#navemore

[cilil]

𝓐𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓼 - 𝟐𝟎 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

⊱ Ósanwe

Characters: Navëquen/Vanimóre Synopsis: Two Maiar of Mandos conversing and teasing each other during their working hours. Warnings: /

"So what do you think? Guilty or not?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Vanimóre rolls his eyes when he hears Navëquen's voice in his mind, laced with a hint of smugness – nigh undetectable within his usual calm, even tone, yet he knows him too well not to notice.

He glances at his fellow prosecutor and notices the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly and an almost mischievous glint in his right eye; his left however, the one that sees the past, remains dull and black, still observing a couple of fëar in the distance. 

Cute, Vanimóre thinks to himself. Part of him wants to snatch one of Navëquen's intricate braids and pull on it to teach the smug bastard a lesson, but alas – he finds himself surprisingly enamoured with those little smiles of his at times. 

"What?"

The other Maia's voice interrupts his train of thought. Vanimóre freezes, realising that he may have still been listening through their connection. 

"Hm?" 

His fëa shrouds itself in feigned innocence. 

"What is cute? Certainly not a bunch of kinslayers?"

He bites his lip in embarrassment, but thanks to his quick wit he swiftly picks up on the latter half of his statement and seizes the opportunity to turn the conversation around. 

"So that's what you weren't telling me. They are guilty indeed, and you know exactly why." 

Navëquen lets out a small snort. "It weighs so heavily on them, I can practically sense their regret with both eyes closed. Whether this shall be counted in their favour or not, Lord Námo may decide."

He clasps his hands behind his back, chin raised in defiance, and it's Vanimóre's turn to smirk. Oh, he knows all too well that the poor thing is now mentally berating himself for giving up his insight too easily. The two of them have a way of messing with one another that's quite simply unparalleled; a welcome distraction from their often monotonous and gloomy tasks. 

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @floraroselaughter @i-did-not-mean-to

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[angbandsgeneral]

Luthien: ( commencing the lament )

Námo: ( on the verge of tears)

.

.

.

Prosecutor's Office: ( VERY weird thumping and vocal noises )

Luthien:

Námo:

Námo: ( actually starts crying ) iluvatar almighty not this again

Maia: my lord, navëquen and vanimóre are at it again

Luthien: does. . . does this happen often?

Námo: ( whispering ) they're soulmates too

Luthien: well fuck

Maia: well at least someone's still singing

[cilil]

Author's Note: Thanks @edensrose for requesting this one!♡

This is the last entry for the spicy bingo that I still had to write. Apologies for the delay, other events and health issues kept interfering with my schedule.

ೃ♡⁀➷ Spicy Bingo: Frottage + Navëmóre ৎ୭

He can't remember the last time he was this excited, if ever before. Yet how is he supposed to stay focused on his work when he finds beautiful, gorgeous Vanimóre bathing in the lotus pools of Mandos, showing off his naked fána so shamelessly, knowing full well he can't tear his gaze away from him?

ৎ୭ Synopsis: Looking for his colleague doesn't go as Navëquen expected

ৎ୭ Featuring: Frottage (shocking I know), handjob, more or less clothed

ৎ୭ Oneshot (~ 900 words)

OC info: Navëquen Vanimóre

Their lips meet in a heated kiss, devouring each other until fangs pierce skin and they withdraw slightly to catch their breath. Navëquen barely has time to gasp before Vanimóre leans in again and licks the tiny wound before his tongue pushes itself between parted lips to explore his mouth. 

He can't remember the last time he was this excited, if ever before. Yet how is he supposed to stay focused on his work when he finds beautiful, gorgeous Vanimóre bathing in the lotus pools of Mandos, showing off his naked fána so shamelessly, knowing full well he can't tear his gaze away from him? When he is now kissing him so shamelessly and fervently, his fána barely covered by thin silken robes? 

Navëquen moans against his lips, causing Vanimóre to withdraw once more and let out a light chuckle.

"Well, creeps? Is this what you wanted?" he taunts, an impish expression on his face, fangs on display. 

Smug as always, Navëquen thinks, but there's no anger or malice behind it. His desire for the beautiful Maia in front of him eclipses everything else he may have felt in this moment, and he feels his fána reacting as well; yet even so, he hesitates, unsure if any further advances on his part are welcome. 

Vanimóre senses his indecisiveness. "Or would you perhaps like to play some more?" he asks suggestively.

His eyes are half-lidded and his breathing is heavy. Before Navëquen can wonder whether he should interpret this as an invitation to continue, he feels Vanimóre's hand on his thigh, slowly trailing upwards until his fingers brush against his growing erection, stroking him through the fabric of his breeches. 

"Ahn–! Vani–" 

He can't help it anymore, can't resist when the Maia he has loved in secret for ages tempts him so brazenly. Letting his instincts take over, Navëquen flips him around and pushes him against the nearest wall. Vanimóre manages to brace himself against it with both hands, only to be caught off-guard by two arms around his waist and a hand slipping underneath his robes to wrap around his cock. 

Navëquen is pleased to discover that his arrogant colleague seems to have enjoyed their kisses as well and starts pleasuring him without further delay. Vanimóre's previous question still remains unanswered, yet he feels like words are no longer needed–their fánar have long since betrayed them, displaying their lust for one another. 

Without thinking, he starts rutting against his counterpart in an attempt to relieve his own need. It feels so good, holding Vanimóre in his arms, touching him, inhaling his scent, hearing the song of his fëa–even better than in his dreams or anything he could have imagined. As much as Navëquen wishes there was no fabric separating their fánar, it creates a pleasant kind of friction that he hopes will be enough to satisfy him; whether he'll be taken care of in return, he is too shy to ask. 

"Getting–mmh–desperate, creeps?" Vanimóre taunts him again, though it's evident that he's suppressing a moan as he speaks. 

Navëquen slows down his movements on purpose, brushing against the tip of his cock with his thumb. 

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, doll," he admonishes, "or touches you, in this case."

Despite his uncertainty in matters of intimacy, he won't let Vanimóre get away with such antics. He rolls his hips forward to  let him feel his hardness and increase friction, allowing soft groans to escape his lips. 

"Please..." Vanimóre breathes. His ear twitches and a shudder of pleasure goes through him; he seems to be giving in. 

"Please what, doll?" 

"Don't... tease me–ngh–touch me... please..." 

"Fine then." 

Navëquen smiles and gently bites his ear, eliciting another beautiful, desperate moan. Never did he think he would have Vanimóre begging for his touch, and he begins to realise just how much he loves this, enjoys taking control and asserting dominance over this smug Maia. 

He resumes his task, stroking Vanimóre with renewed vigour and persistence while he continues to rut against him. Everything else is forgotten, gone from his mind, and all that remains are soft sounds of pleasure, his fingers wrapped around a hot, hard cock and the ever increasing heat in his own lower body. 

It doesn't take long until Navëquen feels warm liquid spilling all over his hand and Vanimóre's fána tensing and quivering from his climax. He tries to hold back, to avoid embarrassing himself any further than he already has by grinding on his colleague like a beast in heat, but it's too late; watching and listening to Vanimóre finding his release in his arms, from his touch no less, has pushed him over the edge, and he soon feels a wet, sticky sensation between his legs. 

"Well?" 

Vanimóre recovers quickly and turns around, giving him an expectant look.

Navëquen isn't sure what he wants. Has he noticed that he came as well? Is he about to point it out and comment on the state of his robes? Is there anything he's expected to do that he isn't aware of? 

"I... have to get back to work," he says quietly, cheeks flushing bright red. Certainly not the most eloquent thing he could have come up with, but the first thing that came to mind. 

Vanimóre opens his mouth as if to protest, but Navëquen quickly disappears in a flash of green, teleporting back to his room with no intention of coming out any time soon. 

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

taglist: @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to

spicy bingo master post | my masterlist | tag list form

[cilil]

𝓐𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓼 - 𝟐𝟎 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

⊱ Obsession

Characters: Navëquen/Vanimóre Synopsis: [Double drabble] Two Maiar of Námo, counterparts, each wishing the other was his. Warnings: The prompt is the warning in itself

He was pale like porcelain, standing at their lord's side like a finely crafted figurine, silent and loyal. 

Vanimóre found himself entranced by his counterpart as he watched him in secret instead of listening to Námo's judgement. Despite his best efforts to remain in the shadows and not draw too much attention, keeping his expression neutral and his head bowed, Navëquen was a sight to behold. He could be perfect in Vanimóre's eyes; if only his heart belonged to him like it should. 

Words couldn't describe how he loathed the viridian ribbons braided into his hair, how he loathed the way his beloved looked at Námo instead of him–so full of admiration, devotion, love. 

He is my counterpart, only mine. My precious, perfect doll, not yours to possess, not yours to toy with, Vanimóre thought, red eyes lighting up in the darkness of Mandos. 

Vala or not, Navëquen was his, not Námo's, and one day he would have him all to himself. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Navëquen stared at the floor in front of his feet, hands clasped together. Despite his best efforts to listen to what Námo was saying, his thoughts kept going back to a certain Maia standing close by. 

Oh, how he hated it when his presence kept him from focusing. Vanimóre, beautiful and arrogant, his colleague and counterpart, holding his heart in his hands. Hundreds of small details about him had Navëquen collected over the years, committed to his memory and immortalised on the pages of his sketchbook; thousands of dreams and fantasies plagued his mind day in and day out. 

If only he could call this pretty thing his own, yet he was not so lucky. He had tried to show his affection of course, but Vanimóre never seemed to take him seriously, playing it off as a joke.

So proud, so cocky. 

And I still wish I could be good enough.

Navëquen felt like he was being stared at, yet he stubbornly kept his gaze down. He wished to daydream for a while longer, allow his mind to wander and imagine what it would be like to have his counterpart all to himself. 

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

taglist: @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to

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[cilil]

Navëquen

“ You may lie about the past, yet the truth always remains like a shadow upon your fëa ”

Some of you may have already read about Navëquen, a Maia of Námo tasked with upholding law, order and justice, on @edensrose's wonderful Ainur blogs.

After many of you gave positive feedback in regards to OC content on my blog, I decided to compose an info doc to formally introduce Navëquen to you. I hope you'll enjoy learning more about him!

◇ info doc

◇ Navë art by @ela-draws

◇ twin fates, a lovely fic written by @edensrose, featuring Navëquen and his counterpart Vanimóre

◇ a fun little interaction between the two on Vanimóre's blog

◇ a wip of a lovely artwork featuring them by @edensrose

◇ masterlist

[cilil]

Vanimóre: Look I practiced my shapeshifting. I can do snakes now Navëquen: Let me see Vanimóre: (shapeshifts) Navëquen: (boops his nose) Heehee you have a face like a puppy Vanimóre: >:3

[cilil]

Vanimóre: Behold my snake form! One of Arda's greatest predators, dangerous and magnificent, with fangs like daggers and venom that paralyzes even the fánar of Maiar-

Navëquen: Angry noodle goes boop :] (boops the snoot)

[cilil]

Vanimóre: ah, it's my favorite creeps~

Navëquen: why, hello, my beautiful colleague~

Vanimóre: ...what

Navëquen: ...what

Vanimóre: ...did you just-

Navëquen: no.

find out more about Navëquen here

Vanimóre is @edensrose's OC, find out more about him here

[cilil]

Vanimóre: I can braid hair blindfolded and with one hair tied behind my back

Navëquen: ... we can arrange that, you know...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

just a small shitpost to celebrate @edensrose's wonderful fic in which Vanimóre braids Navëquen's hair <3

[ofainur]

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ vanimóre ⠀〳 navëquen⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. an au in which vanimóre is eventually redeemed from his corruption, leaving him and his boyfriend navëquen to have lots of fun together. well, until vanimóre tries to gift him flowers and doesn't exactly do a background check on their pollen ( minors dni ៸៸ smut ៸៸ explicit descriptions ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ creampie ៸៸ handjob ៸៸ sex pollen )

· ⊰ note. once again at it with @cilil 's oc because I love the mandos gays. and this time, with spice ~

— 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 !

"Fuck. . ."

"What? Can't take it?" He breathes out heat. "Pathetic."

A startled cry leaves him at the abrupt slam against such a sensitive bundle of nerves. His head hangs, dark hair sticking to the pillow as his nails dig deeper into the back of the other's neck. "V-Van. . ."

"Says the o-one. . . Sobbing on my cock. . . Ahn," grabbing onto his boyfriend's soft thigh with his large hand, Vanimóre's free arm loops around his middle and hoists him up against his heated form. He wasted no more time and immediately begins slapping his hips against Navëquen's, gasping at the intoxicating feel of being inside of him.

Helplessly, Navëquen keeps his arms hooked around the Maia's neck and whimpers at the harsh pace. Every thrust of his lover's cock tore through him, urging him to arch his back and cry out at the unquenchable heat.

"V-Van. . . Van," he whimpers, parting his swollen lips that barely brush against his lover's.

"I know, sweet thing." The other rasps, pressing butterfly kisses to his open mouth as he steers his thrusts faster. Harder. Prompting the headboard to repeatedly hit their bedroom wall. The cacophony of sounds left little to the imagination. Wet noises, gasps, moans, even cries. It was obvious what both Maiar were up to.

"How many times do I tell you. . .mmn, to listen to me?" Navëquen manages through bated breaths and a pink face. "I-If it wasn't for you and your stupid flowers, we wouldn't. . . hah — b-be here. . ."

"This is why you. . . can't have nice things." Vanimóre clicks his tongue, forcing his lover's hips into the sheets and fucking him into the very mattress. The pace draws mewl from Navëquen as his little hole clenches around the other's cock altogether.

"N-Nghh fuck," whimpers Vanimóre, his body giving out and collapsing into the Maia's. With spluttered, pathetic moans, he rapidly picks up his pace. Grabbing onto his boyfriend's cock and stroking, just as Navëquen buried his face into Vanimóre's chest and wraps his lips around his pierced nipple.

"Fuck, N-Navëquen," Vanimóre gasps again, his head tossing back. He cares not for the creaking of the wood. Only his lover's touch. His clenching hole that has him seeing stars. And his beautiful, sinful noises that are prettier than any symphony an ainu could muster.

"Close. . ." Navëquen whines, thrashing in the other's hold. His hips bucking against not only his cock, but up into the hand that strokes him relentlessly. He parts for a second, swirling his tongue around Vanimóre's perked nipple and groaning all the whole. "I'm so close. . . D-Don't stop. . ."

Vanimóre positions himself so that his face is a mere inch from the Maia's. Both gasping, as though searching for air in each other. "I kn-know, darling," he grunts, pressing messy kisses to his kisses to his mouth once more. "M-Me too. . . Damnit, you're so perfect." His indulgent, loud moan fills the air and he couldn't give a damn of how pitiful he looks. He collapses into his lover, pressing their lips together.

Their tongues wrestle, hands claw, as though they attempted to steal the very air from one another as they both approached the devastating high that left both of their knees shaking.

"V-Vani. . .móre, I c-can't," Navëquen cries against his lips, tightening his hold on the dark hair between his fingers. "Cum for me. . ." Is all the other can gasp. His thrusts become near-torturous, even for him.

With one last cry of each other's name, the two spasm. Navëquen staining Vanimóre's hand white and yanking him down into a messy kiss as Vanimóre lets out a deep, pathetic whimper against his lips. Shivering as his seed paints his lover's walls and squirts out of his trembling hole.

The two are reduced to quivering, pitiful messes. Clawing and whining into each other as they ride out their high out. Until the ecstasy crashes and they melt into each other's arms with ragged pants and teary eyes.

"Damnit. . ." Groans Navëquen, his forearm pressed onto his forehead. "I-It's still so hot. . ."

"I know," Vanimóre breathes, his eyes fluttering as he tightens his hold once more on the Maia's thighs. Only to have Navëquen's hand wrapped around his wrist. He gives a questioning look, only for his back to meet the soft sheets.

He almost whines when Navëquen removes himself off of his cock, his eyes just as needy. "Creeps, what are you —"

"It's my turn, doll." Navëquen replies. The sternness in his voice wavering with his own need and tears as he brings his wet cock against his lover's awaiting hole.

Sucking in a breath, Vanimóre gives no complaint. This time, his arms hook around Navëquen's neck — and the other grabs his thighs. With that, their lips crash again in a needy frenzy, eager to quell the insufferable heat.

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ tip jar.

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @cilil

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

[cilil]

Vanimóre: Why are you calling my little sister "Lilómelda" while all I get is "snake" or "slut"?! Navëquen: ...am I wrong though

@edensrose

[angbandsgeneral]

[for the relationship types]

Navëmóre be like:

🌈💛💜💌(both)💕🔥💗💖💟🧡💘🤫(Vani)⚔️💔🚫🖤💀🔪🤍💗(again)❤️

; let me show you all what a beautiful mess this ship is

🌈 developing friendship

💛 childhood friends

💜 friendship

💌 one muse has a crush on the other muse

💕 mutual pining

🔥 unresolved sexual tension

💗 slow burn

💖 a sexual relationship that could turn romantic

💟 developing sexual relationship ( may include romance )

🧡 friends with benefits

💘 friends to lovers

🤫 one muse is secretly an enemy/traitor to the other muse ( vani )

⚔️ rivalry 

💔 used to be together but broke up

🚫 friends to enemies

🖤  lovers to enemies

💀 enemies

🔪 enemies with sexual tension

🤍 enemies to lovers

💗 slow burn

❤️ committed, romantic relationship

they're so complicated I love them so much I swear zkxmx