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dragonlady7via https://ift.tt/2WujWfW
(more goblin emperor wittering, i know i said i’d stop but listen.)
I don’t know how much fandom is left here but I’m going to probably throw a bunch of this up on AO3 at some point whether anyone still cares or not.
There’s only somewhat a plot. Mostly it features Beshelar having an assortment of Bad Times as his worldview keeps getting forcibly readjusted. Such as, with his emperor:
“Only thou,” Maia said fondly. Deret gave him a look, and Maia elaborated, “Only thou couldst chastise thyself for a completely fictional circumstance, and mean it.”
Deret drew himself up as if for an offended response, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so he deflated instead. “Well,” he said. “If one can’t adhere to one’s principles in a hypothetical, then how does one expect to adhere to them in the practical?”
__________________
with Csevet, getting teased by the household staff
“Oh stop,” Csevet said, “you all are the worst.” He stood up from the stool and turned and nearly ran straight into Deret Beshelar, who was half an hour early for his shift and looked exhausted.
“Good morning,” Beshelar said, “I had hoped to find thee here. Echelo, please could I have a cup of strong tea?”
“Of course,” Echelo said, and looked him up and down, then looked at Csevet. “The two of you could not be more the opposite this morning if you tried.”
“What’s the reverse of getting laid?” Nemer asked.
Csevet wished perhaps that the floor would open up and swallow him, because now Beshelar was looking at him with a confused and slightly disgusted air, which was a good sight worse than his normal disapproval. “Stop it,” he said to Nemer, less good-naturedly than before.
Nemer patted Beshelar on the shoulder. “Thou lookst like thou wast reverse-fucked, mate,” he said. “Anti-fucked, mayhap.”
Beshelar rolled his eyes. “I slept poorly,” he said. “Who fucked who?”
“Aisava fucked somebody,” Nemer said.
“Oh let him be,” Echelo said, coming back with Beshelar’s tea. She put it into his hand and paused to look at him. “He’s right, though, thou looks’t terrible. Art thou coming down with aught?”
“No,” Beshelar said crossly.
“Thou’rt early,” Csevet noted, eager to deflect discussion from his putative state of satiety. “Is aught amiss?”
“No,” Beshelar said, giving up on crossness. “I came to speak with thee, if anyone would leave off hassling me for an instant.”
“Let’s to the dining room, then,” Csevet said, “I’ll be needing to go over the day’s agenda anyway. What’s thy concern?”
“Mayhap thou canst get him laid too,” Nemer said with false earnestness.
Beshelar bore it with much better humor than Csevet had expected. “Oh, mayhap,” he said, “gods know that’s just what I need, in my copious free time. Maybe he can save us both time and fuck me himself directly.”
Nemer cackled in wicked delight, and betook himself out of the room, mercifully. Csevet tried studiously to meditate his ears back to their proper color, as he made his way out to the dining room with a precarious plate of toast.
_________
and then he gets accidentally in a fight with Csevet over who is the Gayest.
“We see,” Csevet said, icy.
“It was offered in a spirit of–- thou knowest him!” Deret gestured emphatically. “Thou know’st what he’s like! All– gentle, and downcast, and timid, and doesn’t dare ask for aught, and–” He broke off, regrouped, and burst out, “And there’s been nobody who cared about him to tell him how the world works!”
That, he was grimly satisfied to see, struck home, at least momentarily. Csevet grimaced, and sat back in the chair with a strange gesture that was almost a writhe, as if this pained him.
______
Help I have lost all control over my life. Sigh.
(Your picture was not posted)
(more goblin emperor wittering, i know i said i’d stop but listen.)
I don’t know how much fandom is left here but I’m going to probably throw a bunch of this up on AO3 at some point whether anyone still cares or not.
There’s only somewhat a plot. Mostly it features Beshelar having an assortment of Bad Times as his worldview keeps getting forcibly readjusted. Such as, with his emperor:
“Only thou,” Maia said fondly. Deret gave him a look, and Maia elaborated, “Only thou couldst chastise thyself for a completely fictional circumstance, and mean it.”
Deret drew himself up as if for an offended response, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so he deflated instead. “Well,” he said. “If one can’t adhere to one’s principles in a hypothetical, then how does one expect to adhere to them in the practical?”
__________________
with Csevet, getting teased by the household staff
“Oh stop,” Csevet said, “you all are the worst.” He stood up from the stool and turned and nearly ran straight into Deret Beshelar, who was half an hour early for his shift and looked exhausted.
“Good morning,” Beshelar said, “I had hoped to find thee here. Echelo, please could I have a cup of strong tea?”
“Of course,” Echelo said, and looked him up and down, then looked at Csevet. “The two of you could not be more the opposite this morning if you tried.”
“What’s the reverse of getting laid?” Nemer asked.
Csevet wished perhaps that the floor would open up and swallow him, because now Beshelar was looking at him with a confused and slightly disgusted air, which was a good sight worse than his normal disapproval. “Stop it,” he said to Nemer, less good-naturedly than before.
Nemer patted Beshelar on the shoulder. “Thou lookst like thou wast reverse-fucked, mate,” he said. “Anti-fucked, mayhap.”
Beshelar rolled his eyes. “I slept poorly,” he said. “Who fucked who?”
“Aisava fucked somebody,” Nemer said.
“Oh let him be,” Echelo said, coming back with Beshelar’s tea. She put it into his hand and paused to look at him. “He’s right, though, thou looks’t terrible. Art thou coming down with aught?”
“No,” Beshelar said crossly.
“Thou’rt early,” Csevet noted, eager to deflect discussion from his putative state of satiety. “Is aught amiss?”
“No,” Beshelar said, giving up on crossness. “I came to speak with thee, if anyone would leave off hassling me for an instant.”
“Let’s to the dining room, then,” Csevet said, “I’ll be needing to go over the day’s agenda anyway. What’s thy concern?”
“Mayhap thou canst get him laid too,” Nemer said with false earnestness.
Beshelar bore it with much better humor than Csevet had expected. “Oh, mayhap,” he said, “gods know that’s just what I need, in my copious free time. Maybe he can save us both time and fuck me himself directly.”
Nemer cackled in wicked delight, and betook himself out of the room, mercifully. Csevet tried studiously to meditate his ears back to their proper color, as he made his way out to the dining room with a precarious plate of toast.
_________
and then he gets accidentally in a fight with Csevet over who is the Gayest.
“We see,” Csevet said, icy.
“It was offered in a spirit of–- thou knowest him!” Deret gestured emphatically. “Thou know’st what he’s like! All– gentle, and downcast, and timid, and doesn’t dare ask for aught, and–” He broke off, regrouped, and burst out, “And there’s been nobody who cared about him to tell him how the world works!”
That, he was grimly satisfied to see, struck home, at least momentarily. Csevet grimaced, and sat back in the chair with a strange gesture that was almost a writhe, as if this pained him.
______
Help I have lost all control over my life. Sigh.
(Your picture was not posted)
