#('why do xiliens get xe pronouns?' because im rebelling against the implication that xiliens have a patriarchy)

[ckret2]

Write a story of a magical transformation

Anonymous said: Actually more specific (about the magical transformation) godzilla turning into a human but after the sun sets that sort of thing

oh man it’s like reverse shrek.

nah I’m not gonna do reverse shrek to y'all that would be evil

but hey, diverging a little bit from this prompt, do you wanna check out this idea i had for a gijinka AU

This isn’t proofed since I wanted to see how fast I could write it. Answer: I could write it in about seventy minutes. Not quite the thirty I was shooting for, but!!

Edit: this is now proofed! Thank goodness.

###

Godzilla hoped his roar shook the three-headed invader to its bones.

He had bites on his neck and arms, slashes across his chest, and his throat was raw from screaming and blasting at the invader. They had been fighting since before dawn, and the sun was nearly setting now. He burned with exhaustion—but he wasn’t weakened. No. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Too much was on the line for that.

Behind him, barely hatched from her egg, he could feel Mothra touching his mind to encourage him, support him—but not able to do much more, unless she got close enough that she could get a good silk shot at the invader. He didn’t want her to try. The invader had smashed too many of her eggs already; Godzilla didn’t know if she had any left. If he didn’t protect her here and now, he might never have another chance.

The invader’s necks swayed and waved, like three golden sea serpents gliding through the deep.

The last of Godzilla’s roar faded, drifting away over the ocean, no mountains on this flat island for it to echo against. It was replaced by the sound of the surf and the circling human-made metal birds above observing the battle.

The invader roared back, three eerie alien shrieks. Godzilla could see his own blood in one of its mouths.

He didn’t give it a chance to finish its roar. He charged, meaning to sink his teeth into the middle neck, the plates on his back already beginning to glow.

###

“The sun is setting,” one said. Xir voice was quiet, flat, and cold, and yet still seemed too loud in the dark space ship. “They���re not moving further west. This is the maximum amount of solar radiation we are capable of exposing them to without restarting the operation again. Shall we proceed to phase three?”

Phase one had been creating a “lens,” so to speak, in outer space between this Sun 185,762 and its Planet 3. The “lens” consisted of billions of tiny crystals, unnoticeable to the inhabitants of Planet 3, but drastically altering the kind of radiation that the star gave off—turning it into a radiation with the power to physically transform the planet’s largest inhabitants.

Phase two had been manipulating the most dangerous of said planet’s largest inhabitants into chasing each other all day, racing westward across the surface of the planet, so that they would follow the sun as it traveled across the sky and absorb far more than the usual daily dose of radiation. Today, Monster 0 and Monster 1 had been in the sunlight for twenty hours. It had taken numerous attempts to get this far—this was Phase 2 Attempt 38, in fact—because of Monster 0’s tendency to create cloud cover wherever it went.

Phase three was taking advantage of this radiation.

Their projections had called for a full 24 hours for maximum effectiveness, but it had taken so long just to get up to 20. They couldn’t afford to waste more time. And 20 was within their acceptable range.

The one in control of this operation nodded. “Proceed to phase three,” xe said. As xir underlings worked their controls, xe added, “We will deal with any side effects of their low dosage as they come up. Begin preparing contingency plans.”

A dull white beam of light shot out from their ship toward Planet 3, vanishing invisibly in the atmosphere. “Bring up the surveillance feeds,” xe said. Holographic live feeds, sent from their spies mixed with the primitive aircraft circling the battle far below, displayed above their consoles. They all watched quietly.

###

One of the invader’s heads had squeezed its jaws around Godzilla’s throat—not enough to strangle, but enough to keep him from blasting the vile creature like it deserved. He could feel static against the side of his face as another prepared to electrocute him. He let go of his grip on the middle throat and clawed the threatening head away, bellowing, trying to get a good enough grip on it to break its jaw—

And then something he couldn’t see hit him.

It felt like he was floating in air, and the world vanished.

###

“Phase three successfully completed,” one said. “Monsters 0 and 1 have been neutralized. Nearby instance of Monster 3 also appears to have been neutralized.”

The leader nodded in satisfaction. “Report this in,” xe said. “We will await orders to proceed to phase four.”

Phase four. Full invasion.

###

Godzilla’s senses came back to him slowly. He was face down flat on the ground. His scales felt raw and soft, like he’d been cooked alive; and the sensation was so strange it took him a moment to realize that his earlier bites and scratches didn’t hurt at all.

He opened his eyes. His vision swam���everything looked distorted somehow, in a way he couldn’t make sense of—had he been hit on the head? How badly?

He got his claws under him and tried to push himself to his feet. The attempt was too successful; instead of leveraging himself partway up, he flung himself from lying on his chest to lying on his back. He grimaced, wondering what the hell was wrong with—

Wait, “on his back”? Where were his back plates?

Why couldn’t he feel his tail?

He rolled onto his side, and saw his claws for the first time—not claws. Even in the faded light, he could see that. Hands. Soft and flat, with long sausage-like fingers, connected to arms that were far too long, arms that were connected to—

He scrambled to his feet, whining in horror at the sight of his body—even his whine sounded wrong, high and nasally and weak. One of the human-made birds above focused a light on him, blinding him for a moment—when he adjusted to the light, and could properly see all the smooth squishy brown flesh where his hard gray hide was supposed to be, he had to shut his eyes, dizzy.

He kept having to adjust his balance with his arms, unsure how to totter on two feet without a tail to support him. What happened to him? He looked like a bald ape. Or maybe—no, that wasn’t possible—he didn’t think he’d ever seen a human with all its clothes off, but based on what he had seen of them, perhaps...

He looked frantically around the island, and almost fell onto his back again. What had once seemed like slight unevennesses in the ground, swells that barely came up to his ankle, were now hills towering over him. He’d shrunk. He really was human.

Which meant there was no one to protect—

He spun around so fast he fell down, yelping. (Oh, gross, a bunch of hair had fallen in his face. He smacked it out of the way.) His heart threatened to leap out of his chest when he saw Mothra’s cracked eggshell was empty, the larva taken—where?!

But no. Just in front of the shell, crouched down, knees pulled to chest and arms wrapped around knees, was another human. An even tinier human. Was that—?

He tried to roar her name. It hurt his throat so bad he coughed and wheezed. Her voice was just as mangled and garbled, but he could barely make out his own name. Relieved, he flopped to the ground yet again. (Ow, the back of his head was weak.) She was still safe.

Ha. “Safe.” Was this safe? Being human? Could she make any more eggs as a human? And how did this happen?! And what about the invader, where did it—

Something behind him let out a raw shriek.

He scrambled back to his feet. He had to push the gross hair dropping from his head out of his eyes again.

There were three more humans, arms locked together so tightly they might well be attached to each other, looking between each other’s faces, hissing and gibbering to each other in a panic.

When he stood, though, they fell silent, turning toward him. They were roughly the same height as Godzilla, but paler even than Mothra’s new body, so pale they almost glowed. And as annoying as Godzilla’s hair was, at least it wasn’t as long as these humans’, hanging down below their knees in messy yellowish curtains.

The middle human tightened its grips on the other two, and hissed. They dropped into half crouches together, bending low, like they were preparing to charge. Their long hair rippled behind them as they moved.

Their manes swayed and waved, like three golden sea serpents gliding through the deep.

Still here.

And now they outnumbered him and Mothra. Oh no. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Godzilla roared so hard he could feel his voice starting to give out. The three humans shrieked back, new voices high and piercing. And then he charged at them, half running and half falling forward, determined to get the middle one’s throat between his square teeth.

###

The Monarch monitoring ship had been dead silent for almost five minutes, watching the feed of the battle on the island.

At the first sight of blood dripping to the sand between the weird new combatants, Coleman shook out of his trance, and turned to look at Serizawa. “Uh…”

Serizawa had his mouth cradled contemplatively in one hand. His eyes were completely bugged out.

“So,” Coleman said weakly. “So, uh, what… what should we… uh… do.”

Serizawa didn’t answer for a moment. He let go of his face to gesture at their former titans; opened his mouth; shut his mouth; gestured again; put his hand back over his mouth; and gestured for a third time. “Well,” he said.

Coleman waited for Serizawa to say more. When he didn’t, Coleman nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

“Well,” Serizawa said again, “obviously, we should… go bring them some blankets.”

Coleman blinked, and looked again at the… very naked humans.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.”

Serizawa took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Land the ship,” he finally said. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

###