By Crys
Reviews
Killer07 posted a comment on Monday 4th August 2008 6:43pm
We know every Villian needs a supplier for tools of his trade. But maybe Voldemort shouldn't have choosen the magical branch of ACME. Their products tend to backfire on the villians fater all ;-)
Greetings
Killer07 (After a long time a bunny attacked me again)
Evan Mayerle posted a comment on Wednesday 23rd July 2008 9:24am
Hmm, regarding #336, if simple cauldron bottom regulations do that to him, how would having to fill out his tax forms affect him?
Crys replied:
Spontaneous combustion.
I would've said "homocidal rage", but this is LV we're talking about.
-
Update: Bunny used. Thanks.
Regina Noctis posted a comment on Friday 18th July 2008 3:50pm
Hey,
I've come up with a bunch more ideas for this, so I think I'll just e-mail you the entire file when I'm through. It'll be as edited as I can and everything, so. . . if you could please ignore what I've left so far?
Thanks much, and good job again!
Regina
Crys replied:
As you wish. I've deleted anything from you out of my "to write the next time this is updated" list.
Thank you in advance for what sounds like a bunch of ideas.-
Update: Used several of the ideas you sent. Will keep the rest for the next chapter.
Anne B. Walsh posted a comment on Thursday 17th July 2008 9:56am
Plotbunnied by my own story... pitiful.
-----
Lord Voldemort stepped out of the odd flying contraption and waved the red-armored guard back inside. A surreptitious pinch to the inside of his forearm did nothing.
Excellent. The spell has taken effect.
He began to walk into the woods, focusing on his destination--a small, squat building on the other side of a ridge.
Some weeks earlier, Severus had reported that Potter and his friends were planning some sort of grand entertainment involving a battle between good and evil, to be played out in a magically shared dream. The Dark Lord had seen a choice opportunity, and immediately assigned several Death Eaters to research spells which bound what happened in dreams to what happened in reality. Learning about this new world, he had reserved for himself.
An oddly fascinating creation. If the author is still alive--and of suitable descent, of course--I believe I shall reward him.
In any case, it had been obvious to him from the first moment which role Potter would take. Which was why, instead of remaining aloft to await the arrival of Potter and Snape, he had ordered a shuttle to take him to the surface of this quaint moon. Here he would kill Weasley and Granger, and as many others of Potter's coterie as he could find, before returning to his place to rewrite the ending of the story.
Annoying that it required the sacrifice of a Horcrux to come here. My dear Nagini, too... but I should not depress myself. This promises to be fun.
He stepped out of the forest to see camouflage-dressed soldiers being rounded up by those in white armor. A red-haired man bent protectively over a brown-haired woman near the doorway.
As I expected. Alone, and with no magic... easy prey.
A deep breath, and the magic of this dreamworld filled him. They called it "The Strength" or "The Power" or some such term--childish, perhaps, but its use came easily to him. He wondered if there might be a way to reproduce the effect at home.
Starting forward towards Weasley and Granger, he failed to notice the large two-legged machine clanking out of the forest behind him. Nor did he hear the furious roar which came from the creature that bounded out of its top. His first intimation that something was not as it seemed was when he was roughly seized and spun around.
Fur, he registered dimly.
A great deal of fur.
Most of it was golden and brown, except for one white patch on the creature's forehead... a patch with a rather distinctive shape...
The creature bellowed again, grasped Lord Voldemort's wrist in one hand and his shoulder in the other, and yanked.
How odd, the Dark Lord thought hazily through the pain. If Potter was here, who did play the part of...
-----
On the whole, Severus Snape thought, the efforts of the Millennium Falcon and its compatriots were likely to be unnecessary.
Loosing Longbottom inside the Death Star with a lightsaber was going to destroy the space station long before the ships could arrive.
Crys replied:
Scene added to the file. Thanks.
Regina Noctis posted a comment on Tuesday 15th July 2008 1:34am
Inspired by a particularly clever T-shirt I saw:
Voldie was a Muggle's son,
But Voldie is no more.
What Voldie thought was H-two-O
was H-two-S-O-four.
(Sorry, but I don't think the chemical notation will show up here.)
----------------------------
Also, as inspired by "The Fish-Slapping Dance" from Monty Python's Flying Circus:
A Disillusioned Tom Riddle, so intent was he on finding the key to immortality that he scarcely noticed his surroundings, walked straight past two Muggles standing near a loch while slapping each other's faces with dead fish.
Unfortunately for him, he was on the side closest to the water.
And he walked past Michael Palin just as John Cleese struck his fellow actor with a trout.
And, unlike Michael Palin, Tom Riddle couldn't swim.
-------------------
And now, end line from MPFC.
Voldemort flew around the heads of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley as they snogged by the lake, oblivious to the world. The advantage to his Animagus form, Voldemort thought as he hovered closer with a high-pitched whine, was that he could get close to his victims undetected.
Well, relatively undetected.
The disadvantage was that his primal instincts, if not kept in check, could easily give him away. . .
SLAP!
"What was that, dear?" Ginny asked without breaking the kiss.
"Oh, nothing, love," Harry replied while wiping his hand on his jeans. "Just a pesky mosquito. Don't worry, I made sure I got it--there's nothing more dangerous than a wounded mosquito after all."
-------------------
Whew! I have some more scenes, too, but I'm out of computer time, and they're LONG. Good job with the compilation work, and hope to see you posting soon! Regina
Regina Noctis posted a comment on Monday 14th July 2008 10:00am
OK, here's my suggestion (inspired by Jeconais' drabble Tomb Raider:
------------------------
Lord Voldemort had finally cornered the eighteen year-old Harry Potter in an underground cavern, once a holding room for one of his Horcruces. Potter was currently on all fours, coughing up blood from that last Bone-Breaking Hex on his chest.
"Say hello to your parents for me, you worthless brat!" Voldemort cackled, then leveled his wand against the helpless boy. "Avada--"
At that moment, a hail of gunfire burst through his body, spattering blood and gore everywhere. Voldemort stared at the gigantic hole in his chest, mouthing wordlessly, before keeling over spectacularly.
Behind where he once stood, a young woman in military fatigues was slinging a semi-automatic over her shoulder. "All right there, Harry?" she called.
"Nothing--a Healer--can't fix," Harry choked, wiping away some blood from his mouth. "Did you--get--the Horcruxes?"
"Not to fear, I've got every last one with me," Lara Croft replied, gesturing at the sack over her shoulder. "Now, what should we do with Mr. Riddle here?"
-----------------------
*grins* Hope you like it! Regina
Puck1 posted a comment on Sunday 6th July 2008 7:49am
Here's a bunny from the trial scene in OotP (any mistquoting is not my fault, my copy of OotP is at my house and I'm not at home):
"You are Harry James Potter of Number 4, Privet Drive?" Fudge had just started the questioning when Voldermort burst in.
"Potter, is this some sort of joke?" Fudge asked before casting a Stunning charm and a Jinx Hex.
Gullwhacker2 posted a comment on Wednesday 2nd July 2008 2:10am
Voldemort arranged the arcane devices, waiting for the chosen moment. Lightning rumbled, striking an antenna and pouring its energy into the massive creation stretched out on a table. Slowly, ponderously, the monstrosity sat up.
Voldemort took a moment to cackle at his creation's success. "Excellent! Now, my minion - Destroy all Mudbloods!"
The monster was well designed. It instantly locked onto both the blood of Tom Riddle Sr. and of the Evans family, and took the first step towards completing its directive.
(Possible extra - pick just one of the 'Muggle' bloodlines for Tom, rather than overcomplicate; or add a representative from the League of Villains at the end, muttering "Ironically destroyed by his own creation. Typical.")
Eric Oppen posted a comment on Tuesday 1st July 2008 4:46pm
"My Lord, I have perfected a machine that will allow you to Apparate onto Hogwarts ground, past the wards," said Severus Snape.
Smirking, Voldemort stepped in and threw the switch, vanishing...along with a stray housefly that had buzzed on in.
Some time later, after the fly-headed monster that had somehow appeared at Hogwarts had been killed (it appeared quite disoriented), a strange, high-pitched cry came from a spider-web in an unnoticed corner of the castle.
"Help me---help me!"
Crys replied:
Scene added to the file. Thanks.
Evan Mayerle posted a comment on Wednesday 25th June 2008 8:25pm
Oh, ghod!! Some of those last ones were hilarious. I wonder what would happen if Tommy-boy was to interrupt any number of super-groups, be they JLA, Avengers, or who ever? Methinks he might find himself in a world of hurt in dealing with folks used to handling cosmic crisies. OTOH, he could run afoul of some of the really powerful magicals out there like Dr. Strange. *wicked cackle* Now, I'm not sure how it'd work, but imagine the "fun" he'd have if dropped into your average Looney Tune cartoon.
naja haje posted a comment on Monday 16th June 2008 8:44am
Try this: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3073348/1/Die_Voldie_Die
It's not mine but I think it would deserve a place in your list.^^ truly insane...
WD
Crys replied:
I did use that one. See #193.
And it's still just as disturbing as the last time I read it.
Emptysaucer posted a comment on Saturday 14th June 2008 11:26am
Bunny - Harry exhausted from battle. voldy about to use killing curse, disappears in flash of light. Ash scolds harry about taking proper care of his pokemon and hands him a pokeball, with voldy inside.
another bunny - harry defensless and exhausted. voldy doing his whole "OMG i'm so great i'll take over the world" speech. A nearby muggle, annoyed by his bragging, pulls a note book out of his bag. Light Yagami writes Tom Riddle's name down in the Death Note.
(er...for that one to work, Harry would have to call Voldy by his real name at some point, as nicknames don't work with the Death Note.)
Crys replied:
Never watched or read any flavor of anime, so all of this is completely lost on me.
Eric Oppen posted a comment on Friday 13th June 2008 4:42pm
Voldemort stared in horror as Harry---Potter? changed form. From a skinny teenager with a shock of black hair to a tall, rangy man with brown hair. The man pointed a Muggle device at him.
"I know what you're thinking, punk. You think that this is just some Muggle gadget. Well, this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful gun in the world, and could blow your head clean off, so you have to ask yourself another question: Do I feel lucky ? Well do you---punk?"
"You're not Harry Potter!" screamed the Dark Lord.
"Too right I'm not. I'm Inspector Harry Callahan, of the San Francisco Police Department and the American Aurors." At that, all the Death Eaters in the vicinity threw down their wands and raised their hands very fast. Voldemort didn't---and found that he wasn't lucky.
"But---that's playing dirty, Harry!" screamed Peter Pettigrew, as Inspector Callahan cuffed him.
Harry grinned. "I know. It just makes my day!"
ShadeHawk posted a comment on Thursday 12th June 2008 9:08am
arry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer’s Stone omake:
[...] Seeing that everyone except the rabbit monster (Cabbit) on the girl’s head (Hermione's) was ignoring him Voldemort began to swear profusely. Ron suddenly knew why Voldemort was the most feared dark wizard of all time. Only the most evil being in all creation could use language so foul.
"Hey, there’s a lady present!" Ron yelled and drawing his wand cursed the foul evil the world had ever known with the same spell his mother had used on him every time she caught him swearing.
Harry and Hermione continued to argue, oblivious to the dark lord gagging at the taste of the lifebouy soap bubbling out of his mouth. They didn’t seem to notice until the soap bubbling out of Voldemort’s mouth had filled the chamber up to their ankles with soapy water and Voldemort lie face down in it. Apparently Mrs. Weasley’s curse reacted to how foul your language was using more soap to clean the dirtier mouth. Who knew it would spell doom for the dark lord?
Crys replied:
Bunny added to the file. Thanks.
Aelfwine posted a comment on Saturday 7th June 2008 4:31am
Here's another. Hopefully this hasn't been done already.
No particular crossover, although "greetings and defiance" is used in Diane Duane's Young Wizards novels.
---
In Fourth Year, Aldebaran Black invited Tom Marvolo Riddle to join the Fencing Club. "It's jolly good exercise, Riddle, much more of a gentleman's game than Quidditch. Lots of fine chaps in the club, what?"
"No thanks, Black. We've got wands; why should we play with old pig-stickers like ruddy knights or Cavaliers? Even Muggles don't bother with swords, anymore."
"It's great fun, old bean, and you'll meet fellows who'll be good to know later on in life. All of us chaps from the Old Houses learn, in case we've got to defend our honour someday. And Witches just love a man who can handle a blade. Makes their hearts go pitter-pat, makes ‘em reckon he must be good with the other kind of sword, what? So, what say? I'll sponsor you, of course."
"Thank you, Black," Riddle said, "but I'm afraid I shan't have any time for sport this year." How dare Black suggest that he, who would be a Dark Lord to make even Grindelwald and Dumbledore tremble, should mess about with a sword like some dirty primitive Muggle? One day, the "fine chaps" would serve him, or die. And their overgrown butterknives would not help them.
Five decades later, a white owl dropped a letter in his lap. He refrained from blasting the bird. It would be pointless, at the moment.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, called Lord Voldemort, Heir of the House of Gaunt,
Milord,
There is a matter of blood between our Houses. Following the ancient laws of Wizarding folk, I, the Head of House Potter, challenge you to single combat with sword and buckler. Let Earth and Air and Water and Fire witness that we will meet at noontide tommorrow, being the Eve of Saint John's Day, on the Field of Honour, otherwise known as the Quidditch Pitch, outside Hogwarts Castle.
Who does not appear, let him forfeit rank and magic and be known as craven before all. May God preserve the right!
Harry James, Lord Potter [his seal]
Voldemort drew his wand. The owl's tortured body would be his reply. But the curse failed on his lips.
"Forgive me, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy said, "but Potter has made a proper challenge. The old laws protect his messenger. Your revenge must be delayed until You have cut the brat to ribbons. Then, my Lord, You may slay his impudent bird in a fashion that will cause owls to tremble a thousand generations hence."
"Yes, Lucius," Voldemort said, and almost cursed the aristocratic ponce. Assuming he would play Potter's game? The opportunity was too good to waste, but still... "So, I suppose I'll need a sword. One must follow the proper forms."
The next day, Voldemort Portkeyed to the Quidditch Pitch. It amused him that his adversary's stupidity permitted him access to Hogwarts. After the boy, he decided, Dumbledore. Then he would cleanse the school of Mudbloods.
Malfoy's heirlooms hung from his belt. Ludicrous things, an overgrown letter-opener and a soup dish with a handle riveted on. A show of following the rules would hold Potter in place while he drew his wand. Fairness was for fools, after all.
The stands were full. Excellent, an audience for the victory which Potter had so graciously handed him. He drew sword and gripped his buckler.
His opponent stood on the field, looking pitifully small. He wore archaic garments of leather and wool; in his hands were a steel buckler and an ancient sword. Potter heirlooms, no doubt. Voldemort would keep them for trophies. They'd hang in some corner of his palace, a servants' stair or a lavatory.
"Milord," Potter said, "greetings and defiance. Shall we dance?"
"Idiot boy," Voldemort said, dropping the so-called weapons. "True Wizards use wands, not bits of Muggle metal. Ava—-" the wand burst to splinters in his hand.
"Not so, milord. It's the sword that settles affairs of honour between the Old Houses. So it has been since before Merlin," Potter said. "Do take yours up, milord. The Baron, my teacher and kinsman, would be ashamed did I slay a disarmed man. Even one who has much besmirched Slytherin House, of which it is his honour to be ghost."
"Why should I play your game, boy? Come, kill an unarmed man. Or let me depart, if you love your silly honour so."
"You shall not flee, milord. Magic itself will strike you down if you set one foot off this field before our combat ends."
"I will rise again, stronger. As I have done before."
"The old magic is stronger than your Horcruces." A frisson of unfamiliar emotion ran down Voldemort's spine. "Yes, milord, I know of them. And you shall know of Judgement, shortly. Come, milord, take up your sword."
Voldemort reached down and lifted the sword. In all his life, nothing else had ever felt so heavy.
Crys replied:
Scene added to the file. Thanks.
scott rockwood posted a comment on Thursday 5th June 2008 11:15am
with regards to #44, *points wand at own head* <OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE><OBLIVIATE>
Aelfwine posted a comment on Wednesday 4th June 2008 4:03pm
Well, here's one. Hopefully it's not too long, nor too smutty. Thanks!
-----
At the age of ten, Tom Marvolo Riddle walked in on the plumber and one of the orphanage's cooks in the scullery. Rumours whispered between the boys explained, in some measure, what he'd seen; it was his joy, after his Hogwarts letter, to think that the powerful beings amongst whom he was taking his rightful place would never engage in such undignified nonsense.
Unfortunately, Wizards proved to be much the same as Muggles. From Fourth Year on, young Witches, plus the odd Wizard, sought his attention; one of them, a Ravenclaw named Myrtle, had served as sacrifice for his first Horcrux.
When Lord Voldemort ruled the planet, Wizards would be rid of all such animalistic habits, and human beings would reproduce in a rational and civilised fashion. Alchemists would mix the elements of life in clean glass beakers. He would even remove the stupid bits from his improved model of Wizard, by the third generation at the very latest.
Therefore, linkage to the mind of an adolescent was torture. Every pathetic fantasy of hugs and kisses and fuzzily-envisioned naughty acts gave him a headache. When he killed Potter, he thought, the pleasure of revenge for all this would make the deed a hundred times as sweet.
No, a thousand times as sweet. Tonight's visualisations involved a muscular redhead, a bushy-haired brunette, and a lithe blonde, all of them together at once with Potter in a big soft bed. He recognised the three females from the incident at the Ministry. He would kill them slowly for fueling the boy's imaginings. Why, this vision was so detailed that at least one of the stupid bints must have allowed him to see her in the altogether.
Potter's male housemates were already slated to die, but now Voldemort would see that their deaths took at least a week, for supplying the illustrated French novels that must have inspired this loathsome fantasy.
Impossible. He realised, with dawning horror, that this was real. He struggled to draw his consciousness away, but Potter's mental defenses, previously hidden, now clamped down like a steel trap. He could almost feel what Potter was feeling, almost empathise with the boy's enjoyment of these revoltingly biological activities. And what was worse, the boy genuinely loved all three girls. And they him, and each other.
There was no such thing as love, he told himself. This squishy warm emotion was a fiction born of glands and bad poetry, but it felt real as rock and fire and the green bolt of the cleansing Curse and it was drowning him smothering him burning him away...
His consciousness popped into his next Horcrux, and there was an instant's peace, but then the ghastly feelings and sensations flooded back and he was lost again. Six times, and the last was only sweet relief.
"He's gone," Harry said. "By Merlin, he's gone."
"Truly?" Hermione said.
"Yes, my love," Luna said. "The threads of dark magic are all cut away from our Harry's scar. I see it with my Good Eye."
"So," Ginny said, "the Boy Who Lived and Loved has done it again. What now?"
Luna kissed her. "The four of us will just have to make sure he's dead. Once a day for... oh, about a hundred years should suffice."
"Thank heavens for the Moste Potente Potion," Hermione said.
"You mean," Harry said, "you really want to stay with me? All of you? It wasn't just... necessity?"
"If it had only been that," Luna said, "we never could have done it. Lust was only half of The Power The Dark Lord Knew Not."
Crys replied:
Scene added to the file. Thanks.
RainingFlowers posted a comment on Sunday 1st June 2008 12:43am
New bunny: Voldemort found out about Bellatrix's 'other job.' So he follows her when she slips away to Fleet Street, only to be met by a demented-looking barber by the name of Sweeney Todd, saying 'How about a shave'?
Anansii posted a comment on Saturday 31st May 2008 5:52pm
Wow - that last one (336) is truly horrific!
Killer07 posted a comment on Thursday 14th August 2008 8:28am