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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

I second literally every point made in this prompt.

AWW YISS. This is so, so sexy. I love the tension, the build up. Author Anon, you're such an excellent writer! Looking forward to your updates.

With his brother already purified, Vilkas yearns to cure himself of his cursed beastblood with the help of his Harbinger and future husband. On their quest, Vilkas finally realizes something he's been denying for months.

Tags; relationship: slash, character: farkas, vilkas, m!db race: bosmer kinks: hurt and comfort, flirting, fluff, angst

~~~~

Farkas told him it was like waking from a horrible dream, like stepping out into the sunlight after being trapped in a dark cave for so long you forgot the smell of the pines and the taste of the open road. His larger brother surprised him when he'd left at the break of day with their Harbinger, going to set things right with his soul at Ysgramors tomb. To finally rid himself of the curse that had plagued them both for so many dark years. It surprised him that Farkas would have taken that initiative, and even more so that their Harbinger so eagerly accompanied him.

The very same Harbinger that came to him during his darkest times, who filled his fiery heart with lust and such confusion. The Bosmer with wild hair and a musical soul- one he'd never thought would reach the ranks he has in the Companions and in Vilkas' own heart as a friend. The wolf in him snarled wickedly with jealousy at the idea of the mer alone with his brother- that's when he knew it was time. The wolf had taken control of his emotions, made him wild and angry at everything it could. Kodlak had taught him this lifestyle wasn't right, they wouldn't make it to Sovngarde with Hircine's curse and he couldn't stand the idea of lashing out at his brother-his own flesh and blood- for the sake of the wolf's coveting eye.

It wasn't a surprise to Vilkas that he couldn't bring himself to ask the Harbinger for the same. Ever since that night he cried, came undone and fell asleep all in the mer's arms, it seemed damned impossible for him to think straight whenever the mer was around. He never took himself to be a shy man but he always found himself staring when he walked by, at a loss for words when they chatted over dinner. It was infuriating, embarrassing, everything he didn't want... and worst of all, the Bosmer knew of these feelings. It worried the Nord to think that he may have let this friendship grow too deep- but seeing him now exit Jorvasskr to rest under the Gildergreen, he knew he needed the Bosmer's help.

So he followed. Vilkas gulped and rised from his seat, glancing over at Farkas who seemed so comfortably free in his purity. He wanted the same, and Farkas kept alluding to his edgy brother to finally make the trip. He peeked out from the front doors, as if worried the mer would be right there waiting for him. But no, he saw the strapping elf with his back against the thick trunk of the blossoming tree, a quill in hand with the feather tickling at his lips while he pondered.

His heart was already pounding when the Bosmer looked up to him, that blasted smile on his face that was so contagious already showing. “Vilkas!” He put the scroll and quill aside, standing to greet him only for Vilkas to quickly ask him to stop, watching the lithe Nord sit down before him. “Are you here for a visit?” He joked, seeing a smile flash over Vilkas' stubbled lips before something changed- he suddenly got dark, and worried.

“Aye, I have.” Well, here it goes, Vilkas. He didn't want to make this any more difficult for him with idle chatter. “But.. There is a very personal task ahead of me.” The bosmer's smile faded, seeing him lean in. There was a tickle in the mer's mind and already he knew what Vilkas wanted- it was just a matter of time. “What troubles you?”

“It was...” Vilkas looked away, eyes scanning over the skyforge in the distance- he didn't like talking to him about Kodlak. “Kodlak's final teaching. I think he was right about the beastblood and Sovngarde. I wish to cleanse myself that I might know glory in the afterlife.” The way he said that, the pain laden in Vilkas' voice made the bosmer's heart sting. He found it beautiful how Vilkas prized honor and glory the way the Nords of old did in the tales.

“The sleepless nights, the unwanted thoughts of the hunt, I fear that I may soon become more a beast than Nord. I saw how you helped my brother and I-”

Omg I want to read this too!! someone need to write this! ;-;

They were leagues from anywhere, set out to camp in a patch of dirt high above a forest, with the sun warming their backs and the smell of woodsmoke lingering in the air. Breakfast was stale bread, salted beef, and mead, heated over the coals of a dying fire. Lydia stretched her legs while she ate. It was a good day.

The Thane of Whiterun seemed not to notice. He was sitting hunched over with a tin cup of mead cooling in his hand, staring ahead, at nothing, as though the life had been carved out of him.

Lydia kicked his boot, and he glanced at her like he'd forgotten she was there. "You can't sit here like this all day. My Thane," she added. They had been traveling together for nearly a month; her Thanes had faded into infrequency. He never indicated that he cared.

He looked deep into his cup, as if some answer were hiding in the bottom. "Will you go back to Whiterun and wait for me?"

With Whiterun came hot baths, fresh food, and lively company. As pleasant as it was to slay bandits and conquer mountaintops, ending each day covered in gore and glory, Lydia didn't need time to think. "Of course."

"Good." Her Thane poured the contents of his cup out on the ground. He started to rise, but hesitated, and leaned over to rest his blond head against hers for a moment, and then stood, tall and serious. Lydia felt a wave of affection for him. No one could call him warm - he hardly smiled and rarely spoke - but he had quiet ways of showing his thanks.

"I won't be long," he said, turning away.

"Be careful," Lydia answered, though the Dragonborn had little to fear, which was a good part of why she respected him. She packed her bedroll, collected her weapons, and left the camp.

Within a day she was nearly back to Whiterun. The plains stretched out below her; Dragonsreach was a shimmer on the horizon. She could hardly wait to drink with the guards, laugh at the Jarl's children, brag to Irileth of the things she had seen and the thieves she had slain. She was going down the mountain as fast as she could without breaking her neck, sliding on pine needles and pebbles.

Halfway down, a pale branch tripped her. There was nothing to catch; no desperate handholds to grab. She felt weightless for a moment, anchored to nothing, and then slammed face-first into the ground. A jutting boulder stopped her from smashing every bone in her body on the way down the mountain. She spat pine needles and dirt when she got up, rubbing her chin: she'd scraped it on something, though her armor had protected her from any other scratches.

And where was the damned thing that had done it to her? She stomped back up the slope, raking a hand through leaf-tangled hair - and there it was. A pale branch, she thought again; but now she saw that she was wrong. This branch was pale pink. Strips of wet red hung from the end, stringy muscle trailing over the dirt. A foot in a rough leather shoe was twisted at an unnatural angle.

She could not tell, coming closer, whether it was a man's or a woman's. The shoe was plain brown, the kind you could get for one or two gold. A farmer's shoe. As she was wondering where it had come from, and why it was there, she looked up.

A dark gaping mouth in the rock answered her.

The cave opening was narrow, but tall: many things could slide through it, dragging bloody trophies.

The Dragonborn would never shy from this. A true Nord would not run from this. She wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword, suddenly aware that her palm was cold with sweat, and pulled it from its scabbard.

The darkness closed around her, and the sounds of the wind behind her became quiet and muffled. Her nose adjusted faster than her eyes: the cave smelled like wet rock and something else, something foul, a humid rot that stuck in her throat and hung there, making her want to gag.

There was a pale blue light ahead. She moved forward.

A few steps in she put her foot down on an edge she couldn't see. The feeling of rocks sliding out and dragging her boot with them nearly made her drop her sword, and she inhaled sharply and pulled back. Had she been going faster, she would have fallen, and she couldn't tell how far the drop was.

Wow, just wow.

HOW IS THIS NOT ALREADY FILLED! Sorry it's just passerby want this so badly..

Male Stormcloak Dragonborn comes home to Hjerim only to discover that Calder is very (but not seriously) sick (think the flu or something). Being the nice guy and caring friend that he is, the Dragonborn puts "Taking care of Calder" at the top of his to do list. Calder is mortified at not being able to perform his normal housecarl duties, but is too weak to fight the Dragonborn off as he looks after him. Friendship and fluff, pretty please!

Bonus points for Ulfric finding out and having chicken soup delivered to Hjerim, either as a pure act of kindness or because he hopes it'll make Calder better sooner so the Dragonborn can do important Stormcloak things instead.

Gah, where's the rest?! Don't leave me hanging!

[I'm sorry guys, writing's a little awkward as I'm still getting used to the characters. Things should pick up and get better shortly!]

Waiting a moment to see if Farkas would say anything, when his silence continued, Kodlak spoke, turning back towards Nathalia.

"And how soon were you planning to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, before dawn, if that's not too soon?"

The last part was directed at Farkas- since he was the one who would be coming with her, she didn't want him unprepared because there hadn't been enough warning.

However, the sun had barely peaked over the horizon by the time she'd arrived on their steps, so surely almost an entire day would be enough time?

The Nord simply nodded once more. "That will be long enough." The fact that they'd likely been given far less warning and been demanded to leave that much faster didn't cross her mind in the slightest. After all, any exploration for any given cavern (at least, when the students were invited along) was planned days in advance.

A soft shiver ran down her spine as he'd finally spoke. Slightly surprised by this reaction, her eyes flicked about a moment more before settling back on the two men. Farkas was looking at her, and she tilted her head to the side, using her hood to obscure whatever expression was currently on her face. Nathalia also didn't take into consideration that it might be strange to keep her hood up- even indoors. It was simply a common practice among the college to keep them up if they were being worn. It could prove to give one the upper hand in battle- if the opponent couldn't predetermine what spell one would cast, (due to the hood obscuring the face, and by extension preventing the reading of lips) then they wouldn't be as prepare to counter it. Split second advantages had made and broken battles, from what the history books had to say on the subject.

"Are you staying at the Bannered Mare?" Her expression took a turn for surprised as to why he would care where she was staying until it dawned on her that he'd, of course, need to know where to find her in the morning.

"Yes, I am."

A second more of silence ensued, before Nathalia awkwardly nodded, her body bobbing in a way that seemed to be half a curtsey. "Thank you again... I have some things I need to do before we go, so I guess I'll leave..."

Though the way out was fairly straightforward, Kodlak escorted her back, and as the doors to Jorrvaskr shut softly behind her, an overwhelming sensation of relief came over her. That wasn't so bad, in hindsight... Though the entire conversation had been a bit stiff, but that was to be expected for a first interaction, right?

Putting the thoughts out from her mind, she wandered between the shops and stalls for a good part of the day, gathering odds and ends that she would need for various things; potions and the like. It wasn't until the sun was setting and the shopkeeps closing up that she headed back to the Mare- having purchased her room for the night that morning before going to the Companions, the mage silently weaved through the crowd, ignoring the call of a drunken man who seemed to not care that she was completely covered, and looked like a troll for all he knew. The warmth of the inn was a welcome contrast from the outside cold, which had taken a bitter turn when the sun sank down.

Once in her room, she stopped for a moment, before locking the door and crawling into bed. Despite the noise, she was quickly asleep, dead to the world.

Fwee~ glad to hear you're enjoying it ^^

Alternate reality with a "sane" Cicero and his relationship as Keeper with the Dragonborn Listener. Would love to see him written as dark and intense. Would also love it if his relationship with the Listener was all dark, twisted love and obssession (and she feels the same) where he is dominate or has the upperhand.

Nord/Imperial/Breton race pref for DB.

Squicks: Scat, character death, humiliation

Okay this prompt has been pootling around my brain for a while - I can't recall seeing one like it here.

What I would love is for a F!Dragonborn who has the Beast Blood and has a Companion Werewolf Spouse to have some truly epic sex. And after the epic sex she realises she's pregnant with a were!baby. And she freaks out, leaving Jorrvaskr to figure out how she'll deal with motherhood and stuff. Eventually she ends up in Bloated Man's Grotto, using Hircine's Ring to keep the Beast Form as much of the time as she can, while bonding and being bros with Sinding.

Companion!Werewolf!Spouse eventually follows her trail to the Grotto. What happens next?

Bonuses: Breton or Imperial DB for size kink shenanigans (maybe why she likes being werewolf while carrying a MASSIVE Nord!baby *cough*~~or massive Nord!twin!babies~~*coughcough*)

Sinding giving her lessons in how to be a werewolf - whether she needs them or not (I imagine repeated "I *know*, Sinding! *eyeroll*")

Lots of horny preggo!sex in a variety of positions, with DB topping from the bottom and being all bossy.

Were!Puppies!!!!

Please Anons? I love the idea, but I can't do it justice with the fills I'm working on. *were!puppy-eyes*

THIS. I need this in my life, like yesterday.

Why does this sound like it's tailored as a Dyce fill? =)

OP definitely wouldn't mind if it turned into a Dyce fill. Dyce is lovely :)

“Of course I will help you cure yourself.” The Bosmer whispered, leaning forward. “How could I resist a man in need?”

Vilkas flushed under the tree's shade, it brought the elf back to his far younger days and he couldn't help but laugh... Wooing shy, curious elves to the shade of the Valenwood canopy.

"then we leave tomorrow, as soon as the sun rises" Vilkas did a doubletake, his mind racing with the realization that this was really happening-and so soon! He could feel a pressure building up immediately behind his eyes, seeing the Bosmer take out his quill and jot something into a ragged book from his pouch.

"T-tomorrow? Very well, I'll see to it that the rest of the Companions will know of our excursion." He got a faint nod from the mer, Vilkas pushing himself to stand and seeing the artist smiling up to him with a tilted head. He was quite happy to realize that he'd be able to close another dark chapter in the knight's life.

But as they slept in their separate quarters that night, prepared for the morn, each had their nagging doubts. What if the beastblood was what drew the Mer so much to Vilkas? what if his fire extinguished in his soul and that exotic darkness inside him is gone? He wouldn't let those doubts get in the way of saving the poor man's life, but it would be a terrible shame..

And Vilkas fretted over his safety tomorrow, what if something went wrong? What if Ysgramor won't see him worthy? Vilkas didn't sleep a wink that night, eyes open and staring blankly as his thoughts drifted to the mer. Gods, he was a wreck right now. He could only hope tomorrow will leave them safe and for the better.

dawn broke. Paint was fresh on Vilkas' face and plumes of vapor puffed from each breath as the two climbed onto the saddles and rode north. Past sparse fields, past empty tundra dotted with nothing more than starving wolves and bandits alike.

Ysgramor's tomb was no short ride, but the day was young and there where no steeds swifter than the Companion's. Vilkas and his harbinger rode side by side, in uncomfortable silence with Vilkas' nervous mind refusing to calm. Hours went by with no more words than a few idle remarks, the Bosmer's sporadic jokes, an occasional response from the Nord. The stress was clear on his face and it only seemed to deepen the later it got. They rode past Dawnstar until with a curse the Bosmer looked up, scrunching his nose "Shit, looks like a snowstorm. We can't go very far in this, Vilkas. We're going to need to stop for the night in Winterhold."

Thank the gods, Vilkas thought. He spent the entire ride steeling himself for now, he didn't think he would have been ready given the time. When they rode in to Winterhold, the snow whited out all but the southern walls of the wasting city. Snow froze solid to the tips of the bosmer's dreads, dripping immediately as they stabled the horses and kicked their boots against the doorframe of The Frozen Hearth. Vilkas' nose crinkled when an odd stench passed his nostrils, making his head throb in discomfort.

“We'll stay here for the night, so why don't you make yourself comfortable?” It's been a while since he stayed at an inn, and even longer since he'd been treated to dinner. The elf bought him a stiff drink and the most expensive food- he almost felt too overwhelmed to even eat. “You really do not have to go through all this trouble, Harbinger. I'm happy enough for you just accompanying me.”

“Nonsense, Vilkas. The Bosmer's genuine smile made the worried Nord lean back in his chair, relaxing his back. “I would go far beyond just dinner and drinks to ease your mind. Perhaps I can write you a sonnet? A massage?” He heard Vilkas scoff and roll his eyes, bringing the ale to his lips. He really was sexy without even trying, and the gentle teasing seemed to make the young man unwind.

“I mean it! Let's take off those boots, I'll rub your feet for you.” He lent forward, hands reaching out to the Nord's sexy legs, only to see him tuck them under his own chair and something of a chuckle passed his lips. “Oh, come off it!” Vilkas laughed, pushing the mer's arms away “

“I do” He chirped, enjoying the red at Vilkas' ears as firelight lit up his impressive jawline. “But I also want another drink..”

Are you gonna leave it there??!! Yikes!!! Come on give me some more!!! Please???

((edit: at the very end I forgot to add Vilkas' quote “...pushing the mer's arms away. “You just want a touch.””))

The Mer had water droplets trailing along the floor both when he left and returned with two frothing mugs of dark ale. “Here you are,” Vilkas took it even if he was full and distending in his armor “This is quite a big night for you, but I don't want to bring up what's obvious.” Oh please, Vilkas hoped he wasn't going to go so far into it.. he was just starting to gain an iota of comfort amidst the tension.

“But I say we should make a toast..” He hopes this will raise the mans spirits, seeing him reluctantly raise his mug “to your final night as one of the damned.” Somehow hearing it that way made Vilkas' stomach tight. He didn't know what to say..

But the artist leaned in, his elven features striking and his smile alluringly playful. “Here's to hoping you keep that animal passion within you.” His adams apple bobbed with a heavy pull of his ale, and Vilkas felt weak, and stammered “Ah...I- ah.” The artist truly hopes he doesn't lose that part of him.

Whatever snide remark the Bosmer was expecting from the Nord didn't come, for the tall man merely took another swig and stood, eyes on their shared inn room. “I really don't think I should be drinking any more if we are serious about this. Let's just call it a night so I can try to prepare my soul again.” He really didn't want any more weighing on his mind, he just wanted it over with.

Their room was small with one two-person bed, large cabinets and chests for the men while they silently undid their armor, cleaned their weapons of beast gore. They did so one at a time, the Bosmer seated on the bed to give the Nord enough space to remove his pauldrons, slip out of the cuisse and placard. The bosmer really didn't know what to say, seeing that Vilkas had forfeit their playful flirting to brood once again. The poor man.

Thoughts raced through Vilkas' mind until he was stripped down to his smalls, his hairy chest exposed and milky skin seemingly absorbing candle light. These nord men always covered their bodies, skin virgin to the touch of the sun. With a nod the younger man sat on their shared bed, nervously eyeing the Bosmer and his bronze skin, the tattoos burned into his body in what books had described as a barbarian jungle ritual. But even sights like this could not break his mind away from the pressure of what awaited them the moment the snow settled..

“Can I turn out the light?” His voice shook him from thought, the bosmer noticed he was staring at his legs but he looked far from happy- or even a bit intrigued. Honestly he couldn't be dejected, there was a lot weighing on Vilkas' mind- he wont flirt anymore. Not tonight.

“Yes, go on.” there was almost no light but the shine of the snow against the moon now. Vilkas laid down on his side, facing the wall and his legs under the furs. The bedframe creaked as the body of the other man settled into it, a short but tangible distance between them both. The mer groaned, wriggled and laid flat, Vilkas could tell he was facing away.

“Goodnight, Vilkas.”

“Mmm..”

It happened. He could feel the wolf inside scratching to get out, his mind struggling to push down the doubt and the shame- the worry that Kodlak's spirit would haunt him. He stayed awake for long moments, feeling uncomfortable and alone while the other man slept. But he wasn't sleeping. Vilkas heaved a big sigh and the Bosmer's eyes opened, knowing the turmoil that must be in his muses' heart.

His body turned in the bed, seeing Vilkas' back silhouetted in blue. He watched the man's breathing, can taste his fear no matter how well he hid it.

“Everything's going to be alright, Vilkas.” He whispers. The nord's heart skipped a beat, his throat randomly tight. He turned slowly to face the bosmer, looking him in the eyes. Such compassion, it was a simple remark but it was all the reassurance he's been aching for.

“With you by my side, nothing could go wrong.”

Neither wished for that distance between them, suffering in quiet silence wishing they could kiss the other, but it doesn't happen.

Vilkas doesn't sleep a wink that night, choosing instead to watch as the mer's black eyes flutter shut when he just couldn't stay awake any longer. Vilkas didn't tear away, thoughts floundering between dedication and faith, family and love. He wished he could cling to the other man tonight like a diamond faceted to a ring.

When those mer eyes opened again, sunlight was beaming into their room, and Vilkas was halfway done with putting his armor on. The Nord turns to him, his jaw set and dedication in his eyes. With a nod, they know today will be the day.

“Let's go.”

(Liking it so far? Action coming up next!)

EHEHE~ Needz more, wonderful A!A!!

MORES! Please?

Is "pup" Vilkas?

Love it so far yes, yes!!!!! I can feel Vilkas's anxiety one hundred percent I'm working on the companion's quest line and I await the time when Vilkas as me to cleanse him. I want to see how you handle his transformation.

Long prompt is long.

So, a smidge of back story on CoM so you know what I'm talking about. Basically, it's a movie where women have stopped having babies. Just, completely, no babies(not of their own accord) This has resulted in everyone having this weird obsession with kids because there aren't any anymore; it's to the point of like a cult following. (Everyone knows, down to the DAY, when the last child was born (22 years, 3 months, 6 days, etc.)) And there's this war between two factions. Well, this one lady ends up pregnant, and all hell breaks loose, with those two sides vying for her since OBVIOUSLY, if you have the mother and child, you have the people. Have the people, have the war.

And while I know this is simply due to the game developers not wanting to take the time and vary up the ages, but it's like, adults of varying ages, and 10 year olds. Skyrim's not exactly hospitable. There's not even a mention of an infant. I've seen bigger stretches on the meme.

For the sake of coherency, I will be writing the actual prompt with an F!DB+M!LI, but will label the deviations I am a-okay with at the end.

So, F!DB lives in Skyrim, and there's this undercurrent of worry about the fact that ladies just shut down their reproductive bits around ten years or so ago. They settle down with an M!LI of choice, and the war is still going, because of reasons.

Welp, she winds up pregnant, and all of Skyrim looses their shit. What happens next? You tell me! Is there a cult following with offerings of sweet roles? People putting offerings on her to her husband in the hopes she'll be sold so they can have a child of their own? Thalmor or Stormcloaks get to interested in F!DB's affairs?

TL;DR: DB lives in Skyrim during the war, and for some reason, there haven't been children for over ten years. Cue DB being pregnant- how does Skyrim react?

Deviations that are a-okay;
M!DB+F!LI
F!DB+F!LI (either sperm donor -despite the obvious flaw in this logic, but two ladies can hope, right?-, or someone has a penis. Whatever)
M!DB+M!LI+F!Surrogate of choice (again, ignore the obvious flaw in logic if that's the path you want to take)

Race=unimportant. Bring on the beast races if that's what you're feeling.

Squicks: Bathroom things, M!preg. Sorry ._.

Bonus round*optional*: LI gets serious shit from the community for sleeping with their pregnant DB (it might hurt the baby!)

I need to *not* fill this, despite how amazingly wonderful this prompt is, and I love all it stands for, as this anon has too many fills currently.

Seconded like burning!

Please someone *u*

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 41 of 270

Meme Announcements!

Re: dicks dicks dicks

Re: Never Our Tenderness (F!/DB Imperial/Ulfric Stormcloak) – 8f/?

Purity 1 (M!DB/Vilkas)

Re: Thalmor M!Altmer/F!Imperial

Tunneldown 1/??

Re: Never Our Tenderness (F!/DB Imperial/Ulfric Stormcloak) – 8f/?

Re: Dominant Cicero/submissive M! Listener

M!DB + Calder - taking care of a sick housecarl

Re: Purity 1 (M!DB/Vilkas)

Before the Dawn 3/?

Re: Before the Dawn 2b/?

Sane!Cicero/F!DB

F!Werewolf!DB/M!Werewolf!Spouse + Sinding

Re: M!DB + Calder - taking care of a sick housecarl

Re: M!DB + Calder - taking care of a sick housecarl

Re: M!DB + Calder - taking care of a sick housecarl

Purity 2

Re: Purity 1 (M!DB/Vilkas)

Purity 3a

Purity 3b

Re: Purity 1 (M!DB/Vilkas)

Re: Journal of an old warrior

Re: Purity 3b

Children of Men inspired prompt (any/f!any)

Re: Ondolemar damns it all! Ondolemar/humanF!DB