𝐀. ❝ you've ruined me." theodore spoke, his words falling quietly, "but i'd give you the rest of me to ruin if you ask, maya.
i'd fucking break for you .❞
and he did.
time after time, he set himself aflame and hoped
the warmth of his fall would...
tw: blood, upsetting mindset, mentions of torture, use of nicotine.
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Theodore'sability to differentiate between the pain, and the illusion that came from tasting it before, grows weaker by the day.
He felt unsafe in his own body.
In a way that would drive souls controlled by their own despair to commit the unforgivable.
Whispering voices flood the brunette's ear before he finds himself in the nearest bathroom, making sure his sewed skin hadn't bled open, even when it wasn't possible. For not a single severing charmhad embraced him in a year.
Yet he buries that knowledge and imagines his own affliction, tearing his sanity apart with harshness along the way, -
until his mind seeps the blood his stitched wounds couldn't.
The world hated him, he figured as much.
But Theodore wasn't pleading to reason with his written fate, he was simply confused.
Unable to comprehend how a man who no longer even roamed that world still had a such vile grip over those he once abused.
Like he never left.
Funny how most sinners, and in Hogwarts they were pinned as the misguided who possessed the mark, seek ways to forget every time the dark lord fed on their pain,
a pain one of his curses caused.
Because Voldemort had a sickening fascination with finding different spells to torture the death eaters who ever forced disappointment within his heartless ribcage.
He found a sense of nauseating peace in their strangled screams.
Till every person who followed him lived to grow familiar with that kind of agony. They no longer flinched at the smell of death and decay, when it bloomed beneath the ivies that enclosed their cellars, they recognized it.
And around four months ago, Theodore stopped looking for the flicker of obliviation, one that would take away anything unworthy of remembrance from him.
He'd learnt to hold onto the memories.
Only because they remind him that his affliction was once real.
And some would find that as disturbing as Voldemort's obsession with the aroma of fear.
