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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.

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Comments

Alone (M!DB/Romlyn) (43/?)

[(Anonymous)]

He wouldn't have needed twenty ancient dragon souls that considered the very existence of mortals an affront to their dignity to get furious at that. Even without the wolf's mad thirst for blood he would have wanted to cut her up for that. Even if he hadn't spent the last weeks crawling through the mud and participating in three successful sieges he would not have been ready to deal with this shit today.

"You insolent brat!"

Serano wanted to believe that he wouldn't have killed Runa even if Romlyn hadn't chosen that exact moment to snatch the dagger from his hand, bravely choosing to draw Serano's ire on himself. They both knew that the altmer didn't need a weapon to kill anyone, and Romlyn took it one step further: He tackled Serano to the ground and made sure he stayed down by straddling him.

Everyone present was equally shocked that the dunmer had dared to do that that. Now that Serano lay on the floor beneath him he didn't seem to know what he should do next; some part of Serano got strangely excited at his nervous shifting and started considering that he was in the perfect position to ride Serano.

Now Romlyn held the dagger. Naturally he was bright enough not to turn it against him, but he didn't let go of it either; instead he chose to keep it close by his side.

"If I were you", Serano whispered between gritted teeth, "I would think carefully about my next move."

Just being put into this position, on his back and at the mercy of one who couldn't be considered his equal, caused his dragon soul to rage against its weak, mortal cage. He hadn't been forced into submission for quite some time, and none of the monsters inside his head relished the feeling very much.

He needed to punish this man, he knew, to bash his head in with his bare hands, to burn him alive with his magic, to tear him apart, to break every last bone in his body before he granted him the relief of death, to keep him as his prisoner and plaything until he tired of him, to-

He wanted to do all that, except that he didn't, shouldn't want that...

And then there was the wolf which had its very own approach to teaching Romlyn his place.

It wasn't just rage he felt. The dragons he had defeated still struggled to comprehend the concept of mortality, and when he found himself in a position in which a mere mortal was perfectly capable of taking his life he felt an irrational fear of death that threatened to drive him insane. He was scared of dying, but he knew that Romlyn would never hurt him.

He was scared but trusted his spouse, wanted to kill him even though he didn't, had to fuck him even though he didn't feel like it. His thoughts didn't make sense anymore.

The resulting headache was the worst he had suffered so far. It felt like he was going to die, or at least as if dying would be preferable to enduring this suffering. He wanted nothing more than to crack his own skull open and drag whatever lived there out of his head, if that was what it took to make the blinding pain disappear.

It was all he could do to just lie there motionlessly and watch as Romlyn leaned forward and started to wipe his face clean of their daughter's spit with his sleeve.

"What are you doing?!", he snarled. It took his addled mind a few seconds to comprehend the pointless act of kindness.

Careful, gentle swipes across his nose and his cheeks caused the pressure to ease somewhat. For some reason he was reminded of his most recent near-death experience and its aftermath, when this man had nursed him back to health with calm, patient devotion. He remembered slipping in and out of consciousness; at first it had been impossible to distinguish reality from his dreams, and his memories were hazy at best, but he knew that this man had been there when he needed him.