They said it couldn't be done! Just over 48 hours later- 03:32AM on the 25th December- from me to you, Happy Holidays. : )
And honestly thank you all for the support; it's meant quite a bit to me and pulled me out of the slump I was in when it came to posting art, especially through dealing with my health these past few months- it's been just lovely seeing the same few names liking my silly doodles. Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day whatever you plan on doing, and it's goodnight from me, goodnight. <3
𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞; a lesson in hard truths.
— “Don’t think for a second that I don’t love you. Now get back to work, Ms. Ivelle.”
So… I am not and have never been pleased with the idea of Larissa’s death. I thought the spirit guide thing was poorly executed and definitely could have been thought out more thoroughly. Then I thought… why not rewrite canon for an OC and pair her with Larissa?
— “What are you doing…?”
“Simmering, darling, like a pot of boiling oil.”
Marliene is meant to be Marylin Thornhill’s replacement. She teaches Nevermore’s horticulture studies and I decided to keep her a normie for the sake of Larissa’s belief that normies and outcasts can coexist. And while she doesn’t possess any particular traits of an outcast, Marliene seems to bewitch Larissa in everything she does, and it simply drives Larissa mad.
Unlike Larissa, she did not attend Nevermore as a scholar and does not hold the school in such high esteem as Larissa does. This tends to get on Larissa’s nerves despite her affections for Marliene. But Marliene will never understand Larissa’s love for Nevermore, because Marliene focuses her love on the Headmistress, not the state of the school.
She does, however, have a deep love for her students, much like Larissa. She is Larissa’s opposite in many respects, but she puts her students before anyone and anything else. There have been many nights of passion cancelled by mountains of paperwork to grade, or, a student to tutor. Larissa, though, is always pleased with Marliene for putting her pupils before her.
Speaking of being Larissa’s opposite… where Larissa’s morals are gray, hers are black and white, right vs. wrong. She will always tell Larissa when she believes what she says or does is wrong, most notably the coverup of a student’s murder. Marliene believed Larissa was wrong for begging the parents to not involve the authorities. This spiralled into a tense argument about Nevermore’s core values. Marliene questions Larissa’s integrity, but by questioning Larissa, she questions Nevermore, and Larissa doesn’t tolerate curiosities about her intentions.
— “You’re such a strange girl…”
“Howso?”
“Flung from space.”
Their relationship is much like Carol and Therese or Helene and Tamara. They cannot decide what they want until it’s taken from them. Until Larissa is gone and Marliene is meant to pick up the pieces. Work conflicts with love. Larissa conflicts with love. Larissa feels too old for love and Marliene craves it. (basically them ⬇️)
— “I’d expect you to be worn out by now.”
“Oh, please. I don’t tire easily.”
Marliene reaches Larissa easily, standing at 6’1 (186cm). Her hair is a soft shade of brown with light gray streaks to reflect her age, 43 at time of writing. Her birthday is December 27th. She is not complete without her faint crows feet and smile lines. She has vibrant green eyes and sharp features, with long legs and wide hips to boot.
close ups and more below ⬇️ (there is a bloody version for vamp!rissa’s sake) (suggestive headcannons)
When her hair is down, Larissa feels comfortable to be herself. And herself is probably a fucking freak when she’s alone.
She wears all sorts of jewelry but she loves the simplicity of gold wristlets and rings. Red painted nails and tall heels that add to her intimidating stature. For you, her special girl, she’d model for your sketch studies in the sluttiest lingerie or even nothing at all. Whatever you want, when you and her are all alone in her quarters, it’s yours.
And of course in return she gets her fix of your sweet blood, she moans and whimpers as it coats the inside of her mouth and pours down her throat. You’re more filling than mice and rabbits and oh does your taste make her so, so very wet. When she’s done with you your blood smudges on her lips and her tongue darts out to collect the little drops of crimson she misses. Nothing of yours is to be wasted.
Larissa’s vampiric tendencies tend to get the better of her when it comes to you, specifically. She simply cannot get enough of how you taste, how your heart races like the wingbeat of a bird trapped in your ribcage. Rabbits and the mice that scurry in the dark deep corridors of Nevermore are never enough to satiate her hunger for you. You allow her to be messy, to take. She can lose the control she so carefully masquerades with when she’s with you, especially when she’s got you in her clutches.
She’d hold you gently while she bites you, moaning at the taste of your blood, licking away every drop like you’re a precious, fragile morsel. She’d wipe her bottom lip with her thumb and kiss you after, and you can taste the metallic sanguine residue on her tongue… “you did so good, you always do.”
Larissa is good at concealing what she wants from you at times despite her needs. You won’t know she needs her fix until she needs it and you are helpless lying in her arms as she bites. She is not cruel, no, not at all. In fact she asks, always asks, always to get that satisfying yes from you. The love is mutual; she loves to take, and oh, are you eager to give.
She’d praise you after every bite… soothing coos after the sting of her teeth penetrate your skin. “Such a good girl, always my good girl”… until one day she doesn’t praise. She doesn’t wait, and it’s some sort of feeding frenzy, her eyes seem to almost glow a soft gray hue and in the darkness you can’t help but come closer, until she grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you in. She doesn’t waste any time, her tongue searches longingly for the spot on your neck that pulses the strongest before her fangs plunge deep into your throat. She’s frantic, fangs aching with a biting need as she holds you. And when you try to push her away she’s not quite done with you… she’s never done with you. Not her special girl.
Larissa’s vampiric tendencies tend to get the better of her when it comes to you, specifically. She simply cannot get enough of how you taste, how your heart races like the wingbeat of a bird trapped in your ribcage. Rabbits and the mice that scurry in the dark deep corridors of Nevermore are never enough to satiate her hunger for you. You allow her to be messy, to take. She can lose the control she so carefully masquerades with when she’s with you, especially when she’s got you in her clutches.
She’d hold you gently while she bites you, moaning at the taste of your blood, licking away every drop like you’re a precious, fragile morsel. She’d wipe her bottom lip with her thumb and kiss you after, and you can taste the metallic sanguine residue on her tongue… “you did so good, you always do.”
Larissa is good at concealing what she wants from you at times despite her needs. You won’t know she needs her fix until she needs it and you are helpless lying in her arms as she bites. She is not cruel, no, not at all. In fact she asks, always asks, always to get that satisfying yes from you. The love is mutual; she loves to take, and oh, are you eager to give.
She’d praise you after every bite… soothing coos after the sting of her teeth penetrate your skin. “Such a good girl, always my good girl”… until one day she doesn’t praise. She doesn’t wait, and it’s some sort of feeding frenzy, her eyes seem to almost glow a soft gray hue and in the darkness you can’t help but come closer, until she grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you in. She doesn’t waste any time, her tongue searches longingly for the spot on your neck that pulses the strongest before her fangs plunge deep into your throat. She’s frantic, fangs aching with a biting need as she holds you. And when you try to push her away she’s not quite done with you… she’s never done with you. Not her special girl.
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