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: What happens in Markarth stays in Markarth 2

[(Anonymous)]

“Don’t underestimate her. They probably call her that for a reason.” Ondolemar looked away and walked towards the kitchen, the scent of grilled venison and garlic stronger the closer he got. He was about to tumble over the two dogs that for some reason had it as their main purpose in life to pester him. If they weren’t in the way, they were barking or begging for scraps.
“Stupid dogs”, he muttered and smirked, scratched one of the big hairy animals behind its ear as he passed. At least they were clever enough to not utter their idiocy in words.

Ondolemar stopped in the door to the kitchen, leaned towards the doorframe with his arms crossed. The sizzling sound of meat being cooked over an open fire was far more pleasant than the hammering and grinding of the machinery that this city was built upon, and Understone Keep was never quiet. The chef; a small Breton with huge white mutton chops stood with his back turned against the door, stirring a stew.
“You have to chop the onion tinner, Voada, this does not do”, he said with a loud voice.
“Yes, of course”, a woman replied, without looking up from her work. She sat on a bench pulling off the skin of a rabbit.
“Anton, you don’t suppose you could dispense with an apple?” Ondolemar asked from the door.
The chef looked up from the pot he was stirring in, dropped the wooden spoon with a clank and dried his hands on his apron as he turned around. “Oh, I didn’t hear you coming. Of course, help yourself”, he answered, “They’re in that bowl over there.”
Ondolemar nodded a thank you and grabbed a big green one, shiny as if it had been polished. He took a big bite and returned to his pacing. A courier should show up, either today or tomorrow, hopefully with new orders. This had become stagnant and they needed to move forward, especially since the Stormcloaks seemed to have a good hand in this little thing the humans called civil war. It would be easier to just let them kill each other off, but that was just Ondolemar’s opinion.