#thegreatestcreativeproject

Q, my comfort character

@thegreatestcreativeproject​ asked:  "Jesus Christ, Quentin, what happened?" Eliot asked, worry clenching at his heart as he started looking for his coat. "Are you okay?" [X]

​Honestly, Quentin had no idea if he was alright. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been arrested since he hadn’t done anything unusual or illegal. At least not that they knew of, the bank heist from ages ago, was exactly that, ages ago ... So ... 

@thegreatestcreativeproject​ | cuddling for movie | accepting

@thegreatestcreativeproject​ | hand holdiiiing!!!! | accepting

Margo wasn’t best at friendships or relationships or being close to other people. But she always was in par with Eliot. Like a sort of platonic soulmate, if those were a thing. And ruling Fillory as a team fit them both well. he took her hand as they walked in the land and she found comfort in that, that he was with her, that she could count on him.

Quentin was fairly sure that the Fillorians somehow copied ancient Rome and adopted their own version of Saturnalia. It was a festival to Umber and Ember with a celebratory procession to the "Tomb" of Ember (although no sacrifices, thank G-d), banqueting, carnival-like pomp and revelry, gambling, and exchanging of gifts. Quentin nicknamed it the Embernalia.

In their ten years here so far, Quentin and Eliot had never went to the procession (although little Teddy did want to go)...it was a little too strange to consider since the fact they were even at the mosaic was because they had killed Ember and lost all magic.

Still, neither man could help but be a little festive for their son. Wreaths, branches, candles, garlands, and little ancient Fillorian figurines all decorated their cottage.

Teddy was down for his nap, and Quentin took this as the opportunity to go commiserate with Eliot on what gifts they should get their five-year old.

Eliot obediently stilled, allowing Quentin to fuss. "Who knew CD packaging was so dangerous?" he said. They were starting to test options for Earth music on Fillory, and there was no Spotify there, so they had bought a bunch of discs to experiment with. Old favorites and some new stuff, including the new Taylor Swift album Eliot hadn't gotten around to—music hadn't been on his mind when Q was…gone.

Thread here.

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Quentin gently held the hand Eliot cut between his fingers. He wasn't very happy to be in Fillory, and he has had multiple outbursts now about how much he hated magic to Eliot. But with no bandages in sight, Quentin tuts his fingers and performs a healing spell on the cut, watching it intently as it healed. He gave the little scar it left a loving kiss.

"Let's take a break," Quentin said with the best smile he could muster. If being back in his own body felt unreal, being in Whitespire even more so. He didn't feel like the same person, nor did he feel like he belonged their, either. He was happy for Margo that she was high-king, but he just found visiting the place uncomfortable and a bit sad. After all, one of the last things before he died he did was blast Fillory to a plant.

@thegreatestcreativeproject asked: "There you are! The tailor is expecting us twenty minutes ago. Come on!" Eliot said.

❝ WH - ! ❞ he doesn't even have time to ask a question before eliot is yanking him along . his legs are spinning to keep up with el's longer ones .