voldemort scream

widdershinner  asked:

i had a dream that voldemort started screaming when fred and george were throwing the snowballs at quirrell's turban and quirrell just stopped walking and started screaming in the middle of the yard so no one knew there was a dark lord on his head and all the owls thought he was an owl so started following him and screeching at him and pecking voldemort's face through the turban and that's how he lost his nose don't ask why

iconic

Harry Potter: Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort) [INTJ]

UNOFFICIAL TYPING BY: lover-of-grey-matters

Introverted Intuition (Ni): Tom’s Ni started showing when he was only a child. He already had a deep ingrained vision of his own specialty even before he knew he was a wizard. At the chapter ‘the Secret Riddle’ of the Half-Blood Prince, kid Voldemort was already well aware of his superiority and already had a clear sense of purpose. He intuitively found out his capability to converse with snakes. He went to Hogwarts and quickly had another vision, to investigate his lineage and to prove his superior bloodline. Then ultimately he had the grandest vision of them all: the ultimate superiority, immortality.  His Ni left stamp everywhere, the Horcruxes he made were from objects that meant a concept to him. His internal symbolism was not ‘conventional’ but subjective. He had no trouble making an old diary and a living snake Horcruxes along with Slytherin’s locket: because in his mind, they all underscore Slytherin connection. He came up with the idea of 7 Horcruxes because of what 7 symbolizes (the most powerful magical number). His Ni shaped his entire worldview- everything he did later on only served to fulfill his grand vision-his superiority over mankind, both in evading mortal fate and in dominating the world.

Extroverted Thinking (Te): Tom was methodical and systematic. His logic was objective, get things done logic. In this case, it took steps to achieve his goals. He started exercising his Te in school to systematically unearth his bloodline, then to extract Marvolo’s ring. From that point on, he calculatingly continued to frame people like Marvolo, Hagrid and Hokey. He took a job in the Borgin and Burkes, because it would give him access to powerful magical artifacts. His logic takes form of strategies and empirical plans that he executes, rather than subjective/‘unorthodox’ Ti.

Introverted Feeling (Fi): The number of times we are inside his head via Harry’s, we see him repeatedly consulting his own personal values, which are pretty well defined to himself. His morality is subjective and very unique, with no trace to his upbringing in Hogwarts or the orphanage (he developed bigotry and obsession with the purity of blood when he himself was half-blood and did not grew up in that kind of social settings). He views the world in a very black-an-white way. His Fi is unhealthy, so it caused him to take blunt actions over his ‘hurt’ feels (killing his entire paternal family). He is immune to criticism. And consistently relying on own morality/ethics resulted in him ignoring other people’s agendas, like Snape’s and Narcissa’s motivations for lying to him.

Extroverted Sensing (Se):  Voldemort’s Se seems to me baby Se, he is not quick on feat, every time he improvised, (like at the end of the Goblet of Fire, the Order of the Phoenix and the beginning of the Deathly Hallows) it backfired. In his moments of triumph, he can lose focus and fall prey to self-gratification (like after he was reborn, he dedicated an entire hour to monologue and theatricality).

Note:  I think book Voldemort is an INTJ rather than an ENTJ. I think an extrovert would have been more cozy in the spotlight and would want everyone to know who is the boss. But Voldemort is not- his method is to install a puppet Ministry, delegate tasks to useful idiots while he himself pursues his grand quests, like chasing elder wand.

His Ni is never lost between his tactics and impulses (like an ENTJ’s might), but its prominent. Te only serves to fulfill his vision.Voldemort’s Te is not as natural IMO as Hermione’s. He doesn’t naturally take command of the situation, he takes his time to act- he actually needs to go inward and re-counsel his grand vision every time something goes wrong. When he had to deal with the fact that Harry actually knew about the Horcruxes, his first action was to go inwards in deep thinking for a while.

He engages little with the world, its his legacy that matters first. He is not as ‘business-oriented and aggressive’ as an ENTJ should be (movie Voldemort screams a lot, but book Voldemort nearly always speaks softly). Instead, he is an 'INTJ, a visionary who are more hesitant to aggressively pursue something until it is fixed in their mind’.

“But what if He Who Must Not Be Named finds out about us?”

“Voldemort is not going to find out.”

“You don’t know him Harry, he has spies everywhere.”

“Draco, he’s not going to find out. Even if he does, it won’t matter, I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

———

“My thanks to you, Lucius, for bringing this… disgusting union to my attention.” Voldemort boomed, the Death Eaters around him hissing, laughing, and catcalling at the teen being held down on his knees at Voldemort’s feet. Next to Voldemort, being held in place by a death grip on the back of his throat, was a deathly pale blonde teen.

“Now, how shall we punish our dear young Malfoy?” Voldemort said, looking around at his Death Eaters as they called out horrible ideas and requests. But the look in the man’s eyes said he already had a sickening idea.

“Ah, perfect. Draco,” Voldemort turned to look at the teen next to him, while Draco continued to stare blankly at Harry. Harry’s head snapped up to lock eyes with Draco. “Draco, I want you to torture Mister Potter here. Seems a fitting punishment, don’t you think?”

“No.”

Voldemort’s eyes flashed at Draco’s immediate response, but his lips curled into a sickening grin as he pointed his wand at Draco, “Crucio.”

Draco’s blood curdling scream tore through Harry as the blond fell to the ground and curled into himself, writhing in pain as he screamed until Voldemort lifted the curse. “Torture him.”

Draco lifted his head, his eyes soaked in painful tears. He looked at Harry, who had tear tracks running down his face as well, Harry silently mouthed, It’s okay. Lucius, the one holding Harry down in his kneeling position, had turned his head away.

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking, Draco.” Voldemort responded softly, too calmly, pointing his wand once again at Draco. “Imperio.”

Draco’s body went rigid at first, as he tried to fight off Voldemort’s control. It was only a few moments, and then Draco’s body relaxed, his eyes glazed over, and he stood. Voldemort looked positively gleeful as he handed the boy his wand, and Draco slowly pointed it at Harry.

“I love you Draco.” Harry said softly, looking up at his boyfriend.

“Crucio.”

Harry’s head fell back as his spine arched and he screamed, eyes welling up with more tears. Tears for his pain, and tears for Draco. Lucius stepped away and let the boy fall to the ground. The spell only lasted for a moment, and Harry slowly got to his feet.

“Ah, it seems even my hate of you being channeled through Draco isn’t enough to make the spell have that much of an effect through the wand that your lover holds,” Voldemort laughed coldly, “At least as you die, you’ll know that he loved you. Now what was that spell that Severus told me about… Ah yes.”

“Sectumsempra!” Draco called out, and Harry was thrown off his feet, deep gashes opening up all over his torso and his blood spilling out onto the floor. Draco’s face remained completely passive, but tears began to form in the corner of his eyes.

“Much better Draco! Again.”

I love you Draco.

“Sectumsempra!” Draco’s voice shook as he called out the spell again, and Harry screamed out again and again, more deep gashes forming on his body as he rapidly lost blood. Draco’s tears spilled over down his cheeks, but Voldemort’s spell kept him in place.

Voldemort is not going to find out.

“Crucio!”

Harry’s voice broke as he screamed again, all the cuts all over his body making the Crucio spell feel ten times worse, even if it wasn’t as powerful.

I’m not going to let him hurt you.

“Crucio!”

It’s not me I’m worried about.

Harry’s screams were reduced to silent sobbing as his body rapidly paled, losing blood faster with every Crucio that Draco was forced to cast. Draco’s arm shook and he was openly crying now, tears streaming down his blank face.

“Just one more spell, Draco.” Voldemort said gleefully, his voice the only thing Harry or Draco could hear through the roar of physical and emotional pain.

“NO!!” Draco roared, finally breaking Voldemort’s hold and whipping around, punching Voldemort square in the jaw and catching him off guard before pointing his wand at the man, pure rage coursing through his veins, “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! CRUCIO!!”

Voldemort hissed in rage and pain, Death Eater’s flying out in black smoke left and right, none of them wanting to get caught in the crossfire as Draco cast Cruciatus after Cruciatus after Cruciatus, some of them hitting Voldemort and others exploding the walls around him. Some Death Eater’s tried to stop him, but Draco’s rage exploded in accidental magic that created a shield around him, and they too disappeared.

Draco finally stopped casting his spells and while Voldemort was stunned, he all but flew to Harry’s side, and had barely held the limp and bleeding boy to him before he apparated away.

They both landed with a thud just outside the wards of Hogwarts, Harry coughed up blood before falling still and Draco lifted his wand, desperately trying to think of every happy memory with Harry that he had.

The day that they admitted to themselves that they loved each other. Then the day that they admitted it to each other. The lazy broomstick rides around the castle that they promised each other wouldn’t be a race, but always wound up becoming so. The first day that Harry told his friends about Draco and tightly held his hand as Weasley exploded. Their first Christmas together. Draco’s official Weasley sweater.

Draco cried out and a bright white eagle burst from his wand and flew toward the castle. His hoarse cry rang throughout the castle as Draco fell to his knees at Harry’s side. Harry had not moved since they landed there.

He was so pale. He’d lost so much blood.

Draco collected Harry against his body and continued to scream in rage and sorrow that were tearing their way throughout his body. Harry still wouldn’t move.

“Harry! Harry! Wake up Harry!”

“Draco…” Harry whispered, through his eyes didn’t open, “It’s okay.”

Draco’s sobs turned into a historical laugh as he pulled Harry closer. He could feel Harry’s body growing colder against him and he could feel Harry’s labored breathing against his chest.

“You’re going to make it, right Harry?” Draco said, his voice growing higher in his hysteria, “You’re always okay in the end. You’re the Boy Who Lived.”

“Draco…” Harry’s voice was growing fainter, “Just… Just hold me… Okay…?”

“No no nononono,” Draco held Harry tighter to him, feeling Harry’s breaths growing fainter and fainter, and the labored heartbeat slowly fading away as he sobbed and screamed himself hoarse.

The last thing Draco saw before he passed out from shock and stress with a cold bleeding Harry in his arms, was a cat with glasses shaped markings around it’s eyes streaking towards him.

———

A/N: Hey guys! I know it’s been awhile since I posted anything, school and work has been crazy! So, anyways, here is some supper angsty Drarry to brighten your day!

Any questions or complaints can be left with @otpdisaster, as I got the prompts that inspired this story from their blog. :D

Attention all useless Death Eaters– Congratulations! If you’re reading this, it means you’ve overcome the limitations of your tiny manatee brains and opened a letter. Now if you’re asking yourself ‘Derrr, wait, I’m confused, is the Dark Lord talking to ME? Am I a useless Death Eater?’ simply ask yourself the following question aloud. 'Is my name Thorfinn, Peter, Severus, or Lucius Malfoy?’ If the answer to that is yes, then felicitations, this missive is for you!
—  Lord Voldemort [in a howler, sent to everyone]
Fic Idea: Years after the downfall of Voldemort, he comes back and as he's trying to acclimate to the world around him, he learns about the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts who happens to be none other than Harry Potter himself.
  • Harry: Smug about the irony of it.
  • Voldemort: Internally screaming.
Yours... a preview.

‘Voldemort!’

The sound of his screams was like… music.

‘Voldemort!’

The shrill cry filled with hate, fear, pleading, longing and so many other endless, tangled emotions…

'Voldemort!’

Nothing could have been sweeter than his name on his lips; a title which was taboo everywhere but within the confinements of his crystal cage…

Severus Snape was dead.

Draco Malfoy was barely alive, unconscious in St. Mungos’s, having not suffered from such a sinister blow… though he could still perish, yet…

The boy had somehow possessed his snake, his precious Nagini…

The sheer… audacity of it.

‘…Voldemort…’

But oh, how was paying for his defiance, now. It had been seven days, since the Dark Lord had allowed his human horcrux consciousness…

‘…V… Voldemort…’

…and his delicious cries had lessened every day.

Hysteria, numbness, hysteria, numbness. The Dark Lord could feel the cycle of his emotions even with his Occlumency barriers intact, they were that powerful.

‘…Vol…’

But lately, silence reigned.

Voldemort… deliberated.

How long should he make his captive suffer for his intolerance? How long should he make him regret his recklessness, his mindless, enraged actions? How long, how long…

The Dark Lord could not sleep.

He lay awake at night waiting for the echo of his name from his lips, and was increasingly disappointed when it did not come.

He wanted to hear it. Voldemort craved his screams more than anything in his entire, wretched existence.

It sounded like power.

Seven days and seven nights.

…Silence.

The Dark Lord’s patience finally waned.


Snippet for an alternative Ending to Mine, with maybe some references to what happened in Hauntingly. Anticipated one-shot. Expect much darkness.

For @Acnara.

Draco accompanies Voldy in meeting the Puff PT 3
  • Draco: God dammit, this is not my dre-
  • Voldemort: Silent, boy. She's near...I can sense it
  • Draco: Oh I am so sorry my Lord
  • Voldemort: This is no time for games, Malfoy. She's near!
  • Hufflepuff: Oh my goodness, Draco! Your hair is even whiter from close up
  • Draco: *screams*
  • Voldemort: *jumps into Draco's arms*
  • Hufflepuff: Guys come on. Voldy, when did you decide it to be a great idea to bring him along? He won't help you
  • Draco: Yeah what the hell, man? SIR...LORD. SORRY
  • Voldemort: What is your name, you small human being?
  • Hufflepuff: Why does it concern you? I thought you needn't know your enemies. Not as ruthless as people think you are? Sorry, that was mighty rude
  • Voldemort: Well, I guess you're right
  • Draco: I want to leave, my Lord. I am clearly not needed
  • Voldemort: No stay. She's interesting
  • Draco: *drops Voldemort and leaves dream*
  • Hufflepuff: *examining Voldemort from a distance* Why are you so sad?
  • *spirals of green clouds tornado into pitch black darkness*
  • Voldemort: *awakens* Why am I so sad?
VOLDEMORT HEADCANON

Do you know why Voldemort screamed when Bellatrix was killed? It wasn’t because he cared about her, but he was angry because in that moment he realised that his own flesh and blood, Delphi, would grow up motherless just like he did.

It wasn’t that he loved Delphi, but she carries the sacred Slytherin bloodline just like Voldemort himself. The Gaunt-Slytherin family was destitute and living in a shack when Tom Riddle came along. Voldemort grew up in poverty, a half-blood, envying anyone with access to a Gringotts vault. He slaved all his life to win the respect of the other pureblood families, to get back the glory his bloodline deserved. He probably thought the lot of the Salazar Slytherin bloodline had improved, seeing as his daughter was born mothered by a pureblood witch and would be raised with dignity into the wealthy Lestrange family.

He was angry when Bellatrix was killed, because now the Slytherin family, HIS family, was back to square one. The square he grew up in. The square of motherlessness and abandonment.

What he did not know was that his daughter would become a full orphan just ten minutes later. That without his power protecting Rodolphus, Rabastan and the other Death Eaters, they would go to Azkaban, and Delphi would be dumped to Euphemia Rowle who would never give a toss about her. She would grow up abandoned, just like Voldemort did.

Indeed perhaps it was good that Voldemort got stuck in limbo and never saw what happened to his own flesh and blood next. He never saw to what a huge extent he failed as a father.

“Why should I apologize for the monster I’ve become? No one ever apologized for making me this way.”

|| Ladies and gentlemen, may I present you my favourite villains….

► Loki Laufeyson

► Magneto 

► Tate Langdon

► Katherine Pierce 

► Chanel Oberlin

► Jerome Valeska

► Maleficent

► Lord Voldemort 


Dark Lord Ponderings

Lord Voldemort: *perusing around the glorious grounds of Malfoy Manor, avoiding peacocks, as recently resurrected, homeless Dark Lords tend to do*

Severus Snape: *appears*

Voldemort: Ah… My…wayward child… 

*wand raised* *death in eyes*

Snape: *instantly falls to knees* No! No, my Lord! (I really, really didn’t want to come here) I am your loyal servant even still! I-I only waited to heed your call until I was instructed to come on Dumbledore’s orders, so that I may work as you diligent, undercover spy… (like, I really didn’t want to come. At all).

Voldemort: *looks into black, bottomless eyes* *is unable to see the blatant lie there, because, evidently, the Dark Lord’s AmAaAaAaZiNg Legilimency skills are second only to Snape’s FaAaAaAbUlOuS acting skills* 

Hm… Yes, I see. You may rise, Severus.

Snape: I have years’ worth of information on Albus Dumbledore which I can provide for you, my Lord.

Voldemort: Very good. Walk with me, Severus.

*side by side perusing ensues. Peacocks watch with mild interest*

Snape: May I ask, my Lord… How this miracle of your resurrection has occurred?

Voldemort: Ah, you missed quite a spectacle, Severus. I had Wormtail cut off his hand for the potion after he dug up my father’s bone. I’m sure you’re familiar with that specific brew, for which I reconstructed this body. Obviously, if I had known you were still mine, I would have had you make it.

Snape: *is so happy to still have both hands* Yes, I am aware of that potion. Whose…whose blood did you use?

Voldemort: Potter’s, obviously. That was the whole thing. With the name in the goblet, and the tasks, and Barty, who was kissed by a dementor, which is a shame, but what can you do?

Snape: All that for the Potter boy’s blood…?

Voldemort: Well, yeah. He had powerful, ancient magic making it so I couldn’t touch him, Severus. I needed to overcome that obstacle and use his blood if I want to kill him.

Snape: Did…did you, my Lord?

Voldemort: …

Snape: I mean… you don’t need to touch him to kill him, do you? You could just… you know… 

*makes random wand movement*

Voldemort:

Snape: From…from a distance…

Voldemort:

Snape: Unless you plan on killing him with your bare hands, like in a muggle duel…?

Voldemort: What? No, of course not.

Snape: Then…then I’m just a bit confused, my Lord. As to why you suffered for so long in Pettigrew’s horrid company when you could have returned to power so much sooner.

Voldemort: *tilts head to one side* *observing peacock does the same* 

…Hm. You know, Severus, I am unsure. It just seemed very, very important to me that I be able to physically touch the boy.

Snape:

Voldemort: …Which I did. In the graveyard.

Snape:

Voldemort: He screamed.

Snape: *deep sense of foreboding*

Voldemort: I enjoyed it.

Snape:

Voldemort:

Snape: Y-yes…my Lord? 

(please don’t say it, please don’t say it, please, God—)

Voldemort: I think I might like to do it again.

Snape: *nausea*

Voldemort: And you’re going to help me.

Snape: Please don’t make me.

*lightning flashes* *thunder roars* *Voldemort has become a demonic and ungodly force of nature with a wand on Snape’s throat* *peacocks scream at the sudden tempest and their cries are the sound of the damned*

Voldemort: AM I YOUR LORD AND MASTER OR NOT, SEVERUS?

Snape: *falls to knees again* Oh, God, yes, yes! (I WILL KILL ALBUS DUMBLEDORE FOR MAKING ME COME BACK HERE) You are my Lord and Master! (I WILL KILL HIM SO HARD) I am your lowly and humble servant in every conceivable way! (I WILL KILL HIM RIGHT IN HIS STUPID, OLD FACE) Please don’t kill me!!!

*clouds part* *sun shines* *birds sing and peacocks resume peaceful strutting*

Voldemort: …Good.

Snape: *is a trembling mess on the ground*

Voldemort: This is going to be fun, Severus.

Snape: *can no longer feel body* *hates life*

Voldemort: We’re going to have fun.


So, like, as far as I’m concerned, this whole, sinful ship is just a hop and a skip away from canon, really.