[Audio] @ SuprNerd - open

[moderatelymaladjusted]

[The first few seconds of the recording is just Quentin breathing, fast and shaky at first and just before he speaks, the breathing evens out. The whole speech will be said fast and jerky, like the words are just spilling out without thought.]

What the hell? I can't be the only one who's thinking this, but just what the fucking hell? What the hell just happened? This place, oh shit, this place just-- did any of you see things? Hear things? Fucking feel things? And why? Just, why? I thought we were here to help, to find a way to solve this-- this whole puzzle and suddenly there's something here that made me think I was losing--? That's just-- it was just to fuck with all of us?

What the hell? That's what I want to know - just, what the hell? Is this hell? Is that why?

So, if you're listening to this, lady in the lighthouse? Fuck you! Seriously. Fuck. You.

Also, someone took my hoodie and I need that, so please bring it back. Thanks.

Comments

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Yeah? Okay. That's-- yeah, that's good.

[It isn't, though. And there's the part that wants to save Eliot from everything that's screaming at him, and he drowns it out by running his fingers through the curls at the nape of Eliot's neck, smothers it under the scent of his skin and his hair and the way it tickles his lips when he kisses it.]

It's going to be okay, Eliot.

[itselbitch]

God-- [ he laughs dryly. ] When has it ever been, Q? Beyond when Fillory was ours.

And even then, I. I left you all alone.

I miss my first-world millennial problems. I just want to. Bitch about how the barista skimped on my espresso and. Wonder if I'm ever going to own a house.

[moderatelymaladjusted]

You want to own a house?

[Because it's easier to focus on that, than on anything else. Quentin kisses Eliot's head again.]

It's been okay. In between things? It wasn't all bad. For some of the time. And you didn't-- you died. It sucked. But. I-- that's life? It ends and it's sad, but.

[itselbitch]

But...?

[ he draws back with a sigh, reluctant, but wanting to face quentin again, kisses his forehead and holding his face as he presses their brows together. ]

And--not really? I mean. I like the idea of a house? Like a manor or. Estate. Somewhere I can invite my friends. Somewhere large and. Decadent. Where everyone can just have fun and relax. Do whatever they need to do and know they belong.

But after Fillory, it's just. Honestly, I don't know if I belong on Earth anymore. It's. Familiar, sure. And convenient and. Comfortable. But it. Wanted to destroy me since the day I was born. I. Maybe I just don't belong anywhere though. And. And Fillory didn't want me anymore.

That's why I'm here, and Margo isn't.

[ like martin. cast out once his worth had been spent. but unlike martin, eliot knows better than to overstay his welcome. ]

[moderatelymaladjusted]

Or--

[Quentin says quietly, hands coming up to mirror Eliot's hold, resting against his neck and the line of his jaw.]

Or, this-- listen, maybe? Maybe you didn't get kicked out of Fillory, but someone just made a portal and it pulled you here. You don't remember dying? So-- so maybe you didn't? Maybe you were kidnapped.

[It's a slim maybe, almost non-existent and without any proof at all to back it up, but it's still a sliver of hope and Quentin is going to hang on to that, and not touch on that 'but...?'.]

[itselbitch]

[ it's so sudden, eliot's brows only raise, and after he has a moment to actually breathe does he laugh softly. ]

Q. I've been saying that all along.

[ he laughs again as he kisses q, slow and loving. he can feel the protest against quentin's lips, it's all the more reason why he lingers, even if it's only chaste.

they've found their footing again, and that's all that really matters. ]