but?

you……….………………………

………

……………………………………….. control?…….………………………

…..

.……………………………………………………

……….the dream…..

…..

…………………………………………………………………………

……………………………

………………………………………………………………………

…And…?

Here you are!

In the darkness.

…..

Everything is dark.

Was it dark when you went to sleep?

Yes.

It was dark…

And

something else?...

What was it?

What else was there besides the darkness?

It felt different than this place does.

Warmer.

It's cold here.

Peaceful, though…

…

………..

…………………………………

…..Where were you before?

Hmm…

Huh….

Oh.

Home.

You were home before.

But…?

… This?

This is home, too…….

Isn't it?

…………

Yes.

This is

also

Home.

------

The next morning you wake up slowly. You don't think you've ever woken up this calmly to an alarm before in your life.

It's nice.

Your whole body feels like ice, though.

But your bed is soft and cozy underneath you. And your blankets are warm around you. 

……How???...

Whatever.

You're just happy to snuggle back into them after pressing snooze on your phone.

----

When you next wake up it's with a start. Your heart is racing, body's covered in sweat, and your alarm is blaring its obnoxious little tune.

Yeah, that's more like the way you usually wake up.

Your phone says it's 9:40am, which is kind of a late start to a workday. You remember hitting snooze- gee, thanks past you ! 

You also remember waking up from a weirdly nice(?) dream. You can't quite recall what it was about anymore, though… 

Well, it couldn't have been that important if you forgot about it!

You probably have time for a quick shower before you have to start work today. You're glad you work remotely; you'd probably have a hard time trying to commute after that earthquake yesterday.

!!!

Oh fuck! The earthquake!!

[jimahalangel]

Chapter 2 is here!

As always, I recommend reading it on AO3, but it'll always be available here on Tumblr as well (under the read more)

(⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ💕

Gelatin Skeleton

Chapter 2: Let's not get ahead of ourselves here

First > Next

The well of information about alternate realities runs dry a lot faster than you'd originally expected. Just a few months of diligent study in your free time, and you'd hit the bottom of your deep dive. Everything you'd found about the multiverse theory (as you'd found it to be called) was entirely theoretical and, while interesting, not really helpful besides giving you the language to describe what you think happened. You also were unable to narrow down the timeframe of when you could've possibly slipped through realities any further than you had that first night.

Your best guess—no, actually you've earned a bit of self-respect— your very scientific theory would be that the reality "membranes" separating your original universe and this one were thin in exactly the right spots at exactly the right time for them to connect when they touched for a brief moment. Almost like two soap bubbles bouncing into one another and nearly becoming one, before being separated again by some cosmic breeze. Two universes separated by the thinnest barrier, but still connected just enough to-- in that instant-- let you pass through without noticing.

How many people step through the "membranes" of their bubbles of reality and have their lives permanently changed without noticing? How many times has it happened to you before this one? Is every Mandela effect the result of people swapping realities with their alternate selves?

If it weren't for your interest in Undertale, you might not have ever noticed that you'd changed universes. You'd just live on in ignorance of a world so minutely different from the one in which you belonged.

The thought of not quite noticing the slight differences and wrongness of being in another reality scares you. You have to hold onto the hope that you're not completely alone. That somewhere the answer is out there, just waiting for you to find it. There has to be a way back to your universe.

---

After three months of study that ultimately got you no closer to finding any answers and really only worsened your mental health, your tiny apartment looked ridiculous. Floor to ceiling, the walls were covered in sticky-notes, red string, and numerous thumbtacks.

It was disheartening to have put in so much effort only to hit a dead end. You still had no way of testing if your theory was correct— and no way of proving it wrong.

Three months down the drain with nothing to show for it except for a newfound interest in theoretical physics and the knowledge that you wouldn't be getting your safety deposit back unless you were keen on learning your way around some spackle for the holes in your drywall.

You wonder if there’s some sort of spackle equivalent for holes in reality.

--

You reheat your leftovers from yesterday's lunch for dinner today in the old microwave. The one you really couldn't spare the funds to get replaced because it technically still works -- even though you could only use it for 30 seconds at a time without it shooting sparks into your food.

God, three months wasted on a dumb game that doesn't even really matter anymore. Something that only you can remember. And now?

Just more time wasted in front of your microwave, hovering over the controls so that the whole apartment building wouldn't burn down and you'd get to eat a hot meal.

Everything is a waste of time. Here you are, wasting away into a pile of human sludge and slipping through realities. But what can you do besides waste time?

What does anything you do today matter if tomorrow you could be in a universe where the Earth's a fucking cube?! Maybe you should let your microwave expl-

Rumble-!!

Crash!!

Hold on! The world is shaking apart, no time for existential dread!

Bang!!

You pull yourself up from the kitchen floor where you'd fallen, and slam your hand on the stop button on your sparking, angry microwave.

You wrack your brain for what earthquake safety protocols you remember. Sliding under the table, phone in hand, you duck your head just in time for the next round of shaking and loud crashes. You're pretty sure you can hear screaming from the other tenants and the sound of breaking glass.

You fumble for your phone in your pocket to check the news, but it slips from your grasp and lands face down with a loud Crack!

Shit!

That didn’t sound good!

Another rumble echoes from all around you, and as the building shakes again, so does your heart.

Then the lights go out.

----

Okay! Okay. This is fine!

Rumble!

Crunch!

Smash!

The sound of the building falling apart all around you is all you can hear.

You take it back! This is not fine!

The ground beneath you is solid ice and you can feel the grit of debris biting into your knees through your jeans. You can't see anything.

It's - it's so dark!

You curl in on yourself tighter. Your hands tighten their grip around table legs. They tingle and your fingertips feel soft and physically blurry.

Hhhhhaaaahhh Oh hell!

It's getting hard to breathe and your heart is beating so furiously that it hurts.

Okay, breathe. Just-

You know you have to try to calm down-- you know you do! But-

"Fuck!"

-but knowing doesn’t make the panic go away.

You're shaking and the snot bubbling out of your nose isn't helping your short hiccuping gasps for air.

Your cheeks are hot; they burn where your tears trail down them. Black splotches crowd your vision, and your lungs feel heavy, like they're full of water.

You feel like you're drowning.

….

……

…………

…..

….. Hey….

……

……

…..Hey!

……..

Can you hear me?

……….

……

Listen to my voice.

…….

Breathe in.

Slow.

You're okay.

……

Yeah okay, that's right. You're okay, just- just-

You're coming back to yourself. Your chest feels so heavy.

So, so heavy, but…

… it's getting a little lighter.

Breathe out.

Slowly.

It gets easier with each breath.

Breathe in.

It's going to be okay.

Breathe out.

You're here. You are safe.

Just keep breathing, slow.

---

You've never been great at talking yourself down from panic attacks, so you don't know how you managed that all alone, but you're thankful anyway.

You are welcome, my dear.

You feel a pleasant warmth radiate outward from your chest, and can't help but feel like you're… missing something?

But you can't put your finger on what it could be.

You wait out the rest of the major aftershocks beneath your table in the dark, not daring to venture out for your phone until you’re sure you wouldn't be knocked off your feet by the tremors.

People stopped screaming just about the time the power went out — you can’t tell whether or not that's a good sign, but the sound of things crashing and breaking stopped around the same time, so everything can’t be too royally fucked.

…Unless? Is the earthquake a sign that reality is tearing itself apart by the seams?

You have no idea what you'll do if that's the case, but waiting under a table alone in a dark room won't help anyone.

Dinner completely forgotten in the microwave, you hasten to find your shoes and get out the front door. As you reach said door though, you remember that your phone is still somewhere in your kitchen.

You curse under your breath and turn back towards the pitch black apartment-turned-obstacle-course. You probably could've avoided banging your limbs against toppled furniture if you'd thought to pick it up to use as a flashlight in the first place.

You carefully pick your way through the mess back to your kitchen. When you check your phone you find what was probably the source of the cracking noise you’d heard when it hit the floor. The screen protector had a few cracks spider-webbing out from just above the charge port.

Sigh.

You're glad your phone is operational, at least, because without its flashlight you definitely would've tripped and fallen in the mess of drywall, brick, and other debris just outside your door. You don't want to add yourself to the number of injured throughout the building instead of helping.

That would be embarrassing.

[jimahalangel]

Wavey Dimensional Pancakes

Notes:

The multiverse theory explained by highschool me (circa 2016)

---- or:

The multiverse theory discussed in a bit more detail than my Undertale fic(Gelatin Skeleton); courtesy of my Google drive, which is a place where nothing gets deleted.

Ever.

Aka: a paper I wrote in 2016 for school. Entirely unedited from how I turned it in besides that it's missing a few graphics and a video presentation.

I think I used to be in love with commas; there are so many run on sentences lol.

I guess I can't judge too hard though. I think I just traded the quirk of too many commas for too many ellipses and semicolons.

We use physics to understand the cosmos, our place in it, and how it all works, but there is a problem that is constant in physics. There is no unified theory, or set of rules that applies to everything. What we have applies to subatomic particles or larger bodies of matter; the rules that govern one do not apply to the other. Logic and scientific law implies that something is missing. However, when the existence of multiverses is considered, everything changes.

The very first recorded mention of the multiverse theory was in Dublin, Ireland, in the year 1952. Erwin Schrodinger jovially mentioned the idea to his audience during a lecture he was giving on his Nobel Equations, which govern quantum physics. At first he was hesitant to talk about his idea, as he himself stated that it might ‘seem lunatic,’ but he soon launched into an in depth explanation of how exactly he had thought of the concept. His equations all had different histories that were recorded happening simultaneously. At first he thought that they were just alternative outcomes that had occurred separately, but as he examined the data, he found it to be coetaneous. The attendees to Erwin’s lecture didn’t believe him at first, some even thought he was crazy, but eventually there were some who warmed up to the idea. Soon everyone had their own ideas and theories, though most wanted to disprove Erwin Schrodinger’s. Einstein’s theory of relativity no longer was the ‘cure all’ for physics. It did not apply to subatomic particles, and so there was a call for something that did. Quantum mechanics seemed to fit the bill, but it only worked on subatomic particles. As more was discovered in each field, more evidence was found which alluded to the existence of multiple universes. They also found more evidence that proved our existence to be highly improbable.

Stephen Hawking said that statistically life shouldn’t exist in our universe unless it is one of many others. A planet would need to be in the “Goldilocks zone,” have the right ratio of elements, and a strong enough gravitational field to hold its atmosphere, in order for life to form. All of this is extremely unlikely to occur on one single planet, however if there are a large amount of planets in our universe, and a near infinite number of universes that exist on the same plane of reality, in the same space and at the same time, it is statistically guaranteed that at least one of these planets would have life. Stephen Hawking also explained that, because scientists easily found how our universe was created, but could not find how life was able to form, the only reasonable explanation would be that life itself is ‘an accident’. By chance, a few molecules out of all the multiverses bumped into each other, and copied themselves, creating the first form of life. Our universe just happened to be the one that gave matter the right conditions, and enough time to create the correct molecular combinations to form life.

It is difficult to understand how a multiverse would work, or what it is. There are many different ways that multiverses have been explained to help people understand theories like Hawking’s theory of evolution. Dr. Michio Kaku is one of the main experts on the multiverse theory. He describes our universe as a soap bubble among thousands of others, and the different universes can each split into smaller bubbles. Dr. Kaku says that every now and then, maybe every couple thousand years, these soap bubbles bump into each other, causing phenomena that can’t be explained any other way. An example of such phenomena would be when scientists are observing atoms, and some of them suddenly blip out of existence only to come back moments later. One possible explanation is that they have transferred to another universe. The questions that can’t be answered quite yet are: Where do they go? Why do they disappear? How does all of this happen? The theory of multiple universes seems to hold the answer. Dr. Kaku’s bubble metaphor is not the only idea of how multiverses might work.

Other scientists, such as physicist Brian Greene, prefer the membrane metaphor. With this metaphor, each universe is a membrane laid parallel to another. Favored by string theorists, it describes how a subatomic particle could potentially leave our ‘membrane’ and interact with others. This metaphor is different from Dr. Michio Kaku’s, in that it deals more with the activities of particles than interactions between entire systems. In order to find these metaphors, one has to think outside the bubble, so to speak. There has to be an explanation as to how universes would interact with one another, a description of proximity, and something for the metaphors to explain, otherwise the explanation is insubstantial. In most cases these metaphors are used entirely to help a person visualize something that cannot be seen, like multiverses. Because multiverses aren’t concrete things we can touch, see, feel, or even really prove to exist, metaphors that meet criteria are essential to understand the concept.

Understanding the concept is the key to finding the missing scientific and mathematical proofs that explain the bridge between quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity. Proving the existence and laws defining the behavior of the multiverse would fill in the gaps in our understanding of the cosmos. Though we don’t have all the answers yet, Schrodinger’s crazy idea, Hawking’s theory of evolution, and the metaphors physicists are using to explain multiverses have given future generations a starting point. Without the theory of the multiverse, there is no connection between what we know now and the solution to the problems still unsolved.

[jimahalangel]

alright... okay lol

Thank you to my 3 voters who each have a different opinion on this

Now that cleared up just about..... nothing :)

There's this one specific bit of Gelatin Skeleton where the reader realizes the cast of Undertale are real people and uhhhhh do we care????

Do you, dear reader, give a shit?

So far the answer is equally yes- in two directions, love that and hate that- and no, you don't.

Data needed!

[jimahalangel]

Trying to understand the multiverse theory like:

"THE SOAP BUBBLES! THEY'RE LIKE MEMBRANES BETWEEN UNIVERSES!"

Chapter 2 is here!

As always, I recommend reading it on AO3, but it'll always be available here on Tumblr as well (under the read more)

(⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ💕

Gelatin Skeleton

Chapter 2: Let's not get ahead of ourselves here

The well of information about alternate realities runs dry a lot faster than you'd originally expected. Just a few months of diligent study in your free time, and you'd hit the bottom of your deep dive. Everything you'd found about the multiverse theory (as you'd found it to be called) was entirely theoretical and, while interesting, not really helpful besides giving you the language to describe what you think happened. You also were unable to narrow down the timeframe of when you could've possibly slipped through realities any further than you had that first night.

Your best guess—no, actually you've earned a bit of self-respect— your very scientific theory would be that the reality "membranes" separating your original universe and this one were thin in exactly the right spots at exactly the right time for them to connect when they touched for a brief moment. Almost like two soap bubbles bouncing into one another and nearly becoming one, before being separated again by some cosmic breeze. Two universes separated by the thinnest barrier, but still connected just enough to-- in that instant-- let you pass through without noticing.

How many people step through the "membranes" of their bubbles of reality and have their lives permanently changed without noticing? How many times has it happened to you before this one? Is every Mandela effect the result of people swapping realities with their alternate selves?

If it weren't for your interest in Undertale, you might not have ever noticed that you'd changed universes. You'd just live on in ignorance of a world so minutely different from the one in which you belonged.

The thought of not quite noticing the slight differences and wrongness of being in another reality scares you. You have to hold onto the hope that you're not completely alone. That somewhere the answer is out there, just waiting for you to find it. There has to be a way back to your universe.

---

After three months of study that ultimately got you no closer to finding any answers and really only worsened your mental health, your tiny apartment looked ridiculous. Floor to ceiling, the walls were covered in sticky-notes, red string, and numerous thumbtacks.

It was disheartening to have put in so much effort only to hit a dead end. You still had no way of testing if your theory was correct— and no way of proving it wrong.

Three months down the drain with nothing to show for it except for a newfound interest in theoretical physics and the knowledge that you wouldn't be getting your safety deposit back unless you were keen on learning your way around some spackle for the holes in your drywall.

You wonder if there’s some sort of spackle equivalent for holes in reality.

--

You reheat your leftovers from yesterday's lunch for dinner today in the old microwave. The one you really couldn't spare the funds to get replaced because it technically still works -- even though you could only use it for 30 seconds at a time without it shooting sparks into your food.

God, three months wasted on a dumb game that doesn't even really matter anymore. Something that only you can remember. And now?

Just more time wasted in front of your microwave, hovering over the controls so that the whole apartment building wouldn't burn down and you'd get to eat a hot meal.

Everything is a waste of time. Here you are, wasting away into a pile of human sludge and slipping through realities. But what can you do besides waste time?

What does anything you do today matter if tomorrow you could be in a universe where the Earth's a fucking cube?! Maybe you should let your microwave expl-

Rumble-!!

Crash!!

Hold on! The world is shaking apart, no time for existential dread!

Bang!!

You pull yourself up from the kitchen floor where you'd fallen, and slam your hand on the stop button on your sparking, angry microwave.

You wrack your brain for what earthquake safety protocols you remember. Sliding under the table, phone in hand, you duck your head just in time for the next round of shaking and loud crashes. You're pretty sure you can hear screaming from the other tenants and the sound of breaking glass.

You fumble for your phone in your pocket to check the news, but it slips from your grasp and lands face down with a loud Crack!

Shit!

That didn’t sound good!

Another rumble echoes from all around you, and as the building shakes again, so does your heart.

Then the lights go out.

----

Okay! Okay. This is fine!

Rumble!

Crunch!

Smash!

The sound of the building falling apart all around you is all you can hear.

You take it back! This is not fine!

The ground beneath you is solid ice and you can feel the grit of debris biting into your knees through your jeans. You can't see anything.

It's - it's so dark!

You curl in on yourself tighter. Your hands tighten their grip around table legs. They tingle and your fingertips feel soft and physically blurry.

Hhhhhaaaahhh Oh hell!

It's getting hard to breathe and your heart is beating so furiously that it hurts.

Okay, breathe. Just-

You know you have to try to calm down-- you know you do! But-

"Fuck!"

-but knowing doesn’t make the panic go away.

You're shaking and the snot bubbling out of your nose isn't helping your short hiccuping gasps for air.

Your cheeks are hot; they burn where your tears trail down them. Black splotches crowd your vision, and your lungs feel heavy, like they're full of water.

You feel like you're drowning.

….

……

…………

…..

….. Hey….

……

……

…..Hey!

……..

Can you hear me?

……….

……

Listen to my voice.

…….

Breathe in.

Slow.

You're okay.

……

Yeah okay, that's right. You're okay, just- just-

You're coming back to yourself. Your chest feels so heavy.

So, so heavy, but…

… it's getting a little lighter.

Breathe out.

Slowly.

It gets easier with each breath.

Breathe in.

It's going to be okay.

Breathe out.

You're here. You are safe.

Just keep breathing, slow.

---

You've never been great at talking yourself down from panic attacks, so you don't know how you managed that all alone, but you're thankful anyway.

You are welcome, my dear.

You feel a pleasant warmth radiate outward from your chest, and can't help but feel like you're… missing something?

But you can't put your finger on what it could be.

You wait out the rest of the major aftershocks beneath your table in the dark, not daring to venture out for your phone until you’re sure you wouldn't be knocked off your feet by the tremors.

People stopped screaming just about the time the power went out — you can’t tell whether or not that's a good sign, but the sound of things crashing and breaking stopped around the same time, so everything can’t be too royally fucked.

…Unless? Is the earthquake a sign that reality is tearing itself apart by the seams?

You have no idea what you'll do if that's the case, but waiting under a table alone in a dark room won't help anyone.

Dinner completely forgotten in the microwave, you hasten to find your shoes and get out the front door. As you reach said door though, you remember that your phone is still somewhere in your kitchen.

You curse under your breath and turn back towards the pitch black apartment-turned-obstacle-course. You probably could've avoided banging your limbs against toppled furniture if you'd thought to pick it up to use as a flashlight in the first place.

You carefully pick your way through the mess back to your kitchen. When you check your phone you find what was probably the source of the cracking noise you’d heard when it hit the floor. The screen protector had a few cracks spider-webbing out from just above the charge port.

Sigh.

You're glad your phone is operational, at least, because without its flashlight you definitely would've tripped and fallen in the mess of drywall, brick, and other debris just outside your door. You don't want to add yourself to the number of injured throughout the building instead of helping.

That would be embarrassing.