Are there any fics where Jeeves is some kind of supernatural being that would lend itself to being the perfect servant (Golem, genie, guardian angel...)?
There was one Random_Nexus was doing where he was a demon who'd been ensorcelled by Bertie's parents to take care of him (I think? Is that the right one I'm thinking of?). It's a WIP, although it's up to 30 chapters (they're short). Creatures of the Night Don't Wear Paisley (http://archiveofourown.org/works/270978).
I don't remember where they are but there's one where he's a time lord and one where he turns out to be a Lovecraftian old one (though luckily for Bertie he's much more benign than they usually are!)
There was a genie one where he lived in cocktail shaker, or perhaps it was a teapot? I think it was a cocktail shaker. Or maybe there are two genie stories that I'm getting confused. In any case, I can't remember much more than that, and I'm not having any luck finding it/them.
I'm sure Mice wrote the most wonderfullest Jeeves as Sentinel tale...
And here is a piece of shameless crack
Gentleman's Personal Djinn
Bertie twirled a cheerful whangee as he entered the flat. Tossing his hat onto the hatrack, whangee into the umbrella stand, he looked up and the spirited rendition of “Nagasaki” died on his ruby lips.
“Jeeves?” The slender limbs swung limply at the tweeded sides at the sight of the bare, tanned Jeevesian chest.
An eyebrow quirked. “Good evening, sir.”
“I say, Jeeves, why are you bedecked in those flimsy pink trousers? And those pointy shoes?”
Jeeves froze. His deep blue eyes shifted right, then left. And then he looked down at himself. “I do apologize for the lapse, sir. There was a meeting of the Junior Babylonians this afternoon and I was anxious to return the flat to normal and begin your dinner.”
Bertie wrinkled his nose and worked his mouth in his most adorably bewildered fashion. Jeeves felt his heart melt. It oozed into a puddle somewhere in the region of his curly-toed fushia shoes as Bertie drew himself up to deliver some masterful oratory. “Ah, thingummy, and rather, I say,” said Bertie, wagging a finger. “That is to say, Jeeves, that I er… Junior Bablyonians?”
Jeeves allowed his eyes to twinkle as Bertie’s eyes wandered back to his bare chest. “Yes, sir. It is a club for gentlemen’s personal djinns.”
“Djinns? As in Ali Baba and the Alladin’s lamp?”
“Something like that, sir. I have been a member for quite some time. My uncle …”
“Enough uncles, Jeeves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll save that story for a winter’s evening.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Tell me about these trousers, perhaps. They are quite, ahem, becoming, I, rather.” Jeeves smiled then, a wide smile. Bertie paused, then moved forward to touch the ruby lips. “I didn’t know you could, Jeeves.”
Jeeves bent forward to demonstrate something else he could do with the r. lips.
I'm writing one where he's a robot/program with access to the internet and all the knowledge of the world instantaneously. But that's sci-fi not fantasy. ^^;
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Date: 2013-08-01 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 11:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 10:35 pm (UTC)And here is a piece of shameless crack
Gentleman's Personal Djinn
Bertie twirled a cheerful whangee as he entered the flat. Tossing his hat onto the hatrack, whangee into the umbrella stand, he looked up and the spirited rendition of “Nagasaki” died on his ruby lips.
“Jeeves?” The slender limbs swung limply at the tweeded sides at the sight of the bare, tanned Jeevesian chest.
An eyebrow quirked. “Good evening, sir.”
“I say, Jeeves, why are you bedecked in those flimsy pink trousers? And those pointy shoes?”
Jeeves froze. His deep blue eyes shifted right, then left. And then he looked down at himself. “I do apologize for the lapse, sir. There was a meeting of the Junior Babylonians this afternoon and I was anxious to return the flat to normal and begin your dinner.”
Bertie wrinkled his nose and worked his mouth in his most adorably bewildered fashion. Jeeves felt his heart melt. It oozed into a puddle somewhere in the region of his curly-toed fushia shoes as Bertie drew himself up to deliver some masterful oratory. “Ah, thingummy, and rather, I say,” said Bertie, wagging a finger. “That is to say, Jeeves, that I er… Junior Bablyonians?”
Jeeves allowed his eyes to twinkle as Bertie’s eyes wandered back to his bare chest. “Yes, sir. It is a club for gentlemen’s personal djinns.”
“Djinns? As in Ali Baba and the Alladin’s lamp?”
“Something like that, sir. I have been a member for quite some time. My uncle …”
“Enough uncles, Jeeves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll save that story for a winter’s evening.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Tell me about these trousers, perhaps. They are quite, ahem, becoming, I, rather.” Jeeves smiled then, a wide smile. Bertie paused, then moved forward to touch the ruby lips. “I didn’t know you could, Jeeves.”
Jeeves bent forward to demonstrate something else he could do with the r. lips.
no subject
Date: 2013-08-02 02:21 am (UTC)Link to Mice's Sentinal story (http://archiveofourown.org/works/319191)
And then there is the miraculous Laeticiav and the Jeeves at the End of the World (http://indeedsir.livejournal.com/1065308.html)
no subject
Date: 2013-08-21 04:32 am (UTC)Good luck hunting!