Nectar of the gods
Queliot Week 2026 themes
Day 6: Saturday, June 20❤️ Immortal/Mortal❤️ Magical creatures
Quentin stepped through the door and had to take a moment just to calibrate. Bacchus and his disco club full of writhing bodies had been one thing, an overwhelming thing that made it tempting to run and hide. This was something else entirely. Not that his first instinct was not still to run back the way he came in, just in a different way. Bacchus, in Quentin's estimation, was the ‘jock that never grew out of college’ level god. Whatever happened here was creepy; ‘come into my parlor, said the spider’, but in a feeling good, country club for the ultra elite setting.
There was enough gold around to assume King Midas had been through at some point.
It made him think of walking into the full Alice in Wonderland book in a single space. A Wonderland with upscale class, a lot of draped silk, and mushrooms that looked less like mushrooms and more like… something that was not a mushroom. Fantasy, sexy, high fashion?
Impressive, really, since there were no mushrooms, just the odd impression of long, phalli- no, he wouldn't even think of it. They were just, uh… mushroom resemblances. This was what he got for following directions from the PartyCity, dollar store god. He took a long, deep breath with the hope that any of those old breathing exercises he learned as a teen in therapy would help save him now.
The lamps and the candles, even the cushions on the floor, Wonderland or not, made him think of drugged-up fever dreams mixed with storybooks. Storybooks which, in this case, would be banned from libraries by irate mothers named Karen. He ran the zipper on his jacket up and down to feel the grinding snick-snick of it moving over the inlaid metal teeth.
The fancy tea set on the antique table set the vibe. It might have been responsible for the prevailing Wonderland thoughts, in all honesty. Either way, he absolutely had to stop thinking of mushrooms. The long couch? That really did look like a cluster of mushrooms, though.
The room would be much less intimidating if he had been alone. Unfortunately, he'd realized the moment he walked in that he was being studied by shrewd, cutting eyes. It would be nice if he could avoid that a bit longer, but he came with the express purpose of gaining an audience. If only he was a bit more brave and a lot less stressed.
Two comfortable looking thrones were center stage of the garish scene; one vacant and the other occupied by a very lithe, long, and hedonisticly appealing… King of Hearts? He wouldn't swear to that since most of the costume was a bit ambiguous. Now that he forced his eyes to stay longer on the man, no, god, he could only assume it was some kind of Greco-Roman figure.
Though, if it was Wonderland themed, he was fairly sure it was the King and Queen of hearts that ruled Wonderland. That wouldn't be so terrible. He was very good at the cards part of Wonderland, he knew this. Not that his shaking hands could hold a desk at the moment.
The king in the books, he felt certain, looked less like he dropped out of a scandalous, titillating Vogue photoshoot designed to get single, or married, thirsty individuals to buy the issue for the sole purpose of fantasizing.
It was still jarring to realize there was some ancient god in front of him with one long leg thrown over the arm of the throne, his dark hair an artful display of curls, a picture of bored, indifferent, indolent Greek mythology. Or the modern update of said mythos. This man with his keen, disarming eyes running right through Quentin, looked far more powerful and believable as an ancient power than Bacchus ever could.
"Well, hello there," a smile played at the corners of the god's mouth as he purred the words.
Oh. Oh, why had Quentin's knees gone weak there for a second? What was that? That was not fair! A god's voice was… unfair. So smooth and rough and silky and… fucking gods!
"You're late," the man informed him, still seemingly bored but amused at the same time, his eyes twinkling as he looked the puny mortal up and down.
He actually felt his brain shut off.
Quentin's mouth hung open, his head nodding automatically, because obviously whatever this man said had to be true. "I, uh…"
I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. No. No, not happening. Nice try, brain. Thank you for the input.
But why was he late, again?
Was that– was that– was the– was his– that shirt was sheer. Hinting at real fabric, gossamer, top button undone. See through – see everything. He could see his nipples, and he really should not have noticed that. Skin tight though they were, at least his pants were not sheer. Merlin or whoever only knew how Quentin would have handled that. They did accentuate the length of his legs, though, and they were very long indeed. Who knew he had a thing for long legs? It was fine. Keep breathing. Stop blushing. Don't be a prude.
He was long and fluid like Quentin always thought the Tolkien elves would be; lithe and long like the trees. Gracefully, he stood up, one hip cocking as he scrutinized the human in the room that was exponentially less pleasing to the eye, no contest. Also, looking at god hips was a bad move, he should not do that. Bad. Eyes were supposed to stay up.
The god cleared his throat, "I asked you a question, aren't you going to answer?"
Oh, shit! "You did?"
The god walked down the steps, his hips doing artful things while Q tried to be sure he didn't stare too hard. The miles and miles of man walked right up to him, looking down his nose at him. There was no question Quentin had forgotten how to breathe.
“You're supposed to tell me you're sorry,” The god purred, leaning over him with all that impressive height.
Mind on overdrive, Quentin squeaked out a hasty, “Sorry!”
Those pretty eyes looked right into his, “‘Sorry’ what?”
“Sir!” He had no idea what else he could say.
Long fingers ghosted along Q's jaw, the god's mouth pulling into a delighted, predatory smirk, “Good boy.”
Quentin shivered with his entire body as the finger dragged along his jaw and then broke contact. He very nearly chased the touch, swaying forward without meaning to and – Oh, okay, what? He felt himself startle into his normal brain. Wow, what? The pulsing want, want, and maybe arousal buzzing through him was as unexpected as the 'Touch me again, Daddy' that almost tumbled out of him.
Because, what?! What literally was that? He never in all his life! It was concerning how badly he would like to climb right up that tall, dark– Hu uh. Nope. No, not, no. Nope. Not going there. His libido could crawl right back into its box, thank you.
This was not how he responded to even very attractive people, thank you very much! He had never had this instant of an attraction before in his life. Was it a god thing? If so, why had he not felt it with Bacchus, the guy that literally put something on his tongue? Was that why those other people liked Bacchus? Had he been immune to whatever…godly hocus-pocus was there but not whatever this one had going?
“I'm Eliot.” The god interrupted the existential crisis with an airy wave of his hand, “Follow me.”
Eliot moved past him toward a yet unexplored halfway, managing to get Q's skin to tingle at the nearness even without touching him. Everything in his nervous system wanted to lurch after the man like a puppet, but he made the attempt to resist. If they went to other locations, who knew how long it would take to get any of his questions or requests out into the open.
“Uh, Bacchus sent me?”
Eliot swiveled partially back to him, looking deeply amused, “I know. Though, I honestly thought he would forget. He's not always prompt with his promises.”
An unpleasant zing of panic ran up his spine, “What?”
What had Bacchus neglected to mention? And also, what had Bacchus neglected to mention!? He did not need this! He did not need yet another one of these gods playing ping pong with he and his friends. He should never trust these stuck up, insane gods even if the last one seemed like a harmless party crazed lush. It had been stupid to come to this place. They kept repeating exactly the same mistakes and he had no idea why!
The abject panic must have been on display across his face, because something in the god's expression melted into something softer. He turned back and settled his fingers along the back of Quentin's neck, a soft shushing sound on his tongue, squeezing ever so gently into the coiled human muscles.
Eyes closing, body relaxing more than it had in days, Quentin found himself believing Eliot when he whispered, “It's alright. You're safe here.”
This was an emotional roller-coaster, if he was honest. He and his emotions couldn't decide what to do with any of it. Not that he expected it to be simple even if Bacchus swore one of the two god's living in this fever dream of a building would be willing to help him. That was exactly why he came alone, just in case. After everything, he knew he should be more wary, but he couldn't even bring himself to pull away.
With effort, Quentin blinked his eyes open, "What exactly... did Bacchus promise?"
Eliot's smile shifted back to that playful grin he was starting believe was most at home on those lips. "He promised to send me a cute boy. By now, he knows what I like. I prefer the high-strung super-nerds."
Quentin found it in himself to muster up a glare, "Thanks ever so."
The laugh it drew out of Eliot was musical and magical. He would swear the god glowed for a moment. No wonder these beings were worshiped in the old days. He could probably spend his entire life making this immortal laugh and find it a life well spent.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
(Background things to know: Quentin, Julia, Alice, Kady, and Penny went to Fillory. Alice still died. Josh, Kady, and Victoria convince them to come back to earth to help them summon a god to bring Alice back. They each have things they want to fix and the Coven convinced them to help bring out OLU. During the attack after the failed summoning, Victoria, badly injured, takes Josh away. Chaos obviously occurred; Q fights when he sees Renard go for Julia, spurring them to fight their way out. Kady gets Penny while they run and they escape. However, they know he (the fox) is hunting them.
He and Julia visit Bacchus (they are a bit traumatized by the near miss and some of the Coven being killed) but Bacchus tells them about a god that is least likely to kill them that might be able to help. Q secretly visits him alone to protect the others. There he meets Eliot.
Eliot and Margo are gods.)
Though I know Margo is not shown here, she's in the building.
@magiciansfanworksextravaganza