Meme Announcements!

[skyrimkinkmeme]

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

Comments

Nice Ink 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

tags: es:skyrim, char:erandur, char:F!PC, race:dunmer, race:altmer, relationship:het, kink:tattoo, kink:age_difference

“For the Reach!”

Erandur didn't have time to react. The twin swords of the Forsworn warrior ripped right through his feeble robes and cut him deep in his sides. With a grunt, he fell to his knees, hands rushing to his wounds to try and curb the blood flow. He looked up at the maniacal woman in front of him. She was dirty and savage; animalistic. And she was about to kill him.

He bowed his head. “May Mara forgive you, my child, as she forgave me,” he murmured.

“Save it for yourself,” the Reachwoman sneered. “I don’t believe in your false gods.”

She raised her swords. Erandur waited for the killing blow.

“ZUN HAAL VIIK!”

The spiny weapons flew right out of the confused Breton’s hands. She turned, only to meet a black gauntlet curled into a fist. The Forsworn was knocked off her feet. She didn’t have time to scrabble for her swords, because she was too busy dodging angry lightening strikes. She managed to grab one of her swords, only to have her wrist smashed by a pointed Daedric boot.

“I would not recommend it,” the woman towering above her whispered. Her face was covered in shadow by a dark hood, and all the terrified Breton could think was that she had met Death herself. She shut her eyes, expecting her painful end, but it didn’t come. Instead, the shadow leaned in close and hissed, “You have twenty seconds to get out of my sight, before I show you a real shout.”

The crippled Forsworn didn’t need a second warning. As fast as she could manage, she scrambled to her feet and ran away as quickly as her feet would carry her. She didn’t look back and wasn’t sure where she was going, but she just kept running, trying to put distance between her and the frightening apparition that spared her life.

Erandur watched as the Forsworn woman crossed out of sight over a hill and turned to his Altmer companion with a smile. “That was very merciful of you, Sinnowe. Stendarr would be proud.” His smile soured as he started to feel the stab of his wounds. “Ooh,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Erandur!” Sinnowe rushed to his side and immediately started her healing magic. Running a hand over one of his sides, she smiled. “These wounds are superficial, Erandur. She just grazed you,” she said with a small smirk.

Erandur opened one tired eye. “Are you implying I’m just making this pain up?” he said sternly, though there was a playful note in his voice. “I may be old, but I’m not crazy.”

“No one said that,” Sinnowe tutted. “Now sit still so I can heal you and we can leave this fetid den of savages.” Erandur did as he was told and soon all of his wounds were closed up. She paused, running her hand on one of his sides, tracing the lines he knew were there, but it was brief. An accident, surely. She made a small humming noise and stood up.

Erandur grabbed Sinnowe’s offered hand and stood as well. “Shall we head back to Dragon’s Bridge? Or would you prefer to sleep in one of these lovely Forsworn-infested holes tonight?” she asked.

“For such an educated woman, you ask a lot of silly questions,” he retorted, following her as she started to climb down from the camp in far less pain than before. He smiled to himself. Restoration may have been her “weakest skill” (in her words) but she was leaps and bounds better than your average Temple healer.

Her bedside manner, however, really needed some work, he mused.