#welcome to fillory

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

kinktober #9

Massively Milky 🥛 / Euphoria 💖

“Oh,” says Eliot, stopping short in the doorway of his bedroom. Q, hot on his heels and less than sober, crashes into him. 

“Hey, what gives?” he complains, but Eliot just holds up a hand. Q hops up and down, trying to see over Eliot’s shoulder, but he lands unsteadily and braces himself against Eliot’s hips, making him stumble farther into the room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Margo yells from where she’s splayed on top of Josh in Eliot’s bed. “Get the hell out!”

“Bambi,” says Eliot, playfully aghast. “In my bed? The chutzpah!”

“Out!” shrieks Margo, and Q ducks as a stiletto comes flying over Eliot’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing Eliot’s hand and tugging him down the hall to his own room. “I put a charm on my door earlier, there shouldn’t be anyone in there.”

“Put a charm on your door to what?” asks Eliot, letting himself be tugged.

“To lock it, duh. Have you met me?” A little clumsily, Q disarms the spell and lets them in. “Not exactly the party type.”

“And yet,” says Eliot, turning in a slow circle as if taking in his surroundings, “here you are. Partying.”

“Yeah, well, someone dragged me downstairs.” Eliot’s been in his room before, at least in passing, but for a moment he stops and sees it as Eliot must: the plain pale blue sheets and navy duvet, the pile of rumpled half-clean laundry threatening collapse in the corner, the total lack of decor. Eliot’s room at least has, like, plants and stuff. And framed art. All of the art Quentin came to school with is Fillory fan art Julia gave him or he’d bought himself at the one con he went to back in high school, and it now resides deep in the suitcase stuffed in the back of his closet. 

Eliot does a theatrical little bow. “You’re welcome. Feel free to thank me for the many handcrafted cocktails as well. That was kraken rum in that hurricane. Not like the brand Kraken, but, like, actual kraken. And I made the orgeat syrup from scratch.”

Q furrows his eyebrows. “There’s no actual kraken.”

“Oh, yes, there is.”

“Nuh-uh,” says Q, shaking his head and flopping onto his bed. The last shot of rum is starting to hit him, his thoughts going blurry, everything suddenly moving a little slower. 

Eliot throws himself down beside him, somehow still managing to look graceful and put together despite the many, many hurricanes Q watched him drink. Helped him drink. Whatever. “There is, and they’re sentient.”

Quentin is suddenly very, very aware of how close to him Eliot is. He can smell his woody cologne, the alcohol and sugar on his breath, the sweat from dancing downstairs in a pit of other people blowing off steam about midterms. He can’t remember if he put on more deodorant before the party. Or what he ate for lunch or what his breath might be doing. Did he even brush his teeth this morning?

“I know,” says Eliot softly. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“What?” says Q, too fast, and Eliot laughs.

“The kraken. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Q laughs too, nervously. “Um, did you need something from your room?”

Eliot shrugs, letting himself collapse back onto the mattress. “I was going to do some E, but it’s not worth the trauma of potentially seeing Josh’s dick.”

“I thought you liked dicks,” says Q, and immediately regrets it.

“I do,” says Eliot, as if that’s obvious, because it is and Q is just drunk and dumb, “but I’ll take a pass on Josh. Margo gets territorial.”

Quentin tries to laugh. He is definitely not thinking about Eliot’s dick.

Instead, he tips backward so that he and Eliot are lying parallel. From this angle, he can see the mound of his belly rising up like fresh dough waiting to be punched down. He’s been doing a bad job of eating things that are nutritionally complex recently, not to mention all the stress eating he’s been doing as midterms approach, and upping the dosage on his meds hasn’t helped. When was the last time he ate a vegetable?

“I’ve never done E,” he says to the ceiling.

Eliot snorts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Hey!” With only a little difficulty, Q rolls onto his side to face Eliot. Booze sloshes in his gut. “Don’t act like I’m some kind of square! I’ve smoked weed with you!”

“Using the word square isn’t helping your case, Q.” Eliot levers himself over as well, and suddenly they’re staring at each other, noses six inches apart. Quentin cannot remember the last time he washed his sheets.

Eliot blinks at him. Q stills. 

“I left my drink downstairs,” says Eliot, as somberly as if he were announcing the death of a beloved relative.

“I’ll get it,” says Quentin instantly, standing up too fast. He sways and steadies himself on his bookshelf, the room tilting around him. “I think.”

Eliot hits him with a winning smile, and then it’s not a question anymore. Q wobbles downstairs, realizes he forgot to ask Eliot where he’d left his glass, and decides no way is he going back up and down the stairs a second time, so he googles how to make the cocktail and cobbles one together to the best of his ability. Luckily, most of Eliot’s liqueurs and syrups are clearly labeled, even the ones in otherwise unremarkable glass bottles, which probably has something to with the mason jar he spies in the fridge with a masking-tape-and-Sharpie label that says IMPOTENCE TONIC DO NOT DRINK in Margo’s loopy handwriting. 

Satisfied with his work, he takes a shot of rum for confidence, scoops up a stray pizza box from the kitchen counter, and carefully makes his way back upstairs, leaving only a few drops of hurricane on the steps for his trouble. Outside his room, he stops to catch his breath and get his bearings. Eliot is in his bed. He’s about to be in bed with Eliot. And granted, it’s not the first time that’s happened. Not even the first time he’ll have slept with Eliot. But it’s the first time he’ll do any of it lucid, and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. If something else is going to happen between them, he wants to remember it. 

He bumps open the door with his hip and exhales in relief when Eliot is draped right across the bed where Q left him. His dark curls fall foppishly over his forehead. Q has the unbelievably stupid thought that he looks like Sleeping Beauty.

“Hey,” he says, nudging the door closed again with one foot. “Your hurricane cometh.”

Eliot barely raises his head off the mattress. “Too late. I’m not getting up.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna drink it then,” says Q, climbing back onto the bed. “Your loss.” 

“Nooooo,” whines Eliot, and Quentin dangles it over his face. 

“Last chance.”

Eliot flails aimlessly with one long arm, and Q loses his balance trying to dodge and topples onto the floor. Only about half of the hurricane lands in the glass, and the rest catches Eliot’s thighs on its way down.

“Oh,” says Eliot lightly. “I’ve been shot.”

He slumps off the bed and onto the floor beside Q, who sets the glass out of harm’s way and pulls the pizza box down with them. There’s still a few slices of pepperoni left, which is better than he could have hoped for a Physical Kids party. Half the time you open a pizza box around here and it’s got some kind of psychedelic on it. Or else it’s vegan, which is worse.

“Do you want some?” he asks, taking a giant bite. Part of him is aware that it probably isn’t cute to be stuffing grease-sheened pizza into his mouth when he can see his stomach pushing against the fabric of his t-shirt, but it’s that or some word salad about how good Eliot smells, so he takes his chances on the pizza. 

“Mm, thanks,” says Eliot, balancing the box on his thighs. “Cold pizza.”

“Room-temperature pizza,” amends Q through a mouthful.

“Oh, I stand corrected.” He closes the box and places it back in Q’s lap, then gives it a tender pat. “You have it.”

“I’m not going to eat half a pizza in front of you.”

“Why not?” asks Eliot, and there’s something brighter in his dark eyes than there was a moment ago.

“Uh, because I don’t need it? Obviously?” Quentin’s blushing, but he grabs at his stomach anyway. “Hello?”

“Oh, but I like this,” says Eliot, his voice going soft. So slowly, he drags a gentle hand down Q’s middle, just fingertips, barely enough to press, but it still makes everything in Q stand up and take notice.

He chokes a little on the bite of pizza in his mouth. “Don’t be weird.”

Eliot rolls his eyes. “My taste isn’t weird, it’s superb and discerning.”

“Your taste in what? Losers?”

Eliot frowns. “Let me try again. Oh,” he repeats with more emphasis. His hand is back on Q’s belly, pressing a little harder now. “But I like this.”

Quentin’s face burns hotter. “Stop,” he says, pushing the pizza box away. “I get it. You don’t have to rub it in.”

The furrow between Eliot’s eyebrows doesn’t smooth. Q’s heard Margo yell at him about getting lines there by doing exactly this. “What am I not making clear?”

Q blinks at him. “What?”

Eliot reaches out and cups Quentin’s cheek in one big hand. “I’m not making fun of you, Q, Jesus. I’m just — saying.”

Something warm and prickly is suffusing Quentin all over, halfway between thrill and panic. He can feel his pulse thudding where his skin touches Eliot’s. He can’t hear anything else. He can’t look away.

“Saying what?” he asks quietly. The music from downstairs pounds through the floor, and he feels himself unconsciously begin to tap his fingers on his knee in time.

“Oh my fucking god,” says Eliot, “am I speaking Armenian? I’m not just sitting here because I want to be in a quiet, depressing room when I could be at a party. I am saying that I like you. Do you need me to repeat it in any other language?”

“Hey, in my defense, my Armenian is not good,” says Q, though he’s halfway to laughing now. “Is this real? Am I dreaming?”

Eliot purses his lips. “You’re lucky I didn’t get around to doing E because this would be even less coherent.”

Q feels around behind him for the half-empty glass of hurricane and swallows half of it in one go. “Wait, so you’re saying that —

“Oh, come on, Q,” says Eliot, knocking back the other half of the cocktail and rolling away from him. “What do you want me to say, that I have feelings for you? I’m begging you, don’t make me.” He pouts. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Okay,” says Q, and it must be the kraken rum because he doesn't think he’d be this bold otherwise. “Then show me.”

Without a word, Eliot hauls him back up on the bed, extra pounds be damned, and Q, breathless, stares at him wide-eyed. 

“You’re strong!”

“I grew up on a farm, remember? I’m more butch than I look.” Firmly, gently — if you had asked Quentin five minutes ago, he’d have said a touch couldn’t be both at once, but Eliot manages it — he flips Q onto his back and crawls on top of him. 

“Look,” he murmurs into the curve of Quentin’s neck. “I know body stuff is hard to believe. But I need you to trust that I wouldn’t lie about this. I’m a bitch, but not like that.”

Q nods, brain not fully online due to the sandpaper scrape of Eliot’s stubble against his skin. “Okay.”

“Okay,” says Eliot, and then he says something in Armenian into Quentin’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” gasps Quentin.

“Gladly,” says Eliot, and he kisses him.

Q kisses back hungrily, desperately, pressing Eliot close like he can’t get enough. He buries his hands in his curls, mouths urgently at his neck, his jaw, his collarbone. Eliot’s less frenetic, his kisses long and deep and steady. He pulls the elastic from Q’s hair and runs his hands through it, cups his face in his hands and kisses until Q needs to come up for air.

“Okay,” Q pants, eyes blown wide. “I believe you. I believe you.”

“Good,” says Eliot. He’s stretched out beside him, so long that his feet hang off the bed, and he feels like the buffer between Q and the rest of the world. The party thuds on downstairs, but it’s muffled through the haze of alcohol and body heat and endorphins.

Q leans in, unwilling to put much space between them, and Eliot kisses him slowly, reels him back in. He braces a hand on Q’s paunch, and Q manually overrides the urge to pull away again. This is good. This is okay.

“Soft,” Eliot mumbles into his neck, and Q laughs.

“Yeah. Pretty soft.”

“’S nice,” says Eliot, garbled. He sucks at the soft skin below Q’s soft jaw. It’s all soft. Q starts to wonder just how much secondhand weed he’s inhaled. 

“You should eat the pizza,” says Eliot. “You’ll be less hungover tomorrow.”

Q squints at him. “Is that true?”

“Okay, maybe I just want to feed you cold pizza. Let a man have his strange desires.”

“I thought they were disturb and su — superb and discerning,” he pronounces carefully, and the crinkle of Eliot’s smile around his eyes is everything. 

“You’re drunk,” he says gently. “Eat some pizza.”

“You’re drunk,” says Quentin as Eliot drops a hand over the edge of the bed and fishes for the box. “You eat some pizza.”

Eliot obliges, taking a bite from the slice Q had started earlier. He pulls Q up to sit against the headboard and holds the pizza to his lips.

Q has not been fed before. He’s arguably not even that good at feeding himself, if recent events are anything to go by. But Eliot is slow and gentle, and he keeps looking at Q with sweet, fond eyes. With each slice, Q feels heavier, less like he’s floating. It’s good. He feels like he’s fully here. He feels full.

Eliot kisses him. Q burps. 

“Okay?” asks Eliot, and Quentin nods. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good,” breathes Eliot, laying his palm across the crest of Quentin’s stomach. “Do you want to keep going, or do you want to stop?”

It’s not even a question. “Keep going,” he says, and Eliot moves on top of him again, careful not to put too much pressure on his midsection. 

If it was hungry before, then this, now, is satisfaction, languid and warm. They get each other off, and as Eliot cleans himself up, Q lies still, curled in something close to the fetal position in just his boxers, room unsteady and next move uncertain. This is the part where Eliot goes back to his own bed and they don’t talk about this in the morning, right? 

“Scoot over,” says Eliot, lighting on the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless and wearing a tiny pair of royal purple underwear that are probably silk or something, and Q reaches out in tipsy, muted wonder and touches the swell of belly pushing over his waistband.

“Oh,” he says softly. “I see what you mean.”

Because Eliot’s little belly is perfect. It’s feathered in dark hair, his skin pale in contrast, and there are impressions pressed into him from the waistband of his pants, his belt. Q runs his fingers over them, tries to smooth them out. Minor mending, indeed.

“Mm-hmm,” says Eliot. “Not so hard to believe now, is it?”

“Do you have this all the time?” asks Q, rolling over for a better angle. “Do you have it, like, spelled or something?”

Eliot nods. “The waistcoats,” he says after a long moment. “They serve a purpose. Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

Quentin pets at the little mound of flesh. “I won’t. It’s so nice.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” says Eliot again, drawing it out. Slowly, he turns and scoops himself around Quentin so that they’re spooning, his chin propped on Q’s shoulder, his arm hooked over his middle, tracing idle patterns on Q’s own full belly through his t-shirt.

Eliot kisses his neck. Eliot holds him skin against skin. Eliot plays with his hair. Eliot falls asleep halfway through muttering something about the music choice downstairs and then wakes up again and finishes the sentence a moment later. Quentin is so verklempt by it that he has to turn over and give Eliot a turn to be held. He’s not entirely sure that what was on the pizza wasn’t psychedelic. For all he knows, he got caught in the crossfire of someone’s drunken casting downstairs. Or maybe this is just what it’s supposed to feel like to feel content with someone. To feel held and feel wanted. 

“Room’s spinning,” says Eliot softly from beside him. Quentin smoothes the hair out of his face and squeezes the pressure point that’s supposed to help prevent nausea, or something like that. It’s been a long time since health class.

“Oh, no,” he says, exaggerated. “You’ll have to stay here. And there’s only one bed.”

Eliot huffs out a sleepy laugh. “Whatever will we do,” he mumbles.

Quentin wakes up with Eliot’s hair in his mouth, his hand asleep under Eliot’s ribcage, his own morning wood prodding uncomfortably against Eliot’s hip, and a spectacular hangover. But he remembers every moment of the night before.

Carefully, he tries to maneuver Eliot so that they can both lie facing away from the piercing autumn sun, but Eliot stirs, rolling one shoulder into Quentin’s jaw. “‘S it morning?” he asks blearily, and Q shakes his head, helping him roll over.

“Not yet. Go back to sleep.”

In the early morning silence, he pads downstairs and fills two honest-to-god steins with water for a few hours from now, when they’ll inevitably need them. Then he slips back into bed behind Eliot and gathers him into his arms. One language isn’t enough for how good it feels.

[fixated-on-something]

I think about the magicians too much so here are some of my favourite quotes

Silly ones

Julia and Quentin: DO WE NOT AMUUUUUSE?

Julia: We made up that dance and it was TERRIBLE!

Quentin: oh god

Julia: It was so.. white.. and BAD.

Penny: I like your sweater

Quentin: Are you saying that to be cruel?

Penny: No. I like your sweater, I saw no reason not to share

Quentin: Well then, shall we go fuck some shit up?

Penny: Yes.

Margo: Yes.

Eliot: Yes definitely. Definitely yes.

Penny: Agreed. Feelings are bullshit.

Alice: Is that a traveller thing?

Penny: It’s a hearing voices thing

Alice: Well at least it beats whatever you were snorting

Penny: Marginally.

Kady: Ok, Mindslut?

Quentin: I don’t know you EITHER, except that we just summoned a killer MOTHMAN from another WORLD!

Marina: Did you figure you wanted to learn magic at your blow dry last week?

Penny: You’re welcome. (Blows kiss)

Quentin: What does that mean????

Quentin: you really don’t have to try to make me feel better we basically just met

Eliot: Well, I bond fast. Time is an illusion…

Eliot: How about I find you, and I don’t say magic is real, but I do seduce you and so lift your spirits that life retains its sparkle for decades…

Quentin: …yeah that sounds nice thank you

Dream Alice: If you would shut up for 2 seconds this sex dream could pass the Bechtel test, Quentin

Eliot: Once one of them offered to blow me for a spell. It was barely worth it.

Quentin: Is someone being creepy on purpose?

Margo: that is…. Not super consistent with the books

Quentin (genuinely very distressed): no!!! It’s not!!!! And I find that devastating!!! ☹️

Quentin: You can’t possibly want to be a dick more than you want to live!

Eliot: Oh yes very pristine, it’s been taken over by a kiddy diddling mutant.

Penny: The hell are you drinking?

Alice: I don’t know- triple sec?

Penny: What did Quentin do.

Margo: So we are fucked without grease

Quentin: Sounds like us

Eliot: Must be a Monday. Onward to glory.

Penny: Whoa WHOA WE ARE NOT. NOT. Killing a U.S. senator. But we will commit a felony… almost as stupid.

Eliot: IHEREBYDECREE! Rulers… done gonna rumble.

Margo: Ps we still hate you, but it’s the 21st century it shouldn’t be this hard for a girl to get an evil demigod abortion.

Niffin Alice: what’s this bitch doing in my room?

Margo: By agreeing to marry a stranger on the spot?

Eliot: I did it!

Margo: That was different.

Eliot: You’re right. This would only really be equivalent if Ess was a girl, and you found pussy you know, interesting in a ‘sometimes you like Thai food’ kinda way and now it’s all Thai food forever TILL YOU DIE.

Eliot: Hooolyyy shit the walking plot twist returns

Penny: Hi I need something

Eliot: Shocker. Hey Fen look it’s Uncy Penny! That’s right, I knocked her up. No big deal.

Penny: Uh- congratulations?

Eliot: like I needed more people calling me daddy but yes, thanks, we’re… thrilled.

Eliot: I am in way over my head. I’m not even in control of which of my bodies is awake and my sexually aggressive wife- she could wake me up at any moment in Fillory and-

Fogg: There are certain student teacher boundaries which I prefer not to cross.

Penny: “Let’s go hunt the white lady?” People like me get SHOT for saying shit like that.

NOW THE HEART SHATTERING ONES

Eliot: Do you think it’s real?

Quentin: Some of the good parts have to be. At least I hope so.

Eliot: Things aren’t usually worth caring about

Margo: Eliot he’s gone. why are your torturing yourself?

Eliot: Because he’s gone. And it’s my fault. And of all the people in the world who don’t understand, somehow you top the list.

Quentin: Every book every movie… is about one special guy. The chosen. You know in real life, for every one guy there are a billion people who aren’t.

Margo: I'm a king. Not a goddamn princess. A king.

Julia: I think it’s because it happened. And there’s nothing… magic about it anymore.

Emily: I don’t blame myself. Except for when I first wake up… and when I go to bed, and all the time in between.

Then obviously any quite related to 3x05 and pretty much the entirety of The Mountain Of Ghosts

I missed a bunch and these are mostly season 1-2 because that’s when I was taking notes during my rewatch

[eliotqueliot]

Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 11

Welcome! I'm writing a series of haiku about the Mosaic! Disclaimer, I don't own any of these images (they're from the TV series adapted from Lev Grossman's series, The Magicians, which aired on SyFy). I'm just writing about them, ekphrastic style (seeing the image is an important reference when reading the poem, so I wanted to group them together). To read more about the project, the form, my author's notes (including a few more haiku), and to eventually see some sketches I made of these scenes, please visit the page for this chapter at AO3 (link below). I'm going to be rolling out the sketches as I have time, so please stay tuned for the rerelease! Either way, I hope you'll enjoy these reflections on the best episode of TV (The Magicians, Season 3, Episode 5, “A Life in the Day”) and my favorite ship, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh!

Mosaic Haiku - Chapter 11 - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

(Please also find some cool images for "A Life in the Day" at Getty and SyFy.)

--------------------------

Love how déjà vu enters through their natures: El's senses, Q's reading.

Eliot

What’s happening? Did my fairy godfather wave his wand, “Dreams come true”?

“Bite peach, activate spell?” Oh, these lovely pieces, tumbling through my heart.

If only it’s real. If you could love me—can I? Please, grant courage too.

Quentin

I’m a man of words: books saved me, their worlds my life. So I wrote us real,

Story of our lives, a letter imbued with us,: our truth. Remember.

Reading brings it back: proves it happened. Love enters through eyes. Drink you in.

Eliot

This taste is unreal. Best ever. No peach this good. No peach but Quentin.

Quentin

Best story I’ve read, and it’s us? Afraid to look: will you believe me?

Eliot

Don't want to wake up, face the hard part: "Need to talk." Easy part: "Love you."

Quentin

Fantasy promised Wonder, magic, happiness: Quests, a life well-lived.

But “Fillory is real” meant danger, death, heartbreak. Too sad to be king.

Promise, real? Both true. Love, quest, wonder, joy. Death, grief. Danger: yes or no?

Notebook solutions: intellectual Q, math less daunting than art.

Touch tiles, sort colors. Feel my way. On-the-fly solves. Physical Kid El.

"We work" so well: good fit, great team. Hearts complement. Pieces interlock.

Eliot

Knowing you're back there, ready to start where I stop: how I keep going.

--------------------------------------

To read all the chapters of Mosaic Haiku on Tumblr or check on which AO3 chapters have sketches posted:

If you'd like to leave comments/kudos, or see the sketches I'm making when they're available, please visit:

[clarajohnson]

the magicians s1e5

being concerned about the fate of the friend who nearly permanently incapacitated you in a mind prison is sooooo babygirl of quentin

the way that q and julia (and like i'm guessing the other first years in the main cast? but not a given) are like, only probably 22 at this point. literal children.

traveling is such a neat concept one point to the magicians for that

i'm constantly shocked by s1 margo she's very sweet very shallow and not so acidic. also her outfits are shit. i'm so looking forward to no-bullshit heart of gold high king margo with her unbelievable fillory wardrobe.

(eventually) killing ted coldwater is one of the evilest things this show does

eliot wouldn't wear a bowtie. i know this. i should have run the magicians.

circling back to julia being 22 YOU MIGHT HAVE YOUR UNDERGRAD DEGREE AT THIS POINT DON'T PLAY HOUSEWIFE FOR THIS MAN

"if magicians could cure cancer why would anybody have cancer" "because we like secrets" this episode laying a lot of groundwork for fandom hand-wringing in the future

everyone here is so babyfaced and yes i'm talking about margo again

every julia scene makes me more and more nervous knowing how close we're getting to reynard. also more excited because we're closer to best bitches but mostly nervous.

margo's welters outfit i say yay yippee hooray hooray hooray

you know the physical kids are the main characters in this show because they all have fun character-specific welters uniforms while the nature students are wearing fucking maroon tunics

who knew you had it in you !!!!! you're so right margo we should get married

julia's s1 arc being like, ooh i'm a magic junkie is so embarrassing but you have to remember that their like Main Poster for this season used the literal tagline "magic is a drug" and it's like oh yeah they thought this would be harry potter for adults with stick and pokes

love the entirety of kady and penny's relationship being open and honest communication, excellent banter, and routine sex that is apparently consistently unbelievable. also very clear and pure love.

"you slept with me two days ago" "you're welcome"

this show really does villains well, they're always kind of polite and basically unstoppable, these facsimiles of civility that intend to turn you inside out and you can really only stop them by a miracle

eliot doing his best impression of a man who cares about alice >>>>

"what if i could fix him?" (narrator: he could not fix cancer puppy)

there seem to be two types of magic in this show: there's very involved tutting and there's a kind of... i don't know, like, magic that seems more like strong-willing things to happen. like some of it is about doing the right steps in a very specific order and some of it is about wanting it badly enough.

"get ready for the first spanking you won't enjoy" "that actually sounds kind of hot" they are my best friends

god alice/margo had so much potential

"penny i think you were in fillory" LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[doorinthepage]

@voluntadfuerte ; x cont

Julia flushed deeply when Kady kissed her again. It was the sweetest taste, and something he had thought about everytime she was in Kady's presence.

She smiled brightly, almost laughing with happiness. "Of course."

She took both of Kady's hands in hers. They somehow fit perfectly. She pulled Kady's knuckles to her mouth, kissing both, before Julia teleported them in a flash to the ethereal, lush circular meadow of the Queens wood where Julia's enchanted cottage sat next to a babbling stream.

The huge horned moon of Fillory filled the sky behind Kady, and it was a glorious sight.

She leaned in and brushed her lips against Kady's. "Welcome to Fillory, baby."

[therealmcu]

I accidentally stumbled upon this blog and then it took me awhile to realise it is a sideblog and I found your main and I couldn't send anonymous asks in there but I figure I can here, I just have to say finding your blogs in late 2023 and 2024 feels like opening a secret door to a stevebucky narnia or fillory or whatever magical land you can think about! I'm gonna need me sometime to check everything in your masterlists, I am in love ma'am so in love especially with the incorrect quotes sets in here they're so funny and well made and don't get me started on your main blog aalternate universe creations CHEF'S KISS! the last one of the YouTube au is so perfectly made that I forgot it wasn't real!!! I don't know you and you don't know me but ma'am please don't stop blessing us! I'm new to the stevebucky fandom and I would love to enjoy your work along with the other amazing writers and content creators! Keep up the amazing work and BRB I need to check all your stuff 💓

this means to me more than you can imagine!!! I'm so happy that you're liking my stuff!! and what makes me more happy is knowing that there are new people like you joining the fandom even tho most people actually left! so having new people makes me not lose hope that this fandom will remain!! we just have to keep doing our best to keep it standing!

thank you again and welcome to the stucky family 💕

[whoviancumberbunny]

Part Five: Knight Of Crowns

Part One:  Stand and Be True  

Part Two: Ne’er-Do-Wells and Insufferable Bastards

Part Three:    No Room For Fear  

Part Four:  Percy and the Reap Maiden

I used this Prompt @pettyprompts​

Knight Of Crowns

Percy De Rolo Created by Critical Role

High Kings of Fillory created By Lev Grossman

Annie Deschain Created by Melissa C. Scraper @whoviancumberbunny

  Percy would follow her to the ends of the world but she hadn’t even explained what they were doing. But a few weeks prior a mysterious fountain had appeared in the forest beyond the Sun Tree.  With letters in high Speech. That translated to Fillory “Remember you asked about the others I lost in the previous timeline. “ she unbuttons his coat “you asked me about this button I sewed on the inside of your coat. It is magical item and it connected to the fountain. It is activated by being touched and being in Contact with a portal fountain.”

 He had given up on completely understanding how the time loop worked.  “I trust you.” They arrive at the fountain

 “It is portal to fillory. That is castle Whitespire.” She says pointing to the carved stone figure In the middle  “You will love Castle Whitespire it was build by dwarves on giant clockwork mechanism and it slowly turns with the hour. ”   she looks at him “I forgot most fillorians hate humans. At least In the previous timeline. Also they don’t have guns there.  They’re primarily an agricultural society that runs on magic.”

 He blushes as she unbuttons his coat “I gave you my only button.”  She wraps  her arms around his waist “Hold your breath and count to three and fall back into the fountain.“  the moment felt eternal and fast and odd but they came up in  land where clocks are embedded in trees.  

 They stand up and he adjust his glasses “Welcome to Fillory, a world created by bored deities.” She looks around “I know this place.” They duck behind the bushes they are on the edge of lake, she steps into the field where there is chest and Percy watches her as he clothes turn into a suit of armor “This time I am the Knight of Crowns this time.”

 Eliot “You seem familiar. But I could just be hungover.” He said when he sees Annie.  

 Annie “Which of you is the true king of fillory?” Eliot  kneels before her “You may only claim the crowns if you beat me at hand of cards.”  Thinking *Shit I forgot what game  Quentin Coldwater told me they played against the Knight of Crowns.*  a short time later “You Quentin Coldwater have destiny you can’t begin to understand.”  She gently pokes him in the chest it is dull thud of wood,  so that was one of the detail that never changed. When they first arrived in fillory he had lost 80% of his body in battle so his skeleton was made of wood. She had drawn them into her time loop because  she knew this neurotic person in front of her was destined to save this world. In the time line where she had been married to King peter, Quentin Coldwater had ended up being exiled and living in Delain as the royal advisor.

 A talking rabbit looks at Annie and just keeps repeating pregnant…or perhaps an apt description would be yelling it “Pregnant Pregnant!”

 *Damn it! I am here before Eliot was forced to marry Fen. Hopefully Percy can’t tell this rabbit is talking about me!* she thinks, fortunately it was only month or two until the wedding. So it is not like it was unusual thing for them have been intimate.   She still had time ask Gilmore to adjust the size of the dress.

 When they return to Whitestone they have been gone for three days  “Annie, my love was that talking rabbit yelling pregnant? Specifically at you.”  he knelt down at her feet resting his head on her stomach “no more adventuring for you for a while. We can just stay in the castle. I admit there are less…unnerving ways to find out we are having a baby.”

 “I forgot about the magic talking rabbits those little assholes are the only creatures that can travel between dimensions when the magic is out of flux between fillory and Earth. Except for Alice she is eventually turned into soulless creature who enjoys killing. Rabbits and Crows.  The only way to get the rabbits to shut up is to give them something else to say and find way to make them go to sleep.  Quentin’s ability is mending magic. He can fix broken things.”

 Percy stands up and laughs “I hardly ever hear calling anything or anyone an asshole.”  He looks at her “I admit I have never heard of Fillory. How do you know about them?”

 “they helped in the the attack on in timeline three and we helped them battle the fae of Fillory. When they kidnapped Eliot’s baby daughter. The point at which we entered Fillory is roughly six years prior to that I didn’t meet them until after they completed the map of fillory.”  

 “A little question .” he said as they went back to Whitestone “Why did you try to pretend you were coughing up dirt?”

“The previous Knight of crowns was waiting for 600 years for the high kings and queen the way it was explained to me. He coughed up dirt sand apologized for possibly dying while waiting for someone to claim the crowns. They arrive back at the castle

 “you just sit I will make you sandwich.”

 “you have been gone for three days?”   pike said

 “It is a long story. Pike. Where are the others?”

 “Planning their gifts for the wedding.”

 Vax and Scanlan return for some reason Vax is soaked to the bone and has bump his forehead “Can you quit telling everyone I’m dead? People keep throwing holy water and crosses at me because they think I’m a demon, ghost, or vampire.”

 “Aw, but it’s funny!”

 “It was until I got soaked in water for the fifth time this week. Did you know that some priests have buckets of that shit?”  Vax looks over at the table “Where the hell have you guys been?”  he goes over and hugs Annie and Percy.

 Annie “If they are throwing Holy water you because they think you are ghost they don’t understand how ghosts work.” she laughed   “I can imagine the Scan-man laughing it up though.”

 “Declan thought it was friggin hilarious when we stopped at Gilmore’s.”

 The next day at Gilmore’s Glorious Good “Should I be planning for a fabulous baby outfit?”

 “Percy and I just found out while we were on our trip. Just remember when you supply libations make sure there are non alcoholic ones involved and remember to supply the type of booze that grog and pike enjoy. They are pouty when they are at party that doesn’t serve ale.”

“Excellent. Diedre finished the wedding veil.”

 “Did I hear correctly you and Percival spawned.”

 “Really Declan please don’t refer to the baby like we are demons.” She said “Stop having your messages sent to the castle. Stop avoiding Galen, you twat waffle.” She catches a box he tosses to her and opens it “You have your good moments, brother.”  

 “I made it for you. We couldnlt find someone who wasn’t going to overcharge for it.”  He helps her try on the tiara “I put the De Rolo Family crest in the center and added the symbol f the house of eld in the center of the sun.”  it had taken him three weeks to make it “Does Percy realize there is fifty fifty chance you will have twins.”

 “He’s intelligent I think he will figure out, Declan.”  She said she placed it back in the box and handed it to him “Shaun, don’t forget you are invited to the wedding. You are a valued friend to the both of is.”

 “Of Course I have not forgotten my assistant will handle the final preparation on the day of your Wedding. I plan to have the shop closed that day.” She goes behind the screen and changes and he snaps his fingers putting the dress on the dress form   “Is that a new outfit? I wasnlt paying attention when you came in.”

 Percy enters “is it safe to come in I don’t want to see her In the dress.” He trips over a foot stool because he has his eyes closed

 “Really Percival?” Gilmore said as he slid the screen in front of it “I would think you wouldn’t believe in superstitions. It is safe to open your eyes I would rather you not damage anything in my shop.”  He helps him up “Gods hepp us if your child ends up anything like you.” He says jokingly

 “Keep that one secret.  Unless they guys get me drunk I don’t intend to tell them how we found out. Because Scanlan would make some stupid joke.”  

 Declan speaking of that annoying little gnome man.” He takes out a box containing a  mandolin inlayed with dragon scales.  “This arrived this morning.”

 “He may not use it but. He thinks no one knows when his birthday is.”  She had ordered it for Scanlan “The little Asshat always has our backs. He deserves something nice.”  She opens the box “How much do I  owe you, Gilmore?”

 “A discount for one of my favorite customers. We will discuss that after the wedding.”  He snaps his fingers after she checks the mandolin and the box becomes a neatly wrapped package.

 A few days later “Happy Birthday, Scanlan.”

 “you know you are the only one who got me anything.” He says looking at the box before he opens it he runs his fingers along the design trying not cry “What makes the design?”

 “They are pieces of dragon scales.”  

 “Percy, is it okay if I hug your future wife if you feel like it is lasting too long you have permission to hit me over the head.” Percy just nods and he goes over and hugs her “You are almost as awesome as I am.”

 Annie “you are welcome, Scanlan Shorthalt.   Will you be the baby’s godfather? She whispered before he sat down.  

 “Was that you telling me first? I am not usually the first to be told anything.”

 She nodded smiling at him “We found out when we went on our trip a few weeks ago.”  

 “when it was yelled at us. By talking rabbits.”  Percy said

 Everyone laughs and they just enjoy the evening.  

 To Be Continued….

Sunday, February 5, 2023

Author’s Note: Knight of Crowns is the title of the first episode I watched of magicians.   The talking bunnies are from the show too.  

[voluntadfuerte]

Julia.

@voluntadfuerte ;

Julia kissed Kady as if asking for forgiveness, hoping to wash away any anger left straddling between them. It was, really, the first time Julia had been alone with Kady since her (re)-transformation into the three-fourths goddess-queen of Filloran dryads. She had been off Earth for a while, but Kady was never far from her thoughts.

She tangled her fingertips, brimming with their divine magic, through Kady’s wonderful curls Julia had always loved so much.

She hated to have to part from Kady’s lips to breathe, but she had to ask her something, too.

“Kady,” Julia said breathlessly, stroking the woman’s cheek, “come to Fillory with me?” Julia knew Kady had never really spent time in Fillory, and that was a shame.

Kady had been pissed at Julia for many things. A friendship growing between them after what happened with Reynard. And then another betrayal when she didn’t kill Reynard. But that didn’t change strong feelings she had for Julia. Someone she had grown to care for deeply, which made the betrayal burn even more. But those lips on hers, those fingers in her hair. She didn’t want it to stop, she wanted more of Julia, all of Julia. But unfortunately, the kiss had to stop.

The question was a shock, considering everything relating to Fillory was not  hers. It was after she was expelled. She hadn’t been really there. But she welcomed the question. Her life on Earth was a mess. And it couldn’t be so bad if Julia was there. She smiled at Julia and pressed her lips on hers. “If there’s more of this, of course.”

[harrietmjones]

Welcome to Fillory

World On Fire - Les Friction

Own Little World - Celldweller (Blue Stahli Remix)

Don't Panic - Coldplay

October - Broken Bells

Jagwar - Shells

No War - Cari Cari

Cruel World - Phantogram

One Last Goodbye - Klergy

Nobody's Fault - Aerosmith

Kings And Queens - Aerosmith

Shut Up And Dance - Aerosmith

Line Up - Aerosmith

Moya - Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Dash and Blast - Yndi Halda

Could've Moved Mountains - Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra

[Playlist]

[ohgodsimback]

Eliot Waugh Moodboard

(x)(x)

(x)(x)(x)

(x)(x)

[champagne-king]

I feel like it's impossible for me to explain how much I love Eliot Waugh. So let me start with some of his quotes. "I bond fast. Time is an illusion." Quentin: If you're trying to tell me that it gets better- Eliot: Oh, God, no. It doesn't. I'm trying to tell you, you are not alone here. "I think something might really be...broken." "Becoming me was the greatest creative project of my life." "I know I said I didn't need a family to become who I was supposed to be, but it turned out that I did. And it was you." —A letter Eliot wrote to Quentin Dean Fogg: What were you expecting when you dove headfirst into that fountain? Eliot: ...I was expecting to die. Eliot is so, so sad, and he is so, so tortured. By killing someone who made his life absolute hell, he discovered he was telekinetic. He had to kill someone else - someone he loved - to protect everyone else. He lost his two best friends for a period of time because of a stupid, under-the-influence decision he made, but the thing that killed him the most was the thought of losing Quentin - and only Quentin. He threw himself - as his clay-made clone - in front of an attack directed at Quentin without even thinking about what could happen. He didn't care what could happen to him. He threw himself in front of Quentin, in front of a fatal attack, as second nature. He didn't care what happened to him, as long as Quentin was okay. And, despite everything that happened, he still became the High King of Fillory. He will go down in Fillorian history as High King Eliot, The Spectacular, because that is what he is. Despite wanting to die. Despite the bad things that had happened to him. Despite all of that. He will still be known as one of the greatest Kings to rule over Fillory. And even though it is fictional, if that isn't uplifting and if it doesn't give you hope, there is something seriously wrong with you.

[orbiit]

?? 👀

“Look, whatever you think you saw - that’s not what you saw.” Laura rasped, clenched her jaw, eyed him up and down. There was still a tuft of fur retreating from her nape, doing a pretty good job of negating her words. But damn if she wasn’t about to stare at him until they were convincing. “Why’re you out here this late, anyway? It’s - dangerous.” There were all kinds of things creeping around, like werewolves missing a shoe because they’d lost it somewhere by a tree. Dangerous. 

[fixated-on-something]

(Intro, will be updated frequently)

My main blog is @robin-writes-and-such

Accidentally created another magicians side blog @quentinlives oops more places for my delusional rambling oh noooo how will I cope

You can Call me Robin, Felle, or Ray (or something else like ‘That weirdo that’s obsessed with the magicians’)

I frequently note spam people by accident- sorry if you receive 1000 notifications!

I’m a minor, just dont be weird and don’t like ask me for personal info <3

This blog will probably change what it’s centred around quite a bit, but at the moment it is SyFy’s 2015-2019 show The Magicians, which I got so obsessed with that I needed to contain it in this side blog.

Most of the things I post will probably just be my opinions and stuff and I know this show doesn’t have a huge fandom anymore so

If you’re also into The Magicians thennn welcome!

Also I’m clearly an OTP Queliot supporter so yk- I guess if you don’t like that ship thennn agree to disagree????

TAGS:

The Magicians: fixated-on-magicians

Ride the Cyclone: fixated-on-rtc

Hadestown: fixated-on-hadestown

Les Misérables: fixated-on-lesmis

(I’ll index more tags here whenever this blog changes fandoms, or if I fall in so deep that I need to sort by category, any time I make a new tag I try to go back and tag all my posts from that fandom with it)

THE FANFICTION

I am planning and writing a Magicians fanfiction that would be a hypothetical sixth season, in which I’ll be almost 100% canon compliant (maybe discounting some of season 5). Posts related to this fic will NOW be tagged Further Than Fillory (previously tagged MS6FF, standing for Magicians Season 6 Fan Fiction)

THE MAGICIANS DECK

I bought a second hand deck of cards, and I’m making a series of drawings in which the Magicians cast are the face cards, and each ace represents the dynamics and plot lines of the people in that suit. When the drawings are finished, I will print out the drawings and paste them onto the cards! I’ll also be drawing side characters onto the number cards. To see progress on this, look under the tag “Felle’s magicians deck” and for more specificity they are sorted by suit as well (example: Felle’s hearts suit)

ADDITIONAL NOTE:

You are free to use my art for stuff with credit! Go nuts! A lot of the art I post here is realism studies or me tracing screen caps and spicing them up for personal projects. As long as you credit me if you’re using my art as a pfp or something it is all good! Just DO NOT USE MY ART FOR COMMERCIAL USE (selling it or anything) and PLEASE PLEASE do not print out my playing cards! I am looking into selling them as prints in the future and would prefer that you not print them before then! Thank you <3

[eliotqueliot]

Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 8

Welcome! I'm writing a series of haiku about the Mosaic! Disclaimer, I don't own any of these images (they're from the TV series adapted from Lev Grossman's series, The Magicians, which aired on SyFy). I'm just writing about them, ekphrastic style (seeing the image is an important reference when reading the poem, so I wanted to group them together). To read more about the project, the form, my author's notes (including a few more haiku), and to eventually see some sketches I made of these scenes, please visit the page for this chapter at AO3 (link below). I'm going to be rolling out the sketches as I have time, so please stay tuned for the rerelease! Either way, I hope you'll enjoy these reflections on the best episode of TV (The Magicians, Season 3, Episode 5, “A Life in the Day”) and my favorite ship, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh!

Mosaic Haiku - Chapter 8 - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

(Please also find some cool images for "A Life in the Day" at Getty and SyFy.)

-----------------------------------

Eliot

You jumped at the chance to help me save Fillory, though your heart's breaking.

What luck: a nerd god; a shrine to your dreams, my home. You speak great fanboy.

First time we see it: First Portal back. We stand here, facing something new.

(Eliot's in quotes; Quentin's in italics.)

"Go time." We've got this. "...the quest is you and me." Just follow me, stay close.

Teddy

My favorite game: Papa tosses me so high: always catches me.

Quentin

At last, the real you. Thought I'd lost you forever. Don't walk out that door.

--------------------------

To read all the chapters of Mosaic Haiku on Tumblr or check on which AO3 chapters have sketches posted:

If you'd like to leave comments/kudos, or see the sketches I'm making when they're available, please visit:

[highkingfen]

I just stumbled on the french title of The Magicians episode and they are TERRIBLE

My favorite worst translation of Season One

Bienvenue à Brakebills (Unauthorized Magic translated as Welcome to Brakebills)

Magie et conséquences (Consequences of Advanced Spellcasting translated as Magic and consequences)

Rêve ou réalité ? (The World in the Walls translated as Dream or reality?)

Magie, Maladie et Mentors (Mendings, Major and Minor, translated as Magic, Sickness and Mentors)

La Plaie maudite (The Strangled Heart translated as The curse wound)

Le Manoir des Plover (The Writing Room translated as Plover’s mansion)

Ressentir ou agir (Remedial Battle Magic translated as Sense or act)

Le Passage pour Fillory (Thirty-Nine Graves translated as the Fillory pathway)

L'Heure de la vérité (Have You Brought Me Little Cakes translated as the hour of the truth)

My favorite worst translation of Season Two

Le royaume de Fillory (Night of Crowns translated to Fillory’s Kingdom)

Retour à Brakebills (Hotel Spa Potions translated to Back to Brakebills)

Une journée off (Cheat Day translated by An Off Day)

La fille qui m'a dit (The Girl Who Told Time translated by A Girl Told Me)

Excursion dans l'au-delà (The Rattening translated by A trip to beyond )

Mortelle gourmandise (We Have Brought You Little Cakes translated to Killing Sweetmeat )

As a french speaker I can say

[sneaky-ramen]

wowwww the resemblance between him and adam brody tho

have we talked about these pictures