#male elf

[disarmonia]

Bel-Yathinn the Fearless ✨ Hey. Let me explain. So this is not fan art, but an NPC from our ongoing homebrew D&D campaign ("Borealis", started 2019) and this means a lot to me. I am still hesitant about posting original art on Tumblr (follow my new page though?🤭) because I don't want to be disappointed with the amount of feedback I'll get compared to fan art that I shared previously. But I know it can't be as bad as it is on tw*tter. The dead bird site is hell bent on not allowing posts from Ukrainians to go outside their Ukrainian-only bubble (thanx, Elon!), so this got barely any likes today, because it got barely any views. It won't show my work to my own foreign followers. I started this piece almost 2 years ago, spent hours upon hours rendering it, hand drawing every goddamn bit of fur on his mantle, and nobody's seen it. I have less than half the amount of followers here, but hopefully you guys will at least see it. I'm very proud of it. ✨ Bel-Yathinn (NPC) is a legendary elven military commander and an appointed ruler of a frontier town Ashen-Thalas on a recently(ish) discovered continent of Borealis. He comes from a long line of warriors, but has a secret soft side, as he dreamed to dedicate himself to art when he was young. If you like my art, consider tipping! MY TIP JARS HERE ❤️‍🩹

[running-with-kn1ves]

My esteemed court... what do we think about modern malewife cirdan? Breakfast in bed, kiss the cook aprons, showing up at your big corporate office unannounced because you forgot your lunch and your goodmorning kiss🙏 .it had started as a marriage for convenience, for business and good communion between the elven and human races, but now it seems he's everywhere you look, turning into a real housewife from the 60s, cooking pot roasts and dressing the part.

[vasiliquemort]

Wine of Sanguinium's Elation

Enlightened enraged dome of firm

A tender ache, design of my volition - volley of a delight and rapture of within, crimson of beau, maroon of longing, is all - charcoal and amber blazed that is adore, all for @zzxya themselves!<з

[fictionfordays]

Flowers

Main Masterlist | Tolkien Masterlist

Maedhros enjoys flowers. So much so that he takes it upon himself to study them, pressing flowers on a page in a special journal with notes written about it.

While he doesn't study herbs the way someone like Tyelkormo would, he does study the edible and medicinal uses of flowers, making it a point to include flowers in some of the pastries he makes. Topping salads with sugared dianthus, tea cakes made with a creamy chamomile tea, mixing lavender with blueberries in a dish similar to a soufflé pancake, even rose and apple scones.

He loves to look at them. He doesn't mind picking enough to make a seasonal crown, or getting his hands dirty in his own personal little garden. He doesn't mind the thorns on the rose bush that seem to always catch his hair, untangling it from the loose braid he put it in earlier. Or the way raspberry thorns snag on his clothes. They can be mended, after all.

If you prick your finger, he'll dote on you: kissing your little scrape with a small smile. He'll affectionately tell you to be kinder to the roses next time so you won't get pricked again~

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Tags: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @eunoiaastralwings @manjirwo @stopisa @wandererindreams

I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2024.

[feyspeaker]

more than a blep, more than a mlem (commission for @/Villanite on birdsite)

[liches-covered-in-lich]

Haven’t drawn in my iPad properly in. Ages. . .

But I decided to take a gander at Erandur! Such a sweet guy

[evssword]

Stolas for @sinthelyss 💜

[bboying]

Glad I'm getting people engaged with my other post. Makes me want to keep posting. Anyways, I've also been getting back into DA:I lately and by the Maker, this dude is the best thing I've ever conceived in my playthroughs

I was aiming for a style that I hope some of you can guess. it starts with a K and ends in BL lmao

[whitegoldtower]

Being vain for a minute

Please I’m begging to be cast as a background elf in a LOTR film. Make me one of Elrond’s sons (I have the forehead for it!), Turgon, Maglor, Haldir’s Gay Lover or Galadriel and Celeborn’s unicorn idgaf

I want in

[punkyzed]

So... My tav had his first sex scene in BG3 and I just can't help it! He and Astarion are so cute and pretty and I'm obsessed with them, I just have to share 😭

[nexusconjunx]

Elves Elves Elves! The uuuuuh power throuple. From left to right, Grawon, Herzadra, Liudari.

I don't think they are ever all getting together for real, but I am working on it. Grawon and Herzadra have been enemies for 5000 years - and Liudari is the young elf (1/8th human) keeping this relationship afloat. He just really likes older elves lol.

[vesprynna]

A while ago I shared some OCs I had simmering in my brain juices after watching OFMD and Pirates of Darkwater again, and... I finally found some names and began writing a bit on their story. It's a work in progress, but I'm having fun world building with them so far ^^

Read on below for some colorful blorbo drabble c:

Randa is a young Sun elf living on a remote island paradise, but despite his idyllic homeland, he keeps gazing out at the ocean, wishing for more. Engrossing himself in tales of daring adventure, exciting seafaring and treasure hunting, his dreams of a life beyond his island rests on the wings of the gulls that fly out to sea. Across the very same ocean, sails a charming and mischievous pirate captain by the name of Baltan. Making friends and foes alike, he and his crew travel far and wide in search of treasure and adventure. Their freedom is highly cherished, and while Baltan feels like he should be satisfied with his lot in life... something still feels like it's missing.

As fate will have it, the two men will cross paths for better or for worse. Will Randa find the freedom he desperately craves, and will Baltan finally discover the treasure he's always been missing? Idk, I guess we'll find out eventually -_(ツ)_/¯

[running-with-kn1ves]

Soooo since you asked for comfy requests, my comfort character of yours is Cirdan, and I would love covering his scars with little kisses and telling him how handsome he is cause I know dude has to be insecure about that and he would combust on spot

I know its cliché but I enjoy simple pleasures

A/N: Naur I love the little(big) elf guy and the softness of this idea. I wish I did it more detailed justice but here's my drabble take. UGHH I LOVEd how sweet it was it makes me all gushy inside.

CW: None! Fluff and comfort all the way through buddy

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“You don’t have to be alone, you know.” Ice-tipped toes of yours brushed the wood panels lining the floor, an electric chill running down your back as the wind from the slightly ajar window perused inside. Your husband always liked it cold, but lately you couldn’t stand it. It was getting too cold outside. Maybe it was because you grew up in suffocatingly warm homes with seasons that hardly shifted, you didn’t have the ability to stand below freezing temperatures like elves did year-round. 

Cirdan gently turned his head at your voice, softening his pursed brow as he saw you there shrinking into yourself, leaning a shoulder against the door frame. It didn’t help that all you had to wear were these thin cotton pajamas, white and hip-fitting to show the color of your skin underneath when put under the right light. It made him gaze at you, when all that illuminated the shared bedroom was muted-orange oil lamps and the shine of the moon decorating the floor in a thin silver. It was strange, to be stared at. There was a certain sadness in the elf’s eyes, but it seemed to morph into a relief when that greyish green bore into you, taking in all that you were, only to run back to your eyes and give the softest stare. 

You walked to him as he gave a short, croaky hum. “Just cleaning these. Already finished up dinner.” He said simply, in that short way he always seemed to speak when he was down. 

You looked over his shoulder to see what he concentrated so painfully on, peering at the delicate pair of battle sickles he hasn’t used since… well, before you got married.

You put a gentle hand on his bare shoulder, musing at the thin and thick pinkish-brown scars along his back. 

“I don’t know how you can wear nothing in this weather.” You say with a shiver, sitting down on the spot directly behind the elf.

You practically heard him smile, head still down-turned to look at the sharp steel between the tan cloth he used to rub against them. Your fingers traced the scars you could touch, the long one crossing over his shoulder, the thick few stuck between the blades of his back, which seemed to twitch methodically under your touch. 

“S’because you aren’t used to the cold. We sleep in the snow.” Cirdan hummed, “we” meaning his old elven clan. 

He grabbed your hand all of a frightful sudden, placing it on the clean and untouched part of his neck not covered by starlight hair or scars. It was so soft and gentle, one of the few places Cirdan had yet to be wounded. 

“Hm?” You let through closed lips, sitting on your knees to bring your face up close to his from behind. “Don’t want me touching your cuts?” 

“Scars,” He corrected, like it was an ugly word. “Wouldn’t you rather feel something soft?”

He turned just slightly to look at you, eyes shifting to see your face only a nose touch away. Your hands rested on his warm shoulders, feeling them lift just slightly as his chest rose. 

“Nope.” You respond, nudging against Cirdan’s temple as you nuzzled into his hair and flattened ear rim. “I’d rather feel you. Wanna memorize every scar and stitch.” 

Your hands slide to his back, feeling the ridges of indents in his skin as they fall. “Mmh, its fun to touch them; you don’t feel like anyone else.” 

You soak in the warm that pulses from his body, a different heat from the sharp sheets and iced floor. He smelled akin to the grassy scent that whaffed in from the window, a slight musk about him that came from his body glazing over with its natural smell after a bath had rubbed it off not long ago. Oh how you loved it, loved how flesh-like it was, reminding you that there was a living, breathing person by your side, his heart beating through his back and his body altering at every new spot you claimed with your fingers. 

Cirdan stopped from cleaning the sickle blades, shoulders hunched as his elbows rested on his knees. He was silent, moping a little over how much you stared, a nagging thought making him want to put his shirt back on. 

You snaked your arms around to the front of his chest, giving the best reach of a back hug that you could, bringing your legs to wrap around his warm flank. Your cold feel seemed to make him jolt as you clung onto him like a baby to its mama, burying your face against the deep indent of his shoulder. 

“But, wouldn’t you rather--” 

“Shh.” You hushed, fingers brushing over the invisible scars from his chest that you could only memorize by touch. “If you keep worrying I’m going to have to kiss each and every scratch on you.” 

You pressed noisy smooches to the teensy bits on his shoulder, running your way to his bicep and armpit, showing no sign of stopping. 

“Alright alright,” He tittered, putting a hand over one of yours that cupped his chest. 

Your fingers rubbed over each single change in flesh, feeling the softer ridges of his nipples, running to the dip of his chest, caressing the deep uneven ‘X’ scar against his collar bone. 

“Don’t ever try to change them for me, pretty boy.” You mumbled to his ear, playfully kissing from its tip down to his cheek. “I want your scars and your bits and pieces just how they are. I want all of it.” 

You rested your smooshed face against his sharp jaw, letting it dig into your cheek as you kept your nose nearly nestled under his chin. 

Cirdan was still, an arm grabbing one of the thighs that wrapped around him, the other entertwining his fingers with the hands that held the fat of his chest. He feared if he moved, the moment would break, that you would suddenly pull away and be gone forever. He wanted desperately to push you deeper against him, to make it so you were both smothered with his warmth, that he enveloped every part of your body to keep it safe. There would be no piece of you undiscovered, and you would fill in the gaps of him that were missing. 

“What do you do to me…” He mumbles, hoping you’ll lift your head as he turns his. You do, curious. But he looks partially down, a faded eye following his good one as silver-toned lashes made his honey-soaked eyes look like they were covered with snow. 

Cirdan doesn’t let the time slip away from him, pressing his warmed lips against yours with an inward tilt. His nose fits snuggly against the side of yours, forehead pushing forward as you lean into him. The elf drops the sickles to the floor, aside from his bare feet. 

He wraps the fullness of his hand around your thigh, trying to smush it deeper against his skin. But the break away from your mouth is too long for him, he moves in again. The longing in his chest he feels, when he senses that desperation to kiss you, a genuine ache of withdrawal when he doesn’t feel that cold cheek against his or the dampened warmth of your tongue. 

But you avoid his lips, slipping away the hand of yours that he held to his chest. You rested it to his temple, thumb against his cheek. As cirdan moved in expecting your lips, he found your chin instead, your own mouth covering the usually hidden eye he kept away. You wished he had the confidence to leave it visible; baby steps. 

The warm wet poke of a tongue darted between fleshy lips against your chin and jaw, your own mouth opening just slightly. You felt the warm cavern of his eye, eyelashes touching your upper lip as your open mouth pressed a deep kiss to his blind eye, Cirdan freezing as you moved. You lingered there for a moment, pausing to give another gently pressing kiss to the scarred skin below his eye. 

You moved away, a bit nervous from how Cirdan’s body was suddenly so stiff. But the moment you moved away, he melted. His shoulders slumped looking up at you with slightly parted lips. He was at your mercy, anything you told him or commanded of him, he’d do without a thought of conscience or hesitation. 

There was a gentle drugged look in his gaze, desperate for any little affection you would so graciously bestow upon him. 

“So beautiful…” You hummed, looking into the droopy pool of smoke-green he stared back with. 

If it was possible, the elf sinked even further into your touch, letting your hands hold his firm cheeks as you planted small kiss after kiss onto the bridge of his nose, to the corner of his stilled lips. But he could not take staying still for so much longer, diving for your moving mouth as you were about to kiss the other side. But he caught you in a smooth mouth to mouth, opened lips begging you to come to him. 

You followed, letting your jaw go slack, allowing cirdan’s mouth to fit snuggly against yours, like a puzzle piece of warm air breathing into you. 

Your fingers tangled into the elf’s hair that seemed to surround him, listening to the needy groans that left his adored mouth as both his hands held your thighs around his flank, flexing his fingers into your skin like a cat, wanting you deeper, closer. But for now, he’d settle for this, letting you agonizingly sweeten him up with each syrupy kiss and touch that was like a buzzing pleasure, making his heart lurch with desire.

[sirielle]

A Wild Elf. Then and... then 😉 Perhaps also one day?

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[the-drow-fucker]

[theeldritchelder]

The indomitable human spirit.