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 - 21/?

[(Anonymous)]

Farengar spared a curious glance at the sleeping mer. Dragonborn… Legate… Thane… How many more faces did the mer have, he wondered.

General Tullius spurred his horse and Farengar followed, his second rider jostling awkwardly in the saddle with him. They made good time, arriving in Riverwood just as the sun finished cresting the horizon.

The citizens of Riverwood stopped their morning tasks to look at the Imperials in their leather armor and red cloaks with curiosity, trying to catch sight of the two men at the center of the riders. Stopping outside the Sleeping Giant Inn, the General dismounted and helped Farengar with his slumbering charge.

Farengar watched in weary annoyance as a murmuring crowd of people formed around them. Embry, the local drunk, cracked open an eye and looked up from his stoop before the inn, shading his eyes as he squinted up.

“Hey! I knowsh that elf! That’sh the Dragonshborns!” the blonde man shouted, slurring his words. “What’sh wrong with my favorite drinkin’ buddy?!”

The Imperials gently moved Embry aside as he tried to pry his way closer, and Farengar hoisted one of Therion’s arms over his shoulders, supporting his weight. A little girl with braided, brown hair crawled up to them, scurrying to avoid getting stepped on by the soldiers. Farengar glared at her as she grabbed a handful of his robe and tugged on it to get his attention.

“Hey! Hey, wizard! What’s wrong with the Dragonborn?” she shouted, jumping up and down.

Farengar glanced around, hoping one of the soldiers would pluck her off of him. Finding himself alone, he tried to shake her away.

“Get off of me,” he ordered her through grit teeth.

She frowned at his unhelpfulness, but let go of his robes none-the-less, much to his relief. Instead, she took Therion’s limp hand and squeezed it.

“Hey! Dragonborn!” she shouted, shaking his hand. When this had no effect, her face clouded.

“Dorthe! Get yer hide over here now!” Farengar heard a man shout, and the little girl stiffened.

She looked up at Farengar to give him a final look of disdain, before she gave Therion’s hand a quick kiss, in what she seemed to consider a manner too subtle for the wizard, or any other observer, to detect.

Her father shook his head as she rejoined him.

“Don’t go running into packs of soldiers!” Farengar heard her father yell, as General Tullius helped him move the Dragonborn into the inn.

“...probably a dragon,” he caught part of the conversation as they moved away.

“No, Papa! He was cut up real bad, like… like he fell in a mill or something!”

The door to the inn closed behind them, cutting off the din of conversations outside, but was quickly replaced by an all new group of spectators. Farengar felt his head spin, as they seemed to press in from every direction; crowds of gawking, gossiping, people.