(Elves are said to never really be under 6’4 and I’m thinking partners under 5’4)
Standing on a table
They find it hilarious and makes it easy to kiss you or pick you up if they want to continue the kiss elsewhere. They think it’s even funnier if you still have to go on your tippy toes.
Glorfindel and Lindir
Picking you up
Loves feeling you this close and making you feel safe. They won’t lie, they love that it means they can grab at your thighs and ass.
Haldir and Thranduil
Crouching down/On their knees
They like meeting you down to your level. If they’re on their knees it makes you both laugh but they love it because it makes them feel like they’re worshipping their sweet little love.
You Slapping their Butt and Calling them “Dummy Thick” in Front of Everyone:
how would the elves react to this?
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Legolas, Meludir, feren, galion, elros version’s are below.
🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼
𖧧 The Fellowship had seen many strange things in their time together, but nothing—nothing—had prepared them for the audacity of what you just did. You stood there, your hand having just smacked the princely posterior of Legolas Greenleaf backside, your voice echoing through the room with an exclamation that would forever haunt (or amuse) the Fellowship “Dummy thick.”
𖧧 Legolas froze as if turned to stone. His bow, usually held with unmatched grace, slipped slightly in his hand. The tips of his ears, often a stoic and noble feature, flushed a delicate pink that crept rapidly down his neck. His sharp eyes darted to you, then to Aragorn, then to everyone else, as if searching for guidance on what to do next. But no help came—Aragorn was covering his mouth, Boromir looked like he was physically restraining a laugh, and the hobbits…well, Merry and Pippin had already collapsed into wheezing fits of laughter. Sam looked scandalized, and Frodo was blinking rapidly, clearly wondering if he had misheard.
𖧧 Legolas blinked at you, his lips parting slightly in shock. Then, as though realizing he was still in the middle of a room full of people, he straightened his posture and said in a voice that was much louder than necessary: “I am unsure what you mean by this… designation.” The attempt at regal composure was there, but it was entirely undermined by the way his voice cracked slightly at the word “designation.”
𖧧 The Fellowship’s Reaction Boromir completely lost his composure, slapping a hand to his knee and laughing so hard that Gimli had to smack him on the back to keep him from choking. Aragorn was trying desperately to stay calm, but even he couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped as he muttered, “Dummy thick? By the Valar…” Gandalf sighed, clearly debating whether or not this moment would be worth recording in the annals of history. The hobbits were no help at all. Merry was doubled over, clutching Pippin, who had tears streaming down his face from laughing too hard. Even Sam, who tried to maintain some sense of decorum, couldn’t help the small, strangled giggle that escaped.
𖧧 Legolas turned to you, his face now composed but his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “Mellon,” he began, carefully measured, “I… I am flattered by your appreciation, but perhaps we could discuss such matters in private?” His attempt at regaining dignity was thoroughly ruined when Gimli snorted and said, “Aye, laddie, flattered, were you? Your face is redder than an orc’s behind in a smithy.”
𖧧 Legolas glared at the dwarf, but his usual sharp retort seemed to fail him. Instead, he looked back at you, his eyes a mixture of exasperation and… something else. Was it amusement? Embarrassment? Curiosity? It was hard to say, but one thing was clear: you had thoroughly thrown the prince off his game.
𖧧 Later, in Private When the two of you were alone, Legolas’ composure finally cracked. He buried his face in his hands and groaned softly. “Why, Mellon? Why would you say such a thing… in front of everyone?”
𖧧 But despite his words, there was no true anger in his voice—just the faintest hint of a laugh. When he finally lowered his hands, his eyes were sparkling with a reluctant, albeit slightly mortified, humor.
𖧧 “I suppose it was… bold of you,” he admitted with a soft sigh. “But next time, perhaps you could warn me before proclaiming such… thoughts in public?”
𖧧 And though his voice was still tinged with embarrassment, you couldn’t miss the small smile that tugged at his lips. He might never live it down, but deep down, some part of him admired your audacity—and maybe even found it endearing.
💛𝓜𝓮𝓵𝓾𝓭𝓲𝓻
𑁍 Meludir, the shy and bubbly young scout of Mirkwood, would be utterly scandalized the moment your hand made contact with his backside. He’d freeze in place, his big doe eyes going impossibly wide, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson that spread all the way to the tips of his pointy ears.
𑁍 “W-what—?!” he’d stammer, his voice cracking slightly in sheer mortification. The room would erupt into stunned silence, the other elves pausing mid-conversation or activity to stare at the two of you. Several of his fellow scouts would exchange bewildered glances, while a few bolder ones might stifle laughter behind their hands. Somewhere in the crowd, a mischievous elf would mutter, “Dummy thick?” under their breath, setting off a chain of poorly suppressed giggles.
𑁍 Meludir, meanwhile, would be too overwhelmed to process any of it. His hands would flap helplessly at his sides as he spun to face you, his expression a chaotic mix of disbelief, embarrassment, and outright panic. “Y-you can’t just say that! Or—or do that! In front of everyone!” he’d squeak, his voice pitching higher with each word. His gaze would dart around the room, as if searching for a way to escape the situation without further humiliation.
𑁍 Despite his mortification, there’d be a flicker of confusion in his wide eyes, as if wondering, Did they mean it? Am I…?”If Thranduil or another superior were present, Meludir’s distress would only deepen, his hands shooting up to his face to cover his burning cheeks. “I—I think I need to go scout something! Right now! Immediately!” he’d blurt, trying to flee the room with all the grace of a startled deer.
𑁍 But, of course, being Meludir, he’d probably trip over his own feet or run into a doorframe on his way out, adding another layer of mortification to his plight. Later, after he’d had time to calm down, he’d likely find you and glare at you with all the intensity his soft features could muster (not much).
𑁍 “Why would you do that to me? In front of everyone!” he’d whine, puffing out his cheeks in a pout. “That was so mean!” He’d pause, biting his lip before adding shyly, “But… do you really think I’m… you know…?” His voice would drop to a whisper. “…Dummy thick?” It would take a while to live down the incident, but deep down, Meludir would secretly appreciate your playful affection—though he’d be sure to check over his shoulder any time he heard you coming, just in case.
🤎𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷
➷ Feren, ever the dutiful and disciplined captain of the Mirkwood Guard, would completely short-circuit at your audacious display. The slap would echo through the training grounds, the sound drawing the attention of every guard under his command, sparking a wave of silence. His entire body would go rigid, his tall frame frozen in disbelief, the tips of his ears turning a telltale shade of red.
➷ His dark eyes, wide with shock, would dart toward you, his lips slightly parted as though searching for the words to respond—but none would come. For someone as eloquent as Feren, the sheer scandal of being referred to as “dummy thick” in public would leave him utterly speechless. His comrades, meanwhile, would exchange uncertain glances, unsure whether to intervene or laugh. A few braver ones might let a snicker slip before quickly stifling it.
➷ If Thranduil or other dignitaries were present, Feren would die a thousand deaths in that moment. He’d immediately bow his head, mortified, attempting to salvage what little of his dignity remained. If he could, he’d likely bark a command to dismiss the gathering of elves, all while refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.
➷ Once the crowd dispersed, Feren would turn to you, his hands balled into fists at his sides—not out of anger, but sheer embarrassment. His voice, normally steady and commanding, would falter slightly as he addressed you. “Mellon” he’d say, his tone a mix of exasperation and bewilderment. “Do you… realize what you’ve just done?”
➷ His shy nature would make it almost impossible for him to directly confront the “dummy thick” comment, but the slap would linger in his mind. He’d glance around to ensure no one else could hear before stepping closer, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper. “Was that… truly necessary? In front of everyone?” His face would still be flushed, and though his words seemed stern, there’d be a flicker of something softer in his expression—an embarrassed fondness for your boldness.
➷ If you laughed or teased him further, Feren would sigh deeply, running a hand over his face as if trying to compose himself. But he couldn’t stay irritated for long. His shy nature would resurface as he looked away, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You are going to be the end of me,” he’d mutter under his breath, though there’d be no real anger in his tone. Later, in private, he might even laugh to himself, shaking his head in disbelief that you managed to catch him so off-guard.
➷ When you were alone together, Feren would still be blushing, but he’d finally relax enough to address the situation. He’d sit beside you, his demeanor more composed but his ears still a little red. “You really have no sense of restraint, do you?” he’d ask, his tone tinged with reluctant amusement. “I’m lucky Thranduil didn’t witness that… or I’d never hear the end of it.”
➷ If you teased him further or apologized sweetly, he’d shake his head, a soft chuckle escaping him despite himself. Leaning closer, he’d let his guard down completely, brushing a hand against yours. “You make my life… interesting,” he’d admit, his voice low and affectionate. “Though, next time, perhaps you could be a little less bold. My pride might not survive it.”
🧡𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓼
ꄗ Elros would freeze mid-action, the keyring in his hand jangling faintly as silence descended upon the dungeons. The other guards would gape, their faces ranging from shock to barely-concealed laughter. Elros, the steadfast and disciplined captain, was not accustomed to being the target of such… unconventional attention, let alone in front of his subordinates.
ꄗ His face would turn a bright shade of red, and for a moment, he’d struggle to compose himself, torn between his natural sense of duty and the utterly baffling situation unfolding. His gaze would snap to you, wide-eyed, and his voice would come out in a stammer. “M-Mellon—what are you doing?!”
ꄗ The guards, no longer able to contain themselves, would likely burst into laughter or hurriedly excuse themselves to avoid Elros’s mortified wrath. Elros would whirl around, glaring daggers at his comrades as they retreated, leaving him alone with you.
ꄗ Once the others had dispersed, Elros would fix you with a look somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. He’d cross his arms over his chest, still blushing furiously. “You have some nerve, don’t you?” he’d mutter, though there’s a flicker of amusement behind his indignation. “Dummy thick? Is that how you choose to address me—in front of the guards?”
ꄗ Despite his scolding tone, there’s a clear note of flustered warmth. While Elros is a disciplined and responsible figure, he’s also deeply forgiving and good-natured, especially toward someone he holds dear. “Do you have any idea how much I’ll hear about this later?” he’d say with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. But then, his expression would soften, and he’d step closer, his voice dropping to a gentler tone. “Just—don’t pull a stunt like that when I’m on duty, alright? I’ll let it slide this time, but only because it’s you.”
ꄗ When he’s alone, Elros would sit in his quarters, still red in the face as he replayed the incident in his mind. Despite himself, a small chuckle would escape his lips as he muttered under his breath: “Dummy thick… What in Arda possessed you to come up with that?” Though flustered, he’d also be secretly pleased by your boldness and the lightheartedness you bring to his otherwise serious role. Deep down, he’d admire your audacity, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.
ꄗ Elros might even let a smirk creep across his face the next time he sees you, though he’d shake his head as if to scold you again: “You’re lucky I’ve a soft spot for you, mellon. Just—try not to make me the talk of the Woodland Realm next time, alright?”
❤️𝓖𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓸𝓷
𖦹 The room is lively with the sound of clinking goblets and quiet conversations. Galion, in his usual laid-back manner, is strolling through the hall, holding a glass of Thranduil’s finest vintage when it happens. Your hand connects with his backside in a resonant smack that echoes throughout the hall. The words “dummy thick” tumble from your lips with unrestrained boldness.
𖦹 For a moment, Galion freezes, wine glass poised mid-air, as though his brain is struggling to process the audacity of what just transpired. Slowly, he turns to look at you, his expression a delightful cocktail of astonishment, mild affront, and a flicker of amusement he can’t quite hide. “Dummy thick, you say?” he repeats, his tone low and laced with incredulous humor. His eyebrows rise as if to silently ask, “Did you really just do that?”
𖦹 The other elves, initially stunned into silence, exchange a mix of horrified and amused glances. A few stifled chuckles escape from the more free-spirited among them. Someone mutters, “By the stars…” Galion recovers quickly, his easygoing nature saving him from the sheer embarrassment that might have overwhelmed another elf in his position. With a casual yet pointed gesture, he takes a long sip of wine, clearly weighing his response. Finally, he leans closer to you, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
𖦹 “If you must grope me, meleth, at least make sure I’ve had a full glass of wine beforehand,” he quips with a sly grin, his eyes twinkling with mischievous mirth. As the initial shock fades, Galion adopts a playful tone, more amused than offended. Turning to the rest of the room, he raises his glass in a mock toast, his carefree demeanor diffusing much of the tension. “To bold declarations and even bolder actions,” he says smoothly, shooting you a glance that’s equal parts exasperated and entertained.
𖦹 In Private Later, when the crowd has dispersed and it’s just the two of you, Galion confronts you again—though “confront” might be too strong a word for his gentle chiding. “You’ve quite the nerve, calling me such names in front of everyone,” he remarks, though there’s no true malice in his tone. “Do you know how long it’s going to take me to live that down?”
𖦹 His smirk, however, betrays him. “Still… I suppose it’s flattering, in a peculiar way. Dummy thick, hmm? Perhaps I’ll add it to my titles. ‘Galion, Keeper of Wine and Bearer of Thickness.’ What do you think?”
𖦹 Galion’s easygoing charm ensures that he’d ultimately laugh it off, but he wouldn’t let you forget your daring act for a long while, teasing you at every opportunity. And perhaps, just perhaps, he’d find a way to return the favor when you least expect it.
I’m working on other elven characters like haldir, Gil-galad, círdan.
Oropher's kisses are firm and confident, his lips melding with yours in a controlled and calculating manner. His hand comes to rest under your hair and at the nape of your neck so he can draw you in closer. He tastes lightly of sugar and peaches, and his lips are petal soft against yours despite their firmness.
Thranduil
Thranduil's lips press to yours with fervor and passion, his tongue slipping into your mouth, curling around yours. He is demanding and domineering, and tastes of the finest Dorwinion wine- sweet and bitter. His hand holds your chin firmly in place as he kisses you, demanding you in full and to only be distracted by him.
Legolas
Legolas' kisses are tender and sweet, his lips always moving feather like against yours. Always so gentle and careful as he holds your face, thumbs lovingly stroking your cheeks, his lips pressing softly into yours. He takes his time to kiss you, wanting to savor the way you feel against him.
Meludir
Meludir's kisses always have an air of playfulness to them, his lips pressing against yours lightly and then firmly. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip to pull soft gasps and giggles from you, he's always smiling into the kiss and his hands rest on your hips. Pulling you into him and swaying along with you.
Feren
He may come off as dutiful and maybe even a little stern but when it comes to kissing you, Feren makes sure to take his sweet time especially if you two are in private. He's not afraid to kiss you sweetly, slowly melding his lips against yours, making sure to be gentle and make sure you know that he loves you.
Yes, I do indeed know him. A fine scout of Mirkwood, dedicated to his duty, swift of foot, and (most tragically) sworn to the service of King Thranduil.
He is also a most unfortunate member of our rather chaotic assistants’ group chat, a place of great suffering and camaraderie where we—those who keep the realms running while our lords and ladies brood dramatically in their towers—gather to share grievances, seek counsel, and despair collectively.
I must say, I do not envy his post.
One must possess either an iron will or the patience of Yavanna herself to endure the whims of both the Elvenking and his charming menace of a son. Meludir has both, and yet, I still suspect he lies awake at night questioning his life choices.
That being said, he is a good sort—loyal, sharp, and an excellent friend to Eredin, which earns him my begrudging approval. And most importantly, he is a fellow appreciator of chocolate, which means there is wisdom to be found among Thranduil’s ranks after all. A rare find, truly.
Describes it as “Thunder on the wind but with no clouds in sight.” Or “Thunderous roar of noise and echo. And dragon fire.” He is weary of it and distrustful. Mostly concerned with finding ways of defending against it.
Elrond
Slack jawed horror on his face. As a healer this is his literal worst nightmare wrapped up in a pretty black bow. It might be best if you briefly inform him of armor-piercing bullets and energy weapons that burn literal holes in people. Examples like Ronon’s gun or Goa’uld staff weapons. While weapons like that could be considered similar to dragon fire. The idea of wraith stunners and Goa’uld zat’nik’tels (zats) will both alarm him but also put him at ease. Knowing that not every weapon of your world is meant to cause as much damage as humanly possible. Though the zats ability to stun with the first shot, kill with the second and completely disintegrate the body on the third where there is literally nothing left. Adds to his PTSD and gives him many more sleepless nights and nightmares then he already had. Though he isn’t forgetting the fact that if the men of your world fight with these weapons against their enemies it isn’t too much of a stretch to say that they fight amongst themselves with the same weapons. Therefore if men from your world were to cross over and chose to wage war against the elves and other known peoples of the world there would be heavy losses.
Glorfindel
Lets not vibes *uneasy smile* He doesn’t like it. Mostly because the loud roar the gun makes reminds him (slightly) of the Balrogs/dragons that attacked Gondolin. So, it mostly brings up bad memories.
Bilbo
Absolutely not. The living (polite) embodiment of “get that thing back where it came from or so help me!”
Gandalf
Neutral: “Hmm, it is a formidable weapon.” He stroked his beard in thought, “It is unfortunate that such a weapon exists and I am quite glad that it is not of this world.” (He has the “Just don’t use it often or near me" vibes. And when explaining the gun to him and about the wraith and other threats of your world. Gandalf has a knowing look in his eye that tells you that despite you not telling him about the original purpose of the weapon, he knows that its likely that the men of your world fight and kill with the same weapons and that the purpose was not for the wraith and other enemies, much like Elrond.)
Erestor
Glares from a distance. He is 10/10 the most judgmental of the weapon out of all the elves. His first and only thought is how the weapon was probably being used for men against men conflicts. And since men fighting against each other isn’t uncommon it was usually understood that they’d have each other's back when defending themselves from Sauron like Rohan coming to aid Gondor. Though there was a time where men had problems with food, disease and starvation and had turned on each other. So he takes it as an example of the weakness of man, the weak will of man or the overall frail nature of men.
Lindir
*Faints* Has nightmares. More anxiety. And looks toward Elrond with an incredibly worried expression on his face. When he considers all the possibilities and worst case scenarios he can’t really handle it. And he rationalized it to himself by saying that he trusts Elrond’s judgment and will follow his lead.
Elrohir
*Winces* It is an interesting make, noise aside, I wonder . . . What went through the creators mind? . . Why would someone have need of such a weapon? What enemy could be so fierce that such an extreme weapon had to be made? (Considering that the original purpose for the weapon was to kill other humans it would probably be best if you only mention the wraith killing part. As the notion that the same weapons were being used against other men doesn’t really cross his mind.)
Elladan
He is drawn to it and is curious but doesn't want to use it. He is the most open minded about it and laughs at the offer of firing it. He lifts his sword and says he would rather stick with what he knows but he thanks you for the offer. He doesn’t think much about its purpose: who, what, when, where and why doesn’t cross his mind. He just thinks it's cool human ingenuity.
Arwen
She is scared of it and rightfully so. She does mention though that you should refrain from firing the weapon around elven ears. As she herself does not enjoy listening to the ringing of her ears. Because elven ears are highly sensitive and can hear a great deal more than the average man.
Thranduil
Considering you probably meet this elf while either being attacked by spiders or simply captured with the rest of the dwarven party and being lost in the darkest forest you’ve seen in your life. You probably don’t get many opportunities to actually demonstrate the P90s firing ability or any of your other gear. Though when explaining what your strange weapon does and about other weapons like Ronon’s or Goa’uld zats be prepared to find a very protective, angry and concerned elf. He will most likely interrogate you about all the possible weapons, enemies, and different ways of defending from such weapons in the hopes of defendings his people. Considering that's actually very reasonable and how you (probably) don’t want to spend the rest of your life stuck in jail, I don't see why you wouldn’t share such information. Thranduil doesn’t trust you though, as you are from another world and could have brought new, strange and (possibly) stronger enemies to Arda.
Legolas
He doesn’t like it. But when you explain the wraith and other enemies to him (keeping the original purpose of the gun from him) he understands the need for having such powerful weapons and wishes you luck in defending your people. He later tries to help you return home but with little luck. When the two of you become friends he will offer you a place amongst his people and promises that his father, the King, won’t try to have you jailed or killed. You don’t really believe him.
Feren
Your presence in Mirkwood disturbs him and with the kinds of weapons described to him. He is on high alert. He questions you constantly day in and day out about weapons and defense methods. In the middle of the night even! He's possibly even more persistent about it than Thranduil. While on one hand he can sympathize with you about the enemies you face in your world but on the other hand he is more concerned about you having brought those enemies with you.
Meludir
Poor thing. He has such a fear of the weapons you tell him about. However, he puffs up his chest with courage and says if his king asks him to fight he would.
