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: Clear Skies 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

The hot spring, after so many days of travelling and fighting, was utter bliss. A small whimper slipped out as I sank gratefully down into dark waters, the heat easing the aches and pains and releasing some of the tension in my muscles. And for the first time since crossing into this icebox of a country I was warm. If they could just get rid of the egg smell then I would just stay here. Forever. Screw those pesky dragons. Eventually, however, the pruning of my fingers and toes and the rumble of my stomach told me it was time to leave. Flakes of snow were being to spiral down, suggesting that we'd brought the bad weather with us. Feeling much cleaner I threw on my undershirt and boots, shoving my smelly and blood-covered leathers into my pack to clean tomorrow. If Lydia was here she'd nag me until I cleaned them. Heading back through the Inn the well dressed Orsimer in the corner gave me a sniff of disproval at my choice of attire but I was past caring. I made a quick stop at the bar and paid for four bottles of BlackBriar mead, far too sickly for my taste but hopefully strong enough to drown out the worst of the beast-blood and make me forget that I was sharing the room with Grumpy-Face. And also, hopefully, a partial truce offering. Vilkas wasn't in the common room and the serving wench who had brought us our drinks told me, in between giggles and blushes, that he had headed up to our room.

The tiny narrow room was barely big enough for two narrow cots and a worn beside table sandwiched between them. Above that was a dirty window paned with thick whorled glass. The room was also cold and smelled slightly of damp, though it didn't seem to bother Vilkas. He was stretched out on his bed, also much cleaner and wearing a dark linen shirt and trousers, book in hand. I noted the title with a small snort of amusement; The Dragonborn Comes. "Here." I gently lobbed him his two bottles. He nodded and broke open the wax and cork on one, taking a long sip, before returning to his book. It was strange, I'd never seen him out of armour. Even at Jorrvaskr the Companions tended to live in their armour on a day-to-day basis, either for training or protection whilst out on errands. He'd even washed off the war paint and he looked...younger, less intense.

Kicking off my boots and dumping my pack and armour at the foot of my bed, I vaulted onto it to sit cross legged, wrapping myself in the damp smelling blanket and pulling out my journal to flick through the long list of tasks I still had to do. At least I can cross out 'Get revenge on the Silver Hand for killing Kodlak-the bastards.' Just looking at the list depressed me so I slammed it shut and shoved back in the bottom of my pack and then shoving the pack under the bed in the vain hope that 'if I can't see it then it's not there.' I could still feel it though, like a weight on my mind, lurking, nagging me to get on with it. It even had a voice that sounded just like Delphine's. So I tried to drown it out with another swig of mead. My thoughts were still swirling as we sat there in silence, both sipping on BlackBriar Mead. Mostly I was thinking about the last few days and Kodlak's death, a small Delphine-voiced part of my brain was nagging me about getting on with the whole saving-the-world-thing and a much larger part than I wanted to admit was concerned with the man sat on the bed opposite me. What I couldn't figure out was why he hated me. Or even why he annoyed me so much. Nobody treated me the way he did. Not since I'd become the Dragonborn and supposed saviour of Tamriel. Sure I'd done some bad things in the past but I was trying to make a difference now. That has to count for something, right? Because if it doesn't then what's the point? Even after I thought I'd proven myself, completed hundreds of the fetch-and-carry/hunt-the-criminal tasks that he'd set me and won the respect of the other members of the Circle, he still ignored me. And I wanted his approval. His respect. For some reason, it mattered to me.