#no i'm not struggling to draw and throwing whatever i have in my drafts into the queue whatever gave you that idea haha <- LYING

[buttercup-barf]

Some DnD OC's. Me and a friend group are actually planning to do a campaign at the time of writing, so. Yay!

Left to right are Lilith D'Arte Rougelle (drow noblewoman), Kiara Wur (drow rogue), my self-insert in the DnD world (undead skeleton bard), and Conductor (dwarf-based living wooden puppet bard). A couple more images under the cut.

If you somehow remember Conductor, you can have a free cookie. I think I'm taking baby steps towards making them look less a rip-off of A Certain Someone. :-)

Cropped out a friend's character, because I dunno if she wants to Reveal him yet.

And a first draft of Lilith from class, with a hideous plush toy of a show that exists, so that this woman does not take up half the post with her löng-ass image.

[ladyemberswrites]

[Oh boy, OH BOY! Like some people are going to hate me for this, but here it goes!]

Author's Notes: Okay, so like I've had this in my drafts for awhile now. So, this is like a very, very rough draft of a Gargoyles Human Au I was working on, but then I ended up changing a whole bunch of things as I went along, so this is pretty much a scraped draft, drabble sort of thing, though I will probably end up keeping many of the main elements in the final product. So, yeah-

!Warnings! [ Adultery/Cheating/References to Toxic and Unhealthy relationships/Age Difference/Age Gaps]

● If any of this isn't your cup of tea this isn't for you!]

Summary: "Elisa?" She hated the way he said her name. He said it so delicately, so soft as if he feared it might break on his tongue. She hated that she loved how he spoke  it "Elisa". It made her feel wanted, feel desired, feel protected with just an utterance of her name. And that's where the problem lay.

Why she can't look him in the eyes, but she does so anyways to catch his tired, obsidian eyes.

"We need to talk." She blurts and she can see him physically wince the moment the sentence leaves her lips.

"I know"

It was long after midnight, but of course, New York isn’t called the city that doesn’t sleep for anything. 

But, the point was moot.

For the first time, she hated the noise of the city that she called home. The lights too bright, the sounds, the smells of greasy street vendor food made her want to vomit. She just wanted everything to shut up and give her some peace. She wanted to wallow but she had work in the morning so getting drunk like any sane person would have was out of the question.

And the thought of sitting around any longer in the silence of her dark, cramped, shitty apartment made her want to rip her own hair out and scream.

So, where does that leave her?

Not much of choice, no, not really she has a choice, a choice that needed to be made no matter how much she didn’t want to do it. She can be a coward and run, but her mama didn’t raise cowards. She’s no coward even though at this point and time she wanted to be. 

To go run and hide away from the big scary world.

The 23rd precinct came into view and her dread only intensified. No one was there which only worsen the feelings even though the building being entirely vacant is a blessing. No one to hear, no prying eyes nor ears. Yet, that didn’t lessen the fear; her heart felt like a rock sitting inside her chest and every exhale and inhale of her breath burned as if her lungs were drawing smoke and brimstone. 

The scent of roasted Ethiopian coffee wafts under her nose and it warms her, almost comforting her as she turns the corner and finds the only light in the dark beckoning her. Her feet kept going, they wanted to stop and turn around and run until her feet bleed.

But, she can't. She had to do this, she had to, not just for herself, but for them and too selfishly appease her own guilt that's been gnawing away at her consciousness every waking moment. 

The rap of her knuckles across the worn wood sounded like a death toll in her ears. In a way it was.

"Captain Wyvern." Her voice wavered, she sounded so damn mousey and timid, but the door and rumble of his deep baritone made her feel so small and tiny. 

"Come in." She didn't notice the tremble of her fingers until she struggled to turn the knob of his office door, she stopped and swallowed, her throat feeling raw and scratchy. Inhaling, she finally finds the courage to open it and meet Goliath's boring stare.

The dark circles of his eyes were hard to ignore nor the fading blemish that stained his dark skin a nasty shade of blue and black. She recoiled at the sight, darting her eyes away to peer at the floor.

"Elisa?" She hated the way he said her name. He said it so delicately, so soft as if he feared it might break on his tongue. She hated that she loved how he spoke it "Elisa". It made her feel wanted, feel desired, feel protected with just an utterance of her name. And that's where the problem lay.

Why she can't look him in the eyes, but she does so anyway to catch his tired, obsidian eyes.

"We need to talk." She blurts and she can see him physically wince the moment the sentence leaves her lips.

"I know" she steps closer, her eyes briefly scanning the mess of his desk scattered files and unfinished documents laid about, a whole pack of cigarettes burnt to their very buds sizzles in the mini ashtray she bought him as a last-minute birthday present. Her eyes lifted to meet his scrutinizing gaze and hated that too, that inhuman inquisitiveness his eyes give off, watching her every movement like that of an apex predator.

"I want to transfer" the words tasted bitter on her tongue, heavy as they were she had managed without tripping over her them in haste. Goliath looked at her like she had just punched a hole through his gut and suddenly that bruise on his face didn't sting so much.

"What?" 

"I-want to transfer" 

"Why-" as if he didn’t know. 

"I overheard you arguing with your wife about me the other night." His face fell blank "Captain-Goliath you know why I can't stay here. You know that I can't." Dammit, she hissed she fumbles with her oversized police bomber and rubs her watering eyes. She hears a creak of his mobile chair and the soft pad of shoes hitting the floor and suddenly he's towering over her.

"Elisa, you belong here" of course she did, didn't she? But, the matter isn't about her sense of belonging, it's about what is right and what is wrong. And she can't stay no matter how much she didn't want to leave, she can't because she knows she won't be able to control herself. 

"You're making this harder than it has to be" she mumbles exhausted and emotionally worn "I have to go" 

"The problems between me and my wife have nothing to do with you" he's trying to placate her, to affirm what she has so unsuccessfully tried to do for months on end.

"It has everything to do with it me!" She snapped pulling away from his warmth "how can you say that!? I kissed you! And before that, I confessed to you drunk off my ass!" She shouted as she had to hammer those facts into his thick skull because he wanted to ignore the blatantly obvious. To put behind them and pretend that night didn’t exist at all.

You're a married man dammit!" God, she can only imagine what it would've sounded like if the 23 precinct was packed airing her dirty laundry for all to hear without a care in the world. Even in the quiet of the empty halls, she felt beyond mortified.

Goliath watched her almost apathetically mingled with what she had come to know as his " unable to process anything" look. 

Whatever torrent of emotions were stirring through him she hadn't the faintest idea. Her captain was known for having a rather volcanic temper, but she had never, ever had him lash out at her, raise his voice yes, but never unadulterated anger. Right now, she wished he would get angry, lash out at her, throw something, flip the desk and let all its contents crash upon the floor. It'd make things easier for her, easier to pack her things and leave and never look back. And not cling to him like a lovesick puppy.

But he doesn't. 

He runs a hand through his long mane smoothing it back for a lack of anything better to do or say. 

"I need coffee." he mutters. For Goliath its code for "I need a minute to think".

He wanders out his office lost and leaves her behind struggling to keep her dwindling mental state from going straight to utter hell. 

The silent tears do the opposite of what she's supposed to do, to keep a level head, but they come anyway, pouring down her cheeks in pathetic, wet globs. By the time he returns with two mugs of piping hot coffee her eyes are red and scratchy and he looks worse than when he left. Still stolid, still uncomfortably rigid as if he's standing trial.

She takes it and sips at it, just the right amount of sweetness she liked because of course, he knew exactly how she wanted it. Because he's attentive and she comes to hate him for that.

"Goliath?" 

"Yes." 

"Was she right? About what Demona said about you being infatuated me? About having a thing for me?" His chair squeaked, deafening in the silence.

"I-" her brows scrunch "you kissed me back that night. It was brief, but I noticed" 

"...Yes…" he confesses and her fingers squeeze her mug so tight she feared it might break.

~

Brooklyn came in like a whirlwind, slamming the glass door of his office behind him it resounded like a thunderclap. Goliath glanced up from his documents, his prescription glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose.

"What the hell did you do!?"

"Pardon?"

"You're transferring Elisa!?"

He looks away from Brooklyn's accusatory gaze "Yes…"

"Why!?" He slams both hands on his desk "Elisa's a damn good cop and you know it! Just what the everloving hell did she do to make you want to transfer her!" Goliath hardly faltered under his younger brother's fury, he remained passive and unnerved.

"I thought you liked her"

"I do." He murmured, but Brooklyn took note of something, the perks of living with each other so closely for so long.

"But, I'm betting a little much, huh?" His tone was far from sarcastic his voice instead dripped with condescension, if not disgust.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is that what you're doing!? Huh, covering your own ass because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants!? Never thought you'd stoop so low-"

"Enough!" He barked detesting the very insinuation that he'd kick Elisa to curb, that he'd use her to only abandon her for mere lust made him sick. As understanding he is of his brother's upset; he refuses to be accused of such a low, foul deed. Like a scolded puppy Brooklyn reels away with wide eyes.

"I know you're upset but I will not stand here and let you accuse me of something I did not do."

His gaze sharpened "This is not a decision I make lightly, but it has to be done." 

"But, why!?"

"Enough, Brooklyn. You do not need to know the specifics only that I'm transferring Elisa to the 22nd precinct. My decision stands and you will accept it all the same."

"Just like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Yes." He says with finality.

"You're not getting away with this…" he hissed before he tapered away, slamming the door the way he had opened it earlier with a thunderous clatter.

As Brooklyn's loud, angry footsteps recede, Goliath resisted the sudden urge to hurl his mug across the room, to watch it crash and hit the floor, to shatter into a thousand little pieces upon the polished wood. 

An appropriate metaphor for his current state of mind. 

He heard his office door swing open again this time without a deafening noise.

"Always a lively lad" Hudson jeers. Goliath cracks his knuckles scowling at his desk.

"It is not always a good thing" his mentor hummed "Brooklyn lets his emotions run wild without thought or consequences too often." 

"Aye, but the sentiment rings familiar" Goliath grimaced "lettin' one's emotions run rampant" 

"I wasn't that bad" 

Hudson laughed but shook his head "perhaps, but I'm not speakin of that" his mirth falters "it's about you and the lass" 

There's no accusation in his voice.

"There is nothing between me and Elisa" as if it needed to be stated.

"If you're going to be carrying on an illicit affair, ye should be sure the walls don't be having eyes and ears" Goliath stiffened.

"I was in my office gettin some shut eye until the yelling woke me up. Nice thing to wake to seeing the two of you gettin' to know each other" Shame curled at the pit of his stomach his eyes left his mentor's questioning gaze.

"I had a serious lapse of judgment" 

"I'll bet!" Goliath swallowed. Hudson crossed the room and took a seat.

"I do not  know what's coming over me." He rubbed the bridge of his nose ", this isn't like me, Hudson." 

"It'd be love I suppose" 

"I don't-" 

"Don't love the lass?" Hudson lifted a bushy brow "ye sure?" Goliath didn't answer, he didn't want to answer.

"I'm married, Hudson. A married man with a child! How can you say that!? In fact, you of all people should be furious with me!" 

"And say 'I thought I taught you better'?"

"Yes!"  he slammed the desk “What I did was wrong! I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t-” he ran both hands over his face in utter frustration “I should never have kissed her the way that I did. I shouldn’t be infatuated with her in the first place! Dammit….” 

~

Goliath did not know what lunch with his wife might entail. He considered canceling out of guilt, but his conscience won in the end. He needed to face her, Demona, his angel, and to confess to her how he betrayed her in the worst possible way. He wasn't looking forward to it as he traps through the tables and chairs of her favorite french restaurant.

"Love." She was eerily at ease "you came."

"Of course."

"You are troubled" 

"You stormed away last night. I was worried." Demona only let her lips downturn only a millimeter as she dusted her pencil skirt of invisible dust.

"I suppose I let my emotions get the better of me" 

"I-before we eat. I must confess something to you" 

"Is it about the Maza woman?" her tone dropped. To be fair her momentary jealousy wasn't as intense as it was before. She felt more aggravated by the fact she hadn't noticed earlier, she hates rude surprises. And what did she have to scorn the Maza woman over anyway? She's rich, she's powerful all gained and created by her very own hands. What exactly did she have to prove to her? It's an embarrassing sentiment, but a sentiment all the same.

Goliath nods mutely and Demona speculates that something serious between must have happened and as he spoke-not as nearly serious as she had thought. However, she found it both shocking and utterly amusing that Goliath of all people-it was almost laughable. He was cute; being completely racked with guilt. This Maza woman had certainly worked a number on him without actually intending to do anything at all. Quite impressive.

"I will not excuse my behavior"

"Why didn't you?"

"What?"

"What caused you to stop?"

"You of course!" 

"A bit too late for that."

"I-" he swallowed "Y-yes." 

"Seems my assumption was correct then?" 

"I'm not going to leave you for another woman"

"But, Maza isn't just another woman." She cuts him off "Is she?"

Goliath froze.

"You feel a strong attraction to her more than anything I can garner "

"That isn't-" 

"Isn't what? Why are you trying so hard to deny the obvious truth? You want Maza." 

~

"So what!?" Elisa snaps "Do we just bang each others brains out? Then what?! Be consumed by a lifetime of guilt? Or do we just play pretend and spend the rest of our lives shacking up at some moldy, shitty motel acting like we did nothing wrong once the lights come on?" 

Her shoulders sag, her voice cracks "Is that the kind of life you want, Goliath? Living out some lie that we know damn well isn't true?" She wiped her eyes with the back of her palm, she was crying again. Dammit! 

Before she knew it, she's enveloped in warmth, his large arms and body wrap around her and she's pressed into his chest. Him and the oversized blue police bomber that he had given her to replace the once she lost on her first-night compasses her. 

She inhales his scent; the heady smell of burnt oak. 

And before she knows it she crumbles, her vision is blurred, everything outside is nothing more than white static in her ears as she wails against his chest. 

A childish part of herself wanted to scream and say it wasn't fair, but she knew she can't-couldn't say it out loud.

"No." He finally says "that isn't the life I want for you." He squeezes her tighter, his fingers brushing through her short hair "you're young, so much younger than I am, you have your whole life ahead of you. I cannot keep you here, no matter how much I want you to stay." 

It wasn't fair for him either. Forced to stay within a bitter, toxic marriage. But, that wasn't her issue to meddle in. 

She sniffed "you're not that old" her tone is watery, heavy with grief, but she tries to lighten her mood.

"I'm old enough to be your father, Elisa." He says dryly with no ounce of humor.

"Yeah," she sniffs "but you're not my dad." She sniffs again "he's been gone for a long time…now.." as if this wasn't depressing enough, she shudders. Goliath holds her closer, letting his head fall upon her head.