In Terry Pratchett's Discworld elves are a different sort than the ones featured elsewhere in fantasy. They are pointy eared, slight figured, large eyed beings with fancies that are exotic, keeping with traditional elven looks. But in the Discworld they are also the cruelest sort of fiend.
They show up in the book Lords and Ladies, for that is what they are called. The novel is one centered on Granny Weatherwax and the tiny kingdom of Lancre, where in a certain part of the woods is a ring of stones meant to keep closed a place where the world is not necessarily the world and where in midsummer, snow can fall. It is a soft region from which elves can cross over and from there they can begin again their rule and reign of terror.
Pratchett's elves are a reference to faeries, Fae creatures who inhabit another world and are a terrible blight on humans that come under them, much like villagers living under the castle of a vampire lord. They are vile and superior, considering all who are not Fae to be as insects are considered by humans. They are a satirical jab at the fantasy fandom that is in love with elves, because all that they know of elves is that they are beautiful.
They exude an aura of their superiority, a sort of glamour that shames all who see them. What an unprotected human sees looking at an elf is the most beautiful creature they've ever laid their eyes on. They immediately feel shame at being human in the presence of such exquisiteness and will do anything that might make the elf in question feel in some small way less disgusted by their human presence. This happens because elves do not see merely see with their eyes or listen with their ears, they feel the thoughts of those around them and bend those thoughts to their will. They have a literal magnetism, thus their weakness is iron.
For dwarves and trolls, elves are a dangerous nuisance remembered in collective history as an enemy to be dispatched with all speed. They remember because they are immune, because trolls are metallic and dwarves love iron above all things (even gold, they just can't rhyme anything with iron).
The elves in Pratchett's book ride unicorns and shoot knockout poison and jewel tipped arrows. They follow the orders of their immortal queen. And they hunt, everyone. But it always takes them a long time to actually kill.
They say elves are beautiful, but they never say elves are kind.