Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: 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
"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 5a/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit
Date: 2013-01-31 05:12 am (UTC)Kathryn is up and dressed before he is even awake. She kneels on the bed beside him and pokes him until he’s awake enough to swat her hands away. She laughs, and he grumbles, catching her around the middle and tugging her back down into bed beside him. And damn but isn’t she the best thing he’s ever felt in his arms. She’s soft and warm and she smells so good. He doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want to leave this bed.
“Roliand,” her voice is stern, but she’s snuggling closer. Her ass rubs against his morning wood, and he groans. His lips find the bare skin at the nape of her neck, and he hears her breath catch. “Roliand, wake up.”
This time she is tugging herself out of his arms, and he reluctantly admits that it is perhaps for the best. Things are complicated enough already, without him acting like some besotted fool. He kicks the blankets away, and squints at her.
She’s half-dressed, wearing the combination of leather and cotton that she layers under her armor. He sees her contemplating the elven cuirass, and he realizes that she’s been waiting for him to help her into it.
The smell of bacon draws his attention to the bedside table, where she’s placed a slice of cheese, and a rasher of bacon wrapped in a roll.
“For you.” Kathryn’s smile is nervous, and he finds it frustratingly endearing. He doesn’t like the way his stomach flops when she looks at him like that. Instead of contemplating the reactions she evokes, he stuffs the roll in his mouth and begins digging through his bag. He doesn’t have much, just some necessities and his armor.
He wears scaled armor these days, and every time he gets into another fight, he’s grateful for that. It’s significantly better than the hide he wore once. It’s strange to think of how being on the “right” side of the law is less profitable, but he has better quality belongings anyway. His armor is actually crafted to fit his body. That’s probably the best part, right there. He isn’t just wearing the castoffs he’s picked up from his latest victims.
Once he’s fully dressed, he helps Kathryn into hers. He’s as careful as he can be, yet he still hits her hand at least once, eliciting a hiss of pain that makes him wince. He wants to take her into his arms and kiss her until she doesn’t remember her pain, but this is not the time.
He easily lifts his pack, settling it across his shoulders, and when she is done doing the same, they are ready to go.
As they leave the city, Roliand gets some perspective on just how well known Kathryn is. She’s greeted by a fair number of guards, some of them more friendly than others. They’re most of the way across the bridge out of Windhelm when he makes the connection between the friendlier guards and how easily she fell into bed with him.
His gut twists.
She’s had sex with those men, and he can tell from the casual way she reacts to them that she has no feelings for them. He wonders if they’re as in love with her as he is.
Because he is in love with her. The jealousy that wrenches his heart, and the pain that he feels when he realizes it is probably not mutual confirms it for him as nothing else can. He’s in love with her, and to her he’s just a good lay. One that can protect her on the way to Whiterun.
"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 5b/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit
Date: 2013-01-31 05:13 am (UTC)“A horse would halve the amount of time it takes to get to Whiterun,” he points out as they near the stables.
“No, I don’t think so.” She pales, and her eyes dart over the creatures in the stables. He’s too angry to laugh as he realizes she’s afraid of horses. Of all the ridiculous things... but he doesn’t press the matter. Just because he’s done something stupid and fallen for the girl doesn’t mean that he’s got any right to be mean to her.
As tempting as that might be.
He lets the conversation drop, and Kathryn seems to sense something, because she’s eyeing him quizzically.
He smirks at her, and then they’re on their way. They follow the river south for a few hours, walking along the road in relative silence. It’s not awkward, precisely, but he wouldn’t say it’s an entirely comfortable silence. He’s too busy thinking, berating himself for being so stupid, and she seems to be off in her own world.
That’s when the Troll attacks them.
It goes straight for Kathryn, and she’s throwing fire at it. He didn’t even know she was a magic wielder. Roliand files that mentally in the category of “things we need to discuss” before he steps in and decapitates the distracted troll. Kathryn steps back, and wipes some stray blood off her cheek.
“You’re a mage?” He’s bewildered, and it’s clear in his voice. He doesn’t understand why she hasn’t said anything about it, why she’s unable to make this trip alone. And yet, he’s still grateful that she’s asked him to escort her, because for all his hurt and confusion, he’s glad to spend time with her.
“Uh,” she hesitates, and looks away, as if she can’t quite face him. “Yeah, I know some basic spells.”
“Oh.” He starts walking, and this time she’s the one trailing behind him. He wonders if he should explain that he’s not angry, or if he should let her think about it before he says anything.
The silence has become painfully awkward when they see the abandoned shack with the bear inside. Roliand looks back at Kathryn, and sees her readying a crossbow. A crossbow. The woman is as deadly as she is stupid, clearly, because a single crossbow bolt is certainly not going to fell a bear.
“Kat,” he whispers the warning, and she glances his way sharply. When her eyes are on him, he shakes his head and places his finger to his lips. Discretion is the better part of valor, and while he’s sure he can handle the bear, he’s not big on starting fights he doesn’t have to.
Which is funny, if you consider his previous line of work.
They’re safely out of range of the bear in the shack when they encounter another bear. Roliand rolls his eyes, and draws his sword, taking a few long steps. Before the bear is even aware of his presence, his sword is digging into the soft spot at the back of its neck, and stabbing through its head easily. The bear is dead almost immediately, and as painlessly as he can manage.
Kathryn stares at him, her green eyes wide with surprise. He’s not sure whether he should be insulted, because he’s fairly certain she’s surprised he’s such an efficient killer. A man in his line of work doesn’t stay alive for long if he’s not efficient though, and Roliand is better than most at killing. He’s not sure if he can explain that without sounding like a monster.
“That was,” she pauses, seems to be thinking. “Impressive.”
Then she’s digging in her bag with her left hand, and coming up with a small dagger. She pries at the bear’s claws, and he watches as she loses her grip on the dagger, her left hand as clumsy today as it was yesterday. But this dagger is a lot more likely to hurt her than that spoon was, so he steps in.
“I need those for alchemy,” she says, and once again he is surprised. Apparently there’s a lot about her that he doesn’t know, and could not have guessed.
“Alright,” he removes them and gives them to her. She’s a bit clumsy putting them into her bag, but he doesn’t interfere. It’s not his place.
"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 5c/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit
Date: 2013-01-31 05:14 am (UTC)“You’re in no condition,” he warns her, but she laughs, and presses on. He’s tempted to stop her bodily. Imperials aren’t known for their size, and Kathryn is true to her race. She stands a good 6” shorter than him, and her build is slight relative to most other human females. Her hand is on the door when he decides that really is the best course of action.
He swoops in grabs her, and tosses her over his shoulder. She’s light enough, even in armor, that he manages to walk away with her without a problem. She struggles, flailing a bit. One hand beats against his back, she kicks her feet a bit. He hefts her a bit better, and moves his hand so it’s resting upon her ass. The next time her fist hits his back, he slaps her butt. She gasps.
“Put me down, you oaf!” She’s using her haughtiest voice, and he just can’t take it seriously. He knows she’ll get her revenge for this indignity somehow, but right now he just doesn’t think it matters.
He crosses the river carefully, doing his best to ensure that her head stays above water, and then he’s climbing the hill on the far side, using one hand to maintain balance while he moves. His other hand is up under the “skirt” of her armor, where the only thing between his palm and her flesh is the thin leather of her pants.
“There’s a body over there in that house!” She says, squirming against him once more. He smacks her rear, feels her tense, and hears the gasp.
“Hold still or I might drop you.”
“You wouldn’t.” She’s so certain of this that he feints it. She shrieks, and then she’s clinging to him, and he’s laughing. “You bastard!”
“Aye, princess. A right bastard I am.”
About a quarter mile down the road, he gingerly sets her on her feet. She glares at him, and makes as if to slap him, but he catches her hand, turning it over and kissing her palm.
“You are in no condition to go exploring ruins right now.” Kathryn is looking at him with this blend of indignation and fascination that he finds disconcerting. “If you’d like to come back out here once you’re healed, you’re welcome to explore ruins to your heart’s content, but my job is to get you to Whiterun alive, and my professional opinion is that it is in your best interest to stay on the road.”
She stomps her foot, pivots on her heel, and storms away from him. If any other woman had done it, he’d have called her a spoiled child and left her there, but somehow, from Kathryn, he thinks it’s just adorable.
His heart aches for the farewell that he knows is coming in a few short hours. They’re not far from Whiterun. Not far at all. They’ll be there by sunset, and then he’ll be saying goodbye for the last time.
He’s made this mistake before, spending all his time, money, and energy trying to woo a woman who just didn’t feel the same way about him, who would never feel the same way. The difference between the foolish child who fell into that trap and the man he is now is a dozen years and a lifetime of experience.
He knows the landmarks as they approach and pass them. Recognizes each one. Some of them he knows because he’s been there, others from stories. He slows before they reach Valtheim towers, just inside Whiterun Hold. There are archers up on the catwalk, and doubtless other bandits inside. He wonders if Jameson still runs the crew there, and then he wonders if that matters. There’s bad blood between them, and with Kathryn hurt, he has no room to bargain.
“Stay put,” he says, drawing his sword once more. She makes a move to follow him, and he steps back. “Stay here, dammit. I’m going to go take care of this.”
Her lower lip juts, and he wonders if this is about to turn into a battle of wills. But then she sits, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She nods, and then he's gone.