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
"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 12a/??
Date: 2014-04-03 09:02 pm (UTC)The tips of Brynjolf’s callused fingers teased sensitive skin and Audric squirmed. For his efforts, he was held even tighter. Gently, playfully, he bit the arm that ensnared him. Brynjolf pulled him along as he rolled onto his back; he stroked Audric’s hair, wandering along his shoulders and neck.
“What’s gotten into you, tonight?” he asked.
Audric chuckled. “Somehow, Bryn, I think you know.”
Brynjolf held him closer and nuzzled his ear. “Tell me, who were you thinking of tonight?”
Affronted, he pulled away. “What?”
“I’m not insulted!” Brynjolf waved his hands defensively. “Merely curious; you fucked like you were in love.”
He turned very red and rolled onto his side, facing away.
Brynjolf snaked a leg over his hip and pinned him, kissing his face. “I bet she’s beautiful.”
Audric huffed.
“Ah, my apologies, that was presumptuous. I’m sure he’s very handsome.” He pinched Audric’s side and didn’t mind too much when he was kicked in retribution. “What’s he like?”
“Damn it, Bryn.”
“Please, it isn’t as if I’m asking you to tell me the details – unless...are there any details?”
Groaning, Audric threw his head beneath his pillow.
“There aren’t! Well that’s new. So are you actually playing hard to get for once, or do you suppose your charm has run its course?” he teased. “Oh, but then...he might walk the narrower side of the street, if you catch my meaning.”
Audric sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not pursuing him.”
“Why not?”
“It would get...messy.”
Brynjolf growled and flipped Audric onto his stomach, covering him, biting his shoulder. “Messy can be good. But, if you can’t have it, you can always imagine it. So, tell me,” he tried again, “what’s he like?” He kissed Audric’s cheek and grabbed his wrists. “Fair or dark?”
“Fair!” Audric responded well to restraint, and he thought it awfully mean of Brynjolf to use that against him.
“Hmm, you have a type,” he laughed. “Fair like me?”
“Not quite,” he murmured, “lighter.”
“Is he big?”
Audric rolled his eyes. “He’s a Nord.”
Keeping him pinioned, Brynjolf whispered against his neck, just beneath his ear, “So, imagine your big, fair, undoubtedly handsome Nord friend, right now, on top of you like I am.” He grinned while Audric whined. “I bet you’d want him to kiss you, huh?”
“Gods, yes.”
“Here?” Brynjolf kissed him lightly on the cheek. He was rewarded with a dissatisfied grumble. “Or perhaps here.” On the corner of his mouth, this time. Audric tried to nuzzle him back but he withdrew. “No, you’re not nearly romantic enough for that,” he declared, and whatever protest had been devised was swallowed as Brynjolf bit Audric’s shoulder. He continued along Audric’s back, zigzagging between shoulder blades, nipping playfully. Then he paused, laying his cheek on warm skin. “How about even lower?”
Audric whined and nodded his head. Shallowly, he panted into his pillow, could smell Brynjolf even on his own breath. He keened when he felt Brynjolf’s tongue on him, pressing too-gently, deliberately not-entering. “You’re cruel, Bryn,” he accused.
“Ah ah, not me. Pretend it’s your mystery beau,” he chortled. His breath was hot but Audric’s skin rose anyway.
For a moment, Audric stalled. He argued with himself, should he or shouldn’t he? He’d already indulged his imagination a number of times, to great success, but this was different. This was with another person. Not the person but, nonetheless…
Then Brynjolf fluttered his tongue and all his concerns were handwaved.
He gave over to sensation, to the feeling of a warm tongue teasing and testing him. He weakened under big hands and small kisses. He moaned and sighed and nearly tore his sheets to shreds trying not to say anything, because it was one thing to murmur a name out quietly in the dark and alone, but quite another to say it like this.
“I honestly don’t know how he could possibly refuse,” Bryn said, spreading him open, “you’re absolutely irresistible.”
“I told you – oh – I’m not pursuing him!”
Brynjolf bit him hard on the ass. “Mmm, more for me, then.”
"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 12b/??
Date: 2014-04-03 09:07 pm (UTC)“So,” Brynjolf continued his interrogation, “you want to fuck him or for him to fuck you?”
“Both,” he gasped. This was bad. He’d thought of this before, of course, intangibly, all by himself, but now he was speaking of it, to another person. Vaguely and with very little participation, but… He could smell the ale on Brynjolf’s breath as it eddied over his shoulder, could smell the wine on his own as he drowned in it. He smelled sweat as it mingled with cologne and turned poignant. The scratch of stubble on his skin and the scoring of nails along his hips and thighs where he was held in place kept him trapped in sensation, unable to escape his own thoughts.
One of those thoughts was that the sheets in Windhelm were softer than these.
The call of a loon pierced the even calm of morning.
Audric splashed his face, crouched on the shore of the lake. He needed a bath, badly, but he would wait until he entered the steaming basin, for it was too cold in Riften and he was too lazy to boil water inside. His flesh rose under the brisk scrutiny of water droplets as they ran down his neck, into his clothes.
He felt a boot fall gently in the middle of his back, threatening. “You’re up early.”
Turning, he reached behind himself and grabbed Brynjolf’s calf.
“But then, so am I.”
Audric stood, gazing out at the misty water. He listened to the wind in the leaves, to the songs of birds, to the crunch of sand under their feet. He listened, and he waited.
“You’re leaving again.”
He looked up. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”
“Not a thing, lad. Only, I have a parting gift for you, this time.” He pulled a modest wooden box from inside his coat, and proffered it.
It felt smooth, in hand. It had been sanded well, with care, and the brass hinges gleamed in the dewy first light. The clasp was the most ornate thing about it, and it clicked softly when unfastened. Inside, resting on delicate, green velvet, was a tiny, elegant cuff. Diminutive moons and stars glinted, framed on either side by simple bands.
“It’s lovely,” Audric smiled. “Who’d you steal it from?”
Brynjolf snorted and removed the cuff from its box. “I didn’t steal it,” he said. “I had it made.”
“You didn’t.”
Moving Audric’s hair out of the way, he fitted the cuff to his ear. “I know you like silver,” he said, “and I hoped it would please you.”
It felt strange, to have something there, new, somewhat painful at first, even. “I love it,” he decided, sliding it up and down the shell of his ear, finding where he liked it, where he didn’t. “But, you really had it made?”
“Take a peek at Madesi’s books, if you think me a liar.”
“Never a liar,” Audric kissed his mouth, “only sly, sometimes.” Wrapping his arms around Brynjolf’s neck, he stretched onto his tip-toes and said, “That’s just an occupational hazard, though.”
He was rewarded with a deep and visceral chuckle, one he could feel in his own chest.
“So, how long this time?” Brynjolf walked alongside him to the stables.
“I don’t know. I did take work from Vex though, so I’ll have excuse to come back quick enough.”
Brynjolf frowned. “How much of this is dragon business, and how much of this is politics?”
A hard lump took shape in Audric’s stomach. “I don’t think I want to speak with anyone about ‘dragon business.’” He hadn’t spoken of his search for the Elder Scroll, not yet. He had contingencies to plan and stories to contrive, as of yet.
“And no one really wants to speak of politics, do they?” Brynjolf tried to tease.
Audric was being unfair. But Brynjolf forgave it because of his age. Whenever Audric was unfair or impatient or demanding, Brynjolf always forgave him, always shrugged it off and pointed at how young Audric was. It made him bristle most days, but at this very moment, he was grateful, however bitterly.
"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 12c/??
Date: 2014-04-03 09:10 pm (UTC)“I know you will. Just, write me a whole letter this time, alright?”
Audric laughed. “Fair enough.”
Brynjolf watched him disappear through the fine mist at a hard gallop. And he thought it strange, to see Audric Bellamy in such a hurry.
Audric had turned the horse loose in the basin; it knew the way back, he was sure.
The air here was humid, rife with steam and hot sun and bugs; a brief reprieve from the bite of Skyrim’s autumn. He groaned, easing himself into the scalding water of the springs, his skin tingling with pleasure and pain all at once. Once he was waist-deep, he splashed the water onto his forearms, onto his chest, trying to accommodate the heat. Everything was hot or cold in this place, too much or not enough, always. When he was ready to submerge himself, he removed his favorite silver necklace, and remembered to remove his new cuff, too. A nice coincidence, that they matched.
He floated on the water, the warmth of the sun on his face, the warmth of the spring buoyant beneath his back. Sometimes he closed his eyes, but never for too long. He could hear men shouting to one another in the distance, the faint echo of iron picking at rock. Occasionally, the water would ripple as a mammoth ambled by. He often wondered at this strange place; the Imperial City, Sentinel...even Wayrest...these had all felt like visits, brief flirtations with the land and its people. Skyrim was something else. He felt strong, here, rooted to the earth, no matter how far he wandered. Amongst these Nords and their quaint talk of honor and glory, Audric knew he should feel out of place, but instead, he had found a home.
When he dressed, he strapped his armor into place, to lighten the load. He tried not to hasten, and failed spectacularly. It was still light when he stopped in Kynesgrove for a bite to eat and to lift some coin.
The great stone buttresses, shining with ice, came into view in no time at all.
Guards eyed him spitefully as he passed, for many of them hadn’t forgotten the conditions of his first visit to the city. He fondled the silver pendant that sat warm on his chest, imagining that the sapphires retained more heat than they could. What had possessed him to break into the palace that evening, he still couldn’t say, and even he questioned his audacity to go rummaging through the possessions of a king.
He was sitting at the bar in the Cornerclub when the messenger arrived.
A woman stood nervously in the door; there was a brief silence as many pairs of eyes – none of them human – rested on the intruder, but soon enough the rumble of conversation rekindled and even the howl of the wind was drowned out. However, someone did take the liberty of shouting, “Shut the damn door!” once some of the snow and cold began to drift inside.
It was a guard, whom Audric recognized; he beckoned her to sit with him but as if from thin air, Ambarys appeared and hissed at him to take his company elsewhere.
“The poor girl’s uncomfortable enough, can’t you –?”
But, as it turned out, he couldn’t. “No, no no, it’s bad enough I allow you in here, I’ll not have any more men, else they’ll start turning up one after the other!”
“She’s not men,” Audric smiled.
“Out!” Ambarys exclaimed. “That's all I need, your pheromones stinking up the place!”
“You like my ‘pheromones’ though,” he teased. When Ambarys made a rather rude gesture, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, alright, we’re going.”
Once they were outside, Bryher addressed him. “To be honest,” she shivered, “I’m more comfortable out here than in there.”
With a shrug, Audric offered her his fur. She turned him down, and he was silently grateful. “So, what are you doing down here, then?”
“Looking for you, actually. Word got around you’d returned, and Jarl Ulfric sent for you, maybe an hour ago.” Folding her arms, she drew her blue cloak more tightly against herself. “He said that it’s urgent.”
“It’s urgent,” he repeated, skeptically. Breathing on his hands and rubbing them together, he nodded at the Cornerclub and said, “They’ve got this great drink, it’s called Sujamma, I could probably go back and –”
“I really think you should go up to the palace, and meet with the Jarl, Dragonborn.”
“Maybe I have my own urgencies.”
"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 12d/??
Date: 2014-04-03 09:12 pm (UTC)“Excellent,” he clapped his hands together. “And stop it with this ‘Dragonborn’ nonsense, it grates.”
She smiled, showing a row of big teeth. “Alright then, Audric. Be seeing you later.”
The cold air was sobering, but that only irritated him. He had a lot on his mind and a few hours to unwind and forget his cares seemed a small luxury, something that could be afforded. By the time he arrived in the palace, he was fuming. He rounded the corner of the hall, expecting to pound down Ulfric’s door, but it was already open for him. Ulfric was seated at a small table, the glow of an immense fire bathing him in its warm light.
Audric stood still, a bit stunned. Then he remembered his anger. “You sent for me,” he snipped. “Now here I am.”
Ulfric regarded him with unease. “Sit,” he offered warily.
“Oh! ‘Come,’ ‘sit,’ what shall it be after this? Roll over?”
Ulfric stared into his eyes for a moment, examined his posture. At last, he leaned into his chair and said quietly, “You’ve been drinking.”
“Yes, and I intend to drink more still, before the night is out.”
Nodding, Ulfric said, “This is a matter of importance. Perhaps we should reconvene tomorrow.”
“No, not at all!” Belligerently, he shut the door and yanked out a chair. “Bryher said it was urgent. You called and I came, now tell me: what is so urgent?”
Again, Ulfric gave pause. “Bryher?” he asked, at length.
“Yes, the woman you sent for me, she has a name, you know.”
“I do...though, not as well as you, apparently.”
Audric grinned. “No, I rather doubt that.”
Inhaling slowly, searching himself for reserves of patience, he handed a neatly folded letter across the table. “I’m concerned with other names,” he said. Audric looked at the words, was able to pick out bits and pieces but his addled brain refused to make sense of them. “It’s from Tullius. The Embassy is mad with panic, now that I’m back in power. We need to respond, quickly.”
Then, a name on the page jumped out at him. “Elenwen,” he murmured.
Ulfric nodded, tight-lipped and jaw clenched.
“So what are we to do?” He flopped back in his chair and nearly tipped.
“Well, I would suggest you make an early night of it, because we leave at first light for a meeting, secluded in an old fort. Can’t be too wary of spies and gossips.” Allowing his jealousy to ripen and rot, he amended, “Or, go on and drink and fuck as you please. I can’t say I wouldn’t relish your hangover.”
Audric stared at him through his inebriated haze, and he wondered, “Or wouldn’t you relish my company?”
There was so much to be done. So much to be done and to be considered and to be weighed in decision. And yet, in spite of all that, Ulfric’s mind remained on this small, irreverent Breton. Disreputable and unscrupulous though he was, held a charm and allure and a degree of intrigue for Ulfric. He presented himself, perhaps unknowingly, as a dilemma, wrapped in complexities that contradicted all he knew to be honorable and good.
Counting on the booze to inhibit Audric’s memory, he answered, “You are the most appealing puzzle I have to solve, but you are not the most important.”
The fire cracked loudly in the ensuing silence, while the wind howled outside, shaking the windowpanes.
At last, Audric stood and sauntered around the table, bumping his hip against a corner and swearing. His hand landed on Ulfric’s shoulder to steady himself, but never left. He leaned in, his breath hot and spiced, his eyes bright with drunken resolve. “I am not your puzzle,” he said, squeezing Ulfric’s shoulder, “and I am nobody’s prize.” There was a moment where he lingered, and nearly fell into Ulfric’s lap, but caught himself in time to regain equilibrium.
The words burned through Ulfric as fire burns through dry wood, voracious and volatile. He was left to smolder with them, while Audric found Bryher in the barracks.
Re: "Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 12d/??
Date: 2014-04-08 06:02 am (UTC)Also, things are becoming more tense between Ulfric and Audric... I find it interesting how Audric is rude and impatient with Ulfric, almost as if expecting the other man would reject him and Audric is trying to protect himself from that. I really liked the following part: “I am not your puzzle,” he said, squeezing Ulfric’s shoulder, “and I am nobody’s prize.”
Eagerly awaiting the next installation!! I love how much time and energy you've put into making this fill lengthy and elaborate. :)