Imagine This

Regulus Black | Imperius (PART ONE)

Regulus x Reader: Regulus comforts you after the Dark Mark is forced upon you.

Warning: Imperius Curse (used on reader); extremely abusive family dynamic

Word Count: 2.3k

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Reader's POV

You run through the halls, your family, past and present, chasing after you – portraits and corporeal forms alike melding, all trying to get to you before you can get out. Not that you even know how you'll get out, your parents definitely disconnected the Floo. They knew you didn't want this. They knew that you'd try to get out with every breath and beat you had in your body. You turned the corner, rushing into one of the secret corridors that your family's estate was teeming with, holding your breath.

"Y/N!" Your mothers voice remained just as calm as always, never a hair out of place, but it echoed loudly through the halls. "I will not allow you to besmirch the family legacy. Not like that Black boy!"

The Black boy in question, Sirius Black, had fled from being marked and damaged his family's reputation in the eyes of all the other families in Lord Voldemort's cohort. Now, you found yourself in the same situation but you had nobody to come save you. No, you had to get out yourself, you just had to make it to the outside and then they wouldn't be able to track you anymore. You just had to get outside and make it to Hogwarts. Somehow.

You were so intent on listening to the sounds of everyone chasing you running by, making sure that nobody stopped in front of the secret passageway, that you didn't notice the silent steps coming up the passageway. Didn't notice the distinct scent of mint and firewood that filled the air until a hand wrapped around your neck and a wand was pressed into your throat.

"Ah here you are, little sister." You slowly turned your head, tears already forming in your eyes, and came face to face with your older brother, Castian.

"Please..." Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "Please, don't make me do this. I don't want to do this."

"You will grow to like it." Mikhail, twin of the one holding you, sidled up next to the one holding you. His face held a sort of sadness in it, but he made no moves to free you from the hold of his twin. "We did."

"Ungrateful brat!" Castian didn't have anywhere near the restraint Mikahil did. "It is an honor to serve the Dark Lord. Everyone in our family has taken the Mark and we will not let the family go to ruin all because our spoiled little sister decided she was too good for the cause." He might as well have been speaking in Parseltongue with the hissing that his voice came out as. His hands were shaking, ready to explode all of his physical rage onto you.

Mikhail, ever-attuned to his twin's temperament, spoke up before he could lash out. "Brother, she cannot be beaten and bloody when presented to the Dark Lord. He would not like that."

They nudged you out of the corridor and out into the main hall that your family had just run through. Castian's wand remained at your throat, though the hand that was previously choking you now came down to clasp your two wrists, effectively putting you at his mercy.

"We've caught her!" Mikahil's normally-restrained voice yelled as his twin's grip on you remained merciless, not allowing for a single inch of movement.

You could hear the thundering of your family down the hall. The portraits made it there first, deceased relatives hissing at you from above your head. Then your mother rounded the corner, followed closely by your father and various aunts and uncles that had come to witness the youngest in the family getting Marked. Any hope you had within you sputtered out, sobs finally wrenching out of your chest, tears streaming down your face.