I wanted to write a Celestial - fic, but didn't know what world to put it in, or how to handle a plot that could twist into something brand new with a single roll. So, I decided to just do it, rolled for which Celestial Doc I'd use, rolled for the starting world (because universe jumping can't be that uncommon in these things), and started writing during my breaks from doing uni coursework.

Rolls will be displayed at the end of every chapter. I might dedicate a chapter to rolls every so often. Might not.

Doc used is Celestial Menagerie V5.0

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Chapter 1: Breaking out of the afterlife

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Falling. I felt weightless as everything was falling around me. There had been a bang and a shock before everything started falling apart. My conversation with my wife paused as I froze mid-sentence, something in me screaming that something was wrong.

And then I hit the ground, and all I could think was, 'Sorry, Tori, Anne… I'm gonna make you cry again'.

[-]

I suddenly regained consciousness in the middle of a descriptionless room, several shifting figures stopping what they were doing to stare at me. One of them that seemed to prefer male physical characteristics jumped from a chair and raised a hand that shifted from pale skin to dark and back again.

"Intruder!"

"How did she get in?" I wondered, ignoring the ominous lights that sprang forth from the figure's hands. "In-tru-der window?"

I ducked as one of those lights filled the space where my head once occupied, grabbing a nearby chair and chucking it at the arsehole who tried blasting me. The resulting sound wasn't something I could describe, but the yelling was enough to tell me that I hit my target. I didn't see it happen myself since I had turned and started sprinting down some kind of hallway.

The afterlife, as I guessed this place was, was strange to navigate. There were no signs, nor laws of physics that made sense. I ran down one corridor, hit a dead end, turned around, and proceeded to run up a vertical wall. Then I ran through the ceiling, jumped, and found myself in a new room.

This one was full of more people, but these ones didn't immediately jump into attacking me. Instead, I moved over to a desk, accessed the computer (without a mouse, keyboard, or touchscreen), and looked for familiar names.

Mum's fine. She's catching up with old friends from her youth. Grandparents are fine too, relaxing in some afterlife replica of their cottage. Dad was…

I blinked. Under dad's name was a note that read 'Monoma Neito *'. Clicking the star gave me the rundown of his situation.

"Ha! Dad got isekai-ed! Good on you, Dad, even if you stole my prompt!"

Knowing that, there was only one thing to do.

"There she is!"

I turned towards several shifting figures, looking all angry with their shifting faces.

"See ya, fellas!"

And in a flash of light, I was gone.

#=#

"So, not only did an error get swept into the afterlife, but you decided that the first thing to do was attack them?"

"An error was never meant to be here! It's standard protocol to-"

"Elevate the issue to the highest authority, as you do not have the required authority to make such a decision. As it is, I'm aware of this particular error, so you can return to work."

Though not without muttering and grumbling, they did make their way back to their desks, leaving their boss alone in her 'office'. Once they were gone, the boss shifted their hair to be longer so they could pull it out in frustration.

"How did she get here!? How did she access out systems!? And how in all of creation did she forcefully forge a connection with herself to facilitate a brand new reincarnation template in minutes!? THAT's not how the system works! ..." The boss sighed, slumping in their chair and faceplanting into their desk. "How can someone that was raised by that man break so many rules of reality? His reincarnation went so smoothly."

That day, after trying to fix the system so no more errors would happen, alcohol was passed around the afterlife.

#=#

What do you do when you cheat your way into being inserted into a fictional universe with an ever growing power?

I dunno. I didn't think about it before jumping ahead and skipping whatever the afterlife had planned for me. I don't even know what options I have, not having a clue where I was. The potential problems of rushing off and diving blindly into the multiverse, I suppose.

It was modern times, fortunately. Tall buildings made of bricks stood over me, with people driving cars, riding bikes, and simply walking by. People were speaking English, which made things easier for me, and a nearby stand showed newspapers that were named 'The Times'.

That narrowed it down. I was in London, England, and the year was 1993… so not perfectly modern. It had been 2063 when I died in my world, some forty years after my father had died saving Astoria's life.

Man, that had been a weird way to start a relationship. 'I'm sorry your dad died saving me. You're hot. Can I get your number? Oh wait, my phone broke in the accident. Here, have my number instead.' It wasn't quite like that, admittedly. Still, we were happily in love after getting past that slight hurdle, even if mum was never quite comfortable around her.

"Fuck," I breathed, the nature of my death hitting me heavily now that I started thinking about it. God, she was there when that building collapsed. I was on the phone with her, and she'd just said that she was waiting for me outside. "I'm sorry, Tori."

But there's nothing I could do about it now. After the strange emotional dissociation effect of the afterlife (for there was nothing else that made sense for how easily I functioned despite having just died), most things from my life seemed strangely distant, despite me living that life not ten minutes ago. I still loved Astoria, but it felt like I'd had decades to get over losing her, like how the pain of my dad's passing faded over the years. And the pain of having lost my dad was practically non-existent. Same with my mum and sister.

I sighed as I leaned against a nearby building. It felt strange to recognise your emotions being manipulated like that but, again, there's nothing I can do about it. Time to take stock of things.

I remember reading some fanfic that laid out rules for getting isekai-ed. First, determine where you are, because there are some places in the multiverse you just don't want to be. Attack on Titan is cool and all, but the risk in that world is too high. Comic book universes scale far too high to be comfortable, and going to Worm is just asking for trouble.

I didn't know where I was, but I had the afterlife send me to a world dependent on the first connection I made. That meant I'd know where I was soon.

Second, are you yourself? Some people reincarnate into named characters, like my dad did with Monoma, or even just some nameless extra that you have to work with. A glance in the window showed me my reflection, and while I hadn't seen that face in a long time, it was mine. I seemed to be starting my young adult phase. Late teens, early twenties.

Thick waves of brown hair went down to my neck, a single strip of dark green dye down the left side of my head. Lightly tanned olive skin that looked like I just came back from a holiday in some sunny place, and a small pair of silver ring earrings that I'd lost before I was thirty. My eyes were that familiar contrast, one being brown like my mum, the other being the green that made my parents change their mind about my name.

Third, are you a main character? Now, for me, a writer of fanfiction, that could mean two different things. The first is being the main character of canon, such as Skitter from Worm or Deku from MHA, or even side characters that had names like Assault or even Mineta. Second was being the main character of a fanfic, which was usually indicated by some strange circumstances or interesting powers.

For that, I did have an answer. After all, I was the one who made the prompt that I followed to be inserted into this world.

In my mind's eye, I could see myself standing in the middle of an animal pen. The gate to the pen were jolting in place, as if something was ramming into it. A thought had the gate fling open, revealing… nothing? Then I felt something I could not see literally climb up me and hang around my shoulders, before the air shimmered and I was holding a sloth-ape-like creature with large black eyes and silver fur.

I smiled, even as the gate shuddered again, but refused to open. Back in the real world, a weight settled around my shoulders, invisible, but watching.

[-]

The Celestial Menagerie, a list of creatures from across the multiverse, all available with time and luck to whichever character possesses it.

I've always wanted to write a 'Celestial -' fic, but the mechanics and inherent luck involved always put me off. So why not take a chance and live through such a fanfic myself (where I'm not the one who has to keep track of everything)? There couldn't possibly be some idiot sitting behind a laptop typing this up…

Right?

[-]

As I stepped into the dingy pub, I had to hold back from grinning like a madman. Now that the sun has set, the only light in the building were a lit fireplace at the end of the room and a few floating lamps dotted around. The whole room seemed to exist in shadows, the tables barely lit by the already mentioned lamps people were eating by.

I smiled. Despite its appearance, the place was lively. There were wizards and witches drinking happily, chatting about this and that, making me have to dodge some wild swings of peoples' mugs as I moved towards the bar. I ducked under a floating tray carrying someone's food order, followed by a drink that I could smell the alcohol in. My demiguise tugged on my hair, making me stop moving just as I was about to cross paths with a stumbling drunk.

I patted the invisible creature on his arm, mentally promising to think of a name for him, even as I rolled my eyes. It's barely been an hour since sunset, yet people are already failing to keep a clear head.

"Alright, go," I whispered as I sat down at the bar Tom was manning. I suddenly felt a fair bit lighter as by passenger disembarked and went about his mission.

My focus shifted to Tom, the bald barman that ran this place, as he leaned on the bar and smiled. "So, what can a I do you for?"

"Help navigating the Alley," I smiled a bit nervously. I didn't have any money yet, so I couldn't order anything yet. "Do you know anywhere that works with invisibility cloaks? Mainly making them?"

The man hummed, idly waving his wand and causing a finished meal to float off. "Maybe? I think Madam Malkin would have a better idea, but I remember there was a place that worked with magical clothing. It was down past Gringotts on the left, if I remember right."

"Something to look into tomorrow. Thanks," I smiled, happy that that idea might pan out. For all that I was ecstatic to jump into Harry Potter, one of my earliest indulgences of fiction, I arrived with only the clothes on my back and a potential multiversal zoo in my soul. Then my smile widened as my jacket pocket got noticeably heavier, followed by more weight settling on my back. "For an order though, bangers and mash, and a cold butterbeer." I wasn't too fond of the stuff made in my world, but that could never put me off trying the real thing now that I'm here.

"That's two galleons." I pulled my newly acquired gold coins over the bar, which he accepted with a smile. "Coming right up."

I span around on the seat, looking over the pub. It wasn't much to look at, as I mentioned before, but it was one of those things that you had to love anyway. This was the Leaky Cauldron from Harry Potter! Not a set for the movies, or something set up to mimic the aesthetic, but the actual place.

And I had a demiguise looking over my shoulder. Even if this world's magic is out of reach for me, being an outsider to this world, I was happy here. Plus, one of my other ideas involves getting to Hogwarts and talking to Dumbledore about working with the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Hagrid is a sweetheart, but the man needs a more fragile perspective on what is dangerous.

The gates in my mind shudder again but remain closed. I brush that aside and turn towards the bottle of butterbeer that Tom just placed in front of me. I take a sip, enjoying the sweet taste for only a moment before invisible hands pluck it out of mine.

I just smiled and rolled my eyes, getting Tom's attention for another bottle. The man barely raised an eyebrow at the floating butterbeer being drank by something he couldn't see.

"It won't be causing a ruckus, will it?" he asked pointedly when he delivered my replacement.

I shook my head. "He won't be having anymore, I promise. Plus, I'll keep an eye on him."

Tom glanced at the invisible creature on my back and started chuckling, getting louder when I groaned at my accidental pun.

[-]

The next day was what I considered to be my first day in the magical world. I could barely sleep despite renting a room and going to bed early, knowing that a large part of my childhood lay just outside the building. I didn't know when I finally managed it, but my dreams were filled with stars and magic.

It felt like Christmas, waking up early to rush for the tree, only to have your mum stop you and demand that you eat breakfast first. I wanted to get my first look at Diagon Alley, but my stomach was making its valid point known.

I scarfed down my food as fast as I dared and practically ran up to the bar, asking if Tom could open the barrier. Given my age and magical pet, he looked a little confused about me not being able to do it myself, even as he led me out the back of the Cauldron.

I tried not to bounce on my feet as he moved over to the wall, not wanting to knock my demiguise off of my back. Tom tapped his wand to the wall, and I just stared.

As early as it was, there weren't many people walking around, letting me see everything from here to the tall marble building straight ahead. The shops on both sides of the alley were rather colourful, with eye catching signs and displays that made my walk a very slow one.

Robes waved in windows, brooms floated from their stands, and animals made noise as I passed. There was a sign sitting outside Flourish and Blotts about some event or another, and the Daily Prophet had the moving photo of today's front page shown in their office's window. Jars of bat spleens and toad eyes were visible in the apothecary as I walked past, and the owner of that store waved as I walked by.

Then I walked by the big names. Ollivander's wand shop was a shabby place, the golden name of the shop peeling off from where it sat above the door. That was only the outward appearance though, as the window showed a cosy interior behind the velvet cushion that was displaying a visually attractive wand. I really wanted to go in and buy a wand, but while the Menagerie is magic enough for me to move through muggle-repellent magic, I was no witch.

Finally, one of the most conflicting places in all of Harry Potter fanon: Gringotts Wizarding Bank. A massive, pure white, marble building that sat smack bang in the middle of the alley, the road splitting in two to continue around it. In some stories, it's some grand, twisting civilisation for the Goblins (the most conflicting race in all of Harry Potter fanon), for they can live no place else. In others, and canon, it's… a bank.

I snorted. For all that it was pretty and imposing to look at, I had always hated banks. They never seemed to get things done efficiently whenever I visited them, so I'd taken to sending Tori in my place.

I rolled my eyes and took a left, looking for the store Tom had mentioned. Not the cauldron shop, nor the apothecary, or the wand maintenance building- aha! I had a feeling that 'Enchanting Apparel' isn't just a shop for pretty clothes.

Stepping inside, I could see mannequins rotating on the spot and striking poses, showing off dress robes, cloaks, dresses and that hat over there. God knows what's that about. There was also notes, tags, and signs for expanded pockets, animated designs, and, over in the corner, a sign for invisibility cloaks over a hanger that stood empty.

"Welcome to Enchanting Apparel," a young woman behind the counter greeted, looking only a few years older than me. "What do you need?"

I moved over to the sign. "The barman at the Cauldron pointed me over here when I asked about invisibility cloaks," I said, watching her smile and nod in understanding. "He said you make them?"

"That's right," she confirmed. Then she quickly blinked and backtracked. "Well, not me, but my granny does. I just run the shop. We order demiguise fur from China and she weaves them into cloaks." She looked proud of her gran. "I don't think I can sell you any though. The aurors have a standing order for them that we haven't met yet, since the fur comes from shedding, which is seasonal."

I reigned in my grin before I creeped her out, even as I solidified my plan in my mind and prepared for a negotiation.

"How would you like to make a deal?"

[-]

I was happy with the negotiations. Really, I was. As part of the deal, I would let them take some fur off of Echo, the Demiguise (named after the practically invisible nymph in Percy Jack- I mean, Greek Mythology), every day that summer and in return, they'd pay me half of the amount they'd spend purchasing an equal amount of demiguise fur from China and would make me an invisibility cloak for myself. They even offered to replace the cloak when its enchantments started wearing off, so long as I could prove that the invisibility was failing.

So yes, it was a good deal. The only thing wrong was that sneaking feeling that someone was laughing at me, and I knew the reason.

During the negotiations (which took a while. That granny was good), the gates in my mind shook again, this time opening to reveal, not a creature, but a magical cloak. Mostly red fabric decorated with yellow designs inside it, two seemingly golden clasps without any way to connect them.

It felt like the Menagerie was being funny, giving me access to Doctor Strange's Cloak of Levitation while talking to the owners of a magical clothing store.

Still, it was an interesting gift, even if it didn't fit with any of my more modern, non-magical style clothing. For that, I headed over to Madam Malkin's with the hopes that I could get some advice on the styles of clothing that would fit my new red cloak.

Now, I'll admit that fashion had never been a favoured gossip topic of mine. Malkin was a godsend when it came to actually finding a style of outfit that I liked, in the colours that I wanted.

Normally, I'd go for green (as it had been my colour since forever), but that didn't really fit the cloak, so I pivoted to a colour scheme I adopted when I was in my thirties, before I went back to green. I bought some teal robes, ones that reminded me more of Anakin Skywalker's robes than what wizards and witches usually wear, and cream coloured pants and leather boots.

I was quite happy with the result, thanked Madam Malkin, and went on with the next step in my plan for the day. I had a letter to write.

[-]

It was four days later that, after receiving a response from the recipient of my letter, I was sat in one of the Leaky Cauldron's few private rooms, across from a man considered by many to be the strongest wizard in the world.

Albus Dumbledore was another piece of eternal conflict within the opinions of those who read Harry Potter. The nature of the series focusing on Harry and his friends meant that the plot couldn't just be solved by competent adults, so there are many plot holes where, in universe, it would look like Dumbledore is being manipulative and sabotaging towards Harry, with no care for who he puts in danger in the process.

Hiding the Philosopher's Stone in a school guarded by traps a few first years made it past, after declaring it a way to 'die a most painful death'. Not being able to find the Chamber of Secrets when, again, a few second years found it by talking to a ghost that had been present in the castle for fifty years. Not closing the school when students were being attacked. Giving permission to use a time turner to break the law in a big way, only to then not bother using his political weight to get Sirius a trial, at minimum, and so on.

Still, that's mostly just people trying to fill in the plot holes I mentioned earlier, which then shows Albus in an ugly light. I was willing to test him, keep an eye on him, and otherwise be cautious around him, but the information from canon declared him a good man, if a secretive one, so that is who I would be expecting.

"I hope you don't mind if I skip straight to business, Miss Best," Dumbledore smiled, sipping his tea. "The school year starts up again next month, and there's a lot of paperwork I need to get through before then."

I chuckled, remembering my brief time as a teacher in my past life. "That's fine by me, Mister Dumbledore. There're two main things I didn't want to put in the letter I wrote. I heard that Kettleburn is officially retiring as the Care of Magical Creatures professor, and there are a few reasons I'd like to step away from the muggle world for a while. Getting the CoMC teaching position, or even becoming a teaching assistant, would really help me out there."

The man hummed, sipping his tea again. "Well, I'm afraid that while you are correct, and Silvanus is leaving the staff this coming year, I've already selected a replacement for him. Though, you might be able to convince me about this 'teaching assistant' position for the topic. Rubeus Hagrid loves creatures, but I'm aware of his shortcomings when it pertains to some potential dangers of them. In addition, this will be his first time teaching anything, so I don't think it'd be a bad idea for him to have someone there to help him." Another sip. "Would you mind if I asked about those reasons you mentioned? Would it have anything to do with the Demiguise under your cloak?"

I huffed, smiling as I glanced over at where Echo was using the cloak of levitation like a blanket. "Echo's one of them," I confirmed, before starting my lie. "I had to come back to the magical world when I found him, but my knowledge of this place doesn't cover much since I never learned magic. I figured I could teach people about creatures well enough though."

"Never learned… Pardon if this comes off as rude, Miss Best, but are you a squib?" Dumbledore wondered.

I nodded a confirmation and found myself looking at the gates again. They burst open once more, and I was surprised to see some kind of futuristic blaster resting in my hand like it belonged there. I moved over to the gate, holding my hand out to a tiny, red and cream coloured slug-like creature with fin-like wings on its sides.

"I see," Dumbledore continued, seemingly unaware of the new addition in the room. A 'slug', a Firenzar, poked her head out from where she was hidden under the Cloak of Levitation. "And the second reason you wanted to meet me in person?"

I actually couldn't remember, distracted by the slug, so started running through the list of things I could have wanted to tell him and removed several from the list. "Oh, right. There's a cursed object in Hogwarts that should really be destroyed as soon as possible. Aside from it being an absolutely disgusting piece of magic, I hear the room it's in is one of the better kept secrets of the castle. It's apparently quite useful."

Now he looked interested.

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Rolls:

Demiguise - Harry Potter - 100 - Name: Echo

Cloak of Levitation - Marvel (MCU version) - 200

Firenzar - Slugterra - 100 - Name: Scorch

Remaining Points: 100

A/N: Not everything will be getting names. I had only written 10k words, and I knew that that would be too tedious.

Also, I do not know the context around every creature. If I don't know something about a specific roll, I will check the wiki. Anything I can't figure out from the wiki, I might search a bit further for any scenes about, but I'd more likely just make some stuff up and not summon it often, if at all.

Rules on points and rolls:

Chapter 1 - Roll until a 100 point creature is acquired. That creature's universe will be the starting universe.
Gain 100 points per 1000 words
Roll for new summon per 1000 words

Chapter 2+ - Gain 100 points on chapter start
Roll for power on chapter start
Gain 100 points per 1000 words
Roll for new summon every 1000 words

Note: Any creature roll worth 0 points, as well as some power rolls, can be immediately purchased before rolling again.