Hi. Hello. If you don't know me, I am the angst fae, aka dragonmist on AO3, and this specific post jumpstarted the plot bunny for this fic in my brain. So I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Isadora Capri is a musician desperately trying to fall in love with her music again. In an effort to find her lost inspiration, she's started volunteering to play at different hospitals and care homes.
In Willow Hill Care Home, she finds a resident who sparks something new in her from the first glance.
You can read it over on AO3 through this link, or you can enjoy a snippet here under the break:
The Statue - Chapter 1
â Who's she?
â Oh. I'm not sure if you can do anything about her. She's notâŠall there I'm afraid. If she ever was.Â
â What happened to her?
â Some sort of assault, or a freak accident. I'm not sure. Doctors say it's a miracle she's even alive. She was in a coma for like, two years. Then she woke up and slowly started moving. But she never speaks.
â Does she communicate in other ways?
â Not really. She'll ignore anyone that tries to speak with her, or touch her, or whatever. Most of the time she's like that, looking out of the window for hours and hours on end.
â What's with theâŠrose stems?
â Oh that's her friend's doing.
â Her friend?
â Weird lady, always dressed in black, swoops in at the most unusual hours to visit her, and there's no point trying to tell her she can't. She just scoffs at you and finds a way to get into the room anyways. Always brings a bunch of roses, and then snips the flowers right off. She's probably not all there, either.Â
â Does she get any other visitors?
â Rarely. A couple of kids dropped by at first. She was some sort of school principal I think. But it's been months since anyone but the goth lady came around.
Isadora felt herself drawn to the melancholic figure in the room. White-blond hair pulled up in a French knot, perfectly applied lipstick, light eyes focused on the distance, long slender hands folded on her lap.
She didn't look sick, nor lost, nor absent. She looked like she was waiting. Whether it was waiting for something to happen, or for someone to come, Isadora couldnât know, but she felt like the answer was hidden behind those intense eyes.Â
â Even when her friend is there, she doesn't acknowledge her. Keeps staring out of the same window. She only moves to eat, sleep, wash, and get dressed. Some people call her The Statue.
Isadora could see why. The woman had that tragic beauty Isadora had seen in stone angels, the kind that guard cemeteries and watch over tombs. And the more she looked at the woman, the more her fingers itched with the need to play for her. She felt as if that frozen figure was beckoning to her with the power of a siren's song.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Mainly in the Gwendoline Christie fandom & adjacent. Requests are open, but I am slow at writing, so it might take a while to get to it.
You can also find most of my fics on my AO3 profile, DragonMist.
Collections: 10 Days of Gwen Goodbyes  (100-word angsty drabbles with Gwendoline Christieâs main characters) - weekly writing challenge masterpost.
(Wednesday fandom) ------------
Larissa/Reader
- Entwined Destinies - Oneshot, gn! Reader is an empath and a teacher |Tumblr  Also on  AO3
- Intoxicated - Two-shot, gn! Reader is a vampire and a teacher. Drunkennes, angst and drama |Part 1 - Part 2  Also on  AO3
- Dangerous Games - Oneshot, gn!Reader is not jealous. Larissa tries to prove them wrong. Angst. | On Tumblr and AO3
- Nightmares - Fluff & Comfort fic, established relationship | also on AO3
-  She - Songfic based on Dodie's song, angst, larissa x Librarian!Reader - also on AO3
- I wish I knew (you wanted me) - Oneshot, mutual pining. Larissa announces her engagement, Reader thinks somethingâs off| also on AO3
-Loving You (Amandoti) - Sad! Angst, hurt no comfort. Songfic. Larissaâs wife waits for her on their anniversary, but Larissa wonât come home | also on AO3Â
-Breaking the Silence - Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort. R! wants answers. | also on AO3Â
- The Affair - Morally Ambiguous Larissa x Teacher Reader. Multichapter. | Also on AO3
Larissa/Marilyn|Laurel
- Surprising Like Good Coffee On A Bad Day- Longfic (30k+ words), coffee-shop AU, slow burn, COMPLETE! | Only on AO3
-Jealousy (I Could Be A Better Boyfriend Than Him) One-Shot, Angst, Jealous!Larissa | Â also on AO3
- SOS One-Shot, Fluff, Flustered Larissa| also on AO3Â
- All in her head One-shot Post-canon Fix-it. Laurel is visited in the hospital by Larissa | also on AO3.Â
- The Disease - Hanahaki trope with not-really-unrequited love b/t Laurel and Larissa | also on AO3.Â
Morticia/Larissa
- Shapes of Love - Longfic AU (SW!Larissa x RichWidow!Morticia), COMPLETED | Only on AO3Â
- Guess - Steamy flirty fic inspired by Charlie XOX song| Also on AO3
 Marilyn/Reader/LarissaÂ
- Between Them (There is no Space)- Two-shot, angst and feels. | Tumblr Part I Part II Also on AO3
Marilyn/Reader
- Secret Admirer - Oneshot, Ungendered Reader, Angst, jealous Marilyn and protective parental figure Larissa. From an anon request | also on AO3Â
- In Sickness - Minishot, slice of life. Marilyn takes care of sick SO reader | On Tumblr only.
- Running yourself to the ground - Oneshot, Hurt/comfort, Platonic. TW: Self harm | On Tumblr only.
- Spa Night - Oneshot, Fluff | On Tumblr
 Larissa/Morticia/Gomez
- First Evening Back - Oneshot, short fic, angsty polyamory negotiations, feels. | Only on AO3
- Larissaâs Gloomy Summer - Multichapter fic. 19k words| Polyamory negotiations, quirky with feelings. | COMPLETED | on AO3 only.Â
Brienne of Tarth/ Reader (Game of Thrones)Â
- Unrelenting Love - Songfic to Madeline by Kiki Rockwell, Epic Love | also on AO3Â
- Itâs not too late if weâre alive - WWII AU oneshot where Brienne is an officer, R is a nurse,,and they are former lovers | also on AO3Â
-On The Seashore - Queerplatonic Prompt Fic - Brienne and R are adventurers together and thereâs talk of settling down | also on AO3
- The Bet - Bookshop AU - Fluff and Angst with a happy ending | also on AO3
 Miranda Hilmarson (Top of the Lake: China Girl)Â
- Hold me (I need to cry) - Robin Griffin x Miranda Hilmarson. Robin realizes her feelings for Miranda and breaks down into her arms | also on AO3Â
- The Set-Up - Miranda x Reader | Mutual pining, idiots in love | also on  AO3
- In Her Arms - Robin x Miranda. Prompt: Queerplatonic Relationship. Angst and Fluff. | also on AO3Â
Captain Phasma x Reader (Star Wars)
- -Curiosity killed the cat - ...and satisfaction brought her back | two-shot NSFW smut | Only on Tumblr
- Time, and other hazy concepts - adult Wednesday / Larissa Weems | Weird, stream of consciousness fic | also on AO3Â
- The Painter (Larissa Weems Snippet) - super short ficlet focused on Larissaâs past as a model for a painter. TW: Drug use mentions, off-screen death.| Only on Tumblr.
- New Teacher in Town (Larissa Weems x Melissa Schemmenti) | Crossover Wednesday/Abbott Elementary. | Mel is the new hire in Nevermore. Larissa has some issues with it.| also on  AO3
- Happy Birthday, Blondie! (Larissa x Melissa)Â | Crossover Wednesday/Abbott Elementary. | Also on AO3
*****
It youâre only here for the fics and my ask games or rambles bother you, you can find more on how to avoid having them clutter your dash here!
Requests for Larissa, Marilyn, Laurel, Morticia (with potential Reader mixed in) fanfictions are open! Here are my rules/ what I'm not comfortable writing. Also, know that I write excruciatingly slowly, so it might take a while for me to get your request out.
Summary:Â Larissa is a handsy drunk. Vampire!Teacher!Reader is a sad drunk. This fact, and their inability to talk about their feelings, blows what could simply be a drunken accident out of proportion.Â
Angst! Drama! Drunkenness!Â
Part one is  here.
Cross posted on AO3 here.
Here's my fanfiction masterlist.
---
A/N: I am quite ambivalent about this second part. It totally spun out of control from my original idea, but at the same time it kinda made sense, so I didn't want to scrap this second chapter to make a new one. I might revisit this in the future to have an alternative second chapter, but not anytime soon for sure. Beware of the content warnings below if you are at risk of being triggered.
TW second chapter: Drinking, intoxicated people, blood, swearing, angst, mentions of dubious consent, talk of death, talk of self harm, in-depth talk of suicidality. Please be safe if you are fragile, no fic is worth you suffering.Â
âI know you have something to take off your chest.â Vlad closed the door to your quarters behind him with his shoulder, and toed his shoes off, his hands busy with the paper bag, crystal carafe and two shot glasses he was holding.
âGood evening to you too, Vlad, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this lovely Saturday night?â You sniped sarcastically. You were already in your nightclothes, not expecting any visitors, especially not him, friend or not.
The only person you had any interest in spending time with, which happened to be your boss and the person who had tried to seduce you while completely drunk, had apparently decided to pretend you had dropped off the face of the Earth, so you didnât really want to partake in any other sort of interpersonal interaction for these two blissfully empty rest days. You even managed to swap patrolling duties with another colleague, just as to have an excuse to lock yourself in your room for the whole weekend.
âI donât know what happened to you in the past days, but this sulking and hiding away is not something that is acceptable for a young stripping vampire such as yourself. So here I am coming to the rescue like the knight in shining armor that I am.â
He set down the two shot glasses and the decanter on your desk and proceeded to take a clear bottle and some blood packs from his paper bag.
âVlad are you serious?â
âTruly Bloody Mary shots!â He announced cheerfully, tossing the now empty bag over his shoulder and perching precariously on the edge of the desk to pour the liquids in the carafe allowing them to mix properly. You were sitting in the only chair available, but that didnât seem to dissuade him in the least. âThe only way to get through heartache, as my old gramma always said, bless her nonexistent soul. Do you want to start talking without it or wait until they start to loosen your tongue?â
âStart pouring, you soulless bastard.â
âYou know you love me, darlingâ
âThatâs the only reason why youâre still alive.â
âWell, as alive as possible.â
âTruth.â
He expertly poured the first shots and held one out for you to take.
âWhat should we toast to?â
âTo your gramma, bless her nonexistent soul.â
âIndeed! To my bunica!â
That started a long series of toasts, each growing more and more absurd as the mix of blood and alcohol started to have its effect on the both of you.
âToâŠto alcohol!â You proposed, raising the shot glass once again âThat brings out fiends from the most frigid bitches!â
âHear hear!â Vlad downed his quickly, before pouring some more. The carafe was starting to be quite emptier than when you started out. âTo those frigid bitches, may the alcohol always flow in their veins!â
You nodded solemnly, trying to raise your glass to match his, but only managing to slosh it around. âTo those bitches, like Principal Weems!â
Vlad had been halfway through his shot when you added your two cents to the toast and he choked, spraying alcoholic blood all over the front of your nightclothes.
âGee, thanks for that, Vlady, I really needed to upgrade my wardrobe to baby vampireâs first feedingâ
He was still trying to recatch his breath from the coughing access that had followed his accidental inhalation of the shot.
âIâm sorryâŠwhat?â He managed to choke out âWhat does Weems have to do with this?â
âOh, Iâm sorry, I thought we were talking of frigid bitches who need alcohol to loosen upâ
âIâm not saying youâre wrong, but it seems a bit too specificâŠdid something happen between you and Weems? Youâve been giving each other the cold shoulder since Outreach Day.â
âOf course nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. And she has been the one giving me the cold shoulder, that ungrateful piece of s-â
âWoah woah woah. Hold your horses. That doesnât sound like the reaction one has when nothing happened, so here.â Vlad got a hold of your favorite mug, lying abandoned on the other side of your desk, and poured a generous amount of Truly Bloody Mary mix. âDrink up and tell daddy Vladdy what happened to make you so pissed at her. I honestly thought you had the biggest crush on her for ages.â
You took a sip of the concoction and suddenly sadness overwhelmed you like a tidal wave. Oh, how you wished you could go back to when you simply had a crush for her, when all you did was admire her from afar and imagine how her lips would feel like on your skinâŠ
You suddenly broke into sobs, holding onto your mug with both hands as big, salty tears came rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a dam had broken within you and you simply couldnât stop.
âOh my baby. What happened? Iâm so sorry.â Vlad was really astonished at your sudden outburst, but he tried to comfort you as best as he could, jumping down from the table to pull you out of your seat and in an awkward hug, the drink still somewhat caught between you as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. âHere, letâs sit on the bed, and tell me everything.â You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your tears into submission. The sobbing stopped, but your eyes kept stubbornly watering. You took a large gulp of the drink in your hand, the vodka burning your throat as if you hadnât been drinking it for the past â how long had it been? â Â Time was starting to lose all meaning in your alcohol-induced haze.
âI did have a crush on her. IâŠI think I still do.â You tried to start explaining, Vladâs hand still rubbing your back and giving you the comfort you needed to keep going, but how could you even explain? âBut now itâs painful. Do you understand? I donât want to have a crush on her anymore! Not afterâŠâ you drank some more, hoping to stop your voice from breaking again.
âAfter what? What happened?â
âIt was the night after the absolute clusterfuck that was Outreach Day andâŠLaris-Principal WeemsâŠI found her drunk in her office. Like drunk drunk. Like, slurring words and all that jazz drunk. IâŠI thought I could help herâ You couldnât help yourself, you spat the words out, angry at your past self for putting yourself into that situation out of the kindness of your heart.
âAnd?â Vlad was completely captivated by the story now. Even his hand has stopped his comforting motion on your back. He was suspended in the moment.
âAnd well, it turns out that Larissa Weems is one handsy drunk.â
âOh my God. You two slept together?â
âNo, Vlad! Who do you take me for? Didnât you hear the part where she was completely out of it because she was drunk? She probably thought I was someone else anyway.â You didnât even try to keep the bitterness out of your voice. The tears were not stopping, and you were starting to feel hollow inside. Vladâs hand trembled slightly on your back before it resumed its circles. His voice trembled too, as he murmured in the softest voice you had ever heard him use.
âDarling did sheâŠdo things to you that you didnât want?â The question took you aback. You didnât expect Vlad to care that much. You were friends, yes, but more of the boisterous, over-the-top, âletâs get drunk together and have funâ kind. This gentleness was not something you were used to.
âNo, no I wouldnât say that. I did want her to do that and much more to me, itâs just⊠I wanted her to be aware that she was doing it. And when she sobered up, she made it extremely clear that it was just the alcohol, and she doesnât want anything to do with me. Not even small talk apparently.â
The sobs were back, and this time you didnât even try to put a stop to them. You just put your mug down, and hid your face in Vladâs chest, his other hand coming to wrap around you as he whispered comforting words âIâm so so sorry, dear. Itâll be alright, I promise. Tomorrow weâll find a solution⊠Shh, Itâll be alright. Iâm here with you.â
After what could have been minutes, hours or full days, your sad hiccupping subsided, and you tentatively detached from Vlad, âThank you, I⊠I think I needed that.â
âWhat are friends for, darling?â
âStill, that was a lot to unload on you. I appreciate it.â
He stood up, picking up his paper bag from the floor, and putting all of the things back.
âIt was my pleasure. Will you be alright tonight? Would you like me to stay?â
âI think Iâll be ok.â You could still feel the alcohol buzzing through your body, but the tidal wave of repressed emotions was gone. You picked up the mug again and drank it dry. âThank you for the Truly Bloodies, your gramma was right as alwaysâ
âAh, my bunica, she never missed a beat. Except that of her heart, of course.â
âBless her nonexistent soulâ
âQuite right. Sleep well, darling, and if you need me, feel free to come knocking. Tonight or anytime.â
You grasped his arm in an affectionate gesture. âThank you.â You stressed the words, trying to impart how much you meant them.
And with a toothy grin, he was gone, living you so very alone.
Suddenly your small quarters felt almost claustrophobic around you. You needed air and you needed it now. You opened your door, and slipped through it, your bare feet not making any sound as they carried you like a ghost through the halls and up a small staff-only flight of stairs that brought you to one of your favorite places in Nevermore: the teachersâ terrace. It was a lovely place to come and think, and you were especially fond of it during the night. This is where you had come to decompress after Outreach Day, before your traitorous steps had brought you into Larissaâs grasp. You hadnât come here since.
Just another bit of happiness that had been stolen from you in that fateful night. The knot was back into your throat, a mix of sadness, regret, and frustration. You had honestly thought you didnât have any tears to cry anymore, but you can feel them prickling at your eyes nonetheless, undaunted.
Man, whoâd have thought that you would turn out to be a sad drunk?
You took a deep breath, taking in the endless sky, riddled with stars. It was so breathtakingly beautiful. You let the tears fall again, unable to pinpoint even your emotions anymore. Were you sad at having had a glimpse of something with Larissa, just to have it so ruthlessly taken away? Or angry at her treatment of you from the morning after onwards? Both? Neither?
Slowly you walked up to your favorite place to sit, the parapet. There was something just so mesmerizing in sitting so far up over the world, the night breeze gently caressing your face, drying the tear tracks on your face before new ones were made in a never-ending sad game of chase. It was as if you were floating among the stars, offering them your heartbreak, and drinking their light in exchange.
It wasnât the door opening behind you that diverted your attention from the heavens above, nor it was the surprised intake of breath of the person behind you; you were too deeply entrenched in your connection for that, tears freely flowing now, dripping onto your ruined nightclothes. It was the slow, controlled, almost circumspect sound of heels clacking on the stone floor of the terrace that finally did it. You turned your head and cursed your horrible luck.
Larissa stood frozen where she had been when you turned to look at her. Her eyes were open, alarmed, almostâŠscared. She was holding her hands up in a placating gesture.
âHey there.â Her voice was high-pitched and uncomfortable. Why was she talking to you now, after going to great pains to avoid you? She didnât make any fucking sense, and you didnât want to waste any more time than you already did trying to interpret her behavior. You turned back to admiring the night sky, hoping that she would get the hint.
Clack. Another step in your direction, followed by a pause.
Clack. It was as if she was walking in slow motion and your slowly-sobering brain could not even try to understand why.
You wanted to scoff at her, but what came out was a strangled sob. You angrily wiped at your eyes, but the tears just kept falling. Why did she have to come and torture you after ignoring you for days?
âOh so now you want to talk?â
Clack.
âPlease. IâŠI know you are in pain. I understandâ What was up with the pleading, desperate undertones that her voice had? You couldnât even begin to imagine. And you didnât care.
Clack.
The last clack was right behind you. Strong arms snaked around your frame, hoisting you bodily off your seat and depositing gracelessly in a heap on the terrace floor. Larissa crouched between you and the parapet, her eyes still wide, her breathing labored with exertion.
âWhat the fuck, Larissa?â Whatever you had been expecting, a bodily assault was not it. The tears stopped, but that didnât mean you didnât feel like you were hollow and broken inside. âAre you drunk, again?â
She physically recoiled, as if you had slapped her.
âNoâŠno. I just. Thereâs ways to get help. Please.â
You shook your head, still not understanding. Were you being insulted here? âAre you telling me I should get help? Have you seen yourself?â
Her face scrunched up in a grimace, and she lowered her gaze âI⊠I know Iâm not the right person for this but I can call someone else if youâd like. Thereâs always something that can be done.â
âLarissa, youâre not making any fucking sense right nowâ
âItâs alright. As long as you keep talking. JustâŠdonât do anything drastic.â
Keep them talking. Â A lightbulb went off in your head. No wonder some of Larissaâs sentences sounded eerily familiar. You had received the same training as she did, when the people from the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline had come a couple of years ago to Nevermore.
âLarissa, I wasnât about to jump!â The sheer absurdity of the situation dawned on you. That explained the cautious approach, the nervous voice, the bodily removal from your favorite sitting place.
âYouâŠwerenât?â
âIs that what all of this was about? Are you out of your mind?â
Larissa bristled, her temper rising to match your disbelieving tone.
âWhat was I supposed to think? You were there, in the middle of the night, blood down your front, sitting on the parapet and sobbing your heart out. And that was after days of retiring yourself from interaction with others.â
âAnd whose fault is that?â
âYou think I donât know?â Her voice was high, raw with emotion âHow do you think I felt five minutes ago, believing you were ready to kill yourself because when Iâm drunk I just cannot keep my bloody hands to myself? IâŠI donât want to ever experience that again. I am so sorry to have caused you pain.â You were struck dumb. How did this become such a huge deal all of a sudden? Yes, she had broken your heart, but that was, as much as you liked to be dramatic, not a matter of life or death. You would get over it, especially if she stopped acting so fucking weird.
Larissa passed a distraught hand on her face, smudging the dark lines around her eyes. She changed her position and sat on the stone floor instead of crouching. She sighed, a sad, deep, all-encompassing sound of defeat.
âThereâs another school for outcasts, up in Canada. It mainly caters to werewolves and doesnât have the longstanding tradition that Nevermore has, but it will do, I guess.â
Your point, exactly. What was she going on about?
âOh, so now you want to send me away? So that Iâm out of sight and not at risk of reminding you of-â
âOf course not. I meant for myself. I will resign.â This shocked you out of your passive-aggressive state. Larissa leaving the school? That was absurd.
âYou canât be serious. Larissa, you are Nevermore. You cannot just resign over a drunken mistake. One that almost no one knows about, as well. I will keep my mouth shut, andâŠand keep out of your way if you want.â
âThat is not what I want! Canât you see? I molested you! You were helping me and in my drunken state I thought that meant that you reciprocated my feelings for you and I just assaulted you, my employee! I am not fit to be in charge of Nevermore. Hell, I shouldnât even be in charge of a fish tank!â
âYouâŠyou have feelings for me?â
âOf all of what I said thatâs what you choose to focus on? Thatâs not the point here! Being attracted to you doesnât allow me to do things to you that you didnât want to in the first place.â
You grasped her hand, and she jolted, as if you had tased her.
âLarissa, look at me.â Her blue eyes were full of tears, unguarded like that one fateful night, but this time due to the strength of her emotions, not the alcohol. You were seeing the true Larissa again, not Principal Weems and you would be damned if you didnât take advantage of it. âI didnât reject you because I didnât want your advances. Quite the contrary. But you were drunk, and I was sober, and I didnât want to take advantage of your uninhibited state just because I had a crush on you for the longest of times. It wasnât right.â
âYouâŠdonât hate me for what I did to you that night?â She looked so fragile, so incredulous, that you put your other hand on her cheek, a comforting touch.
âLarissa, I donât think I could hate you even if I tried. Am I mad at you for refusing to talk to me about what happened and ignoring me in the last days? Abso-fucking-lutely. But the only thing that drove me crazy about that night was the fact that I believe that had been my one chance to be with you, when you were too out of it to know it was me.â
âIâŠI did know it was you. That was what made me thatâŠuninhibited.â
âWould you mind trying that again some other time when the both of us are sober?â
A tremulous smile bloomed on her face. It was a tiny, shy, wobbly thing, but right now, it felt like the biggest success.
âTomorrow after some hot chocolate at the Weathervane?â
You pressed your lips to hers, a chaste, closed-mouth gesture, full of affection and promise.
âItâs a date, Larissa.â
You stayed there for a while, sitting like kids on the stone floor under the stars, holding your hands, lost in each otherâs eyes. When you finally broke the spell, and the both of you climbed back to your feet â with some muttered curse, the cold stone at night wasnât too kind on the joints for either of you â Larissa jokingly pointed to the darkened stains on the front of your nightgown.
âSo, what happened there, did you murder someone before coming up here?â
You chuckled, looping your arm through hers and leading her companionly towards the stairs.
âWell, in vampire culture, thereâs this thing called Truly Bloody Marys, or Truly Bloodies if thatâs too much of a mouthfulâŠâ
I finally decided to start posting my latest creation (still somewhat in progress): the SexWorker!Larissa x Rich!Morticia AU that nobody really asked for. (except, in a way @weemssapphic who requested to be tagged in the announcement post when I posted the teaser).
Summary:Â In a world where thereâs no Nevermore Academy, and outcasts either hide their abilities or are left on the outskirts of society, Morticia is a recently widowed and ridiculously wealthy woman, determined to scandalize societyâs high-end events. Larissa is a shapeshifting escort, the best in her field. The two are brought together by business, but getting to know each other will force them to look deeply into themselves, and come to terms with parts of their soul that they had never acknowledged before.
Intrigued? You can read it here on AO3
Also, you can find the masterlist of all of my fanfiction here!
More Author rambles below if youâre interested:Â
SoL was born out of a way to challenge myself to write some smut, and then the plot took over. Then it was supposed to be a somewhat lighthearted sugar mommy Morticia x sugar baby Larissa fic (simply because there was a distinct lack of SugarBaby!Larissa fics and I love me a niche) but again I couldnât help myself from delving in deeper into the characters.Â
Also, I loved the concept of shapeshifting, and giving Larissa multiple faces felt like a sort of love letter to Gwendoline Christie and her real-life ability to portray so many different characters and sport so many different looks.Â
So yeah. I hope you enjoy reading this labor of love.Â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
I am 45k words deep in a Morticia/Larissa AU longfic, and I am seriously considering giving up my self-imposed rule to wait until I have it written it completely before I start posting it... I crave external validation.
They blushed coyly, looking at her from under long, mascara-coated lashes, as they sauntered past the armchair, choosing to sit down beside Morticia on the loveseat. Their long legs were left almost completely bare by this gesture, milky expanses of skin that climbed up to where a skin-tight golden dress hugged the rest of the body.Â
âHello to you too, charmer. I go by Sequoia, but you can call me anything you like,â was the answer, in a low timbre full of unspoken promises.
Hold me (I need to cry)Â Miranda Hilmarson /Robin Griffin
Robin realizes her feelings for the tall, blonde constable, and promptly falls apart in her arms. A short fic filled with feelings, and a bit of hurt/comfort. The sapphic hug scene that we were waiting for.
AO3 link is here
(PS. gif not mine, not sure why it says so. If you know the creator please tell me so I can tag them)
Hold me (I need to cry)
âHey, weâll find your baby, okay? IâŠam a detective. But Iâm also a super⊠detective. Okay?â Robin could feel that she was drunk in the way her own words slurred in her mouth, and in the way her mouth quirked up in a crooked grin without her even meaning to.
âI know.â
âI will find her.â She would do anything within her power to never hear Miradaâs gut-wrenching sobs again. If she had to go the other side of the world in search of her surrogate mother, she would. Even in her inebriated state, Robin was absolutely certain of it. Whatever Miranda wanted, she would do her best to make it possible. No matter the law, no matter the consequences.
âThank you.â There was so much earnestness in Mirandaâs voice that it made Robinâs heart stutter. âYou have a really good heart and Iâm sorry for what Iâve said,â the blonde pressed on, her eyes never leaving Robinâs face. Robin awkwardly shrugged, shaking her head, unsure how to respond to that.
Because if Mirandaâs words from before had wounded her deeply, it had just been because she had let them do so. Because for all of her trying to keep people at armâs length, for all of her defense mechanisms to prevent people from getting too attached, and herself from getting too attached to them in turn, it seemed that Robin had failed completely at her task. She saw that now, as clear as daylight, and couldnât believe she had managed to lie to herself until now. Not only she cared for Miranda as a friend, but she had also utterly fallen in love with her.
There was something about the way the blonde was so unashamedly herself, a total hot mess of feelings, of clumsiness and of honesty that had effortlessly punched a hole through all of the armor that Robin had stacked around her bruised heart. Miranda had waltzed in, and taken residence there as if she had always been there. And Robin hadnât really realized until now. Until they had fought and made up. Until Miranda had broken down and shared her deepest secrets, even more clandestine than her relationship with her already married boss. Miranda had trusted her with her burdens, and all Robin could think about was that she was in love with someone she could never hope to have. That this new, fluttering feeling was destined to be crushed without ever seeing the light of day. Like Cinnamonâs baby boy.
Suddenly it became too much for Robin, and she felt the tears running down her cheeks before she could do anything to try and stop them. It was not fair. She felt a soft âOhâ escaping Mirandaâs lips, and she tried to awkwardly shuffle away, muttering an âExcuse me,â but before she could attempt to flee, âOh no,â Miranda said, in that soft voice again, and suddenly Robin was enveloped in the warmest embrace she could imagine, âNo, you can howl if you want to,â came the voice from above her, around her, every place at once, as she broke down completely, hiding her face in the other womanâs neck, breathing in her scent, as Miranda rocked her like a baby, rubbing her hands all over her back and cooing comforting sounds in her ear. As close as she could ever be, and at the same time, so unattainable.
Robin allowed herself to be held, her hands trapped uselessly against her own body, sobbing at the unfairness of it all for what felt like whole days. Mourning the fact that the cause for the heartache were those same hands that rubbed her back, and those legs against which her knees pushed, and that caring woman that had unwittingly stolen her heart.
And then her sobs quietened down, and although the tears were still coming, she suddenly felt that maybe the pain of being held by the woman she loved and could never have was bigger than the pain of crying alone. So she detached herself from the embrace, and muttered a âExcuse me, Iâm sorryâ keeping her eyes firmly on the tip of her knees. If she was met again with those earnest blue eyes, she didnât think she could keep all of her feelings hidden. Not right now, when the realization was fresh and terrible and all-consuming.
Mirandaâs hands didnât leave her, one staying on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and the other moving to tuck a hair strand behind Robinâs ear. For a second only Robinâs labored breathing filled the silence of the room, before Miranda murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper, âNo,â as her long fingers traveled to Robinâs cheekbones, wiping off all the tears, their touch soft and caring as the woman herself, âdonât ever be sorry for what you feel.â
And it was so raw, so honest, and so in tune with what was going on through Robinâs heart and brain at this time, that she couldnât resist: against her better judgement she allowed her eyes to meet Mirandaâs beautiful ones. It felt like the other woman was staring deep into her soul, the intensity of her gaze an unparalleled one and Robin felt exposed as she had never felt before. It felt like Miranda could simply read everything Robin had ever felt in her life, for anyone. Including her. And that scared Robin as few things could nowadays. She had just found her as a friend, she didnât want her own traitorous heart to make her run away.
âM-mirandaâŠâ It was a plea, a request for forgiveness, a justification, and nothing of that at the same time. Robin had no time to think about how to word whatever she wanted to say next, because all of a sudden both of Mirandaâs hands were cupping her cheeks and the blondeâs lips were crashing on her own.
It was a desperate kiss, their lips mapping each other before opening up, and letting their tongues meet in a battle for dominance. Robinâs hands came up to tangle in Mirandaâs short bob, as the taller woman pulled her flush against her body, Robin now straddling her hips and pressing against her, as they explored each otherâs mouths, tilting their heads so as not to bump their noses together, deepening the kiss, and then lightening it to lightly touches of lips against each other, before it became a heated duel all over again, as unrelenting as the alternation of ebb and flow on the shores of the sea.
And in all that time Robinâs brain was blissfully silent.