#Yandere Arcturus Black

[scaryspears]

Arcturus & Melania Headcanon

Arcturus and Melania were an odd couple that no one expected.

She was quiet and easily slipped by people, but also great at being diplomatic, and could've made a good lawyer or spy. That of course went hand in hand with Arcturus' aspiration to be a court judge in the ministry.

She had a kind heart, with a peculiar sense of humour, and just an overall warm person to be around. Arcturus was quite possessive of her, and got jealous easily, but he was covert about it. He didn't show her. A bit of a yandere, honestly. Any man he felt a little competition with? Critically injured, or never seen again.

Arcturus treated everyone he came across with respect, even mudbloods, which is why he was never suspected of being insane. He was recognised as one of the normal or civil Blacks.

Melania came from the Macmillan family, who were known for being a long line of Hufflepuffs. They were fairly middle class, but not to the same level as the Blacks.

The Black family didn't approve of Arcturus marrying her, but he stubbornly continued courting her, and they stayed together. It took 5 years for Melania to gain Sirius II approval, but it didn't stop the other family members from looking down at her. Out of all her inlaws, Lycoris was nicest to her, with Regulus I being second place. Being an unseen middle child, Lycoris understood what it's like to be visible when people wanted something from you, and confided in her. Regulus I was the baby of the family, and seen as harmless with the agonising need to prove himself. Melania couldn't help but see him the same way, and Regulus kind of hated her for it.

She didn't like playing favourites, but Lucretia was her favourite. Melania loved having a daughter to dote on and spend time with. She didn't love Orion any less, but found it hard to understand his interests.

Lucretia and Walburga didn't get along as children as they were constantly compared to each other: With Lucretia being the well behaved one, and Walburga being the spoiled brat. Melania would set up play dates for them whenever Violetta was unavailable to look after them, but Walburga hated visiting.

Orion inherited Melania's hardworking nature, and focused on his work, never thinking of dating. When Regulus I died, Arcturus started to worry and tried to match Orion with a suitress. Pollux took advantage of this, and convinced Arcturus to have Orion and Walburga wed. Melania was against it due to Walburga's beliefs on muggle hunting, and what that could mean for Orion's future children, but Arcturus' mind was set.

She was a very kind grandmother, and didn't voice disapproval over Sirius' ending up in Gryffindor. She tried to be a mediator surrounding Sirius' growing rebellion.

She occasionally volunteered to look after Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa since Cygnus and Druella were still in school. Melania worried that Pollux and Irma would poison their minds, and she had been correct to find that it had been the case with Bellatrix.

The Prewetts were lower classed, and everyone was horrified to find out that Lucretia became engaged to one. Melania convinced Arcturus to give his blessing, reasoning that if they could marry for love then their daughter could. She used the fact that Orion was an heir against Arcturus, thus being the only one they should truly worry about. It's thanks to her that Lucretia wasn't burnt off, especially after Molly Prewett married into the Weasley family.

A lot of the family members believe that Melania cursed the bloodline, and that Arcturus was a fool to fall in love with her.

Edit: I assumed Lycoris was a boy's name and always thought he or she was male. I like the idea of Arcturus, Lycoris & Regulus being a trio of brothers. I thought it would be funny if there was a doppelganger trope within the family.

Callidora, Cedrella & Charis. Walburga, Alphard & Cygnus. Bellatrix, Andromeda & Narcissa. Arcturus, Lycoris & Regulus.

[a-reverii]

▸ WRITTEN IN THE STARS⌇regulus black.

› pairing ━ ꒰ regulus black x shy!reader ꒱

› in which ━ ꒰ two almost-strangers meet one another by coincidence, and find that they may have more in common than they initially thought. ꒱

› content warning ━ ꒰ light flirting ; angst (?) ; basically no warnings. mainly just two people chatting. very slightly ooc regulus, ig (just has to do w/ his views), etc. ꒱

› word count ━ ꒰ 3 . 2k ꒱

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

A YAWN PASSED THROUGH your tired lips as you gently laid yourself down onto your soft bed, slipping underneath the covers as to protect yourself from the cold air of your dormitory. Your eyes fluttered shut as you awaited for a peaceful slumber to consume you — one that never did.

It was rather impressive — impressively idiotic, that is, that you could spend an entire day wishing that you were asleep, but once your body was given a comfortable bed and the silence needed to do so, you felt more awake than you ever had over the long course of the day.

It was for this very reason that you found yourself now sauntering about the halls of Hogwarts, a book held snuggly between your chest and your arms. It was already nearing midnight by the time you'd decided to leave your dorm, coming to the conclusion that, if you could not sleep, it was better to appreciate the night for what it was worth.

Though you were able to remain relatively quiet, the halls seemed to resound with the sound of your footsteps. You'd never been one for breaking rules. Even now, you found yourself pausing to listen for any sounds that would indicate the presence of another, in the case that a professor, too, was wandering the halls. Though it didn't make very much sense — after all, the teachers required just as much rest as the students — you were at times convinced that some of the professors never slept.

Not that you could blame them. There was no doubt that many of the students in Hogwarts were skilled in the art of troublemaking.

You hadn't even realized that you'd entered a classroom until you noticed the faint flickering of a candle's light, sending some of the shadows dancing along the walls. Moonlight bled in through the large window that occupied the majority of the tower's walls, casting a faint silver hue throughout the room. You'd entered the Astronomy Tower, and it seemed as though you were not alone.

Before you sat none other than the silver-eyed, raven-haired boy by the name of Regulus Black, his eyes trained on a novel in his hands.

You knew of Regulus. Though you'd seldom spoken to him outside of the context of classes, it was common knowledge that he was the younger brother of the notorious Sirius Black. He was a reserved boy, not unlike yourself, but a stark contrast to his brother, and exuded a certain coldness and respectability. You often noticed him reading in the library or even in the few classes the two of you shared, sitting by himself or with his small group of Slytherins.

"I haven't seen you up here before."

You jolted at the unexpected voice. Lost in your own thoughts, you had deliberately failed to notice that Regulus was no longer consumed by his book, and was instead staring directly at you.

"I'm — I'm sorry?"

"No one usually comes up here — not at this time, at least," the boy explained. "I didn't expect to have any company."

"O—oh." You replied, pursing your lips. "I could... leave, if you'd like?"

Regulus shrugged, his eyes returning to the pages of his book. "You don't seem like you'd be much of a bother."

You nodded, awkwardly looking back at your own book, not yet having decided where to sit. You were unsure if he wanted to continue talking with you or if he wanted to be left to his solitude, so, after some thought, you situated yourself some good distance across from Regulus, not so far that the two of you could not converse but not so close that you or he would feel compelled to do so.

"You're in my potions class."

Startled yet again by the sudden statement, you looked up from your novel to find Regulus watching you carefully.

"I am," you breathed.

Regulus nodded to himself thoughtfully, and you could swear that a ghost of a smile danced along his lips.

"I remember, now. Y/n, isn't it? Slughorn has a certain fondness for you. He complains of your absence at his dinner parties."

"He does?"

"Nearly every time."

You considered his words. "I've — I've never been very interested in the prospect of attending one. Are they... any good?"

"They're dreadful."

Your brows furrowed. "Why do you go, then?"

"My parents would never let me refuse such an opportunity."

You could understand this. You supposed the only reason you were able to spend your nights without Slughorn's presence was because you had never told your parents of the invitation in the first place. Though, you suspected that even if you had, you would still find some way to avoid the dinners. Social gatherings were never something you particularly fancied.

"That makes sense, I suppose."

The two of you maintained a prolonged eye-contact, before you inevitably looked away, deterred only by the impenetrable nature of his stare. You could feel, however, that Regulus's eyes did not falter from you, and you tried to ignore his piercing gaze by focusing on your novel.

"You're reading Pride and Prejudice?" Regulus then questioned after some time, one brow raising in what appeared to be curiosity.

"You know of it?"

"I've read some muggle literature. I haven't read it myself, but I most certainly have heard of Jane Austen."

"You've — you've read muggle literature?" You echoed, utterly bemused. Though you didn't normally assume such things, you'd never imagined that Regulus Black, known Slytherin and blood-purist, would find any interest in literature that was not written by someone of magical descent.

"When I find myself alone, yes, I occasionally give it the benefit of the doubt."

You stared at Regulus, quite nearly impressed.

"I don't believe I've ever heard of a pureblood that willingly reads non-magical literature, even fiction."

He offered you something akin to a half-smile. "Well, I am not as tasteless as the rest of my family. I don't believe one needs to be of magical descent to be skilled in the art of writing." He paused. "Speaking of, you know of them?"

"Well, I — everyone knows of the Blacks, don't they?"

Regulus shrugged. "I suppose they do."

A silence followed, and although a certain tension was present, the quiet was not entirely unbearable.

"Why have you come up here so late?" He asked you after a few beats.

"Couldn't sleep," you replied simply. "You?"

"I needed some time to think. I find that this tower is the perfect place to do so, when not filled to the brim with students and teachers."

You felt the beginnings of a smile tug at your lips. "It truly is."

Your eyes fixated upon the night sky, and a quietness settled oncemore.

Some idle conversation passed after this, coupled with even more silence, but the quiet was not unenjoyable. You’d always quite liked silences — they always made thinking much easier, but your appreciation of them seemed to be enhanced in the boy’s company, something you would have never suspected. To be fair, however, the mere fact that you had any company at this hour was something that you would have never guessed would happen.

"I should head back to my dorm," you then said, getting up in a rather abrupt manner. You did not know why you did so. You weren't yet tired, but you felt a sudden need to return to the safety of your bed — felt it suddenly and quite intensely.

“So soon?” Regulus didn’t seem too troubled by your potential departure despite his words, his eyes wandering over to the book in his hands and his expression so perfectly indifferent. You couldn’t tell exactly why, but you felt a certain sadness at the thought of him not caring, not that you could very much blame him if he didn't. He hardly knew you. 

“I just remembered that I have an exam in Herbology. I don’t want to be any more tired than I should be.”

The lie rolled easily enough past your tongue, but you knew that Regulus could tell that what you were saying was not the exact truth as he nodded and leaned against the wall, narrowing his eyes upon you for all but a moment before opening his book. 

You stared at him for perhaps a moment too long before you made your leave. 

“Wait.”

Your footsteps came to a halt just as you reached the doorway. You turned. 

“Come back,” Regulus said, and you felt your eyebrows knit together at the statement. “If — if you cannot sleep any other night, come back. Your company is not entirely intolerable, and I come up here nearly every night.”

It was a question in the form of a demand, and you could tell such by the way Regulus seemed to shift awkwardly in his spot, his eyes holding something indescribable behind them. Nervousness, perhaps. It was odd. No one had ever acted nervous around you before. 

“If I am ever particularly energetic,” you agreed, before disappearing into the hallway. 

* * *

You thought of that night for the rest of the week. 

Your mind mulled over every word spoken, every moment of silence that the two of you had shared. You had little idea of why this very interaction occupied your thoughts in such an obsessive manner. It was a mere coincidence that you had found and spoken to Regulus; nothing more. Still, some small part of you hoped it wasn’t. 

It was, in hindsight, rather foolish that you forgot that you and Regulus shared Herbology among other classes. When you lied, for some strange reason you were under the impression that Potions was your only class in common. 

If Regulus was angry or annoyed, he didn’t show it — only shot you some small, knowing smile when your eyes met that made your stomach turn. He did not make any effort to speak or interact with you, and this made you feel all the more guilty — you didn’t want to make him think that you disliked him in the slightest. If anything, his presence had been refreshing. 

Other than this, classes went on as they usually did: slowly, painfully. 

It wasn’t until the next week that you decided to return, figuring that the only remedy to what was now your inability to think of anything but school and of the Astronomy Tower was by returning to it. 

Your footsteps echoed throughout the room, quiet but loud all at once. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that Regulus looked somewhat surprised at the sight of you. It was, perhaps, wishful thinking that he then smiled, but he was undoubtedly startled by your presence, and at this you felt a certain satisfaction. 

“Hi,” you greeted, not very sure of what else to say. You always found that interactions with just barely acquaintances and almost-friends were more difficult than those with strangers. A lack of familiarity was something that was in itself familiar to you, but a small amount of such was something you were much less used to. 

“Hello,” Regulus responded after a moment. “Trouble sleeping?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I could.”

Regulus nodded.

Though there was some initial awkwardness, it was soon mollified by a steady stream of conversation, ranging from topics that evolved from trivial things to what could have perhaps been considered philosophical discussions — not that you disliked this in the slightest. In fact, you were beyond glad to have someone to speak to on topics that transcended the simplicity of day-to-day life.

From that night on, you found yourself, much to your dismay, only thinking more of Regulus, of your discussions. However, you couldn't bring yourself to stop your visits. Instead, you allowed them to become part of your routine. Visiting Regulus soon became something you expected.

* * *

"Are you usually this quiet?"

Regulus's voice startled you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry?"

"Well, and I don't mean for you to take any offense, but you are awfully quiet. And considering my own nature, that's especially odd for me to say."

You pursed your lips. You'd always known yourself to be quiet, but remaining so made you the most comfortable. Besides, idle conversation and small talk had never been a fortitude of yours.

"I have a loud mind."

Regulus hummed at this, and your heart skipped a beat at his next words. "Would I hear it if I got closer?"

"Maybe.”

Regulus took a seat beside you and leaned against the wall, admiring the stars.

A silence ensued, one in which the two of you merely gazed at the stars, appreciating the way they flickered from bright to brighter, expertly illuminating the night sky.

"Are you any good at Astronomy?" Regulus then inquired, his voice piercing through the quiet.

"I like to think so. When I was... when I was young, I always wanted to learn about the stars." You sighed contently, bending your knees so that you could rest your chin against them. "Are you?"

"My parents didn't name me after a star with the expectation that I'd be bad at it."

You hummed in response, before you felt a smile curve your lips, and eventually your giggles filled the air.

"What?" Regulus asked, a bemused smile on his visage.

You allowed your laughter to dissipate before you spoke. "I'm sorry, it's just — I just realized that it's rather ironic, that your name is Regulus and you just so happen to be in the Astronomy tower this late at night, every night."

Regulus, at this, felt his smile grow, until peals of laughter too fell from his lips and danced with yours. He liked your laugh, he thought to himself.

It wasn't even something that was particularly funny. Ironic, yes, but nothing to warrant this fit of laughter from the both of you. You had, in all honesty, no true understanding of why this affected you so, but you mused that it may have had something to do with your company.

When your laughters finally quieted down, a comfortable silence settled, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at Regulus, at the way his eyes squinted and his lips curved so perfectly when he smiled — a true, unbridled smile. And for one brief, foolish moment, you mind toyed with the idea that he may have been one of the most beautiful boys you'd ever seen. You didn't allow the thought to mingle in your mind, however, as he opened his eyes and spoke.

"Do you not find it difficult, being by yourself so often?" Regulus then questioned suddenly, pausing.

"I — I see you in the halls or during feasts occasionally. You never seem to have very much company, or when you do, you never seem to be engaging in very much conversation."

He noticed you. You didn't know why you felt so struck by his sudden statement. Perhaps it was the question itself, one that you'd so often asked yourself, sitting in your dorm or in the library, so close yet so far from everyone else. Or, perhaps it was because he saw you, someone he'd never before talked to outside of the safety of these nights, where social standings meant virtually nothing — that even though you often thought yourself to be so, you weren't nearly as invisible as you thought.

"I... I will admit, it can be lonely, at times, being alone. I mean — I do like being by myself, but I don't fancy being alone as often as I am. I think... I think, though, that it can be just as lonely as having superficial friendships or relationships where you don't really like each other, but you're just staying together for comfortability or for fear of change. I just so happen to not spend my time trying to nurture something that I know will never truly grow."

Regulus hummed at this, his eyes wandering back to the stars. He then closed his eyes, and you admired the way the silver light of the moon seemed to make his skin glow.

"Now that I'm thinking of it, I don't think I quite like my friends."

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "In fact, I don't believe I'd have any if keeping up appearances was not important. Every one of them either have an awful nature, or they lack any sort of intelligence."

"Why wouldn't you like them? They sound lovely."

Regulus smiled, and you couldn't help but mirror his expression. "Not nearly as lovely as you are."

Your smile faltered, but then grew as your eyes fixated themselves onto the floor. You wanted to tell him, that though the both of you didn't spend time together outside of the cover of darkness that you also thought that he was lovely, that you wanted to speak to him again the next night, and then the next, and then the next — that you looked forward to seeing him all day, that your heart skipped a beat whenever he sat nearer than usual, that whenever your skin so much as accidentally brushed against his, any doctor in their right mind would think that you belonged in a hospital by the way your heart was racing. That there was just something about him — something so very indescribable that drew you to him.

But you never were very good with words, so you hoped that your heated cheeks and the silence between the both of you spoke loudly enough on your behalf.

"I want you to come to the Yule Ball with me."

At the sudden words, your head shot up to find Regulus staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I... what...?"

"My friends are bringing dates to the ball, as everyone seems to be doing, and... I don't believe I'd truly want to go with anyone but you."

You opened your mouth to reply, but felt utterly unable to truly respond the way you wanted to. You so desperately wanted to reply with an exuberant 'yes', but so startled by the statement, you were having trouble expressing this. He wanted to take you to the ball. You hadn't even anticipated going, suspecting that, if you did, it would be alone, or with some friends who already had dates — and you knew better than to third wheel at events such as those.

"I don't want you to feel compelled," Regulus muttered after a moment. "It's merely a proposition. If you don't want to — "

"I do," you then blurted. "I... I would love that — to go with you. To the ball."

Your heart fluttered as a radiant smile curved Regulus's lips, and already you knew it was worth it. If all did not go well — if the ball was not all that you would expect it to be, just his smile made it worth it.

"Brilliant. Well, I'll... I suppose we'll have time to discuss everything else later."

You smiled, breathing a laugh. "Lots, I'd imagine."

You hadn't even realized how very close Regulus sat until you stared at him with a certain twinkle in your eyes, one of amazement and admiration — one that could perhaps turn into something even more.

And then, maybe without realizing it, Regulus leaned forward, you following his actions until your lips met in the softest of kisses.

And, Merlin, was it one of the most tender things you'd ever experienced.

Regulus was gentle, his touch on you electric, and you grinned against his lips as his hand just barely grazed the skin of your cheek, before resting there to support your face.

You, too, were shy at first, but your fingers managed to tangle themselves in his dark curls, something you'd wanted to do for much too long.

You had no idea how long he had been kissing you by the time he finally stopped — hours, minutes, seconds — they were all meaningless in those few, blissful moments. So, before you could think of anything else, you spoke.

"Kiss me again."

And he did.

[slytherwrites]

Hello, I hope I am not disturbing you. Your writings are great. If you are getting requests, can you write for yandere husband Pollux Black, Crygnus Black, Orion Black, Alphard Black, Severus Snape, Gellert Grindelwald, Aberfort Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore? Please

You're not bothering me at all! I love requests! Here are your husbands lol

Characters: Pollux Black, Cygnus Black, Orion Black, Alphard Black, Severus Snape, Gellert Grindelwald, Aberforth Dumbledore, and Albus Dumbledore

TWs: Yandere Content, implications of forced sex, implications of forced pregnancy

Pollux Black

There was no denying it. Pollux was drunk out of his mind.

He'd always carried himself with guilt. A twin who's brother died in the womb. The firstborn son of his father, thus complicit in whatever he wanted, in order to keep his place in the family. He was man who's back was so spineless that it should've curled in on himself already. A disappointment, not proving himself better than Arcturus and not securing the switch in power between his branch of the family and Arcturus'.

But he was you husband, and you had to stick by his side.

"Baby," He crooned in you ear, "You know I love you. You know your the only one for me."

"I am aware."

"Oh, darling I need you, there's no one else for me." He continues, "Love is just what keeps me going. And love is just you in that dress."

"Is that some song?"

"Loving you is just what I do best..."

You take the cup from his hand and slip him out of his formal robes. The reception is over. Cassiopeia got out of this family and is married to someone who loves her. You wish you could say the same.

"It's how I feel, darling." Pollux continues, "I can't stand to see people around you."

"I'm all yours, Pollux." You tell him, "I'm all yours."

"When are you going to act like it then." He whines as more layers get removed between the two of you. You've holed up in the main manor, in one of the side rooms. Pollux is too drunk to apparate or use the floo network. And nobody in the Black Family would dare be seen riding the Knight Bus.

"I do act like it." You tell yourself, "I'm yours, Pollux."

"You don't say I love you. You recoil from my touch. You refuse to call me anything other than my first name." Pollux's tone gets serious, "You don't act like you love me."

"I love you." You tell him.

He grabs your shoulders and throws you onto the bed with him, "Then start acting like it."

"Pollux—" You tried to put some distance between the two of you, "Pollux, wait."

"No." His tone was much more sober, even if he was still slurring his words, "No. You are mine. Quit acting like you're not."

"Please—" You start but he interrupts you, "No! No. You are my wife. You shall act like it."

"I do!" You try to get back onto your feet, "I do!"

"I am your husband and you are my wife." He says, "We shall be one. We shall grow ourselves—our family."

What he means dawns on you and you know that this was always a part of your marriage contract, but you believed that by the time it happened, you'd be in love with him.

You tried and your tried but the light are off and the curtain is closing. This performance is over and act two's about to begin. This time, with a proper pureblood family from the two of you.

Cygnus Black

Cygnus was raised as a righteous man. He has a duty to the family—to live long and prosper. And he wanted to do that with you. Second-born son of the second-born line, he wasn't close to leading the family, even in his wildest dreams.

But he could lead his own family. And he wanted to create that family and that legacy with you and you alone.

"Spin." Your dress robes shimmered with the brightness of the stars themselves, the glimmer bouncing off of them in the waves of your turns, shining as bright as you do.

You don't say anything to him as he takes in your figure. You need to be perfect for him. It is your wedding day, after all.

"Muggles wait to see what they're partner is wearing until they are right in front of them." Cygnus notes, "What fools they are."

"How do you know what muggles do at weddings?" You try to laugh, tease him so that this moment isn't as daunting for you.

"Because I do." Cygnus growls, "Don't question your husband."

"You're not my husband yet." You laugh weakly for your own sake. Cygnus has always been quick to anger, quick to contempt. Hopefully you're quicker—especially than he is at action.

"Look at me." He grabs your arm and squeezes until all of the blood rushes from the hold, "You do not question me. I am your husband. It would behoove you to learn that quickly."

"Alright." You rub your wrist, comforting yourself, "I understand."

"I'll train you up. Don't worry." He says, "You'll learn before our children are born. You'll be an optimal parent. You'll be the perfect spouse. I'll make sure of it."

Somehow, you silently note, that you know that you'll never be as perfect as he needs, no matter how much he teaches and you endure.

Orion Black

Orion Black looked at you with a gaze so sharp it could pierce your body and soul. His straight black hair was combed neatly. His eyes were concrete grey and he kept his face just with the hints of what his beard could be if he didn't shave it regularly. His suit was crisp and clean and his shoes shined like motor oil.

He was well dressed and angry at something. And he was looking at you to fix it.

You took the initiative, silently accio-ing a bottle and a glass, pouring him a drink and then handing it to him. "Rough day?"

He takes the glass you offer, "News you won't like."

"What is it?" You ask, "I can handle it."

"I know, darling. You're so strong for me." Orion takes a sip of the drink and bridges the gap between the two of you, taking your hands into his, "They know the gender of Druella's baby."

The realization dawns on you, "Another girl."

"Yes," He offers you a sympathetic smile, "You've always been bright."

"I don't think coming to that conclusion took much brain power."

"I talked with my grandfather. He's expecting us to pick up the slack."

"Have the heir." You fill in.

Orion nods.

"No." You put your foot down, "That was the deal. I was to stay with you, play the perfect Black Family Wife and I would remain financed, protected, and untouched."

"That was if Cygnus was able to have a male heir." Orion says, "Do you think that I want to go back on that arrangement?"

"Then don't!"

"And have Bellatrix be the next Head of the Black Family?" Orion asks, "I'm already set up to be heir. It was always expected of me."

"It's not going to be expected of me."

"Yes it was." Orion's grip tightens, "We are already wed. You are mine. You cannot leave. Now you can do this the easy way, or I'll imperio you."

"You wouldn't."

He looks you in the eye and reaches for his wand. He doesn't say the words outright, but you made a deal with the devil so he wouldn't hurt you further. And maybe you will have to slide back on that deal a bit. But if you didn't, he'd take it painfully. And he would feel as if he could take more and more out of you.

You can keep some semblance of control this way. And what's one kid in the grand scheme of things?

Alphard Black

Alphard Black loved you to the moon and back. He was Hephaestus and you were Aphrodite, but like the mythical husband and wife, you were not loyal.

No, you'd found your Ares.

A muggleborn, in fact. Some man in the French Ministry of Magic who's been in Britain working on a project. Alphard didn't care who he was or what he done, except for when it was with you.

He used muggle means of subduing him. He's always been fascinated in the magicless. After all, he took you as his wife, even after his family threatened him.

It took all of his convincing to prove that you'd be a good partner, despite being a squib. You can still produce magical children after all. And he's not of the main line anyways.

But you had to go and fuck it up, didn't you?

He has your man tied up in a chair in the parlor, stripped of his wand and his clothing. He was still out cold and you came running when your darling husband told you oh, so sweetly that he had a surprise for you.

He stands over and behind your passed out lover. He's able to see your face when you notice what's gone on. And he can see the horror on your face as you see his manic smile.

"Alphie... what did you do?" You take a step closer, kneeling in front of your lover, "Alphie! What are you doing!"

"Don't Alphie me, sweetheart." He replies, "I saved you from a horrid life in the muggle world and this is how you repay me? By fucking some muggleborn swine!"

"Alphie, it's not what you think..."

"No, baby, it is what I think." He says, "I've been working and you've had a bit too much free time. So you took a man who would give you that attention. I'm sorry, darling. But I'll give you the attention you deserve."

"Alphie, please!" You try to reason with him, but he grabs a knife, "You can't do this!"

"Oh but I can. Knife to the head, incendio for the corpse, and aguamenti to put out the flames. It's simple, really."

You try to run to your lover, standing with him so that if Alphard was to light him ablaze, he'd have to do so to you as well. But Alphard casts a spell you don't recognize and you fall to the floor as you loose consiousness.

You come too as the fire dies down. Your lover no more than ashes. Alphard has himself pressed against your back, arms around your waist. He's singing the song at your wedding and it dawns on you:

You can never escape. You will never escape. The world that you admired so much and was desperate to be a part of you had a chokehold on you so strong that you were unable to leave it, even if you wanted to.

Severus Snape

You were in this marriage for your own personal protection.

The Snape name wasn't known as a Wizarding name just yet, but Severus was a halfblood. He could trace his lineage.

You could not, on account of being a muggleborn.

Honestly, with how Severus acted, you'd wished a death eater would take you out already. It wasn't nearly as torturous as being the wife to such an insufferable man.

"Darling," His slow manner of speaking irritated you, as if you couldn't handle him speaking any faster than this, "You mustn't linger about like that. You seem unhappy."

"And what if I am unhappy?"

"With the favor I have provided you?" He asks, "It would be foolish of you."

"Then call me a fool."

In all honesty, he was right. Staring out the window in the muggle home the two of you shared wasn't healthy for you. It only served to remind you of the home and happiness that you have since lost.

You change the subject, "How is your lord faring?"

"Better, now that he's decided on whomst his biggest threat is."

"Not Albus Dumbledore?"

"No, not Albus Dumbledore." Severus won't tell you more than that and you do not push the matter.

"Anything interesting in the potions you've been making?"

"No." He replies, "It is all the basics for getting a potions mastery. I will have to show it to the Potions Mastery Committee, down at the Ministry."

"You're heading into London?"

"I was planning on flooing, actually."

"Pick me up a new book." You turn to look at him, seeing him flip through the pages of his own book, "I've finished the last in that series and I want something of a similar author."

"Alright." He replies, not looking up at you. You look at his face, still ever-present in his book.

You suppose that he could be worse. He could be active in this situation, not just complacent in your slow torment under this roof. He could lay an unjust hand on you. He could treat you like the other wives of Death Eaters.

There is a mercy in how he acts. There is love in his distance.

You could reciprocate it, you could let it grow and blossom. But for now, you let the waves splash softly against the sand that is the foundation of your relationship with the man.

Gellert Grindelwald

Gellert Grindelwald doesn't love you.

The truth of the matter is that he's never loved anyone, only having obsessions. And, for all of his life, he's only been obsessed with two individuals: Albus Dumbledore—and you.

The fact that you have something in common with Albus Dumbledore makes you laugh. Him, one of the greatest wizards of all time, and you, a witch with so much self-loathing you almost formed an obscurus.

Almost, being the key word. For Gellert Grindelwald made it certain that you would not succumb to this deadly affliction, that you would find love within yourself and the world and its magic, so that you would keep on living.

And, it was all so he can keep you funneled away, hidden from the rest of the world in a small flat near Godric's Hollow.

It's embarrassing really, how quickly you fell for him. And yet, he does not love you, even after all that he did to make you love him.

You just stare off into the fireplace, awaiting his arrival. Because he's the only thing that keeps you from slipping into that state again. He's the only thing that brings you joy.

Aberforth Dumbledore

Aberforth wasn't the gloriest of husbands you could of had.

In all honesty, you befriended him to get closer to Albus. That was the real catch, your mother told you. Handsome, intelligent, hardworking—the world was falling at his feet and you could've been the woman smiling by his side, perfectly cared for and content while he tool the Wizarding World by storm.

But Aberforth had to actually take a liking to you, one he took violently, one that tarnished your reputation afterwards.

One thing lead to another and there was a child between the two of you. Aberforth made you an honest woman and you got yourself stuck with a child you didn't want, a job you hated, and a husband you hated even more.

At least nobody cares about what you did, out of wedlock. It's been decades now. You and Aberforth are over a century old. So is Albus.

And even if you can't call Albus Dumbledore yours, you still get to be near him and bask in his intellect. You two are friends, even if you always wanted to be something more.

Albus Dumbledore

He was an odd man. Never violent, even if you wished he would be.

He was kind, wise, put love as the forefront of everything, even though you didn't love him.

You didn't even like him. No, you were filled with pure, unadulterated hatred for your husband.

He's a gentle man. Smart, intelligent, caring. He keeps to himself on most occasions and lets you roam the walls of Hogwarts freely, just like you did, when the two of you were students.

You remember him well, you suppose. Back then, he wasn't like this. Back then, he was easier to endure. Back then, your dislike of him was validated.

Now, he's the war hero and headmaster of the greatest wizarding school in the world. He's saved countless of lives and mentored everyone who's walked through the walls of Hogwarts for the past century or so.

And it's exhausting, staying by his side. You're expected to be a proud person, prideful in your husband's work and all he has done, joyful in how the Dumbledore name has flourished and grateful for the man you've married.

But you are not here willingly. You would not have joined his side by choice.

You honestly hope Minister Fudge finds a way to oust him. Maybe his crimes in the wars will be released. Maybe he'll keel over and die already.

Because being the partner to such a perfect man is exhausting. Especially when you're the only one who sees all of his flaws.

[xysidhe]

So my best friend has been forced is willingly reading the first chapters of my new starchaser/wolfstar/canon divergent everyone WILL live fic and her responses are golden.

"When i read about the Black Brothers when you are writing them, it's like a tragic melody. "

"Also, I'm already crying for these boys."

"THIS CHAPTER IS BREAKING ME"

"That's honestly where I started to tear up. Reggie's letter back is ugh, so perfect "

"The knife is such a nice touch 👌 Reggie feeling the bitterness of jealousy is my favorite thing so far"

"Omg, it was so fucking good. Chapter 2 is my favorite so far"

So thats what everyone has to look forward to once I get enough written that I feel comfortable posting! Which at the rate I'm writing should be? A week? Maybe two?

[a-reverii]

⭑ 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ⭑

— 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

dating regulus black.

— 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒.

this shelf is empty

— 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒.

written in the stars. ⋮ ( fluff )

in which, two almost-strangers meet one another by coincidence, and find that they may have more in common than they initially thought.

to love and to lose. ⋮ ( angst )

in which, your lover is gone, and you have no idea what to do about it.

people help the people. ⋮ ( angst , hurt / comfort )

in which, regulus had been avoiding you and you come to discover why.

— 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.

this shelf is empty

← back to masterlist.

[a-reverii]

▸ PEOPLE HELP THE PEOPLE⌇regulus black.

› pairing ━ ꒰ regulus black x reader ꒱

› in which ━ ꒰ regulus had been avoiding you and you come to discover why. ꒱

› content warning ━ ꒰ allusions to bad family life ; hurt / comfort ; angst ; talk of voldemort and some things that entail ; mention of cigarette usage. ꒱

› word count ━ ꒰ 1 . 1k ꒱

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

IT WAS COLD. Much too cold to be outside. Rain drenched everything in sight, leaving the castle and its grounds damp and dull. The trees and the grass did not stand tall nor mighty as they usually did, but shrunk against one another, waiting for the grey clouds to clear, fearing they never would.

It was for this very reason that all the students remained inside, whether chatting in their common rooms or getting comfortable in their dorms. Cozy, dry, warm. All but one particular boy.

A certain rebel by the name of Regulus Black sat just on the edge of a balcony, uncaring that the wind may suddenly change course or that the rain would grow ever stronger. The world to him seemed dark and grim, and in an effort to assuage this thinking he brought with him a single cigarette, the likes of which had nearly lived out its course. He might have before cared that he'd surely return sick given the weather, but to him the cold was a comfort, the rain a friend.

"You've been avoiding me."

The words that fell from your lips were sudden, unbidden, and Regulus startled, had to grip the balcony's railing so as to steady himself and avoid a rather untimely death. It was clear that he hadn't expected another to appear.

When he saw that is was you, a frown curved his lips, and he turned, all in a quite dismissive manner. You might have been less angry had he at least acknowledged you, but he must have thought it too difficult, or perhaps too much of an inconvenience, for he didn't bother.

"I've been trying to talk to you all week, you know that? I've spoken to Evan, Barty, the whole lot. They don't say a word about you."

Silence. Though you expected as much. When Regulus didn't want to converse, he simply didn't. But you wouldn't allow it. Not now.

"Regulus, answer me."

"What do you wish for me to say?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

A sigh fell past his lips, and you weren't quite sure whether you wanted to roll your eyes or cry upon catching sight of the solemn expression on his face.

"Please, Reg. I just want to know if something's wrong. You know you can tell me anything," you then said, softening your voice upon the realization that you had no idea what was troubling him so, and that adding to his troubles would do neither you nor him any good.

"Well, that's just it! I can't tell you! I can't tell you anything, for you'd go blabbering to those idiots that you call your friends about it ━ "

"I'd never tell the Marauders if ━ "

"And then everything will be even worse than it already is ━ "

"Reg ━ "

"and you and them would be in more danger than you already are ━ "

"Regulus ━ "

"and I just ━ I can't ━ "

"Regulus!"

He grew silent, and you continued.

"You can't truly believe that I tell them anything? I adore my friends, but there are things that you tell me that I know to keep between just the both of us, and only veritaserum could get them out of me, and even then I'd sow my mouth shut just so they wouldn't know. So, please, tell me. I will not say a word of it."

A shaky breath, a hesitation. Regulus stared at you, his expression earnest. "I got it."

You felt your entire world stop. "You got it?"

"The mark. I got the mark."

An involuntary gasp fell past your lips, and you looked at Regulus, observed his countenance which now made so much sense. You'd feared that perhaps you'd done something wrong, that perhaps he'd gone in yet another one of his fits where he decided that you were much too good for him (though this fit would have been much more dire than the last), but your fears now appeared insignificant when compared to the bitter truth.

"Did they force you?"

"No, that is the worst of it ━ I simply let it happen. I didn't say a word. When it was over, my mother even said she was proud of me, and I was awful enough to smile at it."

"But you're much too young!"

"The dark lord needs as many as he can on his side, now more than ever. When I am finished at Hogwarts, I will be working for him exclusively."

"I ━ Reg, I'm so sorry," you whispered, taking the boy in your arms into a warm embrace, starkly contrasting with the freezing nature of the rain.

A pause, and then, finally:

"You're not angry with me?"

You could never be mad at him. Not truly. Not when he stared at you the way he did, his eyes tender, his voice as delicate as it was now. You had been mad, yes, but seeing him now seemed to ease any sort of anger that you had collected throughout the week of his absence, and now all that was left was a heaping mound of sympathy. How you wished you had his stubbornness, but alas, forgiveness was a virtue that few were willing to give.

"Look, I ━ I know things have been difficult for you as of late, especially with Sirius gone. I won't pretend to know what you're going through, and I won't pretend that it is either easy or simple. From what you've told me of your family and your home ━ well, I don't believe I can judge you when I am unsure if I'd myself have the willpower to simply put up with your parents."

"Truly?"

"I would never lie to you."

The hug tightened, Regulus planting his head on your shoulder and drawing you impossibly nearer. "I cannot even begin to explain what that means to me."

"You needn't. But all that I ask is that you try to fight it ━ this ━ to the best of your capabilities. I know it is neither easy nor simple, but I ━ Regulus, I can't bear the thought of losing you to Voldemort. Please promise me."

"I'll fight, Y/n. I swear it upon my life. I will fight until I can no longer breathe. I promise."

"Until the end?"

"So long as you're by my side, until the very end."

[a-reverii]

▸ TO LOVE AND TO LOSE⌇regulus black.

› pairing ━ ꒰ regulus black x reader ꒱

› in which ━ ꒰ your lover is gone, and you have no idea what to do about it. ꒱

› content warning ━ ꒰ angst ; major character death ; hyperventilating ; thoughts of suicide ; etc. i recommend reading rue des trois frères or je te laissera des mots with this one (i did). ꒱

› word count ━ ꒰ 1 . 0k ꒱

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

HE WAS GONE.

That was the first thing you could think when the letter slipped from your hands onto the ground, before you inevitably followed it, your legs buckling underneath your weight that you'd never realized was so very heavy.

Your lover, your other half, your Regulus. He was dead, never to return, never to kiss you with those soft lips again, never to hold you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings to you again, never to play that song that the both of you loved far too much, and never for the two of you to dance to it again.

He was truly gone.

Your world didn't feel entirely real now. You looked around, frantically searching for something to grasp onto, something to ground you, but found that no such thing existed ━ save for that awful, damned letter with which Regulus wrote his last words. No, this could not be your reality. It was a mere illusion, the likes of which was made to torment you.

Your first instinct was to scream. To cry, to sob, to weep. To do something that any normal person would do when they'd lost the person that most mattered to them, but when you tried to scream you found that your voice lacked the power to do so, and that all that came out was a pitiful rasp, and when you tried to sob you lacked even the strength to do so.

So there you sat, crippled by the news of your lover's death, and alone. Terribly alone.

You always seemed to end up alone, didn't you?

"No, he can't be ━ he isn't ━ " The words came out quickly, and were almost inaudible. You breathing grew ragged, erratic, and in moments you were hyperventilating, trembling, unable to intake breaths properly at your panic grew.

For who were you without Regulus? He'd always been your star, your star, outshining everyone ━ even you. But you'd never minded as much, for the spotlight was somewhere he always belonged. And you'd forever be there to greet him in the shadows, to kiss him and to tell him of how much you loved him.

A small, bitter chuckle escaped your lips at the thought.

Forever.

What a lie.

Forever was a promise, one that could never be kept. You wondered what kind of a fool was the first to make it. Yes ━ a fool. That is what love had made you. A fool, for hope of such a bright future.

How you wished Regulus was here, now. He'd always so easily comforted you in times such as these, ones of utter despair. For what was pain if he was there? Nothing more than an afterthought. You'd once likened it to an obstacle. How wrong you'd been. You'd never known pain. Not like this.

You hated him, you then realized, as you sat there, broken beyond belief. You hated him, your Regulus. Hated him for leaving you this way, hated him for never telling you of his plans. You could have helped him, could have stopped him, could have done something.

But instead, you laid here, your tears staining the already grimy floor, your ribcage racking with horrible, terrible sobs ━ cries for him, for your now dead lover. And how awful it truly felt, to have such a person gone. He was your other half. He always had been. When you'd met him, it was as if he'd shown you this side of yourself that was always hidden from your view. And now? Now that he was gone, never to return?

It felt as if someone had dug their hand straight into your chest and, carelessly, tore your flesh and took out your heart, before crushing it right there in front of you. All you could do was look and watch as it the muscle stopped moving, as blood gushed from it and as your own body began to grow tired and cold. Yes, cold. That is how you felt ━ so very cold.

Perhaps it would be best to end myself here, you then thought, a dry laugh leaving you at the prospect. Perhaps I should cut out my heart, just as he had just done, and lay it out on the ground. It wouldn't change very much ━ it most certainly wouldn't change how I feel now, for I'd feel just as cold as I do now and just as broken as I do now. And maybe, even, I could show Regulus his mistake when I make it to the afterlife ━ could make him realize in what state he left me.

But you wouldn't do it. No matter how you longed to. You were too much a coward to do so. Even with all the anguish that now occupied your heart, fear controlled you.

And you also knew that you couldn't, for what Regulus did was noble, and for that, you did not hate him. You could never hate him, no matter how much you wished to do so. For he'd done this so that you could live on, and even if that was the last thing you wanted to do, you would do it. For him.

Life would go on, just as it always had, and so would you, with time. You would grow, adapt, and maybe even learn to accept his death. But not now, and certainly not anytime in the near future. But, for Regulus, you would go on.

You would live just as he'd wanted you to, even if you couldn't imagine living without him ━ couldn't bear it. You'd go on smiling, even if your cheeks ached and begged for rest. You'd go loving, even if you couldn't foresee loving another.

Because, for Regulus, you'd do anything.