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 - 74/?

[(Anonymous)]

“This was, I believe, a test,” he explained. “And general pettiness. The next time the Aldmeri Dominion - or more specifically, the Thalmor - employ their weapon, I don’t think it will be against a mere city. I think it will be to destroy Skyrim completely.”

The room fell silent as Quaranir’s words sunk in.

“Until we can locate the Thalmor and their Dwemer artifact,” Quaranir continued, “the Psijic Order will do everything in its power to protect and assist Skyrim any way we can.”

Balgruuf looked to Therion.

“Is he a friend of yours, Dragonborn?”

Therion snorted.

“Hardly. But I believe he’s sincere,” Therion said, glancing at Quaranir before tossing him back the Staff of Magnus. “You’re holding yourself together admirably, but no one can cast that much magic without it taking a toll - not even a Psijic monk. Go rest at my house while we clean up Solitude. I trust you know where everything is,” he added wryly.

“Implicitly,” Quaranir replied with the hint of a smile. He vanished into thin air, particles of light fading in his wake.

Proventus set to work organizing committees to take stock of the city, documenting reports of damage, while Balgruuf organized groups to tend the wounded and repairs. He tasked Irileth with organizing a defense of the weakened city, and the dark elf sprung into action, rounding up the guards with iron fervor.

Farengar and Therion, meanwhile, slumped down into two undamaged seats. Farengar felt they were both coming down from a lot of adrenaline and the experience of channeling The Eye, and welcomed a few moments of peace from the turmoil of the evening.

“Quite a night,” Therion said, running a hand through his hair.

“Mmm,” Farengar agreed sleepily, watching people rush around. Realistically the two of them were probably no longer needed, but it was difficult to leave things in such a state. “Thank you for earlier. You could have let me fall.”

“No. I couldn’t have,” Therion said, smiling at him. Jokingly he added, “I can’t sleep without you around. It’s bad for my complexion. Dark circles, you understand.”

Farengar smirked.

The world was absurd and the threat of destruction was looming, but right then, he wasn’t bothered. They had survived the night and claimed a victory in doing so. For now, exhilaration carried him through exhaustion. Surveying the ruins of the party he snorted, then broke into sleep deprived laughter.

“What?” Therion asked.

“It’s absurd, but,” he said, chest shaking with laughter as he rubbed his forehead, “I can’t help thinking, I’m relieved that party is over.”

Therion stared at him a moment, before chuckling, and finally laughing heartily along with him.

“I think I know what you mean,” he said. “Though, for my part, I enjoyed stealing you away from it. Things were going quite well until… well, you know.”

Farengar sighed and smiled despite himself.

“I must admit, I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in years, as when I’m with you,” he said.

Therion inhaled sharply.

“Oh? Are you finally admitting you’re in love with me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Farengar shook his head.

“You are incorrigible,” he said dismissively, a thoughtful frown on his face. “I don’t know that I believe in that concept as a whole. I do know I had more than enough of that emotion, when Arcadia laced my mead with a damn love potion.”

Therion’s expression was suddenly serious, his eyes dark.

“Alchemical ‘love’ is not real,” he said vehemently, fingers curling into fists. “There’s no free will. I could have convinced you to kill for me, and you would have. It’s nothing more than mental enslavement.”

Farengar snorted, a sarcastic remark already on his lips.

“Obsession, lack of free will, rash actions… And what would you call ‘real love’ then?” he asked rhetorically with a bitter laugh.

Therion replied without pause.

“What I feel when I’m with you.”

Farengar’s mouth hung agape, stunned into silence.

“You say things like that so casually,” he finally replied, trying to draw away from the topic.

“My words are anything but,” Therion said, leaning forward.