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

Re: Fire and Potions - 69/?

[(Anonymous)]

Gently, he laid his fingers on Therion’s cheek, and explored his face in the same way the elf touched his own. Following the curve of his neck, and tracing the point of his ears, he let his fingers brush across the planes of his face, all the while their lips remained achingly close, but never quite touching.
Therion let out a small sigh of bliss.
"I don't want to hurt you, Farengar," he whispered, his breath soft and warm against his mouth. "But I don't want to stay away from you, either."
Farengar felt light headed, his lips drawing closer to Therion's of their own accord as if magnetized.
"And how exactly, would you hurt me?" he asked in a whisper.
Therion tantalizingly brushed his lips across Farengar's in the ghost of a kiss.
"I was serious when I said I won't outlive you," Therion whispered back, lovingly taking down Farengar's hood and massaging his fingers through his brown hair at the base of his scalp.
Farengar made an appreciative sound, while his own hands rested comfortably on either side of Therion's face.
"You're the one that's going to outlive me by several hundred years," Farengar said, shaking his head, as a painful déja vu came over him, making his heart race. "You're going to get bored of me. Hate watching me age-"
Therion silenced him with a kiss.
"You talk too much," the Dragonborn murmured against his lips. "I could live a thousand years and never grow tired of you."
Farengar stiffened, then recoiled.
Therion grunted as Farengar shoved him away, the Dragonborn slipping across the roof’s tiles, knocking several loose which crashed on the street below, before he could recover his footing.
Lies. All lies, Farengar thought. He needed to escape. Pulling on his hood, he turned away, trying to find the quickest way back down to the window.
With lithe grace, Therion sprang to his feet.
"Before you storm off,” Therion said, grinning as the wizard paused. “There's just one thing I have to tell you."
Don’t say it, Farengar thought. Don’t say you love me...
"You're a fool," Therion said.
Farengar stopped in his tracks, whirling around to look at the smirking elf.
"What?"
"When we first met," Therion said, "You told me, 'the true mark of a fool is a man who dismisses anything outside his experience as being impossible.' Clearly, you're a fool."
Farengar was too stunned to object as Therion walked up and pulled him back to rest against his forehead.
"You don't think anyone's feelings can be real, just because it's outside your experience," Therion said, thinking on everything Balgruuf had told him of Farengar's Dunmer ex-fiancée. "You know exactly how I feel. I told you in dovahzul. And you are far too clever to not to have worked it out.”
“Which is it?” Farengar growled. “Am I clever or am I fool?”
“Care to find out?” Therion asked. Before Farengar could reply, Therion trapped his lips in a kiss.
Farengar tried to refuse, but Therion responded by tipping him back in his arms, taking away his balance. Gradually, his muffled sounds of protest gave way, and he relaxed in the Dragonborn’s arms, his eyes slipping shut.
He returned Therion’s kiss, feeling the elf sweep his hood down once more and caress the back of his head with loving tenderness. There was a feeling behind each kiss and caress, an undeniable intensity, communicating Therion’s fondness and devotion. All for him. Farengar’s heart ached in bitter sweet agony. For once, he fervently wished it would continue to do so.
He trembled ever so slightly and Therion placed his lips by his ear, whispering sweet nothings in the Ayleid tongue.
“Angue cyrche melor e ti’elda, Farengar,” he said, translating, “My heart will always be yours, Farengar.”
He couldn’t say how long they stayed locked together.
When orange-red light pressed against his eyes, he curiously opened them, wondering why Therion was shaping fire, but he found Therion’s confused expression, glancing skyway.
The night sky was suddenly bright as day above Solitude, as fire appeared overhead, forming a circle. Humming filled the air, like the build up of magicka before the crack of a spell. Farengar watched in fascination as currents of magicka built up and erupted in a shower of electrical sparks.