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Fic - Loyalty 1/1
Title: Loyalty
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Pairing: Regulus/Kreacher
Warnings: Slash, bestiality, angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this.
Summary: Regulus reflects on his relationship with Kreacher.
Notes: This is possibly one of the most painful things I have ever written, if only because my brain was screaming "NO!NONONONONONONONONO!" at me the whole time. I didn't look at my copy of Deathly Hallows during its creation either, so minor details are probably inaccurate. I don't care; I wanted it out of my system.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mendlett, this is dedicated to you for being a horrible influence on my muses.
Regulus tilted his head back and stared at his ceiling, barely feeling the thin lips and long tongue that were currently working on pleasuring him. He couldn’t look down in case Kreacher saw the tears in his eyes; couldn’t look in case Kreacher tried to stop him from going.
Ever since he had been a small child, his happiness had been Kreacher’s priority. No one else had cared for him like that. No one. He’d tried his hardest to work affection out of his parents, but it had never – could never – match up to what lay between him and the loyal House Elf.
Kreacher loved him.
Most purebloods thought House Elves incapable of such emotion; thought them to be lesser beings, but Regulus knew better. He knew that House Elves were powerful magical beings in their own right, and that they were capable of affection much stronger and purer than many humans could even dream of feeling.
Kreacher adored him.
Regulus lowered a hand to caress the top of Kreacher’s head, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. The tears stung, but he refused to let them fall. His breath was catching in his throat and he gasped for air, trying to draw in oxygen past the pleasure and the tears.
Kreacher worshipped him.
Regulus shuddered as he came silently. He would be leaving soon, and he knew that he would never come back. But he had to do it: he had to do something to make up for his sins, and if he had to die in order to betray the Dark Lord, then he would.
“Master Regulus?”
Regulus smiled. No matter how hard he tried, he could never get Kreacher to stop calling him master. He had stopped trying, eventually.
He could breathe now. He felt unnaturally calm; there was a stillness inside of him that made his imminent death seem so far away.
“Thank you, Kreacher,” he said. He risked a glance down at the House Elf, and his smile grew. Kreacher nodded to him. He appeared to be about to say something before he was interrupted by Regulus’ mother shouting for him.
“Go on,” Regulus prompted.
Kreacher raised his hand. “Be safe, Master Regulus,” he said, and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone from the room.
A tear slid down Regulus’ cheek, soon followed by another, and another, until Regulus sat on the edge of his bed, his robes hanging open, his trousers undone and his eyes streaming.
He loved Kreacher too.
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Pairing: Regulus/Kreacher
Warnings: Slash, bestiality, angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this.
Summary: Regulus reflects on his relationship with Kreacher.
Notes: This is possibly one of the most painful things I have ever written, if only because my brain was screaming "NO!NONONONONONONONONO!" at me the whole time. I didn't look at my copy of Deathly Hallows during its creation either, so minor details are probably inaccurate. I don't care; I wanted it out of my system.
mendlett, this is dedicated to you for being a horrible influence on my muses.Regulus tilted his head back and stared at his ceiling, barely feeling the thin lips and long tongue that were currently working on pleasuring him. He couldn’t look down in case Kreacher saw the tears in his eyes; couldn’t look in case Kreacher tried to stop him from going.
Ever since he had been a small child, his happiness had been Kreacher’s priority. No one else had cared for him like that. No one. He’d tried his hardest to work affection out of his parents, but it had never – could never – match up to what lay between him and the loyal House Elf.
Kreacher loved him.
Most purebloods thought House Elves incapable of such emotion; thought them to be lesser beings, but Regulus knew better. He knew that House Elves were powerful magical beings in their own right, and that they were capable of affection much stronger and purer than many humans could even dream of feeling.
Kreacher adored him.
Regulus lowered a hand to caress the top of Kreacher’s head, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. The tears stung, but he refused to let them fall. His breath was catching in his throat and he gasped for air, trying to draw in oxygen past the pleasure and the tears.
Kreacher worshipped him.
Regulus shuddered as he came silently. He would be leaving soon, and he knew that he would never come back. But he had to do it: he had to do something to make up for his sins, and if he had to die in order to betray the Dark Lord, then he would.
“Master Regulus?”
Regulus smiled. No matter how hard he tried, he could never get Kreacher to stop calling him master. He had stopped trying, eventually.
He could breathe now. He felt unnaturally calm; there was a stillness inside of him that made his imminent death seem so far away.
“Thank you, Kreacher,” he said. He risked a glance down at the House Elf, and his smile grew. Kreacher nodded to him. He appeared to be about to say something before he was interrupted by Regulus’ mother shouting for him.
“Go on,” Regulus prompted.
Kreacher raised his hand. “Be safe, Master Regulus,” he said, and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone from the room.
A tear slid down Regulus’ cheek, soon followed by another, and another, until Regulus sat on the edge of his bed, his robes hanging open, his trousers undone and his eyes streaming.
He loved Kreacher too.