Yes, give me something HP or SW or even with Loki as one of them. If you don't post yours in like 24 hours, I'll take it back...

There's this post at the top which says something about loose guidelines being 500 words and 30 minutes

 

Challenge for anyone who wants it:

Dumbledore vs Lucius Malfoy

 

I'll take it. I have one pending but I like this idea too much to pass it up.

 

Anyone care to give me another challenge? Potter or Dresden. Any of the mainstream DC/Marvel characters. Buffy/Angel. Various fantasy novels and films.

And a challenge for anyone who wants it: Sirius Black vs Kelsier (Mistborn series)

 

For Shinysavage, here's something I've never seen before:

Sirius Black vs Severus Snape.

 

Voldemort vs Loki, and it shall glorious. Just imagine the taunt potential between an immortal wannabe wizard and a wizard wannabe immortal.

My piece will be posted as soon as I find a workable pc.

---------- Post automerged at 03:41 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:04 AM ----------

This, uh, got away from me, I guess.

Harry Potter VS Otachi the Kaiju
~HP~​

It began in San Fransisco, on the 10th of August, 2013, after a 7.1 Richter scale earthquake. That was when the first Kaiju, since nicknamed 'Trespasser', emerged and attacked. Six days, three cities, and tens of thousands of dead later, Trespasser was finally put down.

He was the first.

What are the Kaiju, you ask, that it took so long to kill one? Monstrous creatures of epic proportions, they began spilling from a fissure between tectonic plates, where a portal had been opened. Kaiju vary in shape and size, but all are enormous, all are deadly, and all are bent on humanity's extinction.

The second attack came six months later. Then another. And another. Humanity finally realized that this was not going to stop, and began working together to combat this threat. The world's leading countries pooled their resources, and with their collective intelligence decided that the best course of action was to fight fire with fire. Figuratively. Hey, it wasn't my idea.

Enter the Jaeger program. Gigantic robots manned by two pilots, easily the size of the Kaiju themselves, armed to the teeth and sent to fight the giant monsters. It was every male's dream come true.

The Jaeger program worked for years. It was such a stunning success, that people stopped seeing Kaiju as legitimate threats and more like extra reasons for reality shows. Pilots were treated like celebrities, marketing companies made action figurines out of Kaiju and Jaegers alike. Video games were made. Each Kaiju was given a name and had its own stat sheet. Life for humanity was, once again, good.

Then it all went to shit. The Kaiju did not stop coming. The frequency of the attacks increased. The Kaiju only got bigger, their attacks deadlier. Jaegers were lost for the first time since the early testing stages. Sometimes, two Kaiju emerge from the breach.

Unlike the Kaiju, the Jaegers were not seemingly infinite. Astoundingly, building and maintaining gigantic battle robots was expensive, even for a committee of countries from around the world. Slowly, lost Jaegers were not replaced. Damaged Jaegers were patched up or left to rot. It became, once again, a fight for humanity's survival rather an exciting TV show.
In 2021, after the loss of famous Jaegers Striker Eureka and Coyote Tango, the world committee called the Jaeger Program a bust.

So, what were they to do? How would they defend themselves?

In a secret meeting, even by world committee standards, the leaders of the world decided to turn to a part of their population that all new existed, but pretended to ignore.

Very few wizards had died from Kaiju attacks. Wizards did not have trouble evading a Kaiju if it happened upon their settlement, loss property easily replaced. The Wizarding world never much cared for the threat that could very well drive the muggles to extinction.

Until the magical governments were, for the first time since the Statute of Secrecy, contacted by their muggle counterparts. Pleas were made, deals were struck, throats went hoarse, but eventually an agreement was made that satisfied both parties.

The wizards would deal with the Kaiju, and the muggles would keep the very public displays of magic by the reaction teams a secret. Further details of the agreement were classified.

For the first time, the muggle world was introduced to the members of Kaiju Reaction Force. These teams wielded top secret technologies, created over the last decade in secret in order to combat the Kaiju threat, finally ready for deployment. A single member of the KRF could be just as a threatening as a Jaeger unit, if ... smaller.

At every Kaiju event, a KRF team appeared. Usually, a single unit had five members, all working in tandem to take down a single Kaiju.

The muggles were amazed. The public couldn't get enough of these guys. As much hype as there was for the Jaegers, if not more. KRF members utilized several pieces of equipment, the most important of which was a tool, seemingly a wooden stick. From it, they could spew fire, water, and several beams of light with different results.

No one knew what kind of technology they used. Nobody cared. People looked at KRF members, and they saw magic. Unlike the Jaeger pilots, KRF members were notoriously private, and vanished pretty much the moment a Kaiju was dead. Usually.

As for me? I'm Harry Potter, KRF Unit A1. That's right, I'm the whole unit. I did say that a single unti had five member, but I also said usually. Usually and Harry Potter don't mesh very well. I also happen to be the public face of the KRF, being basically the only one who takes at least time to talk and answer some questions. What can I say, the public loves me.

I am one of three people in the KRF capable of taking down a Kaiju by myself. Kaiju killing became my main profession. Plus, I got to kill things the size of Hogwarts. For a few hours' work, every few months, I got more money than I knew what to do with and had the ensuing months before I was called again to spend it. What's there not to love? Despite the outrageous fees of the KRF units, it was still cheaper than the Jaegers by orders of magnitude.

The good thing with being a one man unit? I didn't have to split the pay by five.

That specific day that I will tell you about, I happened to be lounging in a beach in Greece, a beautiful brunette by my side, when the call came. One of my only obligations as a KRF unit is, no matter where I am and no matter what I do, I would respond to the call. Considering it only came once every few months and paid for the rest of the year, I thought it a decent trade.

So I said my hasty goodbyes to ... you know I don't really remember. Anyway, I got dressed, found a shady corner, and Apparated to the KRF HQ. We say KRF HQ, when in reality it's a glorified Apparition point. It's a building ... somewhere in America, I never bothered to find where, where the government pretended to deposit KRF members before they deploy. There were muggle officials there, in charge of the Kaiju Emergency Alert System. The building was just as bland as any official building, but then again I was never into muggle decoration.

"Hey Marty." I greeted the receptionist. I'm sure her official post wasn't 'receptionist' but that's what she was. Or a secretary, I never quite decided.

The hot blond fake-glowered at me "It's Martinez, mister Potter. Not for the first time I'll have to ask you to stop calling me Marty."

I'd been on her case for the better part of four years. One of these days, I was sure she'd stop resisting my charms.

"Oh come on Marty. One dinner, that's all I ask."

"They're waiting for you at Briefing Room 5, Mister Potter."

I dramatically shook my hand at her. "Soon, Marty, soon."

Briefing Room 5 was just a big room, in which several muggles minded computer monitors. Overseer Ross, my usual dispatcher, was waiting for me.

"Hey Ross. What is it this time?"

"Double event, category 4. We're sending you and A2. He's waiting for you there."
A2 was Mengsk Highmast. Make fun of his last name all you want but at your own risk, for he is the heavyweight magic-throwing champion of the US magical world. They must really want no problems with this one.

Oh, I didn't tell you? A few months ago, a KRF unit was called to deal with a Kaiju. It was a single Kaiju, category 3, pretty run of the mill stuff. That particular unit had a flair for the dramatics, perfectly timing the end of their five-man, five minute preparation transfiguration spell so they would unleash precisely when a Kaiju would swipe a limb at them. The Kaiju would promptly find that limb, up to its root, transformed into smoke.

Imagine their surprise when the Kaiju proved resistant to transfiguration magic. All five of the poor bastards were squashed like so many mosquitoes. You'd think they'd have apparated away, but the idiots waited until the last possible second to unleash their spell, to maximize the suspense for the TV crews watching them. As I said, idiots. And guess who got called to clean up their mess, and collect their pay? Yup, yours truly.

It was the second time a wizard died to a Kaiju, and the first time a whole team was lost. In the last few years, occasional Kaiju have popped up resistant to this or that field of magic, but never to to this extent.

"Where am I headed?" I asked Ross.

"Hong Kong station."

"Got it." I nodded to him, and Apparated. For wizards of my caliber, Apparating from the US to Hong Kong was hardly noteworthy. There are KRF deployment stations all over the world, near the usual Kaiju destinations.

Everybody inside the briefing rooms is aware of the 'teleporting' abilities of the KRF, so my sudden pop inside Briefing Room 1 of the Hong Kong station drew only startled looks, but nothing further. Various Chinese officials, and Highmast himself, who saw me and gave me a cheeky wave and smile.

"Yo, brit." He called to me.

"Hey Mast." Don't look at me like that, I like coming up with names for people.

"They got both of us here? Must be feeling nervous. What d'ya think?"

"That I can't wait to spend my cat 4 pay, Mast."

That made the American laugh. Mengsk was a tall bloke, almost a head and a half taller than me. His sandy blond hair was cut short, and his face appeared hard at first glance, but with how easily Mengsk laughed, that impression didn't stick for long.

"I'll buy ye a beer after we're done here. What do you say?"

"I'll come with you if you're buying, mate, but I'll be choosing the drinks."

"You got yourself a deal, brit."

Our catching up was cut short by the Chinese dispatcher, who showed us a computer monitor that was tracking the two Kaiju on their way over from the Breach.

Honestly, our job was pretty simple. Go there, kill that, minimize damages and casualties. We walked to a nearby room that distinctly lacked a roof. In it, Highmast retrieved his broom.

"You ready?" I asked him.

"Sure, let's go."

And we were off, Highmast on his broom and me simply flying, robes billowing around me. Even then, over a decade since I learned how, flying under my own power tore a roar of delight from me as we flew out of the building, gained altitude, and headed to the sea to intercept the Kaiju.

"When will you teach me how to do that, man?" Highmast asked, as he always did when we met.

"When you set me up with your sister," I replied, as I always did.

"You stay away from my sister!"

I did a few rolls around myself, making sure the charms to protect me from wind burns and insect collisions were working.

"There!" Mengsk yelled, pointing ahead. The moving masses of water and dark shapes underneath were unmistakeable.

"Reel the one you want, mate."

"Right on."

Watching Mengsk do magic was almost, almost, as majestic as watching myself. He swished his wand forwards, and fire leaped from its tip, more and more and at incredible speeds. The fiendfyre Mengsk summoned roared, with a life of its own, before swiftly being brought to heel and forming a fire-whip, miles in length.

He whipped his wand arm forwards, and the whip followed its movement, flinging itself at the left shape and diving into the sea without a care for the fire-water interactions. The fiendfyre whip wrapped around one of the Kaiju's limbs, and Highmast pulled, body and magic thrown into the motion. The whip did little more than surface burns, but it did draw the Kaiju's attention, and with Highmast pulling, he managed to make the left Kaiju veer away and follow him as he led it eastwards.

'Reeling' is a trick I learned from Highmast himself, back when we first met and I the cocky, well, cockier, upstart in the ranks.

"Have fun!" I called after him, and summoned my own Fiendfyre whip to draw the attention of the remaining Kaiju. At the edge of my vision, I saw TV crews on choppers, relatively safe distance away.

"okay." Now certain that the Kaiju was following me, I flew away, leading it to shallower waters. It was advantageous to the Kaiju itself, but I needed a clear shot to unleash most of my arsenal, not an underwater one.

I was beginning to wonder how weird it was that the Kaiju was still underwater, when I knew that the water was now shallow enough for a decent sized Kaiju to be half-way out of the water.

Suddenly, my instincts screamed needlessly at me. Needlessly, because I had eyes, and the building sized tail, complete with pincers at the end, was really hard to miss.

I swore as I swerved to avoid the incoming tail. It flew by me, and splashed back into the water. I decided to throw caution to the wind, having witnessed this Kaiju's speed, and stuffed myself and my robes with imperturbable charms and strengthening charms. It should, in theory, at least allow me to survive a direct hit.

After a suspense of a few seconds, the water mass shifted, and the beast lunged at me. Much faster than I had anticipated, there was no way I was flying out of this one. Long, straight limbs were stretched, reaching for me. The beast's head was long, atop and even longer, ridged neck. Between the forehead and the snout was a very distinctive crest, with two extra, golden eyes on each front part. The crest was curved in the front, with a long, sturdy spike protruding from the back.

Escape was impossible, considering the size of the thing, easily one of the biggest Kaiju I had faced to date, even for a category four. Seeing this, I Apparated to a spot in the air one hundred meters to my left.

"Sweet Merlin." I swore, seeing the beast land, this time without hiding under the surface. The tail was as long as the rest of the body, the front pair of legs had a fifth digit on the middle joint and were bigger than the back legs. Its beady, not-so-little eyes were zeroed in on me.

"Alright, let's get to it then." I said, more for my benefit than anything else. In the distance, I could hear faint booms, and see faint flashes. Highmast was already at it.

Seeing the beast curl in on itself and fold its tail in preparation of lashing at me once again, I began my attack. I Apparated again, this time behind the best and near the tail. I had to get rid of it.

I unleashed my Fiendfyre. It took the shape of, ironically, a Jaeger that I'd seen some years ago and thought particularly cool. The huge fire construct lunged immediately, fiery mechanical limbs wrapping around the base of the tail. Kaiju hide was notoriously resistant, but Fiendfyre was the most effective flame in the world. It usually tore into the Kaijus after a few seconds of working on the hide.

Not this time. I could see my Jaeger pull and bash at the tail, and it did blacken, but not nearly as fast as it should. The Kaiju roared, and swung its body, dragging my Jaeger with it right into the water. Steam rose as soon as the Fiendfyre was submerged. The pacific ocean would sooner go dry before it would snuff out my Fiendfyre, but the steam effects were impressive nonetheless.

The distraction worked. With the Kaiju's attention on my Jaeger, I let loose a barrage of oversized Piercing curses, aiming for the eyes. With how it was flailing, three missed outright, and four landed on its thick hide, which they dented but did not pierce. The last curse did manage to nail the right eye of the crest, and curve deep into the the beast's retina.

It roared in pain, and intensified its flailing. It smashed its left front leg on my Jaeger construct. The Jaeger could not be killed, as it was fire given form, but the Kaiju did manage to dissolve its shape, and dislodge the grip around the tail. Now free, the Kaiju jumped away from my Fiendfyre, the base of its tail half-melted, but still usable.

By this point my Jaeger was starting to seriously affect my concentration with its ever intensifying attempts at mental bids for freedom. Seeing all it was doing was setting back the Greenhouse Effect, I released the Fiendfyre.

The Kaiju was roaring at me from below, angry and no doubt planning something. I didn't give it the chance. I apparated to a point between its right back foot and underbelly that I could see. Immediately I started flying next to the beast's hide, letting my wand trace it by barely touching the hide, circling around the base of the limb and letting loose continuous streams of Transfiguration magic. Performed correctly, it would transform the spots I touched, and all the space inside the ensuing shape, into nitroglycerin, which I would promptly ignite before the limb had enough time to fall away from the rest of the body.

I know, right? McGonagall would be right proud of me.

Only the spell didn't work.

"Tch. Magic resistant." I cursed again, flying away to put some distance between us.

"I told them those things were adapting. But did the listen? No sir."
I swerved under the tail that was coming my way, unleashing an Exploding Curse at the already weakened base. The Kaiju turned, and swiped at me with its long front leg and wicked claws. I flew between two of the claws, and let loose a continuous stream of rapid-fire curses, meant to annoy more than hurt the beast.

"You just go do your job, they always say. It's why we're paying you wizards, they say."

I transformed the air particles in front of the Kaiju's mouth into a five meter tall stone golem. In fell out of the sky immediately like, well, a mid-air stone golem, and fell inside the beast's open maw, where it promptly made itself annoying.

"I can just see it in their expressions." I grumbled to myself. "But you're wizards, they think," I said in a ridiculous voice, "You have magic! Why are you complaining about anything?"

The Kaiju spit the remains of my construct, and even though I expected it, it was still faster than I thought. Along with the Kaiju blood that rolled, blue liquid that I'd never seen before also fell from its mouth, and steam rose when it hit the water.

I avoided another swinging limb, and got between the beast's legs, going after the underbelly.

"Stupid muggles. The Kaiju are adapting and they don't care so long as its not them that deal with it."

My severing curses finally showed some results, and Kaiju blood rained down on the sea surface. The monster wailed, and attempted to shove me underwater by submerging itself.

Naturally, I apparated away, a hundred meters directly above.

The Kaiju's head swiveled to my spot, somehow able to discern my position.
I was getting frustrated with how little damage my attacks caused, but confident that I would get it eventually. It was already bleeding from the tail and underbelly, and had yet to nail me with anything.

I was forming a plan inside my head, when I sensed a magical weight settle over me, almost stifling in its intensity. I gasped audibly from the sudden surge, and instinctively knew that Apparition would be impossible from now on.

Whatever this was, my Kaiju was not the source. I looked far to the East, where Highmast's explosions had lulled. I tapped my wand on my throat and ear, and spoke.

"Mast, what the bloody hell was that?"

He responded, and I heard him as clearly as if he was standing right next to me.

"Anti-Apparition. Don't ask me how, but this fucker can weave anti Apparition fields like they're cotton. You were affected, all the way over there?"

His incredulity was well deserved. Ignoring the fact that it was, up until now anyway, impossible for Kaiju to cast Anti-Apparition fields, in fact impossible for them to interact with magic at all, there was no way for a field like that to cover such long distances.

"Keep your distance mate. They've got us pinned down."

"Got ya." Highmast confirmed, and our connection broke.

The seconds it took me to communicate with the American cost me, however, as the Kaiju had seen fit to freaking spit a stream of blue liquid at me. Remembering it from before, when it burned the water, I knew that to get hit by that meant death, enchanted robes or not.

The stream of acid was too fast for me to fly away from, and the weight over my magic was painfully reminding me that apparition was impossible. So, I did the only thing left to me, and summoned the strongest material shield I knew. Taught to me by the venerable headmaster himself, magic rest his soul.

The silver, semi translucent barrier formed a complete ball around, and shone brightly with the intensity of my magic. A second later, the stream of acid smashed against it. The acid completely covered me and my shield, not letting up as it slid off the ball and fell to the sea.

After three seconds, the stream stopped. Impossible as I knew it was, my shield, the strongest material shield Dumbledore himself had known, was smoking, and thinning at an alarming rate. I knew it wouldn't take more for the acid to completely eat through it. I gathered my magic inside me, and after a second let it loose with explosive force all around me, breaking my shield from the inside and sending the remaining acid flying far away.
Momentarily safe from the acid, my eyes immediately searched for the Kaiju that I had lost sight of for precious few seconds. It didn't disappoint, and I saw it was closed enough distance to swing its tail at me once again.
Nothing I could do to escape a direct hit. I was well aware that I didn't have enough time to raise my shield again, nor was I certain that would have held such massive force anyway, and the tail was too big for me to dodge with so few milliseconds of warning.

I swore inside my head, and hastily sent whatever magic I could coursing through my body, strengthening me.

One of the pincers hit me directly, and I completely blacked out. I woke up a few seconds later, a few blocks inside the city of Hong Kong. I looked blearily around as I clutched my pounding head. Blood was gushing down from a cut on the back of my head, but I saw that the building in front of me had a hole in it, presumably from my impromptu flight, and considering I just took a direct hit from a category four Kaiju, a small gash was pretty damn lucky.

I had barely enough time to gather my bearings before the Kaiju came barreling down the street after me. I roared, blue tinged maw the size of Gryffindor tower wide open.

I took to the air immediately, abandoning my resting place just before it got obliterated by the Kaiju's long forelimbs. I got lucky that time, but I could not match the Kaiju blow for blow up close. I had to keep my distance. With that in mind, I flew down the street, thankful that the city had been evacuated to the shelters.

The Kaiju lumbered after me, almost matching my speed. I had to be mindful of the bursts of acid it threw at me, weaving left and right to dodge them.
Turning left on an intersection turning out to be a bad idea, because instead of taking the long way around like I did, the Kaiju fucking run straight into the building I had flown around, and barreled through it like it was made of play-dough. Now instead of just a pissed off Kaiju, I had a falling building to worry about.

I dodged under the Kaiju's paw swipe, and it took all my considerable skill and instinct not to be hit by the falling debris. The Kaiju was not so lucky, and though having a building drop on its face didn't seem to injure it, it did slow the monster down, giving me time to once again put some distance between us. Bastard had me on the defensive. No other Kaiju had given me so much trouble.

I transfigured debris around the Kaiju into crude but effective gigantic vices, which locked around its four limbs. Hey, I was Unit A1 because I could throw around magic like a champ. Transfiguration of such scale was, while not easy exactly, certainly bread and butter of my profession.

Locked in place, I unleashed a barrage of bludgeoners and heavy cutters at its face, overpowering them as much as I dared without having them blow up on my wand. A cutter found its way inside the Kaiju's mouth, popping something and filling its mouth with the blue acid. The bludgeoners all landed on the monster's face, managing to dent its crest to a weird, and no doubt painful, shape.

The Kaiju roared, bit down, and spat out the blue sack that I had popped. I took a guess that this meant no more spitting acid, and that meant one less worry for me.

The monster strained visibly, and my vices all popped, one by one, breaking like so many toothpicks. The Kaiju shook off the last of the debris, and whipped its tail at me. I managed to control my flight enough to dodge, and I decided to once again seek more distance. For the strategic advantage, you understand.

The Kaiju tore after me, and I decided that simply flying straight ahead was the kind of stupidity one only sees in cheesy books and muggle films, so I began ascending as I went. I managed to fly out of the Kaiju's range, and turned around, ready to pelt it with more heavy spells.

Instead, I decided that it would be a good idea to fly a bit more, considering the Kaiju was clambering up the side of a huge scryscraper to get at me. It was moving very fast, and it was climbing almost as fast as I was ascending.

We hit the skyline, and I flew above the roofs of the building, not stopping my ascent. The Kaiju reached the roof of the, by now crumbling, scryscraper, and saw that I was still out of range. It let out an engraged roar, and extended its front legs to its sides.

"There's just no way ..." I muttered to myself, entranced. "There's no way this thing can-"

I didn't finish my sentence, because from the extended limbs stretched long, leathery wings, and with another roar the Kaiju leaped of the building, flapping powerfully.

"-motherfucking fly!" I screamed as I let loose the speed again. I kept going up, up, and up, trying to get away from the flying monster behind me while coming up with a plan to deal with it.

Unfortunately, as much as I loved unaided flight and would exchange it for nothing else, it was not as fast as a racing broom. Nor, apparently, faster than a flying Kaiju.

Despite flying almost vertically, the Kaiju was catching up to me, and I could feel it snapping its jaws again and again, in preparation for when I would be close enough for it to close those same jaws around me.
I work best under pressure. Some call this lunacy, some call this brilliance. I was not sure what to dub the idea that suddenly popped into my head. I was going to consider it either. I was, then and now, a man of action, and when ideas like that come, you don't consider legitimacy or consequences.
So, I stopped my mad flight, halted in mid-air, and let myself drop, turning to face the incoming Kaiju. I was controlling my fall only enough so that I was dropping directly towards the Kaiju. It saw me approaching rapidly and, rather than question my motives, sensed victory, opening its gargantuan maw to accept a willing victim.

Just as I was within reach of the open jaws I jabbed my wand forwards and, rather than incanting anything, simply roared. My fury and magic coalesced in fire, and my Jaeger once again took shape, though much smaller than its earlier version, this time forming directly around my rapidly falling form.

We fell inside the Kaiju's mouth, and the dumb beast was stupid enough to close it. The momentum of my falling Jaeger carried us directly through the mouth down the throat that was big enough to fit three buses. I ordered my construct to extends its arms, catch onto the sides of the tube we were falling through, and halt our descent, while at the same time tethering myself so I was constantly in the center of my Jaeger, not wanting out of it and into whatever gastric fluids the beast had, not not liking the idea of touching Fiendfyre either.

As my Jaeger began burning holes in the Kaiju's insides and climbing through them, I summoned even more Fiendfyre constructs, much smaller this time, that took the form of various animals and machines alike from my subconscious. They took off in various directions, burning the Kaiju from the inside where it did not have the resistance of its thick outer hide.
I could feel the Kaiju shaking from the massive amounts of pain it must have been feeling, and our sudden weightlessness could mean only that we were falling, the Kaiju no longer able to control its flight.

We fell, us and the Kaiju, but I did not let my Jaeger stop its rampage around the Kaiju's insides. We were falling and turning wildly, but anything the Jaeger could reach and burn was to our advantage. I had enough presence of mind to reinforce my tethers as much as I could, and forming as many more as possible.

A few impossibly long seconds later, the Kaiju crashed to the ground, probably through a building, and me with it. My Jaeger held even under the massive pressure from all sides, and my tethers held as well, so I survived the crash.

I was guessing that the Kaiju didn't, for I could feel only spasming movements around us, and those themselves fading.

"Take that, you bastard."

I released all other fiendfyre constructs except my Jaeger, needing to retain my willpower for my fight with the Jaeger alone, not needlessly wasting concentration.

The Jaeger managed to stand upright, and began to burn its way through the Kaiju, trying to get out.

Suddenly, something wrapped around the Fiendfyre construct and squeezed.

"Motherfucker." I cursed, nearly losing my mental grip over the accursed flame. The thing grabbing us was trying to bite and claw as well as squeeze, but neither was a good idea against fire that didn't collapse under pressure. It was much smaller than the Kaiju, barely the size of my mini-Jaeger itself. Having had enough of this shit, I directed my construct to wrestle the beast into the ground, or the flesh we were standing on, and lock its head in its arms. The beast wailed, but the Jaeger snapped its neck without even trying, and its fiery limbs burned the body even as it fell, dead.

"The fucker was pregnant?!" I asked, incredulity casting my voice in a much lighter and shriller tone that I would have liked.

My Jaeger once again began to burn our way out. Finally, after burning through another layer of flesh, the construct's hands were outside the dead body, and opened a hole big enough to climb out of.

"What is the matter with these things?" I ranted, before turning my thoughts inwards at my mental battle with the Fiendfyre. Surprisingly, the flame manifestation had not been as aggressive against me as it could have been. Maybe it liked fighting Kaiju as much as I did? With a brief mental surge of affection for the demonic flame, I released it, letting my Jaeger snuff out from around me.

I flew higher, watching the body critically for any sign of movement. I saw none, and an inspection of the monster's eyes proved that it was, once for all, dead.

Fiendfyre, outside my control, was already eating at the body. There would be little left of it, soon.

I breathed heavily once, twice. In, out. In, out.

Then, I tapped my wand to my throat and ear.

"Mengsk, I'm ready for that drink. What's your status?"

~HP~​

 

Cool stuff, but...

Striker Eureka? Nooooooo!

 

You killed Striker Eureka? You bastard!

It was a nice, intense fight. Would love to see more.

 

Can I do a repeat of a challenge? Dumbledore vs Lucius is too good to pass up, and I'm itching to write Dumbledore. Peace, if you don't mind I'll take it.

 

New challenge for anyone versed in Cthulhu Mythos:

In February of 1928, Albus Dumbledore took absence of leave from his teaching position at Hogwarts, to visit his ailling friend acros the pond, that resided on the outskirts of a small fishing town, in Massachussets. The name of this town? Innsmouth.

Albus Dumbledore vs. The Esoteric Order of Dagon, on the day of U.S. Marine Corps raid on Innsmouth, to "seize suspected aliens, seditionists and Reds for questioning and deportation"

 

Dumbledore vs Lucius Malfoy. I'm so sorry Peace but I just couldn't resist (and you do have one pending). Still, forgive me .

This picks up from near the end of Chamber of Secrets, with Dobby and Lucius and Harry in Dumbledore's office. Kind of an improbable situation, but I let something that was meant to be brief run away from me. Again conclusive proof I am incapable of writing a short short-story.

I picked some line of CoS because I didn't feel like rewriting them.

* * * * *​

Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.

And Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and the house-elf backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

“Don’t you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” said Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.

“How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?” he said.

“Because you gave it to her,” said Harry. “In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn’t you?”

He saw Mr. Malfoy’s white hands clench and unclench. “Prove it,” he hissed.

“Oh, no one will be able to do that,” said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. “Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort’s old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you. . . .”

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand.

Instead, he turned to his house-elf. “We’re going, Dobby!”

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor.

"It is quite unfortunate isn't it," Dumbledore commented softly, mirroring his thoughts.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Together, they stared at the back of the door, beyond which Dobby's pained squeals could still be heard.

Harry felt something twist in his insides, a mix of hot, hopeless anger and sadness. Dobby could be a handful at times, but after all the little house-elf had gone through it seemed hardly fair to leave him to Malfoy's mercies — "Can't you do anything Professor?"

"I am afraid not," Dumbledore said sadly. "Dobby remains the property of the Malfoy family, and however much we may disagree, Lucius is free to treat him as he sees fit."

"I know, but what couldn't you —" he broke off. The soggy, stabbed diary still sat on Dumbledore's desk, atop a messy pile of papers which were now dripping with water.

“Professor Dumbledore,” he said hurriedly. “Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?”

For a second Dumbledore simply looked at him from above the rim of his half-moon glasses, a curious glint in his eyes. Then the Headmaster nodded and with a flick of his wand, the soaking book hovered off the table, dripping water to the carpet. "Hurry. The feast, remember...”

Harry snatched the diary and dashed out of the office.

Albus Dumbledore watched him go, a look of pride on his face. He allowed himself a little smile. With every passing day the boy grew to embody of the best parts of James and Lily. And he glimpsed the plan in the boy’s green eyes. It was plan was a clever one. It could work, of course but…

He allowed himself a few seconds before nodding to himself. Nothing would be gained by endlessly deliberating the morality of his actions. It had to be done. It might take the span of months or years, but without doubt Lord Voldemort would be back to the realm of the living, and it was only prudent to free him of one of his most crucial supporters now that the chance presented itself. He looked to his familiar, perched on the ornate golden bird stand right beside the door to his office.

“Fawkes, if you please, kindly fetch Minerva and Severus. Tell them to make their way to my office.”

The phoenix trilled a musical note and disappeared in a flourish of red and golden flames.

Albus Dumbledore tapped the tip of his wand to his crown, briefly enjoying the cool, slimy sensation as it snaked down his entire body. Then, his eyes hardened, and he rose to follow.

* * * * *​

Harry could hear Dobby’s squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, he took off one of his shoes, pulled off a slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.

He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

“Mr. Malfoy!” he yelled, skidding to a halt, “Mr. Malfoy, I’ve got something for you —”

Lucius Malfoy turned, an ugly retort on his lips, only to have something shoved into his hands.

“What the —?”

He ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry.

"It's yours," Harry Potter said, grinning. "I thought you should have it."

Lucius took in the boy's wide smile, and allowed a cold sneer of his own to settle across his. "They were meddlesome fools, you know?” he said softly. “Your parents. Keep going like this and one day you'll meet the same sticky end."

Harry Potter kept smiling, unperturbed. With a sniff, Lucius turned on his heels. Maybe the boy was mentally-deficient. Not surprising, with that senile crackpot running the school. "Come Dobby! I said come!"

But Dobby stayed rooted to where he stood. The house-elf held the slimy sock in his grubby little hands, a raptured look shining in his large, rheumy eyes.

"Master has given Dobby a sock," the elf said in a small, disbelieving voice. "A sock, all for Dobby."

"Yes, are you retarded?" Lucius snarled. He brandished his cane at the little, miserable creature. "It's a sock. Now come, before I start cursing you."

But Dobby's face only glowed with happiness. "But Master is the only one retarded. Master gave Dobby a sock. Dobby is now free."

Harry Potter broke into wild laughter.

Lucius' eyes flashed from the thrice-cursed boy, now laughing wildly, to the house-elf and then it all became clear. He had been tricked into given the house-elf the sock.

Dobby is now free.

With an enraged roar, he whipped his wand out of its cane sheath and lunged for Harry Potter.

"You foolish boy! You lost me my house-elf!"

The first syllables of a hex flew from his lips as he whipped his wand arm back, but with a yell Dobby leapt in front of him, thin arms outstretched in a protective gesture. "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

There was a loud bang, and Lucius felt himself fly backward, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He crashed against a wall, pain radiating across his entire back, and then tumbled to the floor in a crumpled heap. He got up, his face livid, to see Dobby wag a long, threatening finger at him. The sight of the impassioned, furious house-elf, who scant minutes ago had served him now filled him with a rage he hadn’t quite thought possible. This miserable insect had dared, dared to curse him.

“You shall go now,” Dobby said fiercely, pointing down at him. “You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now.”

And now it had the gall to command him.

Grey eyes flashed with hate and Lucius spat three choice words, long-forgotten words known only to a few select Pureblood Houses, words he never thought he’d utter in his lifetime.

“Memini quis, servisse!”

In an age long-forgotten, house-elves had not always been meek, servile things, and even those forced or born into servitude had been known to try and rebel against the magicks that kept them shackled to the wills of wizards. More often than not the filthy vicious things had needed a rather forceful reminder to remember their place in the naturally-ordained hierarchy. One was in order now.

A deep blue light flashed over the house-elf’s wretched form, and spindly arms and legs locked together with a violent, satisfying snap. Bulbous eyes went white and unseeing, lips sealed shut, and Dobby toppled back and fell helplessly to the ground.

Face contorted with vicious satisfaction, Lucius turned his attention to Harry Potter. The boy backed away, an angry, defiant expression on his green eyes. Lucius was pleased to see not a little amount of fear in there as well.

“No one to save you now Potter,” he hissed. He raised his wand. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Much. This is a school after all, and you could do with a little lesson.”

“Incendio!” Harry yelled, waving his wand in a sudden, surprise attack.

Lucius batted away the flames with a contemptuous wave of his wand and then with a hiss, made a sweeping motion to the right, the tell-tale sign of a Himalayan pain curse - agonizing but in the long-term relatively harmless. A furious violet light rushed forward and Harry Potter’s eyes widened but a split-second before it struck, a force yanked him back and out of the way. The curse shore off a length of his trailing robes and impacted against the stone walls of Hogwarts in an explosion of purple sparks.

Lucius looked up, eyes wide, only to see the furious form of Minerva McGonagall at the end of the corridor, her wand raised and Potter clutched to safety with one hand.

She wasn’t alone. Severus Snape stood with her, a rare look of surprise on his face and worse Albus Dumbledore.

“How dare you!” the witch shrieked, her nightcap askew. “How dare you attack a student of Hogwarts!”

She made a threatening move forward, but Dumbledore laid a firm hand on her shoulder, his gaze gently reproving. The Headmaster lifted his own wand, his eyes cold and hard and when he spoke his voice was chilled, quiet.

“I suggest you put down your wand, Mr. Malfoy.”

But whether through his anger and fear of consequence or some other force, Lucius Malfoy was beyond reason. He glanced dispassionately at Dobby’s prostrate, unmoving form, and brought his wand to bear on the helpless creature. “I have an alternate suggestion. How about we all make a pact to forget this happened and I leave without killing the house-elf.

“You wouldn’t —” McGonagall began heatedly.

“As you can see clearly I have no option,” Lucius cut across coldly. “You have my terms.”

“A bad misunderstanding is all this is,” Snape said, taking a step forward. “Potter was probably running his mouth as he always does, and Lucius here,” he shot the man a hard glance, “decided a few manners were in order. Nothing more.”

McGonagall flashed him with an incredulous look and Harry opened his mouth to object.

“Be that as it may,” Dumbledore said calmly, his blue eyes flickering to Malfoy’s hostage and casually assessing the situation. “The Angorian curse is not something to be used lightly, whether as mild-mannered retribution or otherwise. Should you stand down now I may be able to negotiate for some measure of clemency but unavoidably it appears you will be spending more than a few days getting acquainted with the penitentiary system you personally helped finance.”

An ugly smile crossed Lucius’ lips and he kept his wand trained on Dobby. “And so it would seem we have reached an impasse?”

“What is this madness Lucius?” he snapped and for the first time since arriving, Severus Snape pointed his own wand. “Listen to reason. There is nothing to be gained by this. You can’t hope to take all three of us.”

Lucius’ attention diverted to the Potion’s Professor for a second, and Albus Dumbledore took the moment to make his move. With a graceful twirl of his wand, the stone underneath Dobby melted to a glassy liquid, and the house-elf sank into its depths with a wet glop.

Snape pulled McGonagall, her arms around Harry, and drew them both to safety around the corridor as a rain of stone showered around them, and Dumbledore took a step forward to deflect a blast of crimson energy meant for them.

With an angry snarl Lucius unleashed a barrage of hexes and curses and suddenly the area between the two combatants was awash with light and color. He kept up the frantic pace of fire but he was forced duck as the lights suddenly blasted apart with a gust of violent air and he barely had time to deflect the spinning lengths of ropes that came through for him.

Advancing, his eyes unforgiving, Dumbledore stepped through the sparkling light-show, and made a wrenching motion with his wand. Lucius grunted as he was yanked forward forcibly but he dispelled the summoning spell with a hurried swipe of his wand and replied with a crackle of energy meant to age bone to crippling brittleness.

The former Death Eater had done well to have lasted this long but in truth the duel was destined to be lost before it had even began. The curse was parried away with effortless ease before it reached half of the short distance between them, and the formidable Headmaster flicked his wand up in the motion of a simple tripping jinx.

Backpedalling and already unbalanced, Lucius could offer no counter as he tottered backwards, and Dumbledore’s next spell, an elementary if rather skillful paralysis hex smacked him the chest and he was frozen in the air, arms and legs contorted in mid-fall.

Dumbledore stepped closer and pulled his wand from his unresisting fingers. Helplessly irate grey eyes could only watch into his blue ones, and Lucius saw only shrewd satisfaction mirrored there in.

“Forgive me,” Dumbledore murmured, smiling as he rolled up his sleeves, “but I simply cannot pass up this wonderful opportunity.”

He reared a balled fist back and punched Lucius Malfoy right in the face.

Malfoy’s head sagged bonelessly to the side.

Dumbledore stared for a second at the unconscious man. Then he winced, and rubbed his knuckles and remarked absently to himself. “I must remember to send Aberforth a cheque for five galleons. There is indeed no greater satisfaction to be had then when punching such a loathsome son of a bitch.”

* * * * *​

They stood in the Hospital wing. Harry Potter had suffered no lasting damage but Madam Pomfrey had insisted he stay overnight for observation. Dobby the house-elf rested in another bed, the enchantments on him broken and none the worse for the wear. The Aurors had already come for Lucius Malfoy, and it would be quite a while before the silver-haired man ever made a public appearance again.

“I must confess, that was the most riled up I have ever seen Lucius,” Snape said. “And all over an inconsequential house-elf. It boggles the mind.”

Dumbledore rubbed his nose absently. “Not everyone is as an adept a master of their emotions as yourself, Severus.”

“Even still,” The Potion’s Professor continued and he eyed the Headmaster carefully, his gaze almost probing. “I expected him to stand down. At most the penalty would’ve been 30 days in one of Azkaban’s minimum exposure wards and a paltry fine for a man of his means.”

Dumbledore met the searching gaze and only smiled faintly.

The erstwhile Death Eater’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did you —”

“It has been a trying night for us all,” Dumbledore commented, eyes twinkling. “I suggest you retire for the evening Severus. Camomile tea makes for a particularly refreshing sleep. Goodnight.”

“I know what camomile tea is good for,” Severus started, irritated, then stopped. He eyed Dumbledore for a second, then without a word left from the room with a sweep of his midnight-black robes.

Dumbledore turned to Harry’s bedside. The boy was asleep, but a fringe of his hair had kept over his forehead had been displaced, and the lightning bolt scar was bare for all to see. Dumbledore watched it wistfully. The boy had gone to great lengths to see his best friend’s sister saved, and the rise of Lord Voldemort averted. All by himself. Brave and selfless.

A pang of guilt stirred in the Headmaster’s chest. Not for not being there, though that was partly it, but because he had also deliberately maneuvered a love for the house-elf into a chance to snag a dangerous foe. Harry had been in no danger, of course, he had been there the whole time, but still, he remembered the look on the boy’s face just before he had been yanked out of the path of the curse.

What if his Irritation Charm had been a tad too strong, or what if Malfoy had opted for a more lethal spell? What if he had been too late? Too many what-ifs.

He sighed and drew the bedcovers that had slipped over Harry’s chest. The boy stirred for a bit, and clutched the covers.

“Sleep well, my dear boy,” he whispered, “and forgive an old man his manipulations.”

Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet and without a backward glance, left the Hospital ward.

 

Not a problem APH. I love the 'loathsome son of a bitch' line.

Edit:

Just finished. Amelia Bones vs Lord Voldemort.

Amelia swallowed hard. Her stomach clenched with tension. Her mind cleared. How? she wondered. Her personal security protocols were flawless. Unbreakable, she had thought.

“Your morning briefing starts in five minutes, Director. We need to leave now if we’re to get there on time,” the Dark Lord said, speaking with Auror Epps’ voice.

Amelia moved around the heavy kitchen table until nothing separated except empty air. “Is Auror Epps dead?” she asked flatly.

Voldemort smiled, intrigued. “How did you know?”

Amelia tapped her monocle. “This isn’t a fashion choice.”

“Ah, I should have realised? Inspired by Auror Moody’s eye, yes?” He shed Auror Epps’ unremarkable form, becoming tall and thin with angry scarlet eyes and bone-white skin. He twirled a yew wand between his long fingers and smiled. “He died well, if futilely. You would have made a good Death Eater, Amelia.”

“My family doesn’t kneel,” Amelia said coldly, drawing her rowan wand.

“No, you don’t,” Voldemort agreed. “You do die though.”

Amelia said nothing. Her anger had died years ago. Actions speak louder than words.

Her wand came up quick and her arm bucked as it spat an electric blue curse. Voldemort’s counter was fast and fluid and his shield, a shimmering bulwark of protective magic, flared to life in less than a second. Amelia’s curse slammed into it and exploded in a burst of blue light that shined on the Dark Lord like sunrays and burnt the skin on one side of his face black as he turned away from it.

“Excellent, Amelia, excellent!” he cried delightedly. He didn’t flinch or weep. His pain tolerance was obscene. He was truly thrilled by Amelia’s first curse. She knew that it would never reach him and had selected it accordingly.

Amelia flung a blasting curse at him with a flick-and-twist of her wand. It smashed through Voldemort’s shield with a sound like breaking glass and exploded against his chest. The concussion hurled him into the wall, cracking the plasterboard. His robes were unmarked though. Amelia could almost see the lines of protective magic that turned the simple black robe into a suit of magical armour.

A verdant charm flared from his wand and a section of the wall that he was leaning against shimmered and became permeable. Voldemort scuttled back through the opening. Amelia’s piercer hit the resolidified wall.

“Expecto Patronum!” A stocky wolverine sprung from her wand and raced for the wall, carrying her call for help. She assumed from long experience that all other methods of calling for help – alarm charms, Floo alerts and half a dozen other systems – had been neutralised.

The Patronus hit the wall and shattered into a cloud of silvery mist that hung in the air for a moment before dissipating. Amelia’s calm reserve slipped for a moment and she stared at the walls with wide-eyed horror. If You-Know-Who can dispel Patronuses …

The implications were horrifying.

Footsteps pulled her from her brief reverie and the Dark Lord stepped back into the kitchen, firing a killing curse as he stepped through the doorway. Amelia banished a table chair into its path, shuddering as the sensation of the death magic washed over her. The killing curse hit the chair a foot from her chest – the Dark Lord had aimed for centre mass, just like an Auror would have – and the magically treated wood rotted and crumbled in an instant.

Fourteen knives shot out of the knife block when Amelia flicked her wand, sprouting metallic wings in the process. They zipped through the air towards the Dark Lord and he conjured a strong gust of wind that hurled them into the table where several of them buried themselves and quivered with the force of their impact. The other knives fought the wind, homing in on Voldemort once more while he and Amelia exchanged a sharp volley of spell-fire.

The kitchen lit up with a kaleidoscope of colours as they traded curses and hexes, counter-curses and shield charms. Voldemort animated the kitchen table and it lunged for Amelia who blew it apart with a curse that roared like an angry dragon. He banished the debris at her and Amelia transfigured them into sawdust on the fly. She had never been good enough at vanishing spells to use them in combat.

One knife, the last one – when did he destroy the others, she wondered – slipped through Voldemort’s impeccable defences and drove itself into his chest. It didn’t pierce his enchanted robes. The blade broke under the force of the impact. Voldemort snatched it from the air and crushed its wings with one hand before dropping it, all while Amelia dealt with the remnants of a century old table.

“You’re a talented witch, Amelia. However, you aren’t Albus Dumbledore,” Voldemort said, his look of concentration slipping into one of boredom as he tested Amelia’s skills and found them wanting.

He thrust his wand forward and purple-black light spiralled from it, becoming a long whip. He wielded it expertly and flicked it at Amelia. She conjured a shield to catch the blow but the whip ate through her shield as though it didn’t exist and wrapped around her forearm. Her powerful cleaving curse went wildly off course, tearing through a cabinet, as her arm spasmed with pain. The rowan wand fell from her nerveless fingers and Amelia lunged for it with her offhand but Voldemort jerked the whip, pulling her forward, on to her knees.

Voldemort dispelled the whip and smiled. “See, you can kneel.”

Amelia tried to stand but a heavy weight pressed down against her, making it a struggle for her to just stay upright.

“Say hello to your brother.” The crimson curse slammed into Amelia’s chest and her body tore itself apart in a shower of limbs, organs and blood. Voldemort didn’t flinch as the blood sprayed across his face and robes but he did smile in satisfaction. The killing curse was useful but it wouldn’t have quite the same impact on the first responders as a blood bath.

 

Just an FYI on how this is coming - I've, uh, gone rather heavily into the Pokemon side of things to justify how this even slightly make sense. And to give Red the proper weight he deserves. Something along 2000 words or so, yeah.

Still have to get into the Naruto side of things. I expect, once they actually meet up and clash, to clock in at um, 4000 words. Maybe 5.

What? Time-and-word limits? I have no idea what you're talking about.

 

Yeah, just wanted to say I'm still working on it. Getting Vader to Hogwarts has been . . . interesting. It's hovering at around two thousand words as well.

 

You guys are why I feel like an underachiever when my stories only reach 6-800 words.

 

You guys rule.

 

Dumbledore vs Yoda will be written soon.

 

As that happens, I'm updating my fandom selection (from HP, Naruto, SW, DC/Marvel) to include various movies such as The Incredibles or How To Train Your Dragon. I think they've plenty of interesting fighters.

Edit: Didnt automerge :/

 

Elsa (Frozen) vs Hiccup & Toothless (HTTYD).

 

Motivation to finally watch Frozen, I suppose.
Until I have though, is there anyone other than Elsa that you'd like to see vs Hiccup?