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Summary
Quentin Coldwater is a vampire, which means he constantly wants to kill and eat everyone, and so far he’s handled that through a few simple and rational measures: he never leaves his apartment, pays rent with remote gig jobs, and has his best friend bring him bagged blood and library books. His undead life looks a lot like clinical depression and agoraphobia. This might be about to change.
Bookmarked by agentscully
16 Dec 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
I am obsessed with this weird vampire story. <3
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“What time do you get off work, Quentin Coldwater?”
Quentin closed the till. “Why do you ask?”
“Because.” The customer’s smile broadened, or deepened, or darkened. “You’re cute, and I’d like to fuck you.”
Quentin laughed out loud at that—his brazenness, the sheer absurdity of the statement. How impossible it was to take him seriously. “Is that your best line?”
“Depends.” The customer tilted his head, a gesture at once predatory and playful—as though he intended simultaneously to promise danger and to assure Quentin that this was really all one big game the two of them were playing together. “Did it work?”
(Or: In which Quentin did get into Yale, and magic is not, in fact, real, but being seduced by Eliot Waugh nonetheless retains some sparkle-restoring properties.)
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“El—I don’t think you should touch it—” Quentin draws in a breath, and the fragrance fills his senses. Not a false fragrance like perfume, but sweet like syrup on pancakes or—he takes in another breath. Whatever it is diffuses through him, fizzier and lighter than the champagne, fuzzy warmth spreading through his nerves, his cells lit from within. When his hand glances against Eliot’s knee, a jolt hits him, like a zap of static electricity running up his arm, turning to flame inside. He can smell Eliot, the scent of his cologne spicy and masculine, mixing with the sweet, burnt sugar scent of the pollen.
“You—do you feel that?” Eliot’s knuckles brush against his and Quentin whimpers at the touch, the hair on his arm standing on end.
“Yeah—oh.” Quentin gasps. He blinks at the shimmering air. It makes everything look like a misty fairytale, and when he glances at Eliot again, a shockwave rolls through him, the muscles in his abdomen clenching, threads of need rolling up and weaving together inside him, swirling in the pit of his stomach. Eliot is—God, he’s exquisite. Quentin wants to worship him—fuck, he was meant to—to fall at his feet, to offer himself, mouth open, to serve him, give him pleasure.
Bookmarked by agentscully
16 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Sex pollen AND forced marriage? Sign me right the fuck up.
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Summary
The night before the new school year begins at Brakebills, Eliot meets a cute guy at a bar in the city and accompanies him to a party at a random apartment. He doesn't know it, but his life is about to change forever.
Series
- Part 2 of enchanted to meet you
Bookmarked by agentscully
14 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Our heroes meet at the party from the pilot; short and very sweet.
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King Quentin seems to take their silence for discomfort and frowns guiltily. "Sorry, there's probably more important stuff I should be asking," he mumbles, fidgeting with his sleeve. "Is there, um, a cure for cancer? Who's the president?"
Eliot grimaces, and can practically feel the others doing the same.
"Ask about Zunes again," Penny says.
or: In order to take his rightful place as High King of Fillory, Eliot first has to meet the current king in Whitespire - King Quentin, who's been waiting for the High King to arrive in Fillory since he first ended up there himself.
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Bookmarked by agentscully
11 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
King Quentin is so irresistible that Eliot proposes on the spot. Basically.