#finno

[pumkin-patchwork]

Fingon, son of Fingolfin and High Prince of the Noldor

redraw of an old paper doodle from 2022

[the-mysterious-stranger]

preferred Fingon nickname?

Finno

Finnu

Cáno

Káno (like Maglor’s!)

[other, I’ll tell you in the notes]

[idk just show me results]

Voting ended onMar 19

just noticed that Fingon's nickname has some slight variations in this fandom (because I don't believe he was given a canon one yeah?) and was curious as to everyone's preferences, that's all

(as always I’d love to hear anyone’s reasoning if you so wish to provide it!)

[papita474]

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!

Without the tail and "clothes" below <3

@peasant-player finally done >:)

[tinwe-the-local-assassin]

Love You To The Moon And Back...

Fingon and Celegorm were childhood playmates and rivals of Maedhros' affection.

Being close in age (with Fingon just a couple of years older than Celegorm), these two became fast friends due to the circumstances more than anything. But they were also rivals in proving to be Maedhros' favorite, who was the sneakier one, and who could run to the fountain in the heart of the palace the fastest.

And naturally, these discussions turned to arguments faster than anticipated, because they were their fathers' sons, and neither would back down from their own claims.

Whenever these fights came to pass, Maedhros would take them both by their hands, lead them somewhere quiet, and forced them to hug and repeat a phrase until they were laughing and meant it.

"Love you from Laurelin's blooming to Telperion's waning..." These two would repeat over and over, until both were giggling messes, clinging to each other for support. A true embrace of friends and brothers.

They grew up, and this phrase became an inside joke. They would write it under each letter they sent each other, but after bragging about the adventures they each had, still keeping true their competitive nature.

They would embrace each other and whisper it whenever one was to go away for a while, a blessing of fortune and prayer of safety.

And when Fëanor brandished his blade against Fingolfin and got banished alongside his sons, Fingon snuck into Celegorm's room as he packed his things for a likely permanent trip to Formenos, and slipped his own favorite archer ring (the trophy he had once won against Celegorm himself) into his hand with a promise. Love you from Laurelin's blooming to Telperion's waning.

A promise that even then, nothing had changed between them. Their fathers' relationship might have gone beyond salvation, but they still were the same. Even though neither of them believed it, that sentence soothed some of Celegorm's bitterness over abandoning all of his life, his mother and his friends in Tirion. He still had a place there, even if it was just Fingon who was holding it for him.

Years went by, with the flow of letters from Tirion to Formenos dwindling just as Fëanor's paranoia heightened to the point of madness. The ring, among other things, became Celegorm's saving grace. He kept it alongside his Atar's necklace and a copper lock from his mother's auburn head in a pouch hidden in his room, and so it was spared the sack while his royal jewelry hadn't.

The trees died. The King was dead, and now both of them were bowing to this new king who had plans of leading them to the place they always wished to see as children. Middle Earth.

They were grieved over the circumstances of their flight, but neither could push down the feeling of excitement over this new opportunity for exploring the world they had only heard words about by their elders.

And yet, the price was a heavy one. One they both paid dearly for later in life.

---

In Losgar, the ships burned, and Celegorm regretted. Not following his Lord and Father's orders, no, but what repercussions it had. Fingon and little Íri where stranded on the other side, with no ways to follow them now.

And he regretted as he poured oil upon those white wooden carving and set flames upon them.

But the feeling did not last long. Their father was dead, their eldest captured and Celegorm wished him dead only to not have to imagine what he was going through, and all the while, he felt relief.

Their cousins were left behind, and they were safe. Aredhel was safe. Sweet Finrod and his rowdy, innocent brothers were safe. Little Arakáno was safe.

Fingon was safe. His archer ring would glare at him under the light of the torches, and Celegorm would offer it soothing words to cover his own betrayal. He is safe, he would tell the little thing. He wouldn't like it here.

Because Fingon was not a killer. Not like Celegorm was. Middle Earth was not at all like they had imagined, and maybe there were both fools to not have seen it coming.

The host of Fingolfin arrive, and Fingon with them.

Celegorm saw the dangerous glint in his eyes, and found no sign of the once cheerful ellon in him. He'd seen death like he had. He had killed like he had, and he had not been safe.

Fingon returns with Maedhros, and Celegorm's envy resurfaced from under his grief and gratitude. It was unbecoming, and he could not help it. Fingon had become Maedhros' favorite after all, and Celegorm had lost once again. He returned the ring because he had no other trophy to offer. Fingon understood and accepted his defeat, even though he didn't feel like he had won anything.

Years passed, the grudges got buried, and relationships healed. So did theirs, as they saved each other's lives again and again, and regained the bond of brotherhood and comradery they once had.

Fingon brought it up first. Their catch phrase was not long lasting. The trees where destroyed. Laurelin didn't bloom anymore, and there was no Telperion to wane.

So Celegorm said, love you to the moon and back. Fingon looked at him and laughed, and Celegorm could see the little elfling he used to tower over even as he was younger in years, and smiled.

The Dragon roared, the balrogs stomped upon the fields he himself had grown into fruition, and Celegorm found himself in Nargothrond of all places. And so far he was from the north, and news he received late.

The King was dead. Long live the King.

Expect that he was not a king. He was a little boy with golden ribbons woven into his brown hair and eyes which shone like stars whenever he laughed.

The boy didn't laugh anymore. He was an orphan like Celegorm now, and the burden of thousands of lives on his thin shoulders.

Celegorm did not say much in the letter he sent him.

Love you to the moon and back, Finno.

-Tyelkormo Fëanorion.

His brief letter went unanswered, until the day they met on the battlefield before what would become known as Unnumbered Tears.

He was pulled into the arms of a man with shining armour and a dim but real smile. He wore no crown but those of his ribbons and simple gold jewelry, and no one could claim he did not look the King he was.

Love you to the moon and back, he whispered in his ear, and Celegorm embraced him back as fiercely.

They parted with smiles, hiding the nerves under flashes of teeth and warrior cries, and later, when Celegorm found that ring cover in blood and mangled flash, a lonely finger and no body in sight, he shed no tears.

He took the ring, held it to his chest, and whispered:

Love you to the moon and back.

This time, he heard no response.

[lumosinlove]

Day Two:

On the second day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, a bit of Breakaway!

Logan wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous. These things were mostly locked in before they had even happened. In the higher picks, it was a formality of calling out the name, a bit of tape to keep for your children, the good feeling of getting to walk up onto the NHL draft stage on shaky legs, slip a new jersey over your head and put the hat on with the new logo on it, your team logo. Logan had always, when thinking about getting drafted, been happy there was a hat to put on. A bit of shade from the cameras, something to duck behind for a little relief. A place to take a breath.

He’d said so to Noelle once. She’d just made a face. “If that’s how you feel, what do you wear yours backwards for? Silly, Lolo.”

Logan reached up to take his hat off, push his hair back, and put it back on again. It was more just the feeling of having something. Something to draw attention to other than himself. But this wasn’t about him. Not just now.

Not when the camera kept finding Finn’s face, Alex and his parents sitting beside him in the huge auditorium, to fill Logan’s parents’ large TV in the living room.

“What do they call Harzy’s brother again?” Noelle asked from beside him, reaching into the bag Logan was holding in his lap for another chip. “Not Harzy, too, right?”

“Non. Hazard.”

“Huh. That’s a hot pair of brother’s right there.”

Logan reached into the bag himself, letting the loud crinkle and the crunch of a handful of chips answer for him. “He wore the blue.”

“Huh?”

Logan shrugged. “He was deciding which suit. Alex liked the gray one.”

Noelle took another chip. “Which did you like?” When Logan didn’t answer for a moment, to intent on watching Alex whisper something to Finn, making Finn tilt his head back and laugh before the camera cut away, she nudged him.

“Hm? Oh, le bleu.”

“Hm,” Noelle said. “Looks good.”

Logan put another chip into his mouth.

They didn’t have to wait long for Finn’s name to be called. It was a blur for Logan, mostly. Flashes of Finn’s familiar face while he sat in his seat, the harsh lights making his freckles look starker. Logan’s eyes caught on the way he was rubbing his palms together, nervously, the way Alex was sitting in the exact same position, talking softly to him—distracting him, most likely. But Logan knew he was right. These things were mostly locked in before they actually happened. And Finn was Finn. He was pure talent, pure charm, and anyone would be crazy not to take him for their own.

Pure fucking insane not to do that if given the chance.

The Gryffindor Lions were on the stage now, a couple of men, leaning into the microphone and waiting for the buzz from the last pick to die down. Finally, they spoke.

“The Gryffindor Lions are proud to select, from Harvard University, Finn O’Hara.”

Logan leapt up with a shout, again, like he hadn’t known—and he had—but he leapt up anyway. He didn’t hear them repeat it in French. The chips were on the floor, probably spilled in a way that would crush fragments into the carpet to be licked up by one of the cats later, but he didn’t care. He’d known, anyone’d be crazy not to want Finn, and there he was, getting up, getting a hard hug from Alex, then his parents. Walking down from his seat in his easy, smiling sort of way. Getting up on the stage, shaking hands, pushing his hair back a little before putting on the jersey, then the hat—brim just high enough so that his face was still visible, brown eyes bright and happy. Logan watched him smile for the picture.

In his pocket, Logan’s phone was buzzing like crazy—the group chat, probably. But then Finn was walking off, his profile, even in the harsh shadows and highlights of the stage lights, so achingly familiar. Something Logan felt like he’d always just been able to turn his head to one side and see. Straight nose, a little pointed, full mouth. Smiling to himself just now, jogging down the stage steps, then at the woman waiting to interview him.

He looked good in the red and gold. It warmed to his hair color, to his flushed cheeks, complimented the easy way he had his hands in his pockets, like he’d been born to be put in front of the camera. Tall and broad, and he looked so happy that Logan felt it in his own chest.

“How does it feel, Finn?” the woman asked.

“Oh man,” Finn said, and Logan couldn’t help but laugh out loud, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. It was such a Finn thing to say. He’d give him shit for it later. “This is so amazing. The Lions are a great organization and, uh, you know, Sirius Black and everything, I just—I’ve always loved the way their lines mesh. Can’t wait to see where I can fit in and put the work in.”

The woman smiled, nodding. “I’m sure they feel the same. But you’re going back to finish up your final season at Harvard first, do you think your teammates are watching tonight?”

Finn laughed. “Uh, I can currently feel the group chat going crazy in my back pocket, so, yeah, I’d say they’re watching.” Finn glanced at the camera, right at Logan, just for a moment. Logan’s breathing caught in his chest. “Their support means everything. Makes this night extra special.”

“Thanks, Finn, and congratulations.”

He was ushered away just as quickly as he had been ushered on, the show moving on, but Logan was still reeling. Finn had just looked at the camera, for the team, but Logan felt like—like maybe—

“That’s amazing for him,” Noelle said, and Logan jumped a little.

He’d forgotten anyone else was in the room.

“Ouais,” Logan said, almost a little embarrassed. He’d just been grinning stupidly at the television. “Yeah, I—”

And then his phone began to ring. Logan didn’t really have the energy to pretend like he didn’t race to answer it. “Uh—hold on, it’s him,” he said to Noelle, and all but tore out of the room. He meant to go to his own bedroom, but he lost his willpower to wait as soon as he made it to the far end of the hallway.

“Harzy—” Logan felt out of breath, panting into the phone. “Oh my God. Finn.”

It was loud where Finn was, but all Logan cared about was his free, disbelieving laugh. “I know, I—can’t believe it. Did you see? Did you watch?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I watched. Saw your interview. I’m so—” Logan pressed his hands over his eyes. Why the hell was he going to cry? “Fucking amazing, I’m so happy. I’m so proud of you.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment. Logan just listened to the music and voices in the background, his soft breathing on the other end of the line.

“Finn?” he asked eventually.

There was a rustle, like he was holding the phone closer. “Say it again.”

Logan bit his lip, pressed a hand to the wall beside him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s all that matters,” Finn said back, and Logan leaned entirely into the wall, temple against the coolness of it.

“Non, it’s all you tonight. D’accord?”

Finn laughed. “Yeah…Hey, I gotta do some photos and stuff. Just wanted to hear your—to say hi.”

“Ouais. Yeah, go, go.”

“But see you in a couple days. Right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” Finn let out a breath, another laugh. “Good. Good, I can’t wait.”

Logan laughed, too. “It’s only been, like, two weeks.”

“Yeah, well…” Finn sounded like he was smiling. “I can’t wait.”

Logan’s heart pulled tight. “Me too.”

“Okay,” Finn said. “Okay—will you—I mean, I’ll be here, then I’m getting dinner with Al and the family but like—tonight I’ll be probably awake? Like just adrenaline and stuff, so…”

“Call me whenever you want. I’ll be awake.”

“Yeah.” Finn let out a breath that sounded relieved. Maybe pleased. “Okay. Okay, bye, Lo.”

Bye, Lo. Why it sounded so sweet to his ears, Logan didn’t know, but it made him hold the phone closer. Why it made him want to cry, he didn’t know. “Bye.”

He was still looking down at his phone, long-hung-up, when Noelle came looking for him. She leaned against the wall beside him.

“Hi. How is he? Good?”

Logan nodded. “Really happy.”

“How are you?”

The emotion was still welled in his throat, and he knew Noelle could tell. Noelle could always tell.

Logan nodded, shrugged a little, because he wasn’t sure he could speak without giving himself away entirely. How was he? He wanted to be back in New York, with just Finn, in his apartment. Empty air mattress on the floor, not daring to speak about it but—and Finn had let Logan turn away but he’d also locked his arms around his waist and held him, chest against Logan’s back, like they had during his concussion (those terrible, terrible nights). Only, those in New York had been the very best of nights. And now Logan was running out of time that he never had. Finn would be in Gryffindor and Logan would be…

“Lo…” Noelle turned towards him, and when Logan made to push off the wall and walk away, she put a gentle hand against his arm, catching him. He could have shaken her off, easy. He could leave right now. Instead, he let her keep him there. Her hold was gentle, her other hand coming to his shoulder, chin pressed over it, something like a half-hug. “Lolo, no, hey, just—hold on.” She dropped a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “Hold on, okay?”

Logan wanted to be back in Nice. Do you want me? And the cool ocean floor.

Noelle took a steadying breath. Logan could just see her messy bun out of the corner of his eye, her honest green eyes, knowing him so well, too well, and letting him hold himself still. “Logan, I…It’s—it’d be okay if—”

Logan just kept his eyes down, heart pounding harder by the minute.

Noelle held him tighter. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? Anything. I love you.”

“Noelle,” Logan said through grit teeth. Logan suddenly wanted nothing more than to still be smaller than her. He wanted to tuck himself away. But he couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

“Finn’s—amazing. Finn’s so wonderful. He’s so wonderful to you. That’s all that matters, we all love him so much because…because he really—because you mean so much to him.”

Logan gave his head a small shake. He realized the socks he was wearing were Finn’s.

“You don’t smile like that with anyone else,” Noelle said softly, then rested her head against his shoulder, looking down too. “Not even us.”

Logan let out a slow breath, sort of jerking towards Noelle, then stopping himself. He pressed his hand over his eyes again, pinching at his nose. He could feel how tightly he was holding himself still, like maybe if he didn’t move, it would all just leave him alone.

“Logan,” Noelle whispered, hand looping around his arm. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Logan just turned into her, stooping down to press his face into her neck, arms tight around her waist. Noelle rubbed the back of his neck gently, like she had when he was small and the fear of storms had been worse, fueled by not yet having the ability to recognize that it was just weather.

Maybe Logan had been hoping the same would happen with everything else that scared him to shaking, as he was now, in his sister’s arms. He wished it would all turn out to be passing weather.

“Shh, Lolo, you’re okay.” Noelle pressed a kiss to his cheek without pulling away. “I love you so much. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Logan just pressed against her harder, and Noelle laughed softly, maybe a little teary.

“You’re not five anymore, Lolo, you’re gonna knock me right over.”

“Sorry,” Logan whispered, but didn’t let up.

“Don’t be.” Noelle squeezed him tighter, too. “Don’t be, I love it.”

Logan was dimly aware of the sound of the TV on downstairs in the den, where the others were watching something. Noelle had been the only one who’d said she’d watch with Logan, even though Logan had told her she didn’t have to. Part of him had even maybe wanted to watch alone—only, that wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t true at all, Logan realized, as he let Noelle rock them a little from side to side.

“Nolly,” Sydney’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. “Lobear, we’re starting a new episode, if you’re done up there!”

“Okay!” Noelle called back, sounding a little annoyed to have been interrupted. “Yeah, one sec!”

“We’ll start it without you!”

“I said okay!” Noelle shouted back.

“Okay, merde, calm down.” Sydney grumbled as she retreated.

Logan pulled away slowly, ducking away so she couldn’t see the few tears that had fallen. But she took his face in her hands and wiped them away with her thumbs instead, then pushed up on her toes to kiss his forehead.

“Did you two…” She hesitated. “I mean, have you talked about it?”

Logan didn’t even know how to answer that. Do you want me? Say something. Anything, Lo, please. I feel alone out here.

Logan just looked at her, as if willing her to understand. She seemed to, at least a little, because her soothing had was at his shoulders again, lulling him a little.

“D’accord,” she said. “Well…If you’re worried he doesn’t want you like that, then I have to tell you how much I think he does—”

“I know,” Logan managed to say. “I know that.”

Noelle shook her head. “Then…”

“We can’t.” Logan swallowed. “We can’t. Because we’re—this is—we can’t.”

Noelle’s eyes went unbearably sad. “Oh, Lo. No, Bear, that’s not—that isn’t true.”

Logan just looked down, brow pinching. Noelle cupped his jaw.

“Logan, that isn’t true.” Her voice was fierce. “You mean because of hockey? Because you’re both boys?”

“Shh,” Logan said weakly.

“We’re all alone in our house, no one can hear us.”

Logan felt the tears again. “He’s in the NHL now. A rookie. That’s the biggest spotlight there is.”

Noelle kept Logan’s eyes on her. “Logan. Don’t ever think—I mean, I know there are assholes out there. Fuck, of course there are, but you have to give yourself what you want. It’s not hurting anyone, you have to allow yourself—”

“I—Non.” Logan’s voice broke, and he realized he was gripping the material of her sweatshirt hard. “I would ruin everything for him.”

Noelle stilled at that. “Logan…”

“I would.”

Noelle was still shaking her head, eyes wide. “How long have you two…”

Logan just let the tears come, then. Felt them pull at his lungs. “The beginning. I mean, not—but since…Noelle, merde, don’t make me say—”

“Oh my God,” Noelle breathed, and pulled him back in again, their cheeks together. “Oh…”

Logan heard himself choke back a sob as he let himself fall into her. “Noelle…”

“It’s okay,” Noelle said. “Just come here.”

“I can’t,” Logan whispered, hoping to God no one came up the stairs. He was getting her sweatshirt all wet, just like he had when he was little. The storm, Nolly, the thunder, I don’t like it. It’s going to come inside, Nolly. He clutched her tighter. It was all inside him. I’m so proud of you. Say it again.

Noelle squeezed him tighter. “You’re just—you’re my little baby brother. I don’t care how big you get, you’re mine and—” She was crying now, too. “And I hate seeing you like this. I want you to be happy and—and you’re happy with him. You’re so happy when you call me from school sometimes, but then other times you’re—I don’t know. I knew something was wrong, I could hear it, but I couldn’t figure it out…and now I just…God, come here.”

Logan wouldn't let himself cry for too long. The others would wonder where they went. But, just for now, just for one more minute, he would.

~

Not for the first time, Logan wished that he and Finn still shared a room. It was nice having privacy, and it wasn’t a good idea for them to be in the same room that much anyway because—because these summers had been—

But that didn’t mean Logan didn’t want to be laying in his bed just across from Finn’s right now, waiting for him to open the door, rumpled from the plane, and so happy. The Gryffindor Lions. An NHL fucking team.

Being in the room he had now did have its perks, though. It meant he could see Finn’s car pull into OKN’s driveway, headlights flashing bright in his window before turning off. It meant he could watch Finn’s silhouette get out, pop the trunk for his bag, and then chirp the lock—loud in the night—and start for the front door. Logan tried to keep his movements slow as he opened his own door and stepped into the third floor hallway. He could hear the jingle of Silver’s collar going all the way down the stairs from Percy’s room below him to greet Finn, and Finn’s whispered kissy noises, his soft voice.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, go get a drink. Good girl. Good girl.”

And then the sound of Finn beginning to climb the stairs as Silver went for a drink in her kitchen bowl.

Logan knew Finn would hear his his footsteps but he didn’t care as he padded down the stairs to meet him on the second floor landing. He was breathless by the time he rounded the steep corner, half worried he was going to trip over his own feet in his rush. He caught himself on the railing just as his eyes found Finn, who had just reached the landing.

He was holding his suitcase, which had a plane pillow around the handle. He was wearing a sweatshirt for that bookstore he loved, the Strand, and his beat up blue vans.

They didn’t say anything. Finn just let go of his suitcase, Logan trotted down the final steps, and then they were hugging. Arms tight, breaking into a soft laugh—Logan could feel Finn’s against his skin.

“Hey,” Finn whispered. They were rocking a little, side to side, not letting go. Like he had been with Noelle. Something of the same feeling was there. Tight and eased all at once.

“Hey, Lion.”

Another warm laugh against Logan’s neck. “Ha, yeah. Looks like it.”

You don’t smile like that with anyone else.

“How are you?” Finn asked. “Your flight was okay?”

He’s so wonderful. So wonderful to you.

“Mhm.” Logan should let go now. He should let go now. But Finn gave the back of his neck a little squeeze and he knew, even if neither of them spoke about it, Finn knew by now what that did to him. So Logan just closed his eyes, inhaled his familiar scent. I missed you. It’s been two weeks, but I missed you. Finn’s arms tightened around him. Logan could have said it. Right now, he could say it.

“Mhm,” Finn parroted, and they both laughed softly as they stepped back. Smiled at each other. Finn’s eyes dropped to Logan’s mouth, just for a second, and then he tussled Logan’s hair and tilted his chin towards his own room.

“Have a present for you, c’mere for a sec.”

Finn ditched his suitcase by his closet while Logan settled on his bed like he had a thousand times before.

“Was it weird being interviewed? Did you get your call from Black yet?”

Finn laughed, tugging his sweatshirt over his head and then coming to sit beside Logan with his backpack. “Not yet. You’ll be the first to know. We’ll probably be together for it, so.”

“Yeah,” Logan said. He knew he was sitting too close, but Finn had sat down in a way that made their thighs press together and Logan couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Wanna see?” Finn grinned and reached for his backpack. “Ready?”

Logan smiled. “Ouais, ready.”

He unzipped the big pocket and pulled something out, dropping it right into Logan’s lap.

A Lions hat.

“Wow,” Logan said, still more interested in Finn himself.

“Look.” Finn’s hand brushed his as he turned the hat so Logan could see a small 17 on the side. “They ironed on my number, right in front of me.”

Logan thought of those old white sneakers in his closet that Finn had drawn on. Finn was here, and the little smiley face. This hat felt the same. 17. 17.

Logan flipped it backwards and pushed his hair back, settling it onto his head. “Good?”

Finn just kept smiling at him, but it softened as he looked over Logan’s face. Eyes darting from the number to Logan’s eyes—to his mouth. Back to the number.

“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “Yeah, good.”

Logan wet his lips. “Merci.”

“Mercy…”

They both smiled a little at the joke, years old now, but the air had changed in the room. It wasn’t the casual reunion. Maybe it was never going to be.

Logan held himself perfectly still, watched Finn look at his mouth again. He looked down at Finn’s. A little chapped from traveling. He looked soft and sleepy and warm, brown eyes puddles of it.

“I am,” Logan said before he could keep it in. “I am proud of you.”

Finn’s brows drew together a little. “Yeah?”

“Ouais,” Logan nudged their shoulders together, and just sort of stayed that close. Because he wanted it. He wanted to kiss him so badly that it felt like there was a hook lodged in his chest, tugging. “After…là.” He reached up, God, what was he doing?, and brushed a quick hand over Finn’s neck, the back of his head where he’d hit it against the boards. “After everything.”

“It’s a relief,” Finn said. “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Not true.” Logan laughed. “Finn.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Yeah-huh. Like—seriously, would they have even noticed me if I hadn’t had you by my side? God, like—God, I wish you were a year older so they could have both of us and we would just—Lo, we would tear it up out there and we would—” Finn bit his lip, knocked their foreheads together gently. “We would stay together.”

“It’s not about me,” Logan said. “I’ll be fine. I’m just—you did it. You did it, Harzy. Do you have any idea—merde, you know how—how…how not every day?”

“Rare,” Finn supplied, finding the words for him like he always did.

“How rare that is.” Logan winced. “I don’t like that R sound.”

Finn laughed. They were so close still. “I think you sounded good.”

“You would never say anything else.”

Finn just kept up with that small smile he was giving him. “Like that hat?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm,” Finn said, and Logan rolled his eyes.

“I like it. Seventeen,” Logan said. The pull was back, the hook, stronger, because Finn was still close like he was going to knock their foreheads together again. It was stealing Logan’s breath away, all of it, being back together, the Lions, Noelle…Finn was looking at him like—like he might feel it, too. Logan supposed he was just being stupid if he was, at this moment, still telling himself that they weren’t both feeling this.

“Okay. Ten.” Finn said it softly, and then he was tilting his chin forward, fractionally, so that his lips could brush the corner of Logan’s mouth.

Logan turned his head into it, just a little, feeling Finn’s breath let out shakily. The first kiss was barely one at all, hardly made a sound. They shouldn’t. They shouldn’t, Logan thought as he leaned in again. They shouldn’t, so just one more, and that would be it. That would be it, just—Logan felt Finn part his lips to let Logan swipe his tongue in, warm and gentle. Logan pressed his palm into his own thigh, moving to pull away, willing himself to, because there. There, that’s it, but Finn chased his mouth, hand going to cup his chin gently, like he was pulling on that hook in Logan’s chest. One more, slow, and heavy, and full force of Finn’s warm skin and scent, then another, another, Finn angling his head differently and just one more—

“Is that an O’Hara I heard?”

Percy’s voice in the hall. They were apart in a second, Logan off the bed, heart pounding so hard it hurt, trembling with each beat. He stood near Finn’s desk, across the room, hand out to steady himself, his back to the door. He touched his mouth. It would have been that easy. That fast, a moment of letting himself go, and Percy would have seen. And it would—it could have gotten out and Finn had only just made it, and it would have been all Logan’s fault. Finn deserved better.

“It’s an O’Hara,” Finn said back. Logan closed his eyes and pressed his fingers more firmly against his lips when he heard Finn’s voice break. “Uh, and a Tremblay. Hey, Perc.”

“Mr. Lion!” Logan heard Percy sing-song, and then the sound of him thumping Finn on the back.

Logan hoped he looked all right as he turned around. He offered a smile to Percy.

“Lion in the house, Perc,” he said.

“Damn right.” Percy smiled. “Hey, Silver still downstairs?”

“Yeah,” Finn was rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she was getting water. Cute that she ran all the way down for me.”

“Aw,” Percy smiled. “Girl misses all of her daddies.”

Finn laughed, but he kept glancing at Logan like he was expecting something. And Logan didn’t know what that could be. He felt frozen stiff, like he hadn’t worn thick enough socks to a pond skate. Maybe he was looking at the hat, the seventeen. Maybe he was worried that Logan was wearing it—but no. No, they did this all the time. It was normal. It was a joke.

“So?” Percy asked, then gave Finn’s shoulder a playful shove. “Saw you on TV. How was it?”

“Pretty much, uh. Pretty much what you saw. I mean—yeah. I took a shit ton of pictures, shook a shit ton of hands.” Finn shrugged. “We’ve got a season to win here.”

Percy snorted. “Yeah, yeah, Captain. Very Captain of you.”

Finn rolled his eyes, giving him a shove back. “I’m not a captain to them. Just you weirdos.”

Percy looked at Logan with a grin. “We are pretty weird.”

“Speak for yourself,” Logan said—a phrase he’d picked up from Finn. It had the intended effect, made Percy laugh…made Finn look at him instead of Percy, brown eyes pleased.

“Look,” Finn said. “I’ll tell you all about it, Marshy, but I’ll just have to repeat myself tomorrow. And I’m fucking tired, just got off a plane.”

“Are you telling me to get out of your room?”

“Yep.”

Percy gestured to Logan. “What about him?”

“I was already leaving,” Logan said, which wasn’t true. It was such a lie that it tasted bitter. What would he have been doing if Percy hadn’t walked in when he did? Would he—would he still be—

“Whatever. All right.” He ruffled Finn’s hair. “Breakfast gossip, then. Night.”

Finn smiled. “Sounds good. Night, Perc.”

Percy left, whistling down the hall. They both heard the jingle of Silver coming to find him. Finn stayed still and quiet for a moment before he turned, looking at Logan. He put his hands in his pockets, wet his lips in a way that was nervous. He was so gorgeous it ached.

Logan could walk right back up to him. Press his hands to his cheeks, kiss him. I missed you. It’s only been two weeks. He’d missed Finn so badly that he’d just let him kiss him like that, like it was nothing, like they did it all the time. Like he’d been expecting it. Have a present for you.

He couldn’t stand how Finn was looking at him, like he couldn’t read him. Finn could always read Logan. Instead, he still had his hands in his pockets, unsure.

Finn tilted his head. “Do you…Do you want to—”

“Bagels in the morning?” Logan said quickly.

Finn stuttered over whatever was going to make up the second half of his sentence and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Yeah.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Good.” He took a halting step towards the door. “Thanks for—the hat.”

Finn just nodded, smiled tightly, close-lipped, brows drawn together.

Logan didn’t really remember getting back to his room, only that, once in bed again, in the dark, he brought his fingers to his mouth again, where Finn’s had been.

[nobunsonpesach]

OMG I've been pushing my chubby elves agenda for years now, so glad to see it's catching on, lol.

If you're feeling it, I'd love love love a very plus sized Finno, I see him as black but however you want to draw him would be wonderful <3

One soft black Finno for you! Oh he is so shiny!! ✨

[ela-draws]

Baby elves <3

[eunoiaastralwings]

Hello 🌻 you know I gotta ask for my baby Fingon, so I'm about to hit you with angst today.

May I request a Fingon x reader fic where it's both their final days today in Valinor before he leaves for Middle Earth during the darkening. Fingon and reader were on the brink of developing a relationship (courtship) before the darkening occurred. He promises her that he would return to her one day, since she is not permitted to follow, but reader knows that he isn't going to return to her because of the ban on the Noldor. Basically, a tearful departure between them both, and her begging him not to leave her, reader confesses her love last minute in hopes of him staying but he still leaves. A kiss to her forehead as the final gesture.

Love is a Curse

featuring fingon x fem reader

fandom tolkien-the silmarillion

warnings here comes the angst again

a/n also my first time writing Finno – I hate you Mina (affectionately)

You smiled up as you saw Prince Findekáno making his way over to you in the sunflower meadow. You were in the middle of reading your book – when you heard footsteps coming your way.

You were sat leaned against the tree behind you – at first it was hard to make out it was him because of Arien’s rays casting right to your eyes. But from the shimmer of golden ribbons on the dark hair you instantly knew it was him.

“Prince Findekáno . . .”

You greeted and slowly began to stand.

“No, please – do sit mi ‘lady.”

He said – holding his hand out gently for you to stay seated.

“It is I, who should greet the beautiful maiden.”

You blushed at the compliment – and Findekáno smiled softly at you, holding a hint of a smirk. Standing in front of you – he crouched to your height and handed you a small sunflower.

You frowned taking it from his hand – rolling it between your fingers

“I was out riding my horse – there was this little beauty and out of all the tall, large flowers in this field – this one seems to have taken a liking to my heart.”

He looked directly at you at he said it – making your insides melt at the words.

It was still hard to look at him – not only because of his words that were hinting at something else but also because of Arien’s heavy rays. Then the prince suddenly shifted, noticing your discomfort – hiding the rays of Arien from your face – letting them hit his back instead.

You smiled softly at him – your eyes sparkling with an unsaid emotion and his reflected it. . .beautifully.

Your heart dropped at the news. You frantically shook your head. No, Findekáno would never. . . he can’t!

You ran out from your home – scared, nervous and unbelieving. The darkening from the destruction of the two trees had brought many misfortunes. The selfish part of you couldn’t understand why Findekáno had to leave for this.

He shouldn’t! This didn’t concern him – why was he going after something that concerned his half-uncle and half-cousins to retrieve the silmarils that held the light of the two trees?

He shouldn’t go – he really shouldn’t go! – Not when there was chance for you to happen, but more so if Melkor were to cause a darkening on him, cause his . . .- you didn’t want to think of the possibilities, but it was there – in the back of your mind.

You gasped – seeing him up ahead about to turn and leave with his kin. The shimmering golden ribbon you would recognize anywhere. . .

“Findekáno. . .”

You whispered out first – definite it was him.

“Findekáno!”

Then – you desperately shouted out – your vision blurring suddenly. It was only then you realized you were crying. Tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Where are you going?”

You shouted out – when he turned to you, his eyes widening seeing your shaking, tearing figure running towards him.

“Why are you leaving? – Please!”

“Y/N. . .”

He whispered – stepping towards you. Turukáno pulled him back for a second.

“Stay there – don’t run!”

He shouted towards you – but you kept running towards him desperately, crying.

“You can’t leave like this!”

With your blurred vision from your tears, you almost slipped and fell once or twice – each time he gasped, scared you might fall and cause hurt to yourself.

“I won’t let them take you!”

But you still kept running towards him. Crying your heart out and sobs wreaking your body.

“I won’t let them take you!”

His eyes widened at those words – so you truly felt the same. He was one step away from asking your hand in courtship. One step away from confessing his love for you. One step away in showing the filtering out the raw and powerful emotion in his eyes to you.

“What do I do if you just leave me like this?”

Findekáno heart broke hearing your words – more than anything his heart and soul were begging him to stay. His brother’s grip tightened the furthered he stepped out.

“How could I live after you just leave me like this?”

You cried almost falling again.

“Y/N!”

He yelled out – tears gathering his own eyes.

“What should I do?”

Eventually, your prince roughly pulled away from his brother’s hold and run towards you.

“Findekáno!”

You cried out, tripped over something and was falling– but he quickly caught you in arms. Holding your shaking crying body to him tightly. Neither of you cared for who saw.

You only cried and holding him desperately close to you – this never happened before. There were only lingering gazes and sweet words exchanged between the two of you – this was new and it ached every part of your heart and fëa knowing this probably the first and last time you will get to hold him.

A sob broke out from you when you realized it – and Findekáno held you tighter in his arms.

The both of you only pulled away enough to look into each other’s eyes but still held each other close– the sight of his teary eyes made your heart clench.

“Why are you going? – You can’t go!”

You shook your head – your voice shaking with every word

“Please don’t leave! Can’t you stay?”

You begged through your tears.

Findekáno let out a shaky breath – trying to hold a smile for you and gently cupped your frantically head. Slowly and gently making you stop from doing so.

“If you shake your head any more like that – I am afraid it’ll fall off your neck.”

He tried to joke.

You hit his chest – although not strong enough to hurt.

“This is no time to joke, you fool!”

You whimpered and he only smiled, bittersweetly and tenderly wiped your tears. His own hands were shaking – but Findekáno tried his best to stop that.

“Do not go.”

You whimpered again.

“Nothing will happen. . .”

He tried to promise you.

You sobbed – fisting his tunic at how much of a lie that was.

He wouldn’t be back — not as long as the rule for banning the Ñolder existed.

He would leave you – without a chance of returning. You wanted to hit him – slap him and crush him ever making your heart sing for him and your fëa aching for his.

“You will not!”

Your voice cracked again — the prince found himself gulping. The sight of you so broken in his arms hurt him so much more than he could understand.

He never once deserved your love and affection, did he? – He should not have made his advances known. Then you wouldn’t be here, crying and broken in his arms

It made breathing an impossible task for the Ñolder prince.

“Then come‐”

But your lithe fingers quickly rested on his beautiful lips — preventing the elf prince from speaking.

“Please, do not ask of that from me. . . I cannot Finno. . .”

You knew – if he asked you, you’d fold and leave with him without a second thought.

But you couldn’t – how can you blindly follow him to an unknown future leaving your family behind?

Love is a curse. . .

You remembered the the line of an old poem – you never understood what it meant, until now. . .

“Then forgive me, anarlótënya. . .” (my sunflower).

“No! No, please!”

Findekáno sighed and wiped away one last tear — before he delicately placed his head against your forehead.

“Finno. . .”

You sobbed – your grip on his clothing tightening.

“I must go. I am sorry. . .”

He whispered – then placed a kiss on your forehead. Slowly and delicately – lingering his lips there for a long moment.

Then – he started to pull away. You gasped taking his hand in your hands – trying to hold onto him.

The tears that gathered in his eyes finally slipped and he began to turn away from you.

“Finno. Finno!”

You desperately called him as he tried to pull away – you tried to hold onto him tighter but he managed to pull away from you.

“FINDEKÁNO!”

You yelled out desperately in agony as he broke free from your grasp and turned away from you.

A silent broken sob left him as he took steps further and further. You broken cries and desperate shouts were all he could here until he disappeared with his kin.

You watched until you could no longer see him. . . tears dried and stained on your cheeks as you lifelessly looked on, broken and lost. Your fëa drowning in loneliness.

Love really was a curse. . .

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