Independent Skyrim OC RP blog, featuring bounty hunters and a teeny tiny Dovahkiin.

Mun is 18+ but NSFW will be properly tagged. Mun tracks the tag "spellswordarcher", and will RP with anyone.

Blog is multimuse and multiship. Crossovers are accepted and highly encouraged~


((Heading off to bed for the night, so fill up my inbox for the morning, m’kay guys? ;3))

Go anon and pretend to be my character’s child,


➤ BUT HERE’s the CATCH! :

Try to incorporate in it a fact/reference to the other parent (without saying their name/URL/ship).

I’ll answer the anon and then also try to guess the ship, or say which one I think the child would belong best from.

luceirosdegolados asked
‘Stay.. please.’ //Desperate need of a paternal figure//







At the soft words, the Khajiit slowed to a stop, and - after a contemplative swish of his tail - turned back. He folded his limbs to sit on the floor beside the bed, leaving his head still nearly level with hers, and swung his ears out to the sides. “….if you want to talk,” Azaron muttered. “I can listen.”

"I did." Luana sighed. She hadn’t noticed Azaron’s expression of disgust. "When I went to get the first head for Kodlak, I also took another one for myself." She then looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "I know I belong in Sovengarde, with the ones that I love. Hircine trapped me, but I don’t want to be his anymore. The nightmares have to stop. I need to go to Sovngarde when I die. Do you understand?”

"…I do." To the deepest meanings of this desire, he did not understand. To him, the wolf was a blessing; a partner, and an ally to be bargained with for the betterment of both.

But Azaron was not so thick as to assume that all weres shared this opinion. He’d met too many desperate rogues and gibbering lunatics to hold to that thought. So while he may not have understood Luana’s reasonings, he did understand that she had a right to turn away the wolf, if given the chance.

"What do you need me to do, harbinger?"

Luana frowned. “Don’t call me that, Azaron.” Closing the chest carefully, Luana stood up to look at the khajiit. She reached an arm an placed a hand on his shoulders.
"Az, would you help me with this? To get cured? Would you come with me to the tomb of Ysgramor?"

"I will, h-….Luana." The Khajiit swished his long tail, and brushed the end against the woman’s arm. "If this is what you desire, then I shall do all within my power to make it so."

Drwaing a sad smile, she poked his shoulder. “Too solemnt for two frie.ds going on an adventure, don’t you think?” To be honest, she thought he’d me more impressed with the whole tomb of Ysgramor thing. Well, Azaron was a khajiit, he had all the right to not give a fuck.

The warrior cracked a small smile and rumbled. “It is important to you.” He stated. “Should that not be taken seriously? But, if you want more humor…” The Khajiit rolled his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I think I can manage that, too.”

lightpokemonking asked
"I'm not letting you walk, I'm going to carry you." (Sky)






"It’s….it’s nothing…" Haaki insisted, despite leaning heavily on one of his blades simply to stay upright. "Just a flesh wound. I just need a minute, and I’ll be fine."

"….." The Nord’s mood only seemed to sour as the town gates approached. "….listen," He spoke up. "Can you at least not tell the healer how this happened? Breaking your ankles falling off a cliff is one thing, but….breaking them because you stepped on loose rocks isn’t very…you know….heroic."

"Don’t worry!" Sky said, "I’ll tell him that you were attack by an group of bandits and you fought them off with your bare hands because they took your weapons and that you broke your ankles because one of them sweep you off your feet with an Mace" Sky said cheerfully.

Haaki cracked a smile. At least that story was believable. “You’re the best, Sky.” The young Nord replied with a chuckle.

"I do try my best!" Sky laughed as they near the town.

Haaki sighed quietly and placed a hand over his face, as if exasperated. Really, he just wanted to hide his embarrassed blush from the townsfolk.

spellswordarcher asked





"Azihana! Get down!" Tili screamed. She sprinted towards the child as she saw a man aiming directly for her. It may have hurt her as she shoved her out of the way, but Tili had an overwhelming feeling to protect her at all costs. She felt a sting in her gut and staggered to the side before falling over. She hoped the others would take care of the attacker, because she was starting to black out.

The two of them made their way slowly to The Bannered Mare. Honestly, she was pretty tired. She hadn’t really been in active combat since her own accident and her body wasn’t as used to it as before, plus worried sick over Tarene was enough to make her tired in and of itself. But even though she was tired, she’d happily stay up late talking by the fire. After almost losing him, and now realizing her feelings, she wanted to spend time with him any chance she got.

It was quite loud once they entered, and she figured she couldn’t sleep with that racket anyway. “They sure are noisy tonight huh?” she said a bit quietly and close to his ear.

"Ah, it’ll quiet down soon enough." Tarene laughed. "Most of these people are just here to drink for the night. They’ll eventually stumble back home, you’ll see." Still grasping Tili’s hand, the mer raised his other arm in a wave across the room, where Azihana sat beside her father (finally returned) and Heceri at a table in the back corner.

Tili smiled and waved to Azihana who was being her usual self. She laughed to herself as they made their way across the room. “I’m glad to see that you’re back safe Azaron.” she smiled. “I went looking for you in Jorrvaskr earlier.” she added. “But one of the ladies said you went off to make sure there were no more bandits.” she said. She remembered the woman’s odd choice of words, but maybe she was a foreigner. She quickly forgot about it as she was more focus on Tarene’s hand still in hers.

She turned her head away from the group and yawned, covering her mouth with her free hand. Though she wasn’t the one that was injured, she felt like it was a long day for her too.

"Yes, I…’went hunting’, you could say." The Khajiit responded with a thin smile. "I saw a few escaping when I brought Azihana across the river, and I admit the bloodlust took me, for a while…" Azaron shrugged. The truth was a bit more complicated, but also a lot more secretive, and that was a secret that the Khajiit didn’t go spreading around.

As the pair sat down at the table again, Heceri cast a glance down at their clasped hands, and a smile appeared behind his cowl. He still kept the fabric pulled up to his nose; people tended to stare after scars, and the mage wanted as few eyes upon him as possible, lest some opportunistic face recognize him.



"Oh, it’s nothing~" Tarene’s grin widened as he leaned in to kiss her. On her lips, he could still taste the faded tang of juniper berries from dinner the night before. It had been a treat, and one of the few deserts he could manage without disaster; he’d made it - made enough to last them the week - as an apology for returning home an entire day late from his last bounty quest. It had been the weather that had held him up, but a delay was a delay, and he’d felt terrible about it.

Tili pulled her arm tighter under his arm as he kissed her, pressing herself against him slightly. “It means something.” she said, smiling against his lips now. “Or are you just teasing me?” she asked. She pecked him on the lips again before squeezing him extra tight. 

"Tarene, I missed you." she said softly near his ear.

"I missed you, too." The mer quietly tightened his hold around the woman. He didn’t like to admit it, but he did worry about Tili, when he was away. He knew she was capable, and could no doubt handle herself, but in the dark of night, his mind would conjure up frightening scenarios…and he couldn’t prove them wrong until he returned home, as no courier would ever be fast enough.




This time she couldn’t dodge, and she was obviously the easier target. She attempted to throw up a ward before the magic from the staff hit her, but it seemed to latch onto her. She felt an overwhelming feeling of being drained. She let out a heavy breath and felt to one knee. It took from her already barely existent pool of magicka, quickly drying it up. Just as it felt like it was drawing from her life force something seemed to have it to stop.

Though he struck the same instant as Tili, Tarene managed to escape the Dragon Priest’s immediate notice. Perhaps the lich thought him less of a threat, being the most visibly frightened. The mer flinched at crack of thunder that rocked the room in the wake of Morokei’s lightning strike, and made a break for the stairs to the lower floor. He didn’t see Tili stumble down the far steps, but he heard a faint ‘splash’, and knew that the Priest was distracted.

Tarene forced himself to move carefully; slowly raising his blade in preparation for a strike. The staff drained magicka to a lethal degree, and Tili didn’t have that much to give in the first place, but Tarene knew he couldn’t take Morokei in a direct one-on-one fight. Their best chance lay in the young mer’s ability to strike but a single, devastating blow. If he could wound the Priest enough to distract him from his casting, they could separate him from the staff, and maybe even out the fight.

The moment he felt he was close enough, Tarene lashed out with his sword. The ebony blade cut a bright slash through the air - slicing through Morokei’s armored robes with a deadly crackling. A dry screech rang throughout the room, and the Priest was suddenly gone - flying back across the room, and out of Tarene’s reach faster than was humanely possible. The elf ran to Tili’s side and dropped to his knees in the water beside her.

"Tili?! Tili, get up!"

Tili’s body felt weighted down, like she had no energy to stand or fight. “I-I can’t.” she said, leaning into him. “If I get hit with that again..” she said, almost a sigh. She was feeling extremely weak, though she was awake enough to put her arms around him. “I can stand if you help me up.” she said as she almost rested all of her weight on him.

"If we don’t finish this soon, it’s not going to end well." she said. She pulled back then and lazily put her hands on either side of his face. "I believe we will make it out of here…but if something happens to me, just go. Run. You have to keep yourself safe. Okay?"

Tarene’s heart sank at these words. So Tili feared things were as dark as he did, then….this foe was far beyond the two of them, and if the battle dragged out much longer, neither one of them was likely to leave. By the Dovah curses being flung around behind them, however, the Priest was still distracted - they had a little time to turn things around. Tarene shook his head and dropped his sword, reaching up to grasp both of Tili’s hands with his, and pull them down from his face.

"No no no," He argued. "We’re leaving here together, or not at all!" He let go of one of Tili’s hands to reach down and pick up his blade again. The enchantment appeared to have been spent upon striking the Dragon Priest, for it hadn’t shocked the two adventurers when it fell into the puddle. "Listen. I’ve got a plan, but it’s not smart. It’s pretty stupid, actually, but it’s all I can think of." Tarene could feel the emotion closing up his throat, but he swallowed thickly and powered through it.

"Tili, when you see an opening, I need you to grab the staff and run. I’ll be behind you I hope, but….but just in case….” Tarene sighed. “I need to tell you something, Tili. I….I think I l-“

whatdosendhelp asked
"There’s a dead body on my floor."






"A dead skeever.” Whacks-with-sticks corrected, gesturing to the limp creature with her ever-present ladle, as if this distinction made all the difference. “If you want to get technical, that’s dinner.” The Argonian lass added. “I just have to find a knife, since ladles don’t cut well.”

Whacks-with-sticks pulled a face. “It was good enough for the Iron Bloods…” She muttered under her breath. Skeevers and other small mammals were about the only things she could catch, anyway - birds were too fast, and she didn’t have the archery skills to hunt elk or deer.

"And how many of them died of ataxia?" Caesa demanded. "You aren’t eating that."

She picked the dead skeever up by the tail, trying not to cringe, and chucked it out the door.

"If you want meat, we can go hunting. If we leave now I bet we can bag a deer by nightfall."

Whacks-with-sticks snorted air through her nostrils in frustration, but threw up her hands. All that hard work chasing the skeever around the basement, for naught. But she’d never really worked with deer before….she could probably make a delicacy out of it. “Fine! But you’re doing the killing.” She declared. “A creature that big would only step on little old me.”

Caesa had already strung her bow.

"Hah! No problem. I once killed a giant with a single shot," she boasted. It was technically true, although she neglected to mention the giant’s mate and two mammoths then chasing her from the Pale to Hjaalmarch. Or that everything from her hat to her boots was enchanted to improve her archery.

"Would you like to try your hand at it, anyway? I have a spare bow."

The young Argonian eyed the simple weapon with a wary look. A few bandits in her parents gang had used them, but when leadership had changed, they’d died pretty quickly; shields had easily warded off their arrows, and the bows had all snapped in half on the blades of their melee-class enemies. “…I think I’ll pass.” Whacks-with-sticks replied at length. “How about you handle the hunting, and I’ll handle the cooking?”







(Source: 4gifs)

sister-of-durin asked
✦ ☮ ♥ ☁ ☄

Send me a ✦ for a random headcanon about our muses

Tarene won’t share snowberry crosatas. Not even with Tili.

Send me a ☮ for a headcanon about our muses’ friendship

Tili is *like a sister to Tarene - partially because she reminds him of his own sisters, and he never really got over their loss.

*This is main verse.

Send me a ♥ for a headcanon about our muses’ love life (romantic/sexual/fluffy)

Tarene is very hesitant about initiating intimate encounters, due to usually being the submissive in his previous relationship. He doesn’t want his partner to feel uncomfortable or out of their league, so he prefers to just let them start things.

Send me a ☁ for an angsty headcanon about our muses

Tarene is going to outlive Tili before he’s even considered ‘middle-aged’ in elven terms.

Send me a ☄ for a lighthearted headcanon about our muses

On one of their trips through Winterhold, Tarene initiates a snowball fight with the College apprentices, and teaches Tili all his secrets for a guaranteed-win.