skyrimkinkmeme | Meme Announcements!

Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

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As they left together, Ulfric sighed, his breath dissipating in the cold air. “I am gravely sorry for asking my people to return to war, so soon. But,” he admitted, “it is a more personal cruelty of which I spoke, before.”

Mortified, Audric felt himself go numb. “I…” What, he’d forgotten? “Somehow, I hadn’t thought that…” He was shocked into silence when Ulfric rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. The touch felt oddly intimate, and he was tempted in part to recoil, in part to embrace.

“No, you are right to think less of me for it; remembering my own trials before those of my own people is selfish, shameful.” There was a sadness in his face that transcended the influences of age and jaded nobility. Ulfric, before he had been a king, was a soldier – and not long before that, a young, ingenuous boy. It was easy looking at him now to forget that he hadn’t simply come into existence as a hardened warrior.

“I don’t think,” Audric said carefully, “there is any shame in being selfish.”

Ulfric smiled, wide, and squeezed Audric’s shoulder in his big paw. “No, you wouldn’t.” From his comment or his gesture, it mattered not: Audric’s face felt aflame. “Come, won’t you take breakfast with me before running off to whatever distasteful task you’ll lie to me about later?”

Audric’s stomach grumbled and he was tempted. But, he had procrastinated long enough, and could stand the guilt no longer. “I am sorry, really. But I must leave; I lingered too long in the temple, as it is. And I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, “I’m up to nothing objectionable. My business takes me to High Hrothgar.”

Ulfric’s brow furrowed. “Does it, now?”

Seeing no reason to keep secrets, he decided he would unburden himself. “I must confer with the Greybeards; I need their knowledge regarding a particular Shout, one powerful enough to defeat Alduin.”

Closing his eyes, Ulfric shook his head, sighing. “No, Audric.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do not waste your breath on the climb, on the argument that will ensue. Whatever Shout could overpower the World-Eater, the Greybeards won’t know it.”

Audric stood, frozen to the pavement. His face must have shown his anger, for Ulfric removed any contact between them. “How can you be so cynical?” he finally asked.

“Don't pretend to be ignorant to their pacifism. Violence and conquest has never been their way.”

“Are you saying they won’t help? Not one bit?”

“Not that they won’t, but that they can’t. It goes against their noble principles, and you can’t possibly expect any results, not from this fool’s errand.”

Turning his back on Ulfric, he stormed quietly to the city’s edge. He would leave, and he would climb that damned mountain, and he would have his answers one way of the other.

The bitterness of disappointment and resentment was second only to the bitterness of the wind’s bite. His hood flapped noisily around his ears and he cursed, squinting through the gale and snow. Oh, he’d learned another Shout, but nothing of use in his pursuit of Alduin – and it had become a pursuit. With time, his heart had grown heavy with purpose, and where once he had felt cold with terror, his veins now burned with an itch to confront the World-Eater. No longer did he hide from dragons, nor did he fear their wrath. If he feared anything, it was his own unmitigated fury, a smoldering temper he never knew he possessed.

The sun achieved its height as he crested the last icy ridge. The path was clear of rocks and crevices, and the ice had given way to dry, fluffy snow. Audric hoped that this Paarthurnax would be reasonable with him, that he would at least be more open to discussion than Arngeir. Though, Audric thought, any man who chose to live at the top of frigid mountain probably couldn’t be reasonable.

The ground leveled beneath his feet, and Audric stumbled forward. Up here, the wind mysteriously dispersed; the sunlight glittered off the snow, nearly blinding him. He peered through the gleam, searching for some remote house, an outpost, anything. But all that rose out of the glare was a towering stone wall.

Audric’s skin crawled and his veins burned with adrenaline. And then he heard it, a great and thunderous roar that shook the air. He drew his sword and waited, tense. But as the dragon sailed overhead, there came no burst of flame or shower of ice. The gust from its enormous wings knocked him back, though, and he tumbled into the snow. Before he could get to his feet, the ground trembled and, caught off his guard, Audric resigned himself to his grisly fate.

And yet, no such fate was forthcoming.

“Drem Yol Lok, greetings,” its voice rumbled. “I am Paarthurnax.”

Audric bolted upright and stared. Every nerve in his body was singing and a pit of nausea was forming in his gut.

“Who are you?” Paarthurnax asked patiently. “What brings you to my strunmah, my mountain?”

At last, he stood and dusted off. If he could barely keep upright, he could at least keep up appearances. “I think you know who I am,” he said. “I wasn’t, ah…I wasn’t expecting you to be a dragon.”

A rich wave of air buffeted him and he had to hold his ground. He realized then, this dragon was laughing. “I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you, Dovahkiin. Tell me," he said, "why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?”

Upon closer inspection, it was plain that Paarthurnax was very old, even by the standards of dragons. His scales were dull; his teeth and spines cracked and broken; he spoke with dignity and grace. And Audric had expected to conquer the mountain and demand his answers! But now he felt small and meek, like his knees might buckle under the absurdity of his quest.

“I need to learn Dragonrend.” He gulped.

Paarthurnax eyed him quizzically through one bright eye. “Drem,” he admonished, “patience. There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the Dov. By tradition, the elder speaks first.” Slowly, he ambled around to face the Word Wall. “Hear my Thu’um!” he roared. “Feel it in your bones, and match it, if you are Dovahkiin!”

The inferno flared, and Audric watched in awe at the terrific sight. But almost as quickly as the panic set in, so did the inevitable longing.

“The Word calls to you,” Paarthurnax observed. “Go to it.”

Sheathing his sword, Audric clenched his teeth. The pull of power was still as potent as it had been in Bleak Falls Barrow; inexorable and formidable. Slowly, as if to temper himself, he approached the wall, shivering. The Word burned for him and him alone, and though he could not take his eyes off it, he still fought, even as it sought him out.

When it was done, and he understood, he felt weak.

Paarthurnax shifted cautiously behind him. “A gift, Yol,” he said gently. “Understand fire as the Dov do.”

Eons of contemplation, of careful observation and trial seeped into his being. It saturated his mind and dissolved into his soul, exciting his blood. Strengthened, somewhat, by this gift, he found his standing and faced his new mentor with resolve.

“Now, show me what you can do. Greet me, not as mortal, but as Dovah.”

Fire. The word bubbled up inside of him. Searing, brilliant. It defined itself, first plainly, then more esoteric. Consuming, treacherous, and fierce. At last, he made sense of the savagery of it.

“Yol!” his voice echoed off the crags, and the stone quivered, threatening to answer back.

Paarthurnax exulted in the fervor of the Shout. “The dragonblood runs strong in you!” he exclaimed, delighted. “It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind.”

The gravity of the statement was lopsided for them. Audric felt suddenly arrested inside his own body; his brittle bones, his feeble sinew...it felt wrong.

The pair of sat together for some time, speaking. Audric curled his cloak around himself in the snow while Paarthurnax perched, undaunted by the chill, on the cold stone wall. They spoke at length, of all manner of things, great and small. Perhaps it was the conversation, or perhaps it was some fundamental peculiarity of the Dov, but time lost its virtue and passed unnoticed.

The sun was beginning to sink when Audric thought to ask, “If you cannot know it – if no dragon can know it – how am I to learn Dragonrend?”

Paarthurnax moved as if the many years of his life weighed physically on his bones. “Drem,” he admonished, “all in good time. But a question for you, Dovahkiin: why do you want to learn this Thu’um?”

The question startled him. Why wouldn’t he, after all? The answer seemed obvious. “I need to stop Alduin.” The words left him not slowly, not like a patient explanation to a child, but with conviction that bordered desperation.

“Yes, Alduin, the elder brother. Gifted, grasping, and troublesome – as is often the case with firstborn.” That he spoke of Alduin as blood alarmed Audric, and he preferred not to entertain the thought. “But why? Why must you stop Alduin?”

The answer to this question came as easily as to the last, though, brother or not. “I like this world, and I don’t want it to end.”

“As a good a reason as any,” the dragon agreed. “Many feel as you do, but not all. Some would say that all things must end so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next.” He leaned in, too close for comfort, so that Audric was confronted with his teeth. “Would you stop the next world from being born?”

This question posed a much tougher dilemma than its predecessors. While he was no stranger to existential quandaries, Audric was not the philosophical sort. Much of his childhood had seen him a prisoner of books and study, and as an adult, his appetite for the abstract had soured. But he bade himself think it, think of the Next World: of clear rivers and empty meadows, of sheer cliffsides and rolling hills. Untamed mountains and cavernous gorges; the animals that might be given to roam these familiar landscapes, and the beings that might follow in their footsteps. This of course led him to remember bright holidays, his own sorrows and joys. In an instant, it was as if he could recall every fit of laughter and every anguished cry – his own, and those of his fellows. He thought of his friendships, both fleeting and tested; he thought of sex and the people he’d spent long afternoons and balmy nights and cold mornings with; he thought of his first love, and all the loves that came after.

“The next world will have to take care of itself.”

Paarthurnax blinked at him, almost sadly, he imagined. “Paaz. A fair answer.” After a somber moment, he continued, “But maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world; those who try to hasten the end might delay it; those who work to delay the end may bring it closer. But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough.”

Audric could not help but think the privilege was reciprocal.

“Now, I will answer your question. Few remember that this – the Monahven – was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues.”

Defeat seemed an embellishment, but wisely, Audric kept his mouth shut.

“The Nords used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin, but this was not enough. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to…” he struggled to find the right words, “cast him adrift on the currents of Time. Some hoped he would be gone forever, lost. Meyye. I knew better,” he lamented. “Which is why I have lived here; for thousands of mortal years, I have waited. I knew where he would emerge, but not when.”

Frustrated, Audric stood. “How does any of this help me?” he demanded.

“Tiid krent!” was the impatient answer. “Time was shattered here! Because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin! If you brought that Kel back here, to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time Wound...you may be able to cast yourself back to the other end of the break.”

The ingenuity of it dawned on Audric just as it was presented to him, and he was suddenly very thankful to this strange dragon who had waited on such an opportunity for untold centuries.

Learn Dragonrend from those who created it.

With veneration and awe, he thanked Paarthurnax, and before it got too frigid, he set off down the mountain.

Though his head was swimming with schemes and his chest felt swollen with dread and anticipation, he made himself take a meal in Ivarstead. Congratulating himself, he took comfort in that it would likely be some time before he located the Elder Scroll that could give him this tool to take against the World-Eater...even if some of that time might need to be facilitated by himself. He managed to wrangle some parchment and a quill from Wilhelm, and in four words scrawled onto it, he created his first diversion.

Meet me at home.

With enough coin, he was able to persuade a courrier into departing that very evening.

Thanks again for all the encouragement! It's really lovely to see, especially when I am having difficulty motivating myself.

I can't wait for the next update, this is a lovely fill.

“The circle?” Ariella repeated; she was confused.

“Yes.” Vilkas said, they were in the courtyard, just the two of them.

“Why?”

“Kodlak says you have a wisdom that will guide the Companions and influence the other whelps.”

“It’s not just because I know about the Beastblood, is it?”

“Of course not. Kodlak was talking about this before we knew you knew.” Ariella looked uneasy, not fully believing him. She looked away from him and wrung her hands out. “Kodlak’s made up his mind on this.”

“Vilkas, I’m still a whelp.”

“Soon you won’t be.” He took her hands into his and kissed them in an attempt to sooth her. “Relax. When Farkas and Aela get back Kodlak will tell them and we’ll probably have the ceremony tomorrow.”

“That soon?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, “Where are Farkas and Aela anyway? I didn’t think they had a job today.”

“Farkas said something about taking Aela out to hunt.” Ariella replied quickly, Vilkas nodded.

“Well I’ll go let Kodlak know I told you.” She nodded and let him go. When he left the room she let out a sigh of relief and began wringing her hands again. Farkas and Aela should be back soon, they had to be or it would be all her fault.

---

Farkas and Aela didn’t come back till the early hours of the morning. Ariella was still wide-awake when they returned. Vilkas had gone to sleep already and Ariella feigned that she was reading something Dragonborn related.

She managed to convince him that her book had some information on a shout that she wanted to read about. He had left her in the mead hall and she promised she would be down soon.

When Farkas and Aela came back they were tired and covered in blood.

“Tell me that’s not yours.” Ariella said. She felt like a mother whose children returned home late.

“It’s not, Shield Sister.” Aela said, the woman smiled brightly, the first smile Ariella had seen on her in a while. Farkas looked at Aela and smiled as she did. “We found a list of Silver Hand camps!”

Ariella raised an eyebrow at her.

“They will all pay for what they did to us.” Aela said, pulling the list from her pack, “Would you be able to locate these places for me?”

“Aela, you can’t keep doing this. It’ll only lead to ruin.” Ariella pleaded with her, “Be satisfied now before we lose any more.”

Aela shifted, smile fading from her face slightly, “I suppose you’re right.” Aela put the list back in her pack.

“Kodlak needs to speak with you both in the morning by the way.”

“You didn’t tell him did you?” Farkas said, looking slightly panicked.

“No.”

“Vilkas?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Ariella.” Farkas said before the Breton left to go downstairs.

Downstairs Ariella changed quickly and then slid into bed with Vilkas. He was asleep by reached out for her when she settled into bed. She felt slightly guilty for keeping secrets from him but he would know everything soon enough.

how I only just got onto the bandwagon now, I'll never know, but damn A!A, this is a nice fic :)

I'm sorry you had me at "working on a fill" and after that you just had me screaming with delight. OP can wait, AA, don't you worry! Just have fun writing it :)

Thank you very much! I hope you continue to read and enjoy it.

I have a bit of fear for Farkas and Aela ... they're definitely looking for revenge but they will find the entire group of silver hand behind! Vilkas will be upset and I hope this does not bring problems with Ariella! we all know how Vilkas will be angry if things go like in the game! He will make a real massacre!

Vilkas was with Kodlak organising the official part of the ceremony, Farkas was helping set up for the celebration, the whelps were out on small jobs around the hold and Aela had been locked in her room for the morning.

Ariella sat outside, alone. She wasn’t allowed to help with anything or go on any jobs. It made for a very bored Dragonborn.

She had tried reading but her mind would always wonder leaving her staring at blank pages. After finishing lunch she realised that Aela had not been out of her room since her talk with Kodlak early in the morning and was probably hungry.

Needing to find some use for herself she gathered a small lunch and headed downstairs. No one could stop her from bringing food to the Huntress. After Kodlak told Aela and Farkas about Ariella being inducted into the circle Aela had shut herself up in her room.

Ariella thought that perhaps she was to blame. Perhaps the Huntress thought that the scholar was replacing Skjor somehow. Not that Ariella ever could, she would never fill his boots.

Hoping she was not the cause of Aela’s solitude, Ariella knocked on the door lightly. “Yes?” Aela’s broken voice called.

“I’ve brought you some food.” She opened the door straight away, not giving Aela any time to tell her to go away.

Aela sat up on the bed, wiping her eyes, which were red and puffy. Clearly she had been crying, Ariella knew that Aela still mourned Skjor’s death. She had hoped that clearing the Silver Hand would have helped her heal somehow, but it didn’t seem to.

“Here.” Ariella handed the food to Aela and then took a seat.

“You didn’t have to bring me lunch.”

“It gives me something to do. No one’s letting me do anything…” Aela offered a small smile as she ate. It was a fake smile, a smile one gave to try to cover up sadness. “Can I ask you something?” Ariella was nervous suddenly.

“Anything.”

“Do you think I deserve to be a member of the Circle?” Perhaps it was an unfair question to ask but it had been what was causing her so much distraction.

“Kodlak’s reason is sound.” That wasn’t really an answer, Ariella looked down at her hands. “I believe you have the qualities to be a Circle member, perhaps even Harbinger one day. Work on your arm and you’ll be one of the best Companions we’ve got.”

“Thanks, Aela.” Ariella smiled at the woman, who still looked sad. “Is everything alright?”

Aela’s face faltered for a moment, “I... I still think of Skjor…”

Ariella nodded at Aela’s confession.

“I still can’t believe he is gone. I’m angry and sad and miserable and I… I don’t feel like myself. The only time I’ve felt like my actual self was last night after clearing the Silver Hand camp.” The huntress gave a sad smile then shook her head. “It’s stupid, I just have to get over it.”

“We all cope with loss differently…” Ariella said, mostly to herself though. She sighed, “Give me the list and I’ll see what I can do.”

Such a shame no one's filled this! Passerby anon leaves this little possible plot list below for any anons who might be interested in writing it, or for themself if they ever get down to it. I hope OP isn't apposed to anything but if they are I hope they say so.

Hircine - in a forest - it's the actual chase that's the most fun and about 2/3 of it is foreplay and playing hard to get.
Mehrunes Dagon - his altar/shire - the definition of rough, bruises and bitemarks and a change felt, size-kink and breath-play would probably work in there too.
Vaermina - in the dragonborn's head - their worst nightmare come to life, endured amusingly enough and then tripled + her getting off on DB's terrified screaming and crying. Psychological sadism, possibly? DB's weirdly into it though.
Sheogorath - in Pelagius' mind - food play, blindfolds, tickling, combining the whole thing with games.
Boethiah - her Sacellum - whipping, blood-play, screaming, scratching, a real bloody battle and Boethiah'd only be pleased once DB manages to get the hang of the situation and be more dominant.
Molag Bal - shrine in Markarth house - dub-con definitely, bondage, Dom/Sub, slapping, spanking, slave~~-play~~, blood-play, biting, begging, collar, voice etc.
Clavicus Vile - Haemar's Shame - stiptease, teasing, orgasm denial, not getting to finish at all because he finds it more fun when she doesn't.
Sanguine - a tavern - semi-public-sex (in a storage room, maybe?), oral, prostitution-kink, drunk-sex (is alcohol-play (kinda like food-play) a thing? it is now), threesome with a Dremora Lord, double-penetration, fingering, facesitting, squirting - the works!
Malacath - his shrine - angry-sex, being loud and rough.
Hermeaus Mora - ???? - tentacle sex, voice kink, anal, exhibitionism maybe.

No ideas involving Namira, Peryite, Azura, Mephala or Nocturnal though.

Congrats on the 90th entry. I'm still.shamelessly stalking and loving this fill.

Sorry, this isn't quite as angsty as you wanted, but while the full story behind this is whirling around my head I can't get it down quite yet, so I hope this suffices.

*

The Dragonborn bit her tongue to keep from laughing as she saw the two warriors approach her, leaning on each other for support. They both looked beaten half to death, but they were certainly alive enough to stagger on. Makeshift splints were attached to Tullius's right arm and Ulfric left leg, and they were both covered in bruises and cuts.

"Well," she began as they separated to their respective factions and sat at the negotiating table. "Now that the men of the hour have deigned to join us..."

"That." Tullius cut in as he shrugged off Rikke's hand on his shoulder. "Was not an ordinary avalanche."

"Oh?" The Dragonborn returned his stare with wide-eyed innocence. A tricky effect to pull off while in dragon bone armour, to be sure, but she did her best. "What makes you think that?"

"Perhaps the shout we both heard moments before it," remarked Ulfric dryly. "Or the fact that you yourself asked us to walk on ahead with you."

"Really? Well... In that case, I'm sure Master Arngeir will conduct a full investigation into who would have instigated such... shenanigans."

"Right," replied Tullius sarcastically, at the same time as Ulfric spat out an "Of course".

"Regardless," she continued smoothly. "Did you find your time together enlightening, at all?"

Both men continued to glare at her for the next several hours, but all agreed that the truce negotiations went much more smoothly than expected, with hints of what might even be called mutual respect, and the Dragonborn later heard that General Tullius had acquired a troll skull trophy, which he proudly displayed in Castle Dour.

Anon? My firstborn for the full story.

We are 90 and not get enough! I need this story! Beautiful chapter ... I feel that the pain is still around! For Vilkas and Ariella will be sure a hard time! But the Companions are a family and as such they face throughout, supporting each other! Beautiful story!love love

I had just devoured the whole 90 chapters in one sitting! :D awesome fanfic, looking forward for the next part <3333

I concur. The snippet demands elaboration!

I'm sorry that your story seems abandoned, I always hope that you will return!

Wow, thanks so much! This was my first fill on this meme so I was a little nervous. I don't want to make any promises I can't keep, but I'll do my best to keep chipping away at the full story.

anon sees what you did there

Yesssss hot damn
i would love to see an epilogue of him having flashbacks/thinking of their little *interaction* while giving a lecture to their class!

gods be praised

i was just looking for another fic with Drevis and this filled all my needs

A!A here. Sorry. I've been dealing with other things and have had to put this on a semi-hiatus, as with all of my fics. I will update whenever I can.

Skjor tried to act normal as he led Aela through the underforge. He didn’t want her to realized how unsettled he was. A pair bond between lycanthropes, required both to be Hircines children. Yet Aela’s wolf spirit had attempted to bond with Reljir. Such a thing was believed to be impossible, but he couldn’t deny what had happened in front of him.

As the alpha he protected the pack. But, how could he protect her against her own beast? He glanced at Aela whose fingers were shaking, as she tried to unfasten the ties on her dress. With a growl he moved in to help her, before shedding his own garments. Skjor knew Aela was in trouble. He had no idea if she would have lasting effects from the failed pair bonding attempt.

A werewolf could love, lay with, and even have children by ordinary people. But, they didn’t pair bond with them. Pair bonds formed when ones beast spirit acknowledged another as its mate. The two were then mated for life. It was rare, Skjor had never before witnessed it. However, he knew enough lore to realize what was happening. Aela was not so lucky. He could tell by her reactions she had no idea what was happening to her.

She was aware of pair bonds, all Jorrvaskar’s werewolves were; but it would not occur to her that her wolf was attempting to form one. Well he would do the best he could for her beginning with the hunt. A night on the plains chasing prey without a care, should do both of them good. Skjor didn’t tell Aela he planned to mount her. It was the only thing he knew that might rein in the mating instincts of her beast. Perhaps her wolf needed reminding it needed a beast counterpart to truly bond with.

He paused just long enough to make sure Aela shifted, before relaxing into the change himself. For awhile he was content to rejoice in the hunt, chasing elk with the smaller female. But, even in wolf form, he hadn’t forgotten his intent to copulate with her. He cautiously approached her. She growled a warning towards him the fur on her body standing up. He paused sniffing the air. She was not receptive, it was almost as if she were marked!

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Meme Announcements!

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