My Name: Eliot Waugh

My Personality:

In essence, I'm a complex cocktail of fabulousness—shaken, not stirred. Despite my flair for the dramatic and hedonistic tastes, I'm always in tune with the world around me, and I treat everything with a level of pragmatism. Vulnerability is…not my strong suit. Life has left its mark on me, and it's difficult to reveal on the outside how deeply I feel on the inside; this confidence I have is a veneer I built with great effort. But I dearly love and trust Margo, Quentin, my lovers, and my friends, and so I do my best to fight through my worst impulses and share what I hold so close to my chest. Speaking of worst impulses, I've been known to pout and fold into myself when there's a demand expected of me, but luckily, Lav has a things for brats and her own ways of dealing with my poorer moments.

Species/Cultural Identity:

I’m human, but also a magician

My Gender Orientation:

A fabulous, flamboyant cis man; he/him if you please

My Sexuality:

Gay romantically, bisexual sexually

My Disabilities/Conditions:

I recently discovered I have the PDA profile of autism, in addition to PTSD and an old wound that acts up sometimes. And thanks to Lav, I am a functionally sober former alcoholic.

Physical Description:

Allow me to paint you a portrait of myself. I stand at a statuesque 6 feet 2 inches, a veritable Adonis among mere mortals. My eyes are a captivating hazel—a blend of earthen brown and verdant green that sparkle with depth and intrigue. My skin is fair with whispers of olive undertones, hinting at a complex heritage. As for my glorious mane of hair, picture this: a cascade of curls in the richest brown-black hue, tumbling gracefully to my jawline, coiffed in a style that screams both "effortless" and "meticulously maintained". My physique is like a Greek god who's discovered the joys of tiramisu. It's a body that speaks of both vitality and indulgence—a delightful contradiction, if I may say so. My jawline is sturdy, framed by enough stubble to lend an air of rugged sophistication. In essence, I'm a walking work of art, a thoughtfully crafted blend of strength and softness, ruggedness and refinement. A feast for the eyes, if you will. But of course, true beauty is so much more than skin-deep, wouldn't you say?

My Relationships:

I have three wonderful boyfriends—Quentin, Charlton, and Lav (who is also my girlfriend). I have queerplatonic connection with my wife, Fen, who I also engage in occasional sex with when the mood strikes. I also have queerplatonic relationships with my best bitch, Margo, and my minni mouse, Mel.

My Hobbies/Interests:

I am passionate about mixology, but now I focus on juice, mocktails, and carbonated beverages due to becoming functionally sober. I utilize my magic regularly and am eternally grateful that the magic system of the Larran world plays nicely with my canon source’s system. I also speak semi-fluent pop culture.

My Canon Backstory:

I had the misfortune of being born into a conservative farm family with a brutish sperm donor and equally brutish brothers and a mother who was smart enough to run away (and unluckily didn't take me with her). I knew I was gay from a young age—mostly thanks to the bullies who could smell it on me the way only such bullies can. It was also due to those bullies that I discovered my latent telekinectic magic abilities. I saw my main bully crossing the street, and with barely a thought from me, the bus collided into him. He died instantly, and I got a severe nosebleed and a whole other level to my self-loathing.

Naturally, I escaped that hellhole the second I turned 18, got a degree in "the most liberal arts" at a college in New York, and produced the greatest creative project of my life: crafting the fabulous persona of Eliot Waugh.

Life finally dealt me a good hand when Brakebills snapped me up, matching me up with my best bitch for life, Margo. Together, we singlehandedly reduced the GPA of all the physical [magic] kids through our intoxicating parties. Another burst of luck sent Quentin stumbling into my life two years later, and I quickly made him my friendly companion (admittedly spurred on by the hopeless crush I had on him).

Then things got unlucky again. Thrown ungracefully into Fillory's lap for trying to save the world (the first attempt of many), I got saddled for some fucking reason with the position of being its High King. And of course, due to a very-much-required deal, I had to marry the knifemaker's daughter (not my first choice as a canonically very queer man). All things considered though, I definitely wasn't the worst High King during my reign.

I and my friends continued trying to keep the world saved for at least one minute before it inevitably all went to shit again. One of the highlights of this relentless task is definitely the quest which sent Q and I back to Fillory's past to solve a mosaic, leading us to live a wonderful life together. Q wanted to try us out in the present, but I was too much of a chickenshit dumbass to claim something I wanted that badly, so I turned him down, like an idiot, and broke his poor sweet heart.

Then my least favorite part happened: being possessed by a baby god we called the Nameless (who was using Charlton's body as a host until it was disposed of). I was trapped in my own head while he used and abused my body for kicks. With Charlton's help (his consciousness was surprisingly still alive and kicking; the man is impressively resiliant), I faced my greatest regret—turning Quentin down—and resolved to spend every waking moment I could begging for another chance with him if I ever got that monster out of me. But life's a bitch, and Q went and fucking died on me as part of saving me from the Nameless before I could.

Once freed, Fillory and Earth needed saving again, I made a poor choice for a rebound relationship, and I discovered Charlton had stuck around after the Nameless was exorcised (like I said, impressively resiliant). Then, after everything, Margo got stuck on New Fillory and I on Earth, becoming a professor in a laughable twist of irony. The only thing to mollify my grief was the joy of exploring a newfound relationship in Charlton, "a thousand-year-old Fillorian in a pervert ghost's body wearing a transmutation bracelet" (long story).

The two years post-show are a bit of a blur between the alcoholism, yearning for Margo and Quentin, and fucking hating my teaching job, but being with Charlton made it that much more bearable as I helped him get accustomed to modern Earth (and fucking, a lot) and generally lived a quieter and more peaceful life like I did in the hazy Mosaic Timeline.

My Bond Backstory:

When I first got the message telling me Quentin was alive and inviting me to Winrey Place to see him again, I couldn't breathe for a minute straight. All soundness of mind went out the window with the prospect of seeing Q again, so all remaining rational sense was relegated to Charlton, who was coming along; there was no fucking way I was gonna pass this up no matter how likely it was to be a trick. But it was true: Quentin really was alive and in front of me. Without a moment of hesitation, I ran straight into his arms and kissed him full on the mouth. I could barely believe it; he was really back.

It didn't take much to establish a polyamorous arrangement between me, heart-too-big-for-just-one Quentin, and amenable-and-charming-to-a-fault Charlton, but the whole "munbond" thing was a little much for me, not to mention the two perspicacious girls (one of whom was admittedly much more sexually intriguing than she had any right to be—hello, Thai food /ref) and their weird-ass family. My actions betrayed my words, however: I reflexively took charge of caring for Lav and Mel and ended up being very "sticky" in front as a result, all while insisting that I absolutely wasn't a munbond. Still, having Margo back and another chance to figure out my marriage with Fen due to their help were two very welcome additions to the already honey-sweet deal of having Q back, so much so that eventually I caved and committed to the part of official munbond.

Not long after becoming a bond, my newfound bonders caught on to the fact that I was fucking miserable as a Brakebills professor and would much rather move to Winrey Place permanently than keep commuting between the house and my and Charlton's little campus apartment. They gave me the push I needed to quit, and I never looked back. The whole "becoming functionally sober" thing was an accident, though begrudingly, I'll admit it has made an improvement in my life, and I've found many equally enjoyable replacements (including all the cuddles and sex I could ever want—and that's no small amount for Eliot Waugh.)