#finwions

[thetiredprometheus]

Fëanor’s hand settles on the back of his neck and squeezes, feeling nearly as much a threat as a comfort. “If you were not already grievously injured,” Fëanor says lowly, voice dark and furious, “I would punch you.” “It is a good thing I am grievously injured then.” He leans more of his weight on Fëanor. 

Fanart for chapter 4 of "you're in the wind, i'm in the water" by @atlantablack

If you like Fingolfin, Fëanor and time travel you should definitely check this fic out!

[sesamenom]

o monstrous craven lord

[fandomsandfairytales]

On the house of Finwë:

What collective name (or essë) do you typically call the house of Finwë/his children and/or family?

Finwëons

Finweans

Finwions

"OP I can't believe you forgot [insert here]" - tell me in the tags!

See results / haven't read The Silm

Voting ended onJul 31, 2025

If you use multiple, just pick the one you use most often!

I most often use "Finwëons," and I use it to refer to not only Finwë’s kids but also his grandkids, other descendants, and extended family. I occasionally use "Finweans," and very rarely, if ever, "Finwions" (I tend to reserve that for Finwë's children only).

In the poll, I listed the main three names/titles I see most often. I've seen "Finuions" too, but used by only one person (@leucisticpuffin in the wonderful fic "we will make this place our home," to refer to Maglor and Maedhros; however, "Finuion" is specifically their last name, due to the fic being set in the 1970s in England.) If anyone has seen or used any other names, I'd be interested to know!

(Also, yes, I know, my question is just begging to be answered with a snarky answer—e.g. "yeah I most commonly call them 'those !%$#-s'"—but I couldn't think of a better way to phrase the question and I couldn't remember if this type of name to refer to one's descendants had an actual title in any of the Elvish languages.)

[erotetica]

Ballpoint findis

[mossquitoman]

Local blacksmith makes deal with devil, gains ability to make worlds shiniest jewels.

[naryaflame]

Halmir, son of Orodreth

There was a discussion on SWG about the ever-evolving Finwion family tree, and this forgotten/deleted character was brought up, so I made him a moodboard. 

[thatfeanorian]

Gingerbread (Fingon, Finrod, and Caranthir)

“God, Findaráto, what are you trying to do, drown it?” Fingon’s nose is wrinkled in disgust as he stares down at the gingerbread monstrosity on the table before them, liberally slapping more frosting onto the already drenched house. Finrod laughs cheerfully, scrubbing his knife across one side and blending the red, blue, yellow, and green frostings until they make a vaguely brownish colour and replies,

“Naw, I’m trying to get Moryo to join in. He won’t unless the threat of intoxication via sugar is a possibility.” One corner of the house begins to droop inwards as Finrod dumps another large scoop of neon blue frosting on top of it, and Fingon raises his eyebrows, abandoning any pretence of dissent in favour of grabbing a knife himself and happily working to blend it into the unappetizing brown the rest of their creation has taken on. From the corner where he sits with a large textbook, Caranthir looks up and frowns critically, 

“Based upon the proportions of that ceiling and durability of the material you are using I am going to guess that will be flat within the hour and all you will have done is wasted valuable food materials which in the possession of a more competent handler might have actually been consumed or used to make something edible.” Rolling his eyes, Fingon ignores this speech, but Finrod takes the frosting-covered spatula still in one of their enormous bowls and waves it in front of Caranthir’s face tantalizingly, sending little clumps of it falling onto his nose and jumper,

“Come on, Moryo, you know you wanna eat it!” Reaching down, he flicks off a bit of frosting from his cousin’s jumper and licks it off his finger with an exaggerated,

“Yum!” Caranthir looks to be somewhere between laughing and crying as he rolls his eyes, finally deciding on neither as he takes the two remaining bowls from the table and drops them unceremoniously into the sink, turning on the water before Finrod gets a chance to grab them. 

“Hey!” He protests, “I wasn’t finished with those.” Caranthir glances over at the completely frosting covered blob that might have been gingerbread at one point and rolls his eyes with a masterful look of superiority on his face,

“I don’t think you could put more frosting on that if you tried.” He says simply, and Finrod gazes longingly at the bowl in the sink with a long overdramatic sigh,

“I suppose I must suffer for the sake of architecture then.” He replies mournfully as Fingon lets out a bark of laughter,

“Architecture?” He asks dubiously, “This looks more like one of those deep sea sponges you’ve been studying than any building I’ve seen.” Finrod turns around a mocking hurt expression on his face,

“A deep-sea sponge? I would have you know that Venus’s flower basket looks nothing like this work of modern art.” From back in his seat, Caranthir says,

“Modern art also encompasses the idea of an upside-down pre-manufactured chair being a masterpiece, so you can’t say that as if it’s an accomplishment.” Throwing one hand across his brow, Finrod leans back into the table, seeming uncaring that his hair is now scraping across the house and accumulating sticky frosting,

“I am being attacked from all corners. How is one man supposed to survive that?” Grabbing Fingon’s hand and falling to the floor he wails overdramatically,

“Have you no pity for a poor artist?” Fingon looks down at him with badly concealed laughter spasming his frame,

“No, but how does a conciliation cookie sound?” Finrod grins and jumps up to catch the frosted deer-shaped cookie Fingon tosses towards him in his mouth, making a muffled noise of jubilation when he actually manages the feat. Caranthir raises an eyebrow in grudging appreciation, and Finrod laughs, snapping off half the cookie in one bite and shoving the other half into his cousin’s unsuspecting mouth, laughing as Caranthir splutters and crumbs spray out of his mouth and onto the gingerbread blob in front of them.

“Well,” Fingon admits cheerfully, “No one is going to be eating that tonight.”

[cuthalion]

finwions