#dwarf x elf

[dionis-kaos]

Gigolas porque Why the fuck not???

[djsherriff]

[ben-phantomhive-trash]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf Characters: Gimli (Son of Glóin), Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil Additional Tags: Silmarils, Elf Lore, beren and luthien reference, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Dwarf Culture & Customs, Elf Culture & Customs, Fantasy Racism (it gets better), Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Gimli asks for Legolas' hand in marriage and Thranduil laughs at him, tasking him with obtaining a Silmaril. Gimli delivers it.

[4uru]

Oh to be a 12 year old, in lockdown, isolated from friends, listening to @itsapmseymour for the first time since the "god creating things " compilation in 5th grade or smth. And there was this one post about a dwarf and elf dating, and how wonderful it would be, the dwarf would work in the forge and the elf would sing to them for hours.

Anyway, i created these characters when i was 12, i love them, and would die for them

(Art is in chronological order)

(2020)

(2021)

(2022)

Part two here

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - A Special Day

Something was missing. Even with slumber’s haze still shrouding most of his mind as he stirred, Mar could sense the noticeable difference in his surroundings almost immediately. There was meant to be a beautiful dwarf cozily curled up beside him in bed, and yet when his eyes fluttered open, he was greeted instead by an empty space, the smells of incense and herbs lingering on the sheets the only evidence that his wife had once been there at all. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts as he slowly sat up on the mattress, the elf recalled that he had sensed Guinevere slipping as quietly as she could from the bed during his nightly trance, though not before depositing a loving peck on his forehead as he rested. It was strange, however, for her to wake before him, just as strange in fact as her heading to bed much earlier than usual the previous night. The more he mulled over his wife’s odd behavior, the more Mar’s innards began to uneasily twist and churn in his belly. However, just as his ears started to droop like wilting leaves, they perked up again at the soft padding of feet against the wooden floorboards of the hallway, Guinevere’s distinct gait unmistakable.

As their bedroom door creaked open, Mar’s nose was immediately flooded by several distinct and delectable scents wafting into the room. The sharp tang of citrus, the slightly tart sweetness of berries, the hearty warmth of something freshly baked, the sugary yet woody aroma of syrup, and the bitter bite of coffee ebbed by milk and some kind of sweetener all mingled in the air as the elf’s attention was drawn to his darling wife, her arms laden with a large tray. 

“You’re awake! Damn it, I knew I should’ve gotten up earlier.” Guinevere remarked, her bottom lip puckering in a slight pout as she shuffled towards her husband, the dishes and cutlery on the platter clattering faintly with each step. “You haven’t been up long, have you?”

When Mar shook his head, the troubled wrinkle along Guin’s brow relaxed and her pout shifted into a gentle smile instead. Circling around to the druid’s side, she carefully balanced the tray on the bedside table before hopping up beside him on the mattress, her arms circling around his middle while she leaned against him. Mar surveyed the contents of the platter with wide eyes, the variety of fresh fruits sparkling like rare gemstones while steam curled off of the biggest, fluffiest pancakes the elf had ever seen. Almost as if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly, having promptly unraveled all the knots it twisted itself into only moments ago at the promise of food.

“Is this for me?”

“Mmm hmm, although I’m contractually obligated to tell you that I had some help putting it together. I was going to try and make the pancakes myself, but Butter insisted I ‘leave it to a professional,’” Guinevere rambled, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same. Lifting herself up onto her knees, she delicately kissed her husband’s cheek, which flushed a soft shade of dark rose at her touch. “Happy Birthday, Mar.”

In that instant, any lingering trepidation in Mar’s heart evaporated on the spot, and he chuckled softly at himself, his fretting now seeming quite foolish. The only offense his sweet little wife was guilty of was trying to surprise him to remind him of his specialness to her, behavior which correlated perfectly with her nature. His chest swelling with a feathery lightness now, he pivoted his body towards Guinevere and seized her lips in a tender kiss, her taste still the sweetest flavor to ever hit his tongue. He felt her hands come to rest on either side of his face while his own fingers found their way to her lower back, both of them leaning deeper into the leisurely embrace. 

“You’re…wearing that berry lip gloss again.” Mar murmured when their lips parted, his own already curving into an amused smirk. “I thought your supply was running low and you were trying to save what you had left until you could get more.”

“Well, today’s a special occasion. A little extra effort felt appropriate.” Guinevere replied, donning her own impish smile as her eyes sparkled like polished silver.

A little extra effort. Those coy words rang in Mar’s ears as his eyes drank in his wife’s appearance, finally observing that the lip gloss wasn’t the only difference in her look. Instead of the nightshirt he distinctly remembered her wearing the previous evening, her curves were now snugly wrapped in the robin’s egg blue fabric of a satin bathrobe, the tiniest twitch of the flesh beneath causing the material to ripple and shimmer in the morning light. As his gaze traveled along the garment’s steep neckline and mid-thigh hem that left little to the imagination, he could already feel another kind of hunger starting to smolder deep in his belly, a hunger that begged him to remove what minimal space separated the two of them by pulling the little cleric onto his lap with her delectably plump thighs straddling him. However, before his yearnings could get the better of him, his attention was ensnared by a boxy outline straining against a pocket in the robe.

Giggling at the curious furrowing of her husband’s brow, Guinevere slipped her hand into the pocket and plucked out the small, somewhat clumsily wrapped package inside. “Don’t laugh at the paper. I did my best but you know ‘delicate’ things aren’t really my forte. Besides, you’re just going to rip it off anyways.”

Once she placed the small box in his hands, a rascally twinkle ignited in Mar’s eyes as he briefly glanced at his wife and then back at the package, his slender fingers tracing along its side until he discovered the edge of decorative wrapping. Gradually, he began to peel back the paper along the seams with exaggerated care to ensure it didn’t rip, antics which earned him a playful swat on his bicep accompanied by more of Guinevere’s melodious laughter. He tossed the parchment aside with a showy flourish, but as he removed the lid of the box to reveal its contents, his mischief began to give way to genuine awe. Nestled atop a plush cushion were two golden hair pins that almost seemed to glow when they caught a beam of sun. Clusters of dainty leaves interwoven with sprigs of pearls sprouted along each shaft, every ridge and divot in the metal almost lifelike, and perched amid a bed of foliage near the top of each stick was a sizeable golden moth, its wings unfurled to showcase their intricate detailing.

“I’m going to assume that gobsmacked expression means you like them.” Guin purred, looking rather pleased with herself as she gingerly fished out one of the ornaments. “I just about drove Ursa crazy with how long I was deliberating over different designs, but I wanted to make sure they suited you perfectly.”

“Oh? And why was this choice ‘perfect’ for me? I’m curious now.” Mar mused while running his longer along one of the bug’s impossibly fine antennae. “I mean, I see a little resemblance but something tells me there’s more to it than that.”

“Well-“ Guin began, gently placing the hair pin back in the box alongside its twin before reaching up to brush a stray strand of Mar’s hair away from his face, “-moths are often misunderstood. Some people believe all these misconceptions about them, but those that take the time to learn the truth know what beautiful, gentle, elegant, and majestic creatures they really are.”

For a moment, Mar was at a loss for words and could only stare at his wife, at those gray eyes that saw so much more than just what was directly in front of her. Setting her present aside, he wrapped her in a tight embrace, his face burying in the curve of her neck as he tried to find his voice again.

“You really are something else.” he eventually whispered against her skin, “My greatest gift of all.”

A crimson blush invading her face while little wings fluttered frantically about in her stomach, Guinevere deposited yet another kiss on Mar’s cheek before turning her attention back to the tray on the bedside table. “The food’s going to get cold soon if you don’t eat it. Have your breakfast and then you can decide what you want to do for your special day, okay?”

“Mmm, as good as everything looks, can I have the gourmet meal right in front of me instead?” Mar purred while his hands crept their way back down to firmly clasp her hips. “It looks so delicious: some warm rolls, supple thighs, and an extra generous serving of cake-“

“MAR ALFAUST!” Guinevere squealed shrilly, trying and failing to wriggle free from her husband’s grasp as her cheeks transitioned from a soft pink to a vibrant scarlet. “Eat the breakfast that damn cat and I made for you!”

“Yes, Guinedeer,” her husband crooned cheekily, lifting his head so he could nuzzle his nose against her burning temple. With his lips hovering just beside her ear, he quietly added, “Thank you for all of this, my love. Thank you for making me feel special.”

“You are special, Mar, especially to me.”

[dannymatthewsfictive]

Goddamn thats cute https://youtube.com/shorts/d1lt_3pwH2M?si=cW2CFAq_5_qaf10d

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Imagine

Thinking about a Yandere dwarf boyfriend who works as a blacksmith with an elven reader

Yandere dwarf who doesn’t mind the height difference between you two. What he lacks in height, he makes up in mass. He’s stocky and strong, he can easily carry you wherever you need to go.

Yandere dwarf who often makes you various daggers from the forge. Each one carefully crafted to your preferences. Wouldn’t this help your journey way better than anyone else’s weapons?

Yandere dwarf then began to craft you jewelry and armor. He doesn’t like the thought of you wearing anything from another blacksmith… it makes him a bit jealous

Yandere dwarf who does his best to make sure you’re never injured on any quests. He’s willing to take most of the hits just to ensure your pretty skin is never scarred.

Yandere dwarf who knows his life span is insignificant compared to yours, but he wants to spend the rest of it with you. He doesn’t care that you’re an elf, he wants to be with you

Yandere dwarf who makes you a matching rings so when the time comes that he’s no longer at your side, you’ll always have a part of him.

[master-muffinn]

Lotr/the hobbit x druid!reader pt2

Ori x reader, Thorin x reader, Elrond x reader

Here is the >> part 1 << thank you so much for +500 likes/reblogs for that one! I hope you like this one too! ^^

Ori

🧸 You're the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. At the start he would be too shy to approach you. So he will ask his friends about love and relationships, but also what they know about druids, which isn't so easy since druids aren’t common at all (at least in my fanfictions).

🧸 Ori LOVES your animal forms, specially the ones with fur and he will ask you as nicely as he can master, if he can pet you in any of it's form.

 “Excuse me y/n, if you ever would have the time to transform into any animal, would it be alright if i could pet you? Of course only if you would be fine with it and if it wouldn't make you uncomfortable?”

🧸 If you came with them on their journey to take back Erebor, Ori will tell you awkwardly and a bit shyly, that he doesn't mind holding you if you ever get tired of flying/walking. 

🧸 He is going to try so hard for you! You are so strong, dependable and just so amazing to him. Ori is really looking up to you and he wants you to feel like you can depend on him too! He wants to protect you too, even if he isn't so strong, but he will train extra hard for you! You probably have to tell him once in a while that he is good enough or he will think he is unworthy of you.

Thorin

💎 Doesn't believe Gandalf when he tells him that a druid will be supporting them in their journey. 

“Nobody I know has ever met a druid and hearing about them isn't often. I bet they are nothing but a myth”.

💎 When Thorin meets you he still doesn't believe you're a druid. Just probably an odd wizard/witch that is playing tricks on him. Until you transform…holy shit! Can wizards/witches do that?? He looks at Gandalf only to see him smirking. 

💎 It isn't your animal forms or element abilities that interest him, but the way you transform. The way your body bends and takes shapes after whatever you are supposed to transform to. The moment you change, the moment he has his eyes on you. It may be weird for you or him, but Thorin can't help it! It's so fascinating and it's like he is trying to figure out how you are doing it, but always fails. 

💎 Thorin has probably been looking at you a little too much during battles because the way you fight with your abilities makes you look so gorgeous. Which could leave him getting seriously injured if his teammates didn't watch his back.

“Y/n stop distracting Thorin! Or he loses his focus and dies before making it to Erebor!”

“What!? I didn't do anything?!”

Thorin: “S-shut up!”

Elrond

🍁 He knows the moment he sees you, that you're a druid. 

“It was a long time ago I met a druid. I’m glad to see there's still some more out there”.

🍁 Elrond will invite you over for dinner and have them serve you the best they can make. And he’ll offer you a place to stay for a few days if you're not in a hurry somewhere else.

🍁 Elrond love's to watch you using your ‘magic’ on flowers and plants. He loves to watch how you move your hands so gracefully and shape the plants the way you want it. It's so stunning every time! 

🍁 The first time you showed him your powers. You'd asked Elrond about the beautiful flowers in his garden and if you could take some seeds with you. Elrond of course accepted and was about to go and get you the seeds but he stopped in his tracks and watched you move your hands around one of the flowers and give it enough energy to have it grow the seeds you needed. Elrond stood there speechless. That was something he’d never witnessed before and it was so magnificent.

“Would you like to have some other flower seeds as well?”

Thank you for reading! Have a good day! ❤ Reblogs are very appreciated 🥰

Post made by @master-muffinn

[mudd-art]

Orrin got the anti-romance bug, Halsin is immune. (ref)

They went on a wildshape date to the lake.

[ayamikasai]

I couldn't decide which one of my rook OCs to draw for Veiltober so I went with all of them lol

From left to right: Junae (Elf), unnamed (Dwarf), unnamed (Human), Karas (Qunari).

I love my babies so much. <3

❤️Discord (junyami) for commissions!

❤️Buy me a coffee!

❤️Buy my prints!

❤️Timelapses!

[samleewins]

Legolas and Gimli anime style

Lucia's fault I drew this.

[falcatas]

[el-huddpudd]

and for when somebody who makes gifsets takes a whack at this...

Critical Role: EXU Calamity - Excelsior - Episode 1 - 5:20

Dimension 20: Ravening War - The Seeds of Conflict - Episode 1 - 3:55

Critical Role: EXU Calamity - Fire and Ruin - Episode 4 - 6:05:40

Dimension 20: Burrow's End - The First Stoats - Episode 7 - 1:21:26

[deadthingposting]

Tolkien : yeah dwarfs hate basically every other race and they have a special hatred for elfs specifically

Everyone including Tolkien himself: but what if, hear me out a dwarf and a elf become friends? Like the bestest of friends like lovers even

[4uru]

Do you sometimes by accident sketch something so relatable that it makes u want to melt into it?

I need zia to drown me in that pint-

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Here

“She’s crying.”

In an instant, Mar was wide awake, his senses on high alert. Sitting up, his eyes swiftly scanned the shadow-clad bedroom until they settled on his wife, who was perched on the edge of their bed with her back to him. Guinevere’s head hung low between her quivering shoulders, her fingers digging into the plush material of the mattress as she fought to muffle her sobs. This wasn’t the first time he had found her like this during the hours of the night, no trace of physical harm on her person but her mind and body wracked with unrelenting anguish. The telltale signs were all present: she had had another nightmare and a rather severe one at that given the intensity of her reaction.

His heart aching in his chest, Mar scooted his way across the mattress so he was directly behind her. At first, he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound left his lips as any words his mind drafted up seemed insufficient for providing his beloved cleric the comfort she desperately needed. Moving slowly so as not to spook her and earn himself an elbow to the gut or headbutt to the face, he instead looped his arms around her in a tender embrace. His chest pressed firmly against her back as his head came to rest atop her own, his body enveloping hers like a protective cocoon. He heard his wife’s breathing hitch slightly but she made no efforts to wriggle free; in fact, she seemed to sink deeper into his embrace, as if it was the answer to some unspoken need.

The silence lingered for a few moments longer before Guinevere finally broke it with a faint whisper, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke any louder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t apologize; you’ve done nothing wrong.” Her husband crooned lovingly as his nose nuzzled against the ginger locks atop her head, “What can I do? What do you need most from me right now?”

The little cleric’s lip trembled dangerously as a fresh wave of emotions came crashing over her, threatening to drown her as more tears streamed down her freckled cheeks. “Just…just hold me.”

Mar needed no further instruction. With a tender hand, he spun her to face him and guided her head to rest against his chest. As his arms snaked back around her to cradle her close, his lips pressed a delicate, reassuring peck to his wife’s temple, and though her grip was almost painfully tight as she returned his embrace, he didn’t wince or grimace. The passage of time faded into obscurity as they huddled together in search of some solace, Mar’s heart wrenching painfully at every shuddering sniffle from Guin. As he witnessed her struggle with no relief seemingly in sight despite his efforts, frustration swirled with sorrow to create a caustic brew in his stomach that ate away at his insides, leaving a deep aching in its wake that eventually grew too great to bear. 

“Guin,” he murmured after lowering his lips to hover near her ear again, “I’m not going to insist that you tell me, but…but I might be able to better ease the pain if I know what you saw. If nothing else, you might feel a little better after letting it all out instead of carrying this all alone. Please dear, talk to me; let me bear this with you.”

Her husband’s reasoning was sound, and his plea to share her pain reminded her with a stirring of her heart of the promise they had made to one another on that day of Baracmordin’s salvation which felt so long ago, the promise to no longer carry their burdens and worries alone, the promise they had faithfully kept thus far. Picking up her head, she peered up until she found those golden eyes that gleamed like beacons in the dark, their light shining brighter than the grandest of stars as they burned with the ferocity of a raging wildfire but also comforting warmth of a hearth’s cozy blaze. In their light and heat, she found the strength she needed to force out the words lodged in her chest, though she still shuddered at their vile taste as they left her tongue.

“I was back in that cell beneath Oxwick…”

At those words alone, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Mar’s chest tightened as memories he had cast into the deepest chasms of his mind began to crawl back into the light,  phantom whiffs of fresh blood tickling his nose while images of Guinevere’s bound and battered body danced tauntingly behind his eyes.

“It was just like I remembered it. One guard was finishing up another bout of torturing me when Dracurn strolled in. He taunted and interrogated me for a while before sneering about how he had taken care of you when you tried to come to my rescue. That’s where things changed. He didn’t show me your hand as proof this time…” Her lip quivering dangerously, Guinevere’s voice broke as a dagger-like pain shot through her chest and fresh tears wetted her eyes. For a moment, the words again stuck fast in her throat as she gasped for air, but after some straining, she choked them out as a barely comprehensible whimper, “He held up your head.”

Shock seemed too subdued of a word to describe what Mar was feeling as he stared unblinkingly at his wife, the intensity of her reaction suddenly making perfect sense as he himself struggled to process what she had just described. As the initial numbness started to ebb away, a mixture of sympathy and anger occupied the vacancy it left in its wake. Try as he might, there were certain afflictions he had no power to stop, and yet as he witnessed the mighty warrior he loved tremble like a fragile blossom tossed about by howling winds, he had to wonder if there was truly no way of preventing these nightmares from robbing Guinevere of her peace of mind. However, such musings were not what was needed now. What his wife needed now was action, something tangible to alleviate her immediate suffering, something that not even her deepest, darkest fears could refute.

The haze clouding his eyes crystallized into piercing clarity. He had an idea. Withdrawing his arms from around his wife, he pressed another reassuring peck against her cheek when she whimpered in distress before swiftly unbuttoning the pajama shirt he was wearing so it hung open. Taking Guinevere’s hands tenderly in his own, Mar guided her palms to rest against his left pectoral, studying her face closely the whole time. Though her brow wrinkled in confusion at first, his wife’s face gradually softened as understanding dawned upon her. Her breath hitched slightly as she focused on the warmth of his skin seeping into hers while his heartbeat thrummed beneath her touch, its tempo steady and strong. They lingered like this for a bit before Mar gradually slid her hands upward, her fingers perceiving every slight twitch and quiver of his muscles as they coasted slowly over his shoulders and his neck before coming to cradle his jaw. Pressing himself into her grasp, Mar kissed her palms and wrists, his breath caressing her skin, before locking eyes with her again, his message unspoken and yet unmistakably clear.

I’m here.

For the first time since she had awoken, the tightness in Guinevere’s chest lessened enough for deep breaths of cool air to finally fill her burning lungs until they no longer stung, and the murk impairing her senses steadily melted away as the corporealness of her surroundings, of her husband safe and sound before her, grounded her back in reality once more. And yet, her battered heart continued to ache as it hung heavy in the pit of her churning gut, each throb forcing back into the forefront of her mind the authentic grief her dream had elicited from her. Reading her residual pain all too clearly in her weary eyes, Mar’s brow furrowed with concern as he lowered his forehead to rest against hers, to which she responded by pressing into him as well.

”Where does it still hurt, Guinedeer?” Mar asked softly, first tapping his finger lightly against her temple followed by tapping her sternum. “Up here or down here?”

Sniffling a little, Guinevere cupped Mar’s hand in one of her own and pressed his palm flat against her chest. “I know you’re here with me…but that dream felt so real. Losing you felt so real. I just can’t get it out of my head…”

“Well, I suppose I just have to distract you with something else then, something you can’t resist-” As his hands trailed down her back before coming to rest on his wife’s hips, an impish sparkle ignited in Mar’s eyes as an idea dawned upon him. “-and I think I know just the thing. I need you to turn around though.”

After a moment of hesitation, Guin somewhat reluctantly spun around as her husband requested only for a streak of heat to shoot up her spine from her belly as she felt his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her nightshirt, hoisting the fabric upward until he had pulled it over her head and discarded it off to the side. 

“Mar? What-” 

Guinevere’s voice swiftly broke off as she felt her husband’s lips press against the lowest point of the large tableau of scars along her back, the feeling familiar and yet still surprising in that moment. There was not a trace of carnal desire behind the touch, only tenderness as his lips trailed along every line and curve of the design seared into her flesh, just as he had done many times before. With each loving caress, the little cleric could feel the tension gradually seeping out of her body, driven out by the warm fuzziness welling up in her core, and as the soothing heat dissolved the parasitic load burdening her heart, she drifted weightlessly on the sensations of bliss her husband’s affection provided. Instead of images of that dark, ominous cell, her mind was now flooded with memories of other times her darling had demonstrated his adoration for her in this way. Flashes of hot, passionate nights of skin pressed against skin intertwined with glimpses of quaint and cozy mornings curled up in one another’s arms beneath the sheets and flickerings of quiet evenings of simply relishing in the rejuvenating comfort of each other’s presence after tiring days. With every caress, another addition to the grand mental collage was called forth, blotting out the nightmare until not even a trace remained.

As he deposited one last loving peck along the uppermost section of her scars, Mar coasted his nose slowly up the back of her neck before sweetly nuzzling just below her ear. His warm breath tickling her skin, he cooed just loud enough for her to hear, “Again?” 

“…Please.”

Mar couldn’t help but smile at the sheepishness and the yearning both intertwined in her voice. Dropping his head back down to the bottom edge of the brand, he once more began peppering kiss after kiss along every inch of the rough sections of her flesh, taking his time to ensure he was thorough in his worship of the love of his life. She always melted for him when he did this, and to his relief, not even the most severe of nightmares seemed to override that instinct. With every caress, he could feel her muscles gradually loosening beneath his touch, the way she softened for him only spurring him on until he had yet again covered her back completely in traces of his affection. 

“Better?” he inquired upon burying his nose in the sensitive skin below her ear once more.

“Better…You missed a spot though.”

“Where?”

Hardly had Mar lifted his eyes to meet Guin’s again when his heart did a series of backflips in his chest. There it was, that sparkle in her eyes that stole his breath away every time without fail. Raising a finger, the dwarf coyly tapped it to her lips, which had finally curved into her beautiful smile again. The flames in his belly surging into an even more brilliant blaze, Mar tenderly seized her lips with his own, their intimate waltz unhurried as they drank in each other’s presence. When they both had had their fill, he eased himself back down onto his side and waited for Guin to do the same before tucking her form into his, her distinct aroma of ceremonial incense and medicinal herbs flooding his nose as he guided her head to nestle against the curvature of his neck. Her heavy eyes already starting to close as her husband’s warmth and familiar berry scent enveloped her, Guinevere slid her fingers lightly over his torso until her palm again found his pulse, her own heart adjusting now to match its soothing tempo, and with a loving smile dancing on his lips, her husband cupped his hand over hers, ensuring it would not waver even as she slumbered.

“Rest, deerest. I will still stay close until you wake.”