okay so ik i kinda dropped off the face of the internet a bit (breakup induced depression is a bitch) BUT i swear i havent forgotten about my interests!! So i present to the SoW community: a little synopsis for a fic:
A hundred years had passed since The Nether Invasion, generation after generation working hard to heal the ravaged land of Ardonia. In this current age of relative peace most believed that all was well. But of course, there were still a few who kept their guard up. One such person was Thalleous Sendaria, the Ardoni champion who helped lead the clans through the war a century ago. Now he travels the vast land, hunting down troublemakers. Until the day came where Fate decided to prove him right. Now he must reunite with an old friend and pray that she can help the world survive, and that he can survive the weight of things left unsaid when they last parted.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Darkwing Duck | Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard
Characters: Darkwing Duck | Drake Mallard, Gosalyn Mallard
Additional Tags: Father's Day, Breakfast in Bed, launchpad is mentioned, gosalyn is the best daughter in the whole wide world, drake is a good dad, Fluff, drake's alliterations are really fun to write and i wish i could fit them in more
Summary:
Gosalyn Mallard was annoyed, to say the least. She'd gone through all this trouble, and her father wasn't even getting up to appreciate it! She tugged on his arm again, and decided that if this last attempt didn't work, she'd have to resort to jumping on the bed. It was a wonder that she hadn't already, since usually that was the first thing she tried, but today she was trying to be on her best behaviour. "Come on, come on, come on!!"
I want you all to know i wrote this in one sitting while actively being in DnD
@ryumatsuka001 I hope you enjoy twin!!
The vending machine beeps as a coin is placed in the insert and a button is selected. In front of it waiting for the drink to fall is a young woman bearing some interesting features, as many residents of Cier tend to. She listens with great interest for the tell-tale sound of the aluminum can rolling into the pick-up box. Fizzy sweet drinks are a rarity when one is near constantly traveling outside of cities so this is a rare treat.
She’d been so focused on the vending machine she’d hardly kept her ears on a swivel like usual. Those startlingly tall serval ears of hers typically at least twitch at different noises to subconsciously differentiate between what's a threat and what isn't. But right now they’re completely still, tilted directly forward.
She later decided that was the best mistake she could’ve made that day.
Crouching down the pull the soda free, her claws clink against the soft metal when she faintly hears something that sounds like a surprised voice from a ways to her side. The sweep of her tail slows as the fluffy tip flicks in mild acknowledgment.
A single claw is halfway wedged underneath the tab, ready to pop it open as she glances to check out whatever the noise is now that the treat is acquired. As blue-grey eyes meet bright teal all her movements halt like a cat getting grabbed by the scruff of their neck.
That’s a face she knows. She recognizes it, because it was one of several she almost couldn’t save. He looks healthier now, but the leg braces are new. Her magic and potions should’ve left him in good enough condition he wouldn’t need those, but then again duelists are known for consistently getting beat up pretty bad. One of the many reasons she took a different path.
While she was looking him over with eyes full of recognition, he was doing the same fight back at her with an expression of puzzlement, a sense of familiarity scratching at the back of his mind. He could've sworn he's seen those ears before, they're too obvious to be forgotten easily.
An image pokes its way to the forefront of his mind, blurry and missing pieces but definitely a memory of someone taking care of him. It must've been about a year ago? A surprise ambush from a bunch of rogues had left him in rough shape, stumbling around outskirts he didn’t know.
He remembers the sensation of steady hands prodding at his injuries, claws careful of the raw skin as blood was swiped away to assess the damage. A numbing agent was dabbed around, soaking in deep to dull the pain as a minor healing spell is cast to stop the bleeding and stitch the flesh back together enough to apply actual stitches to the worst of it.
She’d worked with the fervor of a combat medic, and even through the haze he could tell she was skilled. She was someone used to these situations through and through. But she didn’t even stick around for thanks. Only a note detailing how to take care until he was fully healed and enough supplies to last him until then.
Karma has a way of coming around, good or bad.
“…I think we know each other.” The staring contest is still going as he breaks the awkward silence first.
She blinks rapidly, giving her head a little shake like she’s trying to whiplash the surprise away at seeing this particular patient again. Most of the time she hardly ever remeets the duelists she treats at random. “Uh. Yeah- yeah I also think we do.”
He shifts in place, boots clunking against the concrete. For a guy who’s pretty good at making friends, he doesn’t really know what to say to someone who saved his ass and didn’t ask for anything in return. A thank you is obviously one of them but maybe introductions should come about first.
He clears his throat, sticking out a hand. The sunlight glints off the metal and draws her eyes to it. She hadn’t payed much attention to them while she was treating him so she never noticed how shiny they were. “I’m Oxob. It’s nice to properly meet you.”
A few seconds of staring later she remembers very suddenly that oh shit she needs to introduce herself too. She jolts up, soda cracking open in the rush to move her hand and take his proffered handshake. Her grip is firm but not tight, slim fingers holding a surprising strength against his metal hand. “I’m Taara. Sorry for kinda just running off on you during our first meeting… Where battles rage a healer follows and oh boy there were a lot of fights that day.”
She chuckles, feeling a bit bashful. Taara had meant to come back and check on him, she really did! But by the time she could get back there hours later he had disappeared and she’d been too exhausted to try and track his scent trail.
“It’s okay!” Oxob is quick to reassure with a friendly smile, finding her reasoning to be a pretty sound one. “There’s not a lot of people who know actual healing magic around so you must be busy a lot.”
The awkwardness between them has faded, Taara’s shoulders relax as she lets out the breath she’d been holding. When they step back from the handshake they’ve settled into something much more comfortable atmosphere compared to a few minutes ago. “Yeah, and its always worse ‘round the outskirts.”
The sound of her drink fizzling redirects her attention and she brings the lip of the can up to her lips for a sip, only to make a very strange face as the tang hits her tongue. This was decidedly not what she had meant to get. The sudden change in her expression makes Oxob chuckle, her reaction reminding him of when a street cat licked his hand and accidentally got a little zap. Its the exact same screwed shut eyelids and scrunched nose.
“You okay there?” He asks, the reflexive politeness coming out naturally as he watches her stare down the drink like it had personally offended her.
His question snaps her out of the stare down, pupils contracting. “Eh? Oh yeah I’m perfectly fine just got taken off guard…” She trails off, knowing well just how ridicules of a sentence that is in a place like this but in her defense she didn’t expect the vending machine to be faulty! Or maybe it isn’t.
Taara turns back to the vending machine, crouching down to stick a hand in the pick-up box and rummage around… And yup! There it is. The other soda can she’d felt while picking up what turned out to be a similar drink someone had bought but apparently just left in there.
She looks between the opened can and the right beverage of choice and makes a quick decision with a shrug of her shoulders. Standing up straight she offers the open fizzling drink out to Oxob. “Waste not want not right?”
He looks down, eyebrow raising but not about to disregard a free drink. “Thanks. You just keep helping me out huh?” Taara snorts a laugh, unable to resist cracking a smile.
“Yeah, you could say that it’s in my nature. It’s kinda funny actually, a wild cat being a healer-care giver type. Not something most people would expected.”
“Unexpected definitely but not unwelcome. Variety is the spice of life.” He takes a sip of the soda, not minding the tanginess as much as she did. Gotta enjoy what you can get when life can be so short.
“Good words of wisdom that.” She muses out loud, cracking open her soda and relishing that sweet taste she was craving. “What an interesting way to remeet someone. Hey, what do you say we chat for a bit? You seem to have a couple stories and I’ve got a free day.”
“Wait really?” Now that’s got to be the most surprising thing she’s done in the few minutes they’ve been talking. Never one to turn down a potential friendship Oxob is quick to take her up on the offer. “Count me in!”
Screw it, here's the Ardoni culture headcanons I came up with a while back for anyone would like to see my craziness. PS, I added stuff to their physical design. They have hair, tails, and clawed hands/feet.
Braids and hair length: Ardoni often do the braids themselves, as allowing others to help or even touch their hair is seen as a great sign of trust and comfortability with that person. Their hair grows rather slowly, so long hair symbolizes a long and usually well lived life.
Clothing: The Ardoni do not have any nudity taboos, as the clans live out in nature. However, when traveling they will wear some basic coverings for the sake of other civilization's propriety. Both sexes will wear a simple loincloth, and the female will wear a simple cloth wrap around their chest.
Adornments: Decorating themselves is also a fairly large part of their culture. Ardoni will most often decorate their horns, tail, and braids with metal bands engraved with designs; though they'll be happy to wear other things like carved beads made of wood or bone, or feathers. Anything handmade really. Many of their decorations will be gifts from those close to them, as a way to carry their friends and family close.
How and where they live: The ardoni hold a deep respect and connection with nature, living out in wild terrain. Homes are often located in hillsides or caves, many of which are carved out and built by hand. External buildings exist of course, but those are workspaces. Shops aren't seen as necessary, as they have little need for money. When travelers pass through a clan, they will be given supplies and a place to sleep in exchange for doing tasks and generally helping out. Ardoni hunter gatherers for the most part, living off the land they reside in. Though they do raise some animals and cultivate crops. Ardoni will often refer to those they greatly respect with the prefix of "Ky'", no matter the species of the person in question. It's a high honor amongst them.
Courtship: Can last from a full year to several. Depends on the species of their partner. Giving handmade gifts and showing off their skills is obviously a big part of it. They close the courtship through a ritual dance under a full moon. It doesn't particularly matter who initiates, only that the other accepts. After the dance, they are considered a 'bonded pair' rather than simply just 'a pair'.
Other things: Ardoni can make rumbly sounds such as chuffs and growls. They are able to use their tail in combat as a defensive weapon in a whip like fashion. Due to their lack of social taboos, they're quite open to things like polyamory and interspecies couples. They don't typically define their sexuality, but general speaking most all of them lean towards bisexuality. Sex drive is nearly nonexistent until they gain a spouse.
I just realized that I don't actually have a name for my rewrite au. Also ngl it's not so much a rewrite anymore as it is me basically homebrewing an almost entirely new world inspired by Songs of War
Putting that aside, y'all are probably here for lore so here ya go
Ardoni do bleed, but only when their markings are struck as underneath those markings are veins of liquid mana stone being pumped from their heart. When an ardoni dies their markings stop glowing because the liquid mana evaporates into particles.
A pure mana stone (made from an ardoni's 'blood') with a small hollow carved and filled with the energy/blood of the other parent that act as an egg which over the course of several months will eventually hatch, 'birthing' a new Ardoni. The length of time it takes for them to hatch depends on how much time the parents spend around the egg so that it can absorb their energy.
Ardoni keep draft horses (for obvious reasons) that have over the centuries grown incredibly strong and resistant, able to travel long distances and absorb residue energy in the air from Song usage and spirits magic to help sustain themselves, effectively keeping in check what would otherwise be an insane appetite.
Greetings travelers of tumblr! I am Starlingadventuress, also known as Starling and Star with friends. I have been described to be an anxious bean with a feline theming.
So, a little bit about me. I go by she/her pronouns, and have been into Skyrim and Minecraft since I first found out about them as a little kid.
I post at random about anything, ranging from known to little known medias, drabbles and fics, and probably a lot about mine and others ocs. I exist here, on ao3, Instagram, and discord. Maybe yt & Twitch in the future.
I live in a household that has neglected me since the day i was homeschooled so I'm offering my writing skills to do anything from oc adopts to writing commissions to hopefully save up enough money to move out. Here's my Strawpage and my Kofi!
That's about it I think. I hope you have a good time on my blog!
Xena was standing at ease near perfectly still but for the occasionally twitching of her ears, and had been patiently holding that position for an hour and a half by now.
Streaks of sunlight caught on the black-and-tan coloring of her well-maintained pixie cut, with a few rays even falling into sharply intelligent melted chocolate brown eyes.
It was difficult for some to believe that a weredog as calm and relaxed as this one was one of the best K-9 fighters in the military. Though growing up on a military base probably helped properly socialize the German Shepard quite a bit.
"How is it coming along?" Xena's eyes deviate from their fixated point for only a moment to glance at the painter before returning her gaze straight ahead. She hadn't expected anyone to approach her on run around the city, let alone someone who apparently wanted to make a painting of the weredog.
Strange, but intriguing. So Xena agreed, watching as the bold asker's eyes went wide with excitement. It reminded her of the expression she must have made the first time a Corporal put a 9mm in her hands and let her go wild on the training field.
The fond reminiscing should probably be put aside now, least chaos descides that it's been called for.
The painter looks up from the canvas smeared with colors galore, tongue ever so slightly poking out in concentration. It takes a moment for the question to register but one it does an cheerful answer is given.
"It's going really well! It's even more fun than I thought— I've never gotten the chance to paint a police dog before, let alone a military K-9! The colors are a bit hard to make just right but I'm sure I can get it eventually!"
Xena wonders in the back of her mind if it's a trait of all artists to be a bit odd, her face remaining in an expression of calm awareness even as her eyebrows almost instinctively raise in surprise.
"You know," Her head tilts slightly to left, tail giving the smallest of sways. "You must be one of the more intriguing civilians I've met."
The painters face breaks into a smile, hands already back to adding new strokes of color; new layers thick and thin to capture the beauty an artist's eyes see best.
Special thanks to my lovely boyfriend for giving me this prompt 💙
