#gil has adhd i guess

[lordgrimwing]

Ages

(as in: you're how old?!)

Another gala made infinitely better by Elrond’s presence. Gil-galad relaxed in the carriage, legs extended across the slightly bouncing box (he’d never claim it was a great carriage. Whoever made it clearly had more whimsy than sense, which matched his air at parties. It was perfectly serviceable) to the plush bench across from him. 

Elrond (his savior from all things dull and boring and political) looked at his soft, embroidered slippers and shook his head. Clearly, he still thought the footwear choice for the evening was ridiculous despite how Gil-galad displayed himself to his best ability on the dance floor. He, of course, wore practical wood bottomed shoes that wouldn’t have a hole in the heel after a night of stifling reserved and polite revelry—how very Elrond of him. 

Endearing really. At least he’d worn the pair Gil-galad commissioned special for him last year and not the pair he wore to work in the healing halls (very practical, amazingly comfortable, very not suited for someone under his patronage). 

As usual, the evening started with Elrond nearly clinging to his arm as he introduced him as the ‘bright, up and coming physician’s apprentice’ he’d snatched up. They made the rounds, said all the proper ‘how do you does’ to all the right people, avoided the people he really did not want to talk to (they would have wanted to talk politics with him and strategy and career opportunities, which he just wasn’t in to) (was it too much to ask to remain where he was, fair outside of the High Family’s notice?), and ate some truly divine petit fours. Gil-galad had to defend Elrond’s place on his elbow or risk losing the witty commentary on the events to some lord or lady wanting to snatch him off for a dance or three. Made him feel very noble, defending his friends honor from the horrors of the petty nobility who definitely just wanted to know him for his connection to the crown (or to the dispossessed wandering sons of Fëanor who some thought had the greatest claim to the throne and whom Elrond just so happened to be raised by).

Overall, a blinding success yet again.

There was one thing that weighed on his mind. 

Elrond was so charming and graceful despite that wild upbringing with the nomads, it was easy to forget he hadn’t always been connected to Lindon’s lower court. Sometimes things came up that everyone knew about because they were either in the vicinity when it happened or because it came up every few years on polite gossip and reminiscence—everyone, that was, but Elrond. 

This time, it was a joke. Well, not so much a joke and half of story about a certain blond prince and his penchant for unsavory wildlife, but everyone knew the best parts that went without saying (because as it turns out one should generally keep the more lurid details of a minor and hilarious scandal out of everyday chatter when a High Prince was involved, just in case) and found the story perfectly timed and execute and laugh worthy. Gil-galad himself halved until he had tears in his eyes and Elrond had to rescue his drink so he didn’t spill it on the floor, or worse, on his brocade robe (a pain to have cleaned. More reason to keep Elrond all to himself and never lose his sensible head). After that, Elrond turned to him in all seriousness with far more questions that he could answer in a full room.

Because, of course, Elrond hadn’t been here. He hadn’t been in Lindon. He hadn’t been born. Surely his parents (well, the mortal one at least. The elf father (because it was always the elf who sired in these cases. Peculiar and perhaps worthy of later exploration) most likely was traipsing around somewhere) had still been many generations from being born. He didn’t know. 

He was young. All half-elves were, not that Gil-galad had met many others but one did hear about these kinds of things. They were only half elf, after all, and the other half was mortal (humans, almost exclusively, though he heard rumor of a dwarf once), and being half mortal they had a habit of dying like mortals. Unfortunate. He liked not thinking about that.

So, how old was he? 

Gil-galad squinted across the carriage at him, thinking. 

“What?” Elrond asked, staring back at him. “Is there icing in my hair again?”

(The icing incident happened six months ago, and they’d all had a good laugh about it. He wouldn’t be opposed to picking pink icing out of that curly brown hair again).

“How old are you?”

He couldn’t be more than four-hundred years old, maybe as young as three-hundred. His face had some lines but nothing like the older mortal races or even the truly elderly elves (like Círdan, the old gaffer, still insisting he could take his little sailboat out alone like he wasn’t the oldest elf this side of Cuiviénen—wherever that was). A reasonable age. Just a bit younger than him. A good age for dealing with minor nobles. 

“About one-hundred and seventy. Why?”

And living in the middle of nowhere would explain why he missed out on all the good gossip and—wait. 

“What?”

Elrond shrugged his narrow shoulders (but not too narrow. He’d seen how they’d started filling out over the last few years). “Well, I don’t know exactly. Birthdates didn’t seem all that important in the middle of a plague village.” 

“You’re a baby!” The first thing he thought of popped out of his mouth, as sometimes happened when he was relaxed.

“I��m well past elven majority, thank you.” Elrond sounded incensed. “And I’ve seen humans grow up and die, so I’m far from an infant.”

“A hundred and seventy,” Gil-galad repeated, pulling his diverging thoughts back to some semblance of focus. “You’re not even two-hundred and I’ve introduced you to the vices of drink and leaf!”

Elrond snorted. “Dwarven pipeleaf is a superior cultivar, and Maglor gave us rags soaked in aloe liquor to suck whenever we were teething. The only thing you’ve introduced me to is decidedly tame dancing.”

“And the best peaches you’ve ever tried,” Gil-galad insisted, still off balance (he could have done without the reminder that Elrond grew in his teeth all wrong as a child and new ones just kept popping up every few months. At some point he got a whole new set of teeth as a child. Might his body just up and decide that he needed a third set at some point, like some kind of shark? He did not need that kind of body horror in his mind right now).

“And the best peaches,” Elrond agreed. 

Yes, yes, fruit was a topic he could manage.

“Tomorrow,” he announced, stretching his arms and folding them behind his head, “I am going to bring you dewmelon and mulberry in cream and you will never forgive me for not introducing you to it sooner.”

Elrond laughed. “Don’t you have council meetings and work all day tomorrow? That’s all you complained about yesterday.”

Gil-galad sat up, pulled his feet off the seat, and leaned forward. He put a finger to his friend’s lips, hushing him. “Elrond,” he said, “please don’t spoil my imagination with reality.”

He felt Elrond smile under his hand. 

“Okay, but only for tonight.”

[klonoadreams]

Forgot to post this sketch of Venti (which I WAS gonna finish, but lol nope, guess it’ll stay unfinished). Still planning on drawing more of her out later on as soon as I get the energy and actual MOTIVATION to draw.

Some facts about her:

Name: Venti (may or may not be her actual name - her words specifically) 

Pan/Ace Enby (she/her and they/them)

Height: 145 cm

Age: 22/23

Tutorial Rolls: Parvati, Nursery Rhyme, Ko-Gil

Due to summoning trends in the Single Dad Waver Account: Indian-Japanese, with Chinese ancestry.

Neurodivergent as hell, with ADHD and autism.

Dream: To have one big, happy family.

Contrary to her usual expressions (or lack thereof), Venti is not emotionless (far from it). It just takes a lot to get a reaction out of her, and is very much like an open book when intoxicated.

Overall, you’re likely to see her smile a lot around children, especially those who she adopts. She’ll also smile if she likes you very, VERY much... (which is why Wodime is surprised to hear from others about how she rarely smiles)

Will adopt anyone that she wants to adopt (age does not matter to her, if your vibes scream baby to her, she WILL take you in like a mother duck to any rando duckling). But she will also just show a softer side to those who suffer from any insecurities and self-loathing.

Looks like she has it together, and kinda does, but deep down, she is a very lonely person.